Take My Hand: BWWM Romance

by Shanade White

  She looked up at him, then slapped him on the arm. “You’re terrible, but I’m glad you came into my life,” she said, then pulled out of his arms. “I have something special for you.”

  Nervous at the daring thing she was about to do, she slipped on the antique white bustier and garter that one of her designers had made especially for her. The silk stockings felt delicious against her legs as she fastened the clips. Sliding her feet into a pair slippers with three-inch heels, she looked in the mirror suddenly feeling the power of her own sexuality. She took her hair down, then quickly put it back up again.

  When she stepped into the doorway, Scott was sitting on the couch watching the fire. Sensing her presence, he turned to her, then gasped and sat forward on the couch. His mouth hanging open, he watched mesmerized as she crossed the room to where he was sitting and stood right in front of him. Scott’s breath was coming in little gasps, and when she threaded her fingers through his hair, he groaned and pressed his face between her breasts, his hands on her butt, pressing her closer.

  Marissa’s nipples were stiff under the silk of her bustier, straining against the fabric, making her ache with longing. Scott moved his head to one side and licked one nipple then switched to the other, leaving wet spots where his tongue had been. Marissa arched her back, her fingers digging into his shoulders as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.

  Scott pulled his head back and took the ribbon that held the strained fabric over her swollen breasts and pulled, the bow come undone slowly, making Marissa’s legs shake with anticipation. Once loosened, it took only a small tug and the ribbon fluttered to the floor forgotten when Marissa’s breasts came free. Scott’s mouth clamped down on one of her nipples, the other hand on the other breast, and his arm came around her hips to press her closer to him.

  She was lost in a storm of sensation, the power of the passion between them heating the very air in the room as Scott took Marissa higher and higher. Not wanting to lose control of the situation, Marissa reluctantly pushed Scott back against the back of the couch, then pushed his legs together and climbed on top of him, making him gasp when her hot moisture slid along his swollen length.

  Marissa laughed seductively, silently thanking the woman who had designed her outfit for the tasteful split in her panties. Scott had expected a thin piece of cloth to be separating them and when he felt only Marissa’s slick heat, he nearly lost it, only holding on by sheer force of will. Marissa suddenly understood the power she held over him and wiggled a little on his lap, making him gasp and grab her hips.

  Reaching up, she pulled the pins from her hair, letting it spill in wild curls over her shoulders. She reached up and ran her hands through her hair, shaking her head several times, making Scott grind his teeth even harder as she slid over his pulsing penis with each move she made. He had his head back, using every last bit of his strength not to lose it right then, the groans coming from the back of his throat only encouraging Marissa.

  He tried to push her back, to regain some of the control, but she pushed him back against the couch and threaded her fingers though his hair, then brought her mouth down on his. Sliding her hips back and forth across his throbbing cock, making him wet with her moisture, she reached between them and gripped him firmly in her hand, then lowered her hips until he was buried deeply inside her.

  “Oh, God, Marissa, I don’t think I can take this for long, it feels too good,” he ground between clenched teeth as she raised her hips and buried him inside her again.

  “You’re not supposed to,” she whispered in his ear, increasing her rhythm, then grinding her hips into his. “I want to shatter your world like you do mine.”

  No longer content to let her be in control, he grabbed her hips and thrust himself into her over and over again until the pressure became too much and he felt his control evaporate. With one final thrust, he tumbled over the edge, his orgasm leaving him fighting for air as Marissa’s orgasm took her over the edge in a free fall of raw pleasure. Panting, Scott pulled her to him, suddenly aware of the silk of her stockings and the cold leather of the slippers she still wore.

  Almost instantly, he began to stiffen inside her, the mere thought of how sexy she was spiking his need for her again. Draped over Scott, she felt him move inside her and sat up to look at him. “Do you see what you do to me? I’m not sure that outfit is legal,” he said, getting to his feet with Marissa’s legs still wrapped around him.

  Giggling like a little girl, she hung on to Scott, loving the fact that he could carry her. It awakened a primal feeling in her that she didn’t know existed. When Scott finally set her on her feet, she swayed a bit and grabbed a hold of his shoulders. He knelt in front of her, took off her shoes, then rolled the silk stockings down her legs and slid them off, his hands burning a path down her leg.

  He stood and stripped the last of the lace off her body, then turned her around and pushed her onto the bed. Marissa climbed onto the bed on her hands and knees, not sure what to expect, but then she felt Scott’s erection pressing between her legs and arched her hips, letting him slide into her. The abrupt feeling of Scott filling her so deeply made her gasp with pleasure.

  Scott was kneeling between her legs, his hand gripping her hips as he drove himself into her over and over again, Marissa crying out with pleasure each time his throbbing length stretched her. She was beyond thought, her body spiraling up and up, the pressure deep inside spreading though her in waves that built with each deep thrust of Scott’s hips.

  Scott’s hands left her hips to cup her breasts, squeezing and massaging her swollen globes, then one hand sank down between her legs. With his hard chest pressed up against her back and his hand between her legs, Marissa felt the pressure deep inside her burst. A flood of pleasure so intense she couldn’t help but cry out Scott’s name rushed through her, only growing more intense when he began to rub her in circles while he continued thrust into her over and over again.

  Finally, when she thought the sweet torment would never end, Scott gripped her hips and with one last thrust of his hips, emptied himself inside her, her name escaping his lips in a cry of ecstasy. They collapsed together on the bed, their bodies still shuttering with the passion they’d just shared.

  Chapter 9

  The flight back to Denver was nowhere near as scary as the one out had been. Scott had taken a few minutes to explain to her that he could fly the plane himself if need be, then took her on a safety inspection of the plane. With a little knowledge, she felt much better. She was even able to enjoy the view out the window without crushing Scott’s hand. On the flight from Denver to Los Angeles, she fell asleep with her head on his shoulder and woke only when he gently kissed her on the forehead.

  “We’re home,” he said, helping her get to her feet.

  “Scott?”

  “Hm?”

  “I really don’t want to go back to my dad’s house. I don’t ever want to go back there again if I don’t have to,” she said, trying the words out and feeling that for now they were true.

  “That’s a little harsh, but I don’t really want to go back there either. We could rent a room for the night then drive up to your house tomorrow morning,” he said, taking her hand as they walked through the airport.

  “It’s your house too now,” Marissa said, looking at him. “You know I really do love my house, but if you hate it, we could talk about moving someplace else.”

  “I bet I’ll love it. You seem to love it so much that I can’t imagine I won’t. Don’t worry, a house is just a house to me, I’ve never really cared on way or the other,” he said, holding the door for her.

  She thought about that for a few minutes. “It doesn’t bother you that your dad sold the house you grew up in?”

  “No, not really, it’s not like there were very many good memories there. If fact, I think it might have been the best idea,” he said, helping her into the car.

  “Hm, maybe we should convince my dad to sell his house and start over,” she said, sque
ezing Scott’s hand. Then she put it to her mouth and kissed the back, leaning in when he cupped her face with his hand and kissed her.

  The next day, after a frustrating trip out of Los Angeles, Marissa was finally able to look in the rearview mirror and say goodbye to the city for a few days. Scott was following her in his car, every available inch of space full of their things. They’d had to hire a moving company to transport the rest, but by the time they’d left the house in Los Angeles, nothing remained of Marissa’s presence.

  Before she left, she found her father in his study, wandered in and stood in front of his desk. “Well, Dad, you’ve gotten your way. I’m a married woman now, so I’ll be moving to my house in Golden Hills. I’m no longer your problem, Scott will have to handle me from now on,” she said, stepping back to where Scott was leaning against the doorjamb, unable to miss this conversation.

  When she stepped up to him, he stood up a little straighter, then wrapped his arms around her. “I’ll be more than happy to handle Marissa,” he said, pulling her into him until she was leaning heavily on him. “She’s more willing to be handled when you know how to do it.”

  Marissa giggled, then reached up and pulled Scott’s head down and kissed him. An obscene display that was designed to get her father riled up, he had his mouth open to lecture her on public displays of affection but closed it when Scott finished off the kiss with a loud smack and took her hand. He lifted it to his mouth and kissed the ring that sat there when suddenly lit by a shaft of sunlight coming through the window.

  They looked at each other and laughed, all thoughts of her father gone in the strange moment. Once out of the room, Scott said, “Shit,” and backed Marissa up against the wall not caring who might see them and kissed her breathless, his hand snaking up under the skirt she was wearing. When his finger found her hot and wet for him, he pulled her back up the stairs to her old room and locked the door. An hour later, they snuck back down the stairs and out the front door, leaving Marissa’s key on the table by the front door on their way out.

  Smiling at the memory of that morning, she almost missed the turn off for Golden Hills, swerving at the last minute onto the gravel road that led to her property. She’d named it Golden Hills last fall when she’d bought it because the little valley where her house was located had been covered in a blanket of gold and orange as fall proclaimed it glory. But now in the middle of the summer, her land looked parched and dry, the landscape a sad mix of brown and more brown.

  The monsoons would be here soon, but it still looked bleak as they climbed the mountain to her home. When they crested the hill that dropped into her little valley. it was as if someone had turned the picture from black and white to color. Thanks to a little stream that ran though the valley, it was lush and green in the wide clearing. Marissa rolled down her window and took a deep breath of the clean air, feeling the pressures of the city melt away.

  She pulled up in front of the farmhouse that was her new home, not seeing the peeling paint or badly patched roof, but what it would be when she was finished. She waited for Scott as he got out of the car, not able to tear his eyes away from the dilapidated house. Grinning from ear to ear, she watched him survey the mess in front of him, from the falling down outbuilding to the overgrown orchard behind the house.

  “Um, this wasn’t quite what I expected,” he said, looking around him again.

  “But isn’t it wonderful and it’s all mine as well as a huge chunk of land,” she said, grinning proudly. “I know the house is a little rough, but with some work it will be wonderful again.”

  “Did you have this thing looked at by an engineer?” he asked, a skeptical look on his face.

  “Yes, Scott. I’m not an idiot. It looks much worse than it is. What’s the matter, afraid there might be a ghost living there?” she teased, pulling him onto the porch which groaned under their weight.

  “No. I’m afraid the whole thing is going to come crashing down on top of us making us ghosts,” he said, ducking through the door.

  Once inside, she pulled him through a room the must have been the dining room into a very outdated kitchen and finally into a huge room that had been added at the back of the house. It had huge windows that looked out on what have once been a beautiful garden complete with a wishing well. He looked around the room seeing in his mind’s eye, a big comfortable couch in the center of the room.

  “It’s a wonderful room and look at the view. When the garden is repaired, this will be the best room in the house,” he said, joining her at the window.

  Taking his hand, she showed him the rest of the house, including the master bedroom. “We might want to get a bigger bed. I mean that is if you’re planning on...there are other bedrooms if you’d be more...” She trailed off, suddenly embarrassed.

  “Definitely a bigger bed,” he said, pulling her to him. “Definitely not a separate bedroom.”

  “Okay then, we’ll put that at the top of the list,” she said, leading him back down the stairs.

  “I think there’s a lot more that needs to go at the top of that list,” he said, wiggling the banister as they descended the stairs. “Starting with this. Are you sure this place is safe?”

  “I’m sure it’s safe and I have contractors coming out tomorrow to bid on the job. I’ve got it down to a choice of three,” she said, leading him back to the kitchen. “All the plumbing works in case you were wondering.”

  “Well, that’s good to know, but I’m not sure we need to hire a contractor. After all, you’re married to someone who used to be one,” he said, helping her unpack the groceries they’d brought with them.

  “That seems like a lot to ask you to do. I could pay you then, it would be fair,” she said, considering the offer.

  “Sweetheart, I hate to tell you this, but what’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine. Paying me would be kind of silly,” he said, taking a head of lettuce out of her hand when she froze in place.

  “We didn’t sigh a pre-nup,” she said, staring at him, suddenly realizing that it hadn’t even occurred to her that they should.

  “Yep, I had one, but I tore it up the night we had that big fight,” he said, shutting the refrigerator door and digging into another bag.

  “But, Scott, your worth billions. I’m not even close to being that rich. Next to you, my family looks poor. We could still sign one,” she said, putting her hand on his arm so he would look at her.

  “Nope, I told you I wanted this to be real. I have faith in us, Marissa. We’re going to make it, I can just feel it,” he said, taking an arm load of canned food over to the cabinet and putting it away.

  Marissa thought about his words, the warmth spreading through her, then crossed the room and pulled him to her. “Let’s go initiate our bedroom, make it ours,” she said, then led him out of the room by his hand with no protest from him.

  The next morning, they sat down at the rickety table after breakfast to make plans to get the house repaired in time for winter. The roof was in bad shape, clear evidence of several leaks could be seen all over the house. But for the first time in a long time, Scott was excited about something besides making money, a refreshing feeling that left him feeling energized.

  “So, what do you want the house to look like when we’re done?” Scott asked. “I’m assuming from the furniture you bought that you want to leave the house as close to original condition as possible.”

  “I was hoping to make it look as much like it did back in the 1930s. It was built in 1875, but I don’t want to go back that far,” she said, laughing. “Can you do that?”

  “Well, not on my own, but with the right crew it might be possible. You might have to make some allowances for modern conveniences like a washer and dryer,” he said, then got up. “Let’s go look at the house again. We need to put in a better bathroom too. I’m assuming that’s a modern convenience that you’d like to have as well.”

  She got up and followed him upstairs to the smallest of the six bedrooms. “This might wor
k,” he said, stepping in and pacing off the room. Then he went to the other end of the second story where the biggest bedroom was located, gesturing for her to follow him. “I also think we should take down this wall and make the master bedroom bigger and add a bathroom.”

  “I didn’t think about knocking down walls, but it would be nice to have a bigger bedroom with a connected bathroom. We’d still have three extra bedrooms for guests,” she said, walking around the room and stopping at the window, trying to picture it in her mind.

  “Or for our kids,” he said, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her.

  She looked up at him, the surprise at his words clear in her expression. “We never talked about kids. I mean...that’s...we’ve only...” She stumbled over her words, not sure how she felt about the idea.

  He laughed, his breath tickling her ear and raising goose bumps on her arms, “Relax, I wasn’t talking about right now, but someday I’d love to have kids.”

  Marissa relaxed back against him, “I think I’d like that too.”

  Over the next two weeks, Scott spent all his time working on the plans for the renovation. He even sucked up his pride once again and called Michael who was happy to give him some contact information for people in California who could help him with the renovations. It had been an uncomfortable conversation but one that needed to happen. He still hadn’t talked to Marc, but there was still time for that. Although Michael had been the focus of his misplaced anger, Marc had suffered just as much as Michael had.

  He’d hired both an engineer and an architect, but they both wanted the old blueprints for the house, which Scott had looked for but been unable to find. Finally, he asked Marissa, “Do you know where we might be able to get our hands on the blueprints for the house? Sometimes, they were filed with the city or county when a house was built, but I’ve searched all the county documents and it’s not there.”

  “Well, they might be at the old town courthouse,” she said absently, not really listening to Scott. She’d been trying to work from home, but without an office it was difficult. Plus, she had to be careful that Scott didn’t catch her working on charity business.