Taking Her There

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Taking Her There Page 2

by Olivia Brynn


  Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome looked a bit ridiculous with her glittery handbag in one hand and her strappy heels dangling from the other. Though it did add a little bit of attractiveness when his purely masculine swagger sent them swinging. As he neared, she stuck out one hand, and he passed her the purse.

  She reached into the pocket, which was pitifully empty besides her now-expired driver’s license and a six-month-old pack of gum, and pulled out her keys.

  Andre said nothing as she opened the door and stormed through. Percy must have hired someone else to air out her house, because it didn’t have the stale scent of abandonment. Home at last.

  She dropped her purse onto a table, then turned again to face him. “Well?”

  He held out her shoes but didn’t cross the threshold.

  “Just set them anywhere. Then you may return to your other duties.”

  His eyes narrowed. A sultry look if ever there was one. He took three slow steps into the room, his focus on her the entire way. Even when he let her shoes drop to the floor, he didn’t look away. Or even blink.

  Angeline’s heart thumped, and just as her vision seemed to blur, Andre Salidas showed up in hyper clarity. One more step and he was in her personal space. The twenty-four-inch radius that she rarely allowed anyone into. Alarms didn’t sound, and her ass-kicking instincts lay dormant.

  “Do you know what I think?” His voice. God, his voice. Low and rumbly, it washed over her skin to tease each nerve ending with a gentle lick.

  She swallowed. “What?”

  “I think you do a lot of hiding behind that dominatrix façade you’ve built.” His coffee-tinged breath was warm on her cheek. “I think that’s probably how you get through your time isolated in your glass palace. Probably how you get through your day-to-day life being ordered around by directors and agents and”—he dropped his focus to her mouth when she licked her lips—“boyfriends.”

  “You don’t know a damn thing about—”

  “I know everything there is to know about you. Your whole life is an open book. You never used that mute button in all the time I’ve been driving you around. If I were anyone else, I’d blush.”

  She took a step back “Then you know I don’t—I never hide.”

  He took a step toward her, one side of his mouth curled in a knowing grin. “Sure you do. You hide behind your superstar status. Every time you stick your nose in the air, you’re trying to take attention off the lonely woman you really are. You showed the slightest hint of vulnerability in the car when Percy told you he trusted you. Even through that tinted glass, I saw the hardness in your face and body just melt away. It revealed the real you. Human. Feminine. That’s what you hide.”

  Before she knew it, her back hit the wall. Andre hadn’t touched her, but rode her chest with barely three inches between them, and she had to curl her fingers into fists to refrain from reaching out to that heat.

  “You get home, and that’s when you build your guard back up. You put on your ridiculous mask and put yourself back in charge. I can’t believe you ordered me to carry your fuck-me heels.”

  She spared one glance at her shoes, then snapped her attention back on the man she had to crane her neck to see. “You…work for me.”

  God, her voice sounded so damn weak. She stuck her chin out but refused to repeat herself.

  “I’m your driver. When I’m behind that wheel, and when you’re in the backseat, you can send me in whatever direction you want, and I’ll take you there. But if you think about it…” He reached up to remove his cap, revealing a headful of shiny black hair, a halo of blue enticing her again to release the band at his nape and let the silky-looking strands flow free. “That still puts me in charge.”

  A shiver tickled her spine. “What do you want?”

  His mouth moved closer to her ear, and she let her eyes slide closed. “I want what you want. I want you to relax. Let me take over.”

  If she relaxed any further, she’d melt into a puddle on the floor. “What are you doing?”

  “If I tell you I’m going to kiss you, will you fire me before…or after?”

  She should fire him now. No one dominated Angeline Rowe. If she could open her eyes and get the strength to shove him away, she’d do it.

  Maybe not.

  “Depends on the kiss.”

  She half expected a laugh. Maybe as he high-tailed it out the door. So when his lips brushed hers, she couldn’t stop the gasp that sent air rushing between them. Warm, soft and firm.

  “After, it is.” His mouth moved. Softly, almost like a dream, his lips enticed hers to open. Only their lips met; he held himself a hair’s breadth away from her everywhere else. His breath stirred the peach fuzz on her earlobes. His chin rasped against hers with the hint of stubble. Any other day, she’d be all over this guy, knocking him to the ground and taking charge of the encounter herself. But the mere act of restraint—not physical but pure power of will—kept her hands plastered to the wall behind her.

  Oh God. It had been way too long since she’d been kissed like this. Scratch that—she’d never been kissed like this. Not even in The Rogue’s Bounty, where critics proclaimed she’d performed her best love scene yet. That Hollywood leading man had nothing on Andre Salidas. My driver.

  His tongue, warm and soft, ventured into her mouth. She met the intrusion with her own, licking the tip, drawing it farther into her mouth to apply a hint of suction. When she angled her head for more, he growled—a purely sexy, masculine sound—then pulled back just slightly.

  She opened her eyes to find herself up close and personal with a young Antonio Banderas look-alike. His arms had her caged against the wall, his elbows braced by her ears.

  “Now,” he said, his voice low enough to send vibrations through her skin. “I realize you’re the type of woman who likes to be in control. I also see that you’re dying to rub that beautiful body up against me, yet you haven’t moved a muscle to do so.”

  She took a deep breath. God, he smelled good.

  “Now I wonder why that is?” He pressed a hot kiss on the corner of her mouth. “Either you really don’t want me to do this…” More kisses, this time along her jawline and up to the sensitive patch of skin behind her ear. “Or you’re waiting for me to tell you exactly what to do.”

  Angeline tilted her chin to give him more room but didn’t move away from the wall, her palms now damp and her lady parts hot and throbbing. Why wouldn’t he take just one step closer? She whimpered.

  She was being seduced. Pure and simple. Way back in the deepest part of her brain, she knew this. As a regular seductress, she knew the signs. Ply him with glimpses of skin and promises of ultimate pleasure and a man would stand in a boneless pile of drool, just like she was doing right now.

  Oblivious, mute and completely focused on one damn thing. Only she’d met her match. In fact, Andre Salidas was her superior, because where she’d flash bits of tits and ass, Andre had her up against the wall, a throbbing mess of desire, without even touching her, let alone shedding a single piece of clothing.

  “Please.”

  “Okay, Angel. I’ll take the driver’s seat.”

  Angel? Angeline wasn’t into cutsie nicknames, especially when she was anything but angelic. She’d even stormed off a movie set the last time a man dared call her Angel. Now it just sounded…

  Sexy.

  “Touch me. Right hand around my waist, left on my chest.” His voice had sharpened, and she responded without thinking. She ran her hands across his back and down his chest, reveling in the heat radiating from beneath his clothes.

  “Pull me closer. I want you to feel what you do to me.”

  When she brought his body against hers, she sighed, and he caught it in his mouth. His erection pressed into her belly. She moved against the hard ridge and wondered why the hell she didn’t have the courage to tear his pants off. Instead, her hands were right where he’d told her to put them.

  “You feel damn good, Angeline. Soft and warm. I
want to know more. I want to see everything.”

  “Please.” Was that the only word she could say? She nuzzled his neck and made her own path across his cheek. “I want your cock.”

  “Language, Angel.”

  “Fuck me.”

  That got his attention. Grinding his hips against her, he ravaged her mouth with a passionate kiss. He slid his hands down her sides and cupped her ass, lifting her even tighter against him.

  She hooked her leg around his and worked her hips in a seductive rhythm. The man had a gift. Every inch of her body was now hyperaware of everything he did to her. His chest rubbing against hers, making her nipples into sensitive hard nubs, his hands kneading her flesh, his mouth moving over and inside hers, filling her with his taste, his scent.

  “One choice. Here or in bed?”

  Chapter Two

  Angeline held on tight as he brought her other leg around his hips, lifting her off the floor and securing her against the wall with his weight.

  “Answer me. I’m not going to give you a whole lot of choices. Take those that I give.”

  It took her a minute to remember the question. She almost wanted to tear off his clothes right here and have a quick, intense fuck against the wall, but she wasn’t prepared.

  “Bedroom.” She spoke against his mouth, and she finally got her hands around his ponytail. His hair was even silkier than she’d imagined.

  “Where?”

  She gave him directions, and he carried her confidently up the stairs and into her suite. He kicked the door closed before lowering her to her feet.

  “Take off my jacket. Then my tie.”

  Angeline’s pride flared for a second, only to be smothered by desire. As her hands moved to do as she was asked—told—she tried to wrap her mind around how she could drop all her defenses so quickly around this virtual stranger. She tossed his jacket over the back of a chair, then tugged his tie free. She played with the top button of his shirt, unsure if she should continue undressing him without his edict.

  “Now your jeans. Leave the panties.”

  Oh God. She wore the ugliest pair of underwear known to man. Plain cotton briefs that reminded her of what her mother made her wear when she was six. When she left Redlands, she had no way of knowing anyone would see them before she threw them in the compactor. “But—”

  “Now, Angel.” He took a step back, leaving her feeling more exposed than ever.

  She released the button, then the zipper on her jeans and eased them over her hips. Heat rose to her face and neck, and if she was capable, she would have sworn she might actually be blushing. His quick breath put her a little at ease, though she still fought against covering herself.

  He tugged on the bottom of her T-shirt. “Now this.”

  Again, not her best bra, but he certainly didn’t seem to mind. He just stepped closer to her and put his hands on her hips.

  “Beautiful body.” He slid up until his thumbs brushed her breasts. Her nipples tightened further, and her pussy clenched at the same time. Then those thumbs slipped beneath the lace and stroked the curves of her flesh. “Remove your bra, Angel.”

  She did, exposing herself to him with his hands remaining where they were. He hummed his delight, tracing each nub with a gentle fingertip.

  “Finish.” His voice had dropped to a low grumble. His breath short and hot against her skin.

  Gratefully, she shed the ugly panties. “Now you’re overdressed.” The cut of his slacks didn’t help her see any outline of his cock, and she realized how desperately she wanted to. As cool and confident as he was, if he remained unaffected by this whole exchange, her ego might not survive.

  “Go ahead.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. She knew exactly where she wanted to start. Stepping in close, she pressed her lips against his neck and reached up to his hair. Careful not to pull, she unwrapped the elastic band and threaded all ten fingers through the thick strands. Cool and silky, even more of a tactile thrill than she’d imagined. She went right to work on the row of white buttons on his shirt. When she reached the end, she just continued on the button and zipper below and shoved his pants down to the floor. She slid the shirt off his shoulders and let it hang over his elbows until he released his hold on her, one hand at a time, to shake free.

  Finally, she got her first look at his chest. Broad, toasty brown, sprinkled with fine, dark hair in a nice treasure trail that disappeared behind his pants. He wasn’t bulky, but sleekly muscled. As she stood naked in front of him, her fingertips hooked beneath the warm waistband of his black boxer briefs.

  He was hard. A spot of moisture leaked through the cotton, a clear sign just how turned on he was. Angeline hesitantly ran one fingernail down the knit fabric, loving the way he hissed his approval.

  “You want those off, don’t you?” He ran his hand over her head, ruffling her short hair in an affectionate and somehow not condescending caress.

  “Yes,” she said breathlessly, her mouth dry. “May I?” She had no idea why she didn’t just tear them away and throw him down to do with as she pleased, but whatever game they’d silently agreed upon was arousing as hell.

  “You may.” He smiled, but the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “On your knees.”

  She didn’t hesitate. Before her knees sank into the plush carpet she had his underwear down below his hips. The scent of male arousal filled her nose and sent a rush of heat beneath her skin. She buried her nose in the thatch of hair above his erection and drew a deep breath.

  “I want you. I want to taste you. Suck you.” She pulled his briefs the rest of the way down to pool around his ankles.

  He growled, just a small sound before he cut it off. “Do it.”

  Slowly, deliberately so, she licked up one side of his cock, swirled the tip of her tongue around the head, then flattened her tongue across the slit. The burst of pre-ejaculate sent her taste buds buzzing. She moaned, then took him firmly in her hand and sucked the cap into her mouth.

  “Oh God, yeah. That’s good, Angel…really good.” He took her head in his hands in a gentle hold, then tilted his hips to better accommodate her position.

  She sucked his length to her throat. His groans and heavy breathing gave her a boost of encouragement, so she did it again, this time with some creative tongue-work. With the string of dirty words spilling from Andre, it sounded like she’d finally taken control of the encounter.

  She let her tongue dance along his flesh as she flattened her hand on his bare abdomen and pushed, guiding him toward the bed behind him.

  Immediately, her wrists were manacled. “Huh-uh,” he said, clear and even, as if she hadn’t had him sputtering obscenities with his previous breath. As if she hadn’t tormented his dick inside her mouth. “I’m in charge here.”

  So much for taking control. With one glance up to his serious half-lidded eyes and his mouth hanging open, she hummed her assent. He could be in charge this time, but with any luck, Angeline would show him just how big of a bitch payback could be.

  She grinned around his cock, then went back to work. Without her hands she had to bob up and down, sucking and lapping every inch she could stuff in her mouth.

  She loved how vocal he was. Every hiss and groan, every encouraging dirty word just spurred her to continue and make it even better for him. She even loved the strength in his grip as he moved from her wrists to tangle their fingers together in a much more intimate hold. A few more long draws on his cock, and he pulled her back to her feet.

  “Damn, girl. I’ve been thinking about that for a long time.”

  “Oh really? How long?” She licked the moisture from her bottom lip.

  “Since that day last year when you left the partition down on the way to the CMAs.”

  She grinned. She’d gone down on Luke during that ride. She’d left the partition down to force Luke to maintain his composure as she sucked him off. “So you did notice.”

  “Oh yeah, I noticed. Props to the guy for keeping his cool, though
I practically bit through my tongue.”

  She grinned and tugged him toward the bed. “I can do more.”

  He released her hands and nodded toward the big, silk-covered monster. “Get in.”

  Angeline grabbed a strip of condoms out of the drawer of her bedside table and brought them with her to lie on the bed.

  He took his cock in his hand, still deliciously hard and shiny from her saliva. “Touch yourself for me. Let me see if you’re ready.”

  “I’m ready.”

  “Show me.”

  Still a little self-conscious since she hadn’t visited a salon for a wax in months she brought both hands down and spread her pussy open. The air hit her sensitive folds, and she jerked into the touch.

  “Spread those juices around. Slick yourself up so I can bury myself between your thighs.”

  She dipped two fingers inside, surprised at the moisture there. Her sex clenched at the invasion. Drawing her fingers out, she painted the slickness around her opening. The brush against her clit was almost too much, but she went back again to swirl the hard nubbin until her toes started tingling.

  “Jesus.” Andre didn’t take his eyes off her actions except to glance at the condoms long enough to grab one and rip it open. “Now your nipples. Cover them with your scent.”

  Angeline groaned at the loss but did as he said, and damned if that didn’t just intensify her arousal without giving her any measure of relief. She couldn’t take her eyes off him, though his attention was on the way her fingers plucked at the tips of her now-slick breasts. His dark hair hung to his shoulders, framing his face, making him look a little fierce.

  Barbaric.

  But his expression wasn’t wild. With eyes like flint, he focused on her as if he didn’t see her high-priced bedroom set or the original Warhol artwork on the wall. Angeline was stripped of her diva title, and suddenly existed as simply…

  Woman.

  Had she ever been so turned on in her life?

  Her nipples, now glossy with her own secretions, chilled in the air, sending a jolt from her breasts to her sex. He followed her hand as she slid it down her stomach to play with her opening. Tilting her hips, she slid two fingers inside, sucking in air through her teeth at the sensitivity.

 

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