Wilde Magic (Wilde Women Book 3)
Page 22
Keeping one hand protectively at the base of her bump, he sent the other under the towel in search of other delights and wasn’t disappointed. Already wet with desire, he played with her pussy, pulling on the curls of blonde hair, teasing her lips open and tracing a fingertip lightly along her slit—front to back.
He tossed the towel on the floor, slid his hands under her butt so he could reposition their sprawl by spreading her legs and draping them over his jean covered thighs. She was open, accessible and moaning like crazy.
Brynn stretched up and wrapped her hands around his neck. He leaned in and bit her under her ear as a reward. He liked this position. Her tits were right there—easy to fondle, and with her legs out of the way he could touch her the way she liked.
First, he kneaded and massaged her beautiful breasts. The longer he stayed away from her pussy, the more desperate she became. Leaving her open and exposed added an element of erotic anticipation that drove his woman wild.
Wild. He snickered at the play on words. She was his wild woman in more ways than one.
“Still feel moody?” he asked.
Her answer was a grunt and a wanton undulation that almost made him lose it. She was ready.
Both hands reached between her legs. She hissed with excitement. He growled his pleasure close to her ear. He knew her body so well, had memorized every millimeter that even from behind and without a view of what he was doing, Jax caressed her with unerring accuracy.
Spreading her pussy lips with one hand, he zeroed in on her pretty clit with the other and teased the hard little nub with the tip of a finger. Instantly, Brynn melted against him, whimpered and shook all over.
Next to being inside her and maybe her lips on his cock, his favorite thing was fingering his sexy as fuck baker. He did it with persistent regularity too. Like when they were out to dinner. That was always fun. Feeling her pussy clench and tighten around his finger when they were in public. Or driving in his truck. Pulling her panties aside and pumping her wet passage until she fell to pieces. Shit. He’d fingered her to a thundering orgasm at the movies and almost gotten caught in the act.
It was that time at her parents’ house though that stuck in his mind. She’d dragged him into her father’s library, shoved him into a wing chair, stood with her legs straddling his thighs and pushed his eager hand into her panties. That time, he’d sat back and watched her face as he furiously teased her. She was magnificent in her passion. Grinding against his hand, begging for more until she shattered in a rush of scalding hot wetness. He’d been astonished and very, very turned on when her lusty essence covered them both. Cleaning up after had been a bit of a challenge but they managed. Somehow. And then on the ride home, he pulled over into a rest stop along the turnpike and fucked her like a madman.
Always after these randy encounters, she managed to look innocent and ladylike. He fucking loved it.
“Jax,” she cried in a husky, over-excited voice.
“Shh, baby. I know what you need.” He tapped out I love you in Morse code on her turgid nub. He felt heat surge from her center. “One finger or two?” he asked.
“Two.”
She was so wet that swirling two fingers in and out of her pussy was mesmerizing. Swollen, hot and out of control, Brynn tried to buck her hips, but he answered by spreading his thighs wider and opening her even more to his insistent fingers.
“Oh, yeah,” Jax groaned. “That’s my baby. Fucking daddy’s fingers so good. Listen,” he grunted. Slowly pumping, he went deep, rubbed her clit with his thumb, then pulled his fingers out, only to sink them deep again as the sound of her dripping pussy brought groans from both of them.
Her arms tightened around his neck. Her inner muscles clenched his marauding fingers. She was whimpering and quivering. Watching Brynn come was his other favorite thing. He kept stroking her deep. Each squishy sound was answered by a grunt or a groan. She was so close.
“Come for me, woman. Coat my fingers with your pleasure.”
He ruthlessly massaged a spot inside Brynn that made her gush when she came. Jax loved when he made her do it. Knowing her body completely surrendered to the pleasure was where he found his. It wasn’t always about making love. Or fucking. They did both really well. Sometimes it was enough to master her senses.
She went off like a firecracker. Crying out, she tightened and shook before a wild explosion ripped though her and as predicted, a torrent of fluid drenched the bed beneath them. Jax sank his teeth into her neck and fingered her till the contractions wracking her pussy calmed.
She was limp against him, her arms flopping down as she rode the last rolling waves of a powerful orgasm.
“Feel better?” he murmured in her ear.
A moment passed. He lowered his thighs so she could close her legs. It seemed the least he could do. The second she had any sort of control; she flipped around in his arms, pushed him flat on the bed and tore open his pants. Pushing his jeans down his legs and out of the way, she released his stiff cock.
“I will in a minute,” she ground out. Throwing a leg over his torso, she straddled him, grabbed hold of his hard-on and aimed it at her pussy. She took him slowly, centimeter-by-centimeter, until he was buried balls deep in luscious heat.
“Oh God, Brynn. Fuck me, baby.” He pleaded.
She grabbed hold of his head, looked him straight in the eye. Did a bump, grind and shimmy on his throbbing cock and said, “Yes, daddy.”
He couldn’t remember what happened after, except that she drove him to the brink of insanity with her wild thrusts and husky cries. She came again. Twice. That, he did remember. When it was over and his bellowing wails as he emptied inside her quieted, she collapsed on his chest with him still deep inside her lush body.
“I love daddy’s cock,” she whispered.
“Daddy’s cock loves your pussy, baby.”
He felt her smile against his neck and seconds later she went heavy. Brynn fell asleep on top of him. He palmed her ass. It just didn’t get better than this.
“THIS PLACE HASN’T CHANGED MUCH,” Rhi quipped. “Brynn says that with Jax moved into the main house, they use the garage as a sort of office for him and his crew.”
Charlie looked around and smiled. With her feet resting on the coffee table and a humongous mug of hot chocolate warming her hands, she took in the converted garage that she’d helped decorate a long ago time.
“It’s so cool how Brynn made this place her own.” She sighed and smiled at Rhi. “Not easy to do. Living in Nana’s shadow can’t be easy.”
“Word,” Rhi snickered.
“To your mother,” Charlie quipped in return.
They cracked up laughing. Curled at either end of the sofa, Charlie sipped her cocoa and carefully considered her sister. Something wasn’t quite right. She could feel it.
“You’re putting off a strange vibe, Rhi. Wanna talk about it?”
“Not especially but I know you won’t let it go, so …” Rhi’s shrug wasn’t so much indifference as defeat. She knew their sister’s bond wouldn’t allow Charlie to ignore the obvious. “And besides, I’ve already said this to Brynn so telling you seems natural.”
“We don’t judge, sis.”
“Good. Okay. Here it is.”
Charlie always thought Rhiann was perfectly placed as the middle sister. While she and Brynn got the fair coloring DNA in the family gene pool, pretty Rhi stood out with her beautiful brown hair and model physique. It hadn’t come as any sort of a surprise when she went off to the big city in search of a career in fashion. And Rhiann was certainly successful. Everyone said so, but she also wasn’t a happy camper and Charlie couldn’t have that.
“I think New York City has reached its expiration date.”
Oh. Oh my. Oh my God. What? Cautiously, she asked, “Does that mean you’re not going to uh, renew? Are you talking like, time’s up? Or is it more that you need a break from the rat race?”
“Time’s up.” The reply was instant, sharp and without any waffl
ing that Charlie could see.
She knew what question was just begging to be asked so she went for it. “Does Liam Ashforth have anything to do with this?”
Seeing Rhiann squirm set off alarms. It was so unlike her sister to show any weakness. Having a convo with Brynn about kicking Ashforth’s ass might be in order.
“No. And yes.”
Hmph. Curious way to phrase an answer. There were clues in Rhi’s response.
“So … um.” Charlie collected her thoughts before saying anything else. “You’re saying being a fashionista know-it-all in the Big Apple lost its shine before your old lover resurfaced?”
“Oh for God’s sake,” Rhiann blurted out. “Why does everyone assume we were lovers?”
Okay. Now that was funny. Not a lot of things rattled Rhi’s cage. Sure did look like Liam Ashforth was a guaranteed rattler. Well, I’ll be damned, Charlie thought. What weird synergy was at work that all three sisters were having their lives turned upside down and sideways by a man?
“Well, for starters,” she chuckled. “I was what? Fourteen, fifteen that summer Liam burst into our lives? Those were my boy crazy years. Me and Patty Winslow spent many a drool covered summer night mooning over Liam. He was so different. All that buttoned up and proper bullshit. And sis, we saw stuff. Had to be blind not to.”
“What does that mean?” Rhi sniffed. “You saw stuff. What stuff?”
Ha! Caught. Poor Rhiann. How would she react to realizing her little secret wasn’t all that secret? Or little.
“Ah, so you want proof, huh?” She liked teasing Rhi. As the youngest, Charlie didn’t get all that many chances to get one over on either of her sisters. “Easy, although you aren’t gonna like what you hear.”
Rhiann pushed a long tumble of hair behind her shoulders and crossed her arms. “I’m listening.”
She laughed, how could she not? “Football game at my high school. Homecoming. Dad invited Liam. The way I remember it, he dragged the poor guy everywhere. Anyway, we were all in the parking lot after the game when Mom freaked cause she left her Nittany Lions seat cushion behind. Me and Patty went to have a look—see if we could rescue it.” Charlie smirk-shrugged. “Know what we found?”
Rhiann rolled her eyes.
“Found you and Ashforth in quite a clinch. Hiding in the shadows, but we saw you. Let me set the stage,” she taunted. “You had your legs around his waist. He was giving you a throat exam and by the looks of things a breast exam too. Want me to continue?”
“Fuck. No.”
“Relax. It wasn’t that big a deal. Anyone with eyes and a brain knew that you two were hot for each other. Everyone’s entitled to privacy. I just figured he was a dick or something when you shut down later on. Between you and Brynn with her loveless marriage, it’s a wonder I didn’t go straight to the convent.”
“As if!” Rhiann shrieked with laughter. “And don’t play all innocent with me, you little twerp. Hold on,” she yelped and scrambled off the sofa. Returning with her purse, some enormous thing that needed a damn zip code it was so big, Charlie watched her sister fish around and then withdraw something.
“Fuck my life,” she groaned when a damn postcard she sent her sister was waved in the air.
Clearing her throat for dramatic license, Rhiann stood over her and held up the card as if she was reading the Gettysburg Address.
“Touchdown. The fat lady has sung. Hell done froze over. New member and girls club hashtags.” Rhiann snickered. “Really, Charlize?”
Well damn. Hearing what she wrote struck her like the hammer of the gods. She squirmed uncomfortably. Hadn’t she damned Ty for his lame attempts to laugh off the stained sheets? Shit, shit, shit. She’d done the same damn thing by sending the obvious postcard to her sister. It wasn’t a sheet run up the flagpole, though—it was every easy reference she had at that moment to let Rhi know she’d surrendered her innocence.
“This is about that client, huh? The one who finagled your services for nefarious reasons? Was sleeping with him in the contract?”
Ouch. A direct hit. And an uncomfortable one. No use in denying it. What would be the point? “Yeah, well. I got what I deserved.”
“Warned you about those Italian men, sweets.”
Truth. Her entire family went ape-shit when she decided to up and move to Italy. Now, however, wasn’t the time to explain that her debauchment happened at the hands of a good ol boy from the suburbs of Virginia and not some slick, experienced Italian preying on innocent American girls.
“What’s done is done,” she assured her sister. “I’m over it. And unlike with Liam, my first mistake won’t be showing up unannounced later to screw with my life.”
“We are a pair,” Rhiann chuckled—flopping on the sofa and pulling Charlie into a bear hug. “I’m going to give you a pass on the details—only because we’re here to focus on Brynn and the wedding. But soon as she’s legally wed and the parents put away their shotguns, you, me and a bottle of wine. Okay?”
“Make it a dirty martini and I’m in.”
“Ah. So he’s a martini man, huh? Interesting. Very interesting.”
“Oh, bite me,” Charlie giggled.
Rhi’s phone started to buzz. “It’s Mom with a text. We’re going shopping tomorrow. With Nana. Early start. We have to be in Philly by ten.”
Charlie smiled. Oh lord. All of the Baron-Wilde women on a wedding-induced shopping spree with Bryanna Charles leading the charge. Yikes. She could smell the credit cards catching fire already!
“What’s on your agenda today? Please tell me you’re not working.”
Jax grinned at his lady love. It was super early and yet she was huddled over the kitchen table, scribbling away at what looked like several pages of lists. He’d come to like her list-making habit and used it humorously as often as he could. In fact, when she went into their en-suite later, she’d find a list he’d printed on the mirror above her sink. In bright red lipstick. Her lipstick. The sexy one called Voracious that he liked so much. Especially when it left ruby red smudges all over his dick. He’d left her a naughty list. Things he planned to do to her. And then taken a snap of it with his phone just so he could bring it up from time to time as they crossed things off. Good times.
“Nope. No work. Jonas has the business under control—so I’m all wedding all the time now, love.”
Brynn looked up and put her pen down at the same time. “We’re getting married.” He loved the way her wonder filled the simple statement with emotion.
“Yes, we are.” He went to her, leaned over and kissed his soon-to-be-wife’s soft lips. “Are you happy?”
“Ecstatic.”
“And the bump? How’s he-she doing this morning?”
The way she smiled into his searching eyes warmed his sometimes-tormented soul. This beautiful, amazing, sexy, generous, loving woman actually wanted to be his wife. Brynn Baron-Wilde was going to be Mrs. Jackson Merrill in no time at all. Maybe he should send a bottle of his mom’s favorite wine to his parents. Thank them again for being devious assholes and plotting with Brynn’s parents to get them together. Hmph. Yeah. Maybe a similar bottle for Darcy and Bob.
“The bump wants steak for dinner. Preferably bloody. And some of those cheesy biscuits from the bakery. Oh, and ice cream. Lots of ice cream. Vanilla with Hershey’s syrup poured on top.”
Glancing at the lists scattered on the table Jax shook his head and a corner of his mouth lifted. She was making wedding lists of course and another one that kept getting longer and longer with a running inventory of baby crap for the nursery.
“Is that your way of telling me I’m helming the grill tonight? You do realize don’t you that Caleb arrives today. He’s driving in from New York after lunch. I’ve promised to get him settled in the rental down by the river.”
“Oh shit. Your brother.” She smacked her forehead. “Duh. Pregnant blonde moment—a double whammy!”
Waggling his eyebrows and pretending to twirl an imaginary villain’s mustache,
he drawled, “I’ll double your whammy anytime.”
Brynn wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face as laughter ensued. “Is that some wham bam reference?”
“Yep, yep! And thank you, ma’am.”
She was laughing hysterically now. “I cannot believe we are going to be parents! Seriously, Jax. How the hell are we supposed to raise a kid the way we are?”
“Well you turned out all right,” he quipped. With a finger under her chin, he raised her face so he could get lost in her eyes. “And I’m okay except for the dents and dings and the PTSD and the, well… you know. Anyway, babe. We’re okay and we came from some seriously inappropriate-loving families. Have you met your parents?”
Brynn chortled and stuck her tongue out. “I don’t know what you mean. My mother is a god damn saint and my father a prince among men.”
“I could say the same,” he chuckled. “But that doesn’t mean the Merrills and the Wildes aren’t bumping uglies. Even at their advanced ages.”
“Advanced ages my ass,” she cried. “And bumping uglies? What the hell husband-to-be. You listening to Stern in the morning again?”
“Nah, but I’m serious, honey. We’re gonna be great parents and if our folks are any sort of signpost for what’s down the road, our bedroom activities certainly won’t suffer from parenthood.”
“Oh God. I hear that tone,” she said with a starchy uptight hilarious sniff. “What are you keeping from me? What do you know Jackson Merrill?”
Jax pulled her up from the chair and plastered their bodies together in a fearsome embrace.
“When we went to Penn State and spent the weekend with your folks?”
“Yeah …” She sounded unsure and hesitant. He was dying with laughter inside.
“I stumbled upon Professor Wilde instructing a very naughty sounding Darcy Wilde how to, and I quote, ‘hold the edges of the table’ as he bent your mom over and went for his zipper.”
“What? You’re joking, right?”
“Uh, nope. In the library. After everyone went to bed. The bump wanted chocolate milk so I went to raid the kitchen, remember? Heard a noise down the hallway and went to investigate.”