Dance with the Devil (5 page)

“Hell, no,” Jack said with a grin. “I'm pleased as hell that you feel you have to
lie
about it.”

“I'm not ly—”

“Still hunting for a husband?” he taunted. He folded his arms and leaned against the door frame. How appropriate that the louvers in the door painted tiger stripes across his face and body.

“Your source is my loose-lipped mother, who considers it a hunt. I, on the other hand, consider it to be more like holding auditions. I'm sure I'll find what I'm looking for,” Mia said. The devil had refused to make a commitment. In a fit of anger, Mia had told him she'd be married this summer—either to him or someone else. She was thirty-two. She wanted to start the rest of her life now, while she still had all her working parts. Pinning Jack down to a commitment had been like trying to hold Jell-O in her fist.

“Did you think Davis was going to be the one?”

“He had potential,” she admitted, glancing at him for a split second, just long enough to make sure he knew she was still pissed. “I hope you had fun playing me like that. It was childish, Jack. Beneath you.”

He'd used his knowledge of her to create the perfect man. And she
had
fallen for it. Hook, line and sinker.

“The only thing that was a lie was the name.”

She shot him a skeptical glance over her shoulder and shook her head, “Sure, you already said that. And I already told you I don't believe it.” Damn it, why was this safe so stubborn?

“I wasn't ready for a commitment.”

“I noticed.”

“We were terrific together, Mia. Admit it.”

“Sure we were. Unfortunately you took the low road while I took the high road. And never the twain shall meet.”

“Why's it so important to you to get married? The sex was outstanding, we're compatible as hell…. Why blow something that amazing for some pie in the sky license? What does a bit of paper matter anyway?”

She flashed him a quick look over her shoulder. “See Jack? That piece of paper means the world to me. You don't get it? Fine. I'm looking for someone who
will
get it.”

“Why isn't it enough to have someone—me—who
wants
to be with you?”

“Because I want forever, not just today.”

“You know as well as I do,” he said, his voice a tight cord of need, mingled with frustration, “in our business, there isn't always a forever.”

“God, Jack,” she said on a sigh as she leaned her forehead on the still closed safe, “
no one
gets a guarantee. An
accountant
could wake up fine and be dead by sunset. What I want is the commitment to
try
for forever.”

“Darling…” He trailed one finger down her bare back and Mia shivered from both his touch and the endearment she'd missed for eight long months. “You know I…” His voice trailed off.

She laughed shortly, quietly, heartbreak coloring the sound. “You can't even say it.”

“Fine,” he snapped. “I'm a dog. What are you going to do? Pick one of your blind dates and ask him to marry you?”

“Why not?”

“Aren't you running out of guys?”

“DC's a big place, I haven't even gotten started. Thanks to urban sprawl, I can work my way from Metro Center out to Crystal City. If that doesn't work, I can head up the 270 corridor all the way to Pennsylvania if necessary. I have time.”

“Thought you were getting married this summer?”

“Plenty of time.” Mia said shortly. Four, five months should be plenty of time. Plenty of time to get Jack Ryan out of her system, meet a new man and arrange the wedding.

Who was she trying to fool? Herself? Or Jack?

“So you'd choose some as yet unknown blind date over me and amazing sex?”

“See, Jack? That's why you earn the big bucks. Because you're so clever. Now be quiet and let me get this thing open and this night
over
with.”

“By all means, go for it.”

The last tumbler fell into place and Mia swung the door open. How nice of the lady of the house to be so neat and organized. Her jewelry was in slender black leather cases, each labeled clearly with its contents. Her emeralds had a shelf all their own.

A few papers had been slipped sideways next to the boxes. Mia withdrew them, careful to keep everything in the same order. The disk was tucked into a legal envelope marked Insurance. “Got it. Here.” She shoved the disk into his hand. “Thanks for a lovely evening. Don't call me, I'll call you. Bye—Uh-oh!” she whispered. “Someone's coming. Hit the li—”

The small room went charcoal-gray as Jack simultaneously hit the light switch and pulled the double doors shut.

Bars of light sliced across them from the bedroom. While the closet was large, it wouldn't be large enough to hide two adults if someone decided to open the doors.

Mia glared at Jack. “Didn't you lock the door?” she mouthed silently.

Looking through the slats of the door, he nodded, then jerked his head to indicate the man and woman who'd entered the bedroom. The couple, holding onto each other like shipwreck victims in a storm tossed sea, still took the time to relock the door behind them. They had a key.

Mia's eyes widened. A married senator from California and her young—good Lord!
very
young—boyfriend. This couldn't be happening! Surely they weren't going to…Oh crap! They were!

The couple didn't so much flow together as they attacked each other like wild animals, falling onto the velvet bedspread with muffled groans and whimpers of unbridled lust. Arms and legs tangled as they tried to rip off each other's clothes in a frenzy.

No way,
Mia thought with growing horror. She took a step back and came up hard against Jack's chest. He caught her by the upper arms, presumably to prevent them from crashing to the floor. His strong fingers dug into her tender skin as the other couple thrashed about on the bed.

Her heartbeat manic, Mia squeezed her eyes shut. Oh no, no, no!

T
HE YOUNG GUY
was all hands and speed. Lord, he was pistol-hot and in an all fired hurry. Mia tried not to watch the couple rolling around on the bed. She forced her eyes shut and swallowed hard. Maybe, she told herself, if she kept her eyes tightly closed, and stood very, very still, it would be over in a few minutes. They'd leave and no one would be any the wiser.

Unfortunately the way her luck was running tonight, Boy-toy probably had the staying power of a Don Juan.

In the darkness behind her closed lids the animal panting and half-choked groans from the couple a few feet away made sweat pop out on her brow and her center prickle with empathetic longing. Wasn't it bad enough that she'd been on the razor edge of arousal since she'd realized Jack was her blind date for the evening?

This
was not helping matters.

Mia opened one eye a slit. Hell,
they
were so busy ripping each other's clothes off she could probably dash right past them and make a clean getaway.

She was tempted to do just that as Jack slid strong hands down her arms and she found herself leaning against him weakly. Her legs weren't going to carry her anywhere. Not right now anyway.

She tried to ignore the thrill of excitement swiftly running through her veins, fast and hot, as Jack rocked against her slowly. His erection fitted against her like the missing piece in a jigsaw puzzle. Mia shivered, but shifted out of range. Not that there was a lot of room to maneuver. One wrong move and she and Jack would explode through the doors and end up sprawling out at the foot of the bed with the horny couple.

“Is this shocking your Puritan sensibilities, my sweet, precious darling?” Jack whispered in her ear easily pulling her back to where he wanted her.

It would've been nice if she could form a coherent word. Unfortunately she couldn't even form a coherent
thought.
Mia found that her eyes were open.

She frowned. She shouldn't be watching this.
They
shouldn't be watching this. Everyone would be much happier if
nobody
was watching this, she thought hysterically. Sex wasn't supposed to be a spectator sport. Fortunately, making love
felt
a lot better than it
looked.

The young stud managed to get the senator's dress off. He was having bit of a problem with her bra however. Impatient, he shoved it up on her chest and bent his head to give it enthusiastic attention.

Mia's nipples ached in response.

No fair.

Her head fell back against Jack's chest. She watched the other couple with an intensity that should've worried her, but somehow didn't.

In the darkness, she and Jack were cradled in a net of silence and shadow. On the bed in front of them, the mindless couple performed like actors on a stage. It was a private moment—for all four of them.

The senator ripped off her stud's shirt. Buttons flew.
Now that was going to be hard to explain downstairs.
Neither of them seemed to care. The older woman's hands looked startlingly white on the young man's smooth, tanned skin. Her long red nails lethal as she scored his skin from nipples to belly. The boy-toy's back arched as the woman went for his belt and zipper with an intensity that she'd never shown on Capitol Hill.

When Don Juan had been divested of all the clothes below his waist, the senator smiled and, with hands and mouth, went to work on what had been revealed. The young man hissed in a breath, threw his head back and moaned tightly.

Everything in Mia went hot and still. That ache that had been haunting her all night suddenly pulsed into life, making her bones shake and quiver. She watched, unable to look away, caught and mesmerized by the actions just a few feet from her. Then Jack covered her breasts with his hands, cupping then squeezing gently. Mia locked her jaw tight to keep from moaning. She pressed her palms over the back of his much larger hands, and pressed down. Showing him wordlessly what she needed.

His fingers tightened on her aching breasts. Rough, greedy. Rubbing, coaxing her nipples to hard painful points. Showing none of the restraint he'd show her moments before.

Thank God. Gentle wouldn't do it now. She wanted more. Needed more. She almost keened with the intensity of sensation as Jack manipulated her nipples through the sheer fabric of bra and silk dress. Her hands dropped to her sides and her head fell back, baring her throat.

He bent his head to kiss the side of her neck, a particularly sensitive spot, and he went right to it. Mia arched her throat to give him better access, and used her own hand to guide his between the layers of fabric so he could touch her bare skin. Her womb clenched as if he was already inside her.

She stifled a moan at the piercingly sweet sensation of Jake's callused fingers caressing her feverish skin. As busy as the other couple were, another sound might alert them to the voyeurs in the closet. Mia bit her lip.

To ease her own heat she ground her bottom against Jack. He was as hard as she'd ever felt him. And furnace hot. A jolt of lust as pure and sharp as white lightning zinged through her from neck to groin. She managed not to scream his name only by sinking her teeth even harder into her lower lip.

Jack had always had the unnerving knack of knowing exactly how to make her shudder and moan while keeping her teetering on the very brink, then drawing back just enough to keep her simmering.

Boil. Simmer. Boil. Simmer. Explode.

His hot breath stirred the fine hairs on her nape, making her shiver. The devil bit the side of her neck. It wasn't a gentle nip either—she felt the sharp edge of his teeth on the tense cords of her throat. The fine tremors became a shudder that shook her whole body. He kissed the sting. Succulent, wet kisses, down the side of her throat, around to her nape. He licked her skin to cool it, then heated her flesh with more sharp hot nibbles. Mia's knees buckled.

Only his strong hands kept her upright. Her entire body throbbed and pulsed. Her goose bumps had goose bumps. Everything inside her turned to churning, seething, hot, molten liquid.

And then his hand left her breast.

Mia scowled in the tiger-striped darkness. She stared out the slits in the closet door at the couple still wrapped up in each other. In the brightly lit bedroom Don Juan had his pants around his hairy ankles and the senator was still busy in the area of his lap. The woman lifted her head—Mia could only see her from the back, thank God—and pulled her lover's face down to hers for a hungry kiss.

Mia's breasts ached fiercely. She fumbled behind her, wanting Jack's hand on her. He grabbed her hands and placed them on her own breasts. Shocked, she felt the hard points of her own aroused nipples. Pressing them hard against her chest helped, but she'd rather have Jack's hands—Oh!

He was bunching her dress up to her waist, his hands skimming up her legs and past the edge of her thigh-highs—and hadn't
that
been a good choice?—to touch bare skin.

“God,” he breathed hoarsely against her ear. “Feels just the same.”

Mia didn't give a damn if he meant he recognized, by feel, the thong, or if he was referring to her butt cheeks, which he was reverently caressing.

“Hold this,” he instructed on an urgent breath, shoving a handful of fabric at her. Mia grabbed a few yards of silk dress and hung on as his hand slid across her belly and down.

She shuddered as his fingers slipped under the edge of her panties to encounter wet heat. He slid two fingers deep inside her, pulling her tightly against him.

Through the slats of the door she watched with glazed eyes as the young stud lay back against the pillow. She felt the steel-hard press of Jack's erection nuzzling against her.

Her muscles clenched and tightened against his hand as he pressed the heel of his palm hard against her aching heat at the same time that he bit the back of her neck.

On the bed, the senator hiked up her skirt past her thighs and clambered onto the mattress. The stud reached for her with a hungry smile.

Please. Please. Please.
Mia chanted in her head as Jack's fingers worked her body into a mindless symphony of sensation. He pushed her higher, higher, and still it wasn't enough. She wanted more than his fingers inside her. She wanted him inside her
now.

The senator flung her leg over her young lover's hip and sank down on him slowly. The guy was panting in earnest now. Mia knew just how he felt. She couldn't look away. Couldn't stop watching.

She let go of the silk fabric and fumbled behind her, forcing a hand between their bodies, struggling to pull down Jack's zipper. An almost impossible task considering how erect he was.

At her touch, he stiffened, his whole body coiled as tight as a spring. Mia kept her gaze fixed on the tableau in front of them, while she diligently worked to free Jack. Don Juan's hands clutched the senator's hips as she moved over him.

Jack finally helped her with the recalcitrant zipper. Mia braced one arm on the doorjamb to keep them both upright, even while bending slightly. Her stomach swirled, her blood pumped. So dangerous. So exciting. So…
frustrating!
This wasn't going to work.

The other couple was moaning and panting. Mia wanted to scream.

Jack's zipper was staggering down. Mia bit back a groan. A little more, more—tooth, by damn metal tooth.

Hurry. Hurry.

Their hands bumped and fumbled together, in too much of a rush to be coordinated.

Hurry!

Finally he put an implacable hand on her back and gently pushed her forward. She went willingly, bracing one arm on the doorjamb, bending enough that he could enter her.

Now, now, now,
her mind screamed. She couldn't stop watching the couple on the bed, and while she watched them, Jack slid into her slick heat like a train going through a tunnel at full speed.

Bliss.

He made a low raw, primitive sound as he filled her, moving until she could swear she felt him touch the bottom of her heart. And still, it wasn't enough. She wanted more. Wanted him to be so deep within that he'd never find his way out again. In that wild half second when all she could feel was his length, she knew that that was all she'd ever really need.

He gripped her hips and held her dead still. The sensation of their joining so intense, so sharp, neither dared move.

The couple on the bed didn't have the same problem. Their bodies slick with sweat, their groans melding into one long song of need, their bodies heaved together noisily.

Jack started to move. He kept pace with the couple on the bed. In the shadows, their lower bodies slammed together at fever pitch. Mia's skin felt on fire, her body arched and bucked against Jack's.

She watched the couple in front of her, racing toward the same conclusion she and Jack had nearly reached.

How they remained standing she had no idea.

His breath harsh, he returned his fingers to her slick heat, bringing her close, so close…

“Let go,” he whispered in her ear. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

Mia didn't have a choice. The climax crashed over her with such force she almost passed out. Her body arched and bucked in unison with Jack's. Her fingers clutched at the doorjamb. In front of her, the couple on the bed reached their climax and the noise covered the soft moan Mia allowed escape from her throat.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to make him stop. She wanted it to last forever.

Too much. She was going to shatter and break apart.

He continued to rock his body into hers. He prolonged her multiple orgasm beyond endurance. Mia's body shuddered and quaked under the onslaught as he let one climax roll into the next and then the next.

She didn't know where his body ended and hers began. Any second now she was going to shatter into a gazillion pieces and, come morning, Mrs. Ambassador would find Mia bits all over her closet.

“Finish,” Mia begged.

“I'll never be finished with you,” Jack muttered. “Come again.”

“N—”
Yes!
Sparklers and rainbows. Shooting stars and fiery waterfalls. Jack could still make Mia's earth move.

She came again, riding that last blast of sensation along with Jack, who finally surrendered and gave himself up to his own climax.

A moment later, she struggled to steal a breath, to regain her equilibrium. He held her, just held her against him, as her rioting nerves settled to a simmer and her brain went back on line.

Jack petted her breasts and stroked the sensitive skin on her belly until she managed to find a little breath and her legs could support her. A shiver ran up her spine as the silk of her dress slithered down her legs.

She blinked. The couple on the bed were dressing. Good old Don Juan had livid red scratches on his chest and his shirt bunched in his hand.