A Sweet Life-kindle

by Andre, Bella

  With a single thrust, Logan parted her lips and hungrily plundered every last crevice, over and over again, melding their mouths together in a fusion of desire and need. He became ruthless in his victory, demanding every response she had to give.

  Her senses were overpowered by the scent of brandy on his breath, the musk and soap from his skin, the dark heady taste of raw male hunger. His teeth tugged gently on her lower lip, then bathed the flesh with his tongue. With a low moan, she reached up and plunged all ten fingers into her sable strands of hair.

  One hand shot out to hold her still as he led her in a game of attack and retreat. His tongue led a teasing dance and urged her to play. She gripped his shoulders and tried to drag him closer to her arching body.

  He gave a low laugh and dropped tiny kisses along her jaw, down her neck, the hollow of her throat. “Tell me what you want.” His hand cupped her breast and teased her nipple through the thin silk.

  She struggled for breath. “I want you to touch me.”

  “I am touching you,” he murmured. His teeth nipped at her shoulder while his fingers plucked at the hard crest.

  “No, under my dress. Take it off.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Deftly, he undid the buttons and pulled it over her shoulders. His eyes burned hotly over the lacy scrap of bra that revealed more than it concealed, before he snapped open the clasp.

  Cool air rushed against her skin as she was bared to his sight. Shyness overcame her, but the look in his eyes made her flush with pleasure, knowing he wanted her, knowing she pleased him.

  “God, you’re more lovely than I remember.” He worshiped the creaminess of her skin with his gaze and his hands. “You’ll see how good it can be, Chandler. Only with me. Then you’ll know we were meant to be together.” His words made a throbbing need pound between her thighs, and she curled her nails into the hard muscles of his shoulders.

  His mouth lowered to one breast, his breath warm on her skin. A whimper caught in her throat as she arched upward and begged for more. His lips rubbed over the hard peak, back and forth, the slight scratchy feel from his five o’clock shadow a delicious contrast to the softness of his lips.

  He suckled gently, then scraped his teeth across the hard nub. Liquid heat coursed through her body and her fingers clenched in his hair, urging him on, frantic with need.

  She tugged at the buttons of his shirt and tossed it aside. Her hands ran over his broad chest and reveled in the hard, lean muscles rippling under her palms, the crisp dark hairs that swirled in an intriguing pattern and disappeared into the waistband of his slacks. A long stream of words escaped his lips, either a curse or a prayer, and she let her fingers trail down his chest to trace the edge of his slacks. Then lingered.

  Slowly, she let her hands drift downward, testing the hardness of his arousal, the raw strength and masculine power pulsing beneath her fingers. His stomach muscles clenched under her touch.

  Chandler looked up and watched his face. His eyes were half closed as he fought for control; his gun-metal gray gaze glittered with blistering, male need as she wrapped her hands around him.

  Carefully, she squeezed.

  With a muttered groan, he lifted her off his thighs and turned her so that her back pressed against his chest and his hips cradled her buttocks, spooning her. She reached back and gripped his thighs for balance, and he chuckled when she tried to twist back around.

  “Oh, no you don’t, you little witch. I haven’t waited this long so you could push me over the edge in a few minutes.”

  “But I want to touch you,” she insisted. “I want to make you feel the way I do when you open your mouth on my breasts, and touch my skin.”

  “And how does that make you feel?” he asked.

  She paused. “Hot. Tingly. Like I want—“

  “More?”

  Embarrassment coursed through her. She was bound to disappoint him. Michael termed her a terrible lover, and she’d never achieved an orgasm. She didn’t like the pain, but if she could get more of the foreplay it was worth it. She could always fake a climax. Didn’t women do that all the time? And maybe he’d cuddle with her afterward. The thought of lying next to him, skin to skin, was worth everything.

  He stilled beneath her. “Chandler, have you ever had an orgasm?”

  Oh. My. God. She officially wanted to die. Her initial lust faded and she scrambled to get off his lap and end the humiliation before there was nothing left. “I’m sorry, this was a mistake. I have to go.”

  His arm was an iron band around her waist. “Baby, you’re not going anywhere. I don’t want any barriers between us so I need you to be honest with me. Are you a virgin?”

  She stiffened. “No. I don’t want to talk about this. Let me up.”

  “No.” He pushed back her hair with gentle fingers. Warm breath brushed against her ear as he bestowed light kisses down her cheek. “You were involved with assholes who only cared about their own pleasure. And I’m glad.” HIs voice poured over her like melted caramel and wrapped her in a cocoon of warmth. His hands moved over her breasts and squeezed. “I’m glad because I want to be the one to make you come. And I will. Now close your eyes and relax. Let me show you.”

  He nibbled on her neck, tiny nips that shot tingles to every nerve ending. Her skin grew sensitized to every slide and stroke of his tongue and caress of his fingers. He plucked at her nipples, then soothed with his thumb. She gripped at his thighs as the tension grew, and a low moan of frustration escaped her lips. He moved lower, stroking down her stomach, inner thighs, and hit the barrier of pale pink lace. She struggled for breath when his thumb traced the line of her panties. All her concentration focused on those five fingers and the demanding throb between her legs.

  “Logan?”

  “You are so gorgeous. I can’t wait to spend hours just looking at you.” Her natural shyness caved beneath the raw lust in his voice, and her mind shut down for a permanent vacation. His palm settled over her center and he lightly massaged her tender flesh, but never enough to satisfy. She moaned long and low. “But right now I want to play. Does this feel good?”

  Her voice came out ragged. “Yes.”

  “And this?” He squeezed her nipples and pleasure pain ripped through her. He rotated his hand, dragging the lacy fabric back and forth, scraping against her sensitive clit until her heart pounded and her blood roared, and she thought she’d die of pleasure if he kept going. “Oh, God, yes.”

  “Open your legs for me, ” he muttered darkly in her ear. Her thighs parted, and one finger slipped under the elastic. She clenched around the invasion, amazed at how slow, and hot, and sweet he tested her. Where was the fumbling and speed she’d expected? This was like a gorgeous ballet, orchestrated to bring the most of her responses. Her blood thickened with each delicious stroke of that magic finger, and then with a low murmur, he added another.

  Her head fell back over his arm. Her hips bowed up for more but he was in perfect control, allowing only a teasing light touch over the pulsing bud that demanded attention. His teeth nipped at her earlobe, his thumb worked her tight nipples, and Chandler paused at the edge of a high cliff, held there mercilessly by his competent fingers.

  “Logan!”

  “Yes, baby. Yes. Just a little more.” Stretching her wet, pulsing channel, he played gently and circled his thumb over her clit. With each swipe, she thrashed her head at the exquisite tension. Each muscle tightened as she reached for more. Slowly, he rubbed back and forth, increasing the pressure, until she gave up and gave him everything she had.

  She screamed as convulsions wracked her body and pushed her over the edge. For one single moment in time she flew through space in a channel of pure pleasure. Mini convulsions shook through her as the orgasm tossed her past safety barriers and into the deep. As she floated she was aware of the soothing words whispered in her ear, the arm that anchored her against his chest, the hand that now lovingly stroked her thigh. She relaxed into his body, trusting his strength. After a while she realized h
e was holding himself in a muscle lock. His erection pressed against her buttocks. She waited for the next part, the quick tumble, and almost looked forward to it, but he remained still.

  “Logan?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “What about you?”

  She heard the smile behind his words when he spoke. “What about me?”

  Chandler turned her head. A faint blush rose to her cheeks. “Well, ummm, I thought we were going to, well, that is I thought you wanted to—” She bit her lip and tried to get the words out.

  “Make love to you?” he asked as he turned her body until she was facing him. His lips rubbed over hers, and he slipped his tongue inside to taste her. She welcomed him, their tongues playing with each other until they tired of the game and kissed hungrily. When he pulled away, he tipped her chin up and studied her face. “What I just did gave me more pleasure than you’ll ever know.” His thumb pressed over her swollen lips. “There’s nothing I want more than to carry you in the bedroom and make love all night long, until both of us don’t know where one begins and the other ends. But I want more. I want you to trust me. I want you to give yourself to me in every possible way, and I won’t settle for less. When I take you to bed there will be no Richard Thorne. No doubts. And no more running away.”

  The stark words hung in the air between them. She realized this was one of the strongest men she’d ever known. A surge of emotion caught her. He was a proud man who stood alone in the world, and a ruthless executive who made million dollar deals without breaking a sweat. Yet he chose to show her tenderness, unlike Michael who had told her he loved her, then treated her like a plaything for his own pleasure. Her initiation into sex had shown her none of the softer emotions she longed to receive as a woman from a lover. She’d decided such bliss mingled with magic existed only in her daydreams.

  Logan Grant showed her it was real.

  He gave her pleasure while denying himself. He held back when she was vulnerable, and chose to wait until he’d earned her trust. He gave her fair warning of his intentions, and even if he only wanted an affair, he wanted all of her for that period of time, demanding no less.

  Her emotions for Logan went deeper. She was falling in love with him, but if she gave herself tonight, she’d be lost. His emotions had nothing to do with love. When their affair was over, she’d have nothing left. He’d break her heart, and she’d be forced to dissolve their business contract, which would destroy the Yoga and Arts Center. She’d be back in the same position she was four years ago. With nothing.

  She wasn’t ready to take that kind of risk yet.

  He pulled her against him and held her close. “I didn’t tell you any of this to scare you.” He stroked her hair. “I wanted you to know where I stand.”

  “I always knew you were a bully,” she muttered into his chest.

  Logan chuckled. “And you, my little free spirit, are one of the most stubborn women I’ve ever met. Now, you’d better get dressed before all my good intentions go straight to hell.”

  Chandler quickly dressed, smiling when he distracted her to place a tender kiss in the valley of her breasts.

  He locked up his house and caught her watching him with a thoughtful expression. “What are you thinking about?”

  Chandler grinned. “I’ve come up with the perfect addition to my stress workshop.”

  He shook his head as they walked to the car. “Still thinking about work, hmmm? So, what’s the new idea?”

  As he reached down to unlock the passenger side door she stood on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. “Sex therapy. Guaranteed to reduce stress and tension in the most pleasurable of ways.”

  He was still chuckling when he dropped her off at her door.

  Chapter 7

  Chandler sipped her herbal tea and glanced around the overcrowded cafe. When Richard called asking to meet Sunday afternoon, she’d thought it was the perfect opportunity to talk about their relationship. She’d woken up with a sense of guilt. Somehow, even though Richard was the perfect mate, she didn’t love him. The night spent with Logan proved it. But she needed to tell Richard in person she only wanted friendship. He deserved to know the truth.

  “Chandler, how are you?”

  She looked up and smiled. He took off his fleece jacket and settled into the overstuffed chair. She admitted he looked as comfortable in the artsy coffee shop as he did in his office. The Hideaway Cafe boasted a large variety of teas, coffees, and desserts, and remained a favorite with the holistic health crowd. Copying from the Village atmosphere, large chairs and tables competed for space among sculptures, paintings, and plants. A popular meditation chant flowed from the speakers and soothed the ears. The menu was strictly vegetarian, and Chandler overheard a lively debate from her left, regarding the benefits of a vegan diet. Most of the patrons wore long, flowing clothes and had even longer hair. She wondered briefly what Logan would think of the place, then pushed the thought out of her mind. Richard ordered a ginger tea blend and studied her from across the table.

  “I’ve missed you,” he said. He reached for her hand and entwined his fingers with hers. She kept a smile on her face, but gently disengaged herself. A frown creased his brow at her action, but he didn’t say anything.

  “It’s good to see you, too,” she said.

  He looked amused. “Hmm, I get more enthusiasm from my dentist.”

  Chandler laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that.” She paused. “We need to talk.”

  “You’re right. I called because I want to ask you a question. An important question.”

  She shifted in her seat. “Okay. You go first.”

  He took her hand again, more firmly this time. “Since we’ve met I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. I enjoy your company. Besides having a good time, we have a lot in common. And I have feelings for you.” She opened her mouth to say something, but he stopped her. “No, let me finish. I’m getting older. I want to be with a woman who has the same goals. A woman who wants to have children, a family.”

  “Richard—”

  “I want you to marry me.”

  The sounds of a Chinese flute drifted across the room and filled the sudden silence at the table. Struggling for composure, she took a deep, cleansing breath. An odd urge came over her to laugh. The man across the table should be her soul mate. She should be overjoyed at finding someone so right, and accept his proposal. Damn Logan Grant for ruining it. Damn him for making her feel things she shouldn’t.

  “I’m honored,” she said softly. “It’s been a long time since I’ve met a man I can have a friendship with. But it’s not enough to base a marriage on.”

  “Friendship is the strongest foundation a couple has. The rest fades away.” He squeezed her hand. “Let me make you happy. I want to build a life with you.”

  Her lower lip trembled. “I don’t love you. I care about you, but not enough to get married. You’re my friend, but I—”

  “It’s Logan Grant.”

  She pulled back with surprise. “What?”

  He let out his breath and turned slightly away from her. “You’re having delusions about Grant. The sad part is I’ve seen this before. Many times.”

  A cold chill settled over her. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t you get it? He always has an agenda. He seduces women for two reasons: business and sportsmanship. With you, it’s probably for both.”

  She kept her face calm, but her stomach twisted into a knot of fear. “This has nothing to do with Logan.”

  “Oh, yes, it has everything to do with him. You know something? I’m tired of being the nice guy all the time. I thought you were a woman who could see past all that smoke Grant throws out, but I guess not. Do you think you can trust him?”

  “I—”

  “Because you can’t. The truth is, he personally warned me to stay away from you. When I told him our relationship was none of his business, he threatened my job.”

  She gasped. “He would nev
er do that. I know he likes to control people, but he lives by a code of ethics.”

  Richard laughed humorlessly. “Ethics, huh? He doesn’t care about truth or ethics unless they can get him what he wants. I’m worried about you. He’s after something, and you’re the target.”

  “That’s crazy. I don’t have anything except a yoga school.”

  “Then why did he order a dossier on you?”

  Iciness crept up her spine. The room swayed but she forced her voice to remain calm. “How do you know he ordered a dossier?”

  He sighed. “I went into his office to get something signed and found some papers with your name on them. I was curious, so I asked him. He told me not to worry about it. When he left, I went back and searched his desk. Those papers detailed the story of your life. Ordered straight from a private investigator.”

  The roar in her ears grew, but she fought it back. “Maybe it was just a background check. We do have a business contract.”

  Richard stared at her with cold eyes. “I do all the background checks. They’re one-page documents. They don’t detail what you ate for breakfast when you were five years old.”

  The truth slammed through her like a hurtling freight train. Richard was right. Dear God, if Logan had read about her past, that meant he knew about her father. Michael. Her father’s obsession with marriage.

  And his need to marry her off to a businessman.

  Goosebumps broke out over her arms. Their past encounter flashed before her mind. The total focus and concentration Logan was intent on giving her pleasure. The threats regarding Richard and Harry. His need to be the only man in her life.

  Now she knew why. He wanted to marry her to gain her father’s business. He was a professional, just like Michael was, and he wasn’t about to take any chances of her getting involved with another man. Logan didn’t want her. He wanted the money.

  When she looked back up from the table, Richard was regarding her intently. Concern shone in his chestnut brown eyes. Anger burned through her, pure and demanding. Last time she’d run away and started a new life. This time she’d track down Logan Grant and make him pay.