Arranged (Dare to Dream Book 2)

by Jennifer Kittredge

  “That sounds lovely. Why don’t you go enjoy yourself? I have a few phone calls to make for work.”

  Submerged in the warm bath, I closed my eyes, thinking of the day I’d experienced. Walking the streets of Paris was more than I could have ever imagined. Walking with the handsome Sam Andrews was a definite bonus. I so wished we had met at another time—a time before each of us felt the hurt and pain that others inflicted in our lives. A time where we could have perhaps been ‘it’ for each other and lived happily ever after. I didn’t know if there really was such a thing anymore. It seemed that in this day and age, people were happy to hop in and out of relationships, thinking the grass was always greener on the other side. It was as if relationships were disposable, and like a carton of milk, when expired, were thrown into the recycle bin. I sighed heavily.

  In another lifetime, maybe.

  I always felt Sam’s presence before I saw him. The vibe of the room changed when he was near. I looked up from the bubbles to see him holding two glasses of wine in his hands.

  “Mind if I join you, Mrs. Andrews?”

  “Not at all,” I said, taking the wine glasses from his hands.

  I watched as he undressed slowly before me. I held my breath as I drank in the sight of him. My eyes roamed over his body, first taking in his finely sculpted muscles that made up his firm chest. I moved to his arms, which were strong and muscular, then down to his abdomen that was flat as a washboard and culminated in the perfect ‘v’ between his hips. The mere presence of him caused my stomach to clench. He was a work of art, really, chiseled in all the right places. He climbed in and sat opposite me. I handed him his wine glass and he asked, “Relaxed?”

  “Yes, very. Everything okay with work?”

  “Yes and no. Marcus is trying to stir up trouble with one of my investment properties. He put in a higher bid after they accepted my offer. Now they’re trying to get out of it. Gabe’s handling it.”

  “I’ll never understand how people can behave that way. I just find it hard to wrap my brain around it.”

  “Well, for one thing, men are competitive. It’s natural for us to compete. Marcus, though, takes it to a whole new level. He’s jealous of me. Jealous of my lifestyle. Jealous of all I’ve built. In fact, he’s so jealous he was willing to sleep with my girlfriend just so he could hurt me.”

  “What kind of person does that?”

  “A narcissist. Plain and simple.”

  “He sounds like a real pain in the ass.”

  “He is, but I can handle him. He hates that I always win, but he’s simply not that good at the game. He makes poor investments and chooses even worse business partners. I hate to think about the people he’s involved with. They’d just as soon turn on him.”

  “It sounds dangerous.”

  “It is. He thinks he’s above it all, believes he’s untouchable. I believe everything you do comes back to you in one way or another. He’ll get his desserts. Karma’s a bitch, as they say.”

  “It certainly is.” I held up my glass in a toast.

  “To karma.” He grinned as we clinked glasses.

  I took a long sip of my wine, looking at him over the rim of my glass. He held my gaze, a slow smile spreading across his lips.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You’re a breath of fresh air, Sydney. I really hope we can remain friends after all this.”

  “We will be. It may take me a little time to adjust, but I promise you, we will always remain friends.”

  He set his glass down on the edge of the tub and leaned up to take my wine glass from me. Having set it down next to his, he pulled me forward so I straddled him, my legs wrapped around his back.

  “Until then, I like being able to take full advantage of you as my wife.”

  “I like you taking full advantage of me, Mr. Andrews,” I confessed.

  He dipped his head, taking my lips with his, his tongue possessive as it swept through my mouth. I felt his erection under me. Lifting myself, I let myself slide down slowly on his hard shaft. I groaned. Sam’s kiss grew more intense as we both moved to the rhythm of our desire. Rocking back and forth, kissing desperately, my orgasm began to build at the base of my belly. I held on tight to Sam, not wanting to let him go. He continued his slow, steady motion as I slid up and down his fullness. He reached his hand between my legs, finding my nub, and pinched it between his fingers.

  “Ah, that feels so good,” I admitted huskily.

  “You feel extraordinary, Sydney,” he replied, his voice hoarse with emotion.

  Swept away by the intensity of our desire, we both came hard and fast. Still kissing me, Sam caressed the side of my face softly. Our mouths melded together, and I never wanted this moment to end. Waves of pleasure continued to shudder through me as I came down from my orgasm.

  “Let’s get you in bed, Mrs. Andrews. We have a long night ahead of us.”

  Wrapped in a fluffy white towel, he led me to the bedroom. There was a spectacular gift-wrapped box on the bed.

  “What’s this?” I asked quizzically.

  “Open it,” he coaxed.

  My hands trembled as I reached for the box.

  “Go on,” he urged me, leaning forward, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

  I unwrapped the paper slowly, taking my time being careful not to rip the paper.

  “Sydney, tear into that thing!” he exclaimed.

  “It’s too pretty to rip open.” I giggled, grinning up at him.

  When I finally unwrapped the box, I lifted the lid and gasped.

  “Oh my!”

  “Do you like it?”

  I had no words for what stared back at me from inside.

  “Sydney?”

  “I…I…Sam, you shouldn’t have. I….” Tears flowed from my eyes.

  “I saw you admiring it at the art gallery. I knew you loved it by how much time you stood in front of it, inspecting it from every angle. It’s yours. A gift to remember this trip by.”

  I cried harder.

  “Sydney, what’s wrong? It’s a gift.”

  “It’s the nicest gift anyone has ever given me,” I managed to say between my sobs. He handed me a Kleenex as I tried gain my composure.

  “It’s even more beautiful than I remember,” I whispered.

  I took it out of the box, holding it up so I could admire it. I loved this painting. It had mesmerized me at the art gallery and I was even more captivated now that Sam had gifted it to me. Setting it back in the box, I turned to him, wrapping my arms around his bare chest.

  “Thank you. It’s the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received.”

  He returned my embrace. We stayed like that for a long time, not saying a word, his chin resting on my head. He unwrapped himself from my arms and led me to the bed.

  “Nap time, Mrs. Andrews,” he said quietly.

  I removed my towel, letting it fall beside the bed as I climbed under the sheets. Sam climbed in from the opposite side, meeting me in the middle. Pulling me close to him, he spooned me from behind. Curled in his arms, I fell into a deep sleep.

  I woke still wrapped in Sam’s arms, his lips kissing the back of my neck.

  “Mmmmmm…” I murmured.

  “Time to wake up, Mrs. Andrews,” he whispered in my ear.

  “Nooooo, five more minutes.”

  Sam kissed my neck again gently, sliding his lips down to my bare shoulder. I moaned.

  “Ah, always so willing. However, we don’t have time for our proclivities right now, so up you go. Your dress for this evening is hanging in the closet.”

  I grumbled as I swung my legs over the side of the bed. Plodding to the bathroom, I turned on the shower, letting it warm up before I climbed in. While I waited, I walked into the large master closet. I drew in a quick breath.

  “Oh, my gosh,” I breathed, barely audible, as a thrill of excitement coursed through me.

  A beautiful, sequined fuchsia knee-length cocktail dress was displayed in the closet. The halter had
a plunging neckline in front, the sides were open, and the fabric in the back of the dress was slender, giving it a sleek, sexy look.

  “It’s stunning,” I said aloud.

  “So, you like it?”

  I jumped.

  “Oh! You scared me. I didn’t know you were there.”

  “I wanted to see if you liked the dress.”

  “Like it? Oh, my gosh, I love it, Sam!” I squealed my delight.

  “I thought it would look stunning on you.”

  I knew my cheeks had turned pink by the heat that rose up in them.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Andrews, I have a hot date to get ready for.”

  I giggled as I brushed by him, walking naked to the shower.

  “You are quite the tease, Mrs. Andrews.”

  “You did say there was no time for our proclivities. Your words, not mine.” I smiled wickedly at him.

  “We’ll just have to make up for lost time later.” He winked at me as he walked out the bathroom.

  I was excited. I had no idea where we were going, but I felt like a fashion model in my fuchsia dress, red heels, and red handbag.

  “Wow.” Sam let out a long slow whistle. “I knew that dress would be perfect for you, Sydney,” he remarked, his eyes greedy with desire as I walked down the stairs toward him.

  He looked extremely handsome in his dark-grey suit, tie to match, loafers, and that slow, sexy smile spread across his face.

  “You look very handsome, Mr. Andrews.”

  Taking my hand, he pulled me into him and kissed me tenderly on the mouth. He ran his tongue along my neck and pulled the right side of my halter away, exposing my breast. I moaned, arching my back as his mouth opened, drawing my engorged tip between his teeth.

  “Ah, Sam…” I gasped, throwing my head back.

  Continuing his delightful torture, he exposed my other breast. Biting down gently, he captured my other peaked bud between his teeth. As he devoured my breasts with sweeping strokes of his tongue, a small, sultry murmur escaped me. He moved his mouth back to my mine, my exposed breasts pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped around my back, drawing me closer to him. Tearing his mouth from mine, he took a step back and kissed each breast before putting my halter back in place.

  “If we don’t leave now, we’ll never leave,” he whispered seductively before kissing me on the forehead. “As much as I would like to stay and revel in our proclivities, Mrs. Andrews, we do need to be going. Our driver is waiting, wondering where we are, probably worried we’re going to be late for our reservation. Ready?”

  I nodded my head yes, aroused with desire and stumbling a little as I tried to regain my composure.

  All eyes were on us as we walked through the lobby. I knew everyone was staring at Sam. His presence always commanded the room without him even trying to do so. It was something that simply radiated from him, so people automatically took notice.

  “They’re all staring at you, Mrs. Andrews. You’re quite a sight to behold,” he whispered into my ear.

  Oscar stood waiting for us as we exited the building.

  “Mrs. Andrews…madame, you are exquisite, like a work of art.” He took my hand, kissing the top of it before helping me into the car.

  Sam entered after me, and once we were settled, Oscar drove us to our destination.

  “Sam!” I squealed as we arrived at the Moulin Rouge.

  He grinned at me when I turned to look at him.

  “This is unbelievable!”

  “I thought you might like this one.”

  “Like it? I absolutely love it! You do know I watch the movie Moulin Rouge over and over? I think it’s spectacular and romantic.”

  “Yes, your sister told me. She was a wealth of information when it came to you and Paris.”

  Oscar opened the back door and helped me out of the Mercedes. We were led to a private door labeled VIP, which was opened immediately upon our arrival.

  “Mr. Andrews, Mrs. Andrews, welcome. If you’ll follow me.” The maître d welcomed us with his beautiful French accent, leading us upstairs to our table.

  I was entranced. We sat on the private balcony overlooking the venue, with a prime view of the stage. A chilled bottle of champagne sat on our table. Our server poured each of us a glass, giving us a few moments to look over our menu.

  “Cheers, Mrs. Andrews.”

  “Cheers, Mr. Andrews.” I held up my glass to clink with his.

  The night was extraordinary. The cabaret was beyond anything I could have imagined, and I was spellbound. The colors, lights, costumes, and different acts had my emotions all over the place. From laughing to holding onto the edge of my seat, it was a feast for the eyes and senses. Whenever my eye caught Sam’s, he was never looking at the show before us. Instead, his eyes were fixed on me. A slight smile tugged at the sides of his lips, then he nodded his head toward the stage, as if telling me to watch the show. I’d shift my focus back to the show, knowing his eyes were on me, a slight thrill traveling up my spine. When it ended hours later, Sam stood behind me, his chin resting on the top of my head.

  “What did you think of the show, Mrs. Andrews?”

  “It was spectacular! I loved it.”

  He ran his hands lightly up my arms and turned me to face him. Taking my chin in his hand, he tilted my head up, lowering his head to kiss me affectionately on the lips. Desire flared up in me. My earlier need had remained alive but dormant, the dull ache between my legs made more pronounced by his touch. My nipples hardened against the fabric of my dress. I craved his mouth on my aching peaks, wanting him to take each rigid bud between his teeth. Breaking our embrace, he took my hand in his and led me down the stairs to our car where Oscar waited for us. When we finally pulled up at our hotel, my desire was firing on all cylinders.

  “Night cap, Mrs. Andrews?”

  I knew he was torturing me on purpose. He knew I wanted nothing more than to be back in our hotel room so we can unleash our proclivities, but I played along.

  “I’d love one,” I said seductively.

  He smirked, his eyes giving me a knowing look.

  We sat at the same corner table as last night. It was secluded, well out of the way of the other patrons in the bar. The waiter took our order. Sam’s eyes were devilishly greedy as they drank me in. My heartbeat accelerated as images of his mouth on me invaded my thoughts.

  We hadn’t said a word to one another vocally, but our eyes had said more than we could ever say with mere words. My quickened pulse throbbed wildly. Sam finally broke our silence, halting the rampant trail of my thoughts.

  “Tell me, Mrs. Andrews…” he said alluringly, his eyes never losing contact with mine. “Tell me what you’re wearing under that dress tonight.”

  Bringing out my inner goddess, I smiled bewitchingly at him. “I’m not wearing anything under this dress, Mr. Andrews.”

  That charming smile spread across his handsome face.

  “Somehow, I thought that was the case, Mrs. Andrews.”

  He pulled my chair closer to his. Taking my hand in his, he kissed the top of it gently. Our waiter returned with our drinks. I reached casually for mine and took a sip of the mouth-watering liquid, letting it slip slowly down my throat. Sam caressed the bare skin on my side softly, arousing my already overactive senses. Anticipation washed over me as he leaned in close to my ear.

  “Want to know what I love, Mrs. Andrews?”

  “Mmmm hmmm.” My throaty response was barely audible.

  “I love bringing you to the brink, then holding you back, having you under my complete control. I love the way you surrender to me, opening yourself up to new proclivities with absolute trust in me. I love watching your eyes smolder with passion as waves of pleasure overtake your body. But what I love the most, Mrs. Andrews, is being inside you, your warmth wrapped around me as I thrust deeper and deeper into you.”

  He pressed his lips to the side of my neck. I shuddered, arching to give him further access.

  �
�Tell me what you love, Mrs. Andrews,” he whispered into my neck.

  I wanted to cry out, “You! I love you,” but I knew better than to let those words slip past my lips, knowing they wouldn’t be received well, or reciprocated. I thrust the thought aside. This game between us was what I had, a wild, untrammeled ride of sheer passion and unbridled lust, and it was enough. I would throw myself into that and pull all I could from it, and not allow that other reality to spoil even a single second.

  “I love everything you mentioned and more.”

  “Tell me about more,” he coaxed huskily.

  “I love when you command my body. I love the way my body responds to your every touch, both gentle and not so gentle touches. I love those damned nipple clamps”—pinpricks trickled down my neck—“and the way you make me feel an intoxicating mixture of both pleasure and pain. But my favorite…” I was still flushed, aroused as much by our interchange as by the fact that it took place in public, where anyone could have heard us. “My favorite is when you’re plunging deep inside me.”

  My breathing, by now, was labored. Sam slid his hand up my inner calf, tantalizing me as the ache between my legs throbbed wickedly.

  “Let’s get you upstairs, Mrs. Andrews.”

  I nodded, not saying a word. I was wound too tightly to speak. In the elevator, we were surrounded by a few others making their way up to their rooms, so we remained silent. Still, the taut expectation remained between us, a vibrant connection that enclosed us in our own intimate secret. Sam stood behind me, gliding his hands slowly up and down my exposed skin. He trailed his fingers along the side of my breasts, causing me to inhale quickly, then look around. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice. My nipples peaked as I leaned my head back against his chest.

  The elevator stopped at our floor, and he led me out easily, stopping out front of our door. He leaned down, taking my mouth fervently with his. I drifted into him, my tongue lashing his. He fumbled the door open, then pushed me inside backwards while still claiming my mouth. My arms wrapped instinctively around his neck. He slid my halter to each side, exposing my breasts, pinching my nipples between his fingers. I groaned. Bringing my hands to his chest, I unbuttoned his shirt slowly, sliding it off. His hard, bare chest felt delectable against my breasts. With both strong hands, he turned me around so my back was against his chest. He lifted my dress up to caress the cheek of my ass.