“I wish you’d quit talking and finish getting that condom on.”
“It’s on.” He nudged her legs apart with his feet while she pulled his shirt off over his head.
Then he picked up her left thigh and wrapped it around his waist, then held her to him with hands locked together on her lower back. Her breasts pressed into his chest, the hair there tickling her already overstimulated nipples.
“Please,” she said, her thighs open, her body throbbing, his erection teasing her with gentle nudges.
“You don’t have to beg. I’ll always give you whatever you want.”
Reese wanted to hear more in those words, wanted to ask,Promise?but her breath tore out of her in a muffled cry as Knight entered her in one smooth thrust.
And stopped. He stood still, their breath mingling, their eyes locked together, bodies pressed, as he throbbed inside her. Reese swallowed hard, feeling him pulse, holding himself back, too close to an orgasm already. His breath shuddered, and she knew what she wanted.
Rocking her hips back, she thrust onto him, enjoying the way he filled her and the vicious curse that tore from his lips. She moved again, and a third time, squeezing her inner muscles on him until he slid his hands around to her hips and met her with a thrust of his own, sending them both into an orgasm.
Reese clung to him, needing his strength to hold her up as she came in shivers of pleasure, tight and urgent.
And she knew she didn’t want to leave. Ever.
FORTY-NINE
Reese strongly suspectedMarkson was wearing a wire, and she was having a lot of fun with it. If Knight wouldn’t/couldn’t tell her what was going on with the anti-trust investigation, even after she had earned his trust and given him two weeks of Richter scale-shattering sex, then she was entitled to have a little fun.
Besides, the plane trip from Chicago to L.A., then on to Auckland, was half her life long and she was bored. Clip-your-toenails-because-there’s-nothing-better-to-do bored.
Chatterton had insisted she fly on the Delco corporate jet with him, Markson, and four other executives. Chatterton had spent the entire flight so far on the phone, racking up cell phone bills that were probably the equivalent of Reese’s New York rent.
He could afford it because he was probably charging some woman named Dottie in Jersey City three times more than her medication should cost. Reese sincerely hoped he got what was coming to him. Even if the case somehow didn’t get indicted, she was still going to splash Chatterton’s name all over the news, pointing to him as the crook that he was.
But in the meantime, she was talking to Markson, Jenkins, and Goldberg for lack of anything better to do. Russell was fast asleep, mouth open and emitting a low snore.
Since there was no way to turn the conversation to business without arousing suspicion, Reese was just going for personal entertainment value. “So, are you guys married?”
Jenkins, the youngest of the bunch, and good-looking if you liked big foreheads, laughed. “Why, are you looking?”
“No, but I have an ugly friend who is.”
They all laughed, including Markson, who looked more relaxed than…ever.
“But she only likes rich guys, so who qualifies?”
“Wait a minute,” Goldberg protested with a grin. “If she’s ugly, how is she going to hook a rich guy?”
“Good point. You’ve caught me. I made her up. I just wanted to know how much you guys make.” They’d better hope they weren’t too attached to their fancy lifestyles, since at least one of them was likely to end up in federal prison.
Reese tried to dredge up sympathy.
“I make enough,” Goldberg said, raising his whiskey to his lips.
Jenkins shrugged out of his suit jacket. “Not me. Five hundred thousand doesn’t go as far as it used to.”
Any sympathy she might have felt shriveled up and died. Reese uncrossed her leg and snorted. The man clearly hadn’t tried to live in New York on forty grand a year.
“What are you spending all that money on?” she asked him. “Botox and bourbon?”
The other two seemed to think it was funny, even if Jenkins was frowning. But he shook it off and winked. “I could spend it on you.”
There was a higher probability of Manhattan breaking free and floating off into the Atlantic.