Blended (Redemption #1)

by Sasha Brümmer

  “I have a yacht, and we’ll be dining on it this evening.”

  “Holy crap. You seriously don’t hold back, do you?”

  “Not if I’m after something that I believe I want,” I say firmly as we turn off of North Lake Shore Drive and into Belmont Harbor. Jacobs stops at the third dock from the end of the harbor, and I don’t wait for him to get out of the car. I open the door and get out before offering my hand to Hadley.

  “Wade, this is more like fifth-date material, not first. I mean . . . not that I’ve ever even made it to the second date before, but this is excessive.”

  “You agreed to one date. I need to take full advantage of it while I have the opportunity to do so.”

  “There we go again with your taking advantage of me. You’re going to make me wet.”

  I stop and take her and her dirty mouth in. “I’ve never met a woman with balls of steel like you have.”

  “They’re lady balls, Wade, but I don’t mind thinking about your balls. Mmm, the way they would hit my clit while you take me from behind does something to my panties.”

  There it is.

  Once I’ve gotten it down, my cock stirs again and hardens. This woman is determined to be fucked on every possible surface, and my body does not understand why I’m refusing her. I do, though, because there’s something in her eyes when she says things like this that looks as if it’s compulsory or part of a routine. She obviously craves sex, but who doesn’t? Yet, I’ve never met a woman so blunt in her offers and approach before. I’ve had my fair share of women—more than I’m willing to admit—but none of them have been as mouthy as she is.

  “Hadley, I won’t be fucking you this evening. I’d like to get to know you.” As much as it pains me to say this, I feel as if it’s the right thing to do, to take it slower with her than I ever have with any woman before.

  Her shoulders seem to relax, and though I would assume she’d put up a fight, her body tells me otherwise—that is until she opens that pretty little mouth of hers. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  “Listen closely, Whiskey and Rye.” I pull her flush against me just as we step foot onto the dock and move one of my hands through her curls to the back of her neck, forcing her to look up at me while my other hand rests at the small of her back.

  “I don’t date women in Chicago. I don’t date in general. I fuck, and when I fuck women, that’s the last I see of them because I don’t want a thing more from them. This, though . . .” I move my hand to gesture between us. “ . . . There is something more than just sex hanging in the air between us, and I know that you can feel it as well. You might tell me that all you want from me is a good lay, but your body says otherwise.”

  Her lips part as she draws in a shallow breath. “I . . .”

  “No. I will not allow this to be negotiated as if it’s some sort of exchange for sex. This evening, you owe me your company during dinner and your thoughts. Not your body.”

  “I don’t have a say, do I?”

  The static hum between us grows louder as if it’s waiting to shock one of us.

  “You don’t, but I’ll oblige you for a second, considering your body won’t take no for an answer,” I say, and she looks down at her body. She’s pressed herself against me entirely without even thinking about it. Her feet are nestled between mine, and her hands are resting against my chest.

  When she looks up at me again, I shift my hand from the back of her neck to the side where I run my finger along her pale jaw. Her eyes move to mine slowly as I bring my lips toward hers. She’s perfectly still under my touch, despite the urgency I sense within her, but I refuse to let her rush this.

  Her body starts to tremble as I take in her very essence. I lower my lips to touch hers for the first time. The electric current that was in the air surrounding us passes through our lips as she kisses me back. Her lips part without my having to ask for permission and I take the opportunity to explore more of her. I dip my tongue inside of her mouth, and she doesn’t stop me or force me to take more. I’m possessing her completely as our lips lock and our tongues travel together.

  Her hands move off of my chest, and she brings both arms up to encircle my neck, pressing her chest to mine. With this one kiss, I can feel my world crack open as she leans into me . . . before we both break away from each other. She looks up into my eyes and captures her bottom lip between her teeth before one of her hands comes to touch her lips as if she’s shocked by the intimacy of the kiss.

  “Would you like for that to happen again?” I ask her as she tries to regulate her breathing.

  “I think so.”

  “Good, now come.” I pause as I take her hand in mine, speaking again before she can. “And do not turn that into anything sexual.”

  She looks stunned as she lets me intertwine my fingers with hers. She nods and walks quietly with me down the quay with yachts flanking us on either side. She remains quiet until we reach the end of the berth and we come to a stop in front of my yacht.

  “You own this thing? It’s enormous.” She looks up and takes in its pure brilliance and majestic features. “When you said yacht . . . I thought you meant something like row, row, row your boat. Not this . . . vessel.”

  I chuckle and dig my hands into the pockets of my slacks, angling my head to the entrance. “Climb aboard. I do own her, along with two more on this quay.”

  She peers down at the gap between the gangway and the yacht before looking back at me. “You’re not going to make me walk the plank or something, are you?”

  “Not for a second.” I step over the gap effortlessly and offer her my hand. “Come.”

  She opens her mouth to respond with a witty retort, but closes her lips when she sees the expression on my face, daring her to say more.

  Wisely, she keeps silent as she takes my hand, and I help her across the gap, pulling her hard enough for her to crash into my chest. I automatically ring my arms around her as she begs me for my lips without a word.

  I give them to her, pleasing her when I slide my tongue against hers before pulling away.

  “Aren’t you supposed to kiss me at the end of the date? Like in all of those other fairy-tale dates?”

  “This is not a fairy tale, Hadley. This is real.”

  I watch as tension dissipates from her body, causing the features on her face to somehow become softer. In this silent moment, I take the opportunity to study those turquoise eyes of hers, which are swimming with something unnamed . . . what? It’s some kind of emotion, but it’s hidden in the depths of them. Fear, maybe. Possibly, but of what, I’m unsure.

  I lead her up a flight of exterior steps to the second deck where the crew waits for us. “Hadley, this is our crew for the evening. If you need anything, please feel free to ask them.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Mr. Brass, the captain is ready to depart, and your table on the upper deck is prepared.”

  “Good,” I say before taking Hadley’s hand and leading her inside. She gasps when she sees the contemporary, yet warm and inviting design of the vessel. I chuckle at each of her reactions until I lead her up two more flights of stairs to the top deck.

  “This is where we’re dining?” she asks as she looks around at the burning tiki torches placed on the deck and the tropical fruit spread out on the table.

  “It is unless you’d prefer to go elsewhere.”

  “This is . . . impeccable.”

  The yacht starts to move, and she grabs hold of my forearm as I’m pulling out the chair for her at our table for two.

  “Sorry, I—”

  I cut her off before she can finish her sentence. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

  She lets go of my arm once she takes a seat and her eyes scan the upper deck. There’s something so sexy and vulnerable about her. I decide to make it my mission to find out what causes her reckless behavior and what put that fear behind her eyes.

  I take a seat just as a cheese plate is brought out by a male waiter wh
o then proceeds to ogle my date. I make a mental note to remove him from my crew. Regardless if this is the only date I’ll get with her or if it’s the start of possibly more, I won’t let him desire something that is completely out of his reach. It’s this thought that makes me realize that I’ve already marked her as my own in my head, but I believe that she’s the furthest thing from being mine at this point in time.

  I turn toward the waiter and wait patiently for him to remove his eyes from her long enough to look at me. When he does, he meets my glare and cowers underneath it. Bastard.

  “Bring us two WhistlePig ryes, neat, when you return.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And one more thing. If you look at her once more this evening, I will have you removed from this vessel in the same second. Do you understand?”

  His eyes stay planted on mine, but mine stray to Hadley whose cheeks are glowing with a soft pink blush before I look back up at him.

  “Yes, sir,” he says before disappearing back into the yacht’s interior.

  Hadley’s eyes haven’t left mine and she’s sporting a winning smile. “Jealous much?”

  “More than ever. I don’t appreciate my staff enjoying a view that was made for me.”

  She reaches for the cheese knife and cuts off a piece of one of the blocks. “You’re rather territorial and confident in yourself, Mr. Brass. I wouldn’t like to work directly with you. I mean, Lawson was bad enough.”

  “You have worked beneath me, and I couldn’t give a shit what authority Lawson thinks he holds because he does not have it. Enough about someone who sleeps with his staff. This evening is about you.”

  She blanches and I know at that moment that he’s had his way with her. A flash of envy warms my body, catching me off-guard. I’m territorial over something that’s not mine. My bitterness is an indication that she has gotten into my head in a few short days.

  “I think that’s a good idea. So what is it that you do exactly?”

  “I’m an entrepreneur of sorts. I’ve built my company from the ground up with the help of one of my C-levels, who is also a silent partner in the company. I own a number of properties across the globe, all of which fall under Brass Global.”

  “Huh, well I suppose that makes sense considering the lap of luxury that you live in.”

  “Does it bother you?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I’ve been in the orbit of it before, but I’m not one to experience it on such a direct level. I suppose we’ll have to wait and see.”

  “I’ll take that as an implication that you wouldn’t mind my taking you out again.”

  She glances away from me when the waiter appears with our tumblers. She takes hers and lifts it to her lush lips, taking a drink before placing it down in front of her. My eyes do not move from her mouth, and she knows it.

  “That would depend on how the rest of the date goes.”

  “I’ll take that over being let down. Now tell me . . .” I take a drink and watch her, unable to take my eyes off her beauty. “Why did you corrupt my phone with your outlandish nickname?”

  A small laugh rises from her before she answers and fuck, I want to hear that sound again. I want to swallow it as I take her mouth with mine again. Who the fuck is this woman?

  “Well, it’s not all a nickname. My last name is Rye, so I figured it would work well with you.”

  “Rye, huh? I’ll be damned.”

  She moves her hair to the side, but her curls move back into place a moment later. “Mmm-hmm, now you tell me something. Why did you break your rules for me?”

  “It was a risk-or-regret situation. What would you have chosen?”

  The grin she gives me is not one that I’ve seen before. She looks content at this moment as if no one has taken a risk on her before and for some reason that truly bothers me.

  “If given the choice, I would have taken the risk.”

  “Precisely.”

  A few moments of silence pass between us as we both absorb the truth of our taking a risk on each other. I feel the yacht hit a larger wave that rocks the vessel harder than normal for this kind of weather. I lift my chin and look out into the darkness at Chicago’s skyline in the distance.

  “Come with me.”

  This time, she gets up and places her napkin on her seat without an argument. I’m surprised that I didn’t have to ask her twice. I walk with her to the bow on the upper deck and stand next to her with one hand in my pocket and the other turning the whiskey tumbler between my fingers.

  “Glance to your left. Chicago is showing off for you this evening.”

  She looks in the direction of the Chicago skyline, which is lit up in all of its grandeur. “Oh,” she gasps and reaches for my pocketed hand. I slip it out and move my arm around her waist to pull her side against mine. She doesn’t resist my advances, and she takes her own risk too, by resting her head against my bicep.

  A clearing of a throat interrupts us. I glance over my shoulder, ready to maul the motherfucker who just ruined this for her.

  “My apologies for the interruption, Mr. Brass. However, the storm that was forecast to hit the city in two hours has sped up tremendously, and we are right on the edge of it now. I would advise you to make your way to the vessel’s interior immediately.”

  “Thank you,” I say dismissively, and he leaves without another word.

  Hadley’s body stiffens in my hold. “Are we going to be okay? I mean, we’re so far away from the city.”

  “We’re farther out than I would like to be during a storm of this magnitude, but my captain is well trained and capable of handling her in the rougher waters.”

  She scrunches up her face at my words as the first few drops of water hit us. “Uhm, I think we better head inside if that’s what he asked then.”

  “I agree.”

  I take her hand and walk her back to the table where I place my tumbler down and grab my suit jacket just as the skies open up above with a crack of thunder. Large chaotic drops hit us as the gusts of wind carry them around, extinguishing the torches with harsh hisses.

  She squeals and steps closer to me, but we’re soaked within seconds. Platinum blonde tendrils cling to her cheeks, and I couldn’t give a fuck about the weather at the moment she looks up at me with want—or is it need—in her eyes? A need for me to keep her safe. I drop my jacket onto the deck and bring my hand up to her face to move the wet tendrils from her cheek. A shiver runs through her petite body when I cup her cheek. Her eyes are locked on mine as she leans up on her toes. I lower my mouth, a breath away from her red-stained lips.

  “I’ll keep you safe.”

  “I know,” she says before she closes the distance between us and her lips touch mine.

  I move my hand to the back of her head, twisting my fingers into her wet hair as she pushes her chest up to me and locks her arms around my neck, getting as close to me as possible.

  I think there is a flaw in my genetic code. How did I go from wanting to jump this man’s bones to wanting him to just touch me to calm my soul?

  I’m surrounded by his warm arms while he kisses the life out of me in the middle of this downpour. His tongue is massaging mine as one of his hands moves down from my shoulder to the small of my back, applying pressure to secure me to his body. I break away to remind myself to breathe before I pass out from the lack of oxygen.

  Rain falls steadily down on us; the drops are starting to hit with a heavier sting as the few intimate seconds of watching each other tick by. A drop falls on my bottom lip, and I lick it off with my tongue just as his lips crash against mine again. His tongue prods at the seam of my mouth, begging me for entrance. When I finally give it to him, he takes full advantage. His hand moves out of my hair and down my back to my ass. I expect him to cop a feel, but instead, he lifts me with both of his arms.

  “Wrap your legs around me,” he says as he breaks away from the kiss for a split second.

  I’ve never been more thankful for the slits in my maxi-skirt than
I am now as I do what he asks. When he’s comfortable with holding onto me, he starts to make his way across the deck just as a bolt of lightning lights up the skies.

  Holy shit, this storm is going to be intense, and we’re stuck out here, somewhere on Lake Michigan.

  He’s made it halfway across the deck when he stops and removes his lips from mine. “Focus on me, Rye.”

  How did he know I was starting to panic? Some male testosterone instinct?

  “Okay, Whiskey.”

  His soft, yet firm lips find mine again, and I lose myself to his touch and osculation of his tongue once more. I’ve never been kissed like this before. As if I actually mean something more than just a place to get a dick wet. If I had to guess, I’d say that he’s savoring this moment just as much as I am.

  I exhale contently against his lips as he pushes a door open. The raindrops suddenly stop hitting my overly sensitized skin. Instead of the water, a brush of cold air circles my body and I start to quiver in his arms. He walks down a flight of stairs without putting me down as he speaks against my lips. “You’re cold.”

  “A little,” I say with a smile. My teeth start to chatter, and he kisses me once more as he walks down a hallway that I haven’t seen before. He sets me down on my feet when he comes to a stop outside of a stateroom door.

  I use this opportunity to take in the sight of him. His white button-down is plastered against his chest, showing off his rather impressive body. A moan unintentionally escapes my lips as he swings the double doors open.

  “Like what you see?” he asks without a hint of cockiness in his voice. He’s genuinely curious about my opinion of his physique.

  I purse my lips. “Yes.”

  The smile that I receive in reaction would soak my panties if they weren’t already wet.

  “I’m glad. Come in and let’s get you warmed up,” he says as he leads me through the doors. “This is the master, and it’s where I stay when I take an overnight trip,” he says as he disappears through another door. I glance around the room that’s encased in dark wood walls, varnished to a high gloss. There is a row of windows that wrap around the room in a half circle, which are now covered with storm shutters. His bed sits against the only flat wall next to the double doors we came through, and there’s a seating area on the other side of the room. It’s such a warm and inviting space. I’m surprised it’s not decorated in all whites with straight lines and an overuse of odd shaped objects . . . it’s just . . . normal. Pricey and elegant, yet normal. He comes back into the large bedroom with a pair of sweatpants and a shirt.