by Brisa Starr
“Hey!” she snaps. “I don’t belong to you, and your jealous behavior is juvenile. Let’s remember when you wedged yourself into my business with the inspection, after I explicitly told you to stay out!” She stomps her foot, which I would think is cute, but now is not the time.
“Last time I checked, that helped you greatly, and you thanked me for it!” I snarl softly, leaning in.
“I thanked you because I’m not a Neanderthal!” she bites back and then tightens her lips, and she looks like she’s about to turn into a ball of fire. I’m about to get burned.
I change course. “Why are you wearing the red dress?” Speaking of it reminds me how much desire is running through me, and I try to control it.
Busted. Her chocolate eyes soften, and she looks at me without flinching. “Because you liked it.”
I take a sharp breath. Fuck. She wore it for me. And I’m acting like an asshole. I exhale and look at her. I want to drag her into the broom closet and give her the pounding we both need so bad, not giving a shit anymore if I get burned.
I swoop in close and whisper, “You look divine, Aspen, and I want to kiss you so hard right now.” She closes her eyes, and my words work their way through her body, and for a brief second, we’re the only two people in the room. In the world.
She opens her eyes, and they meet mine, our imagined solitude cocooning around us.
Then she sighs, and good ol’ clarity flashes behind her eyes. “Look, I’d spend more time with you, since I’m here anyway, but I can’t spend it all with you. I have a list of people I need to network with, and since you’re a crazy, jealous teenager—with no right to be jealous, I might add—I’ll have to bump into you later. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
And with that, she walks off, her voice trailing behind her.
I feel like I’m gasping for air. Shit. I’m such a goddamn idiot. That’s not how this was supposed to go down, though I don’t know what I expected. Of course she has to talk with other people… that’s why she’s here. But I want her all to myself, and I don’t appreciate her comments about my jealousy.
Even if she’s right.
I need to cool down. I walk over to the table where they showcase the donations available for auction from the various companies in town. I slowly walk along the table, looking at each one, searching for Gabby’s Rooster. I find it second to the last, and I see Aspen is donating twenty pies. The first bid is for $300. This is a silent auction, so the bid is anonymous, with only the bidder’s number next to it. After that, I see somebody else has bid $500. The next bid is a thousand dollars, from bidder #0135.
I’ll fix that.
Sorry, Mr. 0135.
I reach into my pocket and pull out the card the hostess gave to me when I arrived. It has my bidder number on it, #0207. I put my number down and the amount for $10,000.
Satisfied, I look up and see her across the room. I can watch her from where I stand. I’d like to think I could relax once I have her in my sights, just watching her, but my body heats up again. She’s working the room, a little too well. One business owner after another, her audience is always captive, no matter who he is. And they’re all he’s. I can’t blame them, though. She’s stunning, and they’d be blind not to be drawn to her beauty and radiant charisma.
I’m staring at her, lost in my thoughts, unaware of the person who comes up next to me.
“Ryker, honey!”
I turn to see my mother. Oh joy. Her usual wild mane of black curls explodes out of her scalp, more frizzy than curly. If it were the 1970s, she’d probably look great. She’s wearing a turquoise silk jumpsuit with at least fifty 24-karat gold bangle bracelets clanking on each wrist, with matching 24-karat gold hoop earrings that are so big they graze the top of her shoulders.
“Jackie. How are you?” I give her a hug.
“I’m fine, but can you at least call me Mom in public?” She shakes her head in disapproval and her mass of fried-looking hair shakes with her.
“Sure, Mom,” I concede, dryly. Although Dad has long since forgiven her, I still resent her for what she did. My dad didn’t deserve her cheating. No one does. If you’re unhappy, get divorced. Don’t cheat. It’s ugly. “So, where’s Mark?” I ask.
She flicks her hand, and her bracelets clink again. “Oh, he’s home, probably sitting in his recliner. He’s no fun at events like these,” she says with a huff. I wonder how long this marriage will last.
I go back to staring at Aspen. “What’s got you so fascinated, Ryker?” She follows my gaze. “Oh,” she says, her voice dripping with disgust. “Her.”
My stomach fills with acid, and I flick my eyes to her. I see my mother stiffen; she doesn’t care for Aspen, and she definitely hates Aspen’s mom, though she has no leg to stand on in that regard. Aspen didn’t make my mom cheat, she merely brought it to my attention. Then I see her cast her eyes down at the table, at the clipboard in front of me, and she sees my numbered bid.
“Ryker, is that your bid?!”
I shrug.
“You can’t be serious. What the hell are you bidding $10,000 for? Pies?! For that bitch, Gabby?” she hisses, a seething sea of anger flashing in her pupils.
“Leave it alone. Mom,” I say, measured, swallowing all the rude things I want to say. “It’s for charity.”
“I will not leave it alone!” I look over at her, and she’s about to say something, but wisely, she holds her tongue.
Then she clears her throat and raises an eyebrow. “Trust me, Ryker. You want nothing to do with Aspen. I’ve heard stories about her. She’s just after money and success, and if you get in her way, she’ll chew you up and spit you out.”
“I think you’re wrong, Jackie.”
“It’s true,” she adds with eerie calm, and it forces my attention on her. “I’ve heard from a couple people that wanted to invest in her hotel. In fact, one recent one. Robert? People say he pulled out because she was demanding and rude. And don’t get me started on Gabby. With all of her ex-husbands, it’s no wonder those two women are after so much money.” She shrugs, nonchalantly, like her words are the calm truth. “They’re bad news. No wonder Aspen isn’t seeing anyone. No one wants her.”
My chest tightens with shards of ice as I listen to her words. I should know better than to pay any attention to what she’s saying. If anyone in this room has a shady track record, it’s my mother.
But while my mom is telling me these things, I’m watching Aspen, and I guess I do find it interesting that she does seem completely obsessed with success and money. Literally, to the exclusion of all else.
My stomach turns, and doubt creeps in. Maybe she’s not the woman I thought she was. It shouldn’t surprise me; most people are after money. I wonder if her drive for success is more like blind ambition. I let out a bitter exhale.
But then I remember that she did buy that heart-stopping red dress, after saying she wasn’t interested in me. What changed her mind?
“Well, honey, it’s been nice talking. Stay away from that one,” she clucks. “She’s trouble. Trust me. You know I always have my finger on the pulse of the town gossip.”
I turn to face her, and she seems sincere, her cynical eyes almost sad, and for a moment, I think she’s actually trying to protect me. It wouldn’t be the first time. And then the moment passes, and her eyes clear when she adds, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
She opens her purse and pulls out an orange Chanel lipstick and swipes some on her lips. Then she says, “Call me next week. We’ll have lunch.” I nod, and she stands up on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek. She’s left a mark. And not just the orange lipstick.
After she leaves, I wipe off her lipstick with the back of my hand.
I look back over at Aspen. I’m not comfortable seeing her with my fresh eyes. My neck feels stiff. I shake my head and wake up. I’ve been wasting my time with her. And I now see she’s already moved on to another person in the room… I count on my hand, one, two, three, four, five. She’s tal
ked—correction, she’s flirted—with five men. I haven’t seen her talk with one female here. I’m seeing things more clearly now. Seeing her more clearly.
Networking, my ass.
Fuck this.
I storm out of the place and get into my car. I roll down the windows and drive home, hoping the warm evening air will relieve the icy cold in my veins. I was stupid. How could I be so blind to her blind ambition? But then, it’s not like she hid it from me. I thought it was innocent, that she was just protecting herself and wanted to establish a little future security.
But watching her flirt all night. I see she has an obsessed, one-track mind. What if I’m the next victim? I get home and storm into the kitchen. I yank open the refrigerator door and grab a beer. The housekeeper has left me some salmon salad, but I have no appetite.
I grab my journal and drink half of the beer while I walk to the deck, my sanctuary. Sitting among the trees, under the stars, will help. I take off my jacket and toss it on the patio chair. I loosen my necktie and take it off and then unbutton the top button on my shirt.
I’m fucking disappointed. Let down. I thought there was something between us. I thought it was just a matter of time before she admitted that we had something special. I’d never felt this way about a woman, and—holy shit—that kiss. I can’t get it out of my mind, and I can’t get that red dress hugging her curves out of my mind either.
But even if my mom is wrong, I now see how obsessed Aspen is with success, and it sends chills down my spine. I lean back and tilt my head to the sky, viewing the stars overhead. I finish my beer, and I’m ready for another. Why can’t I get this woman out of my mind? Why can’t I just forget her?
I hear my doorbell ring. I look at my watch, and it’s after 10 PM. Who the hell? I get up and walk through the kitchen, and I turn on the dim lights in the hallway as I head to the front door.
I open it.
It’s her.
In that red fucking dress.
21
Ryker
We stand there for a moment.
I don’t say anything.
Aspen doesn’t either.
“Hi” she whispers.
I say nothing. I step aside, and she comes into my house.
She’s in my house.
And I’m ravaged with burning desire. The emptiness that this house was a moment ago, like a vacuum, is now flush with oxygen, and I can finally breathe.
I’m not wasting one second with words. I grab her leopard clutch from her hand and throw it onto the table. I grab her and pull her into my arms, so there’s no escape, and I kiss her hard, like I wanted to when I first laid my eyes on her at the auction. I kiss her so hard it hurts, and I don’t fucking care. I’m consumed with desire for her. She’s in my fucking house!
My confusing emotions of anger, lust, and passion swirl through my chest, and it makes me kiss her harder, as if the effort and energy I use to crush her lips will settle me.
She’s stunned and stands still. My lips are pressed to hers, but she’s tense, and not kissing me back. If she didn’t want this, then why did she drive all the way out here? I double down and squeeze her tighter in my arms, like a python, and she calmly exhales through her nose, finally relaxing in my embrace, and then she does it… she opens up for me like a flower, and my tongue seeks refuge in her mouth. Her delicious, tender sweetness engulfs me.
My arms relax their desperate tightness, and a possessive hold takes over as my tongue explores her mouth, ready to explore her whole body. Her soft mouth is slippery and sweet. I push her up against the gray wall behind her, crashing my body into hers, and the sconce next to us shakes. My desire crushing her.
My teeth grab her succulent, red, bottom lip, and I tug on it, releasing a moan from her. I grind my hips on hers, my huge cock, hard and seeking, aching for release.
She pulls on my hair, kissing me back fiercely, matching my ardor. I grind harder, and she moans her permission.
I don’t want to break this connection for even a second to drag her to my bed. We’re kissing… lips to lips, tongue to tongue, breath to breath. I grab her face in my hands, pressing my hips harder into her. She moves her hands to my shirt and starts unbuttoning it while my cock rams against the constriction of my pants, like a raging bull about to be released from its pen, knowing freedom is close.
“Ryker,” she says, and my name on her breath floods my chest with fire.
I need to get this sexy goddamn dress off her. I want her naked body against mine, skin on skin. I pull her away from the wall long enough to reach around her and unzip her dress down her back. I push the straps off her sexy shoulders, and the dress falls to the floor. I step back and she’s left standing there in those sexy high heels, a red lace thong and no fucking bra. Her long, straight, blond hair falls over her shoulders, cascading like golden-white waterfalls over her full breasts, her succulent, hard red nipples begging to be sucked.
“Fuck, Aspen,” I growl. “You’re a fucking goddess.”
If she only knew how her beauty steals my oxygen.
I stare at her, and she lets my eyes lust all over her as I unbutton the rest of my shirt and throw it on the floor. She stares back at me, moving her eyes from mine and slowly raking them down my bare chest.
“Ryker…” I don’t let her finish, and I step to her, kissing her again, my hands groping her luscious breasts. I pinch her nipple with my left hand, and with my right hand, I pull on her hair, giving me access to her neck. I move my lips and plant kisses along her jawline as moans escape her mouth. I drag my lips to the top of her neck, then down the side. That’s when I suck hard. I want this woman. As my woman. Mine. Always.
For a moment, I think of all those men, and how they ogled her tonight, and I bite her. A brand, so every man she meets will know she’s taken. She gasps, and I lighten the intensity and kiss her neck tenderly where I left my mark.
I move my lips back to hers, desperate to feel her tongue in my mouth again, and I unbutton my pants. They drop to the floor along with my boxer briefs, and I kick them to the side. I step back and let her take a moment to feast her eyes on my giant erect cock that’s begging for the wetness of her pussy.
I step toward her and gently push her back against the wall for support. I kneel on the gray and black Oriental rug, mindful that we’re in the entry hallway, and the front door is still open. I kick it shut, and it closes with the heavy thunk of a heavy, hardwood door.
I lean into her and put my face in front of her pussy, still covered with her red thong, and I inhale her sweet essence. I let her scent settle in my nostrils and lungs before exhaling my hot air onto her, matching the heat emanating off her womanhood.
She moans, and I look up at her, and her long, shiny, bright blond hair hangs over her shoulders as she looks down at me with desire and pleasure fierce in her eyes, partly full of awe and wonder at what might happen next, and partly resolved, because she knows damn well what it means when my hungry mouth is an inch from her wet cunt. I pull down her thong, and now she’s standing naked in front of me, wearing only her sexy high-heels, her neatly-trimmed, dark brown bush presented before my face, like a gift.
I spread her legs a little, and I shove my mouth hard onto her wet pussy, and she gasps. I kiss her there, and my tongue probes and separates her lips, finding her wetness. I press my tongue deep into her pussy, and she gushes into my mouth. She tastes so sweet, just like her fucking pie.
I knew it!
I’m ready for a feast, but this position will not work. I’m going to maul her pussy with my mouth, and I want her on her back while I bring her to orgasm. I take her hand and pull her down onto the rug, right there in the hallway, guiding her down onto her back. She’s breathing heavily, her bosom heaving with every labored breath.
Her skin is so soft. I spread her legs and lean over her, kissing her tummy, working my way up to her breasts. I take one in my mouth and she arches her back. “Ohhh, Ryker,” she whispers, needing more, and now her hips are gri
nding into me, her pussy seeking release.
“Oh god, Ryker, please.” My blood, hot as lava, courses through me, fueling me with an insane heat I’ve never felt before. I burn for her.
Finally, Aspen wants me to do something for her. To her. And she asked for it. My ache deepens in my core.
I pinch one of her nipples, while I take the other in my mouth and suck it. Then I kiss it, bite it, and lick it. She moans, a deep guttural sound. This woman needs to come.
And I will not make her wait.
She deserves it.
I bury my face in her sweet, juicy pussy, and I lick her, lapping up her wet desire… desire I created in her. I put my arms under her legs and flick my tongue on her clit, and she gasps, heaving heavy breaths. She reaches down and runs her fingers through my hair, pulling my head into her as she grinds on my face, urgent for release. “Oh god, Ryker, I need to come. Please. I need you.”
“I know. You will,” I promise and dive back into her. I suck on her clit, alternating between flicking it with my tongue and kissing it gently, and then sucking it again. I want all of her. Her pussy is so soft, sweet, and she’s letting me in. My heart races, pumping my fiery blood, making me thirst for her, yearn for her.
I pull one of my arms close to me, so I can finger her while I lick her. I plunge my index finger into her, and her dripping wetness coats it, my jealous cock ready to explode, as it belongs in there.
Soon.
I will make this woman mine.
I fuck her with my finger, gently at first… she’s so damn tight. So very tight, and then the walls of her pussy clamp down on my finger, and my mind goes wild with thoughts of having my cock inside her, relishing the fact that I’m tasting her, that my mouth is loving her. I pump my finger in and out of her faster as my tongue licks her clit in a frenzy.
“Yes, yes. Right there, Ryker! Please, don’t stop,” she gasps. Then she moans, her panting breath desperate for release.