Body Talk Read online

  “What?” she asked.

  “This.” He slid his hand under the weight of her hair to cup her nape. His head came down, and she had to tilt her head back, not a little, but a lot. He slanted his mouth over hers and pulled her against his body. She’d admired his height but hadn’t considered what it would mean to hug a man taller than her. How petite his size would make her feel. How…protected. What kind of bullshit was that? The idea knocked her off-kilter, and she clutched at his shoulders for balance. Firm, thick muscles tempted her fingers to knead.

  Her breasts, nipples beaded, pressed against his chest. Warm, masculine scent filled her nostrils. On a moan, she parted her lips.

  Raspy stubble grazed her jaw. His breath warmed her already-heated face. His smile was crooked, but there was nothing lopsided in how his mouth moved over hers. He kissed like a man on a mission. Deliberate. Thorough. When he released her, her breath came in little pants. If a single kiss could have that effect… This is crazy. Call it off while you still can.

  “Why did you do that?” She resisted the urge to touch her throbbing lips. Boy, that man could kiss. But he hadn’t asked. He’d just done it.

  “It’s why we’re here, right?”

  He attracted her, but for all the wrong reasons—and all the right ones. For a one-night hookup? He was hard-bodied, grinning perfection. As a long-term lover, he wouldn’t do at all. She assumed control—in her professional and personal life. She didn’t jump to do any man’s bidding—they answered to her. She set the pace and the standard. If they couldn’t accept her terms, well, plenty of others did. Some of them, anyway. The point was, she didn’t get attached. Didn’t build castles in the sky. Didn’t have to worry whether she would measure up. A decorated commander in the Terran Armed Forces, she’d never failed at anything, despite what her father believed. The men she allowed into her life needed to worry if they met her standards.

  The man whose kiss packed a punch started the transporter with a swipe across the screen. Registration coded to a guest’s DNA eliminated the need to key in a number. The lift whooshed to the seventh floor, two levels above her room. After exiting, he led the way down one of the long glass branches. From this height, she couldn’t see details on the garden lawn, but body positions revealed couples, threesomes, and foursomes engaged in intercourse. The hotel was positioned at the garden’s edge like an observation deck.

  “After you.”

  Amanda blinked. He stood in front of his open hotel room, beckoning her to enter. She’d been so focused on the people below, she hadn’t realized they’d arrived at the destination.

  Centered in the circular room, a massive cushioned platform covered in some iridescent material sparkled under a spotlight. “Darius 4 favors things that glow,” she commented.

  Sonny chuckled. “Yeah, they do. I’m more into simplicity.” He drew a finger along her jawline. “But you look very pretty in the glow.”

  A line, of course. Her heart hitched with a longing she thought she’d stamped out. “You don’t need to say that.” She whirled away to pretend an interest in the room, a mirror image of her own right down to the mirror on the ceiling. She gulped. They could star in and watch their own porn show while they fucked.

  “Compliments make you uncomfortable.” A statement. Not a question. Could he read her that easily?

  “No,” she lied. He didn’t need to flatter her to get her into bed. She was already there. She eyed the humungous glowing round platform. Well, almost there.

  Sweet nothings meant exactly that. Nothing.

  You can do better. How many times had she heard that phrase? Nothing she had ever done had been good enough to please her father. Graduation with greatest honor? Should have been highest honor. Achieved rank in record time? Could have been a rung or two higher if she’d applied herself. And to prove her mediocrity—she’d “washed out” of the Terran Armed Forces.

  Everyone else had called it being wounded in action, almost fatally. They don’t give medals for washing out, Dad. She’d tried and tried to please her father, until she’d had to admit defeat. Seeking his approval was the only thing she’d ever given up on.

  “So it won’t bother you at all if I tell you you’re hot?” He called her bluff, stalking toward her with intent, causing her heart to go wild in her chest. “Fucking sexy?”

  The intensity of his gaze could almost fool her into believing he meant it. The controlled resort temperature didn’t seem so optimal anymore. Caught between desire and embarrassment, she was burning up. Didn’t mean she couldn’t fake aplomb. With a shake of her head, she flipped her hair. “Doesn’t bother me at all.”

  “Liar.”

  Did he just call her a liar? She gaped. “You-you—” She sputtered in outrage.

  He yanked her against him and mashed his mouth to hers in a fierce, blistering kiss. His erection, as rigid as a titanium rod, throbbed against her abdomen. She’d pretended poise; he, apparently, had faked control.

  This man wanted her. His naked, honest need for her burned away her anger at his audacity and ignited a tinder of suppressed longing. Lust exploded, hotter than hot. She grabbed him, raked at his shoulders, lashed at the inside of his mouth. She nipped his lips, biting enough to break the skin. He kissed her back, hard, but without drawing blood. Clothing tore. Hers or his, she’d didn’t care.

  Bare male chest, rough with hair, scraped against her nipples drawn so tight they hurt. Large male hands squeezed her ass.

  Her head fell back as he latched onto her neck. His scruffy chin rasped. Her pussy contracted hungrily, her clit pulsing. Burning, throbbing, yearning overpowered regret and reason. “I-I’m on uh birth control,” she gasped before rationality evaporated for good. Besides switching off ovulation, her system would isolate and eliminate any sexually transmitted contagions she encountered. “I’m clean.”

  “Me, too. On both counts.” He took her mouth again.

  An intricate design swirled around his upper right arm. Something worth examining—later. She dug her fingers into his biceps. She was toned; he was amazing. Ripped beyond belief. Shoulders broader than broad, a chest like steel dusted with wiry hair that rasped oh so good when she rubbed against it.

  She grabbed his shaft, and his cock leapt in her palm as she stroked from the smooth, fluid-slick crown to the base nested in springy curls.

  Sonny kneaded her breasts, pinching the tips into achier points. He released one to snake a hand between her legs. “You’re so wet,” he growled. His gravelly voice and the finger he plunged into her caused another surge of moisture to spill out. With his thumb, he circled her clit.

  “I can’t wait. Next time will be slower, I promise,” he said.

  “Next time?” she gasped, but he’d already lifted her and pressed her against the wall and thrust into her. Wet and needy as she was, the initial painful stretch still came as a shock. She tensed.

  “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

  “Fuck, I’m not.” She thumped his ass with her heels. “Don’t stop now.”

  He groaned as he slid all the way in. Filled her in a way more than physical, in a way she couldn’t afford. She only had tonight. There was no tomorrow to borrow. He paused, his cock pulsing, steamy breath heating her neck. “Okay?”

  Don’t stop! She craved the pounding of his body inside hers. Needed it hard and fast, otherwise she might stop to question what she was doing and why. She pummeled his ass with her heels. “More.”

  He snorted. “You got the impression you’re riding a horse or something?” But he began to move. Powerful thrusts signed with a swivel that caught her clit in the right way to drive her insane. The man could fuck.

  With each shove, she slid against the smooth curved, glass wall. Dimly, she wondered if she would leave sweaty ass prints, wondered if the window was still opaque if a person pressed against it. Were people on the ground watching the show playing seven floors up? Who the hell cared? What happened on Darius 4…

  Tension surged into the red zone. Ner
ves fired. Muscles contracted. Close. So close. “Don’t stop.” She clutched at his shoulders.

  “Couldn’t if I wanted to.” His face tightened with a fierce grimace.

  She was being fucked by a stranger who looked like an assassin. Maybe performing for an audience of hundreds. A farewell performance. Control snapped. She exploded in orgasm, riding waves of rippling pleasure. Her pussy contracted around his thick, pistoning cock. He bellowed, and moments later streams of cum hit the neck of her womb, touching off a second orgasm.

  She clung to him, her body wracked by ecstasy. As the intensity of the bliss faded away, he continued to hold her, to thrust in a slow slide as if savoring the aftermath. His cock was still inside her, and her pussy seemed equally reluctant to release him. The post-coital glow seemed more intimate than the fucking somehow. More dangerous.

  No entanglements. No disappointments. She wiggled to signal he should release her.

  “In a minute,” he said.

  She patted his shoulders. Deep red crescents dented his skin where she’d dug into him with her fingernails. His back bore an angry gash. She’d raked him without awareness of having done so. She didn’t scratch and claw. What had gotten into her? “Sorry about that.”

  “About what?”

  She rubbed the marks she’d left. “I, um, scratched you.” Gouged him.

  “It’ll heal. Don’t worry about it.” He shrugged, and his cock slipped out of her.

  He still had her trapped between him and the wall. Perspiration coated their bodies. She was stuck to him. “You can put me down now,” she said.

  “Okay.” With an arm across her back and his large hand gripping her ass cheek, he carried her to the bed, sank onto it, and pulled her into the crook of his body. Hairy male limbs wound around her legs. Oh, great. A cuddler. Why did men never do what you needed them to? The ones you wished would hold you, fell asleep. The quick fucks you needed to escape from turned into octopuses.

  She’d lie here for a while to satisfy whatever social propriety existed with a one-night stand then untangle herself with an appropriate excuse. He already knew she had a meeting with her “business partner.” With a sigh, she relaxed against his hard body. If she had to cozy up to a man, this one wasn’t as bad as most. She pressed her face to the damp hollow of his throat and inhaled his scent. He smelled good. Too good. Her womb fluttered, and she eyed his cock, an impressive bad boy even in its relaxed state. But, erect? Holy shit.

  She tore her gaze away from his penis and peeked at the ceiling. Like one of those old, old carnival oddities, the mirror overhead reflected a distorted version of the truth. Entwined, they resembled lovers instead of first-name-only strangers. Had he told her the truth at all? Maybe he’d never abandoned his criminal activities. Or maybe that was the lie? Perhaps Mr. Straight Arrow fantasized about acting like a tough guy.

  She eyed his reflection. No. When it came to toughness, this dude was the real deal.

  Her story had been false, but that was beside the point.

  His arm tightened around her shoulders. “No regrets.” His voice rumbled against her ear.

  She hated the way he could seem to read her. “Why do you say that?”

  “You’re scowling.” He jutted his chin at the mirror.

  Crap. She was better at hiding her feelings than that. “No regrets.” She hesitated. “Just questions.”

  He untangled and stretched his legs. She could get away now if she chose. “Like what?” he asked, and stretched his arms over his head. The design on his upper right biceps appeared permanent. Centuries ago, tattoos had been all the rage. In the early twenty-first century, you’d have been hard-pressed to find anyone under forty years of age who didn’t have one.

  This century? A rarity.

  He intercepted her gaze. “The gang I belonged to got tats to signify our allegiance to the brotherhood.”

  “They’re easy enough to remove.”

  “I keep it as a reminder of what I used to be.”

  “Are you married?” Where the fuck had that come from? She didn’t care about his personal life. She didn’t need to know anything about him, although personal code forbade poaching on another woman’s territory.

  “No.” He chuckled, a rich warm sound causing her stupid pussy to clench. “But, if that mattered to you, shouldn’t that question have preceded ‘your place or mine’?”

  Asshole. Fuck him for pointing that out.

  “How about you? Are you married or partnered?” he asked.

  “Shouldn’t you have asked before you shoved me up against the wall?” She used his words against him.

  “Come now, you can do better than that.”

  Humiliation flooded her in an acid wash. You can do better than that. Familiar words scored a bull’s-eye in a circle of old hurts. She sprang out of bed and lunged for her clothes. “Yes, I can do better.” Than you.

  He sat up. “What the hell? What did I say?”

  Nothing. The comment had been innocent. Teasing. He hadn’t meant anything by it. She was overreacting. Awareness could not halt reaction. She grabbed her clothing—discovered it had been her tunic that had torn—and yanked it on then pulled on her trousers.

  He stared like he couldn’t believe his eyes. No doubt by morning, he’d thank the stars in the Virgo Supercluster for his escape from the crazy broad.

  How’s that for ruining the moment? Yes, she could have done better. Now she needed to escape his incredulous scrutiny and be grateful she’d never have to face him again.

  She rushed for the door.

  “Wait, Amanda.”

  “I’m sorry,” she muttered and fled. They shared something in common: he, too, could do better. He could find himself a woman without issues.

  * * * *

  Trapped with the Cyborg Description

  The only thing more dangerous than a suicide mission is falling in love…

  Amanda Mansfield has faced challenges in her life: the disapproval of her critical father and the near-fatal accident that ended a promising military career and resulted in her transformation to cyborg. Now a Cyber Operations field agent, she volunteers to lead the most dangerous Cy-Ops mission ever: infiltrating enemy territory to find the secret hideaway of a terrorist mastermind. The last thing she needs is an added complication.

  Like him. Sonny Masters. Her partner. A streetwise former thug turned cyber operative with a lethal grin. He can’t seem to understand she’s in charge and does not require his protection. He’s everything she dislikes—and everything her body wants.

  If they can keep their hands off each other long enough to complete the mission, they might just get out alive…

  Praise from Amazon Readers

  IRRESTIBLE ATTRACTIONS (Rod and Cane Society 6)

  “Hottest Rod and Cane yet!”

  “ABSOLUTELY loved this book”

  “Fell in love from the beginning”

  BODY POLITICS (Rod and Cane Society 3)

  “A sexy page turner”

  “Another winner”

  “Hot pick and a must read”

  GODDESS’S CURSE

  “Full of Awesome”

  “A fascinating story”

  DESTINY’S CHANCE

  “Unusual, kinky and romance. I couldn’t imagine a better combination”

  “Sexy, passionate, and well-developed spicy paranormal romance”

  EDUCATING HIS BRIDE

  “This story has it all”

  “Kinky and excellent fun”

  STOLEN MOMENTS

  “Feel good spanking romance”

  “Stolen Moments will steal your heart”

  RAHM’S WAY/DOMESTIC DISCIPLINE

  “Woweeeee”

  “Loving with a delicious red-hot sting”

  STRANDED WITH THE CYBORG (Cy-Ops Sci-fi Romance 1)

  “What a thrilling ride”

  “A great start to a new series”

  “Cara Bristol does not disappoint. This is sexy”

 
; “I couldn’t put it down”

  MATED WITH THE CYBORG (Cy-Ops Sci-fi Romance 2)

  “I love them. I’m not even a big sci-fi fan”

  “These cyborgs just keep getting sexier”

  “Fabulous Sci-fi”

  CAPTURED BY THE CYBORG (Cy-Ops Sci-fi Romance 3)

  “Perfect Sci-fi Romance”

  “An unbelievably satisfying HEA”

  “Bristol’s creativity shines”

  “Another great book in this series”

  “Sexy & Exhilarating Sci-fi Romp”

  TRAPPED WITH THE CYBORG Cy-Ops Sci-fi Romance 4)

  “The amazing writing continues”

  “Action-packed love story”

  “I wouldn’t mind being trapped with this cyborg”

  “Scorching and sassy romance”

  Titles by Cara Bristol

  Stranded with the Cyborg

  Mated with the Cyborg

  Captured by the Cyborg

  Trapped with the Cyborg

  Married to the Cyborg

  Breeder*

  Terran

  Warrior

  Reckless in Moonlight*

  Destiny’s Chance

  Goddess’s Curse

  Longing

  Long Shot

  Intimate Submission*

  Secret Desires*

  Educating His Bride

  Stolen Moments

  Domestic Discipline

  Unexpected Consequences

  False Pretenses

  Body Politics

  Disciplinary Measures

  Reasonable Doubts

  Irresistible Attractions

  Naughty Words for Nice Writers

  Anthologies

  Pets in Space

  Portals

  Body Talk

  Spanked!*

  Correcting the Coeds*

  Bound, Spanked & Loved*

  Coming to Terms*

  Milestones*

  Audiobooks

  Stranded with the Cyborg

  Matted with the Cyborg