Deluxe Cinderella Chronicles 3 Story Box Set

by Lisa Renee Jones

  But that didn’t stop her from wanting. From wishing.

  She had one week from today to find peace with her upcoming marriage. One week to come to terms with a life that would be happy in all ways but one. There would be no passion. No big ‘O’.

  It was a reality she thought she had dealt with. Acceptance had been complete when that ring had been slipped on her finger. She’d seen what a relationship that consumed from the inside out did to a person. It took control and became everything you were. The need to be with the person, to feel their touch, to taste that unique flavor of shared desire.

  It was addictive.

  And painful.

  When David had proposed, her answer had been immediate. He was everything a man was supposed to be to a woman. Dependable, handsome, a good businessman. He was even her father’s protégé, working for the family law firm. And of course, her father thought David walked on water. Everything was great. Wonderful. Terrific. Life without great sex wouldn’t be so bad.

  She’d get a new vibrator and find a good hiding place. The old one was getting worn out. It would be a wedding gift from her to her.

  Kelly, Samantha’s best friend, elbowed her. “Are you ready for some football,” she sang the age-old theme song, and then pointed one long pink-tipped finger toward the doorway. “Looks like we have several of the UT players here tonight.”

  Samantha blinked, and eyed the three big linebacker-looking guys wearing jerseys who had just made an entrance. “You mean those kids? They are too young and too big for me. Anyone who looks like they might squash me is a definitive no. Besides, how do you know they are UT players, not fans?”

  “Unlike you, I watch football. Middle guy is Matt Turner. Made some big plays today.” She nudged Samantha. “Wouldn’t mind if he made a few more on me. Besides, he’s twenty-two. I’m only three years older. He’s not too young or too big in my book.”

  Samantha reached for her strawberry daiquiri, and blew a wayward strand of blonde hair from her eye. “I guess. Not what I would go for.”

  Kelly’s big brown eyes were fixed on the football guy. “Right. You like men like David.”

  Her words surprised Samantha. Kelly didn’t like David but rarely made it so obvious. Alcohol, however, always made Kelly a bit more vocal. Samantha turned a hard stare on her. “What does that mean?”

  Kelly made a dramatic flip of her long, sandy-brown hair, and fixed Samantha in a knowing look. “Oh pleazzzzz. We both know David doesn’t do it for you. It’s your father who has a hard-on for him.”

  There were some things a bride-to-be just didn’t admit. Not even to her best friend. “David is very good to me.”

  “How many drinks have you had?” Kelly laughed as she asked the question.

  “Not enough to take your attitude tonight,” she said, only half-joking. To make her point she took another long sip of her straw.

  Melinda, a Cher looka-like, minus the bad clothes, grabbed Kelly’s arm. “Yum if I ever saw it. Football players at five o’clock. “

  Samantha rolled her eyes. “What is it with you guys and jocks? I’ve never understood your obsession.”

  Melinda grinned. “Endurance baby. Endurance.” She eyed Kelly. “Let’s go stake our claim before someone else does.”

  Kelly’s expression said she wanted to. But like a good best friend and bridesmaid she turned to Samantha, a question in her eyes. Samantha’s other two friends, Tina and Ellen, were already on the dance floor . Before Kelly could speak, Samantha waved her on. “Go. Get some jock action. I’ll be fine.”

  Kelly studied Samantha for a moment. “Be back soon.”

  “I doubt it,” Samantha laughed.

  Leaning toward her, Kelly put her lips next to Samantha’s ear. “Does he make you feel what Eric did?” she whispered. “Does he make you hot, and hungry, and begging for more?”

  Samantha stiffened at the sound of his name, and opened her mouth to respond not even sure what she was going to say. Before she could form words, Kelly straightened and looked Samantha in the eye.

  “Think about it. Think about it real hard. It’s not too late.”

  * * * * *

  Samantha sat staring into the crowd seeming to watching her friends dancing and flirting, but not really seeing them. Instead, she was lost in thought. Anticipating what her future was to be. Wishing for the passion of the past just one more time. Allowing her thoughts to drift to Eric, and a place she hadn’t thought of in far too long.

  A place that was dangerous for her future.

  He was the drug she needed. The love of her life that had taken control and propelled her into a passionate, happy life. He had been her addiction.

  “Samantha,” a deep sensual voice said from behind her.

  She didn’t immediately turn. Afraid he would really be there. Afraid he wouldn’t. Had her mind worked some strange magic, conjuring the very man she had been thinking about?

  And then his hand was on her shoulder. Like a shock wave, one made of heat, lust, and seduction, her body came alive. Her heart raced, her skin heated. Warmth spread into her stomach, and down her hips. It was as if he had made a permanent imprint on her soul.

  A deep breath, and she turned. He looked the same, yet different. Always a cowboy, his soft jeans clung to muscular thighs and defined waist. His black button-down shirt was perfectly starched. His light brown hair was just a little too long to be considered conservative. He was older, yes, but more mature beyond his years. Confident, as usual, but with a new edge. Something she didn’t quite understand.

  “Eric.”

  “It’s been a long time,” he said softly.

  “Three years,” she said a bit too fast. As if she had been counting. She hadn’t. Not past one year. That was when she had given up on him.

  “Too long,” he said, sliding his hand down her shoulder in a slow caress. “You look amazing.”

  She knew she should tell him not to touch her, but she didn’t. Couldn’t. So she tried to go on the attack. “How did you know I was here?”

  His brow inched upward. Cocky. He’d always been good at that. She’d always found it sexy. Still did. “Who said I did?”

  He removed his arm, and she felt the loss way too much. In the back of her mind, she had feared the problem with David was her, not him. That maybe she had lost her ability to feel passion. Now she knew, in a matter of minutes with Eric, that feeling was the problem.

  “No games, Eric.”

  He smiled. “I hear you’re getting married.”

  Bells went off in her head. Now it all made sense. Her friends leaving her alone. Kelly’s questions. “I am.”

  His expression was indiscernible, but the heat between them was not. It was like a mist in the air, showering them with its presence. “Sounds like a reason to share a drink.”

  “Why are you here?”

  His eyes locked with hers. The look in his eyes was direct. Hot. “You know why I’m here.”

  No, she didn’t. They had parted with animosity. He was tired of trying to live up to her father’s expectations. She didn’t want him to, but it didn’t matter. He came from a family with nothing. She came from money. Her father pointed out the difference at every opportunity. Eric hadn’t handled it well. But word traveled and Samantha knew for a fact, Eric had joined his family business and turned it around. Horse breeding had turned into big money.

  But even with the playing field even, he’d stayed away. And it hurt.

  She lashed out. Anger from the past resurfacing. Mad that he hadn’t loved her enough to deal with her father. “What? You want one last good fuck before I’m married?”

  His eyes flashed with something hard to read. Before she could try and decipher it, he leaned forward, hand sliding on the table in front of her. He leaned in close. He smelled the same. His scent had always turned her on. She didn’t know why, but it had. No. It did. God, she wanted him. She was the one who wanted one last fuck. And he was insurance it would be damn good.


  Eyes locked with hers, face near, he said, “What if I do?”

  Turnaround was fair play. She should have known not to put him on the spot. Eric had never been one to back down. But then, maybe subconsciously, she had known as much.

  Life was short. Hers as a single woman had one week remaining. That little factor was enough to dictate her response. She sucked in a silent breath and then let it out, reaching for courage. “Your place or mine?”

  For instant his face registered surprise before he wiped his expression clean. “Mine. I’m in the hotel right across the street.”

  “Your place it is.”

  She started to slide off the barstool but Eric took over. He’d always been one who liked control, and she had no doubt he was reminding her as much. Not that she minded. His form of control had always been more than pleasurable.

  His arm slid around her waist, pulling her close, pressing his hard body against her softer one. As he eased her to her feet, he slowly eased her body down his. She hadn’t felt such an electrifying charge since the last time she had been with him. No one did this to her but him. Already that little ache between her thighs, the one signaling arousal, had formed. Her stomach had butterflies, and her nipples were tingling and hard.

  For the briefest of moments she wanted to sink into him body and soul. Everything in her cried to out to him and the need to be close was so urgent she could have crawled under his very skin. As her breath caught in her throat, her hands went to his upper arms. Slowly, her eyes lifted and met his.

  In them she saw what she felt. The heat of a shared need, urgent, raw, and almost primal. But it went beyond the physical. It was like two parts of one whole coming back together. Her body ached with a need to join with his. She wanted him, and there was no fear or hesitation over her physical need.

  As long as she kept things strictly physical…

  The thought was like a slap. She diverted her gaze, quickly guarding her feelings. No. Denying them. She brusquely shoved them aside. Relentlessly, she pushed beyond her emotional urges. She had to keep this real. They were going to have sex. Nothing more. She was marrying another man. One who hadn’t deserted her.

  Eric would fuck her like a hero. Maybe getting him out of her system would allow her to enjoy David more. If so, a night with Eric might just save her from her sexless, orgasm-free existence. He would perform like the sex god he was, and then she would kiss his way-too-fine ass goodbye.

  She lifted her eyes to his, and fixed him in a cold stare. “What are we waiting for?”

  * * * * *

  Eric slid his hand over the curve of one perfect, full butt cheek, his eyes locked with hers. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Samantha didn’t speak, but her body said it all. Warm and ready, she pressed close to him, and he knew all too well she was melting. He took his hand over her smaller one, and reached for her purse where it hung on the edge of her chair. She accepted it, shoving it over her shoulder.

  There was no need to tell her friends she was leaving. They already knew what Samantha didn’t. He was here to claim her. To make her his for now and forever. If he had to make love to her all night long to prove it, he’d be more than obliged. But knowing Samantha it was going to take a wild ride to get past her shell. He’d have to fuck her brains out before he’d ever get to the slow lovemaking.

  A smile played on his lips.

  It was going to be a long, hard night.

  Chapter Two

  Eric slid the key into the slot on his hotel door, his arms enclosing Samantha between his hips and the wooden surface. God how he wanted to slide his hands around her hips, and press his cock into her nice ass. Anticipation raced through his veins making him was rock-hard, and more than ready. Yet…he knew he had to play the game right. He’d start by giving her the control. No matter how much he wanted to take it.

  He dipped his head near her neck, inhaling in the sweet smell of jasmine. Like in his dreams. The years had been packed with them. Images so vivid sometimes he swore he woke with that very smell clinging to his skin.

  Eric shoved the handle down on the door, and pushed it open. With a flip of the wrist he turned on the entrance light.

  Samantha stepped forward, and walked into the room. He followed, but he didn’t bother with the light. The curtains were drawn, and the moon was high and bright. She stopped at the foot of the bed, windows to her back as she turned to face him. Her long hair fell over her shoulders, sexy and a bit wild. A sultry smile played on her lips. Her eyes danced with mischief. The kind he knew all too well.

  She wanted to play. And fuck.

  Good, he thought, as the door shut behind him. The faster he was inside her the better. Besides, it was going to take a couple hard core orgasms to make her soften. He knew his Samantha. She’d use her knowledge of his sexual preferences as a weapon. Everything he wanted and needed she’d provide without hesitation. That was, until he reached for her heart. Which he fully intended to do.

  He stood by the entrance, watching her. Waiting. Her finger wiggled at him. “Whatcha waiting for?” she purred. “I thought you wanted to fuck?”

  She’d already started the game. He loved when she talked dirty, and she knew it. Something about her sweet exterior mixed with a little four-letter conversation lit him up like a match. And the hotter he let her play this out, the better the burn later. Once she came down from the sizzle, she melted like butter.

  Taking a step toward her, he watched as her fingers moved to the buttons of her vest. The closer he got to her, the lower her hand moved. Stopping so close a mere step separated them, he watched as she shoved aside the velvet, exposing a bright red bra. He loved red, and his first reaction was to touch. His hands slid beneath her top and shoved it off her shoulders. It pooled to the floor, but he hardly noticed. Touching her was like a lightning charge. For an instant he considered ripping her clothes off and taking her hard and fast. Just to get the edge off.

  But before he could act, she took a step backwards. Then another. Barely out of his reach. Enough to ensure he restrained himself. His eyes went to hers, and he knew she’d just taken the control back. She’d known he was slipping.

  Samantha pointed at the bed. “Sit.”

  Slowly, he gave in, and perched on the end of the mattress. Containing the amount of pure lust coursing through his body wasn’t an easy task. But then, he knew there was a reward coming soon. Samantha naked, and beneath him. Or on top of him. Any damn way was fine by him. The wait was almost over. That realization comforted where the rawness of need might otherwise demand action. He watched as she reached for her skirt and unzipped it. Then, the material slid down her curvy hips, and Eric felt sizzling anticipation of what came next. Of seeing those little silk panties.

  His eyes went to the ground, and then made a slow slide up her sexy legs. Until he came to his destination. For all of two seconds, his eyes lingered on the red satin between those lush thighs. In a quick move that took him by surprise, she slid them off her body. His eyes locked on the dark triangle between her legs. Eric smiled. He’d been the first man to know she wasn’t a true blonde. As sure as his cock throbbed with the reward of being first, knowing he hadn’t been the last also burned a hole in his heart.

  But there was no time to think of such things. Her hands slid up her body to the sides of her breasts. She palmed them, and then dropped her hands. The red satin bra parted and she shrugged it from her shoulders. His eyes watched the movement of those full, round breasts with absolute lust. There was no waiting. He had to have her.

  Eric started to stand, intent on filling his hands with her beauty. Suddenly, her black high heel was between his legs and hit the bed, just barely missing the prize jewels. “I make tonight’s rules,” she said. “You move when I say you move.”

  His hands clenched the bedcover, forcing restraint. He so wanted to reach up and touch her leg. Hell, to slide his hand right up her thigh and slip his fingers… “I want to feel how wet you are,” he said.

&
nbsp; “Who says I am?”

  A slow smile turned up the corners of his lips. “I do.” And he knew opportunity when he saw it. He wanted a confirmation. “Does he make you drip like I do, Samantha?”

  Her eyes met his, and for just an instant he saw a flash of vulnerability. He had his answer in that moment. No one made her hot the way he did. Not even the man she had agreed to call her husband.

  Abruptly, she pushed her foot off the bed and stood there, naked except for that damn sexy pair of strappy sandals. Her control was back in place. “When I turn back around, you better be naked.”

  She gave him a view of her perfect ass. Shit. She was punching his buttons in a major way. Making him pay for bringing up her husband-to-be. They both knew he was a butt man. He liked fucking her from behind. He liked touching her ass. Hell, he liked kissing it. And now he had to stand there and undress while he looked at it and not touch.

  He didn’t stand. Couldn’t. Not yet. The urge to bend her over and slide right in was simply too immediate. His shirt came off without much effort. In fact, he didn’t even remember removing it. Then his shoes. Unbuttoning his jeans was like relief. He was near bursting. Standing he shoved his pants and underwear down in one swift move.

  Samantha turned, her eyes meeting his for a split second before dropping. She ran her tongue along her bottom lip. “Hmmm,” she said. “I always thought you had a big cock. I forgot just how big.“

  She walked toward him, and he felt the heat of anticipation of her touch. And the torture of her teases. She stopped several steps in front of him and motioned him forward. “You got to inspect the goods. Now it’s my turn.”

  How much more he could take he wasn’t sure, but he did as she said. He took a long step forward, his eyes locking on those inch-high, tight nipples. His mouth watered. His eyes lifted to find her gaze on his face.