by Lynn Cooper
He smiled his satisfaction against Lacey’s silky, sweet-smelling hair. She was naked and nestled into the crook of his arm with her head resting on his chest. Lazily, he reached over and used his open palm in a back and forth motion to graze the tips of her distended nipples until she was panting for him. She lifted her face for a kiss, and he happily obliged. He ran his tongue over her lower lip before pushing it inside for a deeper, more sensual exploration.
Lacey moaned into his mouth, and he could see and feel the covers tenting as she bent her knees. He watched with pure animal lust while the blankets floated back into place. He knew she had let her knees fall apart. Her legs were spread wide in a silent invitation. One he planned to accept soon. But first, they needed to talk.
Raising up on one elbow, he gazed at her lovely face still flushed from their shower. Her big beautiful brown eyes glazed with the same desire that was thrumming through his veins. Her lips were rosy and swollen from his kisses. Her neck and breasts were marked with hickeys from his overzealous suckling. If her earlier writhing, sighing and moaning were any indication, she hadn’t minded it one bit.
She offered him a smile that was even sweeter than her apple pies. “What are thinking about, Chance?”
He rubbed his hand across his freshly-shaven face. “Oh, lots of things.”
“Like what?”
“Like how sexy you are. How good you and this bed feel. How I want to make you as happy as I am right now. I mean it, Lacey. I want to make all of your dreams come true.”
“That’s awfully sweet. But I really only have one dream.”
“Tell me, angel.”
“Promise not to laugh.”
“I swear on my life.”
“Okay,” she said, sighing. “I want to own my own bakery. I want to make apple pies and all sorts of sweets every day for the rest of my days. Do you think that’s silly?”
“No,” he said, reaching beneath the covers to stroke her inner thighs. He had been right. Her legs were spread wide. “I think it’s perfect. Tomorrow we’ll go find the best building for your bakery.”
Her eyes widened, and he knew it wasn’t because he had cupped her mound and was rhythmically squeezing it.
Her voice was soft and breathy. “Chance, there’s no point in looking. Neither of us could afford a lease. No offense, but you’re homeless, and I’m a fresh-out-of-work waitress.”
His eyes sparkled. “I’m not suggesting we rent a space,” he said, slipping a finger between the flowering folds of her dripping-wet sex. “We’ll buy one.”
She rolled her eyes. “I fear our lovemaking has clouded your mind or else you’ve had a stroke. Banks do not make loans to unemployed people who have no collateral.”
Slowly sliding his finger up her slit, he lazily circled her clit, pulling sweet littles cries of pleasure from her cute, pouty mouth. “We don’t need a loan. When you find the building you want, the sweetest spot for your bakery, we’ll buy it outright.”
Lacey slapped his hand away and bolted up to a seated position. Her voice was edgy and angry. “I don’t know what sort of callous, shitty game you’re playing here, Chance. But I do not appreciate it one damn bit. How could you so nonchalantly poke fun at my dream?” She folded her arms over her chest. “God! I never should have told you. I think you better leave.”
Chance hung his head. He shouldn’t have strung her along that long. But he was so fucking excited to finally have a reason to live again and over-the-moon happy to have someone to share his resources with.
He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Just hear me out, okay? Afterwards, if you still want to me to leave, then I’ll go.”
She took a deep breath. “Fine! But make it quick. I have to get up early in the morning and look for work. Something you might want to try.”
Her words stung, but he understood she was lashing out in pain. Her feelings were hurt. She thought he was making light of something important that she had confided in him. But nothing could be farther from the truth.
“When Charlotte and I were little kids, we lost our parents to a tragic boating accident. We were raised by our grandparents until they died. By then, we were old enough to take care of ourselves.”
Lacey gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry that happened to ya’ll, but what does it have to do with you acting like a jackass?”
“I’m getting to that.”
“Good, because I’m getting madder by the minute.”
“I know. Anyway, dying so young, they didn’t have life insurance policies. When Charlotte and I graduated college, we decided it would be a good idea to get one on each of us. She was the beneficiary on mine, and I was the beneficiary on hers. See?”
“No. I do not see.”
“My policy lapsed when I went to prison, but it didn’t matter much since Charlotte was already dead.”
He saw a lightbulb flash in Lacey’s eyes. “But her policy was in effect when she died, and you got the money.”
“Her policy was worth two-hundred twenty-five thousand dollars with an accidental-death rider. Since she died in a car wreck, the amount doubled. All of it is still sitting in the bank in my checking account. It’s been there drawing interest for the last five years.”
Chance wasn’t sure exactly what Lacey’s reaction to the news would be, but he wasn’t expecting a slap across the face.
“I guess that means you still want me to leave,” he said, gingerly rubbing his stinging flesh.
“Not until you tell me why.”
“Why what?”
“Why the hell you’ve been living like an animal on the streets. Sleeping under a filthy train trestle in dangerous conditions when you have more money in the bank than most people ever see in a lifetime. That’s just crazy. You’re crazy!”
“My reasoning was simple. I saw it as blood money. I blamed myself for Charlotte’s death. I didn’t think I deserved to live, much less high on the hog at the expense of my sister’s life. If you could believe me capable of doing that, then you’re the one who’s bat-shit crazy!”
“Okay, that part’s understandable. Your lack of self-worth and feelings of deserving nothing from a roof over your head, to a slice of apple pie, to making love with me has been well documented. But I’m not sure I can understand you not helping the others. You have lived with homeless people for five years. You watched your street family go hungry and thirsty. You saw them shivering under cardboard and old newspapers. You knew they needed things you could provide, and yet you did nothing. In my book, that’s inexcusable. Unforgivable even. I can’t wait to see how you explain it away.”
He held up his hands. “You’ll have a fucking long-ass wait because I have no excuse or defense. All I can tell you is, until I saw you at Eva’s, I was a dead man walking. I had spent five years in a maximum security prison. My original fifteen-year sentence was commuted when an associate of Charlotte’s attacker got a case of guilty conscience on his death bed. He came forward and spilled his guts, revealing the names of other rape victims. So the penal system turned me—a beat-down, caged animal—loose to prowl about in an asphalt jungle. Existing and surviving for a decade under those conditions does something really bad to a man, angel.”
Talking openly about prison made him feel antsy and restless. He couldn’t stand still any longer. Turning away from the judgement he saw and felt in Lacey’s beautiful eyes, he paced back and forth. Moving around gave him the strength keep talking. He had to try and make her understand.
“I couldn’t help myself much less anyone else. Hell, there were times when I lost touch with reality. When I wasn’t even sure the money was there at all. I was too weak or scared or beat down to check on it. When you showed up at the trestle with those pies the first time, and I got a glimpse of what life might be like with a woman like you, I called my lawyer. He confirmed the money was in my account.”
“So you knew you had enough money to buy fifty bakeries when we were making out in the middle of a bullet storm this af
ternoon? You knew it when we were parked in front of my tiny, rundown apartment, talking in my piece-of-shit car? Knew it while you were licking my pussy clean in the shower? While you were fondling it just now?”
“Yes.”
She got up from the bed and stomped her foot. “And you didn’t think it might be a good idea to share this information with me right away, instead of letting me feel sorry for you? Did you get off on me begging you to come inside my apartment? Or was it having me wash five years’ worth of your grime down my shower drain that got you going? Or, maybe it was having a chubby girl declare her love for you and throw herself shamelessly at you when you knew all along you had enough money and good looks to have any woman the world.”
As he had at the trestle, Chance grabbed her wrists roughly. Only this time he wasn’t careful. He intentionally squeezed too tightly. He wanted to hurt her like she was hurting him right now. Her words scraped across his heart like a serrated blade, and he was bleeding badly.
“I didn’t withhold the information about my finances to get any jollies at your expense, Lacey. I just wanted the opportunity to get my head on straight. To buy a house. To court you properly. To be the kind of man you deserve. The kind of man you might want to marry. But before I had time to do any of that, you came flying up in that back-firing rattletrap of yours, stirring up trouble. And here we are.”
LACEY WAS STUNNED. SHE had spent the last week reconciling herself to the fact that she was in love with a poor, homeless ex-con. Now he tells her he’s wealthy and offers to buy her a bakery, making her lifelong dream come true. For the icing on the cake, he wants to be the kind of man she would want to marry.
While she was wrapping her head around all of it and trying not to get whiplash, she watched him pick up his filthy, tattered clothes. Just as he was stepping into his threadbare jeans, she said, “Before we go looking for a building to put our bakery in, we best buy you some new clothes.”
He dropped the pants and gave her a panty-melting smile. “Our bakery?”
“Sure. I thought maybe we could be business partners.”
He nodded and raised an eyebrow as if seriously considering it. “I suppose it’s about time I put my master’s degree in accounting to use.”
She clapped in her hands in excitement. “I was wondering what you’d gone to college for. It seems downright kismet to me. You have a head for numbers, and I have a head for flour, sugar and butter. What a team! We’re sure to be a raging success.”
He scooped her up and carried her to the bed. Laying her gently across it, he said, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the money. I wasn’t hiding it from you. I swear. I was trying to do the right thing by you. I love you, Lacey.”
“I know. I love you, too.”
She pulled his head to her breast and opened her legs as she had moments ago. This time he didn’t tease her feminine folds with his fingers. Instead, he latched his hungry mouth around her nipple—a highly sensitive pebbled bud of sensation—and firmly nudged the entrance to her pussy with the head of his dick. She moaned aloud her need, and he answered it with a growl. God he was always growling. And growling was good. Really good. But, the intimate merging of their bodies and souls would be even better.
Chance touched her everywhere. Licking and kissing a trail of fire across her skin, making her gasp with every flick of his tongue. Lacey had waited so long to feel him inside her. She was overcome with excitement and expectation as every move he made was bringing both of them closer to what they wanted most.
She trembled when he took his manhood in hand and sensuously slid it up and down the length of her slit. She was wet and slippery and eager. He stroked her clit with his hardness until she feared she might go insane from the pleasure. Weaving her fingers into his unruly hair, she moaned while he worked his magic on her.
Chance seduced her with his mouth as he pushed himself into the tight, welcoming depths of her womanhood. His breathing was ragged with exertion. Lacey made a few futile attempts to calm her own breathing, but it was no use. The sensations he provoked infused her entire body, rocking her just as deep and hard as his hips were. Her heart raced, and her pulse pounded like the beat of an exotic drum, keeping rhythm with the hammering of his thrusts.
Anchoring herself, she dug her fingers into his shoulders. His mouth settled over hers before she could cry out. He claimed her lips, using his tongue to duplicate the hypnotizing motion of his pelvis. Driven by the madness of desire, he devoured her with every inch of his body. Possessing her, branding her, staking his claim now and always.
Lacey was in awe of his arousal, his strength and masculine prowess. She succumbed to the pure pleasure he was providing. The sexual tension was thick enough to slice, leaving them both trembling, speechless and breathless. The melding of their flesh was aggressive and fierce as they strained toward that ultimate release. A fulfillment and satisfaction that could only be found in each other’s arms.
Lacey was on the edge of an elusive, earth-shattering surrender, straining toward heaven and fearing she would never get there. Chance slammed into her over and over. Every muscle in his powerful body willing her to come. Altering the angle and depth of his penetration, he whispered in a husky voice strained with the final remnants of his control, “Don’t fight it, angel. Just let go.”
Overwhelming showers of sensation sparked and ignited her insides. She shuddered, unraveled at the seams and fell apart beneath his loving gaze. He offered her the sweetest smile she had ever seen before gripping her hips hard. He drove himself into her at a desperate, frenzied pace, launching her into another orbit of unchartered ecstasy. An orgasmic explosion made complete by his own bone-liquefying release. Chance filled her with hot, thick jets of semen. A life-giving force to bind them for all eternity. Collapsing beside her, he pulled her close and whispered sweet promises of forever.
EPILOGUE
THE TASTY TRESTLE BAKERY had been in business for six months, and it was booming. In fact, the line that had formed at the counter went out the door and wrapped around the block. Lacey got goosebumps when her husband stepped up behind her and whispered in her ear, “I don’t suppose any of these people are paying customers, are they?”
Lacey and Chance had combined the ribbon- cutting ceremony for the bakery with a small, lovely and informal wedding where they exchanged vows and simple yet elegant gold bands. The rings were only a symbol. It was the intensity of their love that bound them together.
She smiled proudly. “Nope. Not a single one.”
The bakery was open seven days a week, and apple pie was always free to those who couldn’t afford it.
“Good,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “My sister would like what we’re doing here.”
“I’m betting she would love it just as she loved you.”
“And I have no doubt that Charlotte would have adored you, my sweet angel.”
Lacey looked around the bakery with a heart full of gratitude. Years ago, when she had envisioned owning a bakery, she saw herself turning pastries into lots and lots of money, getting rich strictly in a financial sense. She liked this new dream much better.
Now, she baked for the pleasure of feeding those who were hungry. She turned pastries into love offerings that resulted in full bellies, not full bank accounts. She was far richer this day than she had ever thought possible.
For those from the train trestle who were able and willing to work, Lacey and Chance employed them. The professor entertained the customers atop a small stage in the center of the bakery where he did dramatic readings from Shakespeare’s play, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. His performances were well received and met with applause on a daily basis.
When he was on stage, the years seemed to fall away from his face, and his eyes gleamed bright behind the new glasses he had purchased with his earnings.
Lacey leaned back into Chance’s embrace. He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck. It was a good thing that neither of them were embarrassed by
public displays of affection.
Just as she turned to ask him a question, Loopy came bounding out of the kitchen. He had proved to be an excellent dishwasher. A smile broke across the young man’s face as he chanted, “Chance got happy. Chance got happy. He loves Lacey. She bakes pies.”
Lacey’s heart swelled with joy. Chance truly did look happy, and so was she. Happier than she ever dreamed.
OTHER BOOKS BY LYNN COOPER
A Perfect Match
Jaslyn Scarpa is chronically cheerful. She believes in hope and happiness and brighter tomorrows. Along with being a talented, versatile, hardworking temp, Jaslyn is also a self-proclaimed “grouch whisperer.” Winning over the grumpy people in this world is her forté. Or, at least, she thinks it is until she meets the tall, dark—so dangerously dark—moody and sexy Rhein Birkner. The excruciating emotional pain reflected in his intensely piercing eyes tears at her heart. No matter how volatile he is, she makes it her mission to turn his hurt into joy.
Rhein Birkner is a ruthless businessman, notorious for hostile takeovers and forced mergers. He has a hard exterior, a powerful, domineering façade he presents to the world. But on the inside, he is a little boy who’s terrified of losing the woman who means everything to him. No amount of money can buy what she needs most. While he tries to figure out a way to save her, he is forced to contend with an infuriatingly sunshiny temp. Jaslyn Scarpa is outspoken, bubbly and unbelievably beautiful. She is the last thing Rhein wants at the moment. Ironically, she might also be the key to his happiness.
A Perfect Match is part of the Raining Romance Series. Each book is a standalone where unexpected storms of passion rage and love strikes faster than lightning.
Taking the Mobster’s Woman
In this fast-paced, heart-pumping tale of danger, love and lust, Dante Roman—an undercover FBI agent—finds himself in a surprising, perilous and sensuously-charged predicament. After two-and-a-half years of deep undercover work, he is only one week away from the biggest mafia takedown in history. The last thing he needs is the leggy, blond bombshell, Diamond Cross, distracting him.
