Wicked & Willing: Bad Girls

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Wicked & Willing: Bad Girls Page 15

by Leslie Kelly


  He almost dared her to dispute his final words. “But the rest of the night’s all mine.”

  She grabbed the dresser to steady herself on legs that felt as limp as jelly. Her pulse roared in her ears and she moaned, certain of one thing: Troy was going to take his time and deliver everything his self-confidence had promised he could from the moment she’d first set eyes on him. Like a cocky baseball player pointing to the grandstand as he took the plate, he was promising her one hell of a home run.

  “You’re in control all night?” she managed to ask through harshly indrawn breaths.

  He nodded, allowing for no argument. “All night.”

  His anticipatory expression told her he intended to use his time very wisely. He would not be rushed like their first time in the water. Nor would he be as slow, tender and sweet as he’d been the second time they’d made love on the chaise lounge.

  Slow, yes. But sweet, oh, no. His eyes didn’t promise sweetness. They promised wicked, sensual torture.

  She shivered in anticipation. A Troy frenzied with desire and desperate to have her she could handle. Because that’s how he made her feel. But a Troy deliberately seductive, painstakingly thorough and completely in control, would likely be the most intensely erotic experience of her life. She could either fight for a more equal footing by trying to seduce him until he was as mindless and needy as she. Or, she could give up, let him take over and do every delightful thing he could imagine to her.

  Hmm, life’s full of tough choices.

  This sure as hell wasn’t one of them.

  “All right, Troy.”

  He nodded, as if he’d never had any doubt about her response. “Come here,” he ordered, walking away toward the bed. He didn’t turn to see if she’d follow, knowing, of course, that she couldn’t resist. He undid his tie, pulling it off and throwing it to the floor, then he unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt.

  Venus slowly approached, nibbling on her lip, nearly unable to breathe because of the excitement roaring through her veins. “Here?” she asked when she reached the king-size bed.

  He nodded, then made a turning motion with his finger. She obeyed, turning around until her back was to him. His touch was deliberately light, barely brushing the sensitive spot on the back of her neck as he reached for the zipper of her dress and began tugging it down. The zipper opened slowly, the hiss of the separating teeth the only sound in the room.

  As every inch of skin was revealed, he followed the path with his mouth. He kissed her lightly, nibbling on her spine, inhaling deeply as if savoring the scent of her body. He tasted every bit of her, memorizing her with his lips and tongue.

  The zipper was a long one, ending well below her waist, almost between the curves of her rear. By the time he had it all the way down, Troy was kneeling on the floor behind her. Her breath caught in her throat as he continued to kiss her, and Venus forced herself to relax. To accept what he wanted to give her. To be patient enough to enjoy the delight of each step, rather than rushing to the climax, in spite of how much she ached to have him inside her.

  “Have I told you yet I’m glad you didn’t wear the underwear?” he asked as he moved his mouth lower, his warm breaths reaching the top curves of her bottom.

  She moaned, dying to see him, to watch him, but forcing herself to stay still. “I think I figured that out in the car.”

  “Ahh, the car. That’s one for you.” He gently nipped at her hip. “And one for me. Let’s check the score in the morning.”

  Score? He meant orgasms. Lots and lots of them.

  She began to shake.

  “Drop the dress,” he murmured, continuing to press hot kisses across the small of her back.

  With a lift of her shoulders, the fabric fell away, puddling at her feet. He lifted her foot, letting her step out of the dress, then tossing it aside. Circling her ankles, he slid his hands up her legs, touching them from foot to hip. “Mmm,” he whispered, as if delighting in the texture of her skin, the way one would enjoy the sensory feel of soft velvet or satin.

  She couldn’t see him. But she felt each touch, each scrape of his finger on her body. Every exhalation he made against her flesh was another caress. Every dip of his tongue made her arch back toward him in invitation.

  He continued to stroke her legs, moving down with such slow precision she ached, waiting to see where he’d touch her next. Finally, he gently eased her foot out of one shoe, then the other, taking time to caress even her toes. He seemed to take great delight in nibbling the back of her hip, and the curve of her bare backside. She hissed when he moved lower, kissing the vulnerable spot where her right cheek met the back of her thigh. Then he nudged one of her legs forward, pushing it up until her knee rested on the bed. A gentle push with his hand told her he wanted her to bend forward slightly, and she complied.

  Venus realized what he intended one second before she felt his tongue slide over her hot, wet flesh.

  “Oh, God,” she moaned, dropping her head back and closing her eyes. He was below her, tasting her, drawing all the nerve endings in her body together in one wet, throbbing spot that he suckled and tasted with perfect precision and obvious delight. And when she shuddered and cried out with her orgasm, she thought she heard him whisper against her inner thigh, “That’s two.”

  10

  TROY TOOK PITY ON HER over the course of the night and stopped counting out loud at five. But, as he gradually awoke the next morning, knowing by the angle of the sun slanting into his bedroom that he’d overslept again, he had to figure Venus had hit at least seven or eight on the orgasm meter. He chuckled.

  A most satisfying night.

  Not just for her. Definitely not. Troy didn’t think he’d ever had a more erotic experience in his life.

  He couldn’t get enough of her. He’d loved every kiss, every taste and worshipped every inch of her. The sound of her cries and moans had thrilled him as much as the look of heady delight on her face. Venus had been so trusting, so responsive, so open to everything, from gentle teasing to erotic massage. When he took her to the heights of pleasure, she’d playfully challenge him to take her higher—a challenge he couldn’t resist.

  Their entire night had been one enticing moment after another as they’d made love for hours. Troy had used all of his control to focus only on her. Touching her. Tasting her. Indulging in her while keeping himself in check. He’d managed to bring her to the point where she was sobbing in desperation before he finally took her. And that, too, had gone on forever because she’d so wisely helped him “blow off steam” in the car.

  Troy thought of himself as someone who knew his way around the bedroom. Lord knew, he’d had enough experience. But last night, in Venus’s arms, when he’d realized how much he loved looking into her eyes, realized that he’d never felt anything as perfect as the smoothness of her skin, he knew it was about more. There had been desire, yes. But also, he had to admit, emotion.

  “Crazy,” he told himself as he got out of bed, eyeing the pile of blankets on the floor where they’d kicked them.

  Crazy maybe. Still, it was true. He liked her more than he’d ever liked any woman. He wasn’t crazy enough to call it love, because, after all, he’d only known her for a few days. Besides, Troy had never truly believed he’d ever fall in love.

  So his feelings for Venus confused him. If not love…what?

  He’d wanted her from the moment they’d met. More importantly, he’d liked her wit, liked her sharp, sassy comments. He’d admired her self-confidence and her attitude. He’d enjoyed her company, been challenged by her, always wondering but never quite sure just what she was thinking or what she’d do next.

  Probably most telling of all, he absolutely dreaded the thought of her leaving on Sunday.

  Then again, if she turned out to be Max’s granddaughter, she could end up staying in Atlanta for a while. Though Max and Venus hadn’t talked any more about DNA tests or birth certificates, Troy found himself wanting them to hurry things along. �
�So she’ll stay,” he whispered.

  Damn. Maybe he really was falling in love with her.

  He didn’t spend a lot of time evaluating that thought. It was too early in the morning to wonder if his horndog days really were behind him and he would be able to settle down to one amazing, vibrant, sensual woman. “Venus.”

  Missing her, though she’d left his bed only a couple of hours before, he tugged on some shorts. He washed, then went to her room, noting the open door. Peeking inside and seeing her empty bed, he figured she’d already gone down to breakfast.

  Instead of showering and getting dressed for work, as he should have, Troy headed downstairs, too, still wearing only a pair of shorts. Something Max had said during the party last night, about how much Venus loved roller coasters, had stuck with him. Judging by the look in Max’s eye when he’d planted the idea in his head, he didn’t think the older man would mind him taking a day off. Venus would probably really enjoy a trip to a local theme park just outside Atlanta.

  That is, if she had the energy to walk today.

  His own step was light as he descended the stairs, a whistle on his lips. Hearing voices in the dining room, he turned toward it. Then, however, a flash of red caught his eye through the French doors leading to the family room.

  Only one thing on earth with that particular shade could make his heart speed up.

  He pushed the door open, preparing to greet a sexy, thoroughly satisfied Venus. Instead, he froze just inside the door. She was here all right, dressed scantily in a sexy bikini.

  And in the arms of another man.

  IN SPITE OF HER LONG, sleepless night Venus had awakened early, still too keyed up, physically and emotionally, to remain in bed. What an amazing night.

  Troy had not only delivered what he’d silently promised since the moment they’d met, he’d hands-down blown her out of the ballpark. Grand slam couldn’t begin to describe it. Wow.

  It was during their 2:00 a.m. bath in his sunken tub, when she’d been reclining between his legs—her back against his chest, her head on his shoulder—that she realized she was going to have to leave him soon. Just a few more days and she’d be out of Troy’s life, back to Baltimore, back to her own world.

  Whatever happened with Max, Venus truly couldn’t see herself staying here in his home. If she did turn out to be his grandchild, an idea that somehow didn’t seem so horrifying anymore, she hoped they could develop a good relationship in spite of the physical distance between them. She just couldn’t picture herself living here permanently. This was a fun vacation, playing Cinderella at the castle. But all vacations had to come to an end. She had to go back to her real world.

  Besides, she missed her friends and her apartment—surly cat, dying ferns and all. She missed Uncle Joe and Flanagan’s.

  But she was honest enough to admit one thing—she suspected none of that would compare with how she’d feel leaving Troy on Sunday. It amazed her that someone she hadn’t known a week ago could now seem to be the most important person in her world. She hadn’t expected it, but somewhere along the way, she’d fallen head over heels in…something for Troy Langtree.

  Real love? What Venus knew about real love she’d learned from her mother and foster mother. She knew next to nothing about romantic love, so she couldn’t be one hundred percent sure.

  But it felt pretty darn close.

  She’d lain awake this morning, marveling at that fact, until she finally had to get up and go do something. Figuring Troy would still be sound asleep, she’d donned her bikini and gone out to the pool to swim some laps.

  Afterward, feeling much more ready to face the day, she’d headed back inside to change for breakfast. She’d paused when she spied Troy standing inside the family room. He’d had his back to her, and she’d hidden a mischievous chuckle as she snuck up on him. She’d paused long enough to admire the view from the rear. She’d never seen Troy dressed in faded jeans and a tight black T-shirt like what he wore this morning. “Why don’t you wear jeans more often?” She reached out and squeezed his taut butt. “You definitely do some fine things for them, darlin’.”

  He’d jerked, as if startled. Before he could say a word, she’d slipped her arms around him and pressed her mouth to his.

  He sucked in a breath, probably shocked that she’d risk kissing him where someone could walk in at any time, but Venus couldn’t help it. Since she’d quietly left his bed just a few hours before, she’d begun to acknowledge how she felt about the man. She’d fallen for him, big time, and wanted nothing more than to be in his arms to revel in her newfound feeling.

  Unfortunately, she realized almost instantly something was wrong. Troy wasn’t kissing her back.

  She tried again, cupping his cheek, turning her head to the side as she tangled her fingers in his hair. Then something bright and shiny caught her eye. A small, gold hoop dangled from his pierced earlobe—an earlobe which had not been pierced when she’d been sucking on it just hours before.

  “What the hell is that on your ear?” she asked, shocked enough to drop her arms and take a step back.

  “That would be an earring,” a woman’s smooth voice replied. “My husband’s earring.”

  Completely in shock, Venus turned toward the doorway. Standing there, looking utterly shocked, was another Troy.

  He was still tousled from his bed, all warm and rumpled. Definitely the man whose chest she’d nibbled on enough to leave a visible love bite—which she could see even from here. Directly behind him stood a petite, obviously pregnant, brunette.

  “Oh, crap,” she muttered. Pressing a completely humiliated hand over her eyes, Venus took a step away from the guy in jeans—who had to be Troy’s twin brother, Trent.

  Trent started to laugh. So did the pregnant woman—his wife, obviously—who sidestepped Troy and walked across the room. She extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Chloe. You must be Venus.”

  All Venus could do was nod and shake the woman’s hand. If the situations had been reversed, and she’d walked in on her husband in the arms of a half-naked woman trying to stick her tongue down his throat, Venus didn’t think she would have been quite as friendly. Her hand wouldn’t have been extended for a shake. More likely for a slap. Or a punch.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, still feeling awful, in spite of the genuine smile on the pretty young woman’s face. “I honestly thought…”

  “That Trent was Troy,” Chloe finished. “Don’t sweat it. You’re not the first, and you probably won’t be the last. It took me a long time to tell them apart, too.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Trent murmured as he slid an arm across his wife’s shoulders.

  Venus finally worked up the nerve to look at Troy. He didn’t appear too happy and certainly wasn’t handling the situation with the same good humor as his sister-in-law. In fact, his usually bright eyes were somewhat stormy.

  “Troy, I’m really sorry. I feel like an idiot.”

  He slowly crossed the room, his mouth tight and his jaw set. Ignoring the other two, he focused only on Venus. Taking her chin in his hand, he lifted her face to his. “You can always tell us apart,” he said, his tone controlled and confident. “I’m the one who tastes like this.”

  Then, completely uncaring of the other couple, or the still-open door, he brought his mouth to hers in a hot, insistent kiss. His lips parted as he ravenously tasted her tongue with his own, igniting liquid flame in her body.

  Moaning, Venus met every sweet stroke. She pressed against him, curling her fingers into the crisp hair on his chest. Forgetting everyone else in the world, she could only think about what this man had made her feel the night before. What he’d made her feel since the moment they’d met.

  Her heart pounded in her chest and her knees grew weak. She almost collapsed against him, unable to focus on anything except how much she adored being exactly where she was—in Troy’s arms.

  “I think she gets the picture,” someone said with dry amusement. The wife. Chloe? Was
that her name? Heck, she could barely even remember her own right now!

  Troy finally began to pull away, pressing one or two more sweet kisses against the corner of her mouth before stepping back. He kept his arm around her waist and turned to face his brother and sister-in-law. Venus sagged against his side, limp and boneless, just as he’d obviously intended.

  “What is it with you two guys, both kissing your women in front of other people?” Chloe asked, looking back and forth between the brothers. “Ever hear of keeping it in the bedroom?”

  Troy gave her an evil grin. “You’ve got a lot of room to talk, Miss After-Hours-in-the-Store.”

  Chloe glared. “All right, that’s enough. How did you find out? I tortured Trent and he still swore it wasn’t him. Did he really forget one of the cameras?”

  Venus couldn’t completely follow the conversation. But she did see the sparkle of satisfaction in Troy’s eyes at his obvious attempt to get his brother in trouble with his wife.

  Men. What totally strange creatures.

  “I can’t quite recall,” Troy said with a deliberate shrug. “I thought for sure Trent had mentioned it.”

  “Bull.” This from his brother, whose expression demanded his twin tell the truth. “Don’t forget, paybacks are hell.” He cast a knowing look toward Venus, as if warning Troy that he, too, now had a weak spot.

  Never having considered herself anyone’s weak spot before, Venus found herself liking the feeling.

  “Oh, all right,” Troy said with a phony-sounding sigh. “The security guard dropped some details about you paying him to leave for the night. I figured it out for myself.” Glancing at Venus, he quickly explained about his brother’s date with Chloe in the store after hours, concluding by saying, “He’s such a cheapskate. Chloe, I’m amazed you ever went out with him again.”

 

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