Opal Carew

by Twin Fantasies

  His heart swelled at the reminder that she carried his baby. He hugged her tightly against him.

  “It’ll never happen, sweetheart. There’s nothing you could ever do that would stop me from loving you.”

  Even if she didn’t love him back.

  JENNA WATCHED JAKE drive away. She wrapped her arms around herself, loving the feel of his fleecy robe around her, loving the scent of him enveloping her.

  Still, she was disturbed by the conversation they’d just had.

  Jake had told her he loved her. She opened the refrigerator and pulled out the orange juice, then poured herself a glass. In fact, remembering back, he had told her that before, the night before the rehearsal dinner, but it hadn’t sunk in because at the time she’d thought he was Ryan.

  My God, Jake loves me. How could that be? He had known her for only two days when he’d said it. Could he really have fallen in love with her so quickly? It had taken Ryan eight months to utter the words.

  She watched two blue jays dipping into the birdbath out front, throwing the water over their backs and flapping their wings, splashing water every which way.

  She knew Jake had brought her here to convince her to marry him, but she thought it was only because she was going to bear his child. Now, Jake said he loved her.

  It was all so confusing. What did she really know about love? What did Ryan and Jake know about love?

  Ryan said he loved her, but if it was true, why did he avoid being with her?

  She dragged her finger along the glass windowpane.

  Jake said he loved her, and she was starting to fall in love with him, too. Then he had shut her out. He’d said he had something on his mind, but that sounded more like Ryan than the Jake she thought she knew.

  Sam wandered into the kitchen and peered at Jenna. She picked up the cat and cuddled her close.

  Maybe he’d just convinced himself he loved her because of the baby and now he’d drift away, too.

  AFTER A QUIET dinner that evening, Jake invited her to play video games with him in his den. He had a great setup, with two networked computers, high-resolution monitors, and state-of-the-art CPUs for game play. She preferred games of skill to role-playing games so they played a new online golf game. After one game of eighteen holes, she decided to call it a night.

  They had spent the whole evening together but at different desks with virtually no real interaction between them. Jenna climbed into bed feeling lonely.

  She had started to convince herself that she had real feelings for Jake, but it was far more likely that she saw in Jake what she wanted to see in Ryan.

  She loved Ryan. Sure, they had a few problems to work out, but when she was with him, she never doubted his feelings for her. It was only when he was away from her. If only he wasn’t away so often. If only he wasn’t away now.

  In fact, it wasn’t he who was away, it was she.

  She glanced at the silver phone in its stand on her bedside table. Maybe Ryan wasn’t here, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t connect. She pushed herself up in bed and plumped up two pillows behind her, then picked up the phone and dialed Ryan’s number. She glanced at the clock. Eleven thirty. It was a little late—Ryan had probably turned in about an hour ago—but she hoped he wouldn’t mind.

  It rang three times. Four.

  “Hello?”

  At the sound of Ryan’s voice, hoarse from sleep, the tremors of uneasiness inside her slipped away.

  “Ryan. It’s—”

  “Jenna.” His voice sharpened. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, I . . .” She paused, overwhelmed with feelings. The concern in his voice, the fierce protectiveness emanating from him, made her feel safe and loved. It was a wonderful feeling and one she knew came from a deep relationship built over time. One of trust and mutual respect. And love.

  “Jenna? Are you still there?”

  She realized her mind had wandered.

  “I . . . just wanted to hear your voice.” A tear slipped from her eye.

  “Sweetheart, are you sure everything’s okay?”

  “I miss you, that’s all.”

  “Honey, I miss you, too. You know, you can come home anytime you want. You don’t have to stay—”

  “No.” She shook her head, trying to convince herself as much as Ryan. “I promised I’d give Jake a month.”

  “But, if you’re unhappy . . .”

  “I’m not unhappy . . .” She snuffled, belying her words. “It’s just hormones. Jake’s been wonderful. He’s made me feel right at home. He’s been a real sweetheart.”

  Silence on the other end made her sorry for the words.

  “I just mean . . .” She wasn’t sure what she meant anymore.

  “Yeah.”

  She could imagine the tight set of his face and the frown compressing his lips. He must hate having her so far away, leaving him no opportunity to influence her decision. That would make him feel powerless and he was a man used to exerting control over his environment.

  “But, Ryan, I’m calling you.” She filled her voice with warmth. “Because I miss you.”

  “Yeah.” This time, the word came out as a smile.

  Wistfully, she remembered his smile, remembered kissing those full, sexy lips of his, remembered the firm pressure against hers as he held her in his arms. Her hormones flipped into high gear.

  “You know, I’m just sitting here in my bed . . . all alone . . .” She trailed off, waiting to see if he would take the bait.

  “Really? What are you wearing?”

  Nothing. The word almost slipped from her mouth, but that was way too cliché. She wondered if he was up for something a little more exciting.

  “I’m wearing a skimpy little harem costume—you know, with the bra that barely covers anything and a skirt that sits well below my navel.”

  “Hmm. I like that.”

  She smiled.

  “The swell of my breasts is pushing against the tight velvet fabric. You are a wealthy sheik and you acquired me at the casbah today.”

  “You mean the slave market?”

  She grinned. Attention to detail was so typical of Ryan, but during phone sex?

  “Sure. Now you’ve taken me to your room.”

  “You mean tent?”

  She plucked at the sheets. “Ryan, do you want to be accurate, or sexy?”

  “Right. We’re in my room. Are you tied up?”

  “Umm. Yes, my hands are bound.”

  She remained silent for a moment, but he said nothing, clearly waiting for her to continue.

  “I’m just standing here, waiting to see what you’ll do to me,” she prompted.

  “Ahh. I look at you, my eyes raking over your body, settling on your shapely breasts.”

  Her nipples tightened at his words, as she imagined him looking at her, wanting her. Her hand slid over one hard bud, need twining through her.

  “I step toward you,” he said.

  “And I step back.” She could feel it, the excitement of a handsome sheik—her Ryan—closing in on her, his coal black eyes boring into her. Heat sizzled through her.

  “I grab you and drag you into my arms.”

  She almost gasped at the image.

  “I kiss you. Long and hard,” he continued.

  “Mmm.” The sound slipped from her as she imagined his strong arms around her, forcing from her what she wanted to give him but couldn’t. Not as a slave. Not with the physical distance between them.

  “You like it, I can tell,” he murmured.

  Her fingers stroked lightly over one nipple, then the other. They pushed up, the soft cotton of her nightgown conforming to the pebbled outlines.

  “Yes, but I don’t want you to know, so I resist,” she responded.

  “But as I kiss you harder, you succumb and kiss me back.”

  “Oh, yes.” She ran her fingers over her lips, feeling the tingle as she imagined his mouth moving on hers.

  God, she wanted him. If only he was here in the
room with her. She would tear off her clothes and throw herself at him. She wanted to see him. To strip off his clothes and touch him.

  “I drag my hand down your hard, strong chest. I feel your rippling muscles under my fingertips. You are my master and I want to deny you, but I can’t help myself. I want you.”

  She could hear his accelerated breathing on the other end of the line.

  “My hand slips over your hard stomach, then inside your pants and . . .” She paused, imagining her fingers touching his hard cock, then sliding over it.

  “Ohhhh,” she moaned.

  “Jenna?”

  “It’s so big and hard.”

  At the awe in Jenna’s voice, Ryan felt his erection push painfully at his jeans. He stroked his hand over it, wishing it was Jenna’s sweet, delicate hand.

  “I pull it out and stroke it gently,” she continued.

  He lowered his zipper. His cock pushed free, hard as a rock. This wasn’t going to last.

  “Hey, I thought you were tied up.” He imagined her in the flimsy little costume she’d described, her breasts pushing out the top, her torso naked to her hips, her legs peeking from the sheer fabric of her skirt.

  “Oh, yeah. I’m not now,” she said.

  “But I want you to be,” he responded in a low, sexy growl. “You snatch your hand away because you realize you’re being drawn into the passion and you refuse to succumb. I push you onto the bed and tie you up, your arms and legs spread wide.”

  “Oh, yes. I mean . . . Oh, no. Please let me free.”

  Her words sent need thundering through him.

  “No, slave. You’re mine and I plan to prove it to you.”

  He imagined her, spread-eagled on his bed, staring up at him with wide, passion-filled eyes. He would prove to her she was his in every way. His heart swelled as he realized she was giving him this opportunity to do just that. That meant he still had a real chance.

  “What are you doing now?” she asked.

  “I’m looking at you. You’re breathing hard, so I’m watching the rise and fall of your breasts.” He could hear her accelerated breathing. “You’ve been struggling, so the sheer fabric of your skirt has fallen back. Your legs are totally bare.”

  “Is that all that’s bare?” she asked, her tone sultry.

  “As you squirm, I can see the crotch of your panties.”

  Jenna felt the crotch of her panties becoming wet.

  “Are you still just staring at me?”

  “No,” he murmured, his voice like hot silk wisping in her ear. “Now I’m sitting on the bed beside you, my leg brushing against your rib cage. I stroke your cheek . . .”

  A quiver raced through her at the thought of his gentle touch, a contrast from the domineering persona he played. That was how this slave girl knew he really loved her, this forceful sheik of hers, even if she didn’t acknowledge it. That’s how she knew, deep down, she was safe with him.

  “I continue down your neck then . . . over the swell of your breast.”

  Her fingers followed the path he described, then she cupped her right breast.

  “The bra opens at the front,” she pointed out.

  “So it does. My finger slips under the clasp. I squeeze.”

  “I turn my head away.”

  “Oh, yeah. Your bra just popped open. I can see your naked breasts. Your nipples are hard. Standing straight up.”

  “Yes.” She found the hem of her nightshirt and pushed it out of the way. Her finger toyed with first one nipple, then the other, sending tingles shimmering through her body.

  “I stare at them, mesmerized by their beauty.”

  She drew in a deep breath, immensely turned on by the wonder in his voice, by the reminder that he loved looking at her body.

  “I stroke them, covering them with my hands. They are so soft and warm.”

  “I love the feel of your hands on me.” Oh, how she wished his hands were really on her.

  “I lick your left nipple.”

  “Oh, yes.” She licked her fingers, then slid them over her left nipple. “Oh, I like that, but I’m trying not to show it.”

  “But I can tell. Your face is flushed. Your breathing is fast. I lick the other nipple, then suck it into my mouth.”

  “Mmmmm.” She squeezed and plucked her hard nub, wishing she really filled his hot, wet mouth.

  “It’s so hard in my mouth.”

  “And is that the only thing that’s hard? Are you hard?” she asked.

  “Oh, God, yes, I’m hard. I stand up and drop my pants, showing you what you have to look forward to.”

  She imagined him standing before her, his long, rigid cock twitching, aching to drive into her.

  “Oh, it’s so big.”

  “And all for you. Soon, I’m going to show you what it feels like to have it thrust inside you.”

  Her vagina clenched tightly around nothing. A fierce ache shot through her. Her hand traveled down to her panties, then slid inside and stroked over her wet slit.

  “When?”

  “Soon. Very soon.”

  “Are you stroking it now?”

  “I wrap my fingers around it and stroke it a couple of times, to show it off to you.”

  She could imagine his hand stroking up and down on it. In real life, she was sure he was doing just that. Because he wanted her, and that thought excited her even more.

  “Your stroking has made me wet. Oh, so wet.”

  Ryan groaned as he imagined Jenna, not a slave girl on his bed, but the real Jenna, lying on a bed and thinking of him, growing wet because of his words and the images he evoked. He stroked his throbbing cock, so close to release.

  “I’m impatient to see your wet pussy, so I tear off your skirt. Your panties, too. Now you’re lying completely naked.”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “My fingers slide between your legs and tease over you.” He laughed. “Yes, you are wet. I can feel it.”

  “Oh.”

  “Can you feel me feeling you, Jenna?” he murmured.

  Yes, she could. Jenna could feel his strong finger sliding over her soft, wet flesh.

  “I’m pushing inside you now.”

  “Oh, yes.” Her eyelids fell closed as she pushed her own fingers inside.

  “My thumb strokes over your clit.”

  She stroked over her clit.

  “Can you feel that, my love?”

  She writhed on the bed.

  “Oh. Yes.” Her clipped words told Ryan she felt what he described.

  Man, he knew she was using her own fingers to slide inside herself and the thought of her touching herself almost sent him to the brink. He had to hold off, to bring her there, too.

  “My tongue is touching your clit now.”

  “Oh, yes, your tongue.”

  “You’re getting close.”

  He wasn’t kidding. Heat surged through Jenna as she imagined his tongue dancing on her clit. She pushed two more fingers inside herself while her thumb flicked over her clit, acting as his tongue.

  “What about your cock? Is it still hard?”

  “Hard. And long.”

  “Ohhh . . .”

  Ryan tightened his hand around his rod as he pumped.

  “I’m climbing over you now.”

  “Yeah?” Her short, whimpered word sounded so needy.

  “I’m pressing it against you—”

  “Ohhh . . .”

  “. . . and . . . Oh, baby, I’m thrusting forward.”

  “Oh, yes. Drive it into me.”

  “I’m driving it into you.”

  “Oh, God, I’m . . . I’m . . .” Her panting, then gasps, swirled into his ear and his breath caught. “I’m coming,” she wailed between moans.

  He pumped two more times and spewed, his hand clamping around the shaft as the hot liquid spurted onto his chest. Her sweet moans serenaded him through his intense climax.

  Jenna arched and moaned as she rode the glittering orgasm, imagining Ryan’s face contorted in
pleasure as he pumped into her.

  She could hear his breathing on the other end of the line. Slowing. She sighed against her pillow.

  “I’ve released your bonds and now I’m wrapping my arms around you and cuddling you close.”

  She could almost feel the warmth of his arms around her and his strong, broad chest against her cheek.

  “Mmmm, and I’m cuddling you back.”

  “No resistance?”

  “Nope. You’ve won me over.”

  RYAN HUNG UP the phone. Maybe he had won Jenna over . . . tonight, but Jake had the advantage of proximity. Jenna had a strong interest in sex at the best of times. Now pregnant, with her hormones raging . . . With Jake in the same house, would she succumb to desire and go to him? Had she already?

  Ryan raked his hand through his hair and glanced at the clock beside the bed. Twelve forty-eight. He yawned. He changed the alarm to eight o’clock to give himself an extra hour of sleep. He’d been working late every night, grabbing dinner at a restaurant on the way home, then dropping into bed as soon as he got there. He needed to keep busy. Not for the good of the business. For the good of his sanity. He had to keep his mind off Jenna and how much he missed her.

  And feared losing her.

  He picked up the phone again, realizing he hadn’t checked his messages that evening. The interrupted pattern of the dial tone told him there were messages waiting. He dialed star-ninety-eight and then typed in his password code at the prompt. Two messages. He pressed one to listen to them.

  “Hello, Ryan, this is Hannah.” The voice of his assistant reminded him about a meeting at ten tomorrow morning.

  He deleted the message and waited for the next.

  “Hello, Mr. Leigh, this is Dr. Morgan’s office.”

  At the pleasant female voice, Ryan pushed himself forward, his gut tensing. He and Jenna had gone to Dr. Morgan together when she’d had some tests to ensure the pregnancy was going well. Jenna had authorized their office to contact Ryan while she was away in case there were any problems with her tests or if they needed her to return to the office.

  “Would you please call the office tomorrow at your earliest convenience? The number is . . .”

  CHAPTER 13