by Lexi C. Foss
No. Fucking. Way.
“That’s not fair,” I whispered. The pink-and-orange combination had looked ridiculous on the mannequin, yet it somehow worked on him. He tucked his hands into the pockets of the tight jeans and did a slow twirl that drew my attention to his fine ass. “I’m going to need you to stand just like that for at least ten minutes.”
He met my gaze in the mirror. “Turnabout is fair play, darlin’.”
I scanned his backside. Admiring this view in exchange for modeling lingerie in a similar fashion? “Worth it.” If I had my phone, I would have snapped a photo, but I left it at the hotel with my purse. The last thing I wanted was a way for Ryan to track me down.
Will must have sensed the turn in my thoughts, because he did a little jig that would have made me laugh if those jeans weren’t so damn tight. Instead, my throat went dry.
“You need to buy those.”
He snorted. “They’re impractical.”
“I wasn’t going to recommend you wear them while working in the vineyard, Mershano.”
That eyebrow went up. “Yeah? Come here for a second.”
“Uh, why?”
“I want to show you something.”
I so did not trust that innocent look or tone. He was up to something. I unfolded myself from the plush couch and moved to stand before him. Will asked the tailor for a glass of champagne in French, which I translated to mean he wanted a moment of privacy. The elder gentleman gave a nod and disappeared, leaving us alone in the dressing area.
“Take them off.” His deep baritone hit me in all the right places.
“Your jeans?” A stupid question. That’s obviously what he meant, but he couldn’t be serious. I took in his dilated pupils and expression and swallowed. Okay, yeah, he wasn’t teasing. “Here?” It came out in a whisper.
“Yes.” Still no hint of jest, and if the bulge growing beneath his zipper was anything to go by, he really did want me to remove his pants.
Not the place I expected this to happen, but the forbidden nature of his command sent a shiver of delight down my spine. A naked Will? Yes, please. I ran my hands up his thighs, loving the feel of his muscles bunching along the way. Heat radiated from him, emboldening my attentions. His hardening cock pulsed beneath my finger as I traced the impressive length up to the gold button. It flicked open with ease, and I drew the zipper down to reveal his navy briefs.
A glance down had me licking my lips. “I approve.” Especially since it was the pair I picked out with his clothes.
“Keep going.” Lust laced through his tone and darkened his gaze. He didn’t have to tell me twice. Except when I tried to push them down, they barely moved. I put more power into it and felt a surge of frustration when they still failed to cooperate.
“Problem?” he asked, voice low.
I pursed my lips as the purpose of this game became obvious. When he referred to their practicality, he meant they were too tight to enjoy the benefits. It was false advertising. Hey, look at my assets, but good luck getting to them. “At least they look good on,” I muttered.
“But what’s the point if you can’t take them off?”
Oh, I could, but it would dampen the moment. Just like it did now. I narrowed my eyes up at him. “You win this round, Mershano. Next outfit.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He tilted that nonexistent hat at me again as he disappeared behind the curtain. I snickered a little when it took him over ten minutes to change, which was just in time for the tailor to return with the champagne. I suspected he took longer than needed to give us privacy.
Will thanked him and set his flute aside to fix the collar of his shirt in the mirror. It gave me a great view of his backside, which was as flawless as ever in his dark suit. The navy blue was almost black, and the jacket fit him perfectly, though the tailor made a few comments about arm lengths in French. They conversed for several minutes as the white-haired man measured the inseams of the pants, his arm, and a few other interesting places. When he finished, Will looked over his shoulder at me.
“Fishing for compliments?” I teased. Not like his ego needed it.
“Always.”
I rolled my eyes. “You look amazing and you know it.”
He smiled broadly at that. “Amazing?”
“Handsome, gorgeous, mouthwatering, delicious.” I threw them all out there, each deepening the dimples at his cheeks. “Oh, whatever. We both know your ego doesn’t need any more stroking.”
“From you? I always welcome stroking.” He winked and disappeared behind the curtain to try on several more outfits, all of them equally breathtaking.
“Well, at least you have a backup job should this vineyard thing not work out,” I said after we left. He left his suits with the tailor, promising to be back in the morning for a final fitting. That kind of turnaround couldn’t be typical, especially since tomorrow was Sunday, but the store seemed more than happy to accommodate him.
“Yeah, and what’s that?” Will asked, referring to my backup-job comment.
“Modeling.” He could easily work in the fashion industry or star in one of those male fitness magazines.
He laughed and shook his head. “I think I’ll stick with my vineyards, darlin’.” His arm settled on my shoulders as he pulled me into him. “But I vote we see how you measure up as a lingerie model.”
I scoffed at that. “Uh, that would be more suitable for Sarah.” She had curves in all the right places, while mine were too slim for that industry. I had the height for it, and maybe even the legs, but my B-cups weren’t all that exciting.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” he said as we entered our final store. Will greeted the female storeowner and introduced me as his “lady friend” who required at least two weeks of undergarments. Everything was in French, which was on par with the rest of our trip so far, including his list of desired lingerie items. Apparently, he knew his way around women’s underwear better than I did, something I didn’t want to think on too heavily.
I frowned when the saleswoman started bagging all the items he requested. “Am I’m not trying these on first?” He’d already proven to know my sizes, so it shouldn’t have surprised me, but I expected him to request I model them first.
“Oh, you will. Later.” He nailed me with a look that left me weak in the knees. Hunger mingled with promise in those dark depths and sent my thoughts directly south. “You still owe me a modeling session, Rachel. And I intend to collect on that soon.”
My lips parted, but I had no words. He couldn’t mean . . .
“I held up my side of our bargain,” he continued in that deep rumble. “Not my fault you chose the store as a location.”
“Not fair,” I managed in a whisper.
He grinned at that. “I warned you, darlin’. With you, I’ll never play fair. Now, where should we go to dinner?”
23
Sweet Freedom
Will kept his promise. By the time we returned to the hotel, Ryan was the last thing on my mind. Then my phone binged as we entered the suite.
Several emotions barreled into me at once, leaving me light-headed. Panic, annoyance, and fury battled for purpose as I moved on shaky legs toward my purse on the dining table.
“Rachel?”
“I’m okay,” I replied. And oddly, I found that to be true. The crippling fear from this morning fled throughout the day, leaving a simmering anger in its place. Ryan wished to remind me of his control from afar and used a tactic he knew would unsettle me to do it. He wanted to ruin this experience for me, and potentially my career in the process. Without Baker Brown, I would have nothing. What did he expect? That I would turn to him for help? I’d sooner move home to Indiana.
I picked up my phone and thumbed through the myriad of text messages with a growl.
Glad to see your flight arrived safely. Love you.
Did you get my flowers?
Where are you?
Why are you ignoring me?
The messages went on and on. I r
ead them in a daze until a random photo message appeared from a private number. A short note accompanied it.
He’s still in Chicago. –MK
I studied the photo of Ryan and showed Will. “That’s him outside his building. He’s not in Paris.”
“Did Mark send that to you?”
“Yeah.” I had no idea how he captured the image, but if he said Ryan was still in the United States, then I believed him. “That doesn’t explain the note.” Which left me a little uneasy, but at least my insane ex wasn’t lurking in Paris somewhere.
“You’re sure it’s his handwriting?”
“Absolutely.” His penmanship haunted my nightmares. “He wrote it.” I scrolled through the rest of the messages, looking for anything work related, and turned it off when I found nothing. Not responding to Ryan felt right. He hated it when I ignored him, and usually ramped up his efforts in contacting me as a result, but he couldn’t touch me here. At least not anytime soon. Or maybe ever.
Telling Mark and Will this morning about Ryan was one of the hardest moments of my life, yet confiding in them had changed me on a fundamental level. It hurt at first, a lot, but as the pain subsided, a sense of lightness came over me. My conscience was finally clear, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn’t alone.
I met Will’s gentle gaze and felt the final piece of ice crack deep inside of my chest. This man, this stubborn, confident man, had set me free. He managed to chip away at my chilly demeanor with his calm consistency. I may have started as a challenge for him, but somewhere along the way, this bond between us grew roots and created something beautiful.
His thumb wiped a tear from my cheek that I hadn’t felt fall. “Rachel . . .”
I pressed my finger to his lips. “Don’t say anything. Please. I need this. I need to feel.” Because I’d gone so long without it. Ryan had terrified me into a level of submission I never quite escaped, until today. Until I picked up my phone and called Mark. Until I confided in Will.
It felt like a lifetime ago even though it was this morning. But this change was a long time coming. The process started when I called off the engagement, but then I sat in a stagnant state until I met Will. He challenged me on a level no one else ever had, and then he’d patiently waited for me to see him. To understand what could be between us, if I let it.
Despite his endless flirtation, he never pushed me into anything I didn’t want, and was even willing to walk away from me and the firm when he sensed his meddling had gone too far. It pissed me off at the time, but his relentless pursuit relit the fire in my soul, reminded me of who I was, and gave me something worth fighting for. And with it came the courage I needed to finally break Ryan’s control. Because that’s what happened this morning. His initial attack shoved me to the ground, but I picked myself up and decided to help myself instead of wallow, and earned my freedom in the process.
And now, I could feel again.
Wholly.
Completely.
Endlessly.
I wrapped my arms around Will’s neck and went up onto my toes to kiss him. Everything I felt, all the happiness, sadness, fear, anger, and pent-up passion, went from my mouth to his, and he accepted it all. His hand slid into my hair, holding me to him as he returned the favor with his tongue, telling me without words that he understood.
He lifted me off the ground and set me on the table. My knees spread as he stepped between them, bunching my skirt up along the way, and devastated me with his mouth. It hadn’t taken him long to take control, not that I minded. Caving to his commanding touch felt right. He knew what I wanted, what I needed, and I trusted him to take me there.
My legs tingled as he trailed his fingers up the hem of my stockings to the garters. He didn’t unfasten them, but he explored them thoroughly. The brief strokes against my inner thighs weren’t enough. I craved friction several inches higher, and my breasts were begging for release. Too many clothes separated me from him. I needed to feel everything he had to offer.
I hooked my calves around his thighs to force him closer and ran my hands down his back to his firm ass. When I squeezed him, hard, he chuckled.
“Feeling impatient?” he teased.
I bit his lower lip in response and slid my palms to his lower abdomen. He said nothing as I unbuttoned his dress shirt and pushed it from his shoulders. That left him clad in a tight white undershirt that showcased all his delicious muscle. I groaned in frustration when he caught my wrists and planted them on either side of my hips against the wood.
“My turn.” The words were spoken against my neck as he started to kiss his way down to my blouse. His eyes held mine as he deftly unfastened the first button with his teeth.
Holy wow, that’s hot. He continued his descent all the way down my abdomen, never faltering. When the last one popped open, he released my wrists and slipped the fabric down my arms before tossing it to the floor.
His wicked mouth played along the neckline of my camisole, nipping and licking and driving me crazy. I tried again to remove his undershirt, which he let me do this time, and my top joined his, leaving me clad in a lacy black bra.
“Mmm, for the record, you still owe me a proper modeling show.” His smoldering gaze snagged mine. “But I wholeheartedly approve of this preview.”
I played my fingers over his abdomen, exploring each hard ridge and divot. “You’re not the only one who approves.” I pressed an open-mouthed kiss against his pec and licked a path up to his neck. He tasted like sex, spice, and sin all wrapped up in a masculine bow. “Take me to bed, Will,” I whispered. “Please.”
He gripped my hips and dragged me to the edge of the table so my sensitive center aligned perfectly with his hot arousal. I squirmed against him, but he held me still as his intense gaze captured mine.
“I want to, but if we do this, we do it right, and we fight for it.” His lips whispered across mine in a soft caress that left me yearning for so much more, but he wasn’t done. “We do this, Rachel, and you’re mine. Just as I’m yours. There will be no one else. Do you understand?”
Mine. I liked how that sounded. It wasn’t so much possessive but rather a promise he wanted us to make to each other. “You want commitment.”
“Yes.”
“And long-term.” He didn’t say that, but I inferred it from his tone and previous comments.
“Absolutely.” No hesitation lurked in his voice or in his expression, though he was studying me intently. I couldn’t blame him. We both knew that, a week ago, I would have flat out refused. Hell, two days ago, I would have said no. But Will’s incessant hammering shattered the wall surrounding my heart, setting it free to feel for the first time in years.
And it only seemed fitting that he was the one I wanted. The one I felt comfortable enough with to try having a relationship again. The one I trusted not to hurt me.
I swallowed the words battering for purpose in my mouth. There was so much I wanted to say, so much I needed him to know, to understand, but nothing could convey the feelings kindling deep inside me. Showing him was the only option. I kissed him and unleashed all my inner chaos, my anxiety, the innate fragility of my trust in him, and the overwhelming emotion overtaking my soul. It came out of me like a storm, and my tongue was the vessel. He accepted it all, his mouth answering in kind, as he swallowed my darkest fears and reaffirmed my place at his side.
Our embrace started as a flurry of passion that evolved into something darkly intimate as he lightly drew down the zipper of my skirt. It left my lacy black thong exposed at the back. He traced his fingers over it and groaned.
“Your penchant for lingerie slays me, darlin’.” He lifted me off the table by my ass and set me on my feet. A wiggle of my hips sent the skirt to the ground, and then I was in the air again with my legs around his waist. His lips captured mine again, picking up right where he left off, as he carried me to the bedroom. My heart kicked up a beat at the show of strength and confidence, then it went into overdrive when he dropped me ont
o the bed. I lifted onto my elbows to admire the view as he removed first his belt and then those sexy slacks. His tight black boxer briefs barely contained his erection.
That’s going to be inside me soon . . . I squeezed my thighs together with a moan as the image assaulted me. All those muscles working as he moves over me . . . “Fuck.”
He chuckled and moved over me on the bed. “That’s three times you’ve said that while in my bed. I’m about to take you up on that offer.” His lips closed around my nipple through the lace, causing me to arch into him. I’d never been more turned on in my life, and we weren’t even naked yet.
“Will . . .” It was part plea, part annoyance. The foreplay was killing me.
“Patience,” he murmured, switching breasts. I needed the bra off. Now. It abraded my tender skin in a near-painful way. I unsnapped the clasp at my back and quickly found both my wrists captured in one of his hands above my head. He tsked. “That’s the opposite of what I said, darlin’.”
I wrapped my legs around his waist and rubbed against him. “This is me not listening. Fuck me, Mershano.”
Molten chocolate stared down at me, and my thighs squeezed in anticipation. Shit. Will on a good day was gorgeous, but this? So. Incredibly. Hot. I wanted to weep with joy as he slid my bra away from my breasts and up my arms. Then I felt him tying my wrists together with the lace. A glance upward showed him securing my hands to the headboard. With my own fucking bra. I tugged on instinct, but the fabric didn’t budge.
“What are you doing?”
“Finishing my exploration,” he replied with a nip against my neck. “No squirming, gorgeous.” With him lounging over me like some predatory cat? Yeah, right. But when I tried to shift my hips to meet his, he stilled me with his hands on my thighs, and then he sucked my nipple deep into his mouth.
“Oh!” That skilled tongue of his drew circles in the most delicious of patterns. To feel that against my clit . . . My legs shook with the thought. “More,” I begged.
