by Bella Andre
His voice turned her liquid inside. Under his gaze, she reached for the sash, only to have him stop her with another of his delicious commands. "My turn now."
Rising from the couch, he stalked her, stopping so close behind her that her body tingled with static electricity. He palmed her breasts, and she gasped at the intimate sensation of his big, warm hands over her, his hard body behind her. He thumbed her nipples, turning them diamond tipped.
"Do you have any idea what you do to me? You make me burn."
She was hypnotized by the harsh need in his voice, and by his touch as he leisurely, tantalizingly slid his hands down her rib cage and stomach to the fabric sash. Blood rushed so fast in her ears that she was dizzy with desire as he slowly undid the bow she'd tied.
Finally, the robe gaped open. A beat later, with fabric pooling at her feet, she was completely bared to him. Everything, from her body, to her heart.
To her soul.
He pressed one hot kiss to her shoulder, then followed it up with the sexiest of orders. "On the bed."
She was naked. He was completely dressed. He was naturally dominant in bed--which she loved, so very much. But in their two precious nights together, he'd taught her how to take a little power for herself.
Bending over, her back to him, she stretched, slowly, deliberately, to grab the top of the bedspread. He groaned.
And she smiled.
After pulling the covers back all the way to the sheets, she crawled onto the bed until she was on all fours. Then she slipped down onto her haunches and looked over her shoulder.
His nostrils flared as though he was scenting her the way a lion tracks his mate. "On your back." His words were barely a whisper on the air. "Then close your eyes and put your arms over your head."
She turned, lay back, and closed her eyes, her body buzzing with desire as she lifted her arms to the pillow.
"Are you ready, baby?" His voice seemed to stroke her, the sheets beneath her heating slowly as she lay there.
"Yes."
The bed dipped, and he slipped something over her eyes. Cool and smelling like lavender--she realized it was a gel eye mask. As good as a blindfold.
With a caress of soft cloth, he bound her right wrist, pulling her arm higher until she was restrained. He did the same with her left wrist, then put his hands on her ankles. "Do you trust me?"
She couldn't speak, could only nod. But that was good enough for him as he gently spread her legs and tied her ankles down too.
*
She was so damned gorgeous, her limbs spread, her skin creamy and flushed with arousal. He wanted to dive on her, take his fill, drown in her, make her scream. Yet he wanted it slow too, wanted to build her to a climax that would rock her world and his. He wanted to worship her body for hours.
And more than anything, he wanted to erase the sorrows of today. Yes, she'd learned a great deal about her brother, but even being the most positive and hopeful person he'd ever met, the dead ends racking up one after the other had to be a killer.
The champagne, the blindfold--and everything else he'd bought--were a temporary escape. As much as he could possibly give her.
"Is this okay?" He didn't want to frighten her, but he'd found that when sight was taken away and movement was impossible, all the other senses kicked in, intensifying every sensation.
"I'm a million times better than okay."
Did she have any idea what her eagerness did to him? Especially when it was so perfectly matched to his. "Tell me the moment you're not. And I'll stop."
"Don't stop." Her lips were luscious, begging him to taste them. "Please don't stop."
He leaned in for a kiss, realizing too late that it was a huge miscalculation. Because one kiss was more than enough to drag him all the way under, rather than allowing him to continue to tease and tempt her until all thoughts but pleasure were driven from her mind. So when his cell phone rang just then, he realized answering it just might be the perfect way to drive her absolutely crazy.
"I've got to take this."
For a moment, she was completely silent, her head turned slightly toward his voice. Then she said, "What?" with total disbelief. "While I'm lying here spread-eagled?"
"It won't take long." He grinned. "And while I'm on the call, I want you to lie there thinking about what I'm going to do to you."
"But--"
He laid his hand gently over her mouth as he picked up the call. "Bruce, thanks for calling me back. I take it you've had a look at the spreadsheet I sent over?"
She didn't make a sound, simply licked his palm--and the shock was so great, so hot, that he almost forgot about Bruce altogether. He simply wanted, his body hard and raging.
Barely listening to his accountant's response, Matt dragged his fingers down to her knee, only to slide up once more, this time gently slipping his palm over her hot, wet center. She stifled a moan, her body shifting restlessly.
"Sounds good, Bruce," Matt said, trailing fingers over her abdomen, her skin jumping beneath his touch. "Thanks for taking a look at it so fast."
By the time he hung up the phone, Ari was writhing on the bed. And it was so damned good, exactly what he'd wanted--to give her long minutes, even hours, where there were no bad things and no sorrow.
Just all the pleasure he had to offer.
*
Everything was sharper like this--the sound of Matt's voice, the feel of his hands. She couldn't see, could barely move. But she could feel him with every sense. And that made it all the more powerful.
His touch on her while he talked to his business associate had been so hot--and so unlike the calm, intelligent businessman and loving father. She loved how, on the road, his outer mask was falling away to reveal the sexy, predatory male he was at his core.
Hearing the sound of his clothes being tossed across the room, one piece after the other, she couldn't wait for the taste of him, for the feel of his skin against hers as she dragged him inside her. But when the bed dipped a moment later, rather than his hands and mouth on her, the touch was as light and airy as...a feather.
"Tell me how it feels," he urged as he stroked her nipples, swirling around them.
"Sexy." Especially when she felt the downy caresses on her breasts. "So soft it makes me crazy."
He played along her arms, her belly, her thighs, her knees, and down to the soles of her feet, making her tremble as though her entire body was an erogenous zone. Then he ran the feather between her thighs, the fleeting touch sparking off minor explosions along the surface of her skin.
Finally, he swooped in, sucking her nipple deep into his mouth, and her body arched involuntarily with a pure shaft of pleasure. Then he nipped her...and everything that had coiled so tightly inside her burst wide open.
"Matt," she cried out. He laid his hand between her legs, barely stroking her at all, making her come simply from the heat of his touch.
She was still floating, hazy and deep in pleasure, when the bed moved, and he padded softly across the carpet, then back again. He scuffed the side table, and the mattress dipped beside her once more.
Cupping her head, he tilted her until a glass touched her lips. "Drink."
The champagne was cool, fizzy, delicious, and she swallowed thirstily.
"Now this. Open your mouth." He touched something to her lips, and she tasted chocolate. "Bite."
Sweet, succulent fruit spiked with dark chocolate detonated on her taste buds. Chocolate-covered strawberries. She ate greedily, then Matt licked her lips clean, setting her insides completely ablaze. It was almost more than she could bear when he caressed her nipples with the cool fruit, trailing from one to the other.
"Look at that sticky mess I made." His deep, sexy voice rumbled over her. Through her. "I have to clean you up."
Oh God, she could come again from nothing but the raw need in his voice. And as his tongue followed the path of the berry, licking, sucking, tantalizing, she twisted her hands, grabbing hold of the silky scarves binding her wrists, str
etching them as taut as her body felt.
Tapping another strawberry against her lips, she took another bite, and then he smeared the other half over her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. Straddling her body, he licked her clean. The pleasure was almost more than she could bear, especially when he drizzled champagne onto the mix and licked that too.
When he'd used his tongue over every inch of the strawberry's path, he kissed her. He tasted like champagne and chocolate and the salt of her skin. He sizzled in her mouth, taking her luxuriously, sucking her lips, her tongue, then going deep.
Finally, he peeled himself off her. But he wasn't done. The bed shifted again, followed by a pop, more sounds, rustles. With a pfft of air, something cool and creamy shocked her skin.
"This is why I suggested we skip dessert at the restaurant." He dragged the smooth, chocolatey flesh of another strawberry through all the creaminess on her body and fed it to her. "I wanted to eat it off you instead."
Everything was erogenous when he was doing this to her. She moaned and arched her body to meet his mouth. Without sight, she was reduced to sensation. A slave to his lips, his tongue, his hands, her body an instrument he was expert at playing. Until he picked up the can again and she almost bucked off the bed as the cold cream covered her sex.
The sweet treat melted beneath his tongue, and so did she, crying out. The pleasure he gave her was so intense it was almost painful. So good it was exactly the right kind of bad. So close and yet so far.
Because she needed more. She was about to beg, but he knew what she needed even before she opened her mouth. He entered her with two fingers, and she went mindless, out of control. She rode the edge of climax as if it were a tsunami on the horizon, ready to roll in, consume her, and drag her under until she was drowning in pleasure.
Then Matt put his hand under her hips, lifted her against his mouth, and the tsunami crashed over her, a huge wave of bliss--and of wonderful, amazing Matt--tumbling through her.
*
Ari was still tied down, her moans and cries of pleasure a symphony in his ears. Beyond control, beyond mere need and desire, Matt reared up, grabbed her hips, and slammed home deep inside her. He'd put protection on when he retrieved the whipped cream, knowing he'd need to be ready, anticipating the total collapse of his willpower.
She was covered in streaks of cream and chocolate, her skin deliciously sticky as they slipped and slid together, her body clenching him hard, amplifying the heat between them to dangerous levels.
He covered her mouth with his, kissing her hard and deep. She tasted sweet and was so damned hot as she came again like rockets going off, the explosion far greater than the excitement of having scarves around her wrists and a blindfold covering her eyes. More vast than the taste of her on his lips and tongue, even as delectable as she was.
It was how she felt around him--like he was meant to be here with her.
Only her. Only him.
He lost himself in the connection, loving how she kept pace with him, crying out as she rolled from one peak to another without stopping, both of them wild. Crazy with need. Overwhelmed by pleasure.
Long after they both finally drifted down, she was still blindfolded and tied, their bodies fused, his sprawled across hers. "Oh my God," she whispered.
"I believe you said that last time." He kissed her ear, her cheek, her lips, her neck. She tasted like whipped cream, chocolate strawberries, and all woman.
"But after what just happened in this bed," she said, a smile in her voice, "it needs to be repeated."
How could he have thought of her as too young, too innocent? She was so unabashed, unashamed. No restrictions, no mind games, just honesty.
"I love that you let me tie you up."
"You'd never hurt me," she said so simply that his heart turned in his chest, beating hard against his rib cage. "I trust you."
He was floored all over again that she believed in him not only to find her brother, but to treat her right. Beneath the weight of her trust, he crumbled. Slipping off her mask, he said, "But you don't know me very well."
She tipped her head up and looked him in the eye, her gaze fierce. "Yes, I do. You're a great father. A great friend. A great son." She smiled a soft, sensual smile. "And a wicked lover."
She might not understand just how deep his scars ran from his childhood, but she was right that he'd already let her in more deeply than he'd ever intended. How could he not when she was so kind, so sweet, so caring, so loyal? Her trust was monumental, and he wanted to earn every ounce of it. He just wasn't sure he could in the long run--not when behind his mask of success and wealth, his darkness still lingered. The fact that he could even be this close to her now was such a gift. One he would appreciate forever, no matter what happened between them in the future. And since tonight was about taking her beyond her pain, he ruthlessly shoved away his fears as he slipped the scarves from her wrists and ankles.
She pushed herself up on her elbows and looked down her body. "I'm a mess."
He licked her breast, her abdomen, her thigh, then headed down to the ties at her ankles. "You're gorgeous." She blushed, as she always did at his compliments, her skin heating against his, her cheeks turning pink. "Hasn't anyone ever told you how perfect you are?"
She wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her to the bathroom for a shower. "My friends think I'm great."
"I mean men, boyfriends, admirers." In the bathroom, he let her slide down until her feet touched the floor and their bodies were flush.
She was quiet for a long moment before she finally said, "It was always better to downplay myself. So I wouldn't be noticed."
Knowing she had to be talking about some of the foster fathers she'd lived with--and the ways they must have tried to hurt her--he barely bit back a curse.
"You don't have to worry about anything now, Ari." He kissed her with everything in him, deeply, sweetly. For now he refused to think about tomorrow or the next day. Too soon, they'd have to return to life as it had been before this trip, when she would become his son's nanny again and he would worry about the consequences of touching her, of wanting her, of hurting her.
But as long as they were on the road together, away from real life, she was his.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Matt hit the End Call button on the steering wheel the following morning. "Mrs. Esterhausen still isn't answering."
"Maybe we should postpone," Ari suggested.
"We're almost there. If she's not home, we'll have lunch and try again. If she is, we'll be polite and go away if she doesn't want to talk." Determination was clear on his face. "You need to know if she's seen Gideon."
Feeling as though he knew her inside and out, she said, "You're right, I do need to know." They'd brought joy to Mrs. Sanchez. She'd welcomed the chance to go through her daughter's things, to remember her all over again. Ari prayed they could do the same for Mrs. Esterhausen.
"Have I mentioned today how brave you are?" Matt kissed her fingers. "Brave and beautiful."
Her heart swelled at his sweet words. How could she have been so lucky as to find him?
Last night, he'd made love to her a second time in the shower with the water beating down on them, washing every inch of her the way he'd kissed every inch earlier in the bed. In the middle of the night, he'd woken her again, pleasuring her until she was a puddle of need. And again, with the morning sun falling across them, his hands on her hips guiding her as she'd ridden them both into oblivion.
I love you.
The words inside her screamed to get out. But though her heart felt close to bursting, the time wasn't right. She didn't want him to think she'd blurted it out simply because she was grateful for his help in finding her brother--or that it was all the hot sex. When she finally told him how deep her feelings ran, she wanted him to know the words came straight from her heart to his.
So she kept the emotion close, savoring it the way she did the feel of his skin on hers and his body inside her.
&n
bsp; The miles rushed by until they were on the street where Mrs. Esterhausen lived. There were no boarded-up windows, no trash blowing in the breeze, yet the neighborhood looked exhausted. Most of the houses were in need of paint and new roofs, and the sidewalks were cracked by overgrown tree roots. In front of the Esterhausen place, the lawn had given way to scrubby tufts of grass and weeds. The white picket fence had grayed and was missing some of its pickets, like an old woman who'd lost her teeth. A rusting Chevy sat on blocks on the far side of the driveway. The shades were pulled, and there was no other car in sight.
He leaned over for a quick kiss meant to bolster her bravery before they both got out of the car. The gate to the front path hung open on a broken hinge, and her chest felt tight knowing that it was probably due to the loss of husband and father. Just as Ari's life had changed when her dad died.
Matt's fingers closed around hers as they walked up the path. The doorbell didn't ring when they pressed the button, so she knocked. For the count of ten, they heard nothing. Then a thump of a door closing came from inside the house, and she knocked one more time.
At long last, the door opened to reveal a dark-haired woman, her face as drawn and exhausted as the neighborhood. "Yeah?" she asked, holding the door with one hand. Her gaze flicked between Ari and Matt. "I'm not interested in whatever you're selling."
"We're not selling anything, Mrs. Esterhausen," Ari told her.
The woman narrowed her eyes warily. "How do you know my name?" She might have been pretty a long time ago, but now her body was too thin, her face cut with deep lines that aged her by ten years.
"My brother, Gideon, served with your husband and--"
"What could you possibly want now?" Her voice turned hard and harsh, almost like a slap across Ari's face. "After all this goddamned time?"
"Ma'am--" Matt began.
Mrs. Esterhausen stabbed a finger at him. "I'm asking her, so you just shut up."
Matt's fingers tightened around hers, and Ari knew he was about to jump in to protect her. But she couldn't let him go off on this poor woman.
Squeezing his hand to show him she was okay, she said, "Please, I'm sorry if we're bothering you. But I've been looking for my brother, and I came here today to ask you if you've ever seen him."
"I saw him. He let my husband die out there. Then he came here expecting me to forgive him."