by Anne Oliver
‘Come here, Breanna.’ Calmly spoken, his demand bounced off the walls and vibrated through her body as he tossed his jacket down.
‘It’s more comfortable here,’ she began. ‘There’s—’
‘Now, Breanna.’ All semblance of calm vanished, impatience rolled in like thunder to take its place. ‘And bring that remote with you, wherever it is.’
She picked it up from the low table as she walked—in a deliberately relaxed fashion—towards him. Relaxed? Her insides were quivering, her knees liquefying.
His hand shot out, palm up. She met his gaze force for force as she handed him the remote. Up close he looked even more formidable. Almost the way he’d looked the first time she’d seen him. Her pulse hiked. ‘If you want to change the music you pr—’
‘I want to raise the panels.’
She blinked. ‘Raise them?’ Spoil the atmosphere she’d created with so much care and anticipation? But she knew by his demeanour not to argue. ‘Green button, top left.’
The panels rose. The rain had eased and watery afternoon sunshine filtered in, highlighting the stark features of the man standing in front of her. Black pricks of stubble on his tight jaw, steely resolution in his eyes, those usually full lips compressed into a line.
Had she thought she’d influenced his decision to come back? She was no longer so sure. He didn’t look like a man being coerced into doing something he didn’t want to do as he tossed the remote onto the mat alongside his jacket. He looked like a man in control. What was worse, he was calling the shots—and Breanna was doing his bidding.
She found herself almost wilting under his scrutiny and drew herself up. ‘I—’
‘Don’t. Don’t say anything.’
For emphasis, or because he no doubt expected a fulsome retort from her, he reached out, pressed a thumb against her lips. He wrapped the other hand around her hair, twisted it around his wrist, forcing her to look up at him. ‘We’re going to do this my way.’ He slid his thumb slowly along the seam of her lips. ‘No messing about in dark corners.’ He jutted his chin toward the windows where the light poured in then looked back into her eyes so there was no escaping that gaze. ‘I want to see you well and properly while we do it.’
And she didn’t say anything because, possibly for the first time in her life, she was speechless. Dumbstruck with a trembling and new kind of anticipation that swirled through her body. Gobsmacked because this wasn’t happening how she’d planned. This was not how it was supposed to happen.
He gave her no time, laying a firm mouth on hers with ruthless and practised precision, sending tingles from her lips to the soles of her bare feet.
Her hands, which had hung useless at her sides for the past couple of moments, rose to his belt buckle only to be brushed aside by a strong hand. He lifted his lips barely enough to remind her, ‘My way.’
‘B—’
Okay. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to be swept away by pure sensation. Her breasts felt full, swollen, her nipples tight, and she wished he would just soothe the ache—anyhow he liked. She breathed in the scent of warm man and sandalwood. The slow seductive sound of blue moon jazz cruised on the air.
Crushing her mouth, he hauled her closer. Finally. All the way...pressed against him, from neck to knee and every place in between. His body was hot and hard, lean and fit. She moaned as his erection pushed against her belly, her hips instinctively arching to meet him.
Anticipation was pale comparison to the real deal and her body quivered, her heart catapulted against her ribs. She’d wanted more than a kiss with Leo, had imagined how it would feel but hadn’t imagined it would ever be this intense. This raw, primitive need for him that transcended anything she’d ever felt before.
Releasing her, he drew back, watching her. He was breathing heavily, his eyes molten, his lips glistening from their assault on hers. ‘I want you. In the daylight. No adornments, no frills. Just you.’
‘Ever see me wearing a frill?’ She had an insane desire to laugh but she couldn’t seem to raise her voice above a murmur.
Humour glinted in his eyes. ‘Good point.’ His voice, however, was rough velvet and confident when he promised, ‘I’m going to make you come.’
A glorious fist of desire slammed against her middle. Thank the Lord.
The backs of his fingers trailed shivers down her bare arm. ‘I’m going to watch you while you do.’
Damp heat spurted low in her belly and she felt her tangerine lace panties grow damp. ‘Yes.’
‘As you already know, I’m a man who likes to take his time, so we could be here a while.’
No problem at all. But she felt obliged to remind him. ‘Your dinner appointment?’
He walked to the non-alcoholic bar in the corner, picked up a stool. ‘I’ve rescheduled.’ Setting it in front of her, he sat down, hands on his thighs, fingers splayed, his gaze sending sparks all down her body. ‘Wet road, poor visibility. It’s a supper meeting now.’
‘Ah...’
He’d rescheduled for her—for both of them—as she’d expected he would. But this man caressing her up and down with hot eyes and taking his time... She felt almost gauche and inexperienced, which was amazing and odd since she was always an eager and equal participant in her sexual encounters.
This was new. She licked her lips, tasted him. Couldn’t stand the tension a second longer. ‘So, are we going to get on with it?’
His eyes sparked with heat as he gestured with a jerk of his chin. ‘Get rid of the dress.’
‘You don’t want to do it yourself?’
He shifted his position, spreading his thighs a little. ‘I’d prefer to watch.’
Satisfied with that response, she smiled, untied the halter neck and let it shimmer down her body.
Fascination held Leo immobile as he watched the garment slide down, down, down. It caught for an instant on her breasts, then with a little wiggle it shimmied, light and shadow playing on its silky surface as it revealed the curve of her slender waist. A flat belly, then, to his surprise, a miniature strawberry stud twinkled at her navel. Something to talk about some other time.
Then those endlessly long legs he hadn’t been able to stop fantasising about. Damn shame he wouldn’t have time for the steamy spa she’d obviously planned for the two of them.
Like all women, he supposed she’d worn the sexy underwear for his pleasure. And he appreciated it. But it could only mean she’d thought about having sex with him. Not only thought about it—she’d anticipated it. Unless she always dressed prepared for a little seduction?
Either that or she’d known he’d come back... Something he hadn’t known himself until a short time ago. And in that time, she’d showered and changed—he’d smelled fresh soap on her skin and a spritz of her midnight temptation perfume. And her choice of dress was chosen expressly for slipping off. The knowledge disturbed him more than he was comfortable with.
Who was playing who?
He twirled a finger in the air. ‘Turn around.’ He had the upper hand, at least for now.
Arms outstretched, she pirouetted while he admired firm, round buttocks. His palms tingled—tempting little handfuls he was itching to familiarise himself with some more. Her lingerie choice came a distant second to all that pretty skin. ‘Nice colour,’ he told her. ‘Hot.’
‘Like a sunrise,’ she said with the confident smile that had no doubt seduced countless would-be lovers.
Seduced. ‘Come here,’ he demanded, absurdly annoyed with her self-assurance and his thoughts of her with other men. Annoyed, because jealous was not a word he associated with himself. Ever.
As she glided closer he wondered how long he could go without touching her.
He discovered the answer two quick heartbeats later when he slid his hands around her waist. He was right: her skin felt like warm silk and his fingers wandered up her ribcage, thumbs flicking over the underside of her breasts through her bra. Tight, wine-dark nipples pressed against the lace, temptingly erect
, tantalisingly close. His erection throbbed in time with his pulse and he was glad he was sitting down. He breathed deep and slow and dug down deep for that last remnant of control.
Her hands rose to cover his. ‘Let’s—’
‘Hands behind your neck. Clasped.’
She made a whimpering sound but did as instructed, which pushed her breasts closer, an irresistible provocation.
Pulling her to him, he closed his mouth around one nipple and sucked her through the lace, drawing the tight bullet into his mouth while he manipulated and drew out the other between thumb and forefinger.
And in those few stuttering heartbeats, nothing but naked skin would suffice. He leaned back to look at her, more than satisfied with the view. Desire and desperation in her eyes, cheeks flushed with arousal, lips parted. Hands still clasped behind her head.
Satisfied? Leo choked back a laugh. Hell, he wasn’t nearly satisfied. His head spun with her scent, her taste and every part of his body screamed for more. For all.
Not yet.
He reached out to touch again and his infamous control slipped a notch. More. To hell with it. One swift tug and her panties were gone, rent in two and tossed over his shoulder. He glimpsed the shock in her eyes but he was already grasping that final flimsy barrier in his fist.
Brie gasped as the last of her clothing was shredded and flung who knew where. Not in fear, not in fury or indignation, but with rising excitement. His gaze swept over her naked body, raising goosebumps upon goosebumps. Dizzy with desire, she swayed towards him, quivering, shivering, craving more.
He slammed both thighs with his fists. ‘Come here.’
Yes. She didn’t need to be told twice. Brie watched his eyes turn smoky as she straddled him, opened her most intimate self to his smouldering silver gaze, her limp arms all but collapsing onto his shoulders.
His hard masculine hand moved down between them. Biting down on her lower lip, she arched upwards, the ache, the tension in her lower belly almost unbearable. Leo. ‘Touch me.’ The words hissed out between clenched teeth.
He stroked her once, fingers gliding like silk over her moist centre, their gazes fused as he watched her gasp and shudder and moan at that first startling contact. Her attention drifted to where his fingers stroked, slow and steady, again and again. She could only whimper. The man rendered her incapable of speech, incapable of coherent thought.
But she could feel that slow slide to paradise. Oh, how she could feel. Sensation building on glorious sensation. What Leo was doing to her went way beyond her wildest experience—and she’d had her share of wild experiences—yet paradoxically he was achieving it with his frustratingly leisurely patience. Barely touching her—as soothing and gentle as the misty rain on the other side of the windows.
She could smell the jasmine oil now, and magnificent man and her own arousal, could hear the fast thud of her heart, and, despite his keeping his movements slow, Leo’s quickened breathing. Then she heard him say, ‘Look at me.’
‘I am,’ she murmured, her gaze riveted by the impressive erection straining against his jeans. Oh, my. She couldn’t wait to wrap her hands around him but her own needs took precedence when he pushed a finger inside. She bit her lip and pleaded, ‘Hurry, hurry, hurry.’
He did not oblige. ‘No. Right now I want slow and wet and slippery. And I want to watch your eyes when I take you there so look at me.’
His words thrilled, excited, electrified. She lifted her gaze. His brow was dotted with sweat, his grim-mouthed expression telling her how much effort it was costing him to hold onto that control he seemed determined to maintain.
Mindless passion, a sweet lingering endurance. They watched each other as he took her higher, pressure building, slowly at first, then gaining momentum. Faster, faster on her own runaway sky rocket.
He sent her soaring to heaven before she could scream hallelujah.
It took a couple of stuttering heartbeats to reclaim some shred of sanity, her arms trembling, hands clutching his shoulders, his mohair jumper soft against her fingers. ‘You...’ she barely managed. ‘Inside.’
She heard the rasp of his zip, the rustle of foil as he protected them both and still his eyes didn’t leave hers. It was as if some force had brought them together and refused to let go.
He drove himself home in one fierce thrust, the force expelling what little breath was left in her body. She raised her hands to shoulder height, palms facing forward, and exhilarated in the power she felt in the fingers that linked with hers. Murmured his name as they rocked together towards that final glorious peak.
She felt his release deep inside, her internal muscles rippling around him in response as she climaxed a second time. On a shuddering groan, he threw back his head, exposing the strong masculine curve of jaw and stubbled chin.
Spent, she collapsed over him with a satisfied moan. Finally, a man with the determined will to rival hers in the bedroom—or wherever else they chose to do it. Until Leo had come into her life, she’d not realised this sexual power-play with a worthy opponent was what she’d missed in a lover.
Not just sex, a tiny voice whispered. Something deeper.
Wasn’t going to happen.
She caught sight of her ruined bra floating in the spa and clutched at the distraction like a woman drowning. ‘No appreciation for sexy underwear?’ she murmured.
‘Not so much as for what lies beneath it.’
His answer was just what she needed, keeping her in the now. Sexy and casual—what they both wanted. She’d have grinned but her face felt numb. ‘That was my newest pièce de résistance.’
He pushed up, bringing her to her feet so suddenly she almost stumbled. ‘I’ll pay for the damages.’
‘Hey, I wasn’t complaining.’
‘Nevertheless. Bathroom?’ He was tucking himself away; his tone bordered on curt.
‘Door on the left.’ Brie pointed towards the far side of the pool. Was it her overactive hormones or was it the feeling that everything had just changed, making him seem remote and in a hurry to leave?
Her nakedness in contrast to his fully dressed state added to her intense feeling of vulnerability.
Of course he’d be in a hurry, she told herself, grabbing her dress and hauling it up her bare torso. He had a three-hour drive in slippery conditions. He’d be driving through dusk then full dark with heavy cloud and possible fog. The country roads would be horrendous if the rain started up again, as it threatened to.
He exited the bathroom looking casual and gorgeous and her heart did an unexpected somersault in her chest. She’d got what she’d wanted but she’d not factored in the serious cardio workout that had come with it.
She didn’t need cardio; she got that at the gym. Especially not with him. He was short-term, like her. They both understood that. ‘Are you sure it’s wise to travel tonight?’
‘You’d advise against it?’
‘Yes. You could—’
‘You think like a girl.’ He swiped his jacket up off the mat.
‘I think like someone who’s concerned about you.’
He looked genuinely surprised, eyes widening as they flicked to hers, fingers motionless for an instant on the soft leather. ‘Don’t be. I’ve been looking after myself since I was five years old.’ His lips quirked as he shrugged it on. ‘I’ve scored a suite in Heaven for tonight and I don’t intend to waste it.’
Focused on his six-star accommodation. Not a word about whether the earth had moved for him. No suggestion of when, or even if, they might do it again. After such an orgasmic interlude, for her at least, he made Brie feel more than a little idiotic.
And she was an idiot to make such a big deal of it. ‘Well, enjoy,’ she said, making herself smile and be her usual laid-back self. ‘I know I would.’
‘Hey, you’re in a good spot—what’s not to enjoy here?’
‘Absolutely. And I will.’ She’d make sure she did.
‘I’ll contact you.’
Ha. Of course he w
ould. She relaxed into her smile. ‘I’ll be here. Not that it matters where I am. The beauty of mobiles.’
‘Yeah.’ Quick flash of humour in his eyes. ‘Because I need your banking details for the rental payments.’
Oh. ‘Right. Fine.’
A small frown pinched his brow. ‘Problem?’
‘Not at all,’ she said, tightly. Angry. And doubly angry that she felt the absolute need to lie but in this instance her damaged pride and her rare attack of vulnerability demanded it.
‘Good, then.’ He flipped a hand. ‘Stay warm, I’ll see myself out.’ He turned, walked towards the main wing. ‘Catch you later.’
Not if she could help it. But even as she muttered, ‘Right,’ she knew that wasn’t true. Thin-lipped, she hugged her bare arms and watched him disappear, listened to his footsteps fade. ‘Damn you, Leo Hamilton. You made me lie.’
It didn’t matter, she reminded herself. He didn’t matter. It was just sex—spectacular, mind-blowing, earth-shattering sex. But that was all it was. Had been, she told herself, because there’d be no repeat performance.
Remember, Brie: No heart, no hurt.
EIGHT
Leo had more important things to think about. He repeated it over and over. More important things than the woman who’d stripped his mind clean of everything except having her again any which way he could. He crossed the Derwent Bridge for the second time in as many hours, relieved he had somewhere he needed to be and he needed to be there fast. Clients to impress, a reputation to uphold.
Business was his focus. His priority. His life. Never forget it.
His tyres sprayed water and brakes screeched as he hit them for a red light he’d not seen till the last second. Leo shook his head and glared at the wet road in front of him. See what happens when you allow yourself to be sidetracked by a woman?
No, sir. Not Leo Hamilton, happy-go-lucky bachelor. He had enough trouble handling his sister. Safest to keep relationships with the opposite sex simple, easy, uncomplicated.
