He cupped her buttock, and he trailed a finger along the tender skin of her inner thigh. His finger trailed upward, along her cleft. He skimmed her clit, the light touch electrifying. She drew a sharp breath, prayed he’d repeat the move.
He didn’t. Instead, his finger worked upward to play with her pucker. Frissons of excitement dive-bombed her body. He was toying with her, testing her or maybe he was waiting for her to scream rape or something equally odious, because she was—after all—a Drummond.
As if.
She’d never treat a man that way and especially not Dallas.
Dallas was different. He called her, tempted her to dally on the wild side.
His finger moved back and forth over sensitive nerves. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” She didn’t even have to think about her reply.
Crack!
The sharp smack on her bottom made her jolt. Before she could catalogue the sensations, decide if it hurt, another sharp smack hit her butt. It was angled differently, and this time it did bloody smart.
“Ow.” She sent a reproving look over her shoulder and attempted to wriggle free. “That hurt.”
“It was meant to.”
He expected her to quit, to balk and call foul. She heard it in his tone. But she’d never been a quitter and wasn’t about to start now. She could handle a little pain.
Laura glanced at him, saw his raised eyebrows and didn’t say a word. Instead, she turned her stare to the Oriental floor rug, the rich jewel colors in the borders, and mentally braced herself for whatever he decided to do next.
Crack.
Her bottom stung, heat prickling across her skin. Dallas smacked her three more times in quick succession, each blow from a different angle, heating a different part of her bottom. She bit her lip, uncertain. It hurt, damn it. He began again, repeating the pattern of blows, swift and precisely.
They still hurt, but the pain shifted, shimmered with erotic promise. The blows ricocheted downward until she trembled, her buttocks hot, tender.
Tears blurred the jewel colors of the rug. Her lip ached where she’d bit down hard to stem her protests.
He smacked her once more, then whispered, “Good girl.”
The words of praise sent a shudder through her, as did the tender caress of his hand, the way he cupped her hot flesh. The hard muscles of his thighs shifted, and she stiffened, expecting another blow. It didn’t come. Instead he whisked up her sweatpants and shifted her in his arms until he cradled her protectively. She buried her face in his shoulder, breathed in his scent and tried to settle her zigzag thoughts. He’d spanked her like a naughty child—shades of her family—and she didn’t know what to think.
No, that wasn’t quite right. She knew what she should think, yet she was having trouble working up the proper head of steam to blast him with temper. His hand stroked down her back in a soothing, comforting manner, and that confused her too. She’d never felt so emotionally close to another person, and turmoil tangled her mind.
“Did that hurt your hand?”
A rumble went through his chest, and she realized he was amused. “A little.”
She nodded. That seemed fair. He should suffer in return.
Dallas waited for her to tell him he was a brute. But the Drummond princess surprised him. Heck, the princess label didn’t apply in her case, because she hadn’t treated him like cow muck on the bottom of her shoes. Instead, she cuddled trustingly against him, accepting his caresses.
A log popped on the fire, sending out a shower of sparks. The hour wasn’t late, but they might as well go to bed. Laura would need lotion on her bottom while his early morning start was catching him.
“Hold on,” he whispered against her hair.
She let out a tiny yelp when he stood, clutching his shoulders in alarm. Her grip relaxed as he progressed down the passage to his bedroom.
“Do you need to use the bathroom?”
“Yes, please.”
He smiled at her prim manner. Laura was a bundle of contradictions, and he’d already tossed his assumptions. She was anything but predictable. He set her on her feet. “I think there’s a new toothbrush in the cabinet.”
“Thank you.”
Smiling, he wandered back to the lounge to check the fire. He switched off the lights and strode back to his room. The pipes clanked, indicating Laura was still in the bathroom. He switched on one bedside lamp and hunted out some lotion. Earlier, he’d turned on the heating and the room was cozy.
“Am I sleeping in here tonight?”
“I’d like that very much.”
In the doorway, she shifted her weight from foot to foot, hesitating, as if she fought an inner war. His breath caught, the urge to go to her strong. Instead, he forced himself to fold back the covers and strip. The decision needed to come from her. He couldn’t—wouldn’t make her get into his bed.
Aye, it was a delicate tightrope he crossed at present. Sex with a Drummond. Spectacular sex to be sure, but was it worth the shit that would heap down on their heads at a later date? There was always a reckoning. Always.
When he turned, she was standing by the bed. He caught the faint wince when she started to disrobe.
“Let me,” he said and made short work of removing her clothes. “Lie face down on the mattress.”
Her muscles went tight and her limbs locked.
“I’m not going to spank you again. Not tonight. That would be brutal and not terribly responsible from your lover.”
She shot him a quick glance, and what she saw must have reassured her because she crawled onto the bed and made herself comfortable.
Dallas took a second to admire the curvy lines of her body. The nip of her waist and the flare of her hips. Her pinked buttocks. The gel he squeezed onto his palm was chilly and would counteract the heat. It was also good for taking care of bruises.
The air sucked through her teeth at his first touch, her buttocks clenching. The cool wash of gel claimed her attention next and she sighed, the tension leaching from her muscles.
Taking his time, he rubbed the gel into her soft skin, enjoying the quiet moment and her occasional sighs. His own blood ran hot but he tamped down his desires. Tomorrow would be soon enough. Tonight was for her.
“How does that feel? Better?”
“Yes, thanks.”
He had to strain to hear her whisper. “Can you turn over?”
She didn’t reply, merely shifting her body to lie on her back.
“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.”
Once again, she hesitated while he waited. She reminded him of the stray dog he’d rescued as a kid—brave and terrified at the same time. He and that dog had shared wonderful times together, and he missed old Gray something fierce. If he hadn’t worked such long hours, he might have adopted a puppy.
“Relax and close your eyes. I’m not going to hurt you. You’ll enjoy this.”
Even in the dim light, it was easy to see her mind ran clockwork-style, dissecting his words and body language. After a long pause, her eyes closed in surrender.
Trust. He savored the emotion, knowing he was blessed to receive such utter confidence from her. With satisfaction flooding him, he moved between her legs. “I’m going to touch you,” he warned. “Lie there and enjoy.”
He used his fingers to acclimate her to his touch before settling down to tease her with his mouth. As he’d expected, the spanking had turned her on a little, even though she might dispute the fact. He licked her again. She tasted tart on his tongue, reminding him of summer fruit. Delicious. He licked the length of her cleft before focusing on her clit. He ran his tongue around the nub, caressing until it swelled and throbbed beneath his touch. A sob came from Laura, and she lifted her hips, seeking more contact.
“Keep still,” he whispered. “Don’t strain for it. Let your orgasm slide o
ver you.”
She hesitated then her butt settled on the mattress. He waited a beat before continuing. Without haste, he gave her the friction she needed. A tremor went through her, letting him know she was close, and he closed his lips over her pulsing nub. He sucked lightly, and she flew apart, limbs jerking. Her moan of enjoyment sounded like a favorite, sweet song. He lapped, gently now, knowing she’d feel more sensitive. She sighed, stroked his face when he moved up the bed.
“Would you like me to—?”
“Maybe in the morning,” he said, even though his cock was a steely length against his thigh. He curled her against him, breathed in the scent of his shower gel, the musk of sex and relaxed, feeling happier than he had in a long time.
Tomorrow might bring challenges, but right now he didn’t care.
Chapter Five
The raucous ring-ring-ring of the phone woke Dallas. Warm woman. Naked. Confusion chased rambunctious puppy-style, scampering around his sluggish brain for long seconds. What the hell? His lips twitched. Oh, yeah. He recalled the identity of the woman curled so trustingly in his arms.
Laura Drummond.
Ring-ring-ring.
Dallas slipped from the warm bed to answer the stroppy summons from the land line in the kitchen. “Yeah.”
“I’ve had Mrs. Drummond on the phone demanding to know her daughter’s location.” Mason’s pissed tone slapped away Dallas’s feel-good mood. “The woman has rung her daughter’s apartment and keeps getting the answer machine.”
“Is it still raining?”
“A little. The worst of the storm seems to have gone. Pass is still closed. They say it’s gonna take a couple of days to clear,” Mason said, answering Dallas’s next question.
“I’ll get Laura to ring her family. They don’t know she’s here?”
“I’m not about to step in the middle of a Drummond-O’Grady spat,” Mason said. “I assured Mrs. Drummond her daughter was safe and told her to wait and ring her daughter at a decent hour before calling out the police force.”
Dallas grimaced, imagining from Mason’s aggrieved tone how that’d gone down with the Drummond matriarch. “I’ll tell Laura to ring her family.”
“See you do, Dallas. I’m off-duty today and don’t want to leave the house if I can help it. Call me back once Laura has spoken to her family.”
“Will do.” Dallas hung up and strode back to the bedroom.
“Is everything okay?” Laura sounded sleepy. “Ow, you’re cold.”
“That was Mason,” Dallas said. “You need to ring your mother before she orders the cops out on a search and rescue mission.”
“What’s the time?”
“Ten past six.”
Laura grimaced, more alert now, and sympathy frog-marched through Dallas. Family. You had to love them—the good, the bad, the freakin’ nosy.
“Seven is early enough to ring my mother on a weekend morning.”
Hello Miss Prim and Proper. “What are you gonna tell her?”
“That I spent the night with a friend.” She slanted him a look and there went sympathy again, nodding its head in a knowing manner.
Hard not to appreciate this particular Drummond.
“I could lie, say I didn’t hear the phone, but I need to ring a bell for independence. She’s got to stop trying to run my life, stop her bloody interfering.”
“Fair enough. Are you tired?”
“I’m awake now.”
“So am I.” And so was his dick. Awake and ready for action.
He dropped onto the bed, gathered her lush weight into his arms and kissed her, starting off slow and deepening the contact. She sighed into his mouth, tightened her arms around his neck and pressed her naked breasts to his chest in surrender.
Long moments later, he lifted his head, caressed her kiss swollen lips. “I want you.”
“You have me,” she whispered against his neck, the puff of warm air rolling a shiver over his skin. Her hands smoothed down his back, along his hip. A few touches, a few kisses was all it took. His cock tightened. His balls lifted.
“Are you wet enough to take me? Fast and hard?”
“You want me that way?” A note of teasing crept into her voice, and he found he liked it, liked the challenge. Hell, he plain liked Laura, even though she had one foot in the enemy camp.
“I like you slippery and hot and tight around my cock. I can feel your heat even through the condom.”
“I’m good,” she said, this time with a touch of the prim.
He laughed and kissed her again, taking a few seconds to lay a trail of kisses down her neck and latch on to her nipple. He sucked strongly, battling the siren urge to roll her over and thrust strongly between her legs. But his father’s lectures were too engrained. After kissing her for a little longer, he rolled away to grab a condom.
She smiled, a shy smile that grabbed him by the nuts. “I want you inside me. I’m ready for you. Hard and fast, okay?”
A return smile twitched his lips as he stared into her whiskey brown eyes. Damn it. Why did it have to be Laura Drummond who turned him inside out? He forced his thoughts aside to concentrate on her. He pushed inside, groaned. “God, you feel amazing.”
She sighed against his lips, clutching him to her. Although he’d wanted to pound into her, the loving slowed and he worked on loading memories. The sensation of his strokes into her tight cunt. The feel of her lips moving against his and the coursing of his blood through his veins. This thing—whatever it was between them—was magical and in the future, he wanted to recall every second.
He shifted position, caught her gasp against his lips as the base of his cock struck her right. During the repeat stroke, she moaned, and the instant he felt ripples, he thrust faster, racing to catch her while she surfed waves of pleasure. He plunged into her, threw himself after her and groaned at the wash of ecstasy that dazzled him with bright lights behind his eyelids. So good. So bloody good.
The pulses went on for a long time then he rested against her, only moving when he realized he’d become an uncomfortable weight, pressing her into the mattress. He withdrew, tossed the condom and returned to her side, her warm lushness attracting him like shelter in torrential rain.
“Thank you,” he whispered, kissing her. His pulse rate did a bump and grind at her response, spirit willing but flesh still weak.
They cuddled in contentment, the minutes ticking away.
“I guess I’d better make that phone call.”
“Why don’t you take a shower first? I’ll make breakfast and use the bathroom while you speak to your family.” He didn’t want to listen. She was right though. She was an adult, although he understood why they might worry about her given the severe storm. “Take some of this gel to rub on your butt after your shower.”
She shot him a hot frown and accepted the tube.
The coffee was ready when she joined him in the kitchen. He shunted a mug in her direction, indicated the phone and left her to it while he hit the shower.
Laura tested her coffee for heat, blowing across the surface before taking a cautious sip. It burned her mouth, but that was the least of her problems. If she didn’t handle this conversation, both she and Dallas would sink into a heap of trouble. She tried another sip, and this time it slipped down easily. In the distance, she heard the shower start—a sort of a ticking clock springing to life inside her mind.
Time to get this done.
Her palms were sweaty when she picked up the phone, and she wiped them on her sweats. A tremor shook her hand, but she managed to dial her parents’ number. It rang for three rings before someone picked up the other end.
“Drummond residence.”
“Bridget, it’s Laura. I understand Mother is worried about me.”
“Miss Laura, your mother is at breakfast with her guests,” Bridget said.
&n
bsp; Not as worried as she made out to the local cop. Another slice of guilt to manipulate Laura. Normally, she’d shrug and brush aside her mother’s behavior. Not this time. Anger flared in her, finding an outlet in a white-knuckle grip around the phone.
“Would you mind giving her a message for me? Tell her I’m at home and will drive back to Clare for the wedding. I’ll wait on the phone while you tell her in case she wishes to speak with me.”
“She’ll want to speak with you,” Bridget said, her Irish accent evident.
Laura finished her coffee and poured another one. The shower shut off.
“Why didn’t you answer your phone?” The crisp voice of her mother was a bucket of icy water dropped on her head. “I dislike talking to that infernal machine. Why isn’t your cell phone switched on?”
“I forgot to charge my cell. The battery is dead. Mother, there was no need to contact the local police and bother them. They have more important things to do.” Laura pulled a face at the disapproving silence and continued. “The rain wasn’t bad in Napier. I ran out of milk last night and decided to go out to get some. I ran into some friends and we had drinks.” Aware she was giving too much information, she stopped and waited for her mother’s next salvo.
“You were expected here.”
“Janice has six bridesmaids,” Laura said crisply. “I doubt my absence has even registered on her radar.”
“James was expecting you.”
Ah, now they reached the heart of her mother’s objections.
“I’m not interested in James.”
A sharp inhalation filtered down the line. “James is an eligible bachelor.”
Her mother’s determination rang in her voice, her words, and Laura scowled. “I’m not interested in James. I’ll speak with him, act with politeness, but I won’t marry him. Next time I see him, I’ll make my feelings on the subject clear. I refuse to marry a man to give him respectability. Quite frankly, if he’s willing to go along with marriage talk, he’s lying to himself. It’s a recipe for disaster, and I want no part of it.”
Enemy Lovers Page 5
