by Mari Carr
“I loved it. Only thing that would have made it better is if you’d been with me.”
She smiled, her face teasing. “Yeah well, someone had to hold down the fort around here while you were off gallivanting.”
“Speaking of that.” Travis sat up and Shea followed suit. Even though they were side by side, it wasn’t close enough for him. He pulled her onto his lap. “I wanted to talk to you about something. I’m leaving Scoundrels.”
She nodded. “Good. I’m glad.”
“I’ve entered into a business deal with Jack. I traded him half of Scoundrels for half of his security firm.”
“Jack’s going to own half of Scoundrels?”
Travis shook his head. “He’s going to give it to Emma as a wedding present. Emma will own half of Scoundrels.”
“So you’re going into security?”
Travis looked around, his gaze directing hers to the monitors on the wall. “I happen to be very good at watching people. Hell, I caught a homeless woman squatting in a nightclub once.”
Shea blushed. “So what are you doing with the other half of the club?”
“Giving it to you.”
Shea laughed. “Yeah, right. Seriously, are you just going to be a silent partner or are you selling it?”
He looked at her, waiting for her to realize he wasn’t joking. He recognized the moment the truth sunk in.
“You can’t give it to me,” she said.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s too much!”
He was afraid she’d balk. Had actually expected it. If he had his way, Shea would eventually get the club. He thought of Jack’s wedding gift to Emma. It was too soon to consider marriage, though when Travis looked at Shea, he certainly saw a future. Forever. “Fine. Then I’ll remain a silent partner and I’m hiring you to take over my duties at Scoundrels.”
She regarded his quick about-face with suspicion. “Just hiring me? You promise?”
“Yes, but you’re getting a big-ass raise. I’m not going to argue about that.”
“I won’t fight you on that. Need money to find a place to live now that you’re home.”
He panicked. “Stay with me.”
“Travis. We really haven’t known each other that long. I think maybe we should take things slower.”
“I’m sure we should. Stay with me anyway. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll help you find your own place. I swear.”
She kissed him rather than respond. He deepened the kiss, more than willing to do whatever it took to convince her. He reached for her waist, letting his fingers drift beneath her blouse to touch her smooth skin. He’d only had one night with her. One too-brief moment inside her body. He’d gone crazy with longing while he was away and more than a few times, he’d nearly hopped in the car to come back to her. The realization he wasn’t ready always stopped him.
Shea was the one to pull away. “So what made you decide to come home now?”
“Last week, I woke up with an honest-to-God smile on my face. For the first time in memory, I’d slept soundly all night and woken up feeling good about life. When I told my therapist, he suggested perhaps it was time for me to come home. He gave me the name of a colleague here in L.A. I already contacted the man and I have an appointment next week. I have a feeling my therapy is likely to continue for years.”
“I’m glad you aren’t going to stop. It’s a good thing to do.”
“Shea. I understand we’re still in the early days of this relationship, but I want to keep seeing you.”
She pressed her forehead against his and closed her eyes, smiling. “I want the same thing.”
“I should warn you now. I’m controlling, sarcastic, opinionated.”
“So am I. Should make for an interesting relationship.”
He laughed, the sound raw, unfamiliar. She’d done that. Brought humor and happiness back to his life.
“If I were a better man, I’d take you home and make love to you on a real bed for once. As it is…”
She reached for the top button of her blouse, unfastening it. “If you make me wait that long, I’ll kill you.”
She stood up, shimmying her skirt off. Travis rose quickly, following suit as he hastened to take off his clothes. Once they were naked, Travis pulled her close, savoring her bare skin against his. It had been too long. The tenor of their kisses changed, becoming harder, deeper, hungrier.
Travis dragged her back to the couch, settling between her open legs. Shea’s hands explored him thoroughly, touching his neck, his chest, his back. He relished each stroke of her fingers, each caress from her delicate hands.
When he couldn’t wait a moment longer, he placed the head of his cock at her wet entrance and came home for real. She wrapped her legs around his waist, shifting until he was buried deep, filling every part of her.
Together they began the motions, the give and take, the up and down, the in and out. He drank in the sounds of Shea’s little sex noises—her quiet gasps, soft moans, the occasional squeal when he hit that magic spot deep inside her.
Soon Travis lost track of his surroundings, his pleasure blacking out every conscious thought. He drove in faster, wanting to imprint this moment in his memory forever. Shea cried out and her pussy muscles clenched against him. Her orgasm milked his cock almost painfully. He’d never experienced such earth-shaking climaxes before her.
He came hard, loving the sensation of filling her body, marking her. Both of them gasped, struggling to recover. His arms gave out and he collapsed on top of her. He started to move, afraid of crushing her, but she wrapped her arms around him more tightly. “Don’t leave me. Not yet.”
His cock softened inside her as they lay together. He wasn’t sure if it was her heart he felt beating or his own. It didn’t matter. His heart only beat for her.
“I love you.” He whispered the words, cursing himself for rushing things so. He was twelve years older, but Shea was miles ahead of him in terms of relationships. He felt like a teenage boy, experiencing his first romance. Then he realized he was.
Shea was it. His first love.
She ran her fingers through his hair. “I love you too, Travis. What do you say we take that box of sex toys back to your place—”
“Our place,” he corrected.
“Our place. As I recall, we missed a toy or two.”
He stood quickly. A few minutes ago, he’d sworn a tornado wouldn’t be able to move him in his exhausted state. With just a few words, Shea had him up and ready to run a marathon if at the end, she was there waiting in his bed.
“Ah,” he said, reaching down to help her up. “So it’s later, is it?”
“It’s definitely later.”
* * * *
Travis stood on the shoreline watching the waves. The storm three nights ago had driven his depression to a head and taken him to a dark place. He’d attempted to numb the pain with alcohol, but Shea had shown up. He closed his eyes as the memory of her face came back to him. He’d hurt her badly. Struck out at her with cold, hateful words he didn’t mean.
She’d said she loved him and come to him when he’d needed her. Shea had given herself to him body and soul in hopes of healing his hurts. All he’d done in return was inflict his pain on her. Since that night, he’d paced the floor, trying to think of some way to make amends for his cruelty, to beg forgiveness for what he’d done.
The thought of losing Shea was unbearable.
Had he ever known pain before seeing her face as she said goodbye? He’d gladly take a million slices of a sword blade before he’d willingly put that agony back in her eyes.
“Travis?”
He turned to find her approaching. Her face was cold, expressionless. After years spent basking in the sunshine of her smile, he knew then just how much he’d hurt her. “You came.”
She held his message in her hand and shrugged. “I wanted to reiterate what I said the other night. There’s no need for us to wed. No one knows about what happened and I certainly
don’t plan to enlighten them. I also came to tell you I’m relieving you from your duties as my tutor. My lessons have been more than sufficient, so you don’t have to worry about me bothering you anymore.”
She started to turn away, but Travis halted her with his hand on her arm. She winced at his touch. Bile closed his throat as he was overcome with guilt.
“I love you.”
They weren’t the words he’d planned to say. He hadn’t even considered that fact until they’d slipped out. He’d intended to apologize, to beg her forgiveness, to promise her the world if only she’d agree to be his friend once more.
“What?”
“I love you. I’m completely, irrevocably, insanely in love with you.”
Tears sprung to her eyes and her face softened. “But I’m ruined.”
The sadness in her voice told him exactly how deeply that stab had pierced. “No. You’re not. But I am. The war…” He paused, uncertain how to explain to her.
She didn’t speak, didn’t encourage him to continue as she would have in the past. However, she didn’t walk away. He took hope in that.
“I was part of a wonderful regiment, an amazing group of brave men. We spent months together, fighting in campaign after campaign, always watching each other’s backs, protecting one another. They were more than fellow soldiers to me. They were brothers. One day, we moved against the French just outside Hougoumont. Our objective was to continue fighting to the front.”
Shea took his hand in hers and squeezed it. He hadn’t realized he was trembling.
“We charged forward, but it soon became clear we were no match for the French. The expected reinforcements didn’t arrive. We were outnumbered and facing certain death but we still drove forward. At the end of the day, over half the regiment was lost. The battlefield was littered with bodies and blood. I lay there badly wounded, my face sliced open. I vowed on that field to all those men I would never bring a child into a world where such a senseless loss of life could occur.”
“It was a war, Travis. Those men knew what the risks were. They were fighting for their loved ones, for their country.”
“I know. It was a vow made in a moment of absolute weakness and desolation, but it was one I intended to honor. Until you.”
Tears sprung to her eyes. “I see. I didn’t know. I thought I was helping you forget. I didn’t mean to pressure you. To make you break that vow.”
He shook his head. “No, you didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to do. I knew I was lost the other night. Knew I was helpless to resist you. Storms trouble me. They remind me too much of the sounds of the battlefield. I was in a very dark place when you arrived. I took what I wanted, lashing out at you for my weakness. There simply aren’t words to tell you how sorry I am.”
She smiled. “Actually, I think the ones you said were perfect. Say them again.”
He could tell she was teasing, but he didn’t care. Her forgiveness was more than he deserved. “I want to marry you, Shea Landon. I want you to be my countess, my wife and my wanton lover.”
“And children?”
He smiled. “There’s nothing I won’t give you.”
“I love you too, Lord Knight.”
Epilogue
Travis entered Shea’s bedchamber after midnight, spying her grin when he crawled into her bed. They were to wed tomorrow. If he was caught sneaking into her bedchamber it would be considered scandalous, but the ton would forgive them their indiscretion. It was a well-known fact the Earl of Worschire had made a love match with Lady Landon, the bluestocking.
“Your feet are cold,” she said.
“I was hoping you could warm them up for me.”
“What are you doing here, Travis?”
“There are other lessons I need to teach you before you settle down and become a proper wife.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you insinuating that proper wives don’t embark on the sexual adventures you and I have been exploring? Because I’ll tell you right now, Travis Knight, I will not let you find your more risqué pleasures with any woman besides me.”
Travis grinned. “I should warn you, my darling wife-to-be, I have dark desires and I can be a hard man to please. Perhaps I should demonstrate?”
“I’m not concerned. I’m certain I’m more than suited to the challenge. After all, I’ve had a wonderful tutor.”
“And your lessons have only just begun.”
Travis bent down to kiss her and he wondered if he’d ever grow tired of her lips.
He slowly lifted her night rail. “When we’re married, I want you to sleep naked. Every night.”
“As long as you give me the same promise.”
Travis nipped at her bared shoulder and Shea opened her legs, allowing him to settle between them. “Still negotiating, Shea?”
“Always.”
“Once we’re wed, I want us to share a room. No separate bedchambers for us.”
“Agreed.” Shea ran her hand along his chest until her fingers stopped just shy of his cock. “So long as you consent to let me play with this, however and whenever I want.”
“I think that could be arranged.”
Shea wrapped her hand around Travis’ cock and placed it at the entrance to her body. He started to push in when—
“Is that my book you’re reading?”
Travis lowered the romance novel he’d snuck off Shea’s nightstand, not bothering to hide his grin. “Yes. Now go away. I was just getting to the good part.”
She laughed as she hopped on the bed, crawling next to him. “I assume the good part is a sex scene?”
Travis wiggled his eyebrows. However, rather than resume reading, he tossed the book to the floor. “Yep. Of course, it would be more fun to do the scene than read about it.”
“Our own fetish fantasy?”
He nodded. “Oh, hell yeah. You can be my fair maiden, trapped in a castle, held prisoner by an evil warlord.”
“And you can be my gallant white knight, come on his steed to save and seduce me.”
Travis wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer. “Maybe this story would work better if you were the white knight. God knows it was you who saved me.”
Shea blushed and smiled. “I think it’s safe to say we saved each other. Don’t forget, you pulled me out of a storm when I was sick and gave me somewhere safe to sleep.”
“So we’re going to act out a story where we save each other?”
Shea nodded. “I think I’d like that.”
Travis kissed her softly. “I’d like it too.”
The End
Preview the next book
Red Queen
Scoundrels, Book 3
Mari Carr
Chapter 1
“Pass me the rum, Becca.”
Becca Preston grabbed the bottle of Bacardi and handed it to Bill before powering up the blender on her own batch of daiquiris.
“Becca, when you get a chance I need two Heinekens and a vodka tonic.” Belinda, the new waitress, reached across the counter to grab a handful of cocktail napkins. “Is this place always so crazy?”
Becca grinned as she popped the tops off the beer bottles and stirred the mixed drink. “There’s a new show opening tonight. That always guarantees a full house.”
Belinda gave her an exhausted look, murmured a quick word of thanks, then darted off to deliver the drinks.
Emma, part owner of Scoundrels, sank down on a barstool at the end of the counter. “We’re screwed.”
Becca tried to decide if she’d heard her boss correctly. The music was blaring, making it difficult to hear anything that wasn’t shouted. “Why?”
Emma’s shoulders slumped. “Angie fell down the stairs at her building. She’s in an ambulance right now on her way to the hospital. EMT thinks she broke her ankle.”
“Shit.” Suddenly Becca understood Emma’s concern. Angie was tonight’s lead in one of the sex fantasy shows Scoundrels, one of L.A.’s hottest night spots, was fam
ous for. Emma jokingly referred to the erotic entertainment she created as “classy porn.”
The shows were hot, while never quite crossing over a line that would get the actors arrested for performing lewd acts in a public place. Emma delved into people’s darkest fantasies, creating the illusion of sex on stage. The shows pulled in patrons from all walks of life—blue-collar, businessmen, even movie execs—and several Scoundrels actors had actually gotten their big breaks after being discovered by producers who attended the shows under the guise of searching for new talent.
After six years as a Scoundrels bartender, Becca had learned sex evened out life’s playing field. Everyone who walked through the doors came partly out of curiosity, but mainly because they wanted to see their own sexual fantasies brought to life.
Becca flicked a quick look at the patrons sitting at the bar. Everyone seemed good, so she gave Bill a nod. “I’m taking five.”
Bill nodded and continued filling a couple of pitchers.
Becca walked around the counter, leaning against the railing next to Emma. “So what are you going to do?”
While Emma was essentially her boss, Becca had also come to view her as a friend. Both of them were professional enough to recognize the line between personal and business. They never let it become blurred. Becca didn’t shirk her responsibilities or expect special treatment simply because she was friends with Emma, or because her father was a Hollywood legend and everyone knew Becca didn’t really need the job. And Emma didn’t play favorites. Period.
Emma shrugged. “I don’t have a clue. Tonight’s huge. A sell-out. I’ve been advertising the surprise actor for weeks. His appearance here is going to be a major coup for us.”
“So you keep saying, but since I don’t know who tonight’s lead is, I can’t really sympathize.” Emma had been remarkably tight-lipped about the show’s leading man. No matter how many times Becca begged for a hint, Emma simply gave her a slight smile and told her she’d find out when everyone else did—the moment the man walked on the stage.
Emma rubbed her eyes wearily. “Doesn’t matter now. We’re forty-five minutes away from show time and I don’t have a leading lady.”
