by Zara Cox
I’d known for a long time that money was no object for the Mortimers but I’d never been the recipient of such cavalier generosity. I wasn’t sure whether to be thrilled to pieces or wonder how often Bryce did this with other women.
‘Ten o’clock in the morning work for you?’
My head moved in consent before my brain caught up. In the next moment, he was crowding me against the glass wall, his face a picture of harnessed arousal as he stared at me.
‘I can’t wait to have you, Savvie. Really, truly, have you. You have no idea how long I’ve waited. But you will. Soon you will.’
He walked away, leaving me weak-kneed and wondering if this desperate path I’d taken was worth putting my heart through such turmoil.
CHAPTER SIX
Savvie
I ARRIVED TEN minutes late the next morning, hating myself a little for needing to appear as if I weren’t dying to be there.
Bryce was waiting in his doorway, just like last time. But this time his expression was less sexy-grumpy and more smouldering sexy. Not that it gave me any relief.
His gaze tied me up in knots for completely different reasons. Reasons that made it difficult to draw a full breath by the time I arrived at his door.
‘Hi.’ I was breathless and nervous like a damn teenager but, truly, even after having him go down on me twice, it wasn’t every day a girl slept with the only person who’d earned ‘best friend’ status in her life. So I was going to give myself a pass.
‘Morning, rosebud.’ He leaned down, brushed his lips over my cheek, then trailed them to the curve of my neck. ‘Hmm, you smell incredible. What’s that perfume?’
A tingle of pleasure eased a layer of nerves. ‘It’s one of mine—Voluttuoso X by Savvie.’
‘Right. That’s the one with the ad where you were lying on a bed of pink roses wearing nothing but petals, right?’
Halfway into the living room, I turned in surprise. ‘You know about my perfume range?’
He kicked the front door shut and grinned. ‘You asked me yesterday whether I kept tabs on you too. Answer’s yes. Besides, a giant kick-ass billboard in Times Square with you on it is kinda hard to miss.’
I wasn’t sure whether to be upset that he’d been in New York the same time as me and never bothered to get in touch or elated that he’d followed my career. I didn’t want to start today on a sour note so I chose the latter.
‘As milestones go, that was pretty special.’
He approached, reached up and curled a strand of my hair around his fingers. ‘I bet it was. I’m proud of you.’
For some absurd reason, a lump grew in my throat, the way it seemed to whenever Bryce complimented me.
For several seconds, he stared at me, then abruptly dropped his hand. ‘Would you like brunch? My chef left a few dishes if you’re hungry.’
I’d been too nervous to eat more than an energy bar after I was done with yoga. The butterflies going crazy in my belly didn’t bode well for my digestive system. ‘No, I already ate, thanks.’
He nodded. ‘Then let me show you around. We didn’t get around to it last time,’ he said a little dryly, before tugging my clutch out of my hands and tossing it on the nearest sofa.
I followed him through to the kitchen that boasted every state-of-the-art appliance suited to his lifestyle.
A large study with two huge bookcases filled with psychological thrillers revealed that he hadn’t stopped devouring his favourite genre. I slotted that information away for possible future reference.
The three guest bedrooms were lavishly decorated in neutral smoky greys and warm taupe. I didn’t need to ask why a bachelor needed four bedrooms because Bryce had once told me that the Mortimer family dynamic was such that any member of the extended family could drop in on another family member and expect to be hosted.
Why that continued to be honoured considering they could barely tolerate each other was a mystery to me. But who was I to question how any family functioned?
My thoughts veered from the turbulent subject of family when Bryce’s hand landed on my waist. Through the thin layer of my flowery knee-length chiffon dress, the heat from his touch seared me.
After a brief tour of his personal gym, we arrived at a set of double doors.
‘And this...is my bedroom,’ he rasped hotly in my ear as his free hand turned the handle and threw the door open. Twice as large as the others, the theme was grey and dark gold, with hints of platinum trimming the furniture and art pieces hanging on the wall.
But what caught and held my attention was the bed. For starters, the headboard was a breathtaking work of art comprised of vine-like intertwined wood and metal that soared all the way to the vaulted ceiling. The mattress was thick and high, the comforter invitingly luxurious.
Beneath my feet, dark gold carpeting muffled my footsteps and, opposite the bed, a large oil painting drew the eye to the jaw-dropping depiction.
‘Is that a Wu Cheong?’
He smiled. ‘You know his work?’
I nodded, bitten by a touch of envy. ‘My investors and I begged him to design something for the launch. He declined.’
‘Ah. Poor you,’ Bryce teased. ‘You should be nicer to people with artistic connections.’
‘Like you, you mean?’
‘Absolutely!’
I turned to berate him but the words dried in my throat when I spotted a familiar stack of black and purple boxes just inside what I assumed to be his dressing room.
‘The stuff arrived?’
‘They did,’ he replied, his gaze intent on my face.
‘And?’
‘And we’ll get to that in a minute. How did your dinner go with the investors?’
‘Better than I’d hoped. I’ve been eager to add a brand of cosmetics to the perfume range. As of last night they were officially at the amber-light stage. If the launch and the season go well, they’ll green-light my proposal for next season.’
Although I was happy to answer his questions about my business, I couldn’t pull my attention from the boxes. Had he looked? Did he have a favourite?
The hand on my waist trailed up and down my ribcage, drawing my attention back to Bryce.
His gaze was riveted on my mouth, sparking that wild anticipation that finally, after all these years, the pleasure of kissing Bryce Mortimer for the first time hovered in the near horizon.
‘Would you like a drink, Savvie?’
Despite my dry throat, I shook my head. ‘No, thanks.’ Now I was here, I wanted nothing to delay what was coming. ‘Want me to help you open the boxes?’ I asked.
‘Oh, I want. Very much,’ he replied gruffly.
There was something so infinitely hot about walking into Bryce’s manly dressing room it made my pussy clench with torrid excitement.
He left me at the large marble-topped centre island and fetched the first of the four oblong boxes. From a drawer he removed a penknife, handed it to me and I slit the edges open.
I smiled as he leaned forward in anticipation. Together we pulled aside the delicate dark purple wrappers and I let him lift the first item from the box.
It was a black playsuit, which consisted mostly of thin silk criss-crossed material held together by delicate purple netting. It was high on the waist and left very little to the imagination—just watching it in Bryce’s hand made me hot all over.
‘Gorgeous,’ he murmured, before glancing back inside the box. ‘Next.’
I lifted a lace body from its wrapping. The colours were reversed on this one, with the purple more prominent. But still it was a frivolous and feminine creation that covered the front and totally revealed the back. Bryce swallowed as he eyed the outfit. Then, eyes a little wild, he returned to the box and with each unveiling his face grew tighter, his breathing a little more erratic.
Halfway through the last bo
x, he looked up at me. ‘You know how fucking hard I get imagining you wearing something you’ve created, just for me?’
I set aside the all-net, completely see-through bodysuit with purple and pink polka dots with shaking hands and tried to breathe through the lust fog engulfing us. If anyone had told me I’d be this turned on unboxing my own stuff, I’d have laughed. ‘Probably not as hot as it makes me.’
He gave a low, husky laugh. ‘We’ll see.’ He nodded at the box. ‘One more and we’ll have to take a break.’
The ‘one more’ was probably in the top three of naughty outfits in the range. The all-leather playsuit was held together by a central gold navel ring from which strips fanned out across the body, covering nothing at all in a blatant game of titillation.
‘Bloody hell. The pictures online in no way do these justice. How is a man supposed to think straight after seeing that?’
‘That’s the point, Bryce,’ I replied, tongue firmly in cheek.
He raked a hand through his hair, his fevered eyes tracking over the outfits scattered across his dressing island. ‘That one first.’ He pointed to a net playsuit with faux-fur trim but his eyes darted to the leather suit.
I grinned. ‘You sure?’
‘Fuck no, I’m not sure,’ he griped.
I took pity on him. ‘How about you let me pick? Wait for me in the bedroom.’
He nodded eagerly. ‘Great. Five minutes, okay?’
I raised an eyebrow. ‘Is there a fire I’m not aware of?’
He skirted the island to where I stood and tugged me close. ‘Damn right there’s a fire. And it’s been raging longer than you know.’
My pulse jumped but I managed to say evenly, ‘Then you best let me get on with it.’
With another heated look, he walked out of the dressing room, leaving me with a sea of lingerie and a thousand questions. Slowly, I dragged my dress off, tugged off my underwear and set them neatly to one side. Deciding to leave the leather playsuit for another time, I chose the polka-dot body and carefully slipped it on. It came with a half-inch velvet choker Bryce hadn’t seen and it gave me a little thrill to add that little accessory to the ensemble.
In the long mirror, I looked past the cellulite and chunky thighs to the impact of the outfit. I would never be a size six, but my heels made my legs look good enough, and with my hair caught up and choker in place, it drew the eye up from my full bust.
Momentary insecurity slammed into me, deflating the air from my lungs. Bryce might seem turned on by me right now, but how long would that last? How would he react when he got a better picture of just how many stretch marks were on my body?
Relax, he’s seen you naked before.
Not fully. Not totally—
‘Savvie, I really need you to come out here.’
I grinned at the tight need and impatience straining his voice even as it fired up my blood, burning away a layer of insecurity. But my heart still slammed into my ribs like a wild thing when I took a deep breath and headed for the bedroom.
In the doorway, I paused and cocked one hip, years of strutting down the runway kicking in despite the nerves eating me alive.
He was poised on the edge of the bed, minus his T-shirt, his hair even more dishevelled, as if he’d been running his fingers through it.
His gaze latched onto my face, then, almost immediately, dropped to my outfit. His breath hissed from between his lips and his hands bunched beside his thighs. Almost rabidly, he devoured every inch of my skin, lingering between my legs and on the nipples pearling in reaction to his blatantly aroused scrutiny.
I had to hand it to him. Bryce knew how to make a woman feel special. Who else had he made feel special in the time we’d been estranged?
Nope, not touching that.
Instead I revelled in the quick glide of his tongue over his lip as his gaze fixed on the velvet choker.
‘Get over here, rosebud,’ he commanded with a definite croak.
‘Ask me nicely, Bryce,’ I countered.
He squeezed his eyes shut for a split second. Then rose and padded on bare feet—at some point he’d discarded his shoes too—to where I stood. He stared at me for a tight little stretch. ‘You seem hell-bent on driving me insane. But I’m not going to rush this. Do you know how long I’ve waited to kiss you, Savvie?’
The air left my lungs in a whoosh at the reminder that, despite all the filthy things we’d done to each other, Bryce and I had never kissed.
Heart racing faster, I shook my head.
Eyes locked squarely on mine, he lifted his hands and cupped my nape. Slowly his right thumb drifted over my lips, as if memorising their texture before he tasted them. ‘Eleven fucking years, I’ve waited to do this,’ he breathed, almost to himself. And the depth of feeling in his voice made my heart twist for a completely different reason.
Dangerous reasons.
‘Bryce...’
‘Shh, rosebud. No talking. Just...’
He lowered his head in torturously slow descent, drawing out the moment until his lips brushed, butterfly soft and fleeting, over mine.
A shiver cascaded through me, vibrating every cell in my body and sparking it to life. I gave the tiniest moan and Bryce lifted his head.
His eyes were hotter, his breathing a touch harsher as he stared at me.
Then, as if the feast was too much, he slanted his lips over mine.
Fever hot. Powerfully arousing. And oh, so brilliantly executed. I sagged against the doorframe for a moment before sheer hunger made me rise on my toes to meet Bryce halfway, fulfilling every last dream of what I had imagined kissing him would be like.
Within one instant and the next I needed more. Bracing my hands on his waist, I leaned higher into the kiss, fused my lips tighter, deeper, as intimately as I could taste him before I opened up, allowed his tongue to glide oh-so-sexily against mine.
We both groaned. Hunger ravaged us whole and eroded any attempt at finesse. Breathing hard, we strained towards each other, devouring each other in a bruising kiss that only fuelled the fire of lust.
Hot slickness between my legs made me grind myself against the thick erection swelling his jeans. My need was enough to propel him back a step, until Bryce was the one now leaning against the doorframe.
It was the perfect position to plaster myself against him, rub my aching nipples against the hot, hard landscape of his chest, while grinding my pelvis against his erection.
The fingers in my hair tightened, the sting a sweet pain that turned me on harder. Drew a thicker moan from me.
Breathing harshly, Bryce tugged me away, the separation of our lips a wet, decadent sound that sent a shudder through me.
‘God. Nothing I imagined came this close, rosebud. Absolutely nothing,’ he confessed thickly.
‘For me neither.’
For some reason, that made him smile. A blinding display of pleasure that made my heart lurch alarmingly while filling me with equal parts of joy and trepidation.
‘Again?’ I asked.
His smile widened and his eyes dropped to my wet lips. ‘God, yes. And again and again.’ With a groan, he sealed his lips against mine.
Still kissing, I dragged him out of the doorway, then gasped when he swung me up into his arms.
Sweet Lord, but I loved it when he did that! I’d challenge any woman to deny they love being swept off their feet.
He laid me down on the bed and followed without breaking the kiss. Then he rolled us with expert ease, until I was draped over him, my thighs braced on either side of his hips.
In prime position to get closer to that hard, delicious prize, I didn’t hesitate. Flicking my tongue brazenly against his, I widened my stance, arched my back and dragged my heated pussy against his engorged cock.
His groan was long and tortured. One hand clamped hard on my bottom, holding me firm and
tight against him as he deepened the kiss even more.
Then abruptly he pulled away, his chest rising and falling in harsh pants. ‘Christ Almighty, Savvie, I’m going to lose my mind if I don’t get inside you now.’
Despite the ragged confession, he didn’t move, just continued to stare at my mouth as if it were the answer to world hunger. And since I loved kissing Bryce, I lowered my head and fused our lips once more while I raised my hips long enough to lower the zip of his jeans. He groaned into my mouth as I freed him, took his thick cock in my hand and drew down on his already hard dick.
He caught hold of my hand and flipped us over again. ‘You won’t do this to me, Savvie. You won’t make me blow before I get inside that beautiful pussy,’ he growled, even as he rubbed the underside of his cock against my cotton-covered clit.
The sensation was sweet hell, driving my nails into his back. ‘You want to fuck me that badly, Bryce?’
He groaned. ‘More than I want my next breath,’ he replied.
‘Then do it. Take this insane ache away.’ My voice was a husky mess but I didn’t care.
Slowly, going against the ravaging urgency consuming us both, he sat back on his heels. Eyes the colour of a dark forest dragged over my body, greedily devouring the pulse racing at my throat, the sinfully prominent points of my large breasts, the twitching of my wide hips.
‘Fuck, you’re so sexy, Savvie,’ he growled.
Tears prickled behind my eyes, the knowledge that my numerous flaws didn’t register with him lifting my spirits to unknown heights. Making my stupid heart fill with that dangerous hope that I needed to claw back to reason. But I couldn’t.
Not with Bryce.
Never with Bryce.
He held more of me than he would ever know. But that beat of insecurity and rejection reared its head again, reminding me that, when it mattered most, I had never been enough for anyone. Not my family. Not Bryce, who’d let me in up to a point but never all the way. Not even my arsehole of an ex-husband, who’d taken pleasure in listing my faults on a daily basis before I’d found the strength to walk away. But out of sight didn’t mean out of mind. And as much as I hated to admit it, some of the mud he’d thrown had stuck.