Wild Nashville Ways

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Wild Nashville Ways Page 7

by Sheri WhiteFeather


  Most of the bedrooms were upstairs. Dash’s master suite offered a glamorous bathroom and two colossal-sized closets.

  A staircase led from the balcony outside his room down to a garden with a lap pool and a hot tub.

  He said, “There’s a patio on the other side of the house with a full-size pool and entertainment area. But I use this one for myself.”

  “It’s incredible, all of it.” Every last detail.

  “Thank you. You can unpack your bag if you want.” He gestured to the closet on the left. “That one is empty. It’s for...”

  “Your lovers to use?” I tried not to frown. I didn’t want to think of other women being here with him.

  He nodded, then said, “There’s a dressing room inside the closet, so you don’t have to come out and change. The couple who lived here before had it designed that way. I can’t take credit for how the place was built.”

  “It certainly seems to fit your needs.”

  “It’s actually bigger than what I need. But I loved the layout. The lake is stocked with bass and catfish, and there’s whitetail deer and rabbits and squirrels in the pines. But I don’t allow anyone to hunt on the property.”

  “Zeke told me that he lives across the lake.”

  “It helps having my top security guy nearby.”

  “He said that your chef lives in one of the guesthouses, too. When can I meet him?” I’d only gotten a glimpse of him in the kitchen.

  “I’ll introduce you when he serves our meal.”

  “What’s on the menu?” I’d gotten a whiff of all sorts of yummy aromas when we’d first entered the house.

  “Buttermilk fried chicken, sweet potato fries, cheesy grits and collard greens with bacon.” He smiled. “A lot of your old favorites.”

  “It sounds delicious.” This was going to be a heck of a birthday. Me and my ex in his mansion, eating comfort food.

  “I asked Chef to bake a cake, too.”

  “I can’t wait.” I’d always been a dessert kind of gal. The thicker and richer, the better. But mostly I was thinking about being with Dash.

  Hot and naked. All night long.

  Six

  Tracy

  The meal was amazing. Dash’s chef had outdone himself. He was also a nice, friendly guy. I learned that he lived on the property with his wife and children. I hadn’t expected that.

  I gazed across the table at Dash, wondering about how many other people lived on the Pine Tower property. Was he surrounded by other families? Did it ever make him think of his own? Or did it remind him of the child we’d lost? My thoughts were shifting in all sorts of directions.

  “Is Zeke married?” I asked, as I sank my fork into the dessert on my plate. By now, we were indulging in huge slices of the sinfully delicious chocolate-raspberry cake. “Or does he have any kids?”

  Dash shook his head. “He’s divorced. No kids.”

  “Do you know his ex? Or did they split up before he started working for you?” I shouldn’t care, but I was sitting here with my ex, embarking on an affair. It was tough not to be curious about Dash’s bodyguard and if his past influenced Dash in any way.

  “It was before. He never says much about it, and I’ve never really been inclined to ask. His personal life is his business.”

  I returned to my cake. It didn’t matter if Zeke was married or single or if Dash’s chef had a zillion kids running around the property. I wasn’t supposed to become emotionally invested in this place or its people. Besides, this wasn’t the time to think about anything that would remind me of my broken engagement to Dash or the babies I would probably never have.

  We both went silent as we continued to eat.

  “Do you want to soak in the hot tub after we’re done?” he asked a moment later.

  I nodded, eager to relax and clear my mind. “Can we bring the wine with us?”

  “Yes, but I’m more interested in taking your swimsuit off than playing drinking games.” He cut into a sugared rose on his piece of cake and lifted the fork to his mouth.

  “I never said anything about drinking games.” My pulse pounded between my legs. He looked as if he was letting the flower melt on his tongue. My pulse pounded a little harder. “And just so you know, I’ll be wearing a one piece.” I watched him take another bite. “You’ll have to peel it all the way down.” It wasn’t going to be as easy to remove as a bikini.

  A slow smile spread across his lips. “That’s even better.”

  My skin tingled from my head to my pink polished toes. My bathing suit was pink, too. A deep, dark magenta.

  We finished dessert and put our dirty dishes in the bottom of a metal food cart his chef had brought into the room. At some point, Dash’s housekeeper would take the cart back to the kitchen and wash the dishes. All he had to do was text her to come by. Like the rest of his loyal staff, she lived in one of the guesthouses across the lake.

  Once it was time to get ready for the hot tub, I changed in the walk-in closet/dressing room that Dash provided for his lovers or groupies or whoever he brought home. But for now, I was the woman attracting his attention.

  I checked my appearance in the mirror, making sure that my suit wasn’t riding up in back. I also pinned my hair into a topknot to keep the ends from getting wet.

  I emerged and saw Dash waiting for me. He was wearing beachy printed trunks.

  I breathed as deeply as I could. He looked tall and tan and delicious. Clearly, he thought I looked scrumptious, too. His gaze lingered on me, far longer than was necessary, and the reality of what I was doing hit me like a ton of crumbling bricks. Soon I would be naked with the man I was trying not to love. But that was my choice, my way of tackling my feelings. I wasn’t about to end this affair before it had even begun.

  He grabbed the wine and our glasses, and we took the balcony staircase to his private garden, where the hot tub awaited.

  “I might take a quick lap in the pool first,” he said, as we reached the bottom. “I like to swim before I soak.”

  “That’s fine.” I glanced around. The patio was beautiful, with all the plants and flowers and the artfully strung lights.

  Dash turned on the jets. “You’re all set.”

  “Thank you.” I poured myself some wine and settled into the hot tub while he dived into the pool. He was a strong swimmer, and watching him made me hungry to touch him. But seeing him in this environment also made him seem larger than life. So different from the poor boy I used to know.

  He swam two laps, then joined me, taking the seat next to mine. He slicked his hair back from his forehead and reached for the wine bottle that I’d left on the caddy attached to the side of the tub.

  He filled his glass. “Remember how drunk you got on your twenty-first birthday? I had to tuck you into bed.”

  “I won’t drink that much tonight.” I topped off my glass. “Maybe I’ll just get a little tipsy.”

  “To build up the courage to be with me?” He set his wine aside. “I’m not going to hurt you, Tracy.”

  “I’m not worried about that.” He’d already hurt me years ago by not loving me. How much damage could he do now? “I’m drinking because I want to have fun.” I wasn’t about to admit that I was nervous.

  He moved closer. “I’ve missed you.”

  I’d missed him, too, so danged much. But that didn’t change what had gone wrong between us. “I’m only here for the sex.”

  “I know.” He leaned into me. “It’s just an affair.”

  He kissed me, warm and deep, with the water bubbling around us. Our tongues met and mated, and I wrapped my arms around him. I closed my eyes, as well as my heart. I couldn’t let myself feel anything more than physical pleasure.

  He ended the kiss, and I opened my eyes and looked into his. We stared at each other, unblinking, unmoving, steeped in the strangely tender moment.
>
  “You need to stand up,” he said.

  “Why?” I managed to ask.

  “Because I want to undress you now.”

  I climbed onto the bench seat, anxious to feel his hands on my body. “Is this a good spot?”

  “It’s perfect.” He began removing my swimsuit. Down it went, from my shoulders to my feet, leaving me naked, water dripping softly from my skin.

  He latched onto my hips, and I breathed in the night air. I knew exactly what he intended to do, and I welcomed it fully, aroused by the intimacy.

  I widened my stance, and he put his face between my legs. I delved my hands into his wet hair, and he kissed me down there. He’d always been good at it. But he was even better now. Or maybe I was just desperate for it.

  He deepened the pleasure, and I watched him, thinking how sexy he looked. He watched me, too, glancing up to catch my gaze. We stared at each other again, two people fighting the past. But for now, all that mattered was the way he was making me feel.

  Slick. Hot. Wet.

  I swayed on my feet, letting him take me to delectable heights. I rocked against his face. My old lover. My new lover. He paused to nuzzle my thigh, and I practically begged him to continue. I wanted more, as much as he would give me.

  He resumed his ministrations, swirling his tongue, relentless in his pursuit to make me come.

  As soon as the orgasm hit, I gasped out loud, my vision blurring, my muscles quivering. The wine I’d consumed went to my head. Or was it the thrill of the moment? I couldn’t stop shaking. If Dash hadn’t been keeping me steady, my knees might’ve buckled.

  Once my climax ended, I sank back into the water, and he pulled me tight against him, holding me close.

  “Am I going to have to carry you back upstairs?” he asked.

  I clung to him. “I can walk. I just need a minute.”

  He nipped at my earlobe. “Maybe we should just stay here instead of going upstairs right away, and I can give you a repeat performance.”

  I shivered at the thought. “You’d do it again?”

  “Damn right I would.” He skimmed a hand down the center of my chest and over my stomach. “I’d do it a hundred times, if you’d let me.” He paused for a moment as he stared into my eyes. “Just say yes, and I’ll be happy to oblige.”

  I whispered a breathy “Yes,” giving him permission to make it happen all over again.

  * * *

  We went back upstairs to Dash’s room, and he removed his trunks and wrapped a towel around his waist. I was already naked beneath my towel, fresh from my second orgasm.

  I sat on the edge of the bed and released the topknot in my hair, shaking it out to its full length. I was nervous again, but only because I wanted him so badly. But he wasn’t making a move toward me. He was silent, still.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked.

  “What? No. It’s just that we haven’t talked about what to use, and I was wondering if you’re on anything or if...”

  I lifted my anxious gaze to his. I’d gotten pregnant last time because of a broken condom. But our story didn’t end there. Once we’d realized what had happened, I’d gone to the pharmacy the next day for the morning-after pill. As it turned out, the emergency contraceptive hadn’t been effective because I’d been taking some herbs that had stopped it from working. At that point I’d begun to believe that our baby was meant to be. But I’d been mistaken. Sadly, painfully mistaken.

  “I’m not on anything,” I said. Women with my condition could take birth control in case they spontaneously ovulated. But I wasn’t going to tell him about my POF or how unlikely conception was. “Do you have condoms?”

  “Yes, of course. I’m sorry, Tracy. I didn’t mean to make this conversation awkward.”

  “It’s okay. You’re just being responsible.”

  “I’m certainly trying to be.” He paused, then said, “Oh, before I forget, I have a gift for you.”

  I widened my eyes. “You’re not supposed to be buying me things. That was one of my rules.”

  “This is different. It’s your birthday.”

  He went to his closet to get the present. He came back with a medium-sized, shiny black box topped with a big silver bow.

  He sat beside me, a little too confidently, and I got a suspicious feeling. “This better not be jewelry disguised in a regular box.”

  He shrugged, smiled and leaned toward me for a quick kiss. “Open it and see.”

  I didn’t trust him, not one sexy little iota. I lifted the lid, keeping the bow intact. The gift was wrapped in sparkly sheets of tissue paper. It seemed too big to be jewelry, but too light to be something else. I was intrigued.

  I removed the tissue and uncovered a gold body chain, decorated with rubies. Jewelry, for sure. An unconventional and erotic piece.

  I held it up. Six chains draped in front, one of which would loop around my breasts. As for the rubies, they were everywhere.

  “It’s your birthstone,” he said, pointing out the obvious.

  My heart pounded. “It’s gorgeous, but you still shouldn’t have done it.”

  “It’s too late. I already did. Besides, it’s just a little enticement between lovers.”

  “Then I’ll wear it for you.” How could I not? I dropped my towel and stood to slip on the chain, hooking it around my neck. “Will you fasten the back?”

  He nodded and rose to help me.

  When I turned to face him, I caught a glimpse of myself in a nearby mirror. I looked wild and naughty, shiny and pretty.

  He trailed his hand along the exposed parts of my skin. One of the rubies on the bottom chain dangled just below my navel. I covered his hand with mine and guided it lower, between my legs. He cupped my mound, and I moaned.

  We kissed, and I pressed closer. I undid his towel, making it slip to the floor. I stroked him, and we kissed some more, hot and hungry for each other.

  He removed a condom from the nightstand drawer, and I pulled him down onto the bed. He sheathed himself, and I watched him, fascinated by how big and hard he was. I needed him inside me.

  I waited for him to slide between my legs, but he said, “I think you should be on top.”

  To ride him? Like the cowgirl I sometimes was? That sounded sexy to me. “Should I keep this on the entire time?” I asked about the body chain.

  He nodded, and I straddled him, eager to make his acquaintance. In the next breathtaking instant, I impaled myself, causing both of us to shiver. I moved up and down, rocking on his lap, creating a slow and sensual rhythm. He thumbed my nipples through the gold loops that encircled my breasts. He toyed with the ruby dangling below my navel, too.

  “You look like a princess,” he said.

  I leaned forward, putting my face next to his. “Is that a fantasy of yours?”

  “It is now,” he whispered, then took my mouth in a heated kiss.

  I met the thrust of his tongue, and things got wilder. He gripped my waist and thrust his hips, encouraging me to buck against him. I took him from shaft to tip, riding him hard and fast. I wanted us to come at the same time. We’d always been compatible in that way, so it wasn’t much of a stretch. I knew it was possible. He seemed to know it, too.

  Intent on touching me, he played with my hair, tangling it around his fingers. The chains on my body jangled, rubies winking in the light.

  I dug my nails into his shoulders, branding him with sharp little marks, and he groaned his pleasure.

  The room began to spin. Or maybe it was the climax building in my loins. Dash was hard and heavy between my legs, and I was wet and slick.

  I kept riding him, moving us toward completion. The sound he emitted was feral. He was close. So was I.

  A fire burned in my belly, a sheen of perspiration misting my skin. Dash was sticky with sweat, too.

  I felt him shudder, just
as I shook. We came together, hot and fast and furious.

  After it was over, he disposed of the condom, and I removed the chain and set it on the nightstand. He returned to bed and took me in his arms, holding me tight.

  This affair was definitely off to a wild start, and I was desperate for every second of it.

  * * *

  We slept naked, and when I awakened the next morning, we were in a spooning position, the front of my body pressed against the back of his, my arm looped around his waist.

  Was he still asleep? I could feel the warmth of his skin, the ripple of his stomach muscles. But that wasn’t enough for me. I wanted to get sexual.

  I kissed his shoulder in a loving way, then asked myself what I was doing. I didn’t need to be sweet and affectionate to arouse him, did I?

  No, I thought. I was drifting back to the old days, behaving like the foolish girl I used to be. Old habits and all of that. But it was too late. I sensed that Dash was awake.

  He confirmed it by saying, “Morning,” in a raspy voice.

  I removed my lips from his shoulder and went right for his penis, reaching down to grab it.

  “Morning, yourself,” I said. He was already half hard.

  He moaned and laughed at the same time. “I never could trust you in the daylight.”

  I stroked him, running my thumb across the tip. “I’ve always been frisky that way.”

  “Yeah.” He turned around, bringing us face-to-face.

  He crawled on top of me, pinning me to the bed. I stared up at him, feeling as if I’d just been kidnapped.

  “Maybe we should have breakfast first,” I said.

  He raised his eyebrows. “And here I thought you wanted me for breakfast.”

  “I need real food.” I was making excuses, though I was trying to keep my head on straight. I didn’t like the kidnapped feeling. It gave him too much power, making me afraid that I would never stop loving him.

  He kept looking down at me, as if he was trying to figure me out. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but he didn’t let me go.

 

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