He reached between them, holding his hips off hers so he could rub her clit while he f**ked her, keeping his gaze trained on her face.
“Let me see it,” he said, using his thumb to find the most tortured part of her, sweeping gently against the nub while continuing to rock inside her.
She trained her gaze on him as she let go, as her climax hit, the intensity of the physical pleasure combining with the emotional contact of him watching her, at the way his face contorted as he came with her, making her spiral out of control with a riot of emotions and sensations.
And then he kissed her, and she held tight to him as she continued to come, rolling over the edge again because he continued to move inside her, refusing to let go.
She didn’t want him to let go. Not until they were both spent, and Mick rolled off and left her only for a moment. Then he was back, pulling her against him and dragging the covers over them both.
Tara felt so small wrapped up in his embrace. Small and cherished as he kissed the back of her neck, held her tight and played with her breast in a lazy way that made her hot and made her smile at the same time.
“I guess I won’t be sleeping much tonight, will I?”
“Sleep’s overrated. You can sleep later.” He nipped at the back of her neck, and she shivered from the chills that skittered along her nerve endings. She turned to him, pushing him onto his back so she could climb on top of him. She felt his c**k hardening underneath her.
“You’re right. I’ll sleep later.” She bent and kissed him.
THREE
MICK ROLLED OVER, CURSING THE BRIGHT SUNLIGHT that poured into his room. He dragged the covers over his head, but the pounding wouldn’t stop.
It couldn’t be a hangover. He knew better. He cracked one eye open and listened.
Someone was at the door.
Oh, yeah. Hotel room. He threw the covers off, expecting to find Tara in bed with him.
But she wasn’t. As he rounded the corner to the bathroom, he noticed she wasn’t there either.
“Housekeeping.” The pounding intensified.
“I’m not dressed. Come back later.”
“Checkout was an hour ago, sir,” the person outside the door said with an obvious sigh of frustration that Mick had no trouble understanding.
Mick dragged his fingers through his hair. “Oh. Sorry. I’ll be out shortly.”
He went to the bathroom and took a fast shower, then packed up his things, trying not to think about the woman he’d shared a bed with last night. He wasn’t one to worry about women he slept with, since he was usually the one to get them out of his room before he went to sleep. The last thing he wanted was to face the morning after and the possibility that a woman would want a next day with him. He didn’t do next days or next dates or next anythings with women.
But with Tara, it had been different. He was disappointed as hell to find her gone when he woke up.
Where the hell was she? The last thing he remembered was passing out with her curled up next to him. It had to have been near dawn when they finally fell asleep, because he remembered them laughing about the sky outside lightening by the time they’d finally gotten their fill of each other.
Not that he had been even close to getting his fill. Exhaustion had finally set in, but Mick hadn’t come close to getting enough of Tara.
He wanted a next day with her. And he had no idea how to reach her, didn’t get her number. But he knew how to find out.
After he checked out and climbed into his car, he pulled out his phone and dialed Elizabeth’s number. If anyone could find someone, it was his agent.
“Shouldn’t you be working out with your trainer or in bed with some hot woman? And if you are in bed with some hot model or actress, let me know when and where so I can send a photographer to get a pic, ’kay?”
He laughed. “No. I need you to find a woman for me.”
“I’m appalled you think of me as your pimp, Mick. It’s sort of true, but I’m appalled. Who is she?”
“Tara Lincoln. She was the event organizer for last night’s team party.”
“Why do you want to find her?”
“None of your business. Just get me her info.”
“Planning a little soiree of your own?”
Mick snickered. “Yeah, you know me. Just a wild party guy.”
“Please. If you were, my job would be a lot easier. I’ll get her info and get back to you.”
Mick clicked off and headed home to his condo in the East Bay. He pulled into the garage, closed the door, and grabbed his overnight bag. His cell vibrated before he got to the kitchen.
“That was fast,” he said, grabbing for the orange juice and hitting the speaker on his cell.
He knew Liz was grinning. “I’m just that good, Mick. Tara Lincoln, owner of The Right Touch. The business is located in Concord. Grab a pen and I’ll give you her phone number and address. This is her business address and office phone number. If you want her personal info, it might take me all of an hour.”
“You scare me, Liz.” He grabbed a pen and the pad of paper on the kitchen counter. “The business information is good enough. I don’t need you digging up her ancestry.”
“I might if you’re thinking of dating this woman. I’d need to know more about her.”
“Not even my mother knows as much about the women I date as you do.”
“Your mother isn’t as invested in your career as I am. One misstep and you’re f**ked.”
“And all that money you make off me goes down the tubes.”
“I’m crushed, Mick. You know how much I adore you.”
Mick shook his head and smiled. Where would he be without Elizabeth Darnell in his life? A hot redhead who looked more like one of those fashion models he dated, no one looking at her would think she was a sports agent with the killer instinct of a hungry shark. She was the main reason he and his brother were multimillionaires. “Yeah, yeah. I’m touched by your sincerity. Just give me what you’ve got.”
After he hung up with Liz, he changed and took a run in the park first, needing to clear his head and draw some oxygen into his lungs. It was mid-June and warm in the East Bay, especially since he’d gotten a late start. He was usually up at dawn and running early. Now it was afternoon, and the sun beat down on him as he rounded the turn on the jogging trail, ignoring the sweat that streamed down his back, concentrating only on his breathing and his time.