Her Every Fantasy

by Zara Cox

  Savvie eyed my ringing phone, one eyebrow lifted.

  ‘It’s Graciela,’ I confessed reluctantly.

  Her brow stayed up for another second, then she nodded. ‘I’ll go warm up the shower. Come join me when you’re done,’ she said graciously. I wanted to kiss her.

  What I didn’t want to do was talk to my sister. She’d either be in blame mode or in the other mode I hated even more.

  Control freak mode.

  My sister had developed that streak somewhere after her ninth birthday. Perhaps it was middle-child syndrome. But I suspect it had something to do with the letter she’d received from our parents.

  My letter had broken something inside me. And overnight, something had snapped within her too.

  Gideon, already a remote figure consumed by his own demons, had barely noticed the torment we were going through. But as the last born, I’d endured the brunt of Graciela’s reaction.

  Since then, she’d deluded herself into thinking she could control life just by wielding the reins of any situation she found herself in. More often than not all she did was drive people nuts and alienate those around her. The one and only time I’d tried to point that out to her, we’d had a monster of a row. One whose ghost still drifted through our interactions.

  After the emotionally charged few hours I’d been through, she was the last person I felt like dealing with.

  Reluctantly, I answered...just as she rang off. A little relieved, I sent a quick text.

  Not a good time. I’ll call you later.

  Her reply arrived seconds later.

  You’re avoiding me because you think this is personal. It’s not. Need a quote from you for the feature story for The Sylph, due in the next issue of Mortimer Quarterly. So get over your bloody self and answer your phone! G

  I dismissed the bite of guilt after reading the text.

  Our interactions might start off under some pretext of Mortimer business, but they inevitably veered towards the personal. Towards whys and wherefores and bitterness washed down by vodka shots when done in person.

  I wasn’t down for any of that tonight, even over the phone. Right now, I wanted nothing more than to bury myself in Savvie, inhale that incredible scent concentrated at that sweet juncture between neck and shoulder. And nothing short of the world burning down was going to stop me.

  I typed one last, quick response.

  Still not a great time. Let’s talk tomorrow.

  And then, because I knew she wouldn’t stop until she’d stamped her control all over it by calling me at the stroke of midnight, I added:

  Office hours. Ten a.m. Singapore time.

  She replied with a middle finger emoji that surprisingly made my lips twitch. That twitch widened into a smile of anticipation when I walked into my bedroom and saw the trail of clothes leading to the bathroom.

  Tossing the phone onto the bedside table, I swiftly disrobed, leaving my own trail beside hers as I snagged a condom and headed for the bathroom.

  She was toying with the shower settings, the sound of the powerful jets masking my entrance. It gave me a chance to watch her unobserved.

  The rich abundance of her curls.

  Her beautiful dark skin.

  The elegant grace of her neck and the way she held herself up no matter the circumstances.

  The noble slant of her shoulders.

  The strong line of her spine.

  And perhaps my favourite part of Savvie—her flared hips and gorgeously plump arse.

  It’d been a feature of many wet dreams and would probably fuel many more after I was done playing my part in fulfilling her fantasy.

  After which she would leave.

  I blocked out thoughts of her departure and joined her. Her soft gasp when I slid both arms around her waist made my cock harder, my balls heavier. Unable to resist, I slid my face into the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply.

  ‘You smell fucking amazing.’

  ‘I smell of spray paint and shrimp satay.’

  ‘Like I said...amazing.’

  She laughed, and just like that the tightness eased from my chest.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Bryce

  BEFORE MY HANDS could glide up to cup her perfect breasts, she turned in my arms. ‘Wonder what you smell like,’ she mused, sliding her arms around my neck and rising on tiptoe to drag her nose over my throat.

  I awaited her verdict with a half-smile.

  ‘Smoky aftershave. A touch of spray paint. Angst. And horny. Definite whiff of horniness about you,’ she finished with a teasing bite that made my dick throb.

  ‘You don’t need to smell me to know that. I’ve got the evidence right here.’ I pressed my pelvis into her soft belly and was instantly rewarded with her tightening nipples.

  ‘Hmm.’ One hand slid between us to boldly grasp me while the other plucked the condom from my fingers. ‘So you have.’

  Her eyes square on mine, absorbing my every blink and breath, she pumped me slowly, torturously, and smiled when a deep shudder rolled through me.

  ‘Enjoying yourself, rosebud?’

  She laughed. ‘Immensely. Are you?’

  ‘Maybe. But I’ll be happier inside you.’

  Leaning forward, she boldly licked my lower lip while she continued to pump my ever-throbbing cock. ‘I can make that happen.’

  ‘Soon. Please,’ I groaned when she twisted her wrist and sent stars dancing across my vision.

  Wicked laughter broke from her throat as she ripped the condom open with her teeth and glided it on. ‘I like hearing you beg, Bryce.’

  I swallowed the fierce urge to tell her I would beg a thousand times more if she hurried. Because the condom was fully on and my need was echoed on her face.

  Laughter ceased as I hooked one leg around my waist and penetrated her in a smooth, mind-bending thrust.

  The sensation was beyond sublime. I was aware my head went back, a hiss flying from between my clenched teeth. I withdrew, and thrust again, the clench of her channel unfathomable. ‘God, how do you feel so bloody good?’

  ‘Yoga,’ she gasped as I thrust back in, deep, wanting her to feel every needy inch of me.

  Surprised, I paused, my eyes finding her lust-hazed ones. ‘Seriously?’

  She grinned and nodded.

  My answering grin broke across my face. ‘Promise me you’ll never stop taking yoga.’

  She didn’t answer immediately, probably because that single-worded confession had made me harder still, so my return was a little more strained. Or it could’ve been because she was experiencing a little bit of the delirium coursing through me.

  ‘Keep doing what you’re doing and I promise I won’t.’ She gasped, then followed it with a moan laden with desire, weighted with other things I couldn’t immediately decipher.

  Her nails dug into my shoulders and held on as I thrust inside her.

  Between her cries, the grip of her pussy and the wild desire in her eyes, I knew I was seconds away from exploding.

  I forced myself to slow down, change angles even though the way our bodies were aligned was nothing short of perfection.

  But I was a greedy bastard who wanted more. Who wanted...everything.

  ‘You see that bar above your head?’ I growled in her ear.

  Her heavy lids lifted, clocked the wide bar that at first glance seemed like an innocent towel rack. Except it wasn’t. I’d had the iron bar placed in the shower purely for moments like this and I wasn’t one little bit sorry. Especially not when Savvie’s eyes grew wilder and she licked her lips the longer they stayed on it.

  Deep inside I felt her pussy ripple with excitement. Damn, she was going to kill me if I didn’t get a move on.

  Her eyes met mine. ‘Yeah.’

  I ground my pelvis into hers, and watched her mouth slacken. �
��Can you hold onto it for me?’

  Without question, she lifted her hands and gripped the solid iron bar. With her breasts high, her heavenly curves on display and unashamed arousal blazing in her eyes, I knew I had little time.

  ‘Perfect. Savvie, you look perfect. Hold on tight.’

  She lifted her other leg, wound it around my hips and gripped me hard. ‘More, Bryce. Give me more!’

  Lost, I began pounding her in earnest.

  Electricity blazed through my pelvis and up my spine, robbing my lungs of oxygen. All I could do was grit my teeth and absorb the waves of pleasure rolling over me.

  Much too soon, that blaze of pleasure exploded into an inferno, engulfing both of us in its evangelic fire. When she boldly sought my lips for a kiss, I dropped my head, greedy for another taste. Our tongues stroked and stoked our fires, our bodies growing jerkier with almost transcendent need.

  When she dropped one arm to wrap my neck and draw me closer, I lifted mine to clamp over hers on the bar.

  ‘Yes! Just like that. Oh, God, I’m coming!’ The words were muffled against our fused lips but I felt every one of them resonate through me, pushing me closer to my limit.

  I grunted as the intensity of her orgasm rippled all around my cock.

  Christ, this was something else. Something I suspected I’d never get enough of.

  With one last push into her glorious heat, I embraced nirvana and emptied myself into Savvie. Her breath caught and I knew that the timing of my climax was prolonging hers. Which in turn prolonged mine for a few more blissful seconds.

  The mind-bending effect left me weak-kneed.

  When the hand around my neck crept into my hair and her lips rained soft kisses on my jaw I buried my face in her throat, wishing I could stay there for ever. But I couldn’t.

  For ever was a joke spun from fairy tales.

  The reality was that this thing between us was finite, with a fast-approaching end date.

  That thought haunted me, chasing me out of the shower with more haste than finesse.

  ‘Where’s the fire?’ she half joked as I stepped out.

  I arranged my features into something resembling the thoroughly well-fucked man I should’ve been and threw her a look over my shoulder. ‘The fire’s what will happen when I present you with cold Thai food.’

  I didn’t hang around to see whether she believed me or not. I tossed her a towel and hightailed it to my dressing room.

  Thankfully, she didn’t chase after me. Several breaths later, I’d managed to throw on some clothes and pull myself under control when she entered the bedroom.

  But I wasn’t fooled for one second that the status quo would hold for long. I was approaching a sheer cliff where Savvie was concerned. And I had a feeling I was going over one way or the other.

  Savvie

  ‘I like seeing your dress on my floor.’

  Despite the apprehension prickling my skin, I couldn’t help laughing at Bryce’s unashamed leer. I wasn’t fooled by his attempt to reduce this thing to its basest form, probably to stop from confronting the true depths of what we’d got ourselves into. And since I was a little terrified of examining just what today had done to me, I let him. ‘That’s such a gigolo thing to say.’

  He shrugged, laughing as he picked it up and handed it to me. ‘You got me. I’m shameless.’ Walking past me, he slapped me lightly on the arse and I couldn’t help the giddy little jump in my heart.

  I examined my dress and grimaced. ‘It’s hopelessly wrinkled.’

  ‘We both know you’ll shine like a diamond whatever you wear.’

  I dropped my gaze and shrugged, not feeling any of the pep I normally used to talk myself out of a funk. In two strides, Bryce was in front of me.

  All sign of humour was wiped from his face and his fingers beneath my chin were firm as he redirected my gaze to his. ‘Okay, that fell flatter than I expected. It’s time to tackle a few things, yes?’

  I raised my eyebrows. ‘I thought we were going to avoid certain subjects for a while?’

  His lips firmed. ‘So did I. But I hate seeing that look on your face. And I hate that the bastard is some unspoken ghost between us.’

  Whether I liked it or not, Dan was a wound we needed to excise. So I nodded. ‘As long as you answer a few questions of mine too.’

  His face grew wary for a few seconds, then he nodded. ‘If you insist.’

  ‘I insist.’

  His hand dropped. ‘Fine, bossyboots. Let’s get this show on the road.’

  Grimacing at my wrinkled dress, I tossed it on a nearby seat, strode into his dressing room and returned with a white V-necked T-shirt. ‘Mind if I borrow this?’

  He nodded. ‘Go for it.’

  I pulled it on, looked down and grimaced again. The thin material showed my nipples clearly, clung to my curves and barely covered my behind. ‘I should’ve gone for a black one.’

  Bryce swallowed hard. ‘I disagree. Entirely.’

  I hid a smile as I eyed his naked chest. ‘Fair warning. You ogle me, I ogle you back.’

  His smile widened. ‘I can live with that.’

  By mutual silent agreement we gravitated to the door. I didn’t exactly want to discuss Dan where I’d fucked Bryce and I got the feeling he didn’t want my ex’s shadow lingering in his bedroom.

  The intercom went as we entered the living room.

  ‘Stay put, I’ll grab the food.’

  I settled on one end of the sofa and watched Bryce’s broad back as he walked away. God, he was breathtaking. Years of rugby had honed him into a fine male specimen, one any woman would be thrilled to call her own.

  I squeezed my thighs together as heat pooled between my legs, then further compounded my situation as my nipples peaked, eager to join in the sex-fantasy fun.

  I dragged my gaze from the back that bore nail marks from earlier and crossed my arms as Bryce returned and set the food down on the coffee table.

  ‘White wine okay?’

  I nodded jerkily and he sent me a quizzical look before disappearing into his kitchen. Spotting a throw draped over the sofa, I hastily unfolded it and tossed it over my lower half.

  Bryce returned, frowned when he saw me. ‘Are you cold? I can adjust the temperature.’

  I tucked the cashmere firmer around me. ‘Nah, I’m fine.’

  He expertly uncorked the bottle and poured me a glass, eyeing me the whole time. When I reached out to take it, his gaze shifted to my chest.

  Expecting another smirk or a teasing comeback, I was surprised when he offered neither. Simply dished out the food and sat on the opposite end of the sofa.

  In silence we ate a few mouthfuls, neither of us especially hungry. After my third bite, I set my plate aside and concentrated on the wine, the subject a monstrous anvil between us.

  ‘This...thing between us didn’t start with your ex. You know that, right?’

  I nodded. He was right. If anything Dan had been the straw that broke us.

  ‘Paris.’

  He nodded. ‘Yup.’

  ‘My first catwalk. You hated it.’

  ‘Wrong. I loved it. I just never got the chance to tell you.’

  The hurt of that rejection still burned through my surprise. ‘You had a funny way of showing it. You stood in one corner of the room, surrounded by models who hung onto your every word while you showed them the true meaning of smouldering hotness.’

  He glared at me. ‘I came to see you, after Gideon gave me hell for abandoning the project we were working on, I might add. You gave me one of those silly air-kisses and then spent the rest of the evening avoiding me.’

  ‘Because you looked far from thrilled to be there and I didn’t want us to fight.’

  ‘Maybe I was tired of you paying attention to everyone else but me.’

  ‘What are y
ou talking about? That’s ridiculous.’ When he was around, there was no space for anyone else. He made it impossible to see anything or anyone else. Once upon a time I hated him for that, for shrinking my whole world to a six-foot-three aperture that looked exactly like Bryce Mortimer. But even that resentment had been trampled under the force of my secret crush, leaving behind heart-stopping excitement and pathetic gratitude that he chose to remain in my orbit.

  ‘Is it?’ he asked with a curiously bleak tone. ‘Am I wrong? Wasn’t there distance between us by Paris?’

  I swallowed, accepting some guilt. ‘Your responsibilities were pulling you in one direction and my parents were threatening to disown me if I did the show. I felt like I’d gone from having you and our little cocoon and even my family, broken as it was, to suddenly having only the modelling, and I was a little scared.’

  If anything, Bryce looked even more bleak. ‘And you couldn’t tell me? You know how that makes me feel?’

  I sighed. ‘Okay, I accept Paris was on me. Forgive me?’

  He stared at me for a long moment, lips compressed, but when he exhaled some of the tension left his body. ‘Forgiven. But I disagree about that little cocoon you mentioned. Not after our second year at uni. Can you pinpoint a time when I didn’t have to share you with someone else? Let’s start with that guy—’ he clicked his fingers ‘—Neville. Then it was your manager and your agent, then Dan.’

  ‘Are you serious? You tell me when you didn’t have some size-zero bimbo hanging off your arm, lapping up your every word, telling you how oh-so-brilliant you were? If I wasn’t meant to feel like a third wheel, it was only because I was more like a bloody fourth wheel!’ He started to frown. ‘Don’t you dare give me that look. You know exactly what I’m talking about. You had so many girls falling over themselves to get into your pants that you dated two at once, and discarded them just as quickly as they arrived on the scene!’

  He set his barely touched plate and wine on the coffee table and raked his fingers through his hair. The look he speared me with both electrified and frightened me. It spoke to dark secrets and hanging on by a thread.

  ‘And why the hell did you think that was, rosebud? Why did I discard them on such a regular basis?’ he asked a little too quietly.