Or one right move.
Phillip looked as though shed smacked him upside the head. His eyes went dark and his breath caught as the image took hold.
Frankie pressed her tongue against her upper lip, enjoying his reaction.
So now you know about me. Tell me about you and then we wont be strangers anymore.
Theres nothing to tell.
No? I must have misunderstood, she teased, not wanting to give away why she really knew so much about him. Tell a guy you knew he wore boxers and size-thirteen boots and liked his waffles with chopped bananas and hed be bound to get crazy ideas and call her a stalker. So youre not a SEAL? You have no stories about growing up with Lara? You dont have any hobbies or interests?
His lips quirked.
I am a SEAL, and what I do tends to be classified. If I told stories about Lara, shed likely tell some about me. I dont remember any embarrassing ones, but Im sure she can. And no, I dont have any hobbies.
His hands shifted from her waist to cup her hips, his fingers brushing the top curve of her butt.
And interests? Frankie asked, her words just above a whisper.
Right now my only interest is you, he confessed quietly, his body moving against hers in time with the melody coming from the outdoor speakers.
See, this kind of trouble, its good, she told him, surprised she could even form words. Her heart was racing, her pulse dancing way too fast for the music. Her stomach was knotted, but she was too overwhelmed to tell if it was nerves or excitement.
You think so? he asked as his lips brushed over hers. Soft, so gentle that she almost whimpered at the sweetness. And almost groaned when he pulled away.
Oh, yeah. He was worth the trouble. Her breath a little shaky, Frankie leaned back to stare at Phillip, trying to gauge his thoughts. Or, more important, his decision on whether she was worth the trouble.
Wanna leave? She figured shed better do the asking, since she knew he wouldnt.
Good guys, proper guys like Phillip, they didnt suggest one-night stands with women they thought were strangers. Shed wondered if his years in the Navy had changed that. She was glad it hadnt, but man, it wouldve been so much easier if he just grabbed her and dragged her away.
Since he wouldnt, she decided she would.
Come on, she insisted, ignoring the chill as she stepped out of his arms and grabbed his hand. She turned toward the elevator, but her feet were frozen to the floor.
Frankie...
If she hesitated, hed say goodbye. Hed go back inside, say goodbye and that would be it. She wet her lips, tasting him.
She wanted him even more now than shed ever dreamed she could. But nowhere in her imagination had she fantasized about dragging him off to sexual nirvana. It was a little unnerving. But not once in any of her fantasies had she chickened out.
So...
Come on, she said again, tugging his hand. She stopped to grab their glasses and what was left of the champagne, then tilted her head toward the elevator.
Lets see how exciting trouble can be, she suggested.
This isnt a good idea, Phillip murmured, looking back at the party as though he might actually consider joining the conga line to escape.
Why? Frankie asked, coming around to face him, so close the metal disks of her dress were probably leaving an imprint on both of their bodies.
Im not a relationship kind of guy, he warned huskily, his gaze locked on his fingers as they trailed down her cheek, over her chin and along her throat.
Im not looking for a relationship, she told him quietly, taking his hand in hers and pressing it against the curve of her breast above her dress.
No. She didnt want the prince forever.
She just wanted him for one hot night.
* * *
PHILLIP RACKED HIS BRAIN, wondering where the hell logic, caution and good sense had gone. Because, like Elvis, they had clearly left the building.
For once, though, he didnt care.
For the first time in months, he felt alive.
Loosed from the vicious grip of memories, his body celebrated its freedom by reminding him of all the reasons it felt great to be a man. Most of them below the belt and all of them quite happy to follow Frankie into that elevator.
So why was he hesitating?
He glanced at the party in the penthouse again, and closed his eyes. That was why. Family expectations, polite behavior and orders all demanded that he go back in there.
All his life, hed met expectations, behaved appropriately and complied with demands before they were issued. He lived for orders, had been groomed to issue them. His entire life was a lesson in discipline.
And he was so damned tired of it.
He looked at Frankie, watching the way the neon from the Vegas night sky played over her hair. Her eyes were like midnight, dancing with the same delight that played out over her full lips. She was sexy, so temptingly sexy.
It wasnt that he went through life ignoring temptation; hed simply trained himself not to see it. But there was no denying that he saw her, in all her tempting glory. His gaze shifted from Frankies face, drifting down her body. Curves that even a dress of mirrors couldnt detract from. And those legs. Phillips eyes shifted to take in their long, golden length. Would they feel as silky as they looked? She was on the short side, but her legs were so long. Long enough, hed bet, to wrap around his waist.
Want hit him hard, hotter and faster than hed ever felt before. Lust was the only word for it. Desire was too tame, passion too soft. This was edgy, needy, demanding.
Way too much for that simple kiss theyd shared.
Because his professionand his personalitydemanded accuracy, he needed to find out.
Was it really lust?
Or was it all in his head?
His gaze locked on hers, Phillip stepped closer. Her dress jingled and her lips parted. He took her mouth. This kiss was soft, too. A brush of the lips, sweet and tasting of champagne. He shifted the angle, his tongue sliding along the seam of her mouth.
It was as if hed flipped a switch.
Hers, his, he had no idea.
But the kiss went wild.
She nipped at his bottom lip.
His tongue demanded entrance, thrusting, swirling, taking. Giving. Tiny explosions, a minefield of emotional bombs, burst inside him. He couldnt think, couldnt focus.
He could only feel, taste. Want.
Oh, God, he wanted.
Frankies arms wrapped around him, one across his shoulder so the champagne bottle she still held smacked him in the back. The other slid lower, her hand cupping, squeezing his butt.
Phillip wanted to reciprocate.
He wanted to touch her. To feel her skin beneath his palms, under his mouth.
But not here.
Somewhere private.
Because once he started, he wasnt going to be able to stop.
He didnt care whether it was lust alone or a temporary escape from the soul-deep exhaustion that had been eating way at him.
She was the answer to the question he couldnt face.
A question that was tearing at his heart, cutting at his soul.
He knew the answer was temporary.
He didnt care.
For one night, he wantedneededwhat she could give him.
Unable to resist, he backed her up against the elevator door, his hands diving into her soft cloud of hair, holding her head steady so he didnt have to release her mouth.
For one night, he wantedneededwhat she could give him.
Unable to resist, he backed her up against the elevator door, his hands diving into her soft cloud of hair, holding her head steady so he didnt have to release her mouth.
He stabbed the call button, then lost himself in the delight of her until the doors slid open.
Inside, he said, guiding her into the car without taking his mouth from hers. He pressed her against the elevator wall as the doors closed, only letting go of her long enough to punch his floor number.
Their tongues danced, sliding over each other in the same seamless rhythm in which their bodies had moved to the music.
His brain was blessedly blank, all of his senses focused solely on Frankie. On how she felt. On how she made him feel.
Incredible.
Then she gently took his hand from her hair, sliding it down her face, over her throat. She didnt stop until his knuckles were brushing the soft flesh of her breasts, just where her dress started.
Phillip barely bit back a groan, his fingers itching to touch more. To slip beneath her dress and feel her skin, to rub his thumb over her nipple and feel it bead beneath his flesh.
But they were in an elevator. And he was only three floors down.
Then Frankie shrugged, proving once again that her dress wasnt fitted. The heavy fabric slid off her shoulder, the strap catching on her elbow.
And baring one breast.
He hated to leave the delicious haven of her lips, but he had to look. Just had to.
With one last slide of his tongue over her lower lip, he leaned back, his eyes dropping.
Holy hell, she was gorgeous.
Milky pale, with a glistening of freckles, her breast was full, the tip light coral, beaded and begging.
Unable to resist, he brushed the tip of his finger over her nipple.
Her breath caught on a whimper.
He heard a ding, vaguely realizing theyd reached his floor.
But he couldnt stop touching her. Couldnt resist rubbing the pebbled velvet again. He felt her breath catch against his lips and reveled in her reaction. Power, intense and gratifying, surged through him. Her fingers dug into his arms, kneading, then soothing.
He heard a vague ding again as he slid his lips down the slender length of her neck, breathing in her scent. Flowers and moonlight, sweet and mysterious. He wanted to lose himself in her.
More, she murmured, her hands shoving at his waist to get beneath his sweater. Her fingers were like fire on his skin, making him want things hed never wanted before. Making him need things hed never imagined.
Much more, she purred as his lips skimmed down her shoulder. His hand was on the strap of her dress, ready to push it down and feast, when he heard a loud bang.
Phillips lust cleared instantly, his body curving protectively over Frankies as his senses took inventory.
Elevator, hotel, Las Vegas.
His adrenaline leveled.
His lust surged.
Lust he wasnt going to slake in a damned elevator.
Phillip wasnt sure how they made it to his room without invoking any public-indecency laws. Of course, the laws for that kind of thing might be different in Las Vegas.
He had no idea how he found his key card; he didnt remember getting it or opening the door to his hotel room. He just knew that in less than a minute after leaving the elevator, the room door was slamming shut behind him.
Frankie sauntered ahead, her swinging hips making her dress jingle.
Champagne? she offered, giving him a teasing smile over her shoulder and holding up the half-empty bottle.
Im not thirsty, he said, stripping his sweater over his head and tossing it on the floor. Im hungry.
She turned around, her eyes glazing over as her gaze moved across his chest. He liked her reaction. The way her pupils dilated, her breath quickened.
What are you hungry for? she asked, her words husky and low.
Trouble.
Frankies laugh rang through the room, the sound filling him with delight and a weird sort of joy. Instead of trying to figure out why, he ignored it. After all, there were much more interesting things to do tonight than analyze his feelings.
Well, Im the girl for you, then, she said. Her smile was both cute and seductive as she set the bottle on the bedside table. Her eyes locked on his and she stepped forward. Not close enough for him to touch, and just far enough from him to make it clear that he was supposed to wait.
Phillip didnt know if he could.
Music? Frankie asked huskily.
Youre kidding, right?
Yeah, she said, laughing and doing that little shoulder wiggle. Im kidding.
He barely heard her words through the roaring in his head. Blood surging south, he figured.
Because her dress had finally finished the journey it had been attempting all night and hit the floor.
Leaving Frankie standing in a tiny pair of silver mesh panties and high heels.
And Phillip ready to explode.
3
FRANKIE WAS GIFTED with a vivid imagination and an active fantasy life. Shed imagined seducing Phillip a million times. Shed spent endless hours fantasizing about him seducing her. Shed dedicated countless orgasms to the cause.
She wanted this.
Shed been dreaming about it, hoping for it, planning for it, even.
Yet now that she was standing in front of Phillip in all her naked glory, she was trembling in her high heels. Part of it was unquestionably desire. But there, beneath the excitement, was fear. What if this didnt break her creative block? What if she was doomed never to make anything original again? Or worse, what if the sex was so amazing, she wanted more? What if he was so amazing, he became more than a fantasy?
The closer Phillip stepped, the faster her pulse raced. But it still couldnt keep up with the tangled thoughts speeding through her head.
So she did what any smart woman on a quest for pleasure would do. She ignored the fear and focused on the desire.
Which got easier the closer Phillip came. His green eyes were hot, his look intent as it roamed her body. Figuring tit deserved tat, her gaze shifted. Oh, baby, his shoulders were so deliciously broad. He didnt have a bodybuilders physique; he was too slender for that. But his sculpted muscles were a testament to the physical demands of his career. His skin was pale gold, his chiseled chest covered with a dusting of dark hair.
Frankies fingers itched to touch it, to know if it was silky or crisp. She wanted to slide her hands over those arms and see if her hands could even fit around those impressive biceps. Her eyes drifted lower, following the trail of hair to his slender waist and, dammit, his slacks.
She wanted him naked. She wanted to see if the rest of him was as delicious as what shed seen so far.
She raised her gaze to his face, ready to demand that he drop his drawers and put them on equal footingnudity-wise.
But then she saw the look in his eyes.
He looked fascinated. As if she were the answer to something, something he desperately needed. Her breath caught, her heart clenching at whatever was beneath that look. Then he met her gaze.
Youre like something out of a dream, he murmured. He reached out, just one finger, and skimmed it over the curve of her breast.