Page 41 of Dangerous Secrets

Charity reached out hesitatingly, then lay her hand on his crotch. His cock immediately lengthened as a surge of blood went through it at her touch. Her hand jerked in surprise. It must have felt as if he had a landed trout in his pants. They were on a broad avenue and he spared a second to look down at himself.

Her pale hand gleamed in the faint light coming from the digital readouts. After her initial surprise, she’d put her hand back on him, cupping her palm around him. He could feel the heat of her hand through the two layers of cloth. His dick and her hand started doing a little dance. She’d squeeze lightly, his dick would respond enthusiastically, which made her squeeze him again, while he surged against her.

It was torture. Why was he doing this to himself? Nick wasn’t big on teasing self-denial, but if this was all he could get, well, he’d take it.

He had to concentrate fiercely on the road and worked to keep his breathing even. She was driving him crazy, yet he’d kill himself if she stopped touching him.

“Touch yourself.” Her eyes turned big. “Touch yourself,” he repeated grimly. “With your other hand. Open your legs and touch yourself.” In his peripheral vision, he watched as her right hand hesitated over her thighs. Then, slowly, her thighs opened and she reached between them with her forefinger, running it along the slit.

God, he remembered doing that himself, sliding his finger along the silky opening, tender and fascinating, puffy and pale pink. Like a little flesh flower.

“Are you wet?” They were passing the McBain mansion, a huge, decaying Victorian monstrosity surrounded by woods that just cried out for a crazed writer with a pickaxe. It meant that they were just a few minutes from her house. “Please tell me that you’re wet, because otherwise I’ll shoot myself.”

Charity gave a little snorting laugh. “No, you’re okay. You’ll live a little longer. I’m wet, though . . .” she paused delicately. “Not quite as wet as you make me.” Her fingers tightened around his cock.

The muscles in his thigh pulled, hard, and a line of fire raced down his spine. For a shocked second, he thought he would come in her hand. He managed to pull back from the brink, shaking, jaws clenched.

Charity ran her hand up him once, then back down. “Wow.” He could see her looking at him. “Something almost happened there.”

Nick’s jaws clenched. “Yeah.” He chanced a glance at her. They were almost home. “You little witch.”

He saw the beginning of her smile before concentrating again on the road. “That better have excited you.”

“Oh, it did,” she assured him softly. Her thighs opened wider and he could actually hear the wet sounds as she pushed her finger inside her, then pulled it slowly out. “I am very . . . ready.”

Nick had one big punch to his system as he started the free fall to orgasm. No! Not here, not now. Again, he had to use all his self-control to pull himself back.

They were there. He drove up the driveway, killing the engine just as the front fender of the Lexus kissed the garage door. He turned to look at her, wincing. Every movement fucking hurt. “Pull on your pants and shoes. Leave your underwear here. Get your key ready, too.”

She was fast, he had to give her that. By the time he made it to her door, she had her pants, shoes and coat on. Panties, bra and socks were a pale, silky gleam on the floor of the footwell.

Charity lifted up her arms to him, in utter trust, a mysterious half-smile on her face. “I’m looking forward to this,” she whispered, once she was in his arms, where she belonged.

“Not as much as I am.” Nick smiled down at her. His hard-on still hurt, but for just a second, he was able to forget it. She felt so light and soft and . . . andrightin his arms. His dick was squeezed tight inside his jeans but something was squeezing him in the chest area, too.

His senses were heightened. The pine trees of the forest surrounding her house gave off a heady, resiny scent that mixed with the steely smell of snow and whiff of gas coming off the hot hood. Above all those, her scent, Charity’s scent, rose like a grace note.

He could see so clearly, it was as if he had on night vision goggles. The faint light given off by the street lamp a hundred yards away and Charity’s pitifully weak porch light were enough for him to take in everything. He could have taken a sniper shot.

And his skin—Jesus. His skin felt supercharged, one huge erogenous zone from the top of his head to his toes. Each stray snowflake felt like a little pebble pinging against him. All the textures of his clothes and hers, the light wind that felt like a gale—everything was heightened.

He made it up the walkway and the stairs as fast as he could without slipping on the ice and breaking both their necks. A second later they were inside the door and a second after that, he had her up against the door, both hands plunged into her hair, cradling her skull, kissing her wildly.

His hand went to his pants and he freed himself

She lifted herself up on tiptoe so she could cradle his hard-on and it brought about a second’s relief. Not enough, but Christ, it was better rubbing himself against her softness than against his jeans.

He left her mouth for the second it took to whip her sweater up and off, missing her fiercely, moaning as he took her mouth again.

He had another second to get her naked and to get himself suited up. He couldn’t do both in one second.

“Take your pants off,” he whispered against her mouth, stepping back. “Fast.”

He pulled a rubber out of his pocket and donned it, wincing at the feel of his hand smoothing the condom over himself. He felt ready to explode.

She held his eyes as she unzipped her pants. They slid to her ankles. She toed her boots off, tugged the pants past her feet and tossed them into the room somewhere.

Before they landed, Nick had pressed against her, lifting her and stepping between her legs. She opened for him, an instinctive gesture of welcome and his dick brushed against her soft pubic hair. He gritted his teeth.

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