Whatever He Requires

by Alice Gaines

  “Never.” She took him by the hand, led him inside, and slid the door closed. “I’m going to take a bath. Why don’t you start a fire?”

  After grabbing the bag from the rocking chair, she disappeared into the bathroom. Soon water splashed into the tub, and the scent of lilacs floated out into the bedroom. Smiling, Peter knelt by the small hearth and assembled a fire from the materials in a wicker basket nearby. Though no expert, he managed to get a blaze after striking a few matches. Then he turned down the covers on the bed.

  By the time he’d removed his shoes and socks, he’d become remarkably randy and ready for her. She ought to be clean by now. Actually, she hadn’t needed a bath at all, and she had no reason not to appear at this exact moment, hot and fragrant from the water. And if she didn’t, he had every reason to go in there and move things along a bit more quickly.

  Yes, indeed. Every reason. He glanced at the second hand of his watch. Ten, nine, eight…oh, hell. Rather than test the timepiece’s water resistance, he removed it and set it on the table beside the bed. Then he rose and went into the bathroom.

  She glanced up when he entered, an expression on her face that said Where have you been?

  “Everything all right in here?” he asked.

  She raised her arms over her head. “Heavenly.”

  The tub was large, and she’d filled it with water and bubbles. With her body stretched out, her breasts peeked out, the nipples puckered. When she slid back down, they disappeared. “Want to wash my back?”

  “How about your front?”

  “That can be arranged.”

  He knelt behind the tub and took a soap and washcloth from her hands. When she sat up, he scrubbed her back from her neck all the way down the furrow over her spine. Her skin felt slick under his hands, and the perfume of lilacs invaded his brain. From now on, he’d think of her and remember this moment whenever he detected that scent again.

  She held her golden hair up and to the side to let him work, revealing the delicate arch of her neck. Never one to miss an opportunity, he bent to her and slid his lips along a path from her nape to her ear.

  “Mmm,” she said. “Is it getting steamy in here?”

  “I certainly hope so.” Now that he’d done his duty toward her back, he could concentrate on the more interesting bits, namely her breasts and the treasures between her legs. After soaping his palms, he reached to her chest. She rested back and closed her eyes as he massaged her flesh and tugged gently at the nipples. He could do this all day, play with her body giving her orgasm after orgasm, and some time they ought to set aside hours for him to do exactly that.

  Of course, their week would be over soon, but they didn’t have a rule that things would end then. He’d assumed they both wanted that. Hell, he didn’t know what he wanted while he contemplated making love with this woman. She distracted him like crazy, making important things recede while little things took their place. Such as the exact color of her nipples and the pitch of her voice when she climaxed.

  Bending over her, he moved his hands past her belly and toward the juncture of her thighs. In response, she reached behind her to twine her arms around his neck. The motion brought her breasts out of the water, the nipples wearing a garland of fragrant bubbles. She was such a carnal creature, accepting pleasure as if it were her due. But then, a beautiful woman like her deserved nothing less.

  When he parted the lips of her pussy and stroked the inner surfaces, she sucked in a breath. “You’re going to make me come.”

  “That’s the general idea.”

  “You only have to touch me, and I—”

  “Like this?” He found her hard nub and circled his finger over it.

  “God!” she cried.

  “Just relax and enjoy.”

  She didn’t release his neck as her eyes closed in bliss. He continued toying with her clitoris, pressing and rolling it and enjoying the sound of her harsh breaths in his ear while she became more and more aroused. By now, he knew her response well enough to recognize when she’d hit that plateau where the world ceased to exist except for the sensitive spot between her legs.

  He became excited with her. How could he not? Though he still had enough presence of mind to keep up the pressure against her clit, he’d become more than a little aroused himself. His cock had swollen to full erection and strained against his pants. Though his mind could happily keep her in the tub for hours, finding new ways to make her wild, his member needed her on the bed or anywhere where it could plunge into her wetness.

  “Don’t stop,” she murmured, her voice thick. “Don’t stop.”

  The signal that she’d arrived. He never let up stroking her clitoris, now harder and faster, the way she liked at orgasm. She rewarded him immediately with a rising note that built to a cry. Her whole body shuddered, stirring up waves in the tub, as she came. Anyone standing directly at the other side of the wall would have heard her and known exactly what was going on. Fine with him. He’d happily tell the whole world what he could do for Ms. Susan Christopher.

  She finally relaxed, allowing her arms to fall by her sides, and let out a satisfied sigh. “You know where all my buttons are.”

  “A good lover makes it his business to know.”

  “It’s time I showed some appreciation.” She rose, and as far as he was concerned, she looked a hell of a lot sexier than that painting of Venus. And he had the pleasure to dry her off. As she climbed out of the tub, he grabbed a fluffy towel from the rack and opened it for her to step into.

  She looked at him and laughed. “I got water all over your shirt.”

  Glancing down, he found the splashes and even some suds. He’d been too busy with other things to notice at the time. “It’ll dry.”

  “Come on.” She dropped the towel and took his hand. “I want to make love with you by firelight.”

  What man could pass up an invitation like that? Certainly not one who’d already become fully hard for her. And not one who had already sampled all the pleasures she offered and constantly craved more. He let her lead him into the bedroom and undressed as she turned off all the lights until nothing but the flickering from the fireplace lit the room.

  She went to the bed, climbed between the sheets, and watched him remove the last of his clothes. Before he pushed down his pants, he removed the condom from his pocket and tossed it onto the bed. Her brow went up in a question.

  “I always have one close at hand when I’m with you,” he said.

  “Just one?”

  “I hadn’t planned on this trip,” he said. “If we want to do anything else, we’ll have to get creative.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  Finally, he stripped off his pants and boxers and stood for a moment for her inspection.

  “And I like the look of that,” she said, her voice husky. “Bring that bad boy over here.”

  “Gladly.” He slipped under the covers next to her, opened the packet, and slid the condom over his aching flesh. Nothing primed him so quickly and completely as touching her and watching her response. She seemed ready now, not requiring any niceties but simply opening her arms—and her legs—to make a place for him. As he positioned himself over her, she gazed up at him with a smile that froze his breath in his chest. Such perfect acceptance. No games. Simple wanting, need for him.

  When he thrust into her slowly, she tilted her head back and moaned. Her legs wrapped around him, holding him against her. As if he’d ever leave. Instead, he began a gentle thrust and retreat. Her inner walls grasped at his cock as he moved, and her heat sunk into his flesh. Perfection, nothing less. They’d been created to fit together this way—his hardness penetrating, her sheath tightening around him.

  All his senses went to high alert as his thinking mind blinked out. The crackle of the fire as it poured its heat over his exposed skin. The scent of her bath and the perfume that was her very own. The softness of the woman beneath him and the press of her hardened nipples against his chest. And inside hi
m, the urge to move. Harder, faster, deeper.

  He did. God help him, he couldn’t stop himself. Her hips rose up to meet him as he pushed them closer to the edge. She’d caught the fever, and she strained against him. For a moment, she opened her eyes and stared into his. Recognition passed between them. This was real, not the mere acting out of a sexual fantasy. She was with him, not imagining another lover, and at that moment he couldn’t have chosen anyone else to fill his mind and heart.

  Then she closed her eyes again and bit her lip as her face contorted with pleasure. She was approaching the peak, and he would come with her. The sense of inevitability approached, and he could only continue thrusting as the climax built. His vision swam, bloodred around the edges and then a blinding white.

  Her cries penetrated, and then the spasms started. Her pussy convulsed around his cock, finishing him. He came in a huge explosion followed by lesser ones. Semen rushed from him in a hot stream until he had nothing left to give. Weakened now, he could only rest against her, gasping for breath.

  In the hearth, a log hissed and then cracked apart, sending out a shower of light and heat while his heart beat against hers. Peace. Joy. Complete satiation.

  * * *

  On their last day working together, Susan sat beside Peter in the limo watching as the city streets went by. They could have driven the Dynamik to city hall if Peter had trusted parking his baby on the street—not!—or to the tender mercies of an attendant. But for official business they might as well arrive in the official company limousine.

  His hand rested on top of hers on the seat between them. Reassurance. She’d awakened a nervous wreck after spending half the night pounding her pillow and trying to get comfortable. What would happen after the week they’d spent together in pretty much a recreation of the Kama Sutra? He couldn’t simply walk away from that, could he? Scratch that. He probably could. Could she? Not easily, for sure.

  Would he walk away was an entirely different question. They hadn’t discussed a future past the time when his assistant would arrive. They hadn’t made any declarations or promises. When the time came, she’d have to thank him for the fabulous time, wish him well, and make her feet take her away from him and Hawthorn House. She’d always loved the latter, and she had to admit to herself she cared about the former too.

  “We’ll have something to celebrate tonight,” he said. Neither his tone nor his expression gave away any emotion. Maybe he had no feelings about ending their relationship one way or the other. Ending it didn’t seem like an occasion to celebrate.

  “What’s that?” she asked, doing her best to match his casual demeanor.

  “The city is awarding me the land for my factory,” he said. “We only have to pick up the paperwork from Stemple.”

  “That’s great, Peter,” she said and meant it. “I’m really happy for you.”

  “You’ve been a tremendous help to me.” He squeezed her fingers with his. “Thank you.”

  She covered his hand with her free one. He’d worked her hard, but he’d also cooked her some of the best food she’d ever eaten, and in San Francisco, that was saying something. Then he’d made her nights hot enough to fuel her fantasies for years. All that, and her company had paid her a full-time salary. Good deal all around. So why was her heart sinking?

  “Let’s have dinner out tonight,” he said. “I‘ve made reservations at Haute California.”

  “That place? You normally have to get on a waiting list.”

  “I have some pull,” he said.

  “Why does that not surprise me?”

  “Let’s also plan to talk about where we go from here,” he said. Again, he sounded as if he were discussing whether they should turn right or left at the light. He’d done the same the morning when he’d asked if they should have an affair. Clearly, he didn’t get emotional about these things. She shouldn’t either. Still, her heart had stopped sinking and now floated up toward her ribs.

  “Let’s do that,” she said. There. That sounded noncommittal enough.

  They pulled up in front of City Hall, and the driver got out to help her from the limo. As soon as her feet hit the pavement, Peter had his hand at her elbow to escort her up the stairs to the imposing structure. At first it had felt odd to be “helped” everywhere, but Peter insisted on Old World ways, and the charm of it had grown on her.

  A woman in a business suit greeted them just inside the doors and guided them past security, up the grand staircase, and down the hallway until they arrived at Stemple’s office. Susan glanced around as they passed the receptionist. How many times had Archways attempted to gain admittance here? They’d never gotten farther than the poo-bah’s appointment secretary’s polite requests that they try again after the holidays or after the election or any number of other excuses. Sir Peter Breit breezed through it all without lifting a finger, and in a moment, they stood inside the inner sanctum and faced the man himself.

  Stemple came around his desk to shake, and when his gaze fell on Susan, his eyes widened ever so slightly. Surprise? The remark he’d made at the party came back to her. He’d found it odd to see her with Peter. Apparently, he still did.

  After she and Peter had taken seats in matching armchairs, Stemple sat on the edge of his desk. “Congratulations, Sir Peter. The city council approved your use of the Gold Rush Cannery property. The land is yours.”

  “Wait a minute.” What the fuck? No. She gripped the arms of her chair. “The Gold Rush property?”

  Stemple crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a knowing smile. “That’s the one.”

  Damn it all. Archways had been trying to get that land for months, as the man very well knew if he’d read anything at all of the proposals they’d sent him. No wonder he hadn’t expected to see her with Peter. They’d been in competition for the property.

  She turned to Peter. “You can’t mean to use that property.”

  “Why not?” His expression was innocent enough. But then, this was the guy who made plans to discuss relationships in much the same way he made plans for a factory. Still she hadn’t told him exactly where she’d hoped for her houses to go.

  “It’s a neighborhood, for one thing,” she said. “They won’t want a factory.”

  “They do,” Stemple said. “It’ll create jobs and customers for the businesses around the plant.”

  “Don’t give me that…” She stopped herself before she called bullshit on the director of planning in his own office. “Factories are loud and noxious.”

  “Not mine,” Peter said. “It’ll be a modern facility. Green, as they say.”

  “You don’t understand.” She clenched her hands into fists in her lap. “That’s where Archways wants to build.”

  Peter stared at her for a moment, his brows knitted with concern. Clearly he hadn’t realized the two of them had applied to get the same property. Thank heaven. Now he’d do the right thing.

  “I’m sorry, Susan,” he said.

  That was it? He was sorry? He didn’t ask Stemple about the confusion or question why the property had gone to his factory instead of Archways’ model community. Neither of them were going to do anything to correct the situation. She’d expect that from the man who’d ignored Archways for months. She shouldn’t have to expect it from the man she’d been making love with for the past week. Or having sex.

  She rose and glared at Stemple. “You didn’t even consider our proposal, did you?”

  “Susan,” Peter said softly.

  She glared over her shoulder at him for a second and then returned to the bastard in front of her. “You gave the property to the first out-of-town money that came to you and ignored the people who actually live here.”

  “Susan,” Peter repeated, this time with more than a hint of anger in his voice.

  She stiffened her back, ignoring Peter. “This isn’t fair. You need to do something to fix it.”

  “What would you suggest?” Stemple said. His posture remained the same, his arms still crossed
over his chest.

  “Give Archways the property and find somewhere else for the factory,” she said. “If you don’t, we’ll be at the next city council meeting in force.”

  He gave her an unctuous smile. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

  “Like hell you can’t. If you gave the land to him, you can give it to us.”

  “You’re not doing your organization any favors, young lady,” Stemple said.

  Young lady. Young. He’d dismissed her, throwing her age in her face. Bastard. The other night, he’d did his damnedest to look down her dress, and he’d laughed at her for showing up with the man who’d win the property she wanted to build on. Sure, he hadn’t guffawed at the time, and he wasn’t doing it now. He was, however, smirking, and she was just the young woman to wipe that smirk off his face. Literally.

  Unfortunately, he was right. Slugging him might feel good, but it wouldn’t get Archways anywhere. Damn it. Damn it all to hell.

  “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “We’ll be in touch.”

  That said, she turned and stalked from the office, not bothering to see if the door closed behind her or not. She crossed the outer area in a few strides, threw that door open, and went into the hall.

  Think. She had to think. Pacing might not help, but it wouldn’t hurt either, so she did it. A few steps in one direction and then back.

  This sucked. It royally, majorly sucked. She’d drawn plans for that parcel. She’d felt the most amazing pride when the people at Archways had taken them seriously. They’d planned everything—where the playground would go, how to lay out the community garden, what kind of composter to install. Most of all the houses…the beautiful, energy-efficient houses that she’d designed. Each one with its own yard and fencing so the children could have dogs if they wanted. Something the people could own, earn equity with over the years so they could send their kids to college. She’d worked so hard. So damned fucking hard.

  She stopped in her tracks and bit her lip. She would not cry. That would only prove Stemple right—that she was nothing more than a young lady, not someone to be taken seriously.