Mark sucked in a breath and pulled back to look at her as she wrapped her palm around his hot, huge p.e.n.i.s. A moment of concern lowered her brows as she rubbed her thumb along the bulging veins. It was one thing to wonder what it would be like to have s.e.x with a man hung like a p.o.r.n star. It was another to actually do it.

He tossed the box of condoms on the sofa, then he wrapped his hand around hers and moved it up and down his thick shaft. "You look worried."

"I am."

"I'll make it good."

She believed him and shoved his underwear down his legs. She knelt in front of him, licked the bead of clear liquid, and slid her tongue around the hot, bulbous head.

He groaned, and she looked up into his l.u.s.t-heavy eyes. "Do you like that?"

"Yes."

"Want more?"

"G.o.d yes." She smiled and took as much of him as possible into her mouth. His head fell back and he tangled his fingers in her hair. She sucked him hard, cupping his t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es and caressing the sensitive vein beneath the head of his p.e.n.i.s with her tongue. Within a few short moments, his s.e.m.e.n flowed hot into her mouth and hit the back of her throat. She stayed with him until it was over. Until he reached for her and lifted her to her feet.

"Thank you," he said, and pulled her naked against his chest. He kissed her and held her against him as he sat with her on the couch. Her knees rested beside his thighs and she sat naked in his lap. He might have just found release, but she was still totally turned on and her hands slid over his shoulders and arms and neck. A horrifying thought entered her head, and she pulled back to look at him.

"Can you get it up again?"

He laughed. "Is that a question or a demand?"

"Both."

"Yeh. I think I can manage it." He slid his hands to her waist. "Stand up on the couch and straddle my face," he instructed.

"What?"

"It's my turn." His grasp tightened and he helped her to her feet. She sank a little into the leather. "Like that." He looked up at her as he leaned forward and kissed the inside of her thigh. "Put your foot on my shoulder." She did and he said, "I've been dreaming about doing this to you for weeks." He parted her flesh with his free hand and took her into his hot mouth.

"Ooh, Mark," she moaned. His tongue slid across her slick flesh and he gave her the most incredible oral s.e.x of her life. He knew exactly what he was doing. He stayed at it, combining teasing, light touches and kisses like he was sucking the juice from a ripe peach. He kept at it until a wave of hot o.r.g.a.s.m shook her body. She cried out, "Oh G.o.d, Mark." Not exactly a scream; then a deep, satisfied moan started at her toes and worked its way through her body. When it was through, her limbs felt weak, and she slowly slid downward. Mark's mouth slipped across her abdomen and stomach. He kissed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and her cleavage. She slid to her knees, and with his hands free, he tore open the condom and rolled it down his long shaft. Hard again, he positioned himself between her thighs. She looked into his face as she sat. The first blunt stab widened her eyes. "I don't know if this is going to work."

He sucked in a deep breath. "Don't leave me." His hot gaze stared out at her from beneath his lowered lids. "Don't leave me now."

She lowered herself, sliding down. "I won't leave you." With each second, his gaze got even hotter.

"You're really tight."

"You're really big." Inch by inch, she continued, feeling stretched and completely impaled. He put his hands on her thighs and gently pushed her downward. She didn't feel pain, but she wasn't exactly comfortable.

He cupped her bottom in his palms. "You're so beautiful to me."

When he looked at her, his eyes all warm and velvet, she felt beautiful. He'd just given her one of the best o.r.g.a.s.ms of her life, and her heart squeezed in her chest. "Thank you."

"You ready?"

She nodded, and he lifted her up his long, thick shaft. It was a pity he had to wear a condom because she would have loved to feel hot flesh on hot flesh. Thick veins against slick v.a.g.i.n.al walls. The bulbous head of his p.e.n.i.s rubbed her G-spot and once again reawakened her pa.s.sion. Slowly she moved up and down with him, finding a perfect rhythm. A little higher and a little faster with each stroke. She grabbed on to his shoulders and matched his rhythm, riding him hard. She tilted her head back and never wanted it to end, even as she raced to completion.

"Oh my G.o.d!" She rode him with mindless pleasure and complete abandon. On and on the pleasure built. She might have called his name. She wasn't sure as she rode up and up. Higher and hotter until she hit a second peak more intense than the first. Scalding heat constricted her inner muscles and spread fire outward across her body. Every cell caught fire, and she opened her mouth and silently screamed as he continued to pump into her. Again and again until his grasp on her behind tightened and he stilled. The muscles in his arms and chest turned to stone. The breath whooshed from his lungs and he swore long and loud. The male equivalent of a scream.

Chelsea smiled.

"Did I hurt you?"

"I'm okay." She did feel a bit raw, but so content she didn't care. "Are you okay?"

Pure male c.o.c.kiness turned up the corners of his mouth. "Yeh. Your o.r.g.a.s.m lasted a long time."

"Were you worried you couldn't outlast me?"

"No. I can outlast you." He shook his head and slid his hands up her thighs to her waist.

She buried her face in his warm neck. "Can we do that some more?"

He ran his hands up her bare back. "Honey, we're going to do that all night long."

And they did. Three more times before Chelsea slipped from his bed and grabbed her dress from the floor. The sun rose through the slats in the blinds as she stepped into her dress. They'd drifted to sleep sometime around four. Sometime after Mark had made a hearty meal of frozen pizza and ice cream.

Chelsea reached for the zipper on the back of her dress and moved toward the door. She cast one last glance at the sleeping man tangled up in white sheets before she walked into the hall.

There had been several times in her life when she'd suffered the walk of shame s.e.x. When the impulses of the night before felt shameful in the harsh light of morning. When regret felt like a fifty-pound lump in her stomach.

Funny she didn't feel that way with Mark. She didn't feel ashamed. She should. Having s.e.x with him wasn't right. Bad, and she probably would feel shame and regret. Later.

But right now...right now she just felt calm. Relaxed. Happy and totally wrung out.

SIXTEEN.

Chelsea carried her shoes into Bo's apartment, tiptoeing as quietly as possible.

"Where did you spend the night?"

Her shoes fell from her hands as she spun around. Jules stood in the kitchen, once again shirtless. "Christ," she gasped, and placed a hand on her heart. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged. "Making coffee."

Coffee sounded good. "I'll be right back," she said, and ducked into her bedroom. She changed into a big hoodie and a pair of cutoff sweatpants. Her bed was still made, as if no one had slept in it. She moved across the hall and glanced into her sister's room. Bo was stretched across the yellow sheets, asleep and completely naked.

Chelsea moved into the kitchen and grabbed a mug. "So, tell me?" She poured herself a cup of coffee and glanced over at the man sitting at the table. "Are you going to make an honest woman out of my sister?"

He looked up from his newspaper. "Is Bressler going to make an honest woman out of you?"

"Who says I was with Mr. Bressler?" Lord, she hoped no one else figured it out.

"You left wearing his jacket."

Oh yeah. "How do you know it was his?"

"There were only two men there with charcoal Hugo Boss suits. Mark and Ty Savage."

G.o.d, leave it to Jules to notice something like that.

"I know you didn't go home with Ty," Jules continued, and returned his gaze to the sports page. "Besides, Bo told me you were driving him home."

"That doesn't mean I spent the night-you know-spent the night. Not like you and Bo." She sat across from him and took a sip of coffee. "That house has like six bedrooms." Then she told a huge whopper while keeping a totally straight face. "Mr. Bressler doesn't even really like me that much." Her brows lowered. Maybe it wasn't such a whopper. True, he'd liked her when she rode him like the mechanical bull at Gilley's. He'd seemed to like her in his jet tub and later in his bed.

"And you stayed in one of those?" He looked skeptical, while teetering on the edge of believing her.

She nodded just as the memory of their last time together entered her head. Good G.o.d, she'd never felt so wonderfully violated in her life. The man didn't ask permission to do anything. He just did it, and did it so well, he had her begging him not to stop. Her cheeks caught fire and she looked away.

"You're lying."

"Are you dating my sister now? Or is this a one-nighter?"

He frowned. "Don't change the subject."

She smiled and repeated her questions.

"I like Bo. A lot. I would never use her."

The statement was a pointed one, but the funny thing was, she didn't feel used. Maybe a little apprehensive and scared because she didn't know how Mark would treat her come Monday morning. But not used.

"When did you get home?" Bo asked as she walked from her bedroom tying a robe around her waist.

"A few minutes ago." Bo opened her mouth, and Chelsea held up one hand. "Mark has six bedrooms. I picked one." Which was true. She'd picked his.

"I thought he was Mr. Bressler," Jules reminded her.

Chelsea shrugged. Her attention was focused on her sister as Bo poured herself a cup of coffee. Bo slowly raised her gaze to Jules, and a little smile pushed up the corners of her lips. Jules saw it too and he returned her smile. Last night had been more than just s.e.x for the two of them. More than mutual satisfaction.

Chelsea stood. Suddenly all the regret she thought she'd feel came crashing in on her, but it wasn't the regret she expected. She didn't regret spending the night with Mark Bressler. No, her regret was that he would never look at her like Jules looked at Bo.

"I'm going back to bed," she said, and made her way down the hall. The apprehension she'd felt a few moments ago b.u.mped up a notch. What would she say to him Monday morning? And would he return to his usual MO and ig-nore her?

She didn't have to wait until Monday to find out. Mark called her at noon. She was sound asleep but she knew it was him before she opened her eyes. Not because she was psychic, but because of his special ringtone.

"Where are you?" he asked. The sound of his voice settled in her chest and made her feel kind of fuzzy and warm.

"I'm in bed."

"How long will it take you to get ready?"

She sat up. "To do what?"

"Drive to Issaquah."

"Why would I drive to Issaquah?"

"I want to look at that house up there. You're coming with me."

Typical of him not to even ask. "It's my day off."

"So?"

"So ask."

He sighed, and she could almost feel the touch of his breath on her ear. "Chelsea, would you please come with me to Issaquah?"

She swung her feet over the side of the bed. "To see the house I showed you last month?"

"Yes. Is it still on the market?"

"I don't know. Why didn't you say anything sooner?"

He laughed. "'Cause I wanted you to show me more houses."

That really made no sense.

"Can you be ready in half an hour?"

She thought of her sister and Jules. "Give me an hour and meet me out front." She didn't want her sister or Jules to see her take off with the man she worked for, but she needn't have worried. By the time she got out of the shower, her sister and Jules were gone.

Chelsea dressed strictly for comfort in a blue ankle skirt and a peasant blouse. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and slid her feet into a pair of jeweled flip-flops. As she shut the apartment door behind her, Mark's Mercedes pulled into the complex, gleaming beneath the afternoon sun. He parked in a s.p.a.ce directly in front of Chelsea, and the car door swung open. One big hand grasped the frame and he stood. He moved toward her, back to wearing his usual white T-shirt and blue nylon jogging pants. His steps were a bit slower today.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine." His brows were drawn over his brown eyes like he was angry about something. Not like the time he'd threatened to kill her angry, but angry. Or maybe he was in pain.

"You look-" His mouth on hers cut off her breath in mid-sentence. Like a lot of thing he did to her last night, the kiss was a complete ravishment. Just as she was starting to get into it, he pulled back and said, "Don't ever sneak out of my house again."

She touched her moist bottom lip. "I didn't sneak."

"You snuck."

Was he really mad because she'd left in the middle of the night? "Are you upset because I didn't wake you up before I left?"

"I'm not upset." He glanced away. "I don't get upset."

But he was. "Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

He looked back at her and let out a frustrated breath. "I don't get hurt feelings. I'm not a girl."