What Belongs to Her (Harlequin Superromance)

by Rachel Brimble

  She eased him backward until his butt hit something solid. Her black eyes roamed over his face, his shoulders and the expanse of his chest until he felt about seven feet tall. Pure hunger glinted in the dark depths of her gaze. He’d never seen a woman look more beautiful or sexy in his damn life.

  “Christ, who are you?” The question slipped from between his clenched teeth, and he gripped the counter, lest he lunge for her and devour every inch of her golden skin.

  She smiled and released her belt buckle and the buttons on her jeans. “I’m the woman you’re going to make love to. Right here, right now.”

  With his gaze locked on hers, he followed suit. She kicked off her shoes and he toed off his boots. Their jeans simultaneously fell to the tiled kitchen floor. Dragging his gaze from hers, he took in the sight of her.

  Her panties were little more than a scrap of satin. Pink with black polka dots and cut high on her petite hips. His mouth went dry. He couldn’t wait any longer. He had to give her pleasure; had to know her inside and out. He reached for her and smoothed his hands to her waist, kissing her forehead, her nose, her cheeks and finally her lips. Her face was hot, her body even more so.

  He lifted her into his arms and she locked her legs around his waist, her mouth dropping to his neck and shoulders as he carried her across the room to the counter. He eased her onto the surface and stepped between her legs—at last, he allowed himself to feel her breasts. With his mouth still on hers, he slowly pulled one cup away from her breast and thumbed the hard pebble of her nipple, their tongues fighting for supremacy.

  Pulling back, he had to see her, had to be sure this was what she wanted. She leaned back on her hands wantonly and watched him from beneath heavy lids. The desire in her gaze was all the permission he needed.

  “You are...” He shook his head and leaned down to take her coffee-colored nipple into his mouth.

  She groaned above him, her legs sliding farther apart as her fingers wove into his hair. He sucked and fed as his cock ached with need. The euphoria of being with her this way drove him nearly mad with desire.

  “Touch me, John.”

  He lifted his head and stared deep into her eyes. Passion and yearning shone back at him as she exhaled against his face, soft and sexy. Unable to take his eyes off her, he slid his hand across her thighs and down behind her knees. He jerked her closer. Her gasp ignited a burst of male pride and he grinned, scoring his fingers to her hip. He gripped the string of her panties and snapped them off, tossing them behind him in one fluid motion.

  Another gasp.

  Then she smiled so widely, his heart damn near left his chest.

  She reached for his face and held his jaw, plunging her tongue deep into his mouth. His fingers moved down her body, inching toward her most intimate place. When he reached it, she was hot, wet and ready. John pressed his thumb firmly against her clitoris.

  “Oh, God. Yes.” She pulled her mouth from his and closed her eyes. She dropped her head back.

  John savored the look of her throat as the skin shifted and jerked. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as he massaged her and coaxed her forward to slide his fingers inside. God, he had to have her. He couldn’t wait. As if reading his thoughts, she snapped open her eyes. “I need my bag.” She groaned and writhed against his hand, her breaths short. “It’s in the office.”

  He swallowed. How had he not thought of protection? He squeezed his eyes shut. “I forgot.” He eased his fingers from inside her and dropped his forehead to hers.

  She laughed. “So did I. It doesn’t matter. What matters is which of us is going to go out and get it.”

  He lifted his head. Her eyes twinkled and her mouth was stretched into a grin. He smiled. “I guess that would be me then.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Bugger.”

  She gave him a little shove. “Be quick.”

  He snatched up his boxers and, using them to cover his manhood, strode toward the door. He unlocked it and peered into the office. Not a sound came from within and he made a mad dash for Sasha’s bag, slung over the back of her chair. Gripping it tightly, his entire body humming with tension and sexual need, he ran back into the kitchen. Relocking the door, he turned and froze. She’d removed her bra and now sat naked and wanting on the countertop. He drew in a breath. God, he didn’t know if he deserved to make love to a woman so stunningly beautiful, but he had to. If Sasha wanted him, he’d take her.

  She held out her hand. “Give it to me.”

  Relief shuddered through him that the moment apart hadn’t brought her to her senses; he didn’t know how he’d walk away now. As she opened the bag, he eased her legs apart and stood between them once more. He softly caressed her shoulders and upper arms as she fumbled in her bag. After far too long a moment, she produced a silver packet.

  “Yes.” She whispered and tore it open.

  She kissed him, her tongue urgently seeking his. He met her need, his penis and balls aching with desire. She reached between them and slid her hand around his erection and moaned into his mouth. She massaged him, her fingers as smooth as silk, teasing as they inched lower to cup his balls. He slid his hands over her body and down between her legs. He pushed two fingers deep inside and she whimpered and trembled against him.

  They touched and caressed a little longer until they were back to the frenzied heat they’d basked in before. Reluctantly, he slid his fingers from her soft, sexy warmth and plucked the condom from her hand. He smoothed on the protection and met her eyes. All humor had vanished, leaving only pure need in its wake.

  Holding the back of her knees, John yanked her forward, and she opened her legs wide. He guided himself inside her, and her breath left her lungs on a rush of warm air against his ear. She clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders. He thrust deep and groaned aloud as the sensation of finding the pleasure he sought crashed down around him.

  He held her tiny frame against his body and drove into her. She met him thrust for thrust. Her whispered whimpers and pleas fueled his passion as he waited for her to chase her climax first. His balls ached and his heart raced as he willed her on. Deeper and deeper, higher and higher they climbed until she stiffened in his arms. Satisfaction burst like a fireball in his chest and he leaned back to watch her climax. Her mouth dropped open and her cheeks flushed deep red as she stared blindly into his eyes.

  “God, Sasha.” He drove into her again.

  The world exploded as he came and, in that moment, John knew he’d never be the same again. He wanted this woman. He needed her. Wanted to make her happy. The problem was...would she ever feel the same way about him? About Kyle Jordon’s son?

  * * *

  SASHA STRUGGLED TO get her breathing back to normal. Her cheek lay on the hard ridge of his shoulder as he smoothed gentle circles over her spine. A stupid smile she couldn’t fight played at her lips as she listened to his heart slow from its rapid hammer to a steady, strong beat. She didn’t want to pull away, didn’t want to look in his eyes and see embarrassment, or worse, regret, lingering in their deep-blue depths.

  Any minute now he’d move. Any minute now Freddy could try the kitchen door and find it locked....

  She jerked up straight. His mouth was curved into a smile, too. His was wide, his teeth shining bright under the overhead lights. Heat warmed her cheeks as he stared at her, his eyes dancing with almost boyish delight. She laughed and prodded a finger into his chest. “What?”

  He shook his head and ran his hand over her shoulder and down her upper arm. “Nothing.”

  Her stomach executed an alien and worryingly girlish loop-the-loop. God, she liked him so much. But she had to keep her head in the game...and her heart under control. Feeling more than a little rattled, she pushed him back and smiled. “Stop looking at me like that. We have to get dressed and out of here before Freddy comes searching for one of us.”

  He groaned and tipped his head back. “Can’t we hide in here awhile longer?”

  She grinn
ed. “No.”

  Sliding from the countertop, her body hummed with nerves as she walked around the small space and grabbed her clothes. She snatched up what was left of her panties and screwed them tightly into her hand. Her lingering smile dissolved. What had they done? What would happen next? Emotions were high and her lust even more so. She wouldn’t regret their lovemaking because it was entirely what she wanted, but now what? What did they say to each other? Feel for one another?

  His feet sounded against the tiles behind her, followed by the rustle and swish of clothes. She swallowed her nerves and dressed with her back to him, as self-consciousness skimmed her body.

  Once she was fully clothed, she inhaled a strengthening breath and turned.

  He quirked an eyebrow. “So...what now?”

  She stared. That was the big question. “I don’t know.”

  His smile faltered and his shoulders slumped. “No regrets?”

  She forced a smile. “No regrets.”

  Yet, the enormity of what they’d just done crashed into her heart and mind. The fair still hovered between them like an unwavering and dangerous boulder. Nothing had changed. One premature shove from either of them could send the whole thing over the cliff, crushing her beneath its weight.

  If he found out about her past, would he think sex was how she got her way? Would he believe her when she said she wanted him because of him and the way he made her feel? That she’d risen above her molestation and used her pain as strength? The world was hers for the taking. Life was there to be discovered, enjoyed and grasped at every opportunity.

  She wasn’t ignoring the fact that the sexy confidence and intelligence that lingered in his cool blue eyes had pricked at her heart from the first moment he looked at her. Her passion for him wasn’t about insecurity or what she had to gain. It was something so primal it pulled at her, making her yearn for his hands to touch her, his lips to kiss her and his penis to push deep inside her until nothing else mattered but how he made her want to climb into the sky and pluck out the sun.

  Her heart shuddered. Why would he believe that when she scarcely could?

  She tilted her chin and dragged her strength up from her toes. “We’ll put what happened here on the back burner for a while. We have to deal with the revelation you suspect my mum had dealings with Kyle. That’s the most important thing right now.”

  He stared at her, and a flash of something—maybe disbelief—or hurt—filled his gaze before he blinked and it was gone. He nodded, his face impassive. “Absolutely.”

  He brushed past her, and Sasha stood stock-still. She closed her eyes when the door clicked open behind her. She wanted to move, but her feet wouldn’t cooperate. She wanted to chase after him and tell him she didn’t do what they’d done for anything but the desire to be intimate with him...for a few blessed moments. She didn’t lay herself wide open to anyone, and her every truth had been there for him to take or reject whenever she kissed or touched him.

  Forcing herself to move, she stuffed her panties into her bag before hurrying to the sink. She quickly washed her hands, gratefully splashing cold water over her hot face and neck. Her body yearned for John’s from the moment she saw him and her desire was as confusing as it was exhilarating. Did he feel their connection as she did? Or was she alone in the mess of her runaway emotions? She cursed. She didn’t want to feel this way about him. She wanted him to stay in the safety of enemy camp and not blur the battle lines.

  Turning off the faucet, she grabbed her bag, left the kitchen. She wouldn’t hide or run away. She would face whatever they decided to do next. One thing was certain, whether either of them liked it or not, from now on they both had to work out the problem of what happened next. It was the only way they could move past the mistakes and selfishness of their parents.

  The office was empty. She sucked in a breath as a pain assaulted her chest. Had he left? Turned his back on her? The toilet flushed in the bathroom, and she snapped her head toward the closed door. John strolled out and flashed her a strained smile before he walked toward his desk. Her held breath whispered from her mouth. “You okay?”

  He rubbed his hand over his face before he met her eyes. “Sure.”

  She approached the desk.

  He leaned forward on his elbows, his eyes dark with concern and his brow furrowed. “I won’t let you get hurt, Sasha. Not anymore.”

  Her gaze lingered on his for a moment longer before she stepped away and paced a few steps back and forth in front of him. He cared. She could no longer deny that or paint him as the enemy. His concern for her was genuine and, if the truth be told, she didn’t want him to hurt anymore, either. She stopped and met his eyes. “So what do we do?”

  “We work together to find out the truth and then take it from there.”

  She nodded. “Okay. And I don’t want us to fight anymore.” She smiled softly. “You’re an okay kind of guy...to a point.”

  He met her smile. “And you’re pretty hot...to a point.”

  Heat pinched her cheeks as the sexual tension between them soared once more. She shook her head. “Let’s focus on the here and now, mister. No more... You know.”

  He closed his eyes, his smile dissolving. “You’re right. Sorry.”

  She moved the visitor’s chair in front of his desk and gripped its back. “Where did these suspicions about my mother come from? Or have you known about her involvement the entire time you’ve been here?”

  He opened his eyes wide. “God, no. Is that what you think?”

  Insecurity and distrust hurtled into her before she could stop it. She might really like him, but it would take more than a pair of deep blue eyes and a body as hard as a brick to break her habitual suspicion.

  She blew out a breath. “Then what happened for you to believe Kyle doesn’t want me to know something went on between him and my mother?”

  He leaned back in his chair, his eyes locked on hers. “It was something Freddy said to me earlier.”

  The floor shifted beneath her, and she gripped the chair tighter. “Freddy knows about this?”

  “No. Yes. I’m not sure.”

  “Which is it? Yes or no?” Now she was angry.

  “Sasha—”

  “Tell me.”

  When he stood and came around the desk, she stepped back and his outstretched hand dropped to his side. “Freddy took great pleasure in telling me he spoke to Kyle this afternoon.” He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and held it up. “I received this visiting permit from Kyle a few days ago. It turns out he sent one to Freddy, too, summoning us both to attendance.”

  She stared at the paper. “Freddy told me he spoke to Kyle the day before yesterday. You didn’t go?”

  John shook his head. “I don’t want to see him until I’m ready. He clearly thinks he’s still in control.” He glared. “He’s not.”

  “He is as far as Freddy’s concerned.”

  “Maybe, but I couldn’t care less about Freddy right now.”

  “You should. Freddy’s pissed off and that cannot be good news for you...or me.”

  He shoved the permit back in his pocket and pushed his hand into his hair, holding it there. “Freddy said it didn’t matter that I’m Kyle’s son. Kyle would always need him and Freddy would always know the fair better than me.”

  She fisted her hands on her hips. “What’s that got to do with my mother?”

  “I don’t know. We batted words back and forth for a while, not really getting any further before he stormed out.” He held her gaze. “Not before saying once you found out how much your mother hates this place, you’d hate me as much as you hate her.”

  She flinched. “I don’t hate my mother. We don’t see eye to eye about this place. That’s as far as it goes.”

  He frowned. “So you speak? You and your mum?”

  “Yes.” She lifted her shoulders. “We’re not the type to go for tea and cake, but we talk.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I can’t stand the thought of Freddy knowing m
ore about my family than I do. What would make him say that?” Frustration hummed inside her. If Freddy knows things about my mother, what else does he know? Does he know about my past, too? Does Kyle?

  Nausea rose in her throat. Does John?

  The threat of humiliation swarmed inside her. She liked John so much, had given herself to him with passion and need, but she couldn’t afford to be blinded by her feelings for him. It would lead to mistakes. Huge mistakes. Both emotionally and intellectually. She didn’t doubt for a moment that if John knew about her molestation, his need to take care of her would be grounded in that, rather than any romantic feelings he might have for her.

  She lifted her chin against the pain lingering in her chest. “I’ve made you an offer for the fair, yet nothing’s changed, and I only have your word that it ever will. How do I really know you’ll give me what I want in the end?”

  A flush darkened his cheeks and his eyes turned to steel. “I’m not Kyle. I don’t deal in business with a hidden agenda. I’m not a man who goes back on his word. If, at the end of this, I see no reason for you not to have the fair, I’ll do everything possible to damn well give it to you. I don’t want your money. What just happened...” He shook his head. “Meant something to me. That wasn’t a hit-and-run. I admit, when I first came to Templeton, everything was about Kyle and how I could screw him over, but now I’ve met you...now I know he’s dying...”

  She swallowed, as sympathy whispered across her heart. “Now what?”

  He stared into her eyes. “Now my head’s more of a mess than it was before.”

  Her heart picked up speed. He must be grieving, despite his determination to believe the opposite. Is that what was making him reach for her? What was making this thing between them as irresistible to him as it was to her?

  He stepped closer. “Everything is so much less about Kyle...and more about you.”

  Hope shot through her. She wanted more than anything to believe his care for her was genuine, but the man had to be reeling with confusion and grief. She would be a fool to believe John could really walk into her life and make it better. Make her feel less lonely; less afraid of ever trusting anyone but her best friend.