Desired (Miranda's Chronicles Book 1)

by Anna Jeffrey

  Mental eye roll. I had lived in Fort Worth ten years and knew the city well. I drove all over everywhere alone and unescorted, but I smiled and nodded.

  He poked his head through the window and tenderly kissed me. “Stop worrying. Everything’s okay.”

  “I know.”

  “Be careful driving.” He kissed me again, then stood back and watched me back out.

  I drove up the ramp to the exit and sat waiting for the electronic gate to open. That inner voice couldn’t resist taking advantage of the silence. This is bad. As bad as a college hookup, which you said you would never do again.

  The short trip across the city gave the time for me to compose myself. It also gave that protective inner voice more time to lecture me….Are you cheap or what?….You’re doing this for a meal?

  “I haven’t eaten since this morning,” I mumbled under my breath, watching Tack Tackett’s rental car headlights in my rearview mirror.

  You can’t afford to buy your own supper? This can’t go anywhere. Why don’t you just go home? You have to get up early tomorrow, dress and come back to the open house by noon. You’re causing yourself unnecessary inconvenience. And there’s no one to feed Miss Kitty.

  I refused to listen. I enjoyed attention from a sexy, good-looking male. Other than a handshake, I hadn’t felt a man’s touch in more months than I could count and I had been in a state of lust for it all-day. For some reason, my body had chosen this man over others, even if it was only for a one-night-stand.

  Maybe my subconscious was at work. Maybe deep down, a “hookup” was all I wanted. Like him, I didn’t have the time for anything more and I didn’t want the hassle of having a demanding man in my life. Been there, done that.

  Besides, my car was on autopilot. It didn’t want to change directions.

  Fifteen minutes later, I parked in a slot in the Hilton’s parking lot. He came to my door, offered his hand and assisted me out of the car. “I look terrible,” I said. “I hope no one I know sees me.”

  He placed his hand on the small of my back and urged me along. “You look like you just had a helluva good time. But that’s only for me to know and others to wonder about.”

  I gave him a pointed look over my shoulder. “Seriously?”

  We reached the entrance to the hotel and started across the lobby toward the elevators. The lower two floors were familiar. I had been here a few times for various parties and events. Formerly the Hotel Texas, the old building had been remodeled and updated by Hilton, but it still had an historic air about it. People who had been around downtown Fort Worth years back had told me that much of its original appearance remained.

  With it being the dinner hour, the lobby teemed with milling people. I was certain every visible person on the lower floor stared at us and knew what we were up to. My heart drummed a steady tattoo inside my ears. I prattled aimlessly, trying to show nonchalance I didn’t feel. “Did you know this hotel is where JFK spent his last night on earth? He and Jackie slept in an executive suite the night before they flew to his doom in Dallas.”

  “I did know that, but that’s not why I picked it. There’s a Ruth’s Chris steakhouse here and I’m in the mood for a good steak. You like steak, don’t you?”

  And what if I didn’t?

  I was starting to realize one thing about Tack Tackett. He didn’t debate or discuss. Whether the reason was because he had a touch of OCD or something darker, I hadn’t yet figured out.

  “I’m a total carnivore,” I answered.

  “Good. I like a woman who’s willing to kill to eat.”

  I glowered up at him. “What?”

  He squeezed my side and gave me a wink. “I’m kidding, baby, I’m kidding. My corny jokes are supposed to make you chill out a little.”

  As the elevator door glided shut, he pressed the button for the twelfth floor and the car lifted off. He took my hand and interlocked our fingers. Only the two of us being in the elevator was a good thing. So much anticipation and sexual tension charged the air around us, sparks could start flying any minute. With great effort, I settled my mind on the fact that I had never been above this hotel’s lower two floors.

  “You’re too quiet,” he said.

  I might have suddenly lost my voice, but my nerves were jangling like a dinner bell. The closer we got to our destination, the worse the anxiety got. My good-girl persona didn’t want to face why I was here. I wished I could blame it on alcohol, but I hadn’t had a drop. “I, uh…I’m fine.”

  “Look at me,” he said and I looked up into his eyes. “You can still chicken out.”

  No! I want this. He had given me a taste of how sex could be and I was hooked. I inhaled deeply and willed myself to try to relax. “I don’t want to.”

  “Thank God.” One side of his mouth turned up in that smirky grin. “Because baby, if you walked off, I think I’d break down and cry.”

  Then, four doors up the hall from the bank of elevators, we were at the door to his room. He unlocked it with his key card and stood back for me to enter a richly decorated sanctum that looked huge even though furnished with two king-size beds. He no sooner shut the door before I kicked off my shoes and we went at each other, mouths plundering, breaths soughing, his arms holding my body tightly against his, his hands kneading my bottom.

  We parted long enough for my blazer and blouse to disappear. “I should let you know I’ve never been very lucky at sex,” I said breathily, as I fumbled to unhook the last of his shirt buttons.

  He whipped off his shirt and tossed it onto a chair. “What’s luck got to do with it?”

  His arms slid around my hips and he gripped my bottom, lifted me off the floor and lugged me to the edge of the nearest king-size bed. Reaching down with one hand, he threw back a thick duvet and deposited me on the sheets. He clicked on the lamp, shedding amber light across the room.

  I quickly sat up, my greedy gaze locked on his honed biceps and sculpted chest, tanned and glowing golden in the room’s low light. My elevator assessment hadn’t been wrong. His body was even more beautiful than I had imagined.

  His smoldering eyes burned into mine. He bent over, hopping on one foot, then the other, prying off his boots and stripping his socks, his arm and chest muscles rippling with his movements.

  He straightened, removed his watch and laid it on the bedside table. Then he pulled a black wallet from his back pocket, dug out foil packages—I couldn’t see how many—and dropped them and the wallet on the table. Thank God he had condoms because I had none. Some of my girlfriends carried them in their purses, but I did not. Why would I? Unplanned sex—or for that matter, sex of any kind—wasn’t routine for me.

  With no hesitation, he unbuckled his belt, shucked his jeans and tossed them to the side. A gray knit tent hugged his manly shape in the front of his boxer briefs.

  My mouth went dry and I swallowed hard. That will not fit, my inner voice told me.

  He sank to the edge of the mattress opposite me. The knit tent stood like a column between us. Surely his erection couldn’t be as enormous as it appeared.

  “You’re wearing too many clothes.” He reached out and tugged my cami’s spaghetti straps down, but couldn’t drag the skin-tight Spandex past my breasts. For a few seconds, he stared at the lacy garment. “Jesus, this thing’s worse than a suit of armor.”

  “Just a minute.” I quickly pulled the straps back up on my shoulders, crossed my arms, grabbed the hem and pulled the obstructive garment over my head, baring my upper body. My breasts were larger than most women’s of my stature and I was happy to say, they didn’t sag. They trilled at being freed after being bound all day and my nipples instantly peaked.

  Before I could lower my arms, he made a guttural sound, grasped my elbows and shoved them above my head against the headboard. “Christ, Miranda, I’ve never wanted a woman as much as I want you.”

  Before I could say a word, he leaned into me, claimed my mouth and filled it with his tongue. I was still hanging onto the camisole. It
slid from my fingers and I neither knew nor cared where it landed.

  His tongue explored every part of my mouth. When we parted for breath, he still held both of my wrists in a vise-like, one-handed grip against the headboard. With the other, he cupped one breast in his palm and gently lifted it, brushed my firm nipple with his thumb. “I knew your breasts would be beautiful.” He looked up into my eyes. “But you shouldn’t wear that thing. It’s too tight. It’s left imprints on your skin.” His fingers lightly moved over my breast. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

  For the second time he had remarked about my comfort, but I had no interest in how tightly that cami fit. “I don’t notice,” I murmured, lost in the feel of his fingers on my skin and the distant quickening that had started between my thighs.

  He pressed his nose against my underarm and inhaled deeply. Then he licked me. Licked me! Little prickles pinged through my body and a silent O formed on my lips.

  His mouth moved over and he drew the flesh of my breast into wet, wonderful warmth and I shivered. He tenderly licked, gently sucked. The deep tingle inside my sex had become a drumbeat. I wanted badly to touch him, to comb my fingers through his soft hair. I flexed my captured hands. “Let me go.…”

  “Not yet.” He pulled back and watched himself roll my nipple between his thumb and fingers, plucking and molding until the rosy nub was outrageously extended. “Amazing,” he mumbled. “Will this make you come?”

  After multiple stupefying orgasms on the sofa back at Skyline, if he had asked me if I was ready for another, I might have said no, but with his hand owning and caressing every part of my breasts in places I hadn’t even known were so sensitive and sending current straight to my core, another climax was all I could think of. And I was growing edgier by the minute. “I don’t know,” I breathed.

  “Let’s see…”

  He ducked his head, took my nipple into his mouth again and tongued it madly. His fingers tugged my opposite nipple, then firmly squeezed. At the same time, he pressed the sensitive nub firmly against the roof of his mouth and sucked it hard, only just bordering on causing pain. A sweet pleasure-pain zinged straight to my clitoris and a mini-orgasm hit me unexpectedly. My sex clenched against a profound hollowness and I let out a little cry. I squirmed and flexed my hands. “Please,” I panted. “Let me go…”

  He released my wrists and my nipple with an imagined small pop, licked into my mouth and enveloped me in an embrace, pressing my bare breasts against the hard wall of his furry chest. I clung to him, waiting for the trembling inside me to wane.

  “I didn’t—I didn’t think I—I could do that again,” I stammered. “That was crazy.”

  He chuckled softly, his breath brushing my temple. “A dozen times, remember?”

  He held me close, his nose buried against my neck, one arm tightly around me, the other clasping my nape while he cooed sexy, calming words. He soon sat back and straightened, looking at my chest with a solemn expression. He had made both nipples red and wet, stretched and incredibly firm. “Beautiful,” he said, as if he were proud of his handiwork. “But you’re still wearing too many clothes.”

  With a strong arm around me, he pushed me down against the pillows and stretched out alongside me. His hand moved around and behind me, finding my skirt button and zipper and undoing them. He rolled me and lifted me and soon had my skirt and my half-slip off, leaving me wearing nothing but my black bikini panties and my gray stockings. “Sexy,” he mumbled. “This is what I wanted back at Skyline.”

  His fingers eased under the damp elastic top of my stocking. He carefully peeled it down and off, then moved to the other one. As his fingers trailed back up my leg, his tongue flicked a path down my middle. In seconds, he had caught the elastic waistband of my panties with his fingers and just like that, I was naked and at his mercy. A new surge of adrenaline bombarded my system.

  He crawled over me, kneeing my legs apart. Instinctively, I accommodated him. His elbows flanked my shoulders supporting his weight. The knit fabric of his shorts that covered his erection didn’t hide how hard and hot it felt against my naked sex. I slid my arms around his middle and my legs around his hips, bringing his hard penis even closer to where I wanted it. “I feel so empty,” I whimpered.

  “I know,” he said softly. “I’ve got a remedy for that.”

  His hands clasped my head, holding it still as he continued to kiss me. His lips molded my mouth to his, his teeth nipped, his tongue dueled with mine. He was an incredible kisser. I moaned into his mouth, grinding my sex against him. His mouth soon tore away and trailed down, nuzzled my breasts. My nipples were still swollen and tender and I made a small sound.

  “Did I make you sore?”

  I had no intention of complaining. “I’m okay.”

  He moved his mouth on down my middle, kissing and licking. “Mmm, your skin’s so soft….It smells like flowers…”

  Thank the Lord for lavender body wash.

  The tip of his tongue dipped into my navel. On a hum, I lifted my stomach to him and he took full advantage, biting and licking and sucking bites of me into his mouth. I vaguely pictured my pale stomach covered with purple hickeys, but so what? No one would see them and what he was doing felt too good to bring it to a halt.

  He scooted on down, his lips moving over my belly. “I’m going to tongue-fuck you,” he whispered….

  This is where I want to put my tongue. Think about it.…

  Oh, my God. He meant that.

  Desire swept through me. Even so, I was a little scared. No man had ever done that to me or for me. Sex with the only lover with whom I had ever had a real relationship had hardly been raw and dirty. Donald had been repulsed by the very idea of his face between my thighs. Though I had been on the pill during the time we were together, he had used condoms because they made intercourse less messy.

  Before I could make a decision whether to let Tack go on, he eased my knee up. All at once, I thought of how I must smell after being hot and wet most of the day. I tried to move my knee and shift away from him. “Wait, Tack. Don’t…no…you shouldn’t—”

  His hand tightened on my knee. “Why not?”

  I was totally vulnerable. And I was beside myself. I shook my head. “You don’t know me….It—it was early this morning when I showered and—”

  “I’m not worried about that….I do know you…” He pushed my knee to the side and my sex opened.

  “It’s more than that….I haven’t…no one’s ever…”

  “Just don’t stop me…”

  With a sigh, I closed my eyes and surrendered. I wanted this. And even if I didn’t, at this point, did I have a choice?

  He took his slow and easy time with lush, open-mouthed kisses and nips with his teeth and little sucks along my inner thigh. I rewarded him with huge sighs and tiny moans. After he had thoroughly kissed one thigh, he moved to the other.

  Then I felt his fingers stroking my labia. I came up on my elbows to see my thighs wide open and him watching his fingers. Seeing and feeling sent a new surge of adrenaline through me, but my cheeks flamed. “Tack, this is embarrassing me….God….You shouldn’t…”

  His fingers stilled. He looked up at me, his eyes ablaze. “You’re beautiful here, too, you know.…” His head lowered and his mouth moved over my vulva, his heavy breath gusting warm against my wetness. “A dozen times. Remember?”

  My own breath was coming fast and shallow. “But I don’t expect—I didn’t think…you meant it.”

  “A promise like that…I mean it….”

  Before I could raise another point, he licked into my sex. Like an electrical shock, sensation zinged all the way to my toes. A delicious and unrelenting clenching set off inside my vagina. I gasped and fell back against the pillows.

  He draped my knees over his shoulders, slid his hands under my bottom and lifted me to his mouth.

  He sucked my fevered labia, one side, and then the other. His wicked tongue parted my sensitized deeper layers and licked each one. Oh, he was a
n expert with his mouth at far more than kissing. All the while he ate at me, he groaned softly. That maddening build-up was going on low in my belly. I writhed. My hips undulated shamelessly. Sounds I didn’t recognize crawled out of my throat.

  “Hold still,” he mumbled against my sex.

  “I can’t. You’re driving me crazy.”

  Then he touched one side of my clitoris with his tongue. My sex clenched, my breath caught. “Oh!” I cried.

  The greedy little bud strained forward, desperate for his attention. Just an inch or two to the left. That’s all it would take. I struggled to sit up, but couldn’t. “Tack,” I panted. “I need…please….I need…”

  “Impatient girl,” he mumbled. “Begging me…”

  I was lost in a sea of sensation. My blood was simmering in my veins. He found the other side of my clitoris with his tongue, but still left the tiny kernel desperately needing. “Tack, pleeeze…”

  Instead of giving me what I begged for, his nose moved down the length of my sex. His tongue found my quivering opening and slid inside me.

  A spume of new pure pleasure as I had never known it coursed through me and I moaned. My hungry vaginal muscles clutched at the invading organ, trying to draw it deeper. He suckled and licked, his tongue speared in and out, the shallow penetration not nearly enough to please the needy slut I had become. I keened, I panted. My fingers clawed at the sheets. “Ooh,..Ooh… oooh, no, don’t…Oh, God, don’t stop…”

  Everything below my navel was in chaos. My sex was clenching, my clitoris was throbbing, both frantic for his attention. I thrust my hands between my knees, gripped a double fistful of his soft hair and tried to maneuver his mouth to where I wanted it the most. My pleas became chants. “Tack…Please, Tack…oh, Tack….Tack, do something…”

  When his tongue pulled out of me, I keened in protest.

  His fingers quickly replaced his tongue and instantly found BOB’s spot deep inside me. I gasped out.

  His fingers worked in and out and at the same time, his tongue found my clitoris again, lapped and lashed. The flames of desire licked at me. “That’s it…oh, yes, that’s it….Oh, Tack, please…”