Pleasure in His Kiss Page 8

  Tingles stabbed his spine. It drove Morrison crazy when Karma pulled him even deeper inside her sex, holding him in place with her hands. It was the pièce de résistance, the bold, erotic move that sent him hurtling back down to earth. Blood rushed to his head. Every nerve ending came to life, and his senses were razor sharp. He didn’t want to stop, wanted to give Karma the best sex of her life, but he rode her hard and fast, welcoming the explosion that rocked his body. She clenched her pelvic muscles, and adrenaline shot through his veins, giving him a mind-blowing rush.

  Arching his back, Morrison could feel himself losing control, falling victim to his needs. He collapsed on the bed, sweating and panting, and needed a moment to catch his breath. His eyes fell across the clock on the end table, and Morrison cringed. He was mad at himself for finishing so fast, but it wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t been intimate with anyone in months, but now that he’d had his appetizer he was ready for the main course. Though, the next time they had sex he’d make sure he used a condom. The one in his wallet wasn’t going to be enough. He’d have to run down to the hotel gift shop and buy a box of Magnums, because now that he’d made love to Karma he wanted to do it again and again and again. Morrison opened his mouth to apologize for not using protection, but her fingertips grazed his nipples and he lost his train of thought.

  “Wow,” Karma rasped in an awe-filled voice. “Happy birthday to me, indeed!”

  “No regrets?”

  “None whatsoever. You?”

  To put her mind at ease, Morrison draped an arm around her shoulder and kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose and finally her mouth. “How can I regret making love to a passionate, amorous woman who gave me the best sex of my life?”

  Grinning, Karma rested her head on his chest and snuggled against him. Sweaty and thirsty, Morrison wanted a shower, and a cold beer from the minibar. Normally, he didn’t indulge in pillow talk or cuddling, could think of a hundred things he’d rather do with his time than bare his soul, but he surprised himself by doing both with Karma. Their conversation was genuine, not forced or awkward, and full of laughs. His interest peaked when their discussion turned to relationships. Karma confided in him about her dreadful dating history, and soon Morrison was opening up to her about his ex-girlfriends. Their playful banter made him feel close to her, and as Karma giggled at his jokes his desire for her grew.

  “What a day. I’m beat.” Yawning, he closed his eyes and stretched his neck from side to side. He’d been up since 5 a.m., but Morrison was so relaxed and content holding Karma in his arms he knew he’d sleep like a baby tonight. “I was going to grab something to eat from the minibar, but maybe I should call room service instead—”

  “I should go.” Karma struggled to sit up. “I’d hate to overstay my welcome.”

  “You’re not going anywhere. We still have a lot of celebrating to do.” Morrison pulled her into his arms. “Are you still mad at your best friend for bailing on you tonight?”

  “Who?” she quipped, making her eyes wide. “I’ve been too busy having fun with you to give her a second thought, and I don’t plan to.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. My thirtieth birthday was a disaster, and—”

  Surprise filled her eyes. “It was? What happened? I want all the scandalous details.”

  “It’s not going to happen. You’ll laugh at me, and my ego’s been bruised enough.”

  “I won’t. I promise.” Karma held up a finger. “Pinkie swear.”

  Morrison chuckled when she hooked his finger with hers and vowed to keep her word. He heard his cell ringing inside the living room, but he was too comfortable to move. Didn’t want to interrupt his conversation with Karma by yapping on the phone. He knew from the jazz song playing that his mother was the one blowing up his cell, but since nothing said mama’s boy like answering a post-sex call from Mom he made a mental note to text her later.

  “What did you do? Did you party with your brothers? Where did you go?”

  Morrison pried his lips apart. “The New York Bridal Expo.”

  Her eyebrows shot up, and she stared at him as if he was speaking pig latin. Morrison knew Karma was trying hard not to laugh, and wore a wry smile. He didn’t blame her. His brothers had teased him mercilessly when they saw the pictures of him on social media, and to this day they still made fun of him for attending the bridal expo.

  “Were you drugged and taken there against your will?”

  Chuckling, he swatted her ass. “Stop teasing me or I’ll take you over my knee.”

  “Another birthday present? Let’s do it!”

  Karma laughed, but before Morrison could make good on his threat, she propped her head up in her hands, and questioned him about the bridal expo, wanted to know how he ended up at the popular event and who he’d attended it with.

  “The marketing executive I was dating at the time shared my birthday, so when she asked me to spend the day with her, and her mother who was visiting from Savannah, I agreed. Big mistake. I’ve never heard so much crying or squealing in my life, and every time I hear the ‘Wedding March’ I have flashbacks of my birthday from hell.”

  “You’re a good man, Morrison. Your parents obviously raised you well.”

  “They did, but I’m not perfect. I mess up and make mistakes, like tonight with you.”

  Confusion marred her features. “What are you talking about?” she said, resting a hand on his cheek. “Our lovemaking was sensational. Incredible. Out of this world...”

  “Everything happened so fast I didn’t have time to grab a condom, and I feel like an ass for being irresponsible.” Wearing an apologetic smile, he read the question in her eyes and put her fears to rest. “But you have nothing to worry about. I’ve never had unprotected sex, or an STD, and I get tested regularly.”

  “So do I, and I’m on birth control, but next time we make love we should definitely use a condom. You can never be too safe. I love kids, but I don’t want to be anyone’s mama...”

  Distracted by the feel of her naked body against his, it was hard for Morrison to concentrate on what Karma was saying, but he raised his gaze from her breasts to her eyes, and stopped fantasizing about making love to her in the marble-and-glass shower.

  “Next time, huh?” Morrison wiggled his eyebrows. “Any guess when that will be?”

  “That depends on how long you need to recharge.”

  “I don’t.” Standing, he searched the carpet for his pants, spotted them in front of the walk-in closet and retrieved his wallet. Morrison found the condom, opened it and covered his erection. “I’m ready when you are,” he announced, rejoining her on the bed.

  Climbing on top of him so her head was facing his feet, Karma sucked his erection into her open mouth, sucking it as if it was a Popsicle and she was starving. She cupped his shaft with her breasts, vigorously slid them up and down, panting and moaning. His eyes rolled in the back of his head. He wanted her to stop, knew he’d lose it again if she continued flicking her tongue against his shaft, but Morrison had no words. Couldn’t get his lips to move.

  Pleasure flooded his body, filling him to the brim, but he surfaced from his sexual haze and trailed his tongue along her tailbone. He kissed it, licked it, pressed his mouth against the fleshy lips between her thighs.

  Crying out, she squirmed and rocked against him. Mounting him, she kissed him passionately on the lips, then pumped her hips like a horse jockey riding a Thoroughbred. “Sí, cariño, dame más,” she shouted, tossing her head back.

  Morrison cupped her breasts, reverently kissed and sucked each nipple, nipped at it with his teeth. His chest inflated with pride, and his erection grew inside her, doubled in length. He’d never been with a woman who was so vocal, or amorous in the bedroom, and when she started talking dirty in Spanish, his mouth became wet. Karma was his newest obsession, a living fantasy, and Morrison wasn’t letting the sultry stylist out of
his sight for the rest of the weekend.

  Chapter 8

  Sunshine, powder blue skies and the warm breeze blowing through Manhattan made Karma feel relaxed and content, and when Morrison clasped her hand and led her through the front doors of the Four Seasons Hotel on Sunday afternoon her heart soared to the heavens.

  Erotic images overwhelmed Karma’s mind, and a smile curled her lips. Last night, after a quickie in the shower, they’d raided the minibar and collapsed onto the couch to eat. For hours, they’d talked and laughed and kissed. By the time Morrison went down to the front desk to get Karma’s new key card and escorted her back to her suite the sun was climbing over the horizon.

  Six hours later, Karma was still walking on air. That morning, they’d gone to the hotel restaurant for their legendary buffet brunch, and bumped into several guests from the Tolbert-Lefevre wedding. Joining the large, energetic group, they’d chatted about the highlights of the reception and their plans for the day. Morrison had let it slip that it was Karma’s thirtieth birthday, then led the group in singing her “Happy Birthday.” Draping an arm around her chair, he’d held her close as he fed her fruit-topped cheesecake. Wanting to look great but comfortable as they spent the day strolling around the city, Karma had paired her pink minidress with a floral bomber jacket, bejeweled sandals and silver accessories. She’d worn her braids down, and from the time they left the restaurant Morrison had been showering her with compliments.

  The suit-clad driver, with eyeglasses and Albert Einstein hair, was standing in front of the limousine parked at the curb and bowed at the waist. “Happy birthday, Ms. Sullivan.”

  Surprised, Karma closed her gaping mouth and glanced at Morrison. “What’s this?”

  “Your wheels for the day. You deserve to be spoiled, so get in.”

  “But we agreed to walk to the museum—”

  Morrison dropped his mouth to her ear and brushed his lips against it. “That was before you had your way with me in the shower,” he whispered, in a silky-smooth voice. “After round three, my legs felt like rubber, so I called the best luxury car rental company in the city first thing this morning and booked a limousine for the day.”

  Karma gave him a peck on the lips. “I’ve always dreamed of making love in a limo.”

  “And today, I’m going to make sure all of your dreams come true.”

  The driver took her overnight bag, then opened the back door and stepped aside. Smiling her thanks, she inhaled the piquant aromas in the air. Inside the limousine were thirty helium balloons, a bouquet of colored roses, an oversize gift bag and a diamond tiara. Taking the seat beside her, Morrison placed the tiara on her head, then pressed his lips to her mouth.

  “Now you’re ready to party,” he teased.

  “Thanks for everything, Morrison. I’m having an incredible birthday.”

  “And it’s about to get even better. Open your present.”

  “You didn’t have to buy me anything. You’ve already done enough.”

  “My motto is go big or go home, and I knocked it out of the park.”

  “I love your humility,” Karma joked, making a silly face. “It’s so endearing.”

  The limousine pulled away from the curb and cruised through Midtown, passing trendy shops, restaurants and art galleries. Joggers, dog lovers and tourists crowded the sidewalks, and a steady stream of shoppers flowed in and out of upscale boutiques. Her hometown was full of delicious food, eccentric people, breathtaking sights and endless things to see and do, and as she gazed at the stately buildings and skyscrapers Karma smiled to herself. Was grateful to be in the greatest city in the world, living life on her terms.

  “Come on,” he drawled, leaning forward in his seat. “The suspense is killing me.”

  Karma reached into the bag, took out the pink envelope and ripped it open. The card played music, a popular song from the ’90s by Janet Jackson, and she laughed out loud as she read the handwritten note Morrison had scrawled inside.

  Happy Birthday to the sexiest woman in New York. I’d go anywhere with you, even a bridal show, but please don’t make me!

  From your birthday bae,

  Morrison Drake

  “Like it?” he asked, his eyes bright with mischief. “I think it’s some of my best work.”

  “You’re no Langston Hughes, so don’t quit your day job!”

  Hanging his head, he sniffed and pretended to wipe a tear away from his eyes.

  Karma giggled. She couldn’t believe this was the same guy who’d barged into her shop a week ago and caused a scene. At brunch, one of the guests had asked how long they’d been dating, and before Karma could answer, Morrison had surprised her with a kiss. Then he’d told the group about meeting her at her salon, and apologized again for his behavior.

  Karma tossed aside the white tissue paper, and gasped, glancing from the gift bag to Morrison, and back again. Inside was an alligator-skin Hermès wallet, the most coveted accessory of the season. She’d been saving up for months to buy one and wondered if Reagan had told her uncle about Karma’s obsession with designer purses. She wanted to cheer, but since she wasn’t going to keep the shiny, orange wallet, she tempered her excitement. “When did you get this? Who told you I’ve been saving up to buy one?”

  “A man of mystery never shares his secrets. Do you like it?”

  “Yes, of course, but it’s too expensive. It costs thousands of dollars, and—”

  “Karma, it’s a birthday gift. No strings attached,” he said, interrupting her.

  Staring longingly at the wallet, she drew her fingertips across the shiny, silver buckle. Morrison came from money, but Karma still felt uncomfortable accepting the ridiculously expensive birthday gift. Days earlier at the salon, she’d overheard two divorcées discussing the Drake family and listened closely. Morrison had two younger brothers, and after the death of his sister, Emmanuelle, he’d become Reagan’s legal guardian. The Drake family had been on the Hamptons power list for decades, and although Morrison’s father, Nathaniel, had been an esteemed Supreme Court judge, it was his mother, Viola, who’d put the family on the map. The talented interior designer, who her well-heeled clients affectionately nicknamed L’élu, which meant “The Chosen One” in French, had retired a multimillionaire. Morrison was filthy rich, but Karma couldn’t accept the gift. She didn’t want him to think she was swayed by money. She wasn’t. She had as much fun at the bowling alley as she did at A-list parties, and it didn’t matter how long Karma lived in the Hamptons, she’d never forget her humble roots.

  “I can’t accept it,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s too much. It wouldn’t be right.”

  “Okay, I understand. Let’s not argue about it. I hate going to the mall to return things, so I’ll just give it to Reagan. Problem solved.”

  Morrison reached for the gift bag, and Karma slapped his hand away.

  “You can’t give this beautiful wallet to Reagan. She won’t take good care of it.”

  “I know. She’ll probably lose it, or accidently spill her latte on it—”

  “I changed my mind. I’ll keep it. Thanks, Morrison. I love it,” she confessed, a smile overwhelming her mouth. “You shouldn’t have, but am I ever glad you did!”

  Chuckling, he took the champagne bottle out of the ice bucket. Morrison opened it, filled two glasses and handed her one. “A toast to the birthday girl,” he said, raising his flute in the air. “May this be the best year of your life, and may all your hopes and dreams come true.”

  They clinked glasses, then tasted their drinks.

  “Morrison, I can’t believe you went to all this trouble for me.”

  “It’s no trouble at all. It’s your thirtieth birthday. You have to celebrate big.”

  “Where are we going?” Karma wanted to grab her cell phone from her purse, so she could blog about her new designer wallet, but since she didn’t wa
nt Morrison to think she was rude, Karma kept her hands on her lap and off her clutch purse.

  “We don’t have to be at the theater until seven o’clock,” he said, glancing at his wristwatch. “We have several hours to explore the city, so I figured we’d check out the botanical garden.”

  “I love the botanical garden, and was planning to go there next week to see their latest exhibits. Hey, have you been snooping through my social media pages?”

  “Me? Snoop?” He affected a French accent. “I’m a judge, mon chérie, not a spy.”

  Fond memories filled her mind. “When I was a kid, my mom used to take me to the botanical garden almost every Sunday. We’d walk the grounds, have a picnic and chocolate ice cream. I always enjoyed spending the day there, but it’s been years since I visited.”

  “Me too. I used to take Reagan all the time, but now she’s too cool to be seen with me in public. Go figure. Just because I’m a judge doesn’t mean I’m old and uptight.”

  “Damn right you’re not,” Karma said. “You’re a youthful, charismatic man, with impeccable style, who can have any woman you want.”

  “Is that right? Does that mean I can have you? Right here, right now?”

  His eyes bore into her, but she could tell by the amused expression on his face that he was joking. Karma wasn’t. Accepting his challenge, she kicked off her sandals and climbed onto his lap. Thankful the privacy barrier was raised, and the driver couldn’t see them, Karma draped her arms around his neck and rocked her hips slowly back and forth. His erection came to life, poking her inner thigh, giving her a rush.

  “Karma, what are you doing?” Morrison asked, wetting his lips with his tongue.

  “Showing my appreciation for my incredible birthday gift.”

  “But we’re only a few minutes away from the botanical garden.”

  A smirk curled her lips. “Then, you better cum quickly.”