Heidi Rice – Out of Hours...His Feisty Assistant: The Tycoon's Very Personal Assistant / Caught on Camera with the CEO / Her Not-So-Secret Diary (страница 9)
He stopped. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked, his voice strained but tender, his whole body shaking with the effort to hold back.
‘Yes, it’s just it feels so incredible.’She choked the words out. She’d never climaxed so quickly before or with such intensity.
‘You’re telling me.’ He groaned. ‘Hang on,’ he said. ‘It’s about to get better.’
She didn’t believe that could be true, but as he began to move in an exquisite, unstoppable rhythm she realised she was wrong. The orgasm gripped her in a fevered fist and hurled her over the edge, only to pull her up and hurl her again.
He stiffened above her and shouted out her name as the final shuddering wave seized her and flung her over into the abyss.
‘Kate, are you all right?’ Zack’s heart stuttered as he watched her eyelids flutter open.
Thank God—he’d thought she’d passed out there for a minute. Hell, he’d almost passed out himself. He’d never felt anything so incredible. He rested his palm against the damp skin of her cheek. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, brushing his thumb across the crest of her cheekbone.
He ought to be, he thought, he’d just taken her like a man possessed.
Her small hand came up and covered his. The sweet smile that curled her lips made his heart rate slow. ‘What are you apologising for, you dope?’
He rested his forehead against hers. ‘That was kind of fast and furious.’ He lifted his head, looked down at her. He’d never taken a woman with so little sophistication before in his life, even as a teenager. It was embarrassing. ‘You didn’t get much in the way of foreplay.’
She pressed a fingertip against his lips, silencing him. ‘Well, now, Boudreaux.’ Her eyes twinkled and her smile became more than a little smug. ‘I like foreplay as much as the next girl. But a guy should never have to apologise for giving a woman her first multiple orgasm.’
He laughed, relief washing over him. ‘How many did you have?’
‘Honestly?’
He nodded, the surge of pride surprising him.
‘I lost count.’ She sat up suddenly, holding the sheet to her breasts as she beamed down at him. ‘Zack, I think you found my G-spot.’ Her voice bubbled with excitement. ‘And to think, I always thought that was an urban myth.’
‘You did, huh?’ He slipped a hand under the sheet, found the soft swell of her butt. ‘Well, I nearly blacked out, and that’s a first for me, so I guess we’re even.’
‘No, we’re not.’She laughed. ‘I’m pretty sure I
‘You know what,’ he said, incredulous at the renewed rush of blood to his groin. ‘Seeing as you lost count, I figure you owe me more than one.’ He whipped the sheet out of her hand, grabbed her wrist and hauled her out of the bed with him. ‘And I know a great way to make you pay up,’ he said, dragging her giggling and squirming towards the bathroom.
Forget the thrill of the chase, he thought, the thrill of the catch was going to be a whole lot better.
‘YOU’RE AN EARLY RISER. I guess I didn’t tire you out enough last night.’
Kate’s fingers slipped on the package of Pop Tarts at the sound of the deep, sleep-roughened voice. She turned slowly to see the man she’d had the wildest night of her life with leaning against the kitchen doorway, a cocky smile on his face. He’d pulled on a pair of sweatpants, but otherwise he was gloriously naked. All tanned, leanly muscled male rumpled from the bedroom, his short hair sticking up in sexy tufts.
Her mouth watered and her stomach clenched at one and the same time.
Kate was no expert in morning-after etiquette. Contrary to her wanton behaviour all through the night, she’d never slept with a guy on a first date. Until now. What exactly did you say to a man who’d brought you to unspeakable pleasure too many times to count but whom you hardly knew? She had no idea.
‘It’s the jet lag,’ she said, brandishing the box of breakfast treats. ‘I found these in your cupboard. How do you feel about coffee and a sugar rush for breakfast?’
He yawned and stretched long arms above his head, arching his back. The play of muscles across his torso drew Kate’s eyes. His arms dropped to his side. The bottom dropped out of Kate’s stomach.
‘Those are Joey’s.’ He nodded at the package as he scraped his fingers through his hair bringing his hand to rest briefly on the back of his neck. ‘He’ll be mad if we finish them.’ He walked towards her, his bare feet padding against the smooth granite tiles of the cavernous and luxuriously appointed kitchen. He smiled, a dimple appearing that Kate hadn’t noticed yesterday.
The cold marble work surface pressed into the small of her back as he stopped a few inches from her. His big body radiated heat. He lifted the Pop Tarts out of her hand and leaned across her to put them down on the surface. ‘Anyway,’ he said, his hands resting on her hips. ‘I’m sure we can do better than that.’ He pulled her against him, his thumbs stroking the silk of her dress. The light caress sizzled through her, making her toes curl.
‘I could cook, or we could call room service,’ he murmured, dipping his head to lick the pulse point in her neck. The sizzle flared into her breasts and her nipples hardened. ‘They do great maple pecan waffles, if you’re in the mood for something sweet.’ He wiggled his brows at her lasciviously. ‘I sure am.’
She took several shallow breaths, placed her hands on his chest and eased him back, her brain engaging for the first time since she’d spotted him in the doorway. ‘Who’s Joey?’
Did he have a son? Goodness, he might even have a wife? She’d seen no trace of a woman’s presence when she’d done a little tour of the penthouse after waking up, but, still, he could be married. It horrified her to realise she didn’t know for sure.
He straightened and let her go, studying her face. ‘Don’t look so scared.’ He rested his butt against the kitchen’s central aisle, folded his arms across his chest. ‘Joey’s my five-year-old godson. He sleeps over sometimes when Stella and Monty, his mom and dad, need a babysitter. Who did you think he was?’
‘I just wondered,’ she said, looking down at her toes, faint with relief. She forced a smile. ‘You don’t strike me as the babysitting type.’
‘There’s not a lot of babysitting involved.’ He smiled, the dimple winking at her again. How
This was a facet of him Kate never would have imagined. It made him seem almost as sweet as the Pop Tarts all of a sudden. Why the discovery should make her stomach tighten and her breathing become even more rapid she couldn’t guess.
‘So how about I order waffles?’ He arched an eyebrow, looking more dangerous than sweet. ‘We can get to the deadly sins we missed last night while we wait.’
She laughed, feeling pretty dangerous herself. ‘Did we miss any?’
He stepped back to her, his enticing male scent enveloping her as he brushed a knuckle across her cheek. ‘I bet I can find a few.’
‘Hmm.’ She considered him, holding her tongue between her teeth. ‘I’d love to take that bet,’ she said.
His hand dropped from her face as he grinned. He looked so delicious, it was almost indecent how much she wanted to take him up on his offer. Disappointment covered the fire in her belly like a wet blanket. ‘But unfortunately, I’ve only got fifteen minutes before I have to meet with your housekeeping manager, Mrs Oakley.’
To think she was going to be making beds all morning when she could have been tearing up the sheets with Zack Boudreaux. She’d had her one night of bliss, and now reality was back with a vengeance.
A line formed across his brow. ‘Why are you meeting Pat?’
‘I think it’s just a formality.’ She shrugged, turned to pour herself a cup of coffee. Looking at his bare chest was only adding to her misery. ‘I filled out the forms yesterday afternoon.’ She put the pot down, recalling the brief phone conversation she’d had with Patricia Oakley and the reams of paperwork that had been sent to her suite.
‘What forms?’
She pulled a cup out of the cabinet, placed it on the surface with a sharp click. ‘I couldn’t find any milk—will black do?’
‘I said, what forms?’
She looked at him over her shoulder, her eyes widening at his flat tone.
She turned round. ‘The employment forms, all two thousand of them.’ Cradling the mug of coffee in both hands, she blew on it, inhaled the delicious coffee scent. ‘Mrs Oakley’s going to sort out my social security number for me. It’s a good thing Andrew didn’t take my American passport with him. Or I really would have been up the creek.’ She took a quick sip. It might smell like coffee, but it tasted like water. She wrinkled her nose. ‘No offence,’ she said lightly, ‘but American coffee is disgusting.’
‘Why were you filling out employment forms for Pat?’
She frowned. Why was he behaving as if she were talking in a foreign language?