One Night to Risk It All Read online

  He lifted his head. “Got one kiss in this year. I want you to be the first kiss of the new year too.”

  “That’s why I led you out here,” she said, tipping her head back and studying him. Her long hair brushed over her shoulder, and he lifted one hand to twirl a tendril around his finger. It was soft and light, as he expected.

  When he heard everyone yell, “Happy New Year,” he leaned in, brushing his mouth over hers. “Happy New Year.”

  She kissed him again. None of the tentative teasing stuff he’d been doing, but full-on kissed him. He pulled her closer into his embrace, wrapping his arms around her waist.

  Loving the feel of her breasts against his chest and her hips nestled close to his, he pressed his hand against her lower back as she sucked his tongue deeper into her mouth.

  He felt his engine roar to life and knew that he was going to get from zero to sixty in a nanosecond with this woman. But they were in public. At a party. A party his parents were attending.

  He stepped back, keeping his hold on her waist but breaking the kiss. She looked up at him, a flush on her cheeks and neck, her breath coming in quick bursts. “What’s the matter?”

  “I think we should get out of here before this kiss gets out of control,” he said.

  “Is it getting out of control?” she teased, drawing her finger down the column of his throat and running it around the collar of his tuxedo.

  A shiver of pure sensual delight went through him.

  He was pretty close to saying the hell with it and leading her to the secluded section of the balcony behind the large potted fir tree. But this wasn’t some foreign city after a race. This was his sister-in-law’s house, where she had family and friends over, and he knew that he had to be discreet.

  But then she leaned in, wrapping her free arm around his shoulders, and he forgot about everything but the feel of her in his arms and her mouth under his. Her taste was addictive, and he had the feeling that he might never get his fill of her.

  He skimmed his hand down her back. The satin material of her dress was soft but not as velvety as her skin. He cupped her butt and lifted her off her feet more fully into his embrace. She moaned deep in her throat, and his engines roared to life.

  Yeah, she had him firing on all cylinders. She was exactly what he needed tonight. Maybe she was the reason he’d given in to the pressure of his family and come along. He needed this kind of fun. Someone who was here for her own reasons, even if she might be trying to get with him to put another notch in her lipstick case.

  Just two people with a strong attraction who wanted each other.

  It had been a long time since he’d done this. A little over a year. He liked sex, but women were a distraction and he had been focused on winning. But this was one night. A New Year’s gift from the universe.

  “Inigo? You out here? Mom needs her New Year’s kiss,” his sister called from the patio door.

  He broke the kiss and stepped away toward his sister, determined to hustle her back inside.

  “I’ll be right in, Bia. Tell Mom to kiss Dad again. He’s definitely in the mood for it,” he said.

  “He’s the one who sent me to find you. Mom won’t leave until she’s kissed all of her kids.”

  He heard the woman behind him chuckle and turned back toward her. She wiped his lips with her finger, and he guessed he’d been wearing her lipstick.

  “Go on. I’ll meet you inside.”

  He nodded and walked away, still in a sensual haze. The last thing he wanted to do was hang out with his parents, but he knew they were sticklers for holiday rituals.

  Bianca linked her arm through his, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Sorry I had to pull you away from your lady. I think Dad sent me because he knew the boys would tease you endlessly.”

  “Probably. Thanks for that,” he said.

  “So who is she?”

  He shook his head. “Uh, I didn’t ask her name.”

  “Oh, just went straight for the kiss,” Bianca teased.

  “Something like that,” he said as they reached his parents. He hugged them both and wished them happy new year.

  “Happy New Year, Inigo,” his father said as he hugged him. “Looks like my instincts were right about you and the lady.”

  “Dad,” he warned his father. His father was usually more subtle than his mom but they both wanted him to find someone and “settle down.”

  “Just happy to see you smiling off the track,” his father said.

  “Me too,” he admitted.

  Then he bade his family good-night and went to find the blonde temptress he’d kissed earlier.

  “I don’t want to push my luck, but do you want to come back to my room?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  Two

  The suite he’d been given at the O’Malley compound, Maison de Houblon, was in a large guesthouse off the pool. It had a great room with a kitchen and living room area and then a large bedroom that had French doors that overlooked the ocean. But tonight, he was more concerned with the view in his arms.

  “I don’t even know your name,” he said.

  “Marielle. You?” she asked. There was a lilt to her words, a patrician New England accent that he hadn’t really noticed before this moment.

  “Inigo,” he said.

  She leaned back and looked up at him. He wondered what she saw.

  “Inigo.” She said his name slowly, and he liked the sound of it on her lips.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “‘Ma’am’? There’s the Texas,” she said with a wink.

  “I’ll be honest, you’re not going to forget I’m Texan,” he admitted. No matter how much he traveled around the world or hung out with the Italian owners of Moretti Motors, he was still a Texas man at heart. He wore designer suits and handmade loafers at all the press events and prerace functions he went to, but in his downtime, when he was at home, he preferred jeans and boots.

  “Good. I wouldn’t want you to be anything other than what you are,” she said, running her hand down his chest, her finger brushing over the studs that kept his tuxedo shirt closed. He felt the warmth of her fingers through the layers of fabric.

  “I don’t have that ability. In fact, my boss is always telling me to wait five seconds before I respond.”

  “Why?”

  “He keeps hoping that common sense will kick in,” Inigo admitted.

  “Does it ever?” she asked, running her finger over his bottom lip.

  Her touch sent a tingle straight down his spine, making him harden. He pulled her closer, skimming his hands over her hips and holding her loosely. “Nope.”

  She threw her head back and laughed, and everything masculine in him sprang to attention, demanding he make this woman his. He caught the sound of her laughter with his mouth, kissing her, and feeling alive for the first time in a long time.

  He tucked that fact away for later but knew that he was holding someone special. Someone who was making him realize that there was life beyond the track.

  He felt her hands between them, her fingers moving methodically. He heard the sound of the shirt studs as they dropped to the floor with a soft pinging noise. He lifted her off her feet and turned, moving backward until he felt the bed behind him, and then he sat down. She stood between his spread thighs, her hands on his shoulders.

  “Moving a little fast, aren’t you?” she asked in a teasing tone.

  “I’m sort of known for my speed,” he said, then realized how that sounded. “Not that anyone ever complained.”

  She just threw her head back and laughed and said, “Did you stick around long enough to find out if they did, speedy?”

  “Yes. I’m not a one-and-done kind of guy,” he said. It had been a really long time since he’d laughed this much with someone. Spontaneously he put his arms around
her body and drew her close, the fabric of her satiny dress scrunching up under his arms. He hugged her to him. Just for a moment he wanted to savor this feeling of lightness. Like there was nothing but fun when it came to this woman.

  “What’s this?”

  “It’s just been a while since I’ve laughed this much,” he said. “Thanks.”

  “You’re very welcome,” she said, pushing her fingers through his hair and rubbing his scalp as he tipped his head back and looked up at her. “You’re different.”

  “So I’ve been told,” he murmured as her lips came down on his. Their tongues met and rubbed against each other.

  She tasted so damned good. He had noted it the first time they kissed, and it was difficult for him to forget. She made him hungrier for more. If hooking up with her made him feel this good, he might have to break his rule about celibacy during the racing season and keep seeing her.

  She framed his face with her hands, tipping his head back. The bed dipped as she put one knee on it next to his hips and half straddled him. He fell back on the bed, using his arms around her waist to bring her with him. He liked the way she felt pressed against him from shoulders to waist.

  He ran his hands up and down her back, cupping her butt as she deepened the kiss. Though he’d joked about being known for his speed, he’d never been one to rush sex. And it seemed neither was she. She took her time exploring his mouth and moving against him in small subtle movements that made him wish they were naked. But he didn’t want to stop kissing her to remove their clothes.

  She circled her finger around the back of his ear, rubbing against the side of his neck, which made him so hot and hard that he thought he would explode.

  He put his hands on her thighs. Her legs were firm and the skin soft. She wasn’t wearing hose, so he was touching her bare skin as he spread his fingers wide and squeezed gently.

  She shifted her legs against his as he traced one finger up the back of her thigh. She mumbled something against his lips, but he didn’t register the words, just the husky tone of her voice and the way she continued to move against him. Her mouth followed the path of her finger down his neck. His shirt fell open as she moved down his body.

  Pushing the hem of her dress up to her waist, he noticed she had on the tiniest black thong. She shifted, kicking off her heels and sitting back as she looked down at his body. He had an intense workout routine to keep in shape. Other athletes didn’t always realize the discipline it took to be a driver.

  Marielle seemed to like his muscled chest. She pushed the shirt off his shoulders, and he sat up, shrugging out of first one sleeve and then the other.

  He had a tattoo on the inside of his left arm that read, If Everything Seems Under Control, You’re Not Going Fast Enough. She traced the tattoo and arched one eyebrow as she looked back at him.

  “Does everything seem under control?” she asked.

  “No, it doesn’t,” he said, wrapping one hand in her long blond hair and bringing his mouth back down on hers.

  He didn’t want to talk or think about racing right now. He had been steadily getting better on the track, and a big part of him believed that was because he’d quit hooking up with women, but tonight he didn’t want to think about that. It had been too long, she felt too good and it was a new year.

  She put one hand between them on his chest. Her fingers spread wide, and her nails scored his skin lightly. He shuddered and felt himself harden further. She eased her hips forward, her center rubbing against the ridge of his erection.

  He groaned as his hips jutted up against her. Oh, damn. This was going to be harder than he thought. It had been too long since he’d held a woman in his arms, and his body seemed to be on autopilot. Like when he was on the final lap and saw the finish line, he was ready to go. He reached between their bodies, intent on freeing himself, finding a condom and driving himself home inside her.

  But the back of his fingers brushed against her underwear, and he felt her heat. She made a little sound at the touch against her intimate flesh, and he turned his hand, cupping her and rubbing just the tip of his forefinger between her legs. She spread her thighs farther apart, and he leaned back to give himself more room as he ran his finger around the edge of her thong panties and then dipped it inside, finally pushing his entire hand into the front of her underwear and caressing her. He parted her, tapping her clit lightly. She moaned, and her fingernails dug into his chest a little deeper. He tangled his other hand in her hair and brought his mouth down on hers.

  He kissed her as he continued to tap against her, her hips moving subtly. Then she tore her mouth from his and reached for the hem of her dress, drawing it up and over her head, throwing it behind them.

  He saw her breasts, small but perfectly naked, and her tiny nipped-in waist. She reached between their bodies and undid his belt and then slowly lowered his zipper.

  “I want you naked,” she said.

  “Me too. Are you on the pill?”

  “Of course I am. I don’t like taking chances.”

  “Me either,” he said.

  She shifted off his lap, and he pushed his pants and underwear down his legs. By the time he was naked, so was she. She turned back to him, standing there in front of him completely bare, and he took a moment to appreciate how lovely she was. She wasn’t built like a supermodel but was more of a real woman. Her legs weren’t especially long but seemed just right to him. She had a birthmark on her left side that was shaped like a paint splotch; he couldn’t help himself and caressed it, tracing the shape. She had a belly button ring, which he fondled as he used his other hand to draw her back into his arms.

  She fell against him, and he rolled over so she was under him. She put her hands on his waist and then squeezed as she ran her hands down his sides. He honestly wasn’t sure how much more touching he could handle before he came on her belly, which wasn’t how he wanted this to end, so he took her hands in his and stretched them up above her on the bed.

  He watched her carefully to see if this bothered her, but she just winked at him. “Maybe I’ll let you tie me up later.”

  His hips jerked forward at the thought and he could only nod; words were beyond him at this moment. He held her wrists with one hand and drew his index finger down her body, starting at her forehead. She had a pert nose that he couldn’t help dropping a kiss on as he drew his touch down farther, over her lips and her neck and then around the full globes of each breast. He lowered his mouth to one of her nipples while he teased the other one with his fingers.

  Then he moved lower, tasting her belly button ring with his tongue, and felt her undulate against him as he moved still lower. He fanned his fingers out and cupped her, running his finger around the opening of her body and then bringing it up to tap against her clit again. She shifted against him, her legs going wider as he brought his mouth lower, wanting—needing—to taste her. He had to let go of her hands, but he felt enough in control that he thought that would be okay.

  He was wrong.

  She tasted better than anything he’d ever tasted before. He couldn’t get enough. His tongue flicked over her and then his entire mouth ate at her most intimate flesh until she shoved her hands in his hair and held his head to her body as her hips thrust upward against him.

  She rocked against him again and again and then called out his name as her orgasm rolled through her.

  He lifted his head and looked up her body. Her head was thrown back and her chest was heaving, her nipples tight little buds. Her hips were still rocking slightly, and he knew he’d never forget how she looked right now. He moved up her body, letting his chest brush over her mound and then her stomach and her breasts. He braced his weight with his hands on either side of her shoulders. She opened her eyes, looking up at him with that silvery gaze of hers, but up close her eyes were silvery gray.

  “Well, hello there,” she said.

  �
�Hi.”

  She twined her arms around his shoulders and leaned up to whisper directly into his ear. “Are you going to take me now?”

  His hips moved against her, the tip of his erection finding her opening. He met her eyes and leaned down to kiss her, letting her taste herself on his lips.

  “Yes,” he said against her mouth as he drew back his hips and drove himself deep inside her.

  She was tight when he entered her, and he waited to let her adjust to his size. She wrapped her legs around his waist and lifted her upper body so that her hard nipples brushed against his chest each time he drove into her. He wanted her passion to build to climax again, but now that he was inside her, it was the same as being strapped into the cockpit of his race car—there was no stopping him. The light had flashed green for go, and he had one objective in mind.

  He rode her hard, driving into her again and again, and as he felt the sensation running down his back that meant he was closer and closer to his orgasm, he reached between their bodies, flicking at her clit to help her along. She arched under him, her nails digging into his shoulders.

  “Inigo,” she cried.

  The sound of his name on her lips triggered his orgasm and he started to come, thrusting into her until he was empty and drained. She arched against him repeatedly, and when they were both still, he rolled to his side, lying on his back next to her.

  The air in the room was cool compared to the heat of her body next to his. He already wanted to be back inside her. He turned his head on the bed and found she was looking at him.

  “Was that slow enough for you?” he asked teasingly.

  “Yes, speedy. You were just right,” she said, rolling close to kiss him. “Want to join me in the shower?”

  She trotted toward the bathroom, and he just lay there staring at the ceiling. His mother always said that fate brought people into his path when they were meant to be there. And he was struggling right now not to make this more than a New Year’s Eve hookup.