Jennifer Seasons - Throwing Heat

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t walk away.

Peter crossed to her and scooped her up in a kiss hot enough to set the room on fire. Her full breasts pushed into his chest and his hands cupped her firm round ass, pulling her flush against him. She moaned and flung her arms around his neck, urging him on.

His conscience yelled at him and he shoved her away roughly, “I can’t.” Christ, he wanted to, but he just couldn’t. It wasn’t right.

And that’s when she reached out and grabbed his hard-on, began stroking it through his jeans, making him hiss between his teeth, and gave him a smile that was absolutely devastating. “I can.”

Then she dropped to her knees before him and yanked open his fly, freeing him, and he forgot how to think. Forgot his integrity.

Forgot everything entirely when her hot mouth wrapped around his cock. He groaned and his head fell back. Jesus, the woman knew how to please.

Somehow they made it onto the bed and Peter took control, sheer lust dictating his actions. He had her on her stomach with her ass in the air before she could gasp, his hand slipping between her legs. When she cried out and bucked against him it only served to fuel him on further.

Peter ripped off his clothing and came up behind her, breathing heavy. “Is this what you want?” he growled against her ear as he slid a finger into her, making her cry out softly and push back against him.

“Yes!” she panted into a pillow and gripped a fistful of cream comforter in both hands.

It wasn’t enough. Shifting positions, Peter grabbed her hips and raised her up further onto her knees before replacing his hand with his mouth. He almost couldn’t believe what was happening. It was way better than any fantasy.

When his tongue caressed her tender flesh, she came unraveled. Arching and moaning, Leslie came almost instantly. And it spurred him on. Without giving her a break he brought her to another screaming peak.

Pulling back, Peter sat up, and pure male ego flooded him at the sight of Leslie panting, her eyes closed and hair a mess, and smacked her on the ass, smiling. “Had enough, princess?”

She made a sound that he interpreted to mean she hadn’t. Good. He wasn’t done. Now that he had her where he’d dreamt of pretty much every night since they’d met, he was going to make it as memorable as possible for them both.

Coming up behind her, Peter covered her back with his body and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, making her sit up on her knees, and pulled her tight to him. He growled into her ear. “Ready for another one?” Making Leslie come over and over was all he wanted.

And he did. He moved his hand down her gently rounded belly, loving every inch of her womanly curves, and brought her to shuddering climax twice more, smiling darkly when she sunk her teeth into his arm. Once her tremors subsided he flipped her over, intent on watching her get off one more time before he buried himself in her and found his own release.

Her eyes fluttered open and she whispered dazedly, “You’re amazing.”

Then she focused her beautiful, almond-shaped eyes on him, and some overwhelming force slammed him in the gut like a one-ton Chevy. He gasped, unable to breathe. Fuck, why couldn’t he breathe?

Half-panicked, Peter shook his head roughly and tried to suck in air. But Leslie just kept looking at him, her eyes swimming with emotions he didn’t want to feel, and he swore when he felt the echo of them inside his own head anyway.

“In me, Peter,” she breathed. “I need to feel you inside me.” Her legs curled around his waist and pulled him to her, the head of his cock rubbing against her slick fold.

“Christ, Leslie,” he groaned and looked down into her stunningly beautiful face. Her eyes were shimmering with wetness, and as he watched one lone tear slipped down her cheek.

It gutted him.

And he went instantly limp. Pushing away from her violently, Peter leapt off the bed, panic and other feelings he couldn’t name pummeling him. He was so overwhelmed by the onslaught that he couldn’t tell one from the other. They came rushing at him so fast. All he knew was that he had to get out of there, now.

“What is it, Peter?” she asked as she sat up on her elbows, her incredible breasts on full display. Concern cut through her arousal and softened her voice.

But he couldn’t see, couldn’t think.

Ignoring her, he frantically searched for his clothes scattered across the floor. “Nothing.”

Confusion clouded her eyes. “Where are you going? What happened?” And then the words that killed him, “Don’t you want me?”

His throat squeezed shut and he couldn’t speak. So he just stood there like a jackass, staring at her until understanding dawned and her face crumpled.

“You don’t want me.” It was a statement, not a question.

Denial swirled inside him, and though he wanted to say something to reassure her that it wasn’t her, it was him, he couldn’t. So he just shrugged, not knowing what else to do.

She looked him right in the eyes and burst into tears. The hot, raging tears of a person who had reached the brink of what she could handle emotionally. She fell apart in front of him, sobs wracking her chest like they were being torn out of her from some very deep place, and Peter couldn’t handle it. Watching Leslie Cutter lose it was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

“Leslie,” he said hoarsely, desperately.

But she wasn’t listening. She was curled up in the center of his bed crying harder than any person should ever have to. And seeing her like that made his heart squeeze tight, made him want to go to her and soothe the raging tide of her sorrow.

But he didn’t know how. “Leslie,” he whispered raggedly again.

Her head whipped up, her hair a tangled mess around her anguished face. Bitter eyes stared him down, unblinking. Then she jumped off the bed, grabbed up her clothes, and rounded on him, shaking.

“Fuck you, Peter.”

Without a backward glance she ran from the hotel room.

And she took a part of his heart with her.

Present Day

PETER KOWALSKIN LOOKED through the peephole in his front door and grinned. Leslie Cutter stood on the other side, her ever-cool exterior two steps away from melting. A frown struggled to form between her perfectly groomed brows and almost succeeded.

Almost. “Open up, Kowalskin.”

His crappy day had suddenly gotten a whole lot better.

A moment ticked by while he considered whether or not to make her suffer a little and work for it. The urge to give her a hard time was almost irresistible. Few things in life were as much fun as ruffling the woman’s feathers.

“I know you’re in there. Are you going to make me wait out here all evening, or are you going to open the door and let me in?” she finished, her voice ripe with irritation.

Just because he could, Peter said loudly so she could hear him through the heavy oak door, “What’s the magic word?”

Her face tightened and her hazel eyes flashed briefly. “Seriously, Peter? How old are you?”

Old enough to know exactly how to have a really good time. “The longer you stall, the longer you stand there.”

Through the peephole he watched her roll her eyes and mutter under her breath. Finally she shook her long hair back and tipped her chin, going all haughty. “Fine. At least one of us has the capacity to be mature. Please let me in.” She added a sugary sweet smile to punctuate her request.

Pete knew she’d rather bite his head off. And it was funny. Damn funny.

Relenting, he opened the door and stepped to the side as he swept an arm wide in invitation, magnanimous as the best of hosts. “Come right on in.”

Scooping up the small leather suitcase by her feet, Leslie held her head high and strode over the threshold. “Thank you.”

The look she shot him was more like “fuck you” and he laughed heartily. “For a woman who’s temporarily homeless and in need of a place to stay, your tone is decidedly ungrateful.”

“I am ungrateful. If you were any sort of a decent landlord then I wouldn’t have a flooded apartment right now. My grandmother’s handmade quilt was destroyed because of your lack of proper plumbing maintenance.” Her lips pressed in a tight line. “Now your butt is stuck with me until everything is fixed.”

He did feel bad about that. That old converted warehouse where she lived had been nothing but a money pit since he’d purchased it a few years back. Maybe it was time to cut his losses and sell it.

Not before he made it right for Leslie, though. “The super has assured me that he’s on top of it.” And he was just going to take Jerry’s word for it, since actual property management was about the last thing he wanted to do.

With a hand at the back of his neck, Peter rubbed at the sudden tension and tossed her a lopsided grin meant to disarm. “If you don’t have rental insurance I’ll cover what’s been damaged. I know it won’t bring back your grandmother’s quilt, but it’s the best I can do.”

Leslie took two steps down into the sunken living room where his iPod was playing music softly in the background and glanced over her shoulder, her sleek sheet of hair whispering across her back with the movement. The hard glint in her eyes seemed to soften a degree. “Thanks anyway, but I’ve got it covered.”

Peter took a good long look at the woman standing in his living room and felt his palms go sweaty. It’s what always happened whenever the two of them were alone and in close proximity. Leslie was the kind of woman who had that effect on people.

“I heard about your breakup with John because of his last-minute trade to the Red Sox. Your little Southern heart couldn’t stand the idea of bedding a Northerner?”

Her chin came up. “Just because you’re from Philadelphia and you think you’re perfect doesn’t make the East Coast utopia, Kowalskin.” A mischievous glint came into her eyes. “My good Southern manners simply keep me from pointing out your delusion.”

Laughter bubbled in his chest and let loose. “Well, thank God for that. I’m not sure my heart could handle the truth.”

Her lips twitched and she looked away, but he caught the grin anyway. “I’m glad I could save you the heartache.”

Peter took the steps and padded barefoot across the plush carpet toward her. “Here, let me take your bag and show you to your room like a proper host.”

Leslie eyed him. “Since when do you give a rip about proper?”

She had a point. Since when did he give a shit? Probably since about the time she walked through his door. “I’m trying on something new.”

The woman laughed right in his face. “Good luck with that.”

Stopping directly in front of her, he could make out the gold and green flecks in her eyes. He knew that they went dark as a forest when she was aroused. Even now they were beginning to change color.

The woman was a lot of things, but immune to him wasn’t one of them.

She’d never admit to it though. Not without a good hard shove, anyway. Lucky for him he didn’t mind getting pushy.

The time had come.

Peter pressed closer to her, invading her personal space until they were eye-to-eye. Hers rounded almost imperceptibly and he grinned. But she stood her ground, squaring her shoulders and trying desperately to look down her nose at him. Given that they were about the same height he imagined it wasn’t so easy to do.

Because it was just so tempting and self-control wasn’t his strong suit, he leaned in and hovered close.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, sounding suspiciously breathy.

Taking a moment to savor the scent of her, he inhaled something creamy and coconut and bent his knees, effectively lowering himself. Tension began to coil inside him when her breasts came into view directly in front of him. Her sharp inhale pushed them out toward him and he fought back the urge to groan.

She had breasts like a goddess.

Her body went taut, but before she could snap at him, he grinned and wrapped his fingers around her suitcase handle. “Just grabbing your luggage.” He held it out for her to see. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch.” Then he stepped back, the charged air dissipating with the distance, and turned toward the stairs. “Your bedroom’s upstairs.”

Leslie cut in front of him, her ass swaying rhythmically with every step of her long legs, and he couldn’t help admiring the way the pocket stitching on her jeans drew attention to her cheeks. They were embellished with tiny sequins that sparkled with every sway of her lush hips. Once she reached the bottom step she tossed him a look. “Shows what you know. I’m not wearing underwear.”