Promises

by Aleatha Romig

  A stupid smile floated across my face.

  She said she loved me.

  Fuck, I should have said it then or sooner. The truth was that I was as shocked as anyone. Who knew that Sterling Sparrow was capable of love?

  The scrumptious aroma of something in the air met me as the elevator doors opened to the penthouse, reminding me that I’d left most of my lunch in Araneae’s office. Though I’d considered first going upstairs, a faint flicker of light drew me toward the kitchen.

  A moth to a flame?

  No, I was a bird, a Sparrow.

  And yet as I turned the final corner, I was once again floored by the sight before me—the sight that washed away my earlier concerns and caused my heart to beat faster.

  I’d never admit it to anyone except her, but a spider—no, one spider—could bring this damn bird to his knees.

  Araneae was fucking gorgeous, standing near the table in that damn red dress, her golden hair flowing down her back, her tits heaving as she wordlessly watched me with a bright red smile. I scanned downward. The neckline of the dress showed half globes of her perfect breasts. And then around her waist was an apron—a fucking 1950’s apron—and lower still her shapely legs were covered in silk and her feet were in those sky-high heels.

  Holy fuck.

  The array of dirty thoughts going through my head right now were all a result of how incredibly sexy she looked. This woman who ran Sinful Threads like a Fortune 500 CEO, who told off Pauline McFadden as well as an FBI agent, was doing all kinds of things to me dressed as a demure, sexy housewife. My cock was growing by the second.

  As I stalked toward her, I fought back the smile that itched to come to my lips, doing my best to be the predator and not the prey because that was what she did to me. I had said over and over that she belonged to me. It was fair to mention that it worked both ways. I was absolutely captive under this beautiful, strong, and intelligent woman’s spell.

  Araneae’s pert painted lips opened with a gasp as my hand splayed over her lower back, pulling her sexy curves toward me, not stopping until my growing erection probed against her stomach and her tits smashed against my chest.

  This woman in my arms was all that I wanted in this damn world.

  Her light-chocolate eyes sparkled with the candles’ reflection as she stared up at me.

  “You’re fucking stunning.” It was an understatement if ever I’d said one.

  Her cheeks rose. “You’re kind of handsome yourself.”

  In one fell swoop I lifted her ass to the end of the breakfast bar, and tugging her legs apart, I wedged myself closer.

  “Whoa, Sterling. I have dinner waiting,” she said with a playful laugh to her voice.

  I lifted an eyebrow. “And I intend to eat.” I inched the hem of her dress higher, exposing the tops of the sexy-as-fuck stockings. Tilting my head, I asked in my deepest tone, “Tell me what I’ll find under here.”

  Her red painted lip, the same color as the dress, disappeared for a moment before her tongue darted out and licked. “S-Sterling...”

  I walked my fingers higher. “That’s not an answer, sunshine.”

  With a sweep of my hand, I cleared the counter behind her, the contents moving back as I splayed my fingers over the exposed skin between her breasts and pushed her until her back was flat against the cool granite counter, her blonde hair spilling around her in a halo framing her gorgeous face as her eyes were opened wide.

  “Don’t move, I want you just like this, and I need my hands for something else.”

  “Oh...Sterling...”

  I never gave my name much thought. It was what it was, a name—one written on letterhead and on the top of tall buildings. However, each time it came in a breathy whisper from her lips, it was like fucking Viagra.

  A jolt of life to my dick.

  I lifted each of her feet, until the tall heels were on the counter and I had the optimal view of the answer to my question, her perfect pink uncovered pussy.

  My lips curled. “Good girl.”

  Pulling her hips toward me, the tall heels slid on the hard surface.

  She was fucking perfect as her breaths and whimpers filled the kitchen. It was as my tongue found her folds that she cried out, her shapely legs wrapping around my shoulders.

  “Oh, Sterling...”

  Her hands flailed as she reached for anything to give her leverage.

  Fuck no.

  This was my show. She may have set it up, but damn, I couldn’t resist taking it over.

  My licks became nips, small bites to her inner thighs, as I held her in place. Her hips bucked as I let my fingers join the assault. Winding her tighter and tighter, I worked her to the edge and eased her back, again and again, until I needed a release as much as Araneae.

  Pulling back, our eyes met. “What happens to good girls?”

  Her breasts heaved as she sat forward or her elbows. “Don’t be an asshole, Sterling.”

  My grin returned as I offered her my hand and helped her to the floor. Turning her toward the bar, I again pushed her upper body toward the counter, her back bent, tits flattened, and her legs stretched as she moved to her toes in those sexy red shoes.

  She peered back at me over her shoulder. “What are you going to do?”

  I lifted the skirt of the dress just as I’d done on the plane and ran my hand over her shapely ass, dipping my fingers in her wetness and then again rubbing my palm over her warming skin.

  I leaned over her, my lips near her ear as I whispered menacingly, “Your choice, sunshine. You shouldn’t have gone in that room alone.”

  “I-I...”

  Standing straight, I shook off my suit jacket, unbuckled my belt, and undid my fly, letting my hardened cock spring free. Damn, I was in agony. Blue balls and a weeping dick had to be the worst punishment ever, yet I had a point to prove.

  Her lip again disappeared behind her teeth. “I-I want to come.”

  “Then what does that mean?”

  She laid her cheek against the granite as her arms came to a rest on either side of her head. “Fucking punish me, as long as I get to come.”

  Damn, I’d say it again. Araneae was the ideal woman.

  Unfastening each of my cuff links, I let her wait and contemplate the decision she’d made. Her feet shifted in anticipation as I rolled up my sleeves, yet she remained in place. All at once, the kitchen filled with the sound of her shriek mixed with the slap of my palm contacting her ass. I leaned back to admire the perfect representation of my hand, her skin raising and reddening as my palm tingled. Another to the other side and another. As her ass grew redder, my desire for pleasure overruled the need to enforce my rules.

  Pulling her hips toward me and gripping my hardened cock, I found my way home.

  “Sterling!”

  “You’re so damn wet.” And tight. Her pussy was strangling me and it was amazing.

  Araneae hummed as she pushed back, taking me completely.

  Easing in and out, I leaned over her again. Planting a kiss to her neck, I teased, “You’re fucking soaked. I think you may have liked that punishment too much.”

  She craned her neck backward as a smile blossomed across her face from her lips to her sparkling velvet eyes. “If I never admit that, you’ll keep doing it.”

  Fucking perfect woman—made for me.

  With each thrust, Araneae pushed back, her body convulsing and pulsating around me. Reaching forward I found her clit. The kitchen filled with her moans as we wound one another higher. The sounds weren’t only from her; we were both making noises, primal and savage. The need to not only find pleasure, but please the other one overwhelmed me as a fog of our connection grew stronger, swirling in a cyclone around us.

  It wasn’t until we both found our release that I stilled, our bodies still connected, and laid my upper body over hers. With my heart beating too fast, I teased a bit of her long hair away from her beautiful face. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too. And I like saying it.
”

  I kissed her lips. “I like showing it.”

  She wiggled beneath me. “I like that, too.”

  As we finally broke our union, I went to the sink and dampened a paper towel. Bringing it back, I tended to Araneae. Once I was done, I looked around the kitchen and asked, “What did Lorna make us?”

  After standing and smoothing the skirt of her dress back into place, Araneae’s hands landed on my shoulders and she looked me in the eye. “Nothing.”

  What?

  “But I can smell—”

  “I made it. I came home early and convinced Lorna to let me cook. And now, after your little welcome home, I’m famished.”

  “Little?”

  She laughed. “Hardly.”

  I lowered my forehead to hers. “I doubt whatever it is will be as good as what I just ate...” I let the smile spread over my face as Araneae’s cheeks turned pink. “...but I can’t wait to try it. Is it ready?”

  Leaning back, she lifted herself to her tiptoes and kissed my cheek. With veiled eyes, she then said the words I’d never thought I’d hear from her.

  “Yes, Mr. Sparrow.”

  Araneae

  Sterling’s strong arms came to the railing as the warmth of his body radiated behind me, heating my sundress-covered back. Sighing against my neck, his prickly chin nuzzled against my shoulder while the aroma of sunscreen mixed with cologne replaced the fresh scent of water. Before us was the never-ending blue of Lake Michigan, the surface sparkling like diamonds in the sun as the yacht cruised through the waves, taking us back south to Chicago.

  I leaned back against his solid chest, taking in the beauty as the wind blew my hair and the light fabric of the sundress covering my bikini.

  “You’re quiet. What are you thinking?” he asked, his words tickling my neck.

  Instead of answering, I shrugged.

  “I’ll tell you what I’m thinking,” he offered.

  Spinning within the cage of his arms, I wrapped mine around his bare, toned torso. Looking up, I replaced my view of the blue waters with the darkest brown eyes. “What are you thinking?”

  “That next time we have a yacht, it has fewer crew members.”

  My sun-kissed cheeks rose as my head shook. “I’m very disappointed in my tan lines. I was promised there’d be none.”

  Leaning away, he reached behind my neck to where my bikini top was tied and tugged at the knot. “Me too.”

  I didn’t protest as the knot came loose, knowing that Sterling wouldn’t expose me if others were around. That was the whole reason our nakedness had not included the multiple decks of this giant yacht; instead, it was limited to our private cabin, more specifically the master suite. My smile turned sultry as under the sundress, the top of my bikini fell, now only secured around by a string behind my back.

  “Make that no crew,” he said.

  “I like that. Can it be a sailboat?”

  “If you want a sailboat, we’ll have a sailboat.”

  “Do you know how to sail?”

  He ran his finger over my cheek. “Have you found anything I can’t do?”

  “Not yet. I’ll keep trying.” I looked up at his chiseled features as he stared beyond me to the water. “That sailboat...” I said, “...something small for just the two of us.”

  This yacht was bigger than I imagined, like everything with Sterling Sparrow—his plane, his cabin, his apartment, and now a chartered yacht. At nearly a hundred feet in length, the main level of the cabin was larger than my apartment in Boulder—two of my apartments. At times it was easy to forget that we’d cruised from Chicago to Mackinac. While the captain said it could be done quicker, Sterling chose to let us enjoy the solitude that comes with each other and a staff of twelve.

  Yes, twelve.

  Sterling’s expression darkened. “You know it can’t be only us.”

  I nodded. Even on this boat, we had members of his security—part of those twelve—people watching our backs, making sure that we were protected. “I hate that we get a vacation, but others have to work.”

  “It’s the way the world works.”

  “Do you ever get tired of the constant surveillance?” I asked, not for a friend.

  “I don’t think about it, other than to know it’s there, and then there are places where they’re less obtrusive.”

  “Like home.”

  He nodded. “I love hearing you call it that.” He lifted my chin. “Have you enjoyed yourself and our getaway?”

  “Have I enjoyed five uninterrupted days of sun and sex?”

  “Have you?” he asked, his grin growing as his dark eyes gleamed.

  I lifted my arms to his broad shoulders. “Yes, Mr. Sparrow.”

  “You know that every time you say that, I get hard?”

  “I think the answer to that would be the same.” Yes, Mr. Sparrow. I turned back toward the water. “And Mackinac Island.” I laid my hand over his on the rail. “It was fun to be regular people.”

  “Sunshine, there was security.”

  “Don’t tell me that. Let me think that for one day we were free.”

  His chest rumbled with laughter. “Let’s just say that your change in our plans wasn’t as enjoyable for some.”

  Smiling, I shook my head and thought back to the day. I hadn’t even suspected that we were being watched. I’d thought it was the only time we’d been alone, alone in a crowd. The yacht had stopped just beyond the unique island where we were met by a smaller vessel that after cruising around the island, docked at a private marina.

  * * *

  Three days earlier~

  * * *

  Mackinac Island was like stepping back in time. With no cars or motorized vehicles—other than fire engines—it was truly a memorable experience. The only choices for transportation were horses or bicycles. I’d heard of this island, but seeing it was unexpected and exciting.

  With my hand in Sterling’s, we walked the sidewalks around the historic town, stopped in shops, and ate amazing fudge. We toured Fort Mackinac. In a horse-drawn carriage we rode up a hill to the massive front porch of the Grand Hotel where a table was waiting inside for our dinner. The green-striped chairs and elegantly dressed waitstaff were like nothing I’d ever seen—classic, not the glitz and glamour of Chicago or New York.

  After dinner, as we were headed back to the marina, I tugged on Sterling’s hand. “Are we on a schedule?” I asked.

  “No, next on the agenda is getting you back to the cabin of the yacht and making love to you under the lights of Mackinac Bridge.”

  It did something to me when Sterling used the words make love—a warm, fuzzy feeling that buzzed through my circulation, tingling my skin and twisting my core. It wasn’t the same adrenaline rush as when he said he wanted to fuck. That was intense, an electric charge to my lady parts, such as the highest setting on the vibrator Sterling had described prior to our first date, the one that so far we’d only played with in the privacy of our bedroom.

  Both descriptors brought a smile to my face. That was who Sterling Sparrow was—a man who could make me want whichever side of sex he offered and apparently a decadent toy or two.

  For the record, the vibrating butt plug was still a solid no.

  Warmth filled my cheeks as I contemplated his plans: the gentle sway of the yacht, the lights of the famous suspension bridge out the window, and Sterling monopolizing my every thought as he brought pleasure to my body. “I like the sound of that,” I said.

  He stopped walking and looked down at me. “I’m hearing some hesitation.”

  “Not about your plan. It’s that...I don’t know if you’ll want to do what I want to do first.”

  “Sunshine, you’ll never know if you don’t ask.”

  I leaned my head toward a bicycle rental shop.

  Sterling’s eyes grew wide. “Bikes? You want to ride bikes?”

  “One bike,” I corrected, dropping his hand and pointing at a bicycle with two seats, one behind the other. When I looked ba
ck to him, I saw the wheels turning in his head. “You can say no.”

  His chest inflated as he took a deep breath. “I’m just a little worried you won’t keep up your end of the bargain and I’ll end up pedaling us both—”

  “All the way around the island,” I interrupted with a smile. “I heard that family next to us in the restaurant talking about it.”

  A young man from the shop came out. “Can I help you folks?”

  Not waiting for Sterling, I asked, “How long does it take to ride all the way around the island on a bike for two?”

  The young man shrugged and scanned Sterling. “It’s 8.2 miles. With him pedaling, he can probably do it in under an hour, but if you stop, it takes longer.”

  Well, that seemed like an obvious caveat.

  I turned to Sterling and tilted my head, silently making my plea.

  With a sigh, he reached for his wallet. “How much for the tandem?”

  Yes, that was what the bicycle-built-for-two was called—a tandem.

  For the next two hours we rode around the island on the paved M-185—the only state highway in the country that bans cars. While the island was beautiful, my view of Sterling was sometimes hard to resist. We weren’t as close as we’d been on the ATV, yet with his broad shoulders and ass right in front of me, more than once my thoughts slipped to the next item on our agenda.

  As we biked, we were sometimes alone while other times we were surrounded by people—couples and families. We did as the young man had said and stopped to see some of the sights we otherwise would have missed, including bluffs overlooking the water and natural formations like Arch Rock. As the ride progressed, I was very thankful for the enlarged seat, and I did pedal but not quite as much as Sterling.

  * * *

  Back to present~

  * * *

  “So because of me, some poor bodyguard had to ride a bike.”

  Sterling scoffed. “Two actually. I told Patrick about it, and he said he was glad to still be in Chicago.”

  I shook my head. “I liked not knowing that they were there.” I turned back to him, my back against the rail. “You asked what I was thinking earlier. I have a strange feeling. I think I’m afraid to go back to Chicago.”