The Grandmaster’s Legacy: Masters of Love and War (A Taylor Lee HOT Historical Romantic Suspense Collection) (The Grandmaster's Legacy)
Page 135
“Okay. You asked for it. You sit over there and behave. And yes, I do have some craisins. The look like little red berries.”
She was still laughing when she turned her back and got out her rolling pin. She worked for several minutes and then made him hide his eyes while she put her pan in the oven.
Cheerfully humming along with the Christmas music, Brady began decorating his gingerbread breasts. He ignored Tiffany’s giggles as he worked diligently on the pink nipples. When he was finished he held them up for her inspection, then with a flourish, pressed a bright red craisin on top of each.
She was laughing so hard she had tears rolling down her face, when he pulled her toward him. But he frowned at them.
“Something’s not right. Come here, Tiffany.”
Before she could protest, he’d whipped her t-shirt over her head and freed her breasts. Cupping them in his big hands, he nodded his head.
“Ah, I see what I did wrong.”
To her shrieks of laughter and false protests, he reached behind himself and scooped up a handful of frosting. To her faux-horrified delight, he spread it all over her breasts and placed a tiny craisin on top of each hard peaked nipple. Several minutes and one astonishing orgasm later, he’d almost licked off all of the frosting.
At that moment, the oven timer rang.
She put her hand over his eyes. “Turn your head, don’t look!”
He laughed. “That’s gonna be hard, darlin’ when the baker still has pink icing on her beautiful bare breasts.”
She opened the oven and laughed out loud.
“Oh, oh! These ‘rose’ a little more than I expected.”
Looking over her shoulder, Brady roared when he saw that she had made a reasonably anatomically correct phallus, supported by two round testicle-like balls.
He was still laughing when she looked up at him in mock seriousness.
“Brady, I need to see something.”
He pinned her with a suspicious look. “Hmm, like what?”
She smiled. “Do you mind taking off your pants?”
He grinned. “Under ordinary circumstances, no. But… Well given that you bared your gorgeous breasts for me so that I could make sure I was making them correctly—”
As he unzipped his jeans, he guffawed.
“Don’t want to shock you baby, but I can’t be within five feet of you before my dick comes to full attention.”
When he stripped off his pants and stood naked before her, her eyes widened and she pressed her hand against her mouth.
“I… I see what you mean.”
Glancing from the suddenly miniscule-looking ‘cookie’ to his iron-hard shaft that reached nearly to his navel, she sighed. Reaching for the bowl of icing, she giggled. “I guess it would be better if I just decorate the real thing, or we’ll run out of frosting.”
She sunk down on her knees before him and looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with saucy laughter.
“Tell you what, soldier boy. How about you spread your legs so that I can do this ‘work of art’ justice.”
He groaned as she cupped his balls in her little hands and massaged them one at a time.
Brady’s voice was thick with desire. “Damn, Tiffany. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
She winked at him. “We’ll find out, won’t we?”
She dipped her hand into the bowl of frosting and carefully spread a thin coating over his prodigious staff and all around his testicles. Biting down on her lip to keep from laughing, she began stroking him slowly up and down using the sticky mess to add friction to her erotic assault.
Brady gasped and choked out a half-hearted protest. “Darlin’, you know you are making a mess.”
She tossed her head and sniffed. “Hmm. I guess I’ll just have to clean it off.”
Starting at the head of his cock, she began to lick and suck on him, paying special attention to the sensitive place on the underside of the head.
“God, baby!” Brady tried to move her back, but she shoved his hands away.
“Uh uh. This is my treat.”
Tiffany’s voice tightened with excitement.
“Like you, Brady, I love frosting and I’ve never in my life tasted frosting as good as this.”
When he threw back his head and groaned, she whispered, “I want you in my mouth. I want to taste you, all of you. Deep in my mouth.”
He protested, “But baby, I’m big. I… Oh God, honey—”
His protest died in his throat as she took him deeper into her mouth. With a hard groan he grasped her head between his hands and with words and deep animal sounds taught her how to drive him insane, the way that he did her.
He came so hard that his legs gave out under him. He sunk to the floor shaking. Leaning against the wall, he closed his eyes and took deep, hard breaths.
She licked her lips, then snuggled against him and whispered, “Now you see what you do to me.”
He pulled her up close to him. His voice was serious.
“I pray to God, Tiffany, that I make you feel like this. Because I’ve never felt like this in my life.”
He held her close to him for several long minutes and then chuckled softly.
“Honey, as good as we both are at this licking business, I think a shower is in order.”
He stood, scooped her up in his arms, and headed for the shower.
Turning on the water full-force, he put her in the shower then climbed in after her.
“This is gonna be a tight fit, but then I don’t want to be more than two inches away from you at any time.”
He soaped her arms and legs then carefully shampooed her hair, wringing delighted moans from her when he massaged her scalp.
When he was finished, she captured the soap and began working the bar into his hard muscular shoulders. With a sigh, she began rubbing his glutes, marveling at the rock hard muscle.
“God, Brady, you are a beautiful man. And you have the most gorgeous butt I’ve ever seen.”
He grabbed the soap from her and began massaging her ass, running his hands up and over her curvy hips, across her belly, and then carefully and thoroughly between her legs. At her gasps of pleasure, he whispered, “Back at you, baby.”
Standing her before the shower, he dried her arms and chest, paying particular attention to her breasts. After drying her front and back, he toweled off her hair then scooped her up and carried her back to the bed.
Crawling in beside her, he murmured, “I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to get enough of you, Tiffany.”
He ran his hands over her back and bottom, then said in a low gruff tone. “Tiffany, do something for me, will you? Crawl up on your hands and knees and face that way so that I can get a better look at this glorious ass of yours.”
Chapter 10
She wasn’t sure when they finally fell asleep but it was closer to morning then night.
She startled when she heard Brady’s phone vibrate.
Like all soldiers, including her, Brady wakened instantly, coming from a sound sleep to wide awake in seconds.
She listened to him speak softly into the phone as a tight fist griped her heart, making it hard to breathe.
“Yeah?”
He was silent listening to the voice on the other end.
Then “Bangkok?”
“Aw, fuck.”
“How many girls? Ages?”
“Damn, Jake.”
“Yeah, I understand. No, it’s okay. Ten minutes. Max.”
The silence between was painful.
He sighed. “Tiffany—”
“I heard.”
“Darlin’”
“Don’t, Brady. I understand.”
Brady groaned and rolled over to the side of the bed, resting his feet on the floor.
“Honey, Jake has a bird waiting for me now at Yongsan airfield. He’s sent a car… Tiffany?”
She stretched and looked out the window.
“Brady, get dressed. The car is out there alrea
dy.”
While he was dressing and throwing his things in his duffle, she grabbed a terry cloth robe, and wrapped it tightly around her.
He came back in the room and pulled her tight against him. His voice was low, gruff.
“Oh god, darlin’.”
He tipped her head back and leaned down and kissed her. Then he gathered her close to him and held her against his chest.
She whispered, “Don’t, Brady. Go. Please. Just go.”
He turned at the doorway. “Honey, as soon as I can, I’ll call.”
She nodded. “I know you will.”
He gave a heavy sigh. “You… you know it may be a while before I can. We’re gonna be in deep cover.”
She fought to control her voice. “Brady? Please be safe.”
“Oh, yeah. And honey, you too.”
She nodded.
He opened the door and then turned back to her. “Tiffany?”
She shook her head and put her finger on his lips and said, “Don’t.”
Giving him a little shove out the door, she pulled the door closed behind him.
For a long while she leaned back against the door. When her legs would no longer hold her up, she sunk to the floor and buried her head in her hands and sobbed.
~~~
On the 31st, Tiffany took advantage of the holiday to catch up on paperwork. The offices were quiet. Everyone was home preparing for the New Year’s parties. She looked up when Marty Marion came in.
“Wish you’d change your mind, Tiffany, and join Sara and me tonight. It might even be fun.”
“No, Marty, I’m fine. But thank you, anyway.”
He stood quietly for a moment. “Tiffany, I’m sorry if I’m out of line, but I’ve wanted to ask, but didn’t know how. Was I wrong to give him your address?”
Tiffany frowned, seeing the pain on his face. “Oh God, Marty, no. You weren’t wrong.”
She tried to stop them, but turned away as tears rolled down her face.
His voice behind her was gruff. “Have you heard from him?”
When she shook her head, he added, “You know when you’re undercover you can’t connect—”
“Marty, I am an undercover agent. I know the drill.”
“I’m sorry, Tiffany. Maybe… perhaps, I can pull rank—get a message through?”
She gave him a grim smile. “No, Marty. It’s better this way.”
He grimaced. “Probably. But Tiffany, I’m really sorry.”
She gave him a watery smile. “Don’t be. I had a Christmas that I won’t forget as long as I live.”
~~~
She riffled through her music and dug out an old Willie Nelson album. She sighed and smiled. Damn, I must really be feeling sorry for myself.
There was a knock at the door. She frowned, certain that her next door neighbors, the only ones who ever visited, were out for the night.
She opened the door and gasped. Brady was dressed in jeans, a black t-shirt, and black leather bomber jacket. He had a bottle of champagne tucked under his arm. His green eyes were sparkling. If she didn’t know better, she might think they signaled the presence of tears. Happy ones.
“Excuse me, ma’am. I must have the wrong house. I think that’s Willie Nelson I hear.”
She laughed and couldn’t stop her tears from falling.
When he put the bottle down and reached for her, she buried her head against his shoulder and looked up at him.
“Brady?”
“Yeah, darlin’?”
“I have a confession to make.” When he frowned and didn’t speak, she added, “I also like Elvis.”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Best I know that now, darlin’. How about we go inside and discuss your terrible taste in music. That okay with you?”
Tiffany nodded, and didn’t even try to wipe at the tears that were flowing freely down her face.
His voice was gruff. “One question, honey. Do you happen to have the 1974 Live on Stage in Memphis album? It’s my favorite.”
Afterword
Thank you for reading The Grandmaster Legacy, The Reckoning and Blue Christmas. I hope you enjoyed reading them as much as I loved writing them.
If you enjoyed my books do me a huge favor. Go back to www.Amazon.com, and please leave an honest review. Authors live and die by their reviews. The few extra seconds it takes really helps us authors out. Thank you!
Check Out My Other Contemporary Sizzling Romantic Suspense
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About the Author
I write Sizzling Romantic Suspense. My stories are the stories of my heritage. From the residue in my personal blender of mixed races, cultures and world views, my characters emerge. It comforts me to know that while evil slinks in the shadows, the “good guys” of the world sniff it out – and snuff it out.
You already know my stories are not your mama’s soft edged romances with swashbuckling heroes and blushing heroines. Heck no! These guys are arrogant alpha males and the feisty women who bring them to their knees –and vice versa… They fight hard, love hard and don’t mince words. They are dangerous men and women in dangerous times. Love, passion and ridding the world of evil? What’s not to like?
I am as real as the words on the page.
Contact Inf
ormation
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Copyright Information
Copyright, 2012 by Taylor Lee
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All rights reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Characters, incidents, places and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No portion of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Any inquiries can be made to: www.taylorleebooks.com or taylorlee@taylorleewrites.com
Contents
Start Reading
Contents
Afterword
About the Author
Copyright
Other Works by Taylor Lee
Big Girls Don’t Cry | In the Still of the Night | Playing With Fire | The Volkov Affair
The Grandmaster’s Series
Struck By Thunder
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | Epilogue
Race for Redemption
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | Epilogue
The Frenchman’s Woman
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | Epilogue
The Frenchman’s Revenge
Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | Epilogue