Keeping Wicked (The Mitchell Brothers Book 3)

by Kathryn L. James

  “What do you want?” I muttered stepping onto the small porch.

  His hand grasped my elbow and joules of electricity zinged at his touch. His sinful mouth curled into a ghost of a smile.

  “To kiss you.”

  Without warning, his mouth crashed onto mine and my knees nearly buckled out from underneath me. He cupped the sides of my face, pulling my bottom lip between his. Then his tongue skimmed my flesh and I opened, accepting him inside.

  I let out a soft whimper, circling my arms around his neck holding on for dear life. He slanted his head to the side and deepened the kiss. Our tongues erotically danced, and I drown in the deliciousness.

  “Tomorrow night. Seven. Dress casual,” he whispered against my mouth and then left me standing there breathless and in a complete daze.

  Chad Mitchell made me feel as though I could reach out and touch the stars.

  Chapter 5

  I hastily packed some of my clothes inside a moving box and sealed it with wide strips of tape. The clock moved at a snail’s pace as I taped one after the other down. Nothing kept my mind off of last night or the anticipation of going on another date with Chad tonight. Carli and I had text several times this morning, but I chose not to tell her about the second date.

  I wasn’t ready to talk about how he was obviously a playboy who enjoyed being single and chasing women—and I wasn’t ready to talk about the chemistry between us when I didn’t even understand it myself.

  Too many times to count, I’d glanced over at my phone, willing it to ring. I eagerly wanted him to call, to hear his sexy husky voice resonating through the speaker into my ear. In hopes of distracting my reeling mind, I pressed the music app and sang at the top of my lungs while at work packing up my things.

  By midafternoon, I’d moved into the kitchen, and began wrapping dishes with old newspapers. One by one I placed plates inside a clear plastic bin on the granite island countertop. Moving on to glasses, I stuffed paper inside and when Enrique Iglesias filled the air with the lyrics of “Tonight (I’m Fuckin’ You)”. I let a juice glass slip from my fingers and it shattered all over the pristine white ceramic flooring.

  “Shit!”

  I didn’t move an inch, listening to the entire song and goosebumps spread about my body. Not because I was cold, but because I wondered if a song on the shuffle play could be giving me an insight on what was going to happen tonight.

  Finally, I cleaned up the mess and managed to pack up the entire kitchen before taping them all closed.

  My heart raced and my cheeks flushed thinking about how his fingers felt against my skin and his lips burned my flesh. Tingles traveled down to my toes and I marveled in the sensations. God, he made me feel good. I squeezed my eyes closed, wanting a one-night stand with him. One night and one night only. I wanted him to be the one to make love to me—give me the final-no-turning-back freedom I craved.

  “Mercy,” I whispered.

  I didn’t like complication of any kind in my life and yet I wanted to complicate the hell out of it with a one-night fling filled with no-strings-attached hot sex.

  Nothing more. Nothing less.

  Taking count of the boxes I’d labeled, I stopped in place.

  Large letters spelling “Chad Mitchell” were in bold print with a black marker instead of labeled “Kitchen”. I rolled my eyes and left his name in place before moving along to the next room.

  Downhearted and hands on my hips I surveyed the organized chaos for the moving company scheduled for tomorrow. It was time to start getting ready for my date, with only one and half hours before I saw him again. I laughed quietly and rolled my eyes. I’d been so caught up in brain-overload, I’d packed all of my damned clothes.

  “Way to go, big dummy,” I drawled the words out into an almost song and found one of the boxes on the bottom of the stack.

  At six pm, I sat on a pink leather stool in front of the vanity inspecting my final results. Chunky curls fell below my shoulders and I’d applied dark charcoal eyeliner along with smoky eye shadows making my eyes appear cat-like. It was as if a complete stranger stared back at me.

  Happy with the results, I slipped into a freshly ironed white button up, a pair of jeans and comfy strappy beaded sandals. Lastly, I fastened a small strand of pearls around my neck, as well as a matching bracelet and earrings.

  My phone chimed and my heart pounded when I saw Chad’s name.

  Chad: My driver will be there in fifteen minutes.

  Shit! I need a shot of tequila to intoxicate the damned butterflies taking flight in my stomach.

  Me: Where are we going?

  Chad: A surprise.

  For fifteen minutes, I paced the room like a maze, circling around furniture, boxes, and packing supplies. Finally, after I’d stomped a trail around the room, a car horn sounded at the curb and before I could blink, I climbed into the backseat of the Range Rover.

  Too giddy to speak, I tried to kill time scrolling through social media. It wasn’t until we had been on the freeway for around ten minutes before I noticed we were headed in the direction of Ft. Worth.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Mr. Mitchell has asked it to be a surprise, ma’am.”

  A wide smile spread across my face keeping my gaze on the landmarks along the way trying to figure out our destination. Excitement intensified with every second, memorizing every turn we made until turning into a residential acreage area. Sitting high and upright, I focused on the street sign reading McAllen Drive. The asphalt winded into what seemed to be in the middle of nowhere until we pulled through a wrought iron entrance with a large M in the center at the top encased in an iron circle. Crepe Myrtles in full pink blooms lined the long drive.

  “Is this Chad’s home?”

  “Mitchell Ranch, ma’am.”

  A gorgeous graceful buckskin mare galloped in the pasture while several others grazed, and in awe, I drank in their beauty. When we came to a stop, the man with the build of an MMA fighter opened my door. He tipped his head toward the front door.

  “Have a good evening, Ms. Wright.”

  “Thanks. You too.”

  A massive rustic log and white stone home sat on a large tract of land and the air was fresh with hints of honeysuckle. I walked along the sidewalk lined with red mulch and small vibrant green hedges all the way to the front door. This was pure solitude. Four large rocking chairs, perfect for relaxing on a warm sunny day with a good book, made me want to test them for the comfort they promised. Overhead ceiling fans hung from the cathedral arch lined with beams and a porch swing hung at the end.

  I stared in amazement. No sounds of traffic or the hustle of the city permeated the air. Birds musically chirped and in the distance a dog barked. A gentle breeze brushed my skin and the most gorgeous sunset began to gift the sky.

  “I thought I heard Neil drop you off.”

  “This is stunning.” I held up my hand gesturing the premises.

  “Thanks. Come inside.”

  As I walked past him, he closed in and placed his hand on the small of my back. Like the night before, a frenzy of tingles swept through me at the simplest touch sparking my body’s reaction.

  The aroma of spices and something delicious wafted through the air and I turned toward him.

  “You’re cooking?” I’d only been around a handful of men in my life, and none of them knew how to boil water—including my own father. Why would they? They’d all paid people to take care of these things.

  “We’re having grilled steaks with whiskey sauce and loaded baked potatoes. Sorry to disappoint you, but the salad was dumped out of a bag.”

  “Smells amazing.”

  “It’s going to taste amazing.”

  “Arrogant much?” I teased.

  “Telling it like it is.”

  “I would challenge you with a bet, but since I’ve never had had a home cooked steak before, I don’t have anything to compare yours to.”


  “You’re kidding.” He arched one eyebrow upward.

  “My dad… wasn’t the grilling type.”

  “Tell me… you like steaks, right?”

  “It’s one of my favorite meals. I can’t wait to taste it.” My eyes trailed to his lips on their own accord.

  I heard him draw in a breath and I noticed his chest rising and falling heavier. He looked at me with hooded eyes and I knew he wanted whatever was brewing between us as much as I did.

  “I’m dying to kiss you again. Your taste is all I’ve thought about,” he whispered huskily.

  “I’m... dying waiting for you to taste me,” I whispered back.

  He reached down brushing a tendril of hair from my face and rested the palm of his hand against my cheek caressing my skin with his thumb.

  His other hand snaked around and splayed against the small of my back. It made me feel as if he owned and possessed me while drawing me against him. It’s still overwhelming how a man I’ve only known a few hours could make sparks fly? Where is this reaction coming from?

  When his mouth pressed against mine, all thoughts of trying to rationalize the how’s or the why’s didn’t matter. My mouth opened, inviting his tongue inside and I sank my fingers into his silky messy hair. Kissing him came naturally, as if my mouth belonged to his lips. Our tongues danced together in a slow pace and he released a moan at the same time I whimpered.

  He pulled back and I wanted to protest, but when his forehead leaned against mine, I melted.

  “God, that mouth is all I’ve been thinking about.” His minty breath brushed across my skin.

  “Me too,” I replied, barely audible.

  “I better check on the steaks.”

  Breathlessly I nodded, “Can I do anything in the kitchen?”

  “I like you standing there and letting me imagine what your hiding underneath all those clothes while I finish up.”

  The thought of the scar marring my body flashed into my mind. What would he think if he saw it? Kissing him was one thing, but having sex was another. Was I ready? Could I do this? The sensations between my legs said yes, and I almost laughed.

  “I can make myself useful and get us drinks.”

  He let out a throaty deep laugh. “There’s sweet tea or wine.”

  “Since I’m legal and all, I think I’d like a glass of white wine,” I playfully threw out to measure his reaction for lingering doubts in regard to our age difference.

  “I’ll have the same since at least I’m not contributing to a minor.” Humor danced in his eyes and when he winked my stomach swooned.

  Dinner was tortuous. We chatted and each time he spoke my gaze trailed to his mouth. It was like a moth to flame. Even underneath my eyelashes I watched him. He was magnificent, the most handsome man ever created.

  The invisible magnetic force pulling me to him felt tangible and it felt good. And if he wanted me, I knew I was going to have sex with him tonight. My breath hitched at the thought and my heart pounded in my chest.

  “Is the steak not cooked to your taste?”

  Caught up in my thoughts, I’d been shoving around the food on my plate. I pulled my lip between my teeth.

  “Oh no, it’s delicious... I want you more.”

  A fierce lust-filled expression darkened his intense eyes. Never taking his gaze off mine, he set his wine glass down, almost knocking over the heavy high back wooden chair as he stood.

  This was all new to me and the simple truth was that when he awoke my hibernating hormones, there wasn’t a strong enough sedative in the world to make them go back to a resting state.

  I needed to be made love to, proof that the brutal scarring hadn’t fucked up my life forever. That the horrifying brand marking my skin didn’t own me.

  In a flash, Chad clutched onto my arm and pulled me into his arms. Mouth inches from mine he brushed his nose against mine softly breathing me in.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered.

  “Kiss me.” I placed both of my hands on each side of his face and drew him to me.

  He dominated my lips savagely, fisting his hands roughly in my hair. This was going to be a night that would be forever tattooed in my memory. Tonight, was a new beginning.

  In a tangled shuffle, we inched down the side of the table, his mouth trailing kisses up my neck to my ear. Biting my lip, it was useless to try and hold back the moan escaping my lips. Fiercely, he pushed the high-back dining chair away from the table with his foot sending it tumbling over onto its side. He lifted me up onto the wooden surface with a Texas star engraved in the center.

  This was happening.

  And I wanted it more than my next breath.

  His fingers found the buttons of my blouse, unfastening them one by one. Melting against him, goosebumps spread along my delicate skin as soon as he tossed my shirt across the room.

  Standing between my thighs, he pulled back and his searing gaze was like pouring gasoline on an already blazing inferno. My nipples instantly hardened beneath the lacy demi bra. He skimmed his fingers across my breasts spilling over the ivory lace then lowered his mouth to follow the trail of his fingers.

  I hadn’t felt his hands unsnap the closure on my back, but in a blink, he hurled it somewhere behind me and his mouth found my beaded nipple. Sucking it between his lips, his hand cupped my other breast, pinching the taut bud between his thumb and finger.

  My legs circled his hips and my head fell back feeling the thrill all the way down between my legs like shockwaves.

  “Lie back,” he commanded huskily.

  I did as he said, and his gaze never left mine as he removed my sandals. When his fingers unsnapped the button on my pants, I almost froze because of what lie underneath.

  His mouth returned to my breast, licking and sucking while his skillful hands slid my pants down my legs until they were gone followed by the silky ivory panties.

  Pulling away, he raked his hungry eyes down my body landing on the horrific scar marring my lower abdomen. For a split second I froze. His expression was unreadable and when I made a move to flee, he caught my hips in his hands holding me in place. I quickly moved my hands to cover up what would always be the grey in my soul.

  “Don’t cover yourself,” he commanded.

  I swallowed hard, knowing he was repulsed. A man like him only sought out perfection and I dropped my chin unable to hold his gaze.

  “What happened?”

  “It was a long time ago.” Chin to my chest, I wanted to die of shame, wishing for a crack in the floor to open and swallow me alive, freeing me from the humiliation “We don’t have to...”

  His hand reached under my jaw tilting my head upward, forcing me to look at him. His jaw ticked and his eyes were soft with tenderness with flames of desire still dancing in the depths.

  “Never hide who you are.”

  Then he did the unexpected. He leaned down and kissed the botched-up brand below my navel—the ugly imprint of a champion bull riding belt buckle that hadn’t even belonged to the psycho wannabe cowboy.

  That awful scar was the result of a stupid girl trusting the spawn of Satan himself. I thought Preston had loved me and it wasn’t until I’d told him no, he’d decided to brand me with a belt buckle that belonged to one of his buddies. And if Carli hadn’t saved me that night, he would have raped me.

  “Slide back and put your feet flat onto the table.” He commanded, guiding me in the direction of his order. When I was where he wanted, he gripped my ankles and spread my thighs. Appraising my body, his hands caressed up the inside of my thighs holding me open wide before swiping a finger through my center crevice.

  “I’m going to make you feel so good you won’t remember your own fucking name,” he dipped his head at the juncture and his mouth came down on my sex. Masterfully, he fully owned me lapping and flicking his tongue in the most delicious swirls of shear bliss.

  He was right.

  I didn’t reme
mber my own fucking name.

  Nothing. Had. Ever. Felt. Like. This.

  “Let go, Leah. Come on my tongue.” He breathed the erotic words against my skin before sucking the nub filled with millions of bundles of nerves between his lips. He possessed me in a way I hadn’t thought possible and my hips bucked as I soared higher and higher until I felt as though I could touch a star.

  “Oh my God, Chad.” I cried out his name over and over until my shudders began to seize.

  Chad kissed the inside of my thigh and his hooded eyes took me in. “That was a little foreplay to get the night started.”

  Chapter 6

  Chad laced his fingers in mine, pulling me behind him down the hallway to the last door on the right. Dizzy with a passionate high, and still breathless, my heart fluttered with anticipation.

  We entered his darkened bedroom and thankfully he couldn’t see the array of doubts rearing its ugly head in my expression. What if he sensed my inexperience? Hell, I’d only ever made it to first base with a boy, and I’d been seventeen. Chad was a man and surely, he would sense my inexperience.

  He cupped my cheeks between his palms. “You’re so damn beautiful.”

  “Kiss me,” I whispered.

  Moonlight filled the room from the wall of windows, illuminating his features. His lips passionately kissed mine slow and intense, nibbling as if I were the sweetest taste he’d ever explored.

  “I’m going to make you come so many times, Leah. In so many different ways,” he hissed, his teeth gently biting on my lip.

  My nails dug into his back, and I felt the dampness pooling between my legs. His clothes landed on the floor in a heap and his hand found my center core. Pushing a finger deep inside, I let out a frenzied cry. My legs met the edge of the mattress and in a flash, he licked a path to where my shoulder and neck met. I never dreamed I would ever be able to feel this free and fearless—or unscrupulous.

  He slid his finger out and added another, driving them into my sex. In approval, I let my head fall back and zillion goosebumps prickled my skin from my head to my toes.

  “So ready for me, like you’re already about to come apart again.”