Dynasties:The Elliots, Books 7-12

by Various Authors

  Aubrey’s tiny black bra only half-covered her breasts. The puckered tips were clearly visible beneath the border of the lacy cups. His mouth watered. His heart pounded. His lungs struggled to find sufficient oxygen in the suddenly airless elevator. Liam circled his thumbs over the lace, easing it aside, and then he dipped his head to take one tight tip into his mouth.

  Aubrey whimpered and collapsed against the elevator wall. Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding him in place as he sampled first one breast and then the other, sipping, nipping, lightly abrading with his teeth.

  His palms glided over the hot satin of her skin, outlining her waist and hips and then parting her dark tangle of curls, seeking and finding her moisture. Her gasps filled his ears, and her fingers tightened in his hair almost to the point of pain. Liam captured Aubrey’s hands in his and transferred them to the cool, brass rail. “Hold on.”

  He took a moment to savor the sexy picture of Aubrey with her dress gaping open, her breasts damp above the skimpy push-up bra and her long, slightly parted legs encased in those sinful thigh-high stockings and stiletto heels. An aroused flush covered her face and chest, and desire kept her lids at half-mast.

  He dropped to his knees, cupped her buttocks and tasted her. He stroked her with his tongue, filled his nostrils with the scent of her arousal and savored each whimper of pleasure he heard over the loud drumming of his heart. And then she climaxed. He supported her weight as pleasure undulated through her and then he rose, dug into his pocket for a condom and reached for his belt buckle with trembling hands.

  “Let me,” Aubrey whispered. Her fingers made quick work of his belt and pants, pushing them down his thighs. Good thing she worked fast since each brush of her fingers sent him closer to the edge of the cliff, and going over without her wasn’t an acceptable option. She took the condom from him and smoothed it over his rigid flesh. All Liam could do was lock his muscles, grind his molars and battle his raging need.

  “I need you inside me, Liam.”

  Her husky whisper nearly unmanned him. He’d never been happier to oblige a request in his life. He lifted Aubrey, rested her bottom on the brass rail and hooked her legs around his hips, and then he drove deep into the slick, hot glove of her body. Her arms twined around his neck, holding him close. For a moment he remained buried and still, as sensation engulfed him, and then he withdrew and plunged into her again and again until his lungs burned and his legs trembled.

  Her lips found his, devouring him with one ravenous kiss after another until they were both gasping, and kissing became impossible. And then her head tipped back against the mirrored wall and she cried out his name. Her internal muscles clenched him and his own climax slammed through him.

  He planted his hands against the mirror on either side of Aubrey’s head and lowered his forehead to the fragrant angle of her neck and shoulder. Satisfaction thickened and slowed his blood. “You smell delicious.”

  Her teeth caught his earlobe. “So do you.”

  And just that easily desire rekindled. How did she do it? How did Aubrey Holt turn him inside out and give him pleasure exponentially more satisfying than anything he’d experienced before?

  It wasn’t a question Liam could answer with his pants around his ankles and his brain lost in the ozone. Later, he promised himself, later he’d figure out why and how Aubrey knocked him sideways.

  But first, he’d promised her dinner and a bag of books. And he always kept his promises. Always.

  Six

  She’d done it again.

  Aubrey leaned back against the cool, mirrored elevator wall and tried to summon the guilt and regret she should be feeling for consorting with the competition. But she couldn’t rally the negative emotions when every muscle in her body hummed with satisfaction, her heart still raced with passion and her arms and legs still encircled the man who’d fulfilled her secret fantasy. Liam’s chest hair teased her breasts each time one of them inhaled.

  The first time she and Liam had become intimate had been a fluke of hormones and happenstance, but this time she’d deliberately chosen to ignore her father’s animosity for the Elliotts and pursue her own personal pleasure because Liam reminded her of the person she used to be. Fun. Sassy. A little naughty. Or at least that was what her college roommates at Radcliffe had claimed. Aubrey hadn’t seen that girl in a long, long time.

  Liam Elliott was the first person she’d ever met who understood the pressures of the family-owned magazine business, and their crazy late night calls had de-stressed her in a way that nothing else could. Not pills, nor alcohol. But an ongoing affair with Liam could be just as destructive to her job and her relationship with her father as a chemical addiction. She’d spent her entire life trying to please her father and prove her intelligence. This illicit involvement did neither of those.

  “I guess avoiding each other isn’t going to work,” she asked once she caught her breath.

  “Not a chance.” Liam eased from her body and instantly she missed him. He helped her stand and then began righting her clothing. Her legs quivered unsteadily. Watching him make love to her in the mirrors had been hotter than she could believe, but his haste to redress her was quickly quenching that fire.

  “Are you trying to straighten me up so you can shove me out the door?” She winced at the hurt in her voice and pushed his hands aside to complete the task, albeit unsteadily.

  “No. But if I don’t cover your delectable body, you’re never going to get out of this elevator or get the dinner and books I promised you.”

  Pleasure wrapped around her like a warm blanket. “Oh. Well, in that case, may I return the favor?”

  She bent her knees, intent on pulling up his slacks, but Liam caught her elbows and lifted her back up. “Not if you want to get out of here tonight. The thought of you on your knees…” He shook his head. “Hell, Aubrey, I can barely stand as it is.”

  His words and the desire lurking in his eyes sent her pulse into a tizzy. “Maybe later, then. What can I do for you now?”

  “A loaded question.” His eyes glimmered with suppressed hunger. He fastened his clothing, scooped up the roses and her purse and placed both in her arms. “The flowers are for you.”

  The heady scent of the flowers filled her nostrils. “Thank you. Florist roses don’t usually have this much scent.”

  “I special-ordered them. Twelve, because twelve days ago we first did this.”

  His fingers tangled in her hair and he held her captive while he kissed her deeply, hungrily. By the time he released her lips, her head spun from lack of oxygen. Clutching the roses to her chest, she sagged against the elevator wall and filled her lungs with much-needed air.

  Rendered speechless by the romantic gesture and his thoughtfulness, not to mention that killer kiss, she could only stare as he gathered the ice bucket and the champagne flutes and used his elbow to push the button to open the elevator doors.

  Why oh why couldn’t his last name be something besides Elliott? And why couldn’t they have met and slowly fallen in love instead of instantly combusting?

  The doors glided open. He nodded for her to precede him. Tantalizing smells greeted her as soon as he opened his apartment door. She followed him into the dining room. “Something smells delicious.”

  He deposited the ice bucket on a long cherry table that had been set with ivory cloth napkins, silver and crystal. “Steak Diane. Lucky for you, I’m pretty good in the kitchen.”

  “I imagine you’re good just about anywhere.” The bold comment—shades of the old Aubrey—slipped out before she could edit it.

  Mischief sparkled in his baby blues, and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he pulled out a chair. “You’re more than welcome to test that theory after dinner. Have a seat.”

  Aubrey laid the roses and her purse on the long table and sat. Liam’s hands briefly massaged her shoulders—just long enough to agitate her breathing—and then he bent to nuzzle a kiss on her nape. “I’ll be right back.”

  After
he left, Aubrey rested her head against the back of the chair. What are you doing, A.? This path leads to a dead end.

  What’s wrong with a dead end as long as you both know that’s where you’re headed?

  Nothing, as long as hearts and hopes and hormones don’t become entangled.

  Liam made her feel young, energetic and sexy instead of old, neutered and dedicated only to her job. He relieved her stress and gave her amazing orgasms. What more could a girl want? She could be happy with that, couldn’t she?

  Absolutely. Without a doubt.

  Hmm. Why did she have trouble believing that?

  Because she wanted more. She wanted a loving husband, children, a home and a minivan. Despite her parents’ bad examples, she knew there was such a thing as a happy marriage. Her college friends had married and started families. Aubrey frowned. She couldn’t remember when she had last spoken to her friends. In the last few years work had taken over her life. Each time one of her friends had called she’d been shackled to her desk by some urgent deadline. She’d even given up her jogs in the park for a treadmill—with her laptop fastened to the handlebars—in her spare bedroom. Voice-recognition software made it possible for her to dictate her work as she ran.

  Unfortunately, she could never have the American dream of 2-point-whatever children and a house with a yard with Liam. Even if it were possible to get over their Romeo and Juliet family situation, they’d met and ignited too quickly. Love at first sight—not that she imagined herself in love yet—wasn’t based on anything deep and meaningful, and therefore it burned out quickly and painfully, and it left scars behind. Just look at her mother. Pamela Holt Dean Getty Richards Curtis paid more for therapy each month than Aubrey paid in rent and utilities combined.

  The swinging door opened, interrupting her dark thoughts. Liam entered carrying a tray holding two plates and a small bowl. He set a plate before her. The other dish he placed in front of the chair at a right angle to hers and put the bowl between them. He discarded the tray, pulled a bottle of wine from the crook of his arm, efficiently uncorked it and poured the deep red liquid into the waiting goblets and then sat.

  From the bowl he extracted a cloth and extended his hand. “May I?”

  Surprised by this consideration, Aubrey placed her palm over his. Liam wrapped the warm, damp lemon-scented cloth around her hand and then embarked on the most sensual hand washing of Aubrey’s life. He dragged the cloth between each finger, massaged her palm and the sensitive inner skin of her wrist, and then he repeated the process with her other hand. By the time he finished, the desire he’d so recently sated had rekindled and her breath came in short bursts. All because he’d washed her hands. She couldn’t get over it. How did he get to her so easily?

  He lifted his wine glass. “Enjoy.”

  “For as long as it lasts.” She touched her glass to his with a clink of fine crystal and then sipped. Liam definitely knew his wines. Aubrey lifted her knife and sliced into the tender beef and then paused. “If we’re going to have this…affair shouldn’t we make some ground rules?”

  “Good idea.”

  “No calls at work,” she offered and then took a bite. The succulent meat melted in her mouth. “Delicious.”

  “Thank you. You’re right. Calling at work was risky even with the precautions I took. We need to keep our business and private lives separate. Completely separate,” he stressed.

  Guilt stabbed Aubrey between the shoulder blades. She washed down the lump in her throat with a gulp of wine. She had to destroy the report from the sales department. “Okay. And when either of us wants to end this, all we have to do is say so and that’s it. No further contact. No questions asked. No explanations required.”

  “Agreed.”

  “No ‘I love yous’ or talk of the future. We both know this is temporary.”

  “Got it. Here and now. That’s it.”

  A few moments passed as each ate in silence. Aubrey couldn’t imagine being ready to say goodbye anytime soon, but then her mother probably never went into any of her marriages anticipating the messy divorces that followed, either.

  She met Liam’s gaze. “Meeting in public is out, and we can’t meet at my apartment. My father owns the building and he lives in the penthouse above me. Besides the risk of running into him, there would be too many prying eyes. But a hotel seems…” She shrugged.

  “Sleazy. My place is safe. My neighbor is overseas more often than he’s home, and Carlos the doorman has been here forever. He’s discreet.”

  Aubrey paused with her fork halfway to her mouth. “You mean there was no chance of us being interrupted in the elevator tonight?”

  Liam’s lips curled upward. “Not unless there was a fire, and, sweetheart, you came damn close to starting one. Watching you watch us…” He shook his head and then exhaled through pursed lips.

  Warmth swept her cheeks at the compliment. “You could have told me sooner. About your neighbor, I mean.”

  “And spoil your fantasy?”

  A smile twitched on her lips. She’d never had a man ask her what her fantasies were, let alone go to such lengths to deliver one. She said a silent prayer of thanks that baseball season was over and she wouldn’t be expected to play out his fantasy at the stadium. “Fantasies rarely live up to expectations, but this one did. You definitely didn’t disappoint me.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  And then Aubrey’s blood chilled. “Oh my God. You don’t have security cameras in the elevator, do you? I should have thought to ask before but I—”

  His grin faded and he laid down his silverware. “We don’t. Aubrey, you have my promise that I will never deliberately do anything to hurt or humiliate you.”

  Tension drained and panic subsided. That could have been a disastrous mistake. “Nor I you.”

  And she meant it. Her father would have to find another minion to investigate EPH.

  Liam covered her hand with his on the table. His thumb stroked a trail of chaos along her inner wrist. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been for me to sit here knowing you’re not wearing panties?”

  Her appetite for food vanished and a hunger for Liam reawakened deep in her belly. She lowered her gaze from the fire in his eyes and surprisingly discovered her plate was empty. She barely remembered eating. “Let me help with the dishes.”

  She hastily snatched up her plate and his, rushed into the kitchen and unloaded them into the sink. After plugging the drain she turned on the water. Liam’s arms bracketed her, caging her against the counter. He leaned forward until his chest pressed her shoulder blades and his erection rested in the crease of her bottom. His breath stirred the tendrils around her ear and she shivered. If it were possible for bones to melt, hers would be in a puddle on the granite floor.

  “The dishes can wait. Join me in the shower. I want to get you wet.”

  She turned in his arms and pressed her hands to his chest. Her heart echoed the rapid beat of his beneath her palm. “I think you already have, but I’m willing to let you keep practicing if you insist.”

  For better or worse, her forbidden affair had begun.

  Aubrey dropped her towel and reached for her dress. Liam snapped out of the sensual fog induced by the sight of her damp ivory skin. “Stay. Tomorrow’s Sunday. No need to rush home.”

  She turned, chewing her bottom lip. “Are you sure?”

  “Without a doubt.”

  Barely nine and they’d already had dinner and made love twice. She’d destroyed him, totally wrecked him, and five minutes ago after he’d come unglued in the shower he would have sworn he’d be sated for months to come. So why did hunger still gnaw at his veins? And why did the idea of waking up beside Aubrey make his body twitch to life?

  She rested her palms on his chest, sifting through his chest hairs in a way guaranteed to make his soldier salute. He pressed his hands over hers, stilling her dangerous digits. Undeterred, she bent to sip a trail of kisses along his collarbone. He tangled his fingers in her
damp hair and gently tugged her head back. “I thought you said you needed to rest.”

  Her siren’s smile could tempt a saint—something he’d never aspired to be. “We’ll rest awhile if you insist. You can show me your wine collection.”

  He didn’t need to rest. His hard-on proved that, but he wanted to share his wine collection with Aubrey. No one but his grandfather knew the extent of his interest in enology. He laced his fingers through hers, led her back to the kitchen and folded back the wooden cabinet doors concealing his built-in wine refrigerator.

  Her eyebrows lifted. How he managed to keep his eyes on her face when her luscious naked body was there to tempt him he didn’t know. “You’re a serious collector.”

  “I have more.”

  “Show me.”

  But instead of taking her to the cases stored in the third bedroom he led her to the library. She released his hand and strolled toward the ceiling-high bookcases. The shift of her buttocks and the swish of her long legs as she crossed the room, followed by the sight of her fingers caressing the spines of his collection of books on enology and viticulture, had him gritting his teeth on a surge of pure, unadulterated lust.

  “My family has an estate in Napa. It belonged to my grandparents. Maybe you and I…” Her voice trailed off. Regret darkened her eyes and turned down the corners of her luscious mouth. They couldn’t visit her family’s estate without word of their affair getting out.

  She sank in his leather desk chair, tucked her knees to her chest and spun the chair around. Butter-soft ivory skin on burgundy leather. Liam’s fingers flexed in anticipation. If he had a condom with him he’d have her flat on her back on top of his cherry desk in seconds. He considered making a quick trip to his bedroom to retrieve protection, but a knock at his front door doused his desire like a coach’s sideline shower from the water cooler after a ball game.