by M. A. Ellis
Her!
“Well, she’s content now. That’s all that matters. I love it when she’s blissful.”
“A little bliss right now would be perfect,” Danny added, his gaze hitting Erin from head to toe and every point in between.
“I’m sorry she was a handful,” Linda said, totally missing the byplay. Erin was thankful for small miracles. She wasn’t sure what Linda’s reaction might be if Erin told her she was having impure thoughts about her brother. She knew for a fact her friend was rabidly protective of her twin when it came to matters of the heart. Or even matters of the penis.
Erin had been on the eavesdropping end of more than a few of Linda’s sisterly telephone conversations. That thought was sobering. Danny might not be a player, per se, but the man wasn’t lacking in companionship. Not at all.
“Hey, Dan-o.” Paul joined them in the foyer, Erin’s manuscript and tape player in his hands. “You’re able to placate most of the movers and shakers in the business world but one two-year-old proves to be your downfall? This totally sucks. Linda and I were just getting to a good part in the literary action.”
“Sorry, Paul. I’ll make it up to you.” Danny laughed.
“Make it up to the author,” Linda suggested in a light tone. “She’s the one who has the vested interest in whether the earl is a god among men or just your everyday run-of-the-mill British horndog who blows his load in twenty seconds flat.”
Erin shot her friend a glance, about to tell Linda she had a gift with words when Laurel dropped her bottle then immediately hurled the contents of her stomach in an arc that projected through the air and onto the marble floor. Then the howling began.
“Oh my god,” Linda said in an apologetic tone.
“Oh, fuck! Erin, I’m so sorry. Here.” Paul shoved her manuscript and the player into Danny’s hands and looked around helplessly.
“Paper towels,” Linda said softly in an attempt to quiet Laurel.
“I’ll get them,” Erin said, hurrying to the kitchen. Paul was on her heels and took the roll from her hands.
“Can you get me a bucket of hot water and an old cloth? That stuff can eat straight through grout, I swear it can. Oh shit, Erin,” Paul groaned. “She got some on your sweater. You need to soak that, babe. Pronto.”
Erin looked down at her arm and shook her head. “It’ll be fine. Really.”
“No. Get the bucket then hit the laundry room. I’ll clean the floor. Seriously.”
“Paul,” Linda’s voice yelled from the other room. “She got some on the Aubusson.”
“Holy shit,” Paul muttered. “Rug cleaner too. Stat!”
“It’ll be fine.” Erin laughed. There was a time she’d have flipped over the thought of anything marring any surface of her home. But age and the dissolution of her marriage had helped her appreciate what was really important in life.
Linda sailed through the kitchen archway and tried to grab the paper towels from Paul’s hands.
“I had Danny take her home. Don’t worry, Erin. Paul’s amazing with stain removal. Let me help,” Linda said.
“Go home, honey. You know how she gets after this. If we ever want your brother to sit for us again, we can’t let him see the hellion that his niece truly is. I’ll get this.”
“Paul and I will get it done in no time, Linda. Go on,” Erin urged.
“I’m sorry we messed up the night,” Linda said.
“You didn’t. It was great. You guys helped me a lot,” Erin said, giving her friend a quick hug. They’d definitely assisted with the writing, but equally as important, they’d inadvertently presented her with inspiration if she decided to try her hand at an older woman and younger man tale. She could probably craft one. With the right inspiration from the right guy.
She laughed aloud at the ridiculousness of that thought and thanked her friend again.
“You actually helped more than you’ll ever know.”
Chapter Two
Erin couldn’t wait to get on to the forum. She’d been a lurker but maybe tonight she’d be daring and join in the conversation. It was all that preoccupied her thoughts while she and Paul were performing clean-up duty. She had bid him farewell on the heels of promising an immediate soaking of her sweater and, true to her word, she had done just that, not bothering to throw on another top before heading for her office.
There was every chance that nothing would come of her tossing out a comment that fate finally threw a younger man in her path. The looks Danny had given her were enough to convince her he might be interested. Erin had vacillated between rationalizing those looks as mere delusion due to his tiredness and the unlikely case of him actually wanting to hook up. She already knew what the ladies would say so her next hurdle would be figuring out how to meet him again if that was what she truly wanted. In a place conducive to seduction. Without a puking two-year-old dangling between them.
Erin laughed and powered up the laptop and signed in. The forum was always busy on Sunday nights. She wouldn’t be lacking suggestions on the five “Ws” of research. Who, what, when, where and why. She knew for a fact there would be a follow-up “H”—how did it happen? Followed by the sixth “W”—which positions were involved? The women were brutally frank.
The sensor-activated light attached to the back corner of the house flicked on and Erin typed away, not giving it a thought. She wouldn’t be sidetracked by one of the trash-raiding raccoons that was once again making its way toward her recently secured garbage bins.
“Good luck, sucker,” she said aloud, reading a comment about grabbing life by the balls…and tonguing them gently.
“Am I going to need it?” an amused voice questioned through the opened French door.
Erin screamed. She couldn’t help herself. It came out a second before she realized she recognized his voice, although it seemed a little deeper, a little more alluring than it had when they were standing in the foyer. She spun around, her breath catching when she saw him peering through the screen, his raised forearms resting against the doorframe.
Her heart thundered in her chest, echoing in her ears, and it took her two attempts to actually form a sentence.
“What the fuck are you doing out there?” She only swore when she was excessively angry. Or horribly distraught.
“Returning these, Miss Potty Mouth.” He moved and Erin followed the lines of his arms until she saw his hands. He slowly wiggled her manuscript and tape player back and forth. “Linda pushed me out the door with Laurel so fast, I forgot I had them. May I come in?”
“No,” Erin said hotly. He’d scared her shitless.
“No?” He slid the screen open and gave her a repentant smile. “I’m sorry I startled you.”
She tried to slow her breathing. “Startled me? Centipedes ‘startle’ me, Danny. You nearly gave me a freakin’ coronary.” She placed her hand over hear heart and jerked her gaze downward when she realized she was sitting there half-naked before him.
“Oh my god,” she squealed, spinning her chair around until her back was toward him. “Go away.”
“I don’t want to,” he said in a smooth, utterly sexy voice that sent a little swirl of desire straight down her spine. “I know CPR. If your heart’s really in jeopardy.”
“Shit,” she replied, rolling her chair across the hardwood floor until she could reach the cashmere throw that was lying on the ottoman.
“Oh hell. Don’t cover up, Erin. This is too good to be true. Please.”
She ignored him and whipped the throw around her shoulders and over her cleavage before she turned around again.
“I saw you sitting there and thought, ‘Damn, maybe she’s watching internet porn and I’ll get one hell of a show’. I’ll bet you’re hotter than anything when you’ve ditched the jeans and you’re just sitting there in your panties. Waiting for your kink of choice to get you revved up enough that your hands move off the keyboard and somewhere a little softer.”
Erin stared at him, shocked at what he suggested.
“I do not watch internet porn. And I don’t masturbate in my office!”
“No?” He lifted one foot upward and rested it on the floor just inside the door as he leaned farther forward.
“No. I don’t.”
“I do,” he said, giving her a wide grin. “It’s fun. It’s forbidden. You never know who might walk in. Don’t you periodically do things that are fun and forbidden?”
Erin let her gaze roam up and down his body and didn’t answer. Fun and forbidden didn’t even begin to describe the new and enlightening version of Daniel Marsh. She needed to memorize the sight before her so she could use it at a later date, because it was way hotter than anything she’d dreamed up for her writing thus far.
Hot, sexy male, standing in the doorway just waiting to be invited in, sculpted upper body veeing down in perfect proportion to his hips. Like some preternatural creature that had one thing on its mind—sinking sharp incisors and a steely cock into her at exactly the same time, offering her mind-numbing pleasure and maybe just a little pain. Her pussy gave a pre-orgasmic roll and Erin swallowed hard, clenching her ass cheeks tightly to stop the wave of desire.
“You gonna let me in or not?” he asked in an innuendo-laced voice, lowering his arms as he stepped upward and teetered in the doorway.
“Not,” she whispered, emotions swirling around her brain.
Do it.
Erin wanted to.
What better chance?
It might be a debacle.
He wants to fuck you. You can see it in those eyes.
Why would someone like Daniel want her?
You’re an idiot.
“That’s fine. If you won’t let me in, here you go.”
He pulled his arm back and tossed the tape player toward her and Erin immediately reached for it, dropping the corners of the wrap in the process. The soft fabric slid off her shoulders and down her back in a slow caress. One she chose to blame for the shiver that went through her. The fact that he’d tossed it to purposely dislodge her covering seemed too bizarre to consider. Until he spoke.
“I was hoping you’d do that,” he said, pulling his full lower lip between his teeth as he wiggled his brows. She watched his gaze flit from her breasts to her eyes. “You’re still breathing pretty heavily. Is that because you feel guilty about lying to me? Just now? About the masturbating?”
“I don’t—”
“Sure you do,” he said in a mesmerizing voice. “The question remains if you do it in here. Where anyone outside could see in and watch you get yourself off. See if you like it fast. Or if you’re more of a slow, drawn-out sort of gal. Do you have a stash of toys hidden in the credenza?”
Oh my god.
She didn’t. But the idea that there could have been—and he was bold enough to ask about them—was somehow erotic. Equally erotic was his suggestion that the semicircle of glass windows would offer perfect viewing. A tiny bit of moisture tickled through her folds and she eased her thighs together. Now was neither the time nor the place to give further thought to her latent voyeuristic thoughts.
“You should go.” Erin said.
“Really? Just leave you now, so you can run to your room and get yourself off?”
“I wasn’t surfing X-rated sites and I wasn’t sitting here, ready to play with myself. I was in a hurry to check email, hence the move straight from the laundry room where I disrobed for the sole purpose of presoaking my vomit-stained sweater—thanks to our goddaughter—and ended up half dressed.”
There. A healthy dose of right-back-at-you logic should take care of her rapidly dissolving common sense.
He pinned her with a steady gaze that seemed to indicate he could see straight through her pitiful ruse. The intense stare made her uncomfortable and inexplicably turned-on at the same time. It left little doubt as to why he was so successful at his career.
“Do your nipples always turn rock hard when you’re checking your inbox? That’s gotta be hell on earth,” he said in a honeyed voice, ignoring her demand to stay where he was. He stalked slowly toward her.
Erin clutched the tape player to her breasts, forearms effectively covering the twin points that were clearly outlined against the thin cotton of her bra. Embarrassed, she diverted her gaze to the center of his chest, watching him move closer and closer until he stopped an arm’s reach away. She closed her eyes and slowly shook her head.
“Are you shaking your head no to your nipples getting hard? Because if you are, I’m going to have to be very ungentlemanly and call you a liar, Erin.”
She heard the humor in his voice and wasn’t going to respond until his thumb brushed along her jawline and he cupped her chin in the palm of his hand. His touch was so unexpected, so shocking, that her eyes quickly opened.
He slowly tilted her face upward and Erin didn’t know where to look. His mouth, his eyes, the lone dimple on his left cheek, the soft sweep of honey-colored hair against his forehead. All demanded her attention at once but in the end she settled on his deep green eyes.
“This is all just too weird,” she whispered.
“It doesn’t have to be.”
His eyes twinkled as he leaned toward her, bending to brush his mouth softly against her parted lips. It was barely a touch but it was electrifying, and when she started to pull back, the fingers under her chin flexed just enough that she stayed right where she was and allowed him to press his mouth a little more firmly against hers. It was an assault, yet nothing brutal or sloppy. The straightforward, sweet caress was a hundred times more exciting than anything Erin had experienced.
“I like the way you taste, Erin,” he whispered against her mouth. His tongue traced the seam of her throbbing lips and Erin barely contained a groan. He kissed the corner of her mouth and she couldn’t help licking the path his tongue had taken, picking up a hint of spearmint. His quick, systematic kisses touched her jaw, leaving a tingly path as he worked his way toward her ear.
“I want to taste more,” he said softly before capturing her earlobe between his teeth and running his tongue around the tiny bit of flesh. He leaned forward and wrapped his strong hands around her upper arms, squeezing gently before sliding his lips away.
“Do you like having your pussy stroked?” He pulled her out of the chair, holding on to her until she was standing, unwavering before him.
Erin inhaled sharply, at a total loss for words. No one had ever talked to her that way. Part of her wanted to tell him to stop. That she couldn’t handle the overwhelming emotions that were starting to rise. God, the ladies would kill her if they knew she was ready to call retreat. She wasn’t being assertive. She wasn’t “going for it” as she should.
An undeniably hot younger man was standing before her. Asking her blatantly personal questions that should have been making her blush. But they weren’t. They were making her ten times hornier than she’d ever imagined. But underneath the thrill of it all was a nagging kernel of doubt as to why was he even bothering with her. A woman ten years his senior.
“It’s a simple question,” he said, releasing her arms and sliding his hands downward until he captured her wrists. He held her, no doubt able to feel her pulse drumming against his fingers, and she wet her lips, unsure what to say.
“Do you want me to just find out for myself?” He reached for the snap of her jeans and the slight brush of his knuckles against her stomach made her gasp. Vanity had her tightening her abs and holding her breath. She felt the fabric loosen and she swallowed against the sudden dryness in her throat. Trying to harness a modicum of control, she exhaled slowly and looked upward until she met his heated gaze. And immediately lost her nerve.
“I don’t think I can do this, Danny.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
He bent his head and brushed his lips across the other side of her jaw, following the curve until he reached the sensitive spot of skin where her neck and shoulder met.
“Do you have a problem with my age?” he asked softly, nipping lightly at the skin.
She
clenched her fists as a wave of lust danced through her body with a leisureliness that went beyond maddening.
“No…maybe,” she sighed, exasperated just a bit. “It shouldn’t be an issue—”
“Then don’t let it. I’ve wanted you for a very long time.” He kissed his way to her shoulder then shifted his body to one side before trailing openmouthed kisses to the swell of one breast. “Years in fact.”
That couldn’t be true.
“It started out purely physical,” he said, as if he had heard her thoughts. “Seeing you in that little purple and white tennis outfit you wore the day Linda called and told Zac and me we only had two hours to get everything your cocksucker of an ex had out of the house and onto the lawn.”
He dipped his head and strands of hair tickled her skin. With the tip of his nose he traced a path into her cleavage and up the swell of her other breast and Erin automatically shifted her weight to offer him full access.
“It’s the way the little skirt rode up every time you bent over. How the matching panties hugged your tight ass,” he said, slowly retracing his actions until his lips were once again pressed against the side of her neck.
“When you went down on all fours and pulled that storage container full of old Playboys out from the back of his closet—I almost came in my Calvins. Underwear and jeans. I could have shot a load heavy enough to soak through both.”
Oh my god.
She hadn’t given her garb a bit of thought back then. Hadn’t realized the effect it could have on a man with a healthy libido. It hadn’t done a damn thing for her ex. There hadn’t been any studly-golf-pro-and-innocent-tennis-protégé role-playing going on at 839 Waverly Court.
Danny leaned back and gave her a sinful smile. “I whacked off to that image more times than I can count and Zac probably did the same. But it’s not as physical anymore.”
An inexplicably crushing weight hovered over her heart and Erin quickly looked away. She didn’t need him to tell her she was nowhere near the woman she had been. The latitude to play tennis three times a week and hit aerobic classes the other two had vanished shortly after she’d tossed Harry out on his ass. Now she worked every day so she could afford to keep the house she loved. She was lucky if she made it to the gym at all. She knew with certainty she hadn’t been wet-dream material for quite a few years. Which was fine. She also knew she didn’t want to be anyone’s pity fuck.
