Authors: Jennifer LaRose
Whiltby Jr. rushed forward, nearly tumbling headfirst into
the bar. Brent grabbed him by the arm to intercept the fall. “Easy, Sean,
unless your intention is to end up with a head full of stitches tonight.”
Impressive. Brent held him up with a single hand and didn’t
even break a sweat.
“Miss Parschen, are you ready to let me take that coat yet?”
“No, Sean, I—”
“Yes,” Brent interrupted. He released Sean’s arm and placed
his hands on her shoulders. “She’s been waiting for someone to ask her to
dance.”
“Why didn’t you just say so?” He hiccupped and grabbed hold
of her fingers. “The next one is mine.”
“Sorry, Sean,” Brent said, breaking Sean’s grasp from her
hand. “She’s mine for the rest of the evening.”
Holy wow
. The possession in those words withered her
insides to mush.
With painstakingly slow motions, Brent removed the coat from
her shoulders. His fingers caressed her skin as he slid it down her arms one
erotic inch at a time, as if removing a gown. Her heartbeat escalated into a
thundering drum inside her ears. And while his intense gaze compelled her to do
nothing more than comply, she suddenly felt like a puppet whose strings and
actions were controlled by the master puppeteer.
A blanket of warm air wrapped around her when he’d removed
the coat and laid it over a barstool. Inch by slow, tantalizing inch, his eyes
patrolled her body. Every fraction of her being went up in smoke.
“Baby, I could nibble on you all night.”
Her tummy vaulted. Any more vocal seduction and she’d have
to call it a night to cure the ache with her showerhead or dildo. Both seemed
enticing at the moment.
Taking her by the hands, he stared long and hard into her
eyes. Mesmerized by his aura of confidence, she followed his lead as he began
walking backward, drawing her to the dance floor.
He stopped to pull her gently toward him. He placed one hand
on her back. The other cupped her fingers and he held them against a hot, bare
section of skin directly above his breast. She whimpered a sigh as their bodies
melded together. An unfamiliar feeling of trust lingered and she found it
soothing in an odd way. Never had she experienced such comfort and warmth. Like
a cub held between a tiger’s paws, so tiny, and protected and shielded from
harm.
He lowered his palm to the base of her spine and pulled her
close. So close she felt his erection prod her belly. She pressed into the hard
shaft with further assistance from his hand. A soft growl escaped his throat
and his fingers tightened around hers. The sound absorbed into her sensual
psyche, turning her on to such a degree her pussy ached and warm juice flowed
from her body again.
If the good Lord smiled upon her tonight and granted her one
wish, she’d wish the evening would never end.
Sliding her fingers inside Brent’s shirt, she placed them on
his back. Rugged, taut muscles rested beneath her hand. As if touching him were
the most natural thing in the world, she began caressing him with a
featherlight touch. She closed her eyes and rested her cheek on his breastbone.
As Willie Nelson’s
You Were Always on My Mind
flowed
from the speakers, Brent led her into step, swaying softly. He began singing
the beautiful lyrics, the timbre of his voice quaking inside his chest. The
mixture of his lyrical vibrations and the
thump-thump, thump-thump
ofhis heartbeat caused tremors against her cheek, lulling her into a dream
state.
Within the moment, everyone in the room disappeared from her
mind’s eye. He could’ve laid her down on the dance floor in that instant and
made love to her until morning.
“Annalee?”
“Mmm-hmm?”
“Look at me.”
Slowly she lifted her head and gazed into his eyes. His
forehead glistened with perspiration and his irises had grown so dark his
pupils disappeared.
“Do you trust me?”
She nodded.
“Spend the night with me.”
Oh the beauty in those few words. Her tummy jumped in
excitement while her heart wrapped around the sensuality of his tone. She
searched his face, looking for some type of emotion. Honesty? Passion?
Reluctance? No, she expected reluctance to be displayed in
her
expression.
Not because she didn’t want to sleep with him, she’d die for the opportunity,
but she feared boring him and becoming a regret. Boredom previously cost her a
fiancé. How much more could her self-esteem endure?
But Brent was different. He wasn’t the type of man to clam
up and run off. If she couldn’t please him—no, he wouldn’t allow that to
happen. “Are you married, Brent?”
“No.”
“Dating?”
“I’ve waited years for you, Annalee.”
Her heart melted. Although she didn’t understand why he’d
waited
,
it’s exactly what she’d needed to hear. “Then what are you waiting for? Take me
home.”
He lowered their hands and guided her toward the bar. They
hadn’t even exited the dance floor when high-pitched laughter assailed her
ears. She halted, forcing Brent to stop beside her.
Holding her breath, she tightened the squeeze on his hand
and reluctantly glanced over her shoulder. To her dismay, Willow, dressed as a
princess, stood arm in arm with Jared by the entrance. Jared was dressed
as…Jared and didn’t seem interested in the party, which was the reason he
refused to attend with Annalee. Or so she thought at the time. Willow obviously
had a few tricks that made him follow her around like a puppy dog. Had she
brought out the whip and beat him into submission?
Ugh.
What convinced Willow to buy a costume and show up anyhow?
Was she determined to rub Annalee’s nose in the shitty situation she’d created?
Ironically, as if Jared knew Annalee’s thoughts, he looked
directly at her and then his eyes lowered to fondle her bare midsection.
Although her hands began to sweat and her body trembled, she smiled and waved.
What else could she do? And while she put on the
happy face
to hide her
disdain, Brent’s gaze burned into the top of her head.
“Who’s the guy?” He laid his hand on her lower back.
“Christ, you’re tense. What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. Let’s get out of here.”
He slid his fingers beneath her chin and lifted her face.
For a long time he studied her eyes before his lips lowered to hers in a kiss
that melted her heart.
He tasted warm and sweet, and she’d found heaven having just
witnessed hell.
A hand on the back of her head held her in place while he
twirled and suckled her tongue deep inside his mouth. Many nights, years ago,
she dreamt of this. Holding him. Kissing him. The fantasies confined to her
little mind fed her lust, but she’d lived the dream tonight, and passion raced
through her blood.
His penis nudged her stomach and his tongue expertly claimed
her mouth. She moaned and tried deepening the contact between their bodies, but
it was impossible to get any closer.
He slowed the kiss, eventually separating their lips, and
rested his chin on the top of her head. “Annalee, get your coat,” he growled.
But even as he said it, his arms tightened around her back as if not wanting to
let her go.
Not needing to be told twice, she made a swift getaway to
the bar. Sean sat on a stool, his head drooped forward and arms crossed on the
polished wood, holding a mixed drink.
“Sean, thanks for the great party,” she said, removing her
coat from the nearby stool where Brent had laid it. “I’ll see you Monday.”
His head bobbed and he mumbled inaudibly. She smiled, patted
his shoulder and turned, and nearly bumped into Brent’s huge chest. Without a
word, he took the coat and held it while she slipped her arms into the sleeves.
“Where are you staying?” she asked, working quickly to button up.
“At the airport hotel.”
“Are we taking my car?”
“I’ve got a loaner out back. I’ll follow you.”
Placing a hand on the base of her spine, he guided her to
the exit. He caught Brody’s attention and nudged his head toward the parking
lot. Brody nodded as if he understood they were leaving.
After they left the building and headed toward her vehicle,
frozen slush crunched under their shoes. Regardless of possibly slipping and
falling on her ass, in her present sexual fervor her feet moved too slowly.
Just as they reached her SUV, she pressed the code on the
number panel to unlock the door. “Brent, can we leave your car here until
morning?”
He pulled the door open and nudged his head inside. “Get
in.”
She climbed over the console and settled into the
passenger’s side. “The keys are under the floor mat.”
As soon as he started the engine and shifted levers to
adjust the area to his size, he reclined against the seat and gazed from her
thighs, trembling in their skimpy chiffon fabric, to her eyes. The halogen
lights from outside offered dim lighting inside the vehicle and she watched his
gaze, dark and intense, explore her face as if memorizing every detail. What a
huge man. Two inches came between the top of his head and the roof.
Her belly stirred. If he didn’t get on the road soon, she
just might jump on his lap and fulfill the ache in her pussy.
“Who’s the guy inside who eye-fucked you on the dance floor?”
Jared? Ha, he eye-fucked her? It’s more than she’d gotten
from him in…who cared. It didn’t matter anymore.
“Well?”
Her gaze dropped to her lap where she fumbled with a coat
button. “I’d rather not—”
“Annalee?” He reached across the console, took hold of her
chin and lifted her face. “Talk to me.”
Reluctantly she met his gaze. “Please, Brent, not now. I
don’t want to ruin the evening.”
“That isn’t possible.”
Despite the delicate restraint he held on her chin, she
inhaled a deep, shoulder-lifting breath. “My ex-fiancé Jared. And the
princess
…ex-best
friend Willow.”
“Recent affair?”
“Yes.”
He released her chin and cupped his fingers over the hand
fidgeting with the button. The calming effect eased all ill feelings she’d
harbored during the past thirteen days. The fact Jared and Willow were screwing
behind her back still hurt, but not as badly. She’d accepted the beating to her
pride and moved on with her life. What she couldn’t get past was the fact Jared
doubted her ability to fulfill his needs. It only made her feel like less of a
woman and incapable of pleasing a man. “I was engaged that day you called, but
by midnight, I became a single woman.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“How long have they been involved?”
“A couple months.”
“Christ, Annalee. Why would you do that to yourself? You
deserve better than that.”
Her gaze snapped up from her lap and she glared at him. “I
had no clue. Not until that night when I saw whip marks all over his body.”
Brent raised a questioning brow.
“Sexual obsessions. He calls them
needing more
. I was
clueless to those as well.” Now that she’d talked openly about them, she’d
never felt a bigger fool for making excuses for Jared’s aloofness rather than
investigating his dramatic change. Especially to Willow. “He presumed I was too
innocent to fulfill his desires, so he wanted to marry me and keep her on the
side. I can’t believe it.”
Brent squeezed her hand. “You were engaged to the guy, how
could you not have known?”
His skepticism raised the hair on the back of her neck. “Why
would I?” she snapped defensively.
“Communication.”
“Are you kidding? We never talked about sex.” Never talked
during sex either. Even when they used to spend entire days in bed, other than
switching positions, things stayed pretty simple.
“It wasn’t obvious in his technique when making love to
you?”
“My best friend kindly took over the receiving end of my sex
life.”
“From the onset of the affair?”
“Pretty much.” She glanced through the passenger window and
released a long breath. “He used me for a quick fuck to fill in the gap between
Willow sessions.” Why was she talking to Brent about this? Had she
subconsciously chosen to warn him of her sexual inadequacies before giving him
the opportunity to find out for himself?
Spending the night together suddenly turned into a bad idea.
“You know, I think I’m just going to go home.”
“No, Annalee, you’re not,” he stated firmly.
Okay
. Issue resolved.
The tightening of his fingers returned her gaze to her lap.
She placed her free hand on top of his, which barely concealed half of its
size, and caressed the skin in between his knuckles before sliding her
fingertips along the length of his thick fingers.
“Too innocent, huh?” he asked.
She shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah, I suppose.”
“And if he had asked you to experiment?”
She nodded shyly. “I’m not afraid to try anything once.”
Chapter Three
Brent escorted Annalee into his hotel room, turned on the
light and twisted the lock to secure the deadbolt. She stood beside him with
both hands clasped around his arm at the elbow. The instant he guided her
through the short foyer and into the heart of the room, her grip tightened. He
halted and glanced at her, but she stood wide-eyed, staring at the bed,
oblivious to everything else. Either she had second thoughts about spending the
night together or she couldn’t wait to hop under the sheets. He hoped to hell
it was the latter.
Rather than giving her additional time to dwell, he sat down
on the mattress to pull off his boots.
She cowered past the bed and sat down on the couch.
“What’s the matter, Annalee?”
“I’d rather we go to my house. Is that okay?”
“Why?” He glanced around the room, looking for something
that may have spooked her. The only thing out of place was the duffel bag he’d
left on the floor with clothes piled on top. He hadn’t expected to fly into
town so late, which delayed his arrival at Whiltby’s party, so he hadn’t taken
time to unpack. If something that trivial upset her, it was a problem. “What’s
wrong?”
“It’s silly.”
“What? The room?” He glanced straight ahead at her reflection
in the oval mirror and his blood stirred. She fascinated him—she always had.
“No, it’s cute. Three rooms in one. I like it.”
Okay, that narrowed things down. If she didn’t mind the
room, that left
him
. “I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t
want to.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?” He kicked his boots beside the bed and
joined her on the couch, where she, without looking at her fingers, picked at
the cuticles. He steadied her hands between his palms. “Bedbugs?”
“No.” She shook her head and slightly laughed. “I told you,
it’s silly.”
“That’s your opinion. Talk to me.”
“It’s,” she took a deep breath and slumped her shoulders,
“the bedspread.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s yellow.”
His brows arched as he glanced at the bed then lowered his
eyes to her face. “Okay. A yellow bedspread. I don’t understand the
significance.”
“I, um,” she looked down at their hands in her lap, “have a
slight fear of the color yellow
.”
He’d never heard of that before,
but what did he know about fears and phobias?
“That’s it?”
Her bottom lip trembled while she nodded.
“There are a lot of yellow things
in the world. How do you cope?”
She battered her lashes and
sighed. “I can tolerate most things, but I freak if yellow cloth touches my
skin.”
“Blankets, towels, clothes?”
“Yeah. I told you it was silly.”
“Unusual maybe, but not silly. Why
would that fear be any different than the fear of spiders or snakes or heights?
Obviously you can’t help it.” He brought her hands to his lips. “What causes
it?”
Her gaze danced across his face.
“Different
things.” She smiled timidly and a
pink flush rose to her cheeks.
It emphasized the shade of her dark-blue, passionate eyes.
The unique lavender flecks sparkling in the center of her irises intrigued him
from the first day they’d met. They appeared richer in color tonight, but the
dull lighting might have been a factor.
“I guess in my case, it’s fear by
association. Trauma,” she continued. “When I was a little girl, a yellow truck
rear-ended my mom’s vehicle. We were banged up pretty badly, and they rushed us
away in an ambulance. The doctor said it probably caused the phobia.”
“Well, baby, I can take care of that right now.” He stood
and yanked the bedspread off the bed. “Problem solved.” Other than driving to
the store to buy his own bath and hand towels, there wasn’t anything he could
do about the bathroom linens. With a hotel named Sunshine Inn, the contents of
the rooms were pretty self-explanatory. “You’ll want to shower at home though.”
He folded the bedspread and set it on a high shelf inside the closet.
“That’s fine,” she said, her voice sounding more relaxed.
“How do you and your brother both fit in this puny place?”
“We don’t. I wouldn’t have brought you here if we bunked
together.” Strolling back to the couch, he held out his hand. The arousal she’d
stirred when he’d held her flush against his body on the dance floor had
reached its peak. For such a little woman, she left a big impression. But from
prior experience, he’d already known that. “C’mere.”
As she stood and slipped her hand into his palm, her fingers
trembled.
He cupped her face and caressed both delicate cheekbones
with his thumbs. Lazily her black lashes fluttered upward.
“Relax, Annalee.”
She smiled but it seemed contrived. “I’m…um…am…a little
nervous.”
“Don’t be.” He found that hard to believe. This was by no
means the self-assured woman whose gaze he’d caught fondling his crotch at
Whiltby’s office more times than he could count. The fundamentals of being
alone in a cozy room were totally different than sitting side by side at an
office desk though. Or her ex seriously fucked her up. “Let’s start with this.”
He slid his fingers into her hair, searching for clips to un-secure the
headpiece.
She reached to help but he replaced her hands at her sides.
“I’ll do it.” He needed to set the tone for the evening and give insight into
who’s in charge.
I’m not afraid to try anything once.
Tonight he’d
discover just how willingly she’d back up that statement.
Gently he pulled two metal clips free and set them in her
hand. “How many more?”
“Three.”
While he searched, she shifted weight to her right foot and
brought her hands up once more. “They’re right here,” she said, grasping one
with her fingernails.
“I told you,” he grabbed both hands, lowered them to his
mouth and kissed her palms, “I’d take care of it.”
After returning her hands to her sides, he dislodged the
final three, patting flyaway strands of hair that pulled free with the clips.
After he slipped her ponytail through the headdress, long, straight tresses
fell over her shoulders and chest. A fruity aroma drifted to his nose,
instantly taking him back to the days at the office. Many times she’d squeezed
his hand, branding her touch into his memory. It’s not something he’d
forgotten. When he’d departed for Seattle, he’d carried the essence with
him—even out to sea, where its power nurtured him through lonely nights and
comforted his battle wounds.
He tossed the headpiece on the couch and delicately massaged
her scalp where the hair had been tugged up at the sides. The soft, silky
strands worked as an elixir to his calloused fingertips. “You’re beautiful.”
He attended the party for one reason. One. Hoping to find
her in attendance. And when he’d spotted her in back by the bar, damn—why
hadn’t he come back sooner? He’d wasted a lot of time. Time he’d never recoup.
Finding her in the realm of a broken relationship worked to
his advantage. Not that he was happy she’d suffered heartache during the
traumatic breakup, but whether or not she’d realized it yet, she needed to be
stroked and kissed and comforted, having been savaged by her ex. The timing
couldn’t be more perfect.
One button at a time, he unfastened her coat. Her gaze
followed his fingers along the descent then it lowered to the floor. “Are you
having second thoughts?” he asked, sliding his hands to her shoulders beneath
the fabric.
She inhaled sharply. “No. I want it.”
As he slipped the coat along her arms, he took his time to
caress her skin. Despite the warmth of her body, she shuddered and goose bumps
rose on her flesh. “Are you okay?”
She chewed her bottom lip and nodded. “Uh-huh,” flowed from
her on a sigh.
He removed the coat and tossed it beside the headpiece.
“Annalee?”
“Yes?”
“Look at me.” A dreamy stare captured his eyes. “Now kiss
me.”
She gripped the sides of his waist, tiptoed, and very
gently, too gently, brushed her lips against his. Her mouth quivered and lashes
fluttered closed. “Open your eyes,” he whispered.
When they slowly opened, the passion in her gaze chased
every ounce of blood to his cock. It hardened and throbbed, pushing against his
soft leather pants. He placed his hand on her lower spine and pulled her close,
pressing his cock into her belly. The contact was supposed to provide some
relief. Instead it added pressure to his balls. A blinding pressure, urging him
to rip off her clothes and give in to an unyielding fuck. But he refused to go
that far. The timing wasn’t right. It appeared that’s all she’d been getting
from the selfish ex. Tonight, Brent would give her something more. Something to
remember that’d ease the pain the asshole caused. He couldn’t understand why
Jared shoved Annalee aside for the redhead she’d put to shame. Although the
intrigue behind BDSM was very influential. “Feel what you do to me?”
She nodded. The swell of her breasts rose as her breathing
increased. Her nipples hardened, brushing his chest during each languorous
breath she inhaled through her nostrils.
“I’m not going to fuck you,” he said, wrapping his hand
around the back of her neck. He drew her face near and placed his lips on the
crown of her head.
She tensed. “You’re not?”
The disappointment in her tone made him smile. “I’m going to
make love to you like you deserve.” He laid his hand at the center of her
spine. “Starting right now.” With a twist of his fingers, he unhooked her
halter. As the elastic band sprang open, he ran his palms up and down the
contour of her back from shoulder blades to tailbone. Her stiff muscles
slackened during each caress along her warm, smooth skin. A silent moment
later, she completely relaxed, and with a slow indrawn breath, she laid her
forehead against his chest.
A tremor ran through her just as she lifted an arm to untie
the strap at her neck. He grabbed her hand. “No,” he whispered, replacing her
delicate fingers on his waist. “Undressing you is my job.”
He reached beneath her hair and untied the bow. Taking a
thin strap in each hand, he peeled the satin fabric away from her breasts and
disposed of it on the couch.
He sucked in a silent breath and she immediately crossed her
arms. Christ, he’d waited too many years for this night. Modesty was
not
going
to spoil it. He didn’t know what the future held, but if destiny didn’t allow
him to see her again, he’d make sure he’d see
all
of her first. “Don’t
hide your body from me.”
She tilted her face toward the floor. “I’m afraid I won’t
meet your expectations.”
Expectations?
His expectations?
“Christ, Annalee, you
go way beyond anyone’s expectations.” Yeah, the loser ex needed an ass
kicking—he’d done serious damage. “Never,” he said, taking hold of her wrists,
“think any differently.” He took a long step backward, holding her at an arm’s
length, and rolled his gaze along her body from her stilettos to her flushed
cheeks. “Look at me.”
Her gaze slowly rose from the floor, skimmed his legs, his
chest, and finally settled on his eyes.
“I know Jared hurt you, but my God.” He led her to the bed
and sat her down. “This
needing more
he referred to, it’s powerful
stuff. I get why he didn’t want to introduce you to the play, but I don’t
understand why he didn’t try.”
She nudged her shoulders. “Why?”
“It can get pretty intense. You’ve seen his welts.” Damn,
she was beautiful. And here she sat beside him, half naked, and he was talking
about her ex’s sex life. “Look,” Brent tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“He said he still wanted to marry you. You couldn’t have possibly done anything
to turn him off. If he wasn’t man enough to approach you about his game, it’s
his fuckup, not yours. He doesn’t deserve you.”
He glanced at her perky, moderately sized breasts and sucked
in a breath. “But you will never,” he laid her back on the bed, “hide your body
from me. Ever.”
He kissed her, darting his tongue between her teeth. Alcohol
and sweetness lingered on her breath. Her hands held the backside of his head as
her tongue danced alongside his. So he’d wanted to keep things slow and easy?
Yeah, that wasn’t happening. Just tasting her and listening to her choppy
breaths awakened his greed and lust and whatever the hell else was buried
inside his guts. He expelled four years of pent-up emotion in that one
kiss—lapping and suckling and mingling and searching. And the desperation in
the grip she’d fisted in his hair gave a pulse to his cock that pounded his
balls.
Her soft whimpers soared above the drumming in his ears when
he slipped his fingers beneath her waistband. He eased the pressure from her
mouth and ended the kiss with a tender pat to her lips. Panting, he rested his
forehead against hers and teased her belly by sliding his palm back and forth
between her hipbones. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.” He rubbed
noses. “Lie still.”
He sat up, drinking in the sight of her flat belly and the
sheer pants barely concealing her thighs. The rate of his pulse blew past the
speed of his rapid breaths. After delivering a fingertip caress along the curve
of her waist that made her twitch, he squatted in between her legs, unstrapped
her right shoe and slid it off her foot. In a firm stroke, he ran his thumb
along her sole. A faint giggle accompanied a slight jerk of her leg.
“Ticklish?”
“A little.”
He brought her foot to his mouth and kissed the inside of
the sensual arch, smiling to himself when her breath snagged. The woman had
more curves than an hourglass. He could spend days finding and tracing each
one.
Gently he set her foot on the floor and repeated the routine
to her other. And as much as he wanted to tickle it until she cried, he
refrained, stood up and inserted his fingers inside her waistband. His gaze
captured hers while he tugged the pants, pantyhose and her panties over her
hips, rolled them down her legs and slid them off her feet.