costumes, hangers and all, over the back of a chair, then met Marni’s eyes.
She looked like she’d been well loved.
Her hair tumbled in a tangled mass of curls over her shoulders. Her eyes were heavy with passion, makeup smudged and lips swollen. She’d tugged her clothes into place and now sat, prim as a schoolgirl, on the edge of the bed. Her feet were still bare, though. Hunter wanted to kneel between her thighs and lift one foot, cover her toes with hot kisses, then work his way up her leg.
“So?” He waited.
She swallowed hard, then lifted her chin. “So that was fun.”
“Fun?”
Hunter couldn’t help it. He laughed.
“Let me get this straight. You broke the rule by coming into the cabin during off-limit hours.” While he had unsecured top secret material out in the open, no less.
“You climbed into my bed. Rubbed your sweet ass against me until I had a hard-on to rival a railroad spike. You drove me to the brink of what had promised to be the most incredible orgasm of my life. And then you forced me to answer the door.”
He gave her an are-you-freaking-kidding-me stare.
Unfazed by his rant, Marni batted her eyelashes right back.
“What? And that isn’t fun for you?”
8
IT TOOK EVERY OUNCE of her will to keep the glib smile in place as Marni waited to see what Hunter would do. Heck, she still wasn’t sure what she was doing.
Fun?
She had no idea why that’d popped out of her mouth. Her only defense was that her brain didn’t function well on sexual overload.
Heck, one second, she’d been floating on a sea of incredible pleasure. The next, she’d been pounded back to earth. And not in the fun, sexual way she’d have enjoyed.
Her body felt as though it was going to splinter into tiny little pieces. Nerves wrapped around desire, tangling with excitement and overlaid by fear.
And Hunter just stood there, staring.
Unable to hold his gaze, she shifted her attention to the fancy clothes he’d tossed over the back of the chair.
Vividly aware that she was barefoot, as if the sight of her naked toes was the ultimate tease, she rubbed one arch against the other. Hunter’s eyes shifted to her feet. Narrowed. Heated.
Marni gulped.
She jumped up from the bed, crossing to the outfit and lifting the dress as if it were suddenly the most fascinating thing on earth.
All of her attention was focused on the man behind her.
She waited for Hunter to do something. To say anything.
But he didn’t.
He just leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, and stared. She could feel his eyes on her back, like hot lasers equipped with tiny sexual fingers that teased and tempted everywhere they touched.
Her breath only a little labored, Marni pretended she didn’t notice. Laying the dress back on the chair, she crossed to the tiny bathroom to get her brush, running it through her pillow-tangled hair. Then, realizing that this would just remind both of them why her hair had been getting tangled on the pillow, she tossed it on the table.
She looked around the room, her eyes flitting from this to that, landing everywhere but on him.
His briefcase and laptop were once again locked away.
The green landscape flew past the window like a blurred watercolor.
The bed—where just a few minutes ago he’d been inviting her to enjoy what was promising to be a pretty sweet orgasm—was mussed, with the duvet kicked to the bottom of the mattress.
Her pulse jumped ahead a few beats.
She wanted that orgasm.
She wanted it so badly, she was afraid she’d do something stupid. Something crazy. Something she’d regret, maybe not in the morning, but within a couple of days. Because she figured that was probably about how long it’d take to return from climactic pleasure la-la land.
“Are you attending the party tonight?” she asked, tossing random words out to try to defuse the tension. “It’s the big event, where everyone gets to toss out their suspicions and make accusations. I think it was Peter. He had means, opportunity and motive. What do you think?”
“I’m not interested in games.”
Well. Marni pressed her lips together. She was a smart girl. She didn’t need an interpreter or a big flashing neon sign to pick up on the double entendre.
Her fingers dug into her palms as she stared at the dress. She wasn’t trying to play a game. But she didn’t know what she wanted, either. Well, that was a lie. She wanted him. But should she give in to that