by Taylor Lee
Tara was silent. If anything, her posture had become more rigid as he described his reaction to the remarkable land before them. Griffin stopped talking, hoping that the silence would encourage her to speak. She hadn’t said anything since her ugly allegation that she didn’t understand why he’d found it necessary to fuck her before he screwed her. As angry as her accusation had made him, he wasn’t surprised that she’d scoffed at his assertion that he thought he loved her. Frankly, he’d been as shocked as he was sure she’d been at his unexpected declaration. Remembering their two remarkable nights together, there was no way that either of them could ignore the passion they’d shared. Maybe it wasn’t love, but it sure as hell was more powerful than anything he’d ever felt with another woman. He refused to let her dismiss it. But that challenge would have to wait. First, he needed her to understand that in surprising ways, he was as dedicated to the preservation of this astonishing land as she was. Her angry accusation allowed him an opening. “If you like it so fucking much, why do you want to destroy it?”
Sucking in a deep breath, he rose to his feet and then tugged her up beside him. Refusing to relinquish her hand, he led her over to a corner of the ridge and pointed to the land to the north of the ravine. “Look beyond that rise, Tara, to the rolling hills. While you see pristine land, I do as well. But I also see possibilities. I see homes for people who love this land as much as you do and who never thought that they could be lucky enough to live here. To the left where the land flattens, I see a school and a community center.” Excited about his ideas, he wasn’t surprised that his voice rose. “What I also see, Tara, are green spaces, and over there by the San Pedro River, I see a neighborhood park where children can play in the water.” He laughed softly, “I know you think I’m foolish, but I can almost hear their excited shrieks, their laughter. It reminds me of the people who came before, who loved this land as much as you do—as I do.”
He held her in front of him and when she didn’t resist, actually leaned against him, he murmured, “I could use your help, Tara. You could help me make this development more environmentally aware than any of my projects.” He felt her stiffen but he ploughed ahead. “I wish that you would talk to Robert Redhorse in Oklahoma. Robert was as concerned about my corrupting their tribal land as you are about this land. Robert and I worked together, and with his help and guidance, we created a project that has become the gold standard for environmentally sensitive development.”
Griffin wasn’t surprised when she pushed him away and turned a fierce glare on him. Her voice was scathing. “Is that what this is all about, Griffin? You need to co-opt me? Figure out how you can stop the eco-freak editor from preventing you from becoming even wealthier? And become even more victorious than you usually are? Heck, just think, you could add me to the list of all those grateful Indians and city fathers who fell for your charm and begged you to ravage their land. You know, that list you had Jia give to anyone outrageous enough to question you.” Holding up her hands to prevent him from reaching for her, she shook her head. “Sorry to tell you, but you could have saved yourself a couple of wasted nights, and heck, a pile of designer clothes. There’s not a fucking thing I can do to stop you. I’ve already talked to the people I thought would help me prevent you from ransacking the land.” She added bitterly, “I shouldn’t be surprised that you’ve already won over my most reliable supporters.”
Struggling with the fury that threatened to overtake him at her outrageous claims and not able to keep his voice from hardening, Griffin said carefully, “I’m not going to respond to that obnoxious accusation, Tara, at least at this time. I brought you here not to co-opt you, but to ask for your help. I’d hoped that I might be able to convince you that I care as much about this land as you do. And that together, we might be able to create something we both can be proud of.”
He forced himself to breathe deeply. Then, seeing her fierce expression, he decided it was hopeless. He shook his head and turned to walk back to where he’d parked his Harley. He had nearly reached the bike when, to his surprise, she called after him.
“Griffin . . . I . . . I . . . Don’t go.”
Frowning, he turned back, surprised to see her expression. Seeing her strained countenance, if he didn’t know better, he might think she was sorry for her outburst, that she might even be trying to apologize. Holding his ground, he waited for her to have her say.
He saw her visibly swallow and then say in a barely audible voice, “I . . . I . . . already talked to Robert Redhorse. I also talked to Sally Whitefeather and Peter Longbow and a couple of other representatives on the list that bitch Jia gave me . . . ”
Again, after visibly swallowing, she blew out a hard breath and added, “Each of them agreed to write a guest editorial describing what they believe Black Enterprises did for their tribes. I plan to publish them alongside other less flattering editorials from people who feel more like I do.”
Griffin pressed his lips together in a firm line. He blew out an audible breath, then slowly walked back to her. Reaching for her arm, he managed to say in a reasonably quiet tone, “Is there a reason you didn’t bother to tell me this until now?” When she just shook her head and refused to meet his gaze, he tightened his grip on her arm. When she tried to pull away, he shook his head. “Not a chance, sweetheart. You think you can attack me the way that you just did, then calmly assert that you are going to publish editorials that actually support my work?” When she nodded and again tried to pull away, he gripped her more firmly and snapped, “Think again, darlin’.” Sucking in an audible breath, he didn’t couch the anger threatening to overtake him. “I could tell you it doesn’t matter, that you can attack me all you want in the most despicable ways possible and then blithely assert that, oh, by the way, you will be publishing columns by supporters of mine.”
She quickly interjected. “I’m also publishing some that don’t support you. From people who feel the way I do.”
He pinned her with a narrowed gaze and didn’t bother to hide his contempt. “I see. And in the editorials that oppose my work, presumably the ones you write, will you bother to explain why you just attacked me the way that you did? That you accused me of making love to you in order to get your fucking support for my goddamned development? Is that something I can expect to read in your fucking editorials? How I could have saved myself a . . . let’s see. How did you put it? Oh yeah, now I remember. You said I ‘could have saved myself a couple of wasted nights, and a pile of designer clothes.’ Did I get that right, Tara?”
Seeing her lips tremble and tears flood her anguished eyes, Griffin was shocked at his reaction. Tightening his grip on her arm, he jerked her up next to him. His voice was low and so riddled with anger it surprised him. “I have an idea, Tara. How about we strip those expensive clothes off of you and I lay you out on this holy ground of yours and fuck your brains out? Does that work for you, baby? Hell, in one fell swoop, we can take care of the clothes issue and waste another day fucking you.”
Startled at how truly angry he was, he tried to step back, but she held up her hand, stopping him. Her face was alabaster white except for bright scarlet splotches flushing her cheeks. But it was the expression he saw in her eyes that stopped him, froze him in place. He would have thought he was crazy if it weren’t for what she said and did next.
She swallowed hard, then said in a barely audible voice, “If that’s what you think you should do, what I deserve, what’s stopping you?”
He wasn’t sure how he had enough spit in his mouth to answer her. He almost didn’t recognize his harsh voice. It was a guttural rasp at best. “Hmm. You may be right, Tara. The more I think about it, the more I agree. That is exactly what I should do to you.” Yanking her up next to him, he reached for her hair. Ripping out the tie holding her ponytail in place, he freed the golden mass, then wound it over one hand and used it to jerk her head back, forcing her to look up at him. Seeing her shocked expression, he could only imagine what he looked like. As it was, he wasn�
�t sure he could contain the rage he was feeling, contorted as it was with pure, unadulterated lust. Murmuring softly against her ear, he managed to speak. “Yes, goddamn you, that is exactly what I am going to do. I’m going to strip off these expensive clothes, and like you more delicately suggested, I’m going to fuck your brains out.”
Scooping her up in his arms, he carried her over to one of the tall pines shading the top of the plateau. Laying her on the bed of pine needles, he ripped off her shirt, preparing to pillow it under her head. To his shock, he saw that she was wearing the cup-less red bra. As the creative designer could have only dreamed in his most erotic musings, her startlingly full breasts were surging through the empty lacy circles surrounding them, accentuating their fullness. As if the abundant flesh needed to be accentuated. He gazed at her soft pink nipples that were hardening into tight peaks. Looking down, he realized that he had to know if she’d also donned the red lace thong. Sure enough, before he got her skinny jeans over her slim hips, he saw the flash of red. With a hard groan, he stripped off her jeans, dragging them over her long, toned legs, taking her socks and sneakers with them. Stretching her out on the ground, he rose up on his knees and surveyed her. Fighting to contain the rush of testosterone flooding him, he promised himself he would be gentle. He wouldn’t attack her the way that his body was demanding. Unfortunately for his libido, at that moment, she slightly separated her knees, revealing her puffy labia. He would later blame the crotch-less panties, revealing her succulent pussy framed in fiery red lace, for sending his arousal into the stratosphere. And for taking her as wildly and unapologetically as he did.
Chapter 15
Tara knew when she put on the racy bra that she was insane to think that she would actually wear it. Testing herself further, she reached for the wisp of red lace that was supposed to be a thong and dragged it over her long legs and curvy hips. Staring at herself in the mirror, her first impulse was to laugh. To say that she looked ridiculous was an understatement. But, turning in a slow circle to examine the full view, she conceded that if the scandalous bra and panties hadn’t been made for her voluptuous body, they should have been. Preparing to strip them off, she hesitated. Glancing at the way her full breasts protruded through the empty cups of the bra and the sight of her intimate labia visible in the outrageous thong, she was horrified. Knowing that Griffin would go crazy if he saw her in them, she wondered if she could be brave enough to wear them. She was even more stunned when the thought of him seeing her in the indecent scraps of lace sent a shockwave of electric sensations to her core.
Closing her eyes to the outrageous sight that was provoking an unexpected and unwelcome reaction in her amped-up body, she surprised herself when she reached for the expensive jeans on the counter and yanked them on. Seconds later, she’d added the Dolce and Gabbana shirt and covered it with the gorgeous Chloé jacket. Adding her sneakers and refusing to look in the mirror, certain she couldn’t face the woman she would see there, she headed for the door to meet the most outrageous and surely the sexiest man she’d ever known.
Now, lying on the bed of pine needles, naked except for the scandalous underwear, Tara forced herself to look up at the man kneeling over her. She wasn’t surprised to see the fury that was rippling off him in waves. How could he be anything but angry? She knew she had cut him to the bone. She’d taken his solicitous attempt to show her how deeply he felt about the land before them and sneered at it. She’d not only refused to consider his sincere offer to see if they could come together on their divisive issue, but she’d spit in his face. Moreover, she’d attacked him at his core. Accused him of fucking her in the process of screwing her. It was an ugly accusation and, she knew, an untruthful one. If anything, the dishonest, cowardly person was her.
Griffin had told her that he was falling in love with her. A declaration that was unquestionably premature, but he’d had the courage to put words to the extraordinary feelings and actions between them. In addition to scorning his declaration, she’d minimized it. To be truthful, she’d torn it to ugly shreds. Rather than falling in love with her, she’d accused him of fucking her so he could co-opt her, get her support for his project.
At first, she hadn’t understood why he was so angry when she told him that she’d talked to his admirers and was planning to publish columns in favor of his development. Now, she was beginning to acknowledge how dreadful her actions were. She hadn’t had the decency or the courage to admit to him or to herself that he wasn’t the blackhearted robber baron she’d accused him of being. Even in the face of compelling evidence to the contrary, she’d continued to accuse him of planning to rape the land and essentially rape her to accomplish his nefarious goals. The depth of her perfidiousness was glaringly apparent, even to her, when she refused to admit that he cared as much for the land as she did. She’d scorned his touching assertion that they could work together to meet both of their needs. Moreover, with a heart-wrenching start, she acknowledged that if anyone was falling in love, it wasn’t the man brave enough to make the damning declaration—it was her.
Staring up at him, Tara was startled by the intensity she saw in his flashing emerald eyes. She acknowledged that she’d seen raging green seas crashing against rocky shores that were less turbulent than the emotions she saw in his formidable gaze. He was glaring down at her as if he were struggling to keep from attacking her. While she knew, or hoped she did, that he wouldn’t hurt her, she admitted that she was frightened by the fierceness in his gleaming eyes.
“Why . . . why did you wear these?”
She was surprised by his growling inquiry. Then, remembering the sight she’d seen in the mirror, she understood.
Her quaking response was barely audible. “Wear . . . what . . . ”
Grabbing the strap on her bra, he growled, “This, damn you! Why did you wear this?” Snatching the edge of the flimsy thong, he snarled, “Or this?” When she didn’t answer because she couldn’t breathe, much less respond, he twisted the fragile material, tightening it against her already swollen labia. Leaning over her, he brushed his lips against her ear. His whisper was harsh, insinuating. “Did you want to tease me further? Is that what you wanted to do, Tara? Torment me? Make me acknowledge how much I want you? Tell you that the sight of you naked or embellished with these whorish scraps of lace drives me to heights of passion I’ve never experienced? Is that why you wore these, Tara? To taunt me while you ripped my heart to shreds with your ugly accusations?”
Truly horrified by his impassioned indictment, Tara could only shake her head from side to side. Then, forcing herself to acknowledge the pain underlying his anger, she whispered, “No, Griffin. I wore them . . . because I wanted you to make love to me. To make you want me. To think that I am . . . that I can be as sexy, as provocative as you are.” Seeing his deepening frown, she added, “That you will want me as much as I want you.”
Griffin stared down at her. Balancing on his hands and knees, he managed to keep his raging body from doing what he wanted to do, ached to do. Which was ignore everything but his fulminating cock that was determined to take her, fuck her, as fiercely as he’d told her he would. But gazing at the sight of her beautiful body shown to outrageous perfection in the provocative red lace, Griffin forced himself to hear what she said. If it weren’t for the tears threatening her obsidian eyes and the scarlet patches staining her cheeks, he would have been tempted to think that she was as much of a disreputable tease as he’d accused her of being. But seeing her gnaw at her swollen bottom lip and acknowledging the tears that were escaping her lush lashes, he managed to control his anger.
He forced himself to see the woman who was gazing up at him and acknowledge the truth about her . . . and about him. This was the woman he’d whisked away from his coming out party and done things to her body, and surely her spirit, that no other man had come close to doing. He knew that while she wasn’t a virgin, she was damn close. Certainly when it came to the way that he’d forced her to strip and then endure a range of provoc
ative assaults he was confident she’d never known, likely never imagined. But rather than saying stop, as he’d assured himself he would have done if she’d said the word, she had given herself to him openly, eagerly, coming close to begging him not to stop.
Now, after more assaults on her body and spirit than he cared to catalogue, she’d confessed that she wore the scandalous underwear to prove to herself, and to him, that she could be as sexy and as provocative as he was. Blinded by the knowledge that this gorgeous woman who was more than the equivalent of the most incendiary men’s magazine’s centerfold was as innocent as she was, he forced himself to pull back. Managing to contain his fearsome arousal, he smiled down at her. Knowing it was foolish to think that she didn’t see the tears that were escaping his eyes, he managed to murmur, “Jesus God, Tara, if you were any sexier, any more provocative then you are, I would have to clothe myself in a Kevlar bodysuit to keep from assaulting you the moment I saw you. As it is, darling, I’m going to try not to embarrass myself by spilling like a randy teenage boy and instead make love to you the way that you deserve.”
Griffin was gratified when she brushed at the tears on her face and then at the ones on his, and asked tremulously, “How . . . how would that be, Griffin? What way do I deserve?”
He groaned and said as he rose up over her, “Christ, baby, the way that a woman deserves to be fucked, a woman who is even sexier, more provocative than her outrageous underwear. As for how she deserves to be loved, make that harder and deeper and more lovingly than her besotted lover had known he was capable of.”
