The Tycoon's Temporary Bride: Book Four

by Ana E Ross

  She chuckled and he slid a little farther in, conjuring a little “Oohh,” out of her.

  He thrust again, grazing her tender walls with the rigid head of his shaft, coaxing sweet moans out of her. She licked her lips as she tried to adjust to his size. They’d made love so many times in the past three days, yet each time he entered her, Adam was amazed at the tightness of her body. As she’d mentioned, it was like taking her cherry all over again.

  He swallowed the ache of passion in his throat. “You asked me a question three days ago in the kitchen, to which I gave no response,” he said. “Do you remember?”

  Her forehead crinkled and she shook her head. “No.”

  “You asked me how I know I didn’t love Claire.”

  She licked her lips again and lowered her lashes.

  “Look at me,” he commanded softly as he drew his hips back and thrust, pushing more of his cock into her slippery warmth.

  Her lids fluttered open even as her muscles contracted around him, clinging to him, inviting him to go deeper inside her warm feminine abode. “I know I never loved her,” he said between a gasp of sheer pleasure, “because—because I didn’t feel for her, or any other living soul, what I feel for you. Her leaving me at the altar is the second best thing to ever happen to me.”

  “What—what’s the first?” Her legs tangled around his thighs as she raised her buttocks to meet his downward plunge.

  He lay halfway inside her, fighting the need to bury himself and begin some serious thrusting in and out, but he wanted to make sure that she heard every word he was about to utter. He cradled her face in his hands and stared into her eyes. “You, cara. You are the utmost best God has ever—will ever bestow on me, and I’m smart enough to know that I need to cherish you, protect you, and honor you with every beat of my heart, every fiber of my being. I swear as I kneel over you, half buried inside you that I am yours now and forever. When I promised to protect you, it wasn’t just from the threat in New York. It was from everyone on this planet, including Claire or any of my other exes who might foolishly think they still have a chance with me. They don’t. We’re not temporary, baby. We’re permanent.”

  Tears gathered in her eyes. “Are you saying—”

  “I’m saying… Dear God,” Adam hissed as her muscles squeezed him. “I’m saying that I love you, Tashi Evelyn Holland Andreas. I love you.” He pulled way out and sank into her, feeling her velvet walls spread with a bit of resistance that only increased the friction between them.

  “Oh, Adam, I love you, too. I love you so much.” Her arms tightened around his neck and her legs around his waist.

  “Then let’s seal our love, darling,” he whispered, easing back, leaving only the head nestled in her moist heat. “Tell me you love me again. Pledge yourself to me forever,” he whispered.

  “I love you, Adamo Alessandro Andreas.” Tashi moaned as he sank partially into her and stayed there. Her muscles clutched at him.

  “And?”

  Tashi choked on a soft sob. “And I will never feel insecure again.”

  “Sei amato. Say, ‘Sono amata’! I’m loved.” He still didn’t move.

  “Sono amata. Sono amata, Adamo,” she said with an ultra sensuality that rocked Adam’s heart and soul and mind to the core.

  Her hypnotic emerald eyes sparkled, and as she gazed up at him with and love and surrender, Adam pushed through her tight heat until he felt the tip of his cock hit bottom. He stayed there for a moment, savoring the feel of being sheathed in hot honey. But she wasn’t having it. She squeezed her legs against his sides tightening her muscles and increasing the fiery friction as she began to move beneath him, raising her hips, pulling him in, daring him to hold back, and as her tight muscles began to work their lustful magic on him, she pulled his head down and thrust her tongue inside his mouth.

  Adam knew he wouldn’t last long. He grabbed her hands from around his neck and pressed them into the lounge.

  He began to thrust wildly, his buttocks tightening, his hips bucking as their damp bodies slapped together, and their tongues matched the thrusting tempo of their hips. Her velvet muscles gripped him fiercely, trapping him inside her, forbidding his to leave her snug channel as he retreated, but as he pushed forward again, she parted and welcomed him, welcomed the vigor and strength and pleasure of his thrusts.

  He was out of control. Lost. With one course in mind. Release. No other woman had ever done that to him. He had always been the one in control. The fiery feel of her was driving him mad with lust, and love and passion. His back stiffened as a distinct bolt of lightning ripped through his pumping body and churned in his groin. He tightened his hold on Tashi’s hands and pressed them harder into the cushion of the lounge. His lungs constricted. He clenched his teeth, trying to capture the electrifying moment, fighting the flames that threatened to incinerate him.

  “No…. No…” he groaned in a continual sensual protest, even as he hammered fiercely into her, even as his tears wet her throat, even as the sweet agony threatened to rip him apart.

  “Yes…” Tashi demanded against his ears, opening wider, arching higher to meet each of his powerful downward strokes. He had driven her to the edge of passion’s uttermost summit. But she wanted him to surrender to her, first. Her hands were still captured above her head, but Tashi locked her lower body to his, sealing their wet skins together, and tightened all her muscles securely around the hardness of him. “Scopami di brutto, Adamo! Scopami!”

  On that lubricious command, a harsh sound rumbled through the air as the liquid dam of fire broke, plunging Adam into the consuming heat. Three more deep thrusts, and he erupted into Tashi’s womb.

  With a triumphant moan, Tashi followed him into the blazing pit of ecstasy.

  For long moments, their harsh groans and the heavy sounds of labored breathing could be heard above the gushing waterfalls. It was a long while before their heartbeats returned to a steady pace, before their bodies were quiet again. Tashi’s knees were slightly bent, her feet resting on his legs. And Adam lay exhausted and helpless within the cradle of her thighs.

  Tashi had a satisfied smile on her face as she stroked his slick back and felt the tense muscles slowly relax under her fingers. She relished the feel of his weight, and the final pulsing of his semi-hard ambassador inside her. He never ever went completely limp after a climax. It brought her a sense of power. She was still smiling when Adam eventually lifted his head from her throat and looked directly into her eyes.

  “You are a wicked woman, Tashi Andreas. A real nymphet,” he said in a slurred, rough voice. His azure eyes were glazed with lingering passion. He brushed her damp hair back from her face then kissed her lips tenderly and sweetly. “Where did you learn that Italian phrase?”

  She chuckled, making her muscles tighten around him. “Shania taught it to me.”

  “I’m having a word with my cousin about his wife corrupting mine. And I don’t think I want you playing with those bad wives again.”

  Tashi felt a distinct feminine glow light her heart as she held his hair back from his face. “Why, because I made you lose control? Now you know what it feels like.” She chuckled mischievously. “What happened to all that talk about breathing and holding and controlling?”

  “The night isn’t over yet,” he threatened.

  “I would hope not. You wouldn’t want to ruin your infamous reputation for keeping control.”

  Adam’s lips ruffled temptingly as his fingers brushed the curls at her hairline. “I think I lost control the day I met you, cara. I just didn’t like admitting it.”

  His eyes probed intimately into hers, and Tashi felt a new warmth circulating in her lower stomach. That fierce explosion had left her hungry for more. She had asserted all her energies to giving him pleasure, to making him yield to her. And it felt wonderful to know that she had the power to break him, even though her inner and outer muscles ached from his rough demands.

  But the feminine side of her longed for a different kind of
pleasure. One that was slow, and sweet and drugging. She needed that, too. She stirred restlessly beneath him.

  “I’m too heavy for you,” he grumbled.

  Tashi winced as Adam slid out and off her.

  He lay on his side, resting his head on his arm.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked, stroking her fingers up and down his arms.

  “I had a heavy luncheon meeting. Maybe later.” He trailed his fingertips across her stomach, lightly and intimately.

  “Me, too, with the girls. But I have freshly shucked oysters.”

  “Your shucked oyster is the only kind I’m sucking juices from tonight.” His warm hypnotic gaze probed her deeply.

  Tashi flushed and trembled from the intensity of his gaze and the evening air cooling her damp skin.

  “Are you cold?” he asked.

  “It’s a little chilly now that the sun has gone down.”

  “Let’s head inside. I need room for what I’m going to do to you next, anyway.” He scooped her up in one fluid motion and carried her up the steps of the podium and into the bedroom. He placed her gently on the bed and came down beside her. “You promised to come for me, over and over again tonight, and I’m holding you to that promise.”

  She delivered.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Jake Fletcher tightened his jaw as he walked briskly down East 39th Street in Upper Manhattan. He was being tailed—for the second day—and the idiot following him either wanted him to know, or he was an amateur on his first surveillance job. A five-year-old would have made this guy in ten minutes. Jake doubted it was one of Boris’ men. They were too well trained to be this obvious.

  Or perhaps Boris was messing with his head, letting him know that he was watching him, especially when they were a week away from making their first shipment of girls after several months of inactivity. After that shoot-out a year and a half ago on the upper end of the island, Boris, a wannabe Russian mobster had been forced to halt his family-run human trafficking operation.

  Boris was back in business, and seeking revenge for the money and the crew he’d lost—two brothers, an aunt and an uncle, three nephews, and a cousin—manpower Jake and a few other newbies had replaced. Boris had been searching for the man responsible for their deaths, but most diligently for the girl he blamed for all his troubles. Jake knew it was only a matter of time before he found her. Boris had plans for her—personal sadistic plans, before he shipped her off to the worst whorehouse in Russia.

  She would have been better off in Sheikh Armad’s palace harem.

  Hastening his steps, Jake took a left on to Lexington Avenue. Half a block down, he ducked into a familiar bagel shop and headed for the restrooms. The breakfast rush was over and it was too early for lunch, so the place was deserted. He tried the door to the one marked ‘Women’ and finding it unlocked and unoccupied, he stepped inside and left the door a fraction opened. He peeped into the semi-dark hallway and just as he’d expected, a few seconds later, his tail passed by and went into the men’s room.

  In a flash, Jake was out of the ladies’ room, and in the men’s. He grabbed the man from behind, slammed his face into the wall and patted him down. Satisfied that he was unarmed, he wrestled his hands behind his back with one hand, and pressed the barrel of his Glock into his neck with the other.

  “Who are you, and why are you following me?” he growled, putting pressure on his lock. The man was about six feet, a couple inches shorter than Jake, and muscular to boot, but Jake was confident that he could hold him.

  “It’s not what you think,” the man said. “I have a message for you. Someone you know asked me to deliver it.”

  “Who?” Jake barked, not easing his hold.

  “I can’t say his name, man. The walls have ears.”

  Jake stiffened. Could someone in the agency be trying to warn him about impending trouble or changes? Boris’ business was small and still in its early stages of operation—which worked well in Jake’s favor. The FBI was determined to purge it before it festered to inflict more pain and damage on innocent victims. To that end, Jake had gone deep undercover after that fatal night a year and a half ago—the night Paul Dawson died.

  “Listen man, I’m not here to hurt you.”

  Jake scoffed. “Like you could.”

  “If you look in my left back pocket, you’ll find an envelope addressed to you. It was delivered to my place of business two days ago.”

  “What kind of business is that? What kind?” he demanded, when the man hesitated.

  “Check-cashing! I run a check-cashing business.”

  “Is it legit?”

  “Yes. I swear.”

  Jake smirked as he felt the man tremble under his hold. His decision whether or not to investigate the claim that his business was legitimate would be determined by the nature of the message he delivered.

  “If you twitch as much as a muscle, I’ll put a hole in your neck.” Jake released the man’s hands and pulled a white envelope from his left back pocket. He ripped it open with his teeth and fingers. A return envelope and a note were inside. Jake read: Package arrived in mint condition. Have taken action to make permanent. Are flies buzzing?

  Jake grunted. “Okay, you’re good.” He pulled his weapon from the man’s neck and holstered it.

  “Is—is it bad news?” The man turned around, his hands in the air.

  “Depends on how you look at it. Put your hands down.” He scratched his heavily bearded face. He’d been itching a lot lately. He didn’t know if it was a psychological premonition or just a physical irritation, perhaps a little of both. “You friends with the sender?”

  The man shrugged. “Not really, but when he and his buddies say dig, I ask how deep.”

  Jake leaned against the wall, chuckling. “They do have a way with people. How did you find me?”

  “They gave me a name and told me to find you.”

  Yeah, they would know how to find him discreetly. Paul had shared a lot with them. Maybe too much.

  “I staked out your apartment and began following you yesterday.”

  “I knew the second you began following me. You’re not good.”

  “Oh, I am,” the man said with a touch of pride and dignity. “But they told me to be sloppy and not to approach you, but to wait for you to go on the defense and only to talk with you in private.”

  They would make excellent FBI and CIA spies. “Do you know what’s in the note?” Jake narrowed his eye, rubbing at his beard again.

  “No. It was sealed when it was delivered.”

  “Good. I’m happy I don’t have to kill you. Jake pulled a pen from his pocket, and turning his back, he ripped off the blank bottom part from his note, scribbled something on it, sealed it in the unaddressed return envelope, and turned to the man. “Now, you deliver this. Make sure it gets out today.” He wasn’t about to ask how it would happen because the less he knew, the better off all involved were.

  The man folded the envelope and pushed it into his pocket, then just stood there and stared at Jake with uncertainty in his eyes.

  “What you waiting for?” Jake barked, wondering which one of the men held the leash around this dog’s neck. “Well, go on. Get out of here. I don’t know you. You don’t know me. We never met.”

  As the man scampered out, Jake ripped the note into shreds, balled the pieces in his fist and held his hand under the faucet. Once the pieces became a ball of pulp, he flushed it down the nearest bowl and left the bathroom.

  So the girl was safe and still off the radar, he thought as he walked up to the bar and ordered a bagel and an ice coffee to go. She was tough to have survived, and clever to have found her ally all on her own. Jake couldn’t help but smile. Paul would have been proud of her.

  Taking Boris down and out was the only way to ensure her continued safety, but the problem was that he had no idea who Boris was. He was a shadow, a disguised voice, and a name, that probably wasn’t even real. It was a difficult mission, but not impossible.
Sooner or later, Boris’ hatred for the girl would cause him to make a mistake. Revenge was indeed a bitch. And she was going to take a huge bite out of Boris Sokolov’s Russian ass.

  ***

  Adam flipped through the photos on the retractable projector screen suspended from the ceiling in his office at A.I. The renovations for turning an old Japanese hotel into a new Hotel Andreas were temporarily halted due to an electrical fire that damaged the main and first floors, setting him back a few months. He probably would have suffered a much greater loss if it weren’t for the fact that the hotel was situated in the vicinity of the Imperial Palace, which inadvertently sent the fire department into a panic to control the flames. Luckily, the fire happened at night when the workers had already left or he would have been looking at a much bigger problem.

  Shutting off the projector, he pushed to his feet and crossed over to the bar. He poured himself a scotch and walked to the wall overlooking Crystal Lake, the mountains, and gray skies that fit his mood perfectly. A concerned CEO would have been on the first jet to Tokyo after receiving the news, but for the present, Adam was more of a concerned husband than a CEO. He’d had to explain his reason for not leaving the country and Granite Falls—for that matter—to his father.

  Adam raised his glass to his lips. His father had predictably gone into a long tirade about why he wasn’t informed about, and present at his only son’s marriage ceremony. Adam hadn’t held anything back, and as he’d expected, his father had understood, and furthermore offered to travel to Tokyo to take care of the situation. Knowing that his mother would be on his doorstep the moment she heard the news of his marriage, Adam had asked his father not to share it with her, yet. Her presence in Granite Falls would just complicate the problem. He didn’t know who these people were and didn’t want to make another Andreas accessible for any ruthless plans they might be cooking up. The only person he wanted to worry about keeping safe right now was Tashi.