A Dangerously Sexy Secret

by Stefanie London

When he looked back at old photos of his dad, he could see why. Despite the difference in the depth of their skin color, he had his father’s full lips and strong jaw. He had the same intense eyes and heavy brows. The same strong cheekbones and slightly too-big ears. Ears made for listening, his mother had called them once.

  It dawned on him then that this was why Wren’s painting had made such an impact on him. It wasn’t just that she’d been thinking about him, it was that she’d been looking at him. Acknowledging him.

  In her head he was real and present and alive.

  “I ended up moving to the city so I didn’t have to keep haunting her like that,” he said, shutting out his revelation.

  “You moved because you were haunting someone and I moved because I was being haunted. Can’t win, can we?” she asked with a shake of her head.

  “The reason you’re haunted, does it have something to do with the painting I saw?” He cleared his throat. “The one of the naked woman.”

  “My problem was about the paintings,” she said with an emphasis on the s. “I have a series of them. And, yeah, that’s part of the reason I left. My town wasn’t quite ready for something so ‘shocking’ as the naked body.”

  “I guess some of those towns can be quite conservative.”

  “Oh, I knew that. It’s the whole reason I never showed the paintings to anyone except a few people I trusted in the art community. But my ex found them and...he got pretty mad.”

  “Why the hell would he be mad about a couple of paintings?”

  “He thought I was going to cause a scandal.” She laughed, but the sound was hollow. Humorless. “He had grand plans to be a district attorney one day and eventually make a move into politics. He told me he couldn’t be with someone who was going to ruin his career with sinful, disgusting activities.”

  Rhys’s chest clenched. The pain in her voice was palpable. “Your ex is an idiot.”

  “It wouldn’t have been so bad if he’d just dumped me and moved on. But oh no, Christian thought he’d been wronged, and he wanted to take me down a couple of pegs. Teach me a lesson.” Her jaw tightened. “He took photos of the paintings and showed them to people in town to make sure there was no chance any of my ‘filthy secrets’ could come back to bite him. I could never be the kind of woman he wanted by his side, but he also didn’t want anyone else to have me...so he made sure I was ‘damaged goods’ as far as the town was concerned.”

  Rhys blinked. “Are you serious?”

  “I wish I wasn’t. But that tells you a lot about our relationship,” she snorted.

  “And people really thought a few nude paintings were that bad?”

  “I didn’t really have the chance to tell my side of the story. Christian went to a few loud voices in the community and the rumors were all over town before I had the chance to do anything about it. He said he felt it was his ‘duty’ to make sure I wasn’t working with any children while I was creating pornographic material.”

  “I don’t even know what to say.” Rhys shook his head, trying to quash the anger that had bubbled up in him. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Anyway, enough of my sob story.” A smile tugged at her lips. “It’s all in the past, and I’m here now.”

  But for how long? The question hung at the edge of his mind.

  Why can’t you stop planning the future for once and live in the now? Live in the now with her.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” he said.

  Her dazzling smile kindled warmth in his chest. “And I’m glad you didn’t let me bleed out in the hallway.”

  “My first-aid skills are good, but I’ve got other skills that are better than that.”

  “You’re a fabulous cook, too.”

  Hunger gnawed at him. “That’s not what I meant.”

  Her pupils dilated, the black centers eating away at the rim of blue around them. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, causing her breasts to press against the thin tank top and reveal the faint shadow of her nipples. Her hand fluttered at her collarbone, toying with a thin necklace.

  She intoxicated him. The very sight of her was so addictive that he was already desperate for a taste, as though he knew just how delicious she would be.

  “I’ll do the dishes,” she said, standing and reaching for his plate. As she leaned over he could see that her blush extended down her neck and across her chest, coloring her skin with a rosy hue. “It’s only fair since you cooked.”

  She stacked the plates in her arms and headed off in the direction of his kitchen. Draining the rest of the wine in his glass, he gave her a moment. Wren was skittish and now he understood the reason for that. She’d been hurt—run out of her hometown by a vindictive, selfish bastard.

  But he also knew when a woman was attracted to him—and Wren’s face hid nothing.

  Collecting the glasses and the half-empty bottle of wine, he followed her. In the small space, he could feel the heat radiating around them. Neither had said a word, but the air held a sizzling tension. Anticipation raced through his veins.

  “Please, stop helping,” she said as she collected the dirty saucepan and wooden spoon from the stove. “Let me do it.”

  She brushed past him, her bare arm sweeping against his. The subtle touch sent shock waves through him, flipping the on switch to his entire nervous system. It caught the on switch to his cock as well, which stood to full attention, straining against the fly of his jeans.

  Holy hell. He couldn’t seem to control himself around her. Turning as though he were about to rinse the wineglasses in the sink, he adjusted himself.

  “It’s no trouble.” He flipped the taps on, but the water gushed out far stronger than he’d expected and it sprayed him all down his front.

  “Oh no!” She clamped a hand over her mouth. “The taps here have a mind of their own. I swear they’re haunted by evil water ghosts.”

  She reached for the dish towel and wadded it up in her hand, pressing it straight to the wet patch on his stomach, dabbing up and down.

  If he’d thought he was hard before, he was like marble now.

  Her hand drifted over him, hovering at his waist as her eyes caught on the totally noticeable bulge in his jeans. Cheeks flaming, she sucked on her bottom lip and drew her hand back as if burned. Shit, she probably thought he was some sex-crazed freak.

  “Wren, I’m sor—”

  “You’ll need to lose it.” Her eyes came up to meet his like two smoldering sapphires.

  “Huh?”

  “The T-shirt.” She flicked her hand in his direction. “A dish towel won’t fix that. It has to come off.”

  He hesitated for a moment but the lust in her eyes urged him on. Curling his fingers under the hem of the now-soaked cotton shirt, he peeled it up and over his head. Cool air swept over his skin, tightening his nipples and making him hyperaware of every inch of his body.

  “The jeans, too,” she said, keeping her face straight. “They’re soaked.”

  He glanced down and saw a small dark patch where the denim had absorbed the water. They were hardly soaked. “You sure about that?”

  “Let me help you.” She stepped forward and reached for the buckle on his belt.

  Her fingertips grazed his bare skin and he had to stifle a moan. He might have started the fire, but she was fanning the flames.

  6

  WASN’T SHE SUPPOSED to be keeping her distance? At the very least she should be drawing boundaries, given he was the guy who could get her in a world of trouble right now.

  Then why did you come here? You knew where this would go. He won’t leave your head until you do something about it.

  Her fingers trembled as they wrapped around the sturdy leather of his belt, grazing the hard ridge pressing against his fly. His hips jerked as she released the buckle.

&nbs
p; “Christ, Wren.” He uttered her name so low she almost didn’t hear it. But he only took a second before he grabbed her hips and pinned her against the kitchen counter. “I thought I was going to be the one to make a move.”

  “So move,” she said, taunting him softly.

  A gasp escaped her lips as he nudged his leg between hers, his thigh applying just the right amount of pressure to the needy ache there.

  “Yes.” The word slipped from her lips and Wren felt her last remaining ounce of restraint disappear into the ether.

  What did Debbie say—you’ve got to use it before you lose it?

  Maybe it was stupid to get entangled with Rhys. No, it was definitely stupid. And not only that, it was irresponsible and selfish. She was keeping secrets from this man who’d been nothing but kind to her. Even after she’d spilled out all the pain of what had happened to her back home.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  But right now her brain wasn’t the one in the driver’s seat. So there would be no obeying the speed limit, no following the rules. Her body had taken over, and it wanted to make up for lost time.

  “How do you feel about dessert?” she asked.

  Hard granite dug into her lower back as his hips held her fast. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Let’s skip whatever you had planned and go straight to bed.”

  “Health conscious. I like it.” His hot breath whispered across her skin as his full lips grazed her cheek.

  “Yes, exactly what I was going for.” She rolled her eyes, her laugh breaking off into a moan as he nipped at her earlobe. “Do you have to be such an adult about everything?”

  “I’m thinking some very adult things right now.”

  Her hands drifted up his chest, tracing each ridge of muscle one by one. “Oh yeah?”

  “Super adult. It would make my spreadsheet look like child’s play.”

  Laughter bubbled up in Wren’s chest as she placed a finger over his lips. “Okay, enough dirty talk.”

  Mercifully, he brushed her hand aside and finally captured her mouth. The soft glide of his tongue against hers left her weak at the knees. He tasted of wine and heaven. Boy, oh boy, could he kiss.

  This was A-grade, five-gold-stars, Nobel Prize levels of kissing.

  His hands were at her waist, then her rib cage, then her breasts. Kneading. Squeezing. Flicking.

  “Oh!” Her head jerked back as he pinched her nipple through the thin layer of her tank. It felt as though a volt of electricity had shot straight through her.

  “Is that a good ‘oh’?” He chuckled against the side of her neck as he nipped at the sensitive skin there. Each bite was soothed with a swipe of his tongue in a maddening pattern. Nip. Swipe. Nip. Swipe.

  “That’s a ‘don’t stop if you know what’s good for you’ oh,” she said, lolling her head back as his fingers hooked under the strap of her tank and pulled it down, exposing her breast to his hands.

  His palm circled her, only stopping to allow his thumb to take over. And then his mouth... Oh, dear God. His mouth. He drew her nipple between his teeth, holding it gently there while he flicked his tongue against her, drawing out every soul-deep pleasure sound she could possible make.

  Shamelessly, she rubbed against him. It had been so long since she’d felt this good, strung tighter than a wire and ready to snap. His other hand fisted in her skirt, trying to get at her through all the layers of fabric.

  “Dammit,” he growled against her breast. “This skirt is ridiculous.”

  “It’s not ridiculous.”

  “It is.” He stood back and watched, his dark eyes almost totally black as they drank her in. “No, it’s criminal. Hiding those legs away should be illegal.”

  Laughing, she made a show of swinging her hips like an exotic dancer. “Well, I do not want to get arrested.”

  “Ditch the skirt.”

  A sharp sound pierced the air as she drew the zipper down, and in an instant the fabric puddled at her feet. The heel of his palm found her center, grinding a series of slow, intense circles against her sex. Her clit ached, desperate for friction and release.

  “Yes,” she gasped, running her hands around the back of his head as he suckled her breast. His hair was so short there was nothing for her to grab on to, but that didn’t stop her from trying.

  His mouth came back up to hers as his hand shifted, a finger breaching the edge of her panties to softly stroke the seam of her sex. He’d be able to feel just how wet she was, how insanely aroused and excited. But she didn’t care—couldn’t care. Not while he was pushing her so close to an orgasm she knew would shatter her completely.

  “Rhys...uh!” The words dissolved on her tongue as he kissed her, the tip of his finger pressing against her entrance.

  “Are you ready?” His words were rough, sharp. Like gravel. “Are you ready to feel my fingers inside you?”

  “Please, please.” She couldn’t string any more words together, so she looped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his ear. “Yes.”

  The second he slid a finger inside her she thought she’d break. Her internal muscles clenched around him immediately, trying to draw him all the way in. But he held on to his control, sliding in and out slowly. Easing her into it. Stretching her.

  She ground her hips against his hand and moaned, cursing under her breath. Then he shifted, curling his finger at just the right angle, rubbing the little bundle of nerves deep inside her and that was it. Game over.

  “Oh. My. God.” Her body shook and she tumbled, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over her. Filling her. Drowning her.

  He held her there until it subsided. Until her heart slowed and her breath came in longer beats. Until she was able to stand on her own. Only then did he withdraw his hand and kiss her trembling lips.

  “See. So much better than spreadsheets,” she said with a shaky laugh.

  “Couldn’t agree more.” A chuckle rumbled deep in his chest and he bundled her up in his arms, the hard length of his arousal pressing into her belly.

  Almost immediately her hunger returned. At full force.

  Her fingertips grazed him, feeling the strength of him through the cotton of his boxer briefs. She wasn’t done yet, not by a long shot. Finding the slit in his underwear, she snaked her hand in and wrapped her fingers around him. He was hot against her palm, thick and heavy. Very thick.

  She swallowed. She hadn’t been with many men during her somewhat lackluster sex life. And none of them had felt like Rhys. The sheer virility of him thrilled her. Smoothing her hand up and down, she squeezed tentatively and was rewarded with a low, ragged groan.

  Then she remembered. Condoms.

  They hadn’t exactly been high up on her shopping list when she’d fled to New York, so she hoped he would be better prepared. She didn’t want to stop now; she didn’t know if she had the strength to walk away without experiencing that long, hard length inside her.

  “Shall we move this party to the bedroom?” he said as his lips brushed the shell of her ear.

  “I’m hoping you’re prepared.”

  “If you’re talking about protection, of course. I didn’t want to be presumptuous but...” He grinned.

  “You are a Boy Scout. I knew it.”

  He grabbed her hand and led her toward his bedroom. “Come on. If I don’t have you now I’m going to burst.”

  “Is that a fact?”

  She couldn’t deny how good his attraction made her feel. It smoothed over her, filling in the cracks and dents and chips in her confidence. It restored her. Made her believe that she was a sexy, young woman who could start over. Start fresh.

  “One hundred percent.” He drew her to him by the waist, his large hands skating around to her lower back and pressing her against him.

 
“Not a hundred and ten?” she teased.

  “There is no more than a hundred percent.”

  Her calves hit the edge of his bed as he backed her up. Drawing his eyes away only for a moment, he yanked open the top drawer of his bedside table and rummaged around until he produced a foil packet. Then he tossed it onto the bed and returned to her.

  “Now we’re prepared,” she said, her palms running up and down her thighs. Unsure where to start.

  “More.” The word came out so strangled, so forced that it fueled her on.

  She slipped her hands between her legs to brush against her drenched panties. “Like this?”

  “Hell. Yes.”

  She whipped the tank over her head and turned, tipping forward from her waist so that her hands landed on the bed and her ass waved high in the air. A guttural groan came from behind her, and a moment later he was pressed against her. Rough hands held her in place as he rubbed the hard length of his cock against her ass.

  “Holy shit, Wren. You’re incredible.” His fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties and pulled them over her ass and down her legs. “Stay there and let me look.”

  Her whole body clenched as cool air drifted across her sex. She’d never done anything like this before. Sex with her previous boyfriends had been bland as cardboard. But she hadn’t known anything else. This, however, seemed natural. Clearly, she’d been missing out.

  Then she felt his cock press against her inner thigh, smudging moisture against her. A second later the sound of foil tearing broke through their heavy breathing, and Wren turned to face him, watching him roll the condom down his length.

  “We’ll go slow, okay?” His palm cupped her face and she kissed his hand.

  “Yes, please.” She reached out to touch him, her fingers skating over the swollen head of his cock.

  He eased her back against the bed and used his strong thighs to part her softer ones. The contrast of his warm, brown skin against her fairness sucked the breath out of her lungs. He was so beautiful. So confident and capable and strong.

  Yet there was a gentleness to him, a level of care that she wasn’t used to.