Boardroom Rivals, Bedroom Fireworks!

by Kimberly Lang

  He levered himself into a sitting position, putting him a little too close for Brenna’s comfort. Those broad shoulders were only inches from her. “I’m finding that difficult to do.”

  She mustered her bravado, but it was still shaky from Jack’s simple proximity. “Guilty conscience?”

  “Not at all. I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

  She thought of his fingers trailing over her collarbone. We’ve always had this. She fought back the shiver. “And you don’t think your little ‘bargain’ was crass in any way?”

  He didn’t even have the decency to look the least bit chagrined. Instead, he seemed to be fighting back a smile. “It may have lacked finesse, but my motives were clear.”

  “Once more for old times’ sake?” Her voice shook, completely destroying the casual tone she was hoping for.

  “Is that really such a shocker, Bren? The pool, the moonlight…Are you denying it stirred up some fond memories for you, too?”

  “Emphatically.” She just needed to keep reminding herself of that.

  “You’re a bad liar. I was there, remember? I had my hands on you. I felt the way you shivered when you remembered exactly how good we were together.”

  “In bed, maybe. But I also remember the rest of our, ahem, ‘conversation’ last night. That also brought back memories—not all of them fond ones.”

  “We had some good times. You can’t deny that.” His hand came up to play with her hair.

  “Not enough to tip the balance.” She shuddered as his hand moved to her face. “We said—and did—some pretty horrible things to each other.”

  He shrugged away months of arguments and years of pain with “We were young. I’m not carrying a grudge. Are you?”

  “From then? Or now?” she countered, mainly to keep him talking. She couldn’t pull away, but this was moving into dangerous territory.

  “Ten years is a long time to carry a grudge.” His eyes searched her face and she shivered. “Me? I’m grudge-free.”

  “Then, here’s to putting the past behind us. Should we drink to that?” Anything to put a little distance between them.

  Jack shook his head slightly. He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, then traced his fingers over the curve of her jaw. “Beautiful. Tempting. Stubborn.”

  He was close—too close—his face only inches from hers. The gentle caress over sensitive skin and his husky, seductive voice sucked her in, while those blue eyes captured her and led her straight into temptation.

  And she desperately wanted to go. Every nerve in her body screamed for Jack to touch her. Her skin begged for it. She’d suffered the aftermath of last night all day—the achy need, the smoldering want. Her mouth went dry as Jack’s hand curved around the nape of her neck and his thumb smoothed over the tense muscles.

  Just one more time. Do you think you’ll ever get this chance again? Once her signature was on those papers, she’d have no reason to see Jack again. That thought put a strange hollow feeling in her chest—one that felt oddly familiar, yet strange, because until yesterday she would have sworn she was long over him.

  Jack reached up to remove the clip holding her hair back, and his fingers threaded through the mass to massage her scalp. She closed her eyes in bliss as the tension drained out of her, only for it to be replaced with an aching need. When she opened her eyes again she met Jack’s stare, and gasped at the hunger and promise she saw there.

  She was lost and she knew it. She always was when Jack looked at her like that. Anger, bruised pride, indignant huffs—none of it was able to stand firm against the need and desire he could fire in her.

  Jack seemed to know the moment she made up her mind, and he surged to his knees, pulling her to him and covering her mouth with his.

  Yesss. Oh, yes.

  It wasn’t gentle. Or nostalgic or sweet. Jack met her hunger head-on and returned it, his mouth devouring hers. His fingers tightened in her hair, holding her head still as his tongue slid over hers, and she shivered in response.

  Jack broke the kiss, sliding his mouth over her jaw to the sensitive skin of her neck. She panted, gasping for air as his teeth grazed her, and she tilted her head back to allow him greater access even as her fingers threaded through his hair to hold him there.

  She hadn’t forgotten this, but the memory was bland compared to the reality. She groaned, and Jack echoed the sound before his arms locked around her waist and he pulled her off the couch and into his lap.

  The feel of Jack’s hard body against hers as she straddled his thighs sent tremors through her insides, and she pressed into him, craving the heat and pressure. She pulled at his shirt, bunching it into her hands until she could reach underneath to feel the smooth planes of muscle on his back.

  Jack’s hot mouth traced her collarbone as his hands slid over her hips to her waist, and finally her ribs, where his thumbs could stroke teasingly against the undersides of her breasts. Her nipples tightened with anticipation and she arched back in invitation.

  Instead, Jack pulled her close, his mouth covering hers again, his hands snaking under the hem of her shirt and sliding it up with agonizing slowness. He broke the kiss to sweep the fabric over her head, then gently leaned her back, supporting her with one hand while the other grazed gently over the expanse of her chest and in the valley between her aching breasts.

  Brenna shivered, enjoying the tease of his touch yet hating the delay. She was on fire, needing more of him—all of him—before the anticipation killed her. One finger circled her nipple, causing her to clench her thighs around his as the pleasure rippled through her. The corner of Jack’s mouth turned up in pleasure at her response as he drove her slowly insane with his featherlight touch.

  Brenna concentrated on her shaking hands, reaching for the buttons of his shirt. Clumsily, she managed to work them through their holes, pausing occasionally to bite her lip when Jack’s slow, deliberate torture became too much. Finally, she pushed the shirt off his shoulders, and his chest was hers to touch.

  She echoed his movements, running her fingertips over the ridge of his pecs, teasing his nipples with her nails. His fingers tightened on her waist when he shuddered in pleasure.

  A split second later Jack flipped her to her back, her head landing on the cushion he’d used earlier, and his body finally covered hers. She moaned at the sensation of skin against skin, at the heat and weight of his body nestled in the vee of her legs. How could she have forgotten this? The memories paled in comparison to the reality. How had she ever walked away from this? Jack’s kiss sent her head spinning, but when his head dipped lower to capture her nipple between his lips fireworks exploded behind her eyes and she groaned his name.

  The sound seemed to spur him, and he suckled harder, causing her to nearly arch off the floor as pleasure shot through her. When his weight shifted off her, she reached for his waist to pull him back, but let her hand fall away when she felt the snap of her shorts release and the zipper give way.

  Her stomach tightened under his hand as it slid low and his fingertips tickled along the edge of her panties, while Jack’s mouth returned to hers for a shattering kiss. But one rational thought surfaced and made a weak, last-ditch effort: This is the point of no return. Are you sure?

  Her body answered first, twisting toward him, granting access, but Jack seemed to hesitate briefly, his kiss gentling as if he knew she was fighting one last battle against herself.

  Yes.

  She knew what Jack could do to her body; the guaranteed pleasure awaiting her. But she’d been faced with the hard fact today that she wasn’t as immune to him as she’d long assumed, and deep down she knew she’d be setting herself up for a bad fall in the morning, when Jack walked out of her life again.

  Was it worth the risk?

  Then Jack pushed the thin silk aside, and his fingers found her heated, needy center. Flames licked through her, leaving her panting against his kiss.

  Oh, yes.

  Jack felt the last of the uncertaint
y leave her body just as her thighs clamped around his hand and she shuddered in pleasure. He felt as if he was holding a live wire, and each little sound, every gasp, every tremor, zinged through him like raw electricity.

  The need to taste her, to take her, bordered on painful—even more so than the pressure against his zipper—but Brenna was already on the brink. She tore her mouth away and buried her face in his shoulder, muffling low, guttural noises. Brenna’s nails bit into his arms, holding him in place while she moved restlessly against his hand and he took her over the edge.

  She was still throbbing around his finger when she lifted her face to his. Her cheeks were flushed, but her brown eyes were clear and burning—for him. Oh, no, his Bren wasn’t done yet; she was still on fire. And, while he’d seen that look before and had even expected it, the raw hunger there slammed into him, causing his breath to catch.

  Brenna held his gaze as she released his arm and smoothed her fingers over the half-moon marks her nails had left. Then she lifted her hips, sliding her shorts and panties off and kicking them away quickly. A second later she released his zipper and grasped his straining erection. She moved so quickly she was an erotic blur, but at the feel of her hot hand on him he exhaled sharply, and closed his eyes to savor the sensation. Brenna had never been a meek partner, but there was an urgency behind her desire this time. He could feel it—in her heated touch, in the desperate movement of her lips, and through the maddening press of her body against his.

  He could relate. The same knife-edge cut through him.

  When his hand cupped her breast again she hissed and rolled to her back, pulling him over her.

  “Now, Jack,” she whispered, her breath hot against his ear.

  He wanted to slow her down, to savor the feel and taste of her, relearn her skin, but the desperate “Please…” she added had him adjusting her hips, parting her thighs, and driving into her so hard he saw stars.

  Brenna’s back bowed, nearly lifting her completely off the rug, and her fingers dug into his biceps for support. A sheen of moisture covered her body, and he could see the tiny trembles already moving through her. Her tight, throbbing warmth was sanity-snatching, and his hips moved of their own accord.

  As he eased slowly out Brenna’s head snapped up, her eyes connecting with his as her legs locked around his waist. Gathering her close to his body, he shifted his weight to his elbows and met her halfway as she thrust against him.

  He held Brenna’s stare as they rocked together, until her eyes glazed over and she buried her face in his shoulder again. He felt the nip of her teeth against his skin as short, sharp cries told him she was falling over the edge. Then Brenna tensed against him, shaking violently with the power of her orgasm. The sensation took him over with her and he groaned as he collapsed on top of her.

  It took a long time for reality to return, and when it did it came in pieces. The delicious weight of Jack covering her. The scratch of the wool rug against her back. The sound of Jack’s breathing evening out next to her ear. The thump of Jack’s heart against her chest. The lovely languorous feeling only a truly mind-scrambling orgasm could provide.

  And Jack was the only one who’d ever been able to scramble her mind like that.

  Jack had been right about one thing: no matter what else, they’d always had this. She stroked the back of his head absently, loving the silky feel of his hair between her fingers.

  Jack stirred. Pushing himself up onto his elbows, he brushed the hair back from her face before leaning in to give her a slow, stirring kiss. Then his lips curled into a breath-stopping smile. “Better?”

  She felt her face heat. He’d seen—and felt—that edge of her desperation. She tried to match his smile and act casual. “Oh, yeah. I’m feeling much better now.”

  “Good.” He kissed her forehead, rolled off, and pushed to his feet. He looked like a god standing over her—all golden-skin and lean muscle. She could stare at him forever and never get tired of the view. She let her eyes trail appreciatively over his body before meeting his amused eyes.

  He extended his hand and she took it, letting him pull her up. A moment later her feet were swept out from under her, and she found herself pressed against Jack’s chest.

  But Jack didn’t turn in the direction of the hallway to her room, or toward the kitchen and the far side of the house where his room was. Instead, he moved toward the French doors.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked.

  “The hot tub.”

  Chapter Seven

  WAKING up with a warm male body snuggled around her should feel…alien, or wrong somehow. But it didn’t. Neither did the strong hand idly caressing her breast, nor the erection pressing insistently against her backside. It felt almost right.

  The idle caress turned purposeful, with Jack’s thumb grazing across her nipple and sending a shiver through her. Correction, she thought, it felt amazing.

  “’Bout time you woke up,” Jack murmured against her shoulder. His hand changed course, sliding over her stomach and between her legs.

  She hummed in pleasure and parted her thighs to give him better access. Was there a better way to greet a Saturday morning? Weekend mornings had always been her favorite time when they were married. Jack hadn’t had to jump up and rush off to work or class, and the whole morning had been theirs to laze in bed, drink coffee, and make love without any pressure to do anything else. She smiled as the first small shudder moved through her. How many times had he awoken her just like this?

  Jack’s fingers were magic, slowly building the pressure until her hands were fisted in the sheets and her breath became labored. She moaned his name as she started to shatter, and she vaguely heard him encouraging her on with hot words in her ear.

  She reached for him then, pulling his head down to hers for a blazing kiss as she came apart. Jack’s tongue moved over hers like a wicked promise as he pulled her under him and kneed her thighs apart. The last tremor of her orgasm still vibrated through her as he slid slowly into her, causing the pleasure to continue instead of abate.

  She held Jack’s intense blue stare as he moved with agonizing slowness, setting a leisurely pace she knew would drive her insane. She bucked and writhed, trying to meet his thrusts, but Jack gripped her hips and kept her steady. Sensation built until she couldn’t take it anymore, and she grabbed the headboard as she arched against him and practically screamed his name. Only then did Jack speed up, slamming into her as she clung to him and climaxed again. Vaguely she felt Jack stiffen against her, and heard him shout her name in response.

  How long she lay there, waiting for her breathing to even out and her brain to restart, she didn’t know. Jack had moved to her side at some point, leaving one heavy thigh draped over hers, and his breath was evening out as well.

  Brenna cracked one eye, looked at the clock and groaned. People would be wondering where she was soon if she didn’t get moving. And she certainly didn’t need Di pounding on her door while Jack was still naked in her bed. She flipped back the sheet and tried to sit up, but Jack’s hand on her arm and his leg over hers held her in place.

  His eyes were still closed, but he smiled lazily. “Where are you going?”

  “To work.”

  “It’s Saturday. Wouldn’t you rather stay here? With me?” Jack trailed a hand over her suggestively. Promisingly.

  “It’s tempting.” Her body was primed for a long, lazy morning in bed, but she wiggled out of his grasp before she could give in. “But not all of us are lucky enough to be hotel tycoons. Some of us must go labor in the fields.”

  One eye opened slightly. “You did that already, remember?”

  “And now I must go check the fruits of my labor. Or actually the juice of the fruits.” She found her robe on the back of the bathroom door and pulled it on. “Don’t you have to go back to the city? Get some work done?”

  Jack rolled to his side and propped on his elbow. “I don’t have to. One of the many perks of being a tycoon, you know, is havin
g people on staff.” He crooked a finger at her. “Come here.”

  Oh, he was tempting. His hair stood up in adorable spikes—either from her hands or sleep. Wrapped in a sheet to his waist, with a dark shadow of stubble across his jaw, this Jack was one she remembered, and the lure to crawl back into bed was strong.

  “Tanks,” she muttered.

  Jack’s eyebrows went up. “You’re welcome. I think.”

  She shook her head at him and went to splash cold water on her face. And her libido. “I said ‘tanks’—as in fermentation. I need to go check the temperatures and the sugar levels. I won’t be gone long. Maybe a couple of hours.”

  “Have Ted do it.”

  “And what excuse would I give him for adding another task to his to-do list today?” Jeans. Bra. Panties. T-shirt. She pulled clothes out of drawers, tossing them onto the bed as she talked.

  “You’re the boss. You don’t have to give reasons.”

  “Maybe that works at Garrett Properties, but we’re a smaller operation here.” She bent at the waist to flip her hair over her head as she tackled the mass of tangles. Sex on the floor, sex in the pool, sex in the bed, going to sleep with wet hair—the knots had knots in them.

  “I admire your dedication, but seriously, Bren, you have employees for a reason. You don’t have to do it all.”

  “You’re one to talk.”

  “I’m not the one rushing off to work this morning.”

  From her upside down position, she could see Jack sitting cross-legged on her bed, the sheet tented over his knees. She tugged the comb through one last tangle and stood up straight again, the blood-rush from her head making her wobble a bit as she did so. Jack crooked a finger at her and gave her a look that made her knees wobble for real. At that moment she wanted nothing more than to crawl back under the covers and lose herself in him again.

  What was she thinking? Less than twelve hours after becoming the majority owner of a winery—not to mention the fact she was the vintner as well—and she was already considering shirking her responsibilities because Jack had a magnetism that was near impossible to resist. And what would happen when Jack went back to the city? She’d be left with nothing but a batch of ruined wine.