Shiver

by Suzanne Wright

  Good. “He deserved it.”

  “Yeah, he did. Especially since he would have loved to hear that you were almost killed by fans of Michael. It would have added spice to his book.” Blake landed a soft kiss on my mouth. “He’ll never bother you again.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And neither will Reed or Ricky.” He stroked a hand down my hair, face all soft as he stared down at me. “I love you,” he whispered.

  “And I love you.” Content, I lay my head on his chest again. I just couldn’t resist saying … “Told you it wasn’t Cade.”

  “Shut up.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Lying naked on the delightfully soft rug and enjoying the warmth of the fire on my skin, I did a long, lazy stretch. “Damn, I love the Vault.”

  Earlier, I’d said I wouldn’t mind going to a ski resort some time. Hours later, Blake had brought me to this room within the basement and said that he’d take me skiing one day but this would do for now.

  The glass windows offered a fake but utterly breathtaking view of ski slopes. With the wooden ceiling beams, stone fireplace, and antlered heads hanging on the log walls, you could easily believe you were in a ski lodge. Yep, it was pretty damn nice. Especially with the four-poster bed, stuffed armchairs covered in fake-fur blankets, and the little bar. A romantic, peaceful setting—a good place to deliver the news I’d been holding inside all day, waiting for the right moment.

  Blake lay beside me on the rug, doodling patterns on my stomach with his finger. I closed my eyes, enjoying his touch and the sounds of the fire crackling and popping. The smell of wood smoke mingled with the scents of hot chocolate and the whipped cream he’d earlier licked off my skin.

  My nose wrinkled as I looked at him and griped, “I’m sticky.”

  Eyes heavy-lidded with sexual satisfaction flicked to the freestanding bath in the corner. “You can use that before we leave,” he said. “No point in you bathing now. I’ll be getting you sticky again in a few minutes.”

  “I do appreciate your quick recovery time. I don’t think I tell you that often enough.”

  He put a hand over his heart. “I feel it in here.”

  I burst out laughing. I couldn’t resist Fun Blake. I didn’t see him a lot, since he was a mostly serious person.

  Blake pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “I checked to see how your book was doing. It’s still number one on the horror genre category.”

  I smiled. My newest release was selling well, and the reviews were great. “A publisher contacted me this afternoon. They’re interested in acquiring rights to my series.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. I’d say congratulations, but you don’t look interested in signing them over.”

  “I’m not, to be honest. And that makes me feel ungrateful. Plenty of people would love to be offered a book deal. But I don’t want to sign with a publisher. Not just because it would mean exposing my real identity to them, but because I like self-publishing. I like having total creative control. The publisher could help me reach a wider audience, sure, but I’m fine with the way things are. I don’t see the sense in trying to fix what isn’t broken.”

  “Okay. I think you should still hear their offer, because you should always know exactly what you’re turning down. But if it’s not for you, just tell them no. I’ll support you whatever you want to do.” He stroked over the thin line on my temple where the gash used to be. There was a slight scar, but you probably wouldn’t see it unless you were looking for it. My injuries had all healed so the cast was gone, thank God. It had been damn annoying.

  “Thank you. Your support is appreciated.” I kissed him. “Now stop looking at the scar. It only pisses you off.”

  “What happened marked you. I hate that. And I hate that you have that reminder whenever you look in the mirror.”

  I gently grazed his jaw with my nails. “It doesn’t bother me as much as you seem to think it does. What bothers me is that you still feel that you hold some blame in what happened.” Only Ricky and Reed bore the blame. Neither had made bail, and their trials would begin soon. I’d have to testify, which I wasn’t looking forward to, but I’d do what needed to be done to ensure those assholes didn’t walk. “You said you’d stop feeling guilty if I gracefully accepted the new G80. You’re not living up to your end of the bargain.”

  A smile tugged at Blake’s mouth. “You’re right. I’ll stop.”

  “I have news that might lift your mood.”

  He raised a brow. “Oh?”

  As it didn’t yet feel like the right moment to tell him, I instead said, “Cade moved in with Kerri.”

  Blake’s mouth twitched the tiniest bit. “Why would that interest me?” he asked, feigning aloofness.

  I snorted. “Because it’s proof that he’s not pining away for me.”

  Blake snorted right back at me. “He’d leave her for you in a fucking heartbeat.”

  I threw my hands up in the air. “I give up. You’re beyond help at this point.”

  Chuckling, he kissed the hollow beneath my ear and then inhaled deeply. “I love your smell. I’d know it anywhere.”

  “Would you now?” Hearing my cell phone chiming, I groaned. I’d assigned that particular ringtone to Bastien, who only ever called me when he couldn’t locate Sarah after they’d argued. “Looks like there’s trouble in paradise. Again.”

  Blake sighed. “I told him to keep you out of it.”

  “You know he panics when he can’t find her. And she’s a master at hiding.” When it came to Sarah and Bastien, it was like watching one of those melodramatic yet somehow addictive soap operas—you shouldn’t find the angst and drama in the least bit entertaining, but you did.

  The funny thing was … they were actually tighter than ever. They were fully committed to each other, and she’d even moved in with him. Hell, they’d even bought a puppy together—a puppy she took with her whenever she went into hiding. But Bastien was one of those people who needed a lot of room to mess up, and Sarah was one of those people who did not tolerate any bullshit, so they bickered a lot.

  After he’d lied about having coffee with his mother, Sarah had made him suffer for weeks before she’d agreed to hear him out. When he’d revealed that the reason he met with Tara at the coffeehouse that day was to tell her that he wanted out of the project, ready to start a life with Sarah that didn’t include having one foot stuck in his past, Sarah had forgiven him. But since Reed hadn’t been lying and Liza was now in fact dead, the whole thing was irrelevant anyway.

  As for Tara … well, she’d apologized to everyone and had so far behaved herself. Now that there was no longer a project that bound her, Blake, and Bastien together, they never actually saw much of her. She seemed to spend a lot of time with Chase, one of Emma’s PIs, these days.

  Joshua, too, had behaved himself lately. I’d seen a little of him, due to the investigation, and he’d always been civil. Which I was sure secretly pissed Blake off, because he no longer had an excuse to punch him.

  I hadn’t told my mother what Joshua revealed about Maxwell, since it would mean throwing into question everything she believed about him. It would upset her little world, and she never did well with that. Besides, Maxwell had long ago ceased to matter to her. She had the people she truly cared for in her life, so she was happy.

  Speaking of the people in my mother’s life … Michael kept asking to meet Blake. Like that would ever happen. Nothing productive would come of it, and I didn’t want Michael anywhere near him … because Blake was my good thing, just like I was his.

  “About damn time,” Blake muttered when my cell finally stopped ringing. “I’ll be having a word with Bastien for bugging you. While we’re on the subject of assholes … how’s your ass?”

  “It’s still a little sore from last night.” When I’d finally let him have it. “That shouldn’t make you smile.”

  “If I thought you were in real pain, it wouldn’t. But knowing that when you move or sit you can still feel
the sting enough to remember how it felt to have my cock in your ass—that I like. I like it a lot.” He stroked his hand over my leg. “So smooth.” That same hand then cupped my pussy gently. “But not quite as smooth as here.”

  Earlier, he’d watched me shave my legs like it was the most riveting thing he’d ever seen. Then he’d asked if he could shave my pussy for me. I’d let him, trusting him to be careful, and it was actually kind of hot—especially with the dark, territorial gleam in his eyes as he’d locked his gaze on my pussy like it was all that existed.

  “I liked shaving you.” He closed his mouth around my nipple and sucked hard as his fingers fluttered and swirled over my swollen folds. “I’ll be the only one who does it from now on.”

  “Is that so?” The question came out kind of raspy, since he chose that moment to leave a suckling bite on the side of my breast.

  “That’s so.” He licked over his mark and then draped himself over me, settling his hard cock right over my pussy. “I want in you.”

  “Then take what you want.” My body automatically curved into him, like he was a magnet. That elemental draw had been there from day one, and I hadn’t stood a chance against it. Like he often said, I’d just been fighting the inevitable.

  I ran my fingers along his back as he whispered soft, butterfly kisses over my face. All the while, he gently thrust his hips; sliding his cock back and forth over my clit. It felt so good my toes actually curled. Molten lust flooded me, seeming to fill me all the way to my fingertips and toes.

  With a moan, I spread my thighs wider, hinting for him to come inside me. But he didn’t. Instead, he kissed me. Took and devastated my mouth with an urgency that had my hips bucking and my nails digging into his back in demand. He ignored that demand, softly playing his fingers through my hair and tracing the shell of my ear.

  “Blake …”

  Mouth lingering on mine, he hummed and gave me a knowing smirk. “I know what you want. You can have it soon.” He dipped two fingers inside me and swirled them around, kindling the tingles from the series of mind-blowing orgasms he’d given me earlier. “Fuck them,” he ordered.

  Clinging to his back, I lifted my hips and began impaling myself on his fingers.

  “Slow and easy. That’s it, good girl.”

  I wanted to move faster, harder—which he damn well knew—but I did as I was told. He’d only tease the hell out of me if I didn’t.

  “Let’s see how many fingers you can take.” He slid a third one inside, but he only got it about halfway in. “Keep going, baby, you can take it.” He whispered encouragements into my ear as I kept fucking his fingers. When my pussy stretched enough to take all three to the knuckles, he said, “Now let’s go for four.” Again, the finger only got about halfway in. He bit my lower lip. “Fuck them, Kensey. Take them all inside you.”

  “I’d rather have your cock.”

  “You’ll get it. First, you do this for me.”

  Resolute that I’d exercise more so I’d be strong enough to flip him onto his back and drop down hard on his dick when he got in these teasing moods, I resumed impaling myself on his fingers. My pussy stung as it stretched to accommodate them, but eventually it took all four. “No more.” Fisting wasn’t my thing.

  “No more,” he agreed, withdrawing his fingers. “So good for me, aren’t you? I think it’s time to give my girl what she wants.” He took my hands and pinned them above my head. His grip wasn’t tight enough to hurt. Just tight enough to let me feel how much stronger than me he was. “Keep your eyes on mine, Kensey.” He thrust hard, burying his cock balls-deep inside me.

  The shock of his instant possession made me inhale sharply. Full to the brim, my pussy clenched and quaked around him. Before Blake, I’d never liked being held down. But there was something about being unable to move, about being forced to take only what he chose to give me, that fired my need and made my blood thicken.

  “Love how hot and tight you are. Fucking love it.” He slowly pulled back, stroking my hypersensitive walls, making them heat and spasm. Then he slammed home again, grunting as my pussy clamped down on him. Eyes dark with need and pure masculine possession, he did it over and over—slowly withdrew and then plunged hard.

  Normally, ‘slow’ didn’t rev my engines quite so much. But the added feel of his strong hands gripping mine and his cock sliding over my clit with every thrust had me wound unbearably tight. My pussy was rippling and quivering around his cock. He was dominant and in total control, whereas I was hot and needy and so desperate that I could cry.

  I bucked my hips. “More. I need to come.”

  Agonizingly slow, he pulled back until only the head of his cock was inside me. “You got a good reason why I should let you?”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. “Not really.” I felt him smile against my ear.

  “Do you love me, Kensey?”

  “Yes.”

  He rammed himself deep, knocking the breath out of my lungs. “Are you mine?”

  “Yes,” I breathed, lips parting as he once more slowly withdrew.

  “Are you going to stay mine?”

  “Yes.” I groaned as his cock drove deep, stuffing me full of him again.

  “That’s my good girl. So perfect.” Fucking me slow and deep, he kissed me. Hot and wet and hungry. He didn’t take my mouth. He seduced it. Licked over my teeth. Sucked at the corners of my mouth. Lashed my tongue with his, coaxing mine to play.

  We shared breaths and moans as his tongue danced with mine. He didn’t rush. No, he savored. I sank into the kiss, into him, into the addictive heat of his exceptionally talented mouth. My body arched into him each time he thrust his cock deep, filling me to bursting.

  Angling his head, he kissed me deeper. Hungrier. Making me even more crazy for him. Then he went back to kissing me softly. Lazily. Like we had all the time in the world.

  Over and over, he switched, keeping me off-balance and muddling my mind. The whole thing was delicious and intoxicating and … and … and what the fuck was that?

  I opened my eyes, becoming very aware that something cold and smooth was on my third finger. “What did you just do?”

  His mouth curved. “Claimed what rightfully belongs to me.”

  “You can’t just—”

  “You said you love me. You said you’re mine. You said you wouldn’t leave.”

  “I didn’t say I’d walk down a freaking aisle.” And he hadn’t even asked.

  “You will, baby. I won’t have it any other way.” He pumped his hips, fucking me hard and fast, staring at me through eyes that glittered with a fierce determination. “You’re going to marry me, Kensey.”

  “Blake—”

  “You’re going to marry me.”

  “I haven’t—”

  “You’re going to marry me. Isn’t that right?”

  I clamped my lips closed.

  His grip on my hands tightened. “Look at my face, Kensey. Does it look like I’ll give up? Does it look like I’ll accept any answer other than the one I want? Does it?”

  No, it freaking didn’t. I snarled. “I’m going to make you wear the most ridiculous buttonhole I can find.”

  Taking that for the ‘yes’ that it was, he gave me a wicked, self-satisfied smile. “All mine.” Then he was hammering into my pussy like he wanted me to feel him in my throat. I’d be sore afterward, but I didn’t care. Not when his cock hit my g-spot with each smooth, possessive thrust, building the friction inside me until I couldn’t stand it.

  My body tightened. Shook. Screamed for release.

  He kissed me hard and growled into my mouth. “I fucking love you.”

  At those words, I shattered. The scream got trapped in my throat as waves of pleasure so intense they were almost unbearable washed over me and blew me apart. Blake shoved his cock deep and exploded, flexing his hips as if to make sure his come shot as deep as it could go. Then we both sort of sagged to the rug, panting.

  When my brain finally switched back on, I wiggled my fin
gers. “Are you going to let me see it?” He released my hands, and my throat thickened at the sight of the princess cut diamond flanked by little shiny stones all set in a white gold ring. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Like you,” he whispered against my mouth before giving me a soft, drugging kiss.

  I wanted to say something profound. Meaningful. Something that reflected the emotions rushing through me. But it was hard to find the right words. Especially when my throat felt thick and tears welled up. I settled on … “My heart feels full. Like something’s swelling inside my chest.”

  His face went all soft. “That’s because you’re happy and you love me.”

  I smiled. “Yeah, it is. So, when people ask how you proposed, what do I tell them?”

  “The truth. I slid my ring on your finger while you were distracted and then I wouldn’t let you take it off.” He rested his forehead on mine. “You would have laughed if I got down on one knee.”

  He was right. I wouldn’t have been able to keep a straight face if he’d done anything remotely cliché. He knew me too well.

  His hand splayed possessively on my stomach. “One day.”

  Knowing what he meant, I sighed. “One day.” His lopsided grin made me smile. “You look so annoyingly smug right now.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be smug? I have everything I want. You should know that I’m not one of those people who’s willing to wait two years before my woman walks down the aisle. I don’t care how big or small the wedding is—have it however you want it—but I won’t wait more than four months.”

  That was hardly surprising, given his general character. “I don’t want a big production anyway.” I only wanted to share that day with the people who truly mattered to me. “I’d rather have something so low key that I probably won’t need more than a month to plan it. The trick will be hiring venues at such short notice. You know, it’s a real shame we can’t get married in the basement.” My mother would have a hernia if she realized what went on down here.