First Strike by Pamela Clare Page B

music to him. God, it felt good, being inside her like this, her sweet pussy gripping him, her amazing body his to savor. He wanted to stay just like this all night—hard, inside her, on the edge.
    He looked down at her sweet face, and something strange happened.
    He stopped moving and found himself reaching with one hand to cradle her cheek, sexual need melting into tenderness. He pressed his forehead to hers, their gazes locking. “ Laura. ”
    Her hands slid up his chest to caress his jaw. “Kiss me.”
    He did, moving inside her again, sliding in and out of her with slow strokes, aware of every breath she took, every sound she made, every emotion that stirred behind her blue eyes. “ Bella. ”
    And when they came, their breathy sighs mingling in a long, desperate kiss, Javier realized he’d never felt this connected to any other woman.
     
     
    It was the sound of a closing door that woke him.
    Javier opened his eyes, looked down to see Laura curled up against his chest. He stroked her hair and closed his eyes—then sat upright with a jolt. “¡ Puñeta !”
    Had he missed his flight?
    “Fuck!” He glanced at the clock on her nightstand, saw that it was almost seven.
    Laura sat up, the sheet falling away from her bare breasts, her hair tousled. “What’s wrong?”
    “I overslept.” He hadn’t meant to sleep at all, at least not in Laura’s room. “I needed to be at the airport a half hour ago, and I still have to pack.”
    It wasn’t like him to be forgetful or late.
    He jumped out of bed and went in search of his clothes.
    She was on her feet, hurrying through the suite, handing him his jeans, a sock, his boxer briefs. “A cab will get you there in about ten minutes. If you hurry, you can make it before seven-thirty. What time does your flight leave?”
    “Eight-thirty.” He dressed quickly.
    “As long as you’re there at least an hour early, you should be able to make your flight. After seven-thirty, they won’t let you board.”
    He finished buttoning his shirt, glancing around to see if he’d left anything else, anything that might get her into trouble.
    And then it hit him.
    This was goodbye.
    He reached for her, drew her naked body into his arms, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I had a great time, bella . You’re an incredible woman.”
    The words sounded meaningless, far too casual for what he was feeling. He wanted to ask for her phone number and email, wanted to give her his, wanted to tell her that he’d love to see her again, that if she ever needed him, he would be there for her. But he had agreed that their weekend would be a weekend—nothing more.
    Now the weekend was over.
    No strings.
    Why in the hell did you agree to that, cabrón ?
    She stood on tiptoe, kissed him, the sweet scent of sex still on her skin. “Thank you, Javi. You’re the best time ever. Now go.”
    He looked down at her, some part of him rooted to the spot, wanting to make this moment different, but not knowing how to do that. “Stay safe.”
    She smiled. “You too—whatever it is you do.”
    He handed her the extra key card, then turned and walked out of her life like he’d promised her he would.
    But by the time he reached the elevators, he’d made another promise—this one to himself. One day, he would track her down.
    And next time, he wouldn’t let her go so easily.
     
     
    Laura sat on the edge of the bed, clutching her bathrobe around her and staring at the closed door, feeling strangely naked and alone. She’d known she would have to say goodbye to Javier today, she just hadn’t expected it to be so abrupt. Nor had she expected it to leave her feeling so … desolate .
    She reached over, ran her hand over the sheets, the bed still warm from his body heat, his scent still on her skin. “Goodbye, Javi.”
    It was the pricking of tears in her eyes that got her to her feet.
    “What’s the matter with you, Nilsson?”
    She wasn’t usually this sentimental. Then again, she didn’t usually