by Shayla Black
I’ve never felt as vulnerable as I do right now.
“What are you thinking?” I whisper.
“Things that would probably scare the hell out of you.”
My heart skips a beat. “What do you mean?”
“I’m compiling a list of everything I’m dying to do to you. It’s long, detailed, and filthy.”
The flesh between my legs clenches. A whimper escapes my throat. “Please.”
He moves like lightning, plucking me from the bench and settling me astride his lap. The full cup of my wine sloshes over the rim and onto my white tank. The wine-soaked shirt sticks to my skin, and I don’t care. Neither does he.
I let the plastic cup fall from my grasp and wrap my arms around his neck. He grabs my nape and hauls me closer, branding my lips with his in a fiery kiss that sizzles every inch of my body.
Rand isn’t content. His fingers on my neck tighten as he slants his mouth and nudges mine open before lunging inside, deep and possessive. He masters me in that instant, and I know I’ll never crave another man’s kiss the way I will his.
It’s electrifying and terrifying—but there’s no going back.
Rand wraps his arms around my waist, clutching me tighter. When he’s eliminated every sliver of space between us, he barges into my mouth even deeper, somehow stealing more of my soul.
I can’t breathe and I can’t think—and I don’t care. I’ve never felt as alive as I do right this moment.
But I need more.
Another whimper escapes my throat as I writhe on his lap. There’s no way I can miss how solid and strong he is—and how thick and steely he feels between my legs as I work myself against his cock. My pussy aches. My clit burns. I’m on fire. My unsatisfied body cries out for every inch he’s got.
I tear my lips away. “What are you doing to me?”
“Everything you’ll let me,” he pants as his gaze falls to my tank. “Starting with sucking on those pretty fucking nipples.”
That’s all the warning I get before he lifts me to my knees, aligns my crests with his waiting mouth, then fastens on to one—cotton and all—drawing it deep, before sliding to the other, as if he can’t taste enough of me.
He sucks on my tank-clad tips long, strong, and deep. I feel him all the way between my legs. It’s like nothing I’ve ever imagined. We’re still fully clothed, and he’s barely had his hands on me for two minutes. My body is already weeping for the satisfaction I’m convinced only he can give me.
“Rand.” I cling to his shoulders, tossing my head back and arching to offer him my breasts.
“That’s a good girl, honey. Give them to me.” He switches to the other, feasting until I’m damn near out of my mind. Then he eases back with a teasing lick. “Get rid of the shirt and show me what’s mine.”
Maybe I should worry about his possessive demand. But I’m greedy. I’m needy. It only works me up more.
I drop one strap of the tank, then the other, and let the garment slither down to my waist. My bare breasts bob in his face, inches from his lips. He stares at them, then looks up at me.
A wide, suggestive smile beams across his face as he cups my flesh and leans in. “Fuck yes.”
His hot exhalation spreads across my skin, making me shudder. But that’s nothing compared to the furnace of his mouth enveloping my nipple and dragging it into its hot depths.
Fresh desire scalds my veins. The lust I’ve been trying not to give in to since the moment I laid eyes on him overtakes my good sense. I don’t care that there are revelers just down the shore who might hear us. I don’t care that people are boating across the lake who might see us. I can’t think beyond Rand and his arms banded tightly around me while we’re sheltered in the cocoon of our closeness by the giant branches and swaying leaves of the stately oaks. We’re wrapped together in our own world, in this moment seemingly made just for the two of us.
His touch is both demanding and tender, and I’m warmed by his restraint. But right now I’m desperate for him to throw all caution to the wind and simply take everything he wants as he takes me.
I dig my fingers into his shoulders, my breaths harsh and rapid. “More. Now. Please.”
He licks his way up the side of my breast, nips at my shoulder, then settles his lips against my ear. “I’m trying to take this slow and gentle, but you sound so pretty begging—”
“I don’t need gentle. I just need you.”
“Be sure, honey. If you say yes, I’ll fuck you ruthlessly and hard. And I won’t stop.”
His words alone make my knees weak. “Hurry!”
He hesitates a split second, then sets me on my feet. Before I know what’s happening, he rips his T-shirt over his head. His tank follows, and I get my first glimpse of his bare torso.
The darkening shadows of dusk outline his thick neck, wide shoulders, and bulging pectorals. Distended veins rise from his beefy arms and big hands. His eight-pack is deeply delineated, emphasizing the notches above his hips protruding over the waistband of his jeans. He drips strength. He oozes vitality.
My eyes bulge. I’m literally speechless. But that’s okay. Why waste time talking?
I lunge at him, wanting my hands and mouth on him.
He grabs my shoulders to stop me. “Stand.”
Now? I’ve never wanted to touch anything or anyone more in my life. “In a minute. Please. Just let me…”
His grip on my shoulders turns firmer. “Later. Right now, you get to make one choice: Do you want me to fuck you or spank you first?”
I search his face. He’s not kidding.
Excitement whirls in my belly. “Um…”
“Can’t decide, can you?” A sly smile curls up his mouth. “I figured you for a dirty girl.”
Then he yanks my tight, stretchy shorts down to my ankles, hauls me face down across his lap, then pins me in place with a huge palm sprawled across my back.
“Rand?”
“Spanking it is. You’ll have to be quiet or the neighbors will hear.”
I struggle to bite my lip and keep my pleading in, but need muddles me too much for silence. Before I know it, his free hand whooshes down with a hard slap on my backside. It hurts like hell, but I swallow my yelp to protect our privacy. The neighbors running to my “rescue” would only end in disaster and scandal.
Then Rand rubs his palm over the flaring heat, pressing it back into my flesh. What felt like pain now feels altogether different. Suddenly, I’m more alive, more aroused—and more wet.
“Oh, my god,” I gasp out.
“Ever been spanked?”
“No.”
Without warning or mercy, he slides his hands between my legs, cupping my pussy in his big palm, rubbing me as if he owns me. “But I can tell you like it.”
I can’t stop myself from grinding against him. “Yes.”
“Good girl.”
The satisfaction in his words seeps into my blood, making my desire burn hotter. He turns up the flames even more by landing a quick succession of alternating blows, two on each cheek.
I’m panting and struggling to process these new sensations when he leans in. “Now you get two more.”
“Why?” Not that I’m upset.
“Well, I could tell you that one swat is for the pleasure you gave yourself earlier today that was mine to give you and the other is because you lied about it.”
“How did you know?”
“Oh, honey, I heard you. Next time your pussy aches, come to me. I’ll take care of it.”
Will there be a next time? If I want him to put out this fire he started, now isn’t the time to ask. “All right.”
“Good. So I’ll be honest and tell you I’m adding two more because your pretty, pert ass has taunted me all afternoon and I can’t wait to spank it more.”
He smacks each cheek once, then seals the heat in with another pressing stroke of his palm, groaning in obvious satisfaction. “Even in this light, you look sweet and rosy.”
Knowing he’s p
leased arouses me even more, but I don’t have time to bask in the moment before he rips the spandex shorts from around my ankles and tosses them aside. In one smooth motion, he sets me on my feet again, rips open his fly, and reaches into his pocket. After a quick rip of the square foil between his teeth, he sheathes himself, lifts me up to straddle his lap again, aligning his crest with my burning, clenching opening.
“Look at me.”
I can’t look anywhere else. “Yes.”
“Mine.” He grabs my hips and pulls me down as he surges up, joining us together.
His cock juts deep into my body, and I swear I feel him all the way to my soul. “Yes!”
Rand
The moment I bury myself inside Sophie, liquid pleasure jets down my spine. But she doesn’t just feel good, she feels right. Maybe I’m crazy. Maybe this is just a fling for her. Maybe she’ll walk away from me as soon as she’s safe.
But the way she’s looking at me now with her misty blue eyes so full of wonder and need, I don’t think so. I’m going to do my damnedest to make sure leaving is the last thing she wants.
“Say you’re mine,” I prompt.
“I’m yours.”
I lift her up my shaft and hold her steady. She wriggles and whimpers, clutching me as she attempts to shove her way down, but I won’t relent. Not yet. “Again.”
“I’m yours, Rand. All yours.”
The delicious whine in her voice makes me crave her even more. With a lift of my hips, I push her back down, working myself even deeper.
Her head falls back, and the last remnants of the sunset make her body gleam golden. Jesus, she’s like every fantasy I’ve ever had, her gasp dripping pleasure, her lush breasts bobbing, her pussy gripping me so tight. But it’s her eyes that slay me. I see all of her, even the feelings she tries to hide.
The connection we have isn’t one-sided.
My heart kicks into high gear. “I’m falling for you.”
“I’m falling, too.”
“Perfect.” We can fall together.
The thought zips through my brain, chased by a need to kiss her. I slant my lips over hers. She opens to me without barriers or hesitation. I dive deep, taking possession of her mouth, just as I’m doing to her body. She falls against me, clings to me, melts into me.
And I’m lost to her.
If I had a bed, I’d lay her out, scoop her in my arms, and heap pleasure on her all night. In fact, I probably will—later. Right now, I’m all in with Sophie, stroke after stroke after stroke, lifting her up my shaft, then pulling her back down onto me as I rise up to meet her.
Behind us, the holiday fireworks begin, bursting big and bright over the lake. Faint oohs and aahs murmur from people nearby. I’m too focused to care about anything except Sophie.
I brace my hand on her hip and settle my thumb over her clit, teasing without mercy. It isn’t long before she tightens and cries out, whimpering into my kiss.
I take her tongue, penetrate her body, and tell her without words that, before I release her, I intend to own her heart.
Sophie puts up no resistance. Instead, she welcomes me deeper. Every inch of me she takes, I give her more. There’s no way I’m relinquishing her, even after I catch this predator hunting her.
Behind Sophie, the fireworks burst again, vivid and dazzling, an explosion of colors. Desire surges. Above me she tenses. Her breaths stutter. Her cunt tightens.
“You there, honey?”
“Yes,” she pants, head bobbing. “Yes.”
Thank freaking god. “Good girl. Come when you’re ready.”
Frantically, she nods, her breaths turning even choppier as her skin takes on a rosy tint visible under the stark white light of the latest firework. That sexy red mouth of hers widens into the shape of an O as she drags in a shuddering breath and her body squeezes my cock mercilessly. Then her head falls back as another colorful explosion brightens the sky, and she screams.
Her quaking orgasm destroys the last of my self-control. I bury my face in her neck, latching on to the tender skin there, and groan through the most destructive yet dazzling ecstasy I’ve ever felt in my life.
When it’s over, I can barely breathe. Thinking is a hard no. I feel flattened.
What the fuck was that?
I don’t know…but I’m happy as hell.
My body stops pulsing, but I still need to hold her close. “Sophie?”
“I think I love you,” she admits between audible breaths.
She’s not kidding—and that’s more than all right with me.
“I think I love you, too.”
A big smile stretches across her face. “So…are the fireworks over?”
The ones celebrating the holiday might be. Ours? Not so much. “Why?”
“I want to go back to the cottage and do that again.”
Fuck. She’s perfect for me. “Same. Let’s go.”
I lift her off my lap and set her on wobbly feet. It takes a few moments to locate her clothes, but we finally put them on for the short trek to the cottage. I’d love to keep her naked…but we’ve already taken more risk with her safety and public image than we should. Besides, this will give me the opportunity to undress her all over again.
Once I’ve got my zipper up and the rest of my gear back in place, I take her hand and lead her toward the cottage. “Happy?”
She grins at me. “Very. But how did you just happen to have condoms?”
“I made an educated guess. When I texted Hal that we’d arrived to pick up the groceries, I asked him to bring a bottle of wine and a box of condoms, too.”
“They were in that bag?”
“Yep.”
“Sitting right between us?”
She looks so adorably shocked that I have to laugh. “Yep.”
“No wonder he wished you good luck.” Then she gives a good-natured shake of her head.
“I wanted you.”
“I wanted you, too,” Sophie breathes. “Still, you were awfully sure of yourself.”
“I think you proved I had a reason to be.”
“I can’t argue with that.” She wobbles and reaches out for my hand with a hiss. “Ouch!”
“What?” I stop, looking on with concern.
“I just stepped on a rock.”
A glance down proves her feet are bare. “Where are your flip-flops?”
“I don’t know. They fell off somewhere near the swing.”
Damn it. The path ahead is too rocky for her to go on. “Stay here. I’ll get them. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
“Thanks. I didn’t realize how rocky this path is.”
I hate to leave her alone for even as long as it takes to fetch the flip-flops. But if I don’t, her feet won’t be thanking either of us later.
With a quick jog, I reach the swing again, toeing the discarded condom under a bush while searching for the sandals. Finally, I find the rubbery pink soles with the black glittery straps and scoop them up, then turn back for the cottage. Behind me, the fireworks continue exploding overhead, but I don’t mind missing out. The pyrotechnics I want are waiting for me with Sophie.
I never imagined when I woke up this mooring that I’d be Sophie Larsen’s lover and losing my heart to her by nightfall. But now there’s no going back—for either of us.
Shelving the rest of my philosophical thoughts, I lengthen my steps up the hill to get back to her side. At the top, I spot her silhouette standing in the moonlight, but she’s not alone.
Someone stands beside Sophie with a cruel grip on her arm and a gun pointed at her head.
Sophie
As Rand disappears down the hill to find my shoes, I fight a loopy grin.
I’m in love.
Yes, it sounds stupid, even to me—and I’m living this reality. But Rand has been everything I’ve wanted in a man and a partner since the moment we met. The instant zing was a clue. The way we naturally worked to solve problems together assures me we share something special. And the sex… I let
out a long sigh because I’ve never felt pleasure like that in my life. Hell, I never even dreamed it was possible.
But now what? We have really different lives.
Yes, but do we have to?
The thought comes out of nowhere…yet not. I’ve been thinking for a while that I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in the spotlight. I can’t picture dragging Rand from concert to concert, and I miss having a real home. And I’d like to have kids in the next couple of years.
Oh, my gosh. You met this guy today, and you’re already talking marriage and babies?
Okay, I’m probably getting ahead of myself. I just need to downshift and—
Suddenly, a clicking noise sounds behind me and I feel something cold against the back of my skull. “Hello, Sophie.”
I know that voice, just like I know what’s prodding my scalp. My heart trips into overdrive. What am I going to do? “Why are you holding a gun to my head, Dorinda?”
“The answer should be obvious since I tried to have you killed this morning. I made sure Rob’s food got poisoned last night, so I assumed you’d be easy for my hired gunman to pick off.” She sighs. “I didn’t count on you having another bodyguard to save you. But today proves that when you want something done right, do it yourself.”
Panic sets in. If Dorinda says she’s going to do something, she damn well follows through.
If I let her, I’ll be dead.
“Wait! Why?” I demand to stall. “You’re still making money off of me.”
“Sales of your earlier recordings are dwindling. If you die now, everyone will remember you fondly as you were when you first appeared on the charts, not like the whore you are now.” She looks me up and down with a sniff. “Those wholesome songs will be downloaded and played. But this isn’t about money. It’s about disrespect.”
“You think I disrespected you?”
“I don’t think; I know. Time for you to pay.”
Shit. I have to keep her talking until Rand comes back and hope for the best. “How did you find me?”
She tsks as if my question—and me by extension—is annoying. “I’m far more clever than you ever gave me credit for. It was your lipstick. I paid the stylist to make sure you carried the tube, with the tracking device inside, just in case the gunman proved inept.” She sighs. “I hate being right so often.”
