Best Of Makeovers Bundle Part 42

"Sorry, I didn't hear you," she said. "I was looking for my earring."

Then she scooted backward, enticing b.u.t.t first. Too late he realized he was standing too close-or had he intended it to be that way? She stepped backward, head ducked to avoid the door frame, and backed straight into him. The full curve of her b.u.t.t connected firmly with his groin, and the exquisite sensation of her pressing up against his already-aching erection was too much for his self-control. His free hand found her hip, and when she made to move away, he curved his fingers into her flesh and held her steady. She froze and for a heartbeat there was nothing but the sound of their breathing in the dim underground s.p.a.ce.

ANNA'S BLOOD FELT like treacle as it pumped thick and hot through her veins. She'd barely registered that she'd backed into him when his hand clamped down on her hip. Then she felt the unmistakable ridge of his erection pressing against the curve of her b.u.t.t. She froze, a thousand thoughts and feelings skittering across her mind. Then he shifted, just an infinitesimal tilt of his hips as he brought himself more firmly against her. It was an invitation, a question. Instinctively she rocked back, giving him the only answer she could.

The hand on her hip tensed, and she heard the sound of his briefcase and laptop bag hitting the concrete. Then his other hand was on her thigh, sliding down the fabric of her skirt as he reached for the hem. She shuddered as his fingers found the silk-covered skin of her leg and began a slow sweep up under her skirt. Heat pooled in her thighs and she rocked back into his hardness again. Then his hand slid from stocking-silk to bare flesh and she gasped at the feel of his skin against hers. He stilled, and the hand on her thigh tensed.

"The man at the opera house?" he asked, and she knew exactly what he wanted to know.

"My brother," she said. He gusted out a lungful of air, and then the hand completed its journey, sliding over her hip, and around to reach between her legs and cup the moist heat of her mound. He pressed his palm hard against her, grinding his hips against her from behind, and she groaned with the pleasure of it.

"Yes!" she gasped as his other hand raced up her ribs and closed unerringly over her breast.

For a second it was enough, his hands on her heat and her breast, but she knew there was more, so much more.

As though he could read her mind, he slid a finger beneath the elastic of her panties and into the damp curls surrounding her c.l.i.toris. One brush, two, three over the highly sensitized nub, and then his knowing hands dipped farther still, seeking the slick wetness between her thighs. Automatically she widened her stance, allowing him fuller access. A finger slid inside her, and she gasped, her muscles tightening around him, clinging to his invasion. But too quickly he was gone, sliding back up to her c.l.i.toris, slicking his finger over and over the stiff little bead. She shuddered and writhed, awash with desire. His erection was still pushed hard against her b.u.t.t, and she snaked a hand between their bodies to ma.s.sage the length of him. He felt hard and long and she bit her lip, thinking about him inside her, filling her....

Then suddenly the delicious pressure between her thighs stopped and he withdrew his hand.

"Take your shirt off," he ordered in a rasping undertone.

She didn't hesitate. He remained pressed against her backside, his hardness urging her on as she slid her jacket off, then ripped at the b.u.t.tons of her shirt. He helped her pull the cuffs over her wrists, and when she was down to her bra he spun her around in his arms and she looked into his face for the first time.

His eyes were dark and hooded, his cheekbones flushed. His mouth was slightly open, and she fixated on the glinting wetness of his tongue. His gaze dropped to rake her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and when it rose again to meet hers she saw pure animal desire in him.

"So much better than I imagined," he said huskily, and then he leaned forward and took possession of her mouth. His tongue swept along the tender skin inside her lips even as both his hands came up to cup her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Her nipples were already straining at the lace of her bra, and he rubbed his thumbs across them, then squeezed them gently but firmly between thumb and forefinger. She moaned and pressed her body against his. His lips left her mouth and blazed a trail across her cheek and down her neck. Her head dropped back like a too-heavy flower as he slid her bra straps off her shoulders and pushed the fabric of the cups away from her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

She groaned as his mouth closed over a straining nipple at last. The wet heat of his mouth, the flick of his tongue across her nipple-it was almost too much, and she reached for his belt with shaking hands.

"Now," she demanded.

She slid his buckle loose, and undid his b.u.t.ton and fly. His erection pushed proudly at the fabric of his boxers, and she at last closed her hand around the length of him. He inhaled sharply as she ran her hand down his shaft, then slid her thumb over the velvety head of his p.e.n.i.s.

In response, he suckled harder on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, the pleasure so intense it was almost pain. They were both breathing heavily, clutching at each other, desperate for completion. As she slicked her hand up and down his shaft, he swept her skirt up around her waist and tugged at her panties. She helped him pull them off, and then he picked her up, walked a few steps, and placed her on the trunk of the car.

She was literally mindless with desire. All she wanted was satisfaction, and the only way to achieve it was to have him inside her. She hauled him toward her, her hips rising up to meet his.

"Just a moment," he murmured, and she heard the crinkle of a foil packet being opened.

A second later, and a delicious antic.i.p.ation stole over her as his p.e.n.i.s probed her, and then he was sliding into her, filling her, going as deep as he could, the base of his shaft grinding into her.

"Oh, yes!" she cried, clutching at his hips and dragging him closer still.

She was panting, out of control. He pulled back, then plunged into her again. She felt as though she could scream with the pleasure of it. Never in her life had she been so aroused, so greedy, so determined to have it all.

Firming her grip on his hips, she matched his rhythm, riding with him as the sensations inside her tightened toward the inevitable conclusion. Her back arched as she stiffened in antic.i.p.ation, and he took advantage of the action to tongue her nipples, sucking one into his mouth and pulling on it so firmly that she bucked.

The movement slid her off the trunk of the car, and he clutched at her hips, taking both their weights before spinning and pinning her against the concrete wall beside the car. She crossed her ankles behind his back, and he thrust into her again and again as she writhed against the wall.

And then she was coming, pulsating around him, her head thrown back, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she cried out. A breath later, she felt him tense as he followed her, his body shuddering as he came, too.

A heartbeat, two, three. She felt the tension slide out of him. The sound of their harsh breathing echoed back at them. He withdrew from her, releasing his grip on her hips. She slid down the wall, the heels of her shoes making a faint click as they connected with the ground. Her knees felt weak, rubbery, and she put out a hand to steady herself. He caught the movement, and reached out to support her.

"You okay?"

She nodded, lifting dazed eyes to his face. He looked just as blown away, she saw. Then his eyes raked down over her body and she felt a pulse of tension between her thighs.

Straight after the most mind-blowing s.e.x she'd ever had, and all the man had to do was look at her and she was ready for round two!

She glanced across at him and saw that he was dressing, pulling up his pants, tucking his shirt in. She looked down at herself, saw her b.r.e.a.s.t.s straining upward, supported by her pulled-down bra. Her skirt was rucked up around her waist, her panties abandoned somewhere near the car.

Reality crashed in like an avalanche.

She was in a parking lot, for Pete's sake! She'd just had knockdown, drag-out s.e.x with an almost-stranger in a parking lot! No, not just a stranger-a client! She might be new to the business, but she was pretty d.a.m.ned sure that having s.e.x with the clients was not high on the agenda for self-employed limo services.

Her hands were trembling as she dragged her skirt down and her bra up. Her shirt was crumpled on the ground beside the car, and she crossed to pick it up. One of the b.u.t.tons was missing. She tugged it on and did up as many as she could, but her bra now showed clearly in the deep V created by the absent b.u.t.ton. She located her panties, simultaneously becoming aware that he had finished dressing and was now standing watching her. She couldn't bring herself to pull her panties on while he watched. Instead, she stuffed them into the side pocket of the open car door.

Smoothing a hand through her hair, she took a deep breath, then let it out again. Then she crossed to the open rear door of the car, and indicated for him to get in. He stared at her for a beat, and she kept her face as calm as she could. Inside, she was reeling, unable to comprehend what had just happened, her blood still fizzing with the excitement of it all. But she didn't want him to know that. If she was going to pull this off, she had to appear cool and calm.

Finally he picked up his briefcase and laptop bag and slid them into the car. She waited, her hand on the door handle, ready to shut him in. He paused on the verge of stepping into the car.

"What just happened..." he said, but she shook her head.

"I know exactly what it was, don't worry," she said hastily.

"Do you? You're doing better than me, then," he said harshly.

Her eyes flew to his face. "I didn't mean...I've never done anything like this before," she stumbled.

"That makes two of us."

A long, tense silence stretched between them. She knew her face was crimson with embarra.s.sment, could feel the heat of it. Could this get any worse?

Finally he moved, sliding into the backseat. She shut the door on him with a heartfelt sigh of relief. Now she just had to get him home, and out of her car. Then she could tell the dispatch company she subscribed to that she was no longer taking jobs for Lewis Technologies, and she'd never have to see him again. She could pretend the whole thing had never happened.

Because even though she was managing to maintain a cool, calm facade, inside she was freaking out badly. What had she just done? With a client? In a public place? She couldn't believe that she'd gone from only done it in a bed to wild parking garage s.e.x in the s.p.a.ce of a few minutes. She'd practically torn the poor guy's clothes off. She could only imagine what he was thinking of her.

Silence sat thick and heavy between them as she drove up the exit ramp and waited for the security grill to rise. When she was confident the car would clear it, she eased her foot down on the accelerator.

"Wait a minute."

She braked instantly, then swung around in her seat when she heard the click of the car door opening. A second later he was getting into the pa.s.senger seat next to her, pulling on his seat belt.

He gave her a rueful look, and she guessed that he felt uncomfortable having her chauffeur him home after they'd all but devoured each other in his company parking lot.

Not that having him sitting next to her improved the situation from her point of view.

Why had this happened? And why did it have to be this particular man who'd pressed all her latent s.e.x-vixen b.u.t.tons? She slid a sideways look at him, but he was gazing out the side window, his face turned away. The silence tightened between them. Finally it became so unbearable that she stabbed a hand at the car stereo.

The funky sounds of Tone-Loc filled the car as he sang about doing the wild thing. Dear G.o.d. Instantly she stabbed the off b.u.t.ton on the stereo.

They completed the rest of the drive to Point Piper in excruciating, tense silence.

He began offering her directions when she pulled off the main road and into the residential streets of Sydney's most expensive and exclusive suburb.

"Left here, then the second on the right," he said, his voice devoid of all emotion.

She followed instructions, and finally pulled up beside a high wall, broken only by a single gate and a double garage door. She knew enough about Sydney real estate to understand that the low-key street appeal signaled that behind the wall was a world of privilege and wealth that she could only dream of. Which made what had just happened between them even more surreal.

She got out of the car, but before she could even think about opening his door, he was already standing on the sidewalk. Stiff-shouldered, she collected his briefcase and laptop instead.

"Thank you," he said brusquely as she awkwardly handed the two bags over. Then he just stood there.

It struck her for the first time that for a man she'd mentally categorized as an experienced and knowledgeable player, he was about as handy with this one-night-stand business as she was. That awareness eased the tension banding her chest just a little.

"Look," she said suddenly, "don't worry. I'm not going to turn into a stalker or anything. It just happened, right? For some reason. But it's done now. No regrets."

She stuck her hand out, all business. He hesitated, then a wry smile curved his mouth as he shook hands with her. It was the first time she'd seen him smile, and it was enough to make her blink. The man was a knockout in the s.e.x-appeal stakes, that was for sure.

"No regrets," he said, echoing her words. For a second they held eye contact, and heat sizzled between them again.

Wow.

Anna swallowed and dragged her hand from his grip. "Good night then, Mr. Lewis."

He nodded, and swiveled on his heel. She watched him unlock the gate, and then he was gone and she was left standing alone on the darkened street.

She sagged against her car and closed her eyes. Bad move, she realized as soon as selected highlights from her recent encounter with Marc flashed across her mind's eye. She could feel her nipples harden against the lace of her bra just from the memory of the man.

She knew suddenly that she'd meant what she said-no regrets. She'd just experienced the kind of mindless pa.s.sion and desire that she'd previously only read about in the pages of a steamy novel. Her body still throbbed with aftershocks from his masterful lovemaking. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s felt sensitized and tender and if she squeezed her thighs together she could invoke a faint memory of what it was like to have him inside her.

So, no regrets. Definitely no regrets.

In fact, she was even beginning to feel vaguely pleased with how she'd managed the whole awkward post-coital situation. She tilted her chin. Maybe the idea of bringing more pa.s.sion into her life wasn't so crazy after all. Maybe she wasn't as uptight and straitlaced as she'd imagined. Head high, she circled around the car to the driver's side.

The streetlight caught the black paintwork on her car, and as she pa.s.sed the trunk she stopped in her tracks and sucked in a breath of air. Outlined clearly on the shiny surface of the trunk were two round globes-a perfect impression of her bare b.u.t.t.

She blinked and gasped, but the b.u.t.t-print remained the same-highly visible, and eminently recognizable for what it was.

Exactly how many people would have seen her b.u.t.t-print as she drove across town? Thousands. Literally thousands. She glanced down at her personalized number plates. Lady Driver. The b.u.t.t-print gave the plates a whole new connotation.

Embarra.s.sed heat flooding her body, she clicked open the trunk and reached for her polishing cloth. Somehow, during the drive over here, she'd managed to minimize the impact of what she'd just done. Maybe she'd had to do that so she could keep functioning and get Marc home. But now there was no holding back the full horror of what she'd allowed to happen.

She'd had s.e.x with a client. Not just any client, either-an influential, high-profile millionaire client. And not just s.e.x, either. They'd consumed each other in the not very salubrious surrounds of an underground parking garage.

Peachy. Just peachy.

She rubbed furiously at the mark. She had been way off beam when she'd fantasized about being a freewheeling s.e.x vixen-she could fool herself for a few minutes of decadent excess, but she just wasn't up to the consequences.

Elbow pumping vigorously, she put everything she had into removing the evidence of her lapse from the trunk of her car. Pity she couldn't wipe the incident from her memory as easily. One thing was for sure-it was never going to happen again.

4.

THE NEXT DAY, Anna woke to a few seconds of blissful ignorance before memory descended in vivid detail. She rolled her face into the pillow and groaned loudly. Her whole body flushed with mortification as she remembered the way she'd urged Marc to have s.e.x with her, the way she'd writhed against him and grabbed greedily at his hard male body.

She had never, ever, ever behaved so...wantonly in her entire life. She pressed her hands over her eyes, wanting to block out the images that kept popping up in her mind's eye.

Kicking off the bedcovers, she strode into the bathroom and turned the water on as hot as she could stand it. Stripping off the T-shirt she'd worn to bed, she stepped into the steamy shower cubicle. And froze as she caught a glimpse of her back in the vanity mirror. A rash stood out redly across her shoulders. She frowned, then her eyebrows shot toward her hairline as she remembered Marc thrusting her against the wall last night when she'd slid off the trunk of her car.

Her mouth pressed into a tight line, Anna stuck her head under the shower jet and wished that she could just wash away the last twenty-four hours. Reaching for the soap, she worked up a lather and ran perfunctory hands over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and belly. Deep between her legs, her muscles contracted pleasurably as her slick hands slid over her nipples. Anna gasped, earning herself a mouthful of water.

How could part of her still be turned on by what had happened between her and her client when most of her was mortified? It made no sense to her whatsoever. But, sure enough, no matter how perfunctory her washing technique, her body kept sending out definite signals that it was hot and ready for round two with Marc.

Switching the water abruptly to cold, Anna gritted her teeth as the icy jets pummeled her. Shivering, she climbed out of the shower and roughly toweled herself dry. Any gains made by the cold dousing quickly went by the wayside, and she stared down at her perkily erect nipples. What on earth was wrong with her? She'd just broken all the tenets and values she'd lived by her entire life. Shouldn't that mean something?

Thoroughly confused, she dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, then made a small choking noise as she caught sight of the neatly wrapped present on the kitchen bench. She'd almost forgotten! They were having a barbecue at her father's place today for his birthday. For a few wild seconds she considered canceling, but she would never do that to her dad. And Danny would be there, and she needed advice, stat.

Taking the portable telephone through into the living room, she perched on her armchair and squinted out into the bright morning sunlight. Her flat was on the third floor, with an excellent view of her neighbor's swimming pool and multicar garage. One of the privileges of living in Rose Bay-getting to see how the other half lived up close. She watched stray leaves drift down into the aqua water as the phone rang. Just as she was about to give up, Danny answered.

"What?" he growled, clearly grumpy at having been woken.

"I need you," she said, chewing anxiously on a thumbnail. "I'm having a vixen crisis."

"Really?" Danny sounded instantly alert.

"Can you come to Dad's early?" she asked.

"Give me an hour."

"Half an hour. I'm going crazy here, Danny."

"Okay. But no cracks about my bed-head."

Smiling faintly at her brother's vanity, she ended the call. For a few moments she remained curled on the armchair, knees pulled in tightly to her chest. She could hear the ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece, and the faint scuffle of people moving around in the flat upstairs. Then she realized she was frowning, and a deluge of confusing thoughts and feelings swamped her. Shaking her head, she pushed herself up and out of the chair. No. She was not going to sit here and send herself around the bend trying to sort out the confusing mix of regret and desire that had her in its grasp. That was Danny's job. She just had to get her a.s.s down to her father's so Danny could minister to her.

Stuffing her feet into slip-on sandals, she grabbed her car keys and sungla.s.ses and scooped up her father's present. She'd buy a cake on the way, along with some other premade salads. Her whole family happily acknowledged that she'd never mastered the art of cooking, and she was the queen of gourmet takeaway.

She made two stops on the way to her father's house in the suburb of Chatswood on the north sh.o.r.e. Her father's favorite cheesecake and a selection of gourmet salads in the trunk, she pulled up outside his neatly kept brick veneer house within half an hour. The fabric of her T-shirt pulled across her sensitive shoulders as she exited the car, and Anna slid her sungla.s.ses on with a firm hand. She pushed all thoughts of having dirty underground-parking-lot s.e.x with Marc out of her mind and reached into the trunk. She refused to think about it until she had Danny on hand to help straighten her out.

He was helping her father set up folding chairs in the backyard when she exited the kitchen.

"Anna Banana," her father said affectionately, pulling her in for a big bear hug. Stepping back, he surveyed her from head to toe. "You're looking beautiful, as always. Although I'm still not one hundred percent on this hair," he said, ruffling her blond spikes gently.