Recipe For Seduction (A Madewood Brothers Novel) (Entangled Brazen) (9 page)

She placed her hand on his and stopped his motions. He dropped the towel, his hand immediately reaching for her cheek. She let her head fall into his palm and savored the warm feel of his skin. But there were so many other places she’d like his hand—both of his hands. And right now, they all ached for his touch.

She was no shrinking violet. She knew where she needed him and how she needed him. And she wasn’t going to waste one more minute on shy, conservative Veronica. She would channel June Beaver and take the reins.
Finally!
Satisfying her lifelong crush with some good hot sex with the object of her schoolgirl adoration was exactly what she needed. She’d spent too many years lusting after a man she’d thought she could never have. But tonight, she would make him beg to get into her pants. A small—and hopefully short-lived—victory, but she’d take it.

“Finn…you and I, we both need to break free of our ruts,” she murmured.

He tipped his head. “And you expect to find whatever we’re looking for in bed?”

She nodded. It was a start, anyway. “Yes, I do.” She stepped forward, backing him into the counter. “Did you feel like a mediator when I was grinding on your lap in the alley?”

The seriousness that had darkened his gaze instantly vanished, replaced by a glitter of desire. “Hell, no.”

“Stepping across the line felt good, didn’t it?”

Just as she had felt while she’d been up onstage before that. Something deep inside her had taken over. Something powerful and sexy. Something
not
plain, boring Veronica. Which was exactly what she’d needed.

“Break the rules with me, Finn,” she urged.

He needed the same thing. He needed to feel powerful, too. To have control over something in his life that wasn’t tied to his brothers. Or even the kids he mentored.

And yeah, she knew exactly where he would find that power and control.

“Let me make this real easy for
you
,” she whispered.

“Yeah?” His eyes turned darker still as he listened intently, hanging on her every word.

She swept away a strand of his hair from his forehead. “Being with me is the one place you don’t have to worry about anyone else’s feelings. I give you complete control. In my bed. You can take what you want. You can do what you want, whenever you want.”

His knuckles burned white at the strength of his grip on the edge of the counter. She had definitely sparked his interest. Although, she was pretty certain she’d had it all along. But she had just sunk a three-pointer. The ball was now in his court.

He gulped down a breath. “Handing over control is an excellent seduction tactic.”

“
Hmm
. You have fantasies?” She leaned in closer, grazing her lips over his jawbone. “Well, I have fantasies, too.”

He twitched, and a clatter sounded behind him. His elbow had knocked over a cup and some utensils but he seemed unfazed by the racket. He reached back and his hand wrapped around a silicone spatula. Finally, he met her gaze. His eyes were now a deep navy.

Suddenly she tensed. This unfamiliar expression was unnerving. It nearly knocked her off her game.

So she called upon June Beaver. But from deep inside, a little voice chided her. She was still Veronica—boring, conservative, motherly Veronica. And what was sexy about
that
picture?

“Suddenly, I’m not hungry”—he held up the spatula and smiled, maintaining eye contact—“for food.” His voice was rough and hinted at exciting things to come.

“What—” She had to clear her throat. “What are you hungry for?”

He leaned forward and grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger. His mouth drew closer, his breath caressing her chin. “You.”

…

Finn swallowed hard, then lowered his head, capturing Veronica’s lips in a kiss. Sweet, salty, innocent, and feral, all wrapped into the press of his mouth to hers.

With one glance at a spatula, his vivid imagination had managed to start something he couldn’t take back. Didn’t want to take back, ever.

Her hands traveled up his chest and connected behind his neck. He caressed her rib cage, then moved his arms around her back. Lower and lower he caressed her, until he kneaded the tight flesh she had squeezed into a black skirt.

His touch elicited a moan. A sexy, needy, pulse-pounding moan he’d longed to hear since his feelings tipped over the line of friendship and set up camp in Inappropriateville. How this woman turned his insides out.

She had put forth an enticing proposition. One he intended to accept, but he needed to make sure she meant every word. They were sinking into dangerous territory, and he cared for her too much to risk their friendship on misunderstandings. He pulled away and whispered, “Whatever I want? Whenever?”

She nodded, a breathless, “Yes,” whispering out of her mouth.

His smile turned wicked. “Not just in bed? But anywhere I say?”

She scrunched up her eyes and glanced around. “You mean…here? What fantasy could I possibly fulfill in the kitchen? I think I just proved I’m a terrible cook.”

“Who said anything about cooking?” He traced the edge of the spatula down her throat with a sly grin. “I’ve got the hardware. Do you have an apron?”

Her eyes widened as she focused on the utensil, but she nodded.

“Then, that’s all we need. For round one.”

“Yeah?” she squeaked.

He lifted a hand and caressed her cheek. She shuddered under his light touch, and he knew this was going to be a long and very satisfying night.

Sliding his finger down the side of her face to her chin, he tilted her head up so their eyes met. “Don’t chicken out on me now, little one.”

She swallowed hard and his cock twitched in his jeans. Even her throat muscles’ contracting was sexy.

He knew he might have to take the reins firmly in hand at some point. But he didn’t think she would hand them over completely. Without even knowing it, she had set the stage for one of his most vivid fantasies. And it was about damn time it came true.

“Do you want to fulfill one of my favorite fantasies?”

She nodded.

“Good. You’re going to do everything I say. Starting with taking off all your clothes.”

Her breath caught.

“And when you’re totally naked, put on the apron and bend over the counter.”

He’d only dreamed of this a thousand times. And every time it was Veronica bent over the kitchen table, her ass swaying back and forth, teasing him, begging for him to spank that delicious bottom. And only when her skin was red and throbbing with need, her desire glistening between her legs, would he position himself behind her. He smiled. “On second thought, keep the boots on. You’re going to need the height.”

He stepped away and let her do her thing while he removed his button-down shirt and let it fall to the floor. She undid the top button of her blouse, then the next, until the silky fabric gaped open, revealing her black bra. With every button his desire grew more intense, his breath more labored, than with the button before.

Next, she released the belt that wrapped around her waist and pulled it thorough the loops of the black skirt. The thick silence of the moment only fueled the sexual tension between them. And when her hands disappeared behind her back, the sound of the zipper’s descent played like a soundtrack to their sexy times.

She turned slowly, pivoting on her right toe. Her skirt gaped open at the back to reveal a thong that matched her bra. She pulled the garment down, revealing more and more creamy skin as she wiggled out of it. Finally, the skirt slipped free and pooled around her feet. Beneath her boots, black stockings encased her legs to mid-thigh, topped by a thick band of lace. An excellent addition to his fantasy. And it might serve as a good resting place for the spatula between spankings.

With her skirt on the floor, her blouse hung free. The tiny strip of exposed skin from her belly to her neck was sexier than any form of nakedness.

She removed the blouse slowly, torturously slowly. She had learned some valuable skills in that burlesque class.

With every bit of clothing she took off, her hands trembled a little less. Her chest heaved a little slower. Funny how she was more confident naked—in her own skin.

She worked diligently to do as he asked, and when she stilled, he admired her flawless skin and beautiful curves. Two things she never put on public display. Until her night on stage. But this time it was only for him.

“I said all of your clothes.” She was still only half naked.

She obeyed, removing the small scraps of lace. He had to hold back his desire. That night on stage, she’d been partially covered, her sex hidden behind the skimpiest fabric imaginable, her pert nipples covered by tassels. But now, she was fully exposed. All of her. Every inch available for his viewing, for his taking.

“Find an apron,” he commanded.

Without hesitation she rummaged through a drawer beside the stove.

“Slowly,” he ordered. He wanted to enjoy the way her breasts swayed back and forth with her actions. To appreciate the unobstructed view he had between her legs.

Unfortunately, she was quick to find what she was looking for. She pulled out a pink apron.

“Put it on and come over to me.”

Her confidence had started to wane. A slight tremble shook her hands when she placed the strap over her head and secured the ties around her waist. Her boots clicked on the tile, and with each step closer, the scent of orange, of Veronica, surrounded him.

Positioning her in front of the kitchen island, he aligned his body with the back of hers. She pushed back against him, putting pressure on his aching erection.

He brushed his fingers across her skin, starting at her neck and moving down to her shoulders, then her arms, finally grasping her hands and placing them firmly on the counter.

The smooth line of her back was so delicate. The two dimples above her bottom incredibly sexy. And the perfect round globes of her ass, with the softest luminescent skin he’d ever seen, was beyond his dreams.

He reached for the spatula, his own hands trembling with excitement at the knowledge that his fantasy was finally about to come true.

He ran the utensil slowly down her back in a straight line against her spine. When he got to her bottom, he traced down the crease. Her response was a shiver and a tiny whimper.

“Bend over. Place your forearms on the counter and spread your legs.”

She was a model student. Minimum hesitation. Maximum obedience.

When she was ready, he tightened his grip around the handle. He stepped to the side, taking position, as if stepping up to home plate. She glanced over her shoulder and their eyes met. She knew. This fantasy wasn’t about pain. She knew he would never physically hurt her. It was about his control and her obedience. And she wanted this, too—needed it as much as he did.

He took aim and followed through, the spatula hitting her bottom for the very first time with a
thwack.

She gasped and tensed the moment it struck, but it was more sound and sting than actual pain. Her hands fisted against the granite counter but he couldn’t take his eyes off of the warm crimson glow that spread across her skin.

He made contact a second time. Her gasp was louder, the tension of her body less noticeable. She opened herself up, laid her trust in his hands, knowing he would push her only so far, to the point where the sting turned into a pleasure she’d never experienced.

“Veronica, look at me.”

She turned, letting her chin rest against her shoulder, and he was taken aback by the acceptance in her gaze.

He’d never met a woman he felt comfortable enough to play with. To lower his guard and let her see this side of his personality—the controlling, demanding, kinky side. He’d never expected Veronica to be the one to cater to his sexual fantasies. Never in a million years. But the light in her eyes made him wonder…he may not have been the only one harboring these fantasies.

He returned his attention to her luscious behind. Each time the spatula made contact she pushed her bottom back, her gasps turning into groans of need. The sight of her skin, the sound of her enjoyment, it all sent an ache to places he desperately needed to sate, and gave him a rush of power he’d never felt before. The kind that made him want to give her anything and everything, as long as it made her feel good. The thought of being the person responsible for her pleasure was overwhelming, but exciting.

Even more exciting was the fact that she was enjoying this. A lot more than he’d anticipated. And he was even more shocked when he noticed her hand creep down between her legs. When she cupped her sex, three fingers disappeared between her folds and started to move, manipulating her most sensitive area.

But as the man in charge of her pleasure for the night, he hadn’t told her she could remove her hands from the counter.

He took the spatula and slid it between her thighs. With steady force, he moved her hand away, which made her whimper.

“Please. Every time you smack my ass, it spasms,” she said breathily.

“What spasms?” He smacked her again when she remained silent. “Say it.”

“Please, Finn.” She moaned and her legs clasped tight around the spatula.

“If I want you to touch yourself, I’ll tell you. Otherwise, your pleasure is mine to control.” He gathered her hair in his fist and pulled her back. “Do you understand?”

She nodded.

He removed a sleeve of condoms from his back pocket and placed it on the counter. He’d come prepared. He’d known the night was going to end up in a tangle of limbs and sweaty bodies.

“You expecting guests?” She peered over her shoulder at the long strip of packets.

“Just you and me…and a whole lot of amazing sex.”