Free Triple Threat by Regina Kyle

toward the valley between her breasts. “The cabbie.”
    “Don’t worry, sweetheart. It’s New York. He’s seen it all.” His free hand moved to the inside of her thigh and pushed her legs apart. “Besides, he’s not paying any attention to us.”
    “I... Oh.” A moan escaped her parted lips when his wayward hand journeyed higher to stroke her through her sopping-wet jeans.
    “Shh,” he warned, bringing his mouth to hers. “You don’t want him to hear you, do you?”
    “No, but...” He ground the heel of his hand against her and she moaned louder.
    “You leave me no choice,” he murmured against her lips. “Got to keep you quiet somehow.”
    He planted his mouth on hers, instantly hot and demanding. She arched her back and ran a hand up his chest, clutching the fabric of his T-shirt as if it were an anchor that could stop her from drifting away on a wave of sheer sensuality.
    They stayed locked together until he raised his head, making her whimper in protest. “It’s okay, babe. We’re here.”
    The cab slowed to a stop and Holly looked up to see the famous facade of the Plaza.
    “That’ll be twenty bucks, Mr. Damone.” The cabbie turned and gave a little cough. “And, uh, can I have your autograph? For my wife. She’s a big fan.”
    “Sure.” Nick scrawled his signature on a napkin the cabbie gave him, handing it back along with the fare and what looked to be a sizable tip. Then he grabbed Holly’s messenger bag and helped her out. She hummed with happy anticipation, her stomach quivering with sudden nerves as they crossed the palatial lobby. She barely registered the smiling doorman, the gold-leaf ceiling, the marble floor, on their way to the elevator.
    “Come here.” Nick reached for her again the second the doors slid shut. She went willingly into his arms, tilting her chin up and offering her lips. He accepted, lifting her up and devouring her mouth in a hot, hungry kiss.
    Ding.
    “Saved by the bell.” The elevator jerked to a stop and Nick relaxed his hold, letting her slide down his body. She felt every ridge and curve of him, making her already pounding heart race even faster. With one arm wrapped possessively around her waist, he led her out of the elevator and down the hall to his door. He fumbled with the key and she smiled, relieved she wasn’t the only one on edge. Finally, the door swung open and he ushered her inside, tossing off his jacket and flipping on lights as they went.
    The place was like something out of a fairy tale, with plush carpeting, a marble fireplace and intricately carved furniture, all done in discreet, muted tones. Framed photographs of sunrises and sunsets added splashes of color. Through an open doorway she could see half of what appeared to be an enormous bed, topped by an elaborate headboard and covered by a brilliantly white duvet and matching pillows.
    “Ice cream’s in the butler’s pantry.” Nick came up behind her, one hand caressing her backside and his mouth on her neck. His lips were warm and wet against her skin. With his other hand he reached around to cup her breast. “If you’re still hungry.”
    “I’m hungry,” she said, leaning back into him. She could feel his erection, hot and hard, nestled in the space between her buttocks. “But not for Ben. Or Jerry.”
    In one fluid movement, he turned her in his arms and picked her up, cradling her to his chest. With long, purposeful strides, he carried her to the bedroom. If she thought she was in a fantasy before, now she was convinced. It was every sex dream she’d ever sweated through and twisted awake from with disappointment. Except she wasn’t dreaming now, and she wasn’t disappointed.
    He paused just inside the door and groped for the light switch. Holly grabbed his wrist, stopping him. “No, please,” she whispered. In the dark he wouldn’t see the scars left by Clark’s belt. She could tell herself all she wanted they were just something she’d gone through, scars from