Chapter 12

Liz stared at the email she'd been trying to write for the last half hour. It was a simple memo. Nothing that she hadn't written before. Just a confirmation of a phone call with a copy to Dara who kept the calendar. She had a meeting with the new client next week and she needed to get her brain on straight. No more mooning over Matt Vorchak, the man who'd chosen a career over her.

Except she couldn't get the image of him as he was that morning out of her head. He was older, with a deeper mature look to him. His rugged good looks were even sexier and made her think of things she'd tried to keep buried in her mind.

"You feel so good, Lizzie."

Matt's rough voice in her ear sent chills streaking through her body. She loved he deep pitch of it, the warmth of it as it slid like a blanket over her. Lying naked together in the cabin he'd rented, a fire roaring in the fireplace providing the only light in the room, the world ceased to exist. The hair curling on his chest pressed against her naked skin, imprinting his body on her. Against her thigh she cold feel the hot, hard length of his swollen cock as it impressed itself on her body, make his unmistakable need known to her.

His hands skimmed her body, igniting little fires of their own every place they touched. Her skin suddenly felt too tight for her body, and too hot. Need, sharp and bright, coursed through her.

"I love your nipples." He swiped a tongue over one of them, then scraped it lightly with his teeth. "I love how hard they get for me, so fast. They taste like ripe little berries."

He tugged on it with his mouth again, the hot wet heat of him scorching her in the most pleasurable way. Then he turned his attention to the other one and giving it the same treatment. Then, with the tip of his tongue, he traced a light circle around each breast.

"Mmmm." The little hum slipped out between her lips.

"Feel good?" he whispered, his breath a warm caress against her skin.

"Uh huh." Everything he did felt good. So good.

"Look at me, Lizzie," he commanded.

She opened her eyes and looked into his chocolate brown ones, the amber sparkling in the glow from the fire. With the lock of hair falling over his forehead as it usually did and the strong line of his jaw, she thought he looked like Chad Hallowell, star of the new television show, For the Prosecution. Since the show debuted she'd had a major crush on the man. Once she even told Matt the reason she loved him was because he looked so much like the television star. Hallowell lived in San Antonio, in ritzy Alamo Heights. She had actually met him when the caterer she worked for during her vacations did a party for him and his wife, and nearly embarrassed herself drooling over him.

"He's a big hockey fan you know," she told him. "There's pictures of him with a bunch of star players in the den at his house. Maybe when you get to be a big star you can take your picture with him and get me his autograph."

He laughed. "Yeah, fat chance of that."

"Maybe you can hook him with your big hockey stick."

His laugh was a low, erotic rumble. "I'd rather hook you with a different kind of stick."

He pressed his groin to hers, the thick length of his swollen cock hard against her sex, the heat of him burning against her in the most pleasurable way.

"Mmmm," she murmured again, and widened her legs to accommodate him. To cradle him between her thighs. To feel the rough yet silky hair on his thighs as it brushed against her skin.

"Not yet," he told her. "I'm not done feasting."

He took his time licking his way down her body, using his tongue to caress every inch of her skin, even her arms and her wrists, and tracing the line of her navel. She wriggled with pleasure, doing her best to arch up to him, trying to drown herself in the wave of desire that washed over her with every touch.

"Stay still," he ordered. "I like tasting you."

When he finally reached the lips of her sex and drew his tongue the length of her slit she nearly came off the bed. He flicked the end of his tongue against her clit, driving white-hot shafts of electricity through her. But when he bit down on it lightly and tugged she came in a screaming orgasm, twisting in his grasp as her body shook with the spasms.

She was still shuddering when he rolled on a condom and with one powerful thrust drove into her.

"Oh, god!" She wrapped her legs around him to pull him tight to her body. He was -

Something banged into her forehead. What the hell?

"Liz? Are you okay?"

Dara's voice pierced her foggy brain. What was Dara doing in bed with her and Matt? How had she -

"Liz!" Dara's voice was louder and sharper now. "What's with you?"

Liz opened her eyes to see Dara staring at her. She blinked, and realized with embarrassing clarity she was sitting at her computer and had apparently fallen forward and hit her head on the screen.

"Are you okay?" Dara persisted. "Did you fall asleep, for god's sake?"

"No." She brushed her hand over her face. "I'm fine. I was just - thinking."

"Thinking? Your face is all flushed." She squinted her eyes. "Damn! Are you daydreaming about Matt Vorchak?"

"What? Of course not." But heat crept up her cheeks. God! She had actually been having an erotic daydream about Matt Vorchak right here in her office.

"You were!" Dara burst out laughing. "Oh! My! God! It must have been some dream, because your face is all read and you're sweating."

Holy shit!

She checked to make sure she wasn't drooling all over herself or embarrassing herself in some other way.