Breathless

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Breathless Page 14

by HELEN HARDT


  Including Colin Morse.

  Including Talon.

  I sighed.

  I didn’t know why I did half the things I did these days.

  In the rearview mirror, I watched Talon get in his truck and take off to the main road to pick up the boys at the bus stop. He wouldn’t be gone long.

  I started the engine and looked behind me—

  I jolted slightly when the passenger door opened.

  Marjorie Steel sat down beside me. “Hey.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Nice car.”

  “It was my dad’s.”

  “I know.”

  Did she really hijack me to talk about the car? I opened my mouth to say as much, but nothing came out.

  “What are you doing, Bryce?” she asked.

  “I’m going to sell the car,” I said.

  “You think I’m talking about the car?” She shook her head, perplexed. “I mean what are you doing?”

  “Leaving. So if you’ll excuse me…”

  “Cut the crap. You know what I’m talking about.” Her lips were beautifully red and swollen from our kiss only moments ago. Her dark eyes were serious.

  Shit.

  She wanted to talk.

  Beware when a woman decided she wanted to talk. It never led to anything good.

  “It was just a kiss, Marjorie.”

  “You really want to go down that road?” She shook her head. “I should have known.”

  “Does everything have to have some great meaning? Does everything require a conversation?” I huffed. “Women.”

  “Women? Really? You’re going to play that card? You’re better than that, Bryce.”

  She was right. I did know better than that. My mother had been a traditional housewife, but she’d also taught me how to treat and respect women.

  And my father had backed her up.

  Man. He’d had two distinct personalities. Had he suffered from a dissociative identity? Probably not. He’d just been a major psychopath. Psychopaths were notoriously good at hiding who they were. My father had been a master at it.

  “I’m sorry,” I said to Marj. “Truly.”

  And I truly was.

  She trailed her finger over my forearm. Just that little contact had me tightening and tensing, in a majorly good way.

  Except it wasn’t a good way. Not for us. Not now.

  “Listen to me,” she said, her tone serious. “Don’t start something with me that you can’t finish.”

  Her red lips trembled slightly. The urge to touch her, kiss her, take her right here in my father’s car overwhelmed me. My cock was throbbing, aching to be set free from confinement.

  I’d already told her I had nothing to offer. Nothing to—

  Finish what you start, son.

  Damn! My fucked-up father had given me good advice over the years. Good fatherly advice. What a time for that particular advice to pop into my head.

  I’d take what I wanted, what I yearned for.

  And I’d finish it.

  Once and for all.

  Chapter Twenty–Nine

  Marjorie

  “I can’t offer you anything past today,” Bryce said to me. “I wish I could. You have no idea how much I wish I could.”

  “Fine,” I said, not caring at the moment whether it lasted past the next thirty seconds as long as I got to kiss him again. “But don’t kiss me unless you mean it.”

  His blue eyes softened. “I’ve always meant it.” He touched my cheek, his fingers making me tingle.

  “I can’t be your escape, Bryce, no matter how much I want to be.”

  “I know that. Why do you think I’m trying to stay away? You deserve better, and an escape is all I’m after right now.”

  “An escape probably doesn’t include moving into the guesthouse and working for my brothers.”

  He was silent then.

  “Have you seen the guesthouse?” I asked mischievously.

  “A time or two, when Ryan lived there. But I didn’t visit him often.”

  “Want a tour?”

  “Now?”

  “Do you have somewhere else to be?”

  Silence again.

  “Start the engine,” I said. “We’ll drive over.”

  He sighed and obeyed. “All right.”

  A few minutes later we parked at the guesthouse. “Come on,” I said, opening the car door. “It’s still fully furnished. Ryan and Ruby chose all new stuff when they moved into their permanent home.”

  Yes, still fully furnished. Including the master bedroom.

  Not that I was thinking about that…

  I unlocked the door and entered. Bryce kept a safe distance behind me. Wow. He was doing everything he could to resist me. I should leave him alone, let him deal with the issues he felt he needed to. I was a nice person. A good person.

  But I wanted this man.

  Even now, I ached between my legs just being in his presence.

  The house was immaculate. After Ryan and Ruby moved out, everything had been cleaned to a spit shine, and sheets and blankets had been changed on all the beds.

  It was a sterile environment.

  I could never resist dirtying up a sterile environment.

  But I wouldn’t push it. Bryce would have to make the first move.

  “Here we go,” I said, gesturing to the left. “The living roo—”

  With a thunk, he pushed me against the wall in the foyer and clamped his mouth to mine.

  First. Move. Made.

  I opened, letting him in and kissing him back deeply. God, his kisses. I’d done my share of making out, but Bryce kissed on another whole level. He fucked with his mouth, made me crazy with his mouth.

  Our lips slid together, and soon I was breathless, but I couldn’t bring myself to push away and gasp. I inhaled what I could through my nose as we continued making love with our mouths. When he finally broke the kiss, we both inhaled. Then he yanked on my ponytail, pushing my head back and baring my neck.

  He slid his wet lips over the sensitive skin of my neck and upper chest. “So beautiful,” he murmured.

  I closed my eyes, surrendering to the moment, to our passion.

  “I want to kiss every inch of you,” he said, his voice humming against my skin.

  “Yes,” I breathed. “Please.”

  “Bedroom,” he grunted.

  I didn’t want to move, didn’t want his lips to leave my flesh, but I forced myself, knowing the delights that would come. I grabbed his hand and nearly dragged him down the hallway to the master bedroom.

  The room was large and airy, and centered on the opposite wall was a king-size bed covered in a masculine brown comforter.

  His eyes widened. “God.”

  “What?” I said, nearly breathless.

  “The bed.”

  “Yeah, it’s a bed.”

  “I can’t…”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “I want to. You don’t even know how much I want to.”

  “What’s the problem, then?”

  I expected to hear the same old excuses. I deserved more. Pink unicorns. Baby sister.

  Instead, “I don’t have a condom on me.”

  Was that all? “I’m on the pill. And clean.”

  He inhaled, closing his eyes. “I’m clean too. I got checked after my marriage ended. Thank God.”

  He pulled me to him and tugged the band out of my ponytail. My hair fell down my back and around my shoulders. “Love your hair. Love every part of you. You’re fucking perfect.”

  I tried not to pay attention to the word “love.” He didn’t love me. He was just wildly attracted to me, as I was to him. I loved every part of him too, from the gorgeous sandy-blond hair on his head to his muscular calves and oddly beautiful feet.

  Of course, at the moment, his legs and feet were covered.

  I wanted them uncovered.

  “You’re perfect too,” I said. “Undress for me.”

&n
bsp; A smile curved his lips upward. “I give the orders here, sweetheart.”

  I bristled at the husky timbre of his voice, his command. I wasn’t submissive. Far from it. I wanted this man, though, and if he wanted me to undress, I’d do it.

  But I’d tease the hell out of him in the process.

  I shook my head, letting my hair tumble farther. Then I bent over, giving him a bird’s-eye view of my ass while I untied my sneakers. Slowly.

  His low groan was my reward.

  Damn. If he reacted this way to me taking off my shoes…

  I kicked the shoes across the floor and then removed my socks just as slowly.

  “Fuck,” he said gruffly. “Even your feet are perfect.”

  I’d always hated my feet. My second toe was slightly longer than my first, and because I was so tall, I wore a massive size-ten shoe. But the nails were painted fire-engine red, and regular pedis kept them soft and silky. I smiled.

  His compliment made me feel good.

  I continued to torture him slowly. I eased the lacy tank top over my belly, pausing for a moment before pulling it over my chest. Another few seconds passed, and it lay on the floor near my socks. I wore a pale-pink bra, no padding. I wasn’t nearly as well-endowed as Jade, but I held my own. My nipples ached, their hardness pushing against the pink lace.

  “You’re killing me.” Bryce closed his eyes and inhaled.

  I smiled. “You told me to undress. Just following orders, babe.”

  “Damn.” He opened his eyes. “Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are? What you do to a man? What you do to me?”

  I inched forward slowly and boldly cupped the bulge behind his jeans. “I have a little idea.”

  “Fuck,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “I certainly hope so,” I teased.

  I moved backward again and removed my bra. He sucked in a breath as my breasts fell softly against my chest. I cupped them, sliding my thumbs over my hard nipples. Prickles shot to my pussy still covered by jeans and panties.

  “Fuck,” he said again.

  I did a quick shimmy, showing off my boobs, and then I unsnapped and unzipped my jeans. I wore skinny jeans because they accented my long and lean legs, but getting them off in a sexy manner wasn’t really possible. I did the best I could, inching them down as if I were removing stockings and then pulling them off my feet. I stood nearly naked then, wearing only pale-pink cotton undies. I hated thongs. They were uncomfortable as hell.

  “Baby, you are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Two points for cotton, then. Thongs? Who needed them?

  I was so turned on, so wet. I eased the pink panties over my hips until they landed in a puddle around my feet. I stepped out of them. Then I sat down on the bed, spreading my legs slightly.

  “Your turn,” I teased.

  But Bryce had other ideas. He lunged toward me, fell to his knees, and spread my legs. “Need to taste you. Now.” He clamped his gorgeous lips around my swollen clit.

  I gasped, nearly jumping into climax at the mere contact. He released my clit, thank the universe, and then tongued the inside of me, sucking on my labia—felt so good—and then pushing my thighs upward a bit to slide his tongue over my asshole.

  I sucked in another breath. Hadn’t been expecting that, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, but I didn’t have a chance to give it any more thought because he went back to work on my pussy. The sweet slide of lips made me shiver and tingle, and when he glided his soft tongue over my hard clit again, I couldn’t hold back.

  “Bryce! I’m coming!”

  His groan vibrated against me, adding to the already spectacular sensations. The climax penetrated every part of me. Every pore, every cell, every tiny molecule within me burst into flames.

  “You taste so sweet, baby. So sweet.” He thrust a finger inside me. “God, so tight too.”

  The penetration forced my climax into another dimension. Shapes and colors swirled in my mind, bright pink and neon blue. I grabbed Bryce’s head, threading my fingers through his silky hair, and I ground against him, forcing his lips to suck my clit harder, his finger to thrust deeper.

  My climax continued, and with every pulse of my pussy, my body burned hotter.

  When I finally began to calm, he removed his finger and rose, still on his knees, facing me. “I plan to taste every inch of you, Marjorie Steel. Every last inch.” He pressed his lips to mine.

  I opened to his kiss, tasting the tang of my own body mingled with his woodsy peppermint flavor. My nipples ached, and I clung to him, rubbing them against the texture of his shirt, savoring the sweet passion of our kiss. When he pulled away to inhale, I trailed my lips over his cheek, letting his stubble scrape my sensitive skin. He moved to my neck, kissing and sucking, and then, finally, he cupped my swollen breasts, lowered his head, and took a nipple into his mouth.

  At first he merely slid his lips over it, softly sucking, and the need for more drove me slowly insane. I arched my back, trying to push it farther into his mouth.

  “So soft,” he said against my skin. “Like velvet.”

  They were hardly soft at the moment. I smiled, though. He was speaking of the texture of my skin, my flesh. All those years of moisturizing in the dry heat of Colorado summers had been well worth it.

  He slid his tongue around my puckered areola, and without thinking, I grabbed his hand and led it to my other nipple.

  He smiled against the swell of my breast and then clamped his lips around my nipple and sucked.

  I drew in a harsh breath. The lightning bolt spread through me, recharging me, and soon I was geared up for another orgasm simply from him tugging on my flesh.

  Amazing. I wanted more. Needed more.

  “I’m going to taste every inch of you,” he said again with a groan against my flesh. “Every. Single. Inch.”

  I opened my mouth to respond that he’d better be ready for me to do the same, but his teeth gripped my nipple, and all that came out of me was a long moan.

  He pinched the other between his thumb and forefinger, and I arched again, yearning, aching for more.

  “I could spend all day on your breasts alone,” he said, his voice even lower than normal. “So beautiful and delicious.”

  Then he dropped his hand from my breast, down to my vulva, and thumbed my clit.

  I sucked in another breath.

  “Mmm, you like that?” He thrust his finger back into my heat, still working my clit.

  When he bit my nipple again, I lost it. The climax hit me with the force of a tidal wave. I’d never been multi-orgasmic. Usually one, and I was done. But with Bryce Simpson? This was number two, and he hadn’t even undressed yet.

  “God, you’re killing me,” I panted, my eyes closed. Fragmented images swirled in my head as my whole body pulsed with the orgasm.

  “Keep coming, honey,” he said against my breast. “We’re just getting started.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Bryce

  Her flesh was so edible, and her pussy so tight and inviting. I forced another finger into her, expanding her, and she continued to clamp around me as her orgasm continued.

  Fuck. She was so damned hot.

  More than that, she was beautiful inside and out.

  This was a woman I could fall for. Really fucking fall for.

  Which meant this had to stop. Now.

  Damn. Damn. Damn.

  My cock ached. Seriously fucking ached, an ache so profound that I knew it would never end if I didn’t release inside her.

  God, inside her. No condom. Just me and her, no barrier.

  I clenched my teeth.

  If I did this, if I let this happen…

  Would once be enough? Could I get my fill and then leave, never to have her again?

  I’d be living in this house, sleeping in this bedroom.

  There’d be memories.

  We had to get out of here. Anywhere. Another bedroom. Wherever. I just couldn’t have these memories here,
in this room. I’d never get over her if I had to sleep here night after night.

  When her orgasm subsided and she lay back on the bed, nearly limp, I took the chance I had. I swept her into my arms and carried her out of the master bedroom.

  Her eyes snapped open. “What? Where are we going?”

  “Somewhere with a bed,” I gritted out.

  “Uh…we were somewhere with a bed.”

  I didn’t answer, just moved to the next bedroom that had a queen bed. I tried not to think about the fact that my mother might be using this room. Or Henry.

  No time for those thoughts. I laid Marjorie on the bed, her eyes still wide.

  “I don’t underst—”

  I lay down next to her, still fully clothed, and silenced her with a deep kiss. I didn’t expect her to understand my reasoning. I wasn’t completely sure of it myself. So I kissed her. And I kissed her. And I kissed her some more, stealing her sweetness and letting it saturate me.

  I let my fingers trail over her chest, her breasts, down the small swell of her belly to her vulva and then through her folds still slick for me. My dick was straining against the prison of my jeans, longing for freedom, longing to thrust inside Marjorie’s perfect cunt.

  But I hadn’t tasted every inch of her yet.

  “Take your clothes off, Bryce. Please. Let me touch you.”

  I was tempted, to be sure. So tempted. But if I undressed, she’d go for my cock, and I wasn’t ready for this to be over yet. If I was only going to have her once more, I wanted to savor it, relish it, take my time and drive both of us to the brink of insanity.

  “Not yet,” I said gruffly.

  “Please…” On a soft sigh.

  “Not yet,” I said in a more commanding tone.

  “Damn you,” she said softly.

  I couldn’t help a slight smile. I liked being in charge in the bedroom. I liked it a lot. Marjorie Steel wasn’t a woman who submitted easily. In fact, her demeanor indicated she’d fight it. If I had the time, I could teach her the joys of submission. I could teach her everything about obedience during sex and the pleasure it could bring to both of us.

  But that was a luxury denied me.

 

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