Deluxe Cinderella Chronicles 3 Story Box Set

by Lisa Renee Jones

  Without meaning to, she reached for his mouth, her upper body turning to allow her better access. She couldn’t stop herself. It felt necessary. As if she had to kiss him. To have just one more taste. But she needed more than that. With everything female inside her, she yearned for Eric. She turned to him, one hand finding his shoulder. Instincts pressed her to maneuver her body, trying to get as close as possible. Then, he was kissing her, his tongue stroking hers with long, sensual caresses. She wasn’t sure if he had claimed her mouth or she his. It didn’t seem to matter. She just needed. Wanted. Had to have. Regrets, past history, and doubt were gone. What ifs slipped into the dark haze of desire.

  Eric reached for her leg and pulled it over his hip, sliding his cock between her thighs, and then molding their bodies tight. The result was a funny feeling deep in her stomach. Arousal, yes. Passion, most definitely. But there was something more. His lips slid over hers and then lingered. They breathed together, holding that kiss without tongue. Just feeling the soft press of lips to lips and body to body.

  Waves of thoughts, one after another, crashed down in her mind. This was what he’d made her feel in the past. So…close in a consuming, intensely private kind of joining. It was a product of more than simple lust. She felt it like an emotional eruption starting at her heart and then slowly spreading through her body. Inch by inch.

  “Samantha,” he whispered into her mouth, passion lacing his tone with clear precision. In that one word, her name, she heard his emotions and knew he shared in this crazy, consuming feeling that was rocking her world. His hand moved up her back with slow, perfect pressure, molding them even closer.

  And then they snapped. Like a rubber band that had been held back and let loose, they were kissing, nipping, touching. Her hands absorbed those rippling muscles even as her hips slid along the heavy presence of his arousal between her legs. Kissing her, he pushed her backwards, back against the mattress, and slid between her legs. In some far reach of her mind, she recognized his need to be on top as a power thing. This was twice he’d claimed the position when he usually preferred her on top.

  But the thought was quickly forgotten.

  Eric palmed her breasts and then squeezed. He pushed the two mounds together and then his tongue lapped at her nipple. Her hands went to his hair, her fingers tunneling into the soft strands. And her back arched as his tongue, teeth, and lips teased each nipple.

  Samantha moaned. He would tease her until she asked. She knew him. “I want you inside me, Eric.”

  He looked up at her, his hands still filled with her breasts, her nipples peaked and wet from his mouth. For long moments, he stared at her, his gaze burning hot. And then, finally, he moved. His mouth claimed hers with a demanded kiss bred of something raw and alive. Possessive and fired with one stroke of the tongue after the other, she could do nothing more than submit.

  Without warning, his cock slid inside her, and he sunk deep. Samantha gasped into his mouth, surprised but, oh so, thankful. This was what she needed. The absolute, utter completeness of the moment made her breath lodge in her throat. Eric tore his mouth from hers and rose up on his hands. He held himself up on his muscular arms, staring down at her again. Only this time it was to watch what his actions did to her. Slowly, he slid his cock backwards. She wanted to pull him back. Inch by inch, he tortured her. Taking what she so wanted. He stopped when just the head was inside her. Samantha arched her hips, trying to keep him from pulling all of the way out.

  And then with one, hard thrust, he plunged into her, throwing his head back and letting out a guttural roar. Samantha’s head pressed backwards into the pillow, her eyelids forced shut from the rocket of bliss that pounded down into the center of her body. It hit her core and then shot through the rest of her like a glass shattering.

  Before she could recover, Eric started a fast rhythm. He drove into her, over and over. Samantha raised her hips, arching into him. Wanting more. Faster. Harder. Deeper. Her legs went over his calves, her hands on his nice, tight ass. Anyway, anyhow, she could try to get more because this tingling, perfect ache was building and building…and she just needed it to explode.

  Suddenly, Eric lowered his body, his mouth finding hers, his chest pressing against her breast. Kissing her with hot passion even as he moved inside her. And then he rocked. Side to side, back and forth, and that little ache began to expand…

  “Oh God,” she murmured. “Oh…”

  Samantha stiffened, ripples of unbelievable pleasure actually shaking her body. Eric continued his moves, riding her like a hero and letting her feel every, explicit piece of perfection there was to embrace.

  Reality surfaced, but she was completely zapped. But she so wanted him to feel the same pleasure. With all she had, she arched into him, meeting his thrust. And thankful, he shook and shuttered, and cried out her name.

  He had come, and she collapsed.

  His body on top of hers, face buried inside her she felt her chest tighten. Why did things have to be like they were? Why had he left her? And why was she marrying another man? Eric was more than her addiction. He was the man she loved. And no matter how much she wanted to run, he wasn’t making it easy. But somewhere deep inside she promised herself she’d be strong. Later.

  Just not now.

  But soon. The minute she had the opportunity, she had to leave.

  Just not now.

  * * * * *

  An hour later, Eric shut the bathroom door, and Samantha let out a breath. Her eyes went to the clock. Noon. She couldn’t believe it. How had she spent so many hours with Eric? Only it hadn’t felt like a long time at all. Which meant she had failed her own test. She loved him. There was no hope of the hop in bed, have hot sex, and then adios. Her big ole heartache was starting all over. He’d go back to his ranch and cowboy ways. She‘d marry a man who couldn’t hold her attention let alone give her an orgasm.

  She had only one option. Shoving the sheet aside, Samantha scrambled for her clothes.

  She had to leave right now.

  Before she talked herself into staying.

  And that would be very bad.

  * * * * *

  Eric sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling the slap of Samantha’s departure. She’d failed his test. He’d promised himself if she left when he was in that bathroom he’d let her go. Only now, faced with the reality of the empty hotel room, he wasn’t finding it easy to swallow.

  The writing was on the wall. He’d waited too long to come for her. Even believing she was marrying another had been hard to swallow. But then, really, it shouldn’t have been. What had he been waiting for?

  He should have come back for her a long time ago. But he couldn’t turn back time or correct the stupidity of his youthful actions. His desire to be perfect upon his return had always led him to waiting a little longer. Maybe in the back of his mind, he’d been afraid.

  Afraid of what had just happened.

  So now he had to decide. Was this done or wasn’t it? Did he stay or go?

  Chapter Six

  “Coffee?”

  Samantha looked up from the case file she was pretending to study to find her assistant Vilma Rogers standing in the doorway.

  “No.” She tried to smile but failed. “Thanks though.”

  Vilma’s dark brow inched upward. Short and full-figured, with a round, happy face, it took effort for her to look stern. She crossed her arms in front of her big bosom as if she might try, but then softened, showing concern instead. “No coffee? What’s wrong? Pre-wedding jitters?” She moved into the room, and stopped in front of Samantha’s desk. “I hardly think dealing with divorce cases right before your wedding day is motivational.”

  “It’s my job.” Samantha shrugged. “I’m a divorce attorney.” She made another lame attempt at a smile trying to make her words seem as if in jest. “I help people get unmarried who shouldn’t have ever done it in the first place.”

  Vilma’s lips pursed. “Like I said, I can’t believe you’re working today.”<
br />
  “It’s Monday,” Samantha said. “The wedding isn’t until Saturday.”

  Tossing her pencil on the desk, Samantha leaned back in her chair. Monday had come slow. Sunday had been filled with thoughts of Eric. And hopes. A part of her had really wanted him to show up at her doorstep. Or to call. He’d done neither.

  Staying home to let her mind run wild hadn’t been an option. Working on wedding plans hadn’t either. “The last thing I need is more time on my hands to think or worry.”

  A deep voice interjected. “Which you’re very good at.”

  David. Vilma turned a smile on him. “Well there he is. The man of the hour has arrived. I hope you’re going to talk her into taking off the rest of the week. She’s a ball of nerves.”

  He smiled at Vilma. “I tried last night on the phone, but she wouldn’t listen. I thought maybe a little in person persuasion might be in order and it seems I’m correct.”

  Watching David move closer, Samantha held her breath. Waiting for something to happen. Anything. But there was no funny feeling in her stomach. No sizzling awareness. He was an attractive man. Tall, blond, and sun-bronzed. He kept fit and sported a muscular body as a reward. With money, confidence, and looks, most would consider him a prime catch.

  Why didn’t she? To her he was a logical, safe choice. He didn’t make her feel what Eric did. So what did that mean? Was it good or bad?

  “I’ll just leave you two alone,” Vilma said, and winked at David. Then she scurried from the room in a rush and shut the door behind her.

  David smiled and started walking toward her. “So what’s my lovely wife-to-be say to taking the rest of the day off?”

  Instincts made Samantha raise her hand, stop sign fashion. She needed space. Time to think. “No. I can’t. Besides, the day just started.”

  “I’ve been out of town for days.” He stopped walking, and stood behind one of the guest chairs. “We could grab some coffee and then you can go do wedding stuff.”

  So he wasn’t even going to spend the day with her if she took off. There was the making of a quality relationship. “I really can’t.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “I have a lunch meeting.” With Kelly, but he didn’t have to know that.

  He smiled. “Cancel it. You’re a bride.”

  “Not yet, I’m not.” She didn’t like it when he did that…that thing he did. Acting like her father. Telling her what to do. “No.” Her response came a bit too sharp.

  His brow inched upward and his hands went to the back of the chair. “No?”

  He didn’t say ‘no’ in an irritated way. It had sounded more wounded than anything. That took her off guard, though really it shouldn’t have though. David wasn’t her father. She just wanted him to do something wrong right now and she knew it. He did tend to be a bit controlling, which resembled her father attitude. On the other hand, he was attentive and kind and gentle. If she responded negatively to a push, he backed off.

  Her father would keep pushing.

  Samantha let out a long breath. Maybe she was just having pre-wedding jitters. Maybe. Or maybe Eric had invaded her life with hot sex, past and recent, and now her fear of losing hot sex for the rest of her life.

  “Samantha?”

  David’s voice drew her out of her own little personal hell thoughts. “Sorry,” she said, forcing a smile. “I really need to make this lunch. I’m trying to clear everything for while I’m gone.”

  “How about making it an early day then? I think I can get out of my late meetings. I’ll come by at 3:00. We can go have drinks and dinner.”

  Okay so that was nice. He wanted to spend time with her. That should make her happy. Why, now that he offered, was she so hesitant to be with the man she was supposed to marry? “I can try,” she said. “I…I’d like to.”

  He moved then, rounding the desk. She turned to face him, knowing an embrace was expected and suddenly welcoming it. It had become urgent that she feel something, anything, when he touched her. His hands slid to her waist, she felt his thighs brush hers. Her hands went to his chest. It was a nice chest, broad and muscular. So why the hell did it not turn her on?

  David reached down and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. Tender and gentle. There were those words again. “You’re very beautiful,” he said.

  She studied his face. No passion burned in his eyes. No desire. He had said the words as if he commented on a painting. “Kiss me,” she said.

  He laughed. “Demanding this morning, aren’t you?”

  Eric wouldn’t have thought twice about taking what she offered. Hell, he might have taken before it was offered. “Just kiss me, David.”

  Laughing, he tilted his head down, and brushed his lips against hers. She pushed up on her toes, and refused to end the contact. Trying desperately to spark some heat between them. But while she tried to claim his mouth, he tried to escape.

  “What is wrong with you?” he asked. “This is your office.”

  She let out a long breath and eased down from her tiptoes. “Right. Call me at three.”

  He stared at her a moment, but she turned away, claiming her chair and sitting down. It was her silent approval of his departure.

  “You’re acting very strange, Samantha.”

  She glanced up at him. “I told you I’m very busy.”

  A pregnant silence.

  “Alright then, I’ll call you at three.”

  David left without another word, and Samantha stared at the door as it closed behind him. And her mind went to Eric. If he had been here instead of David, she’d be bent over the desk right now.

  She squeezed a pencil in her hand. When that wasn’t enough she squeezed her eyes shut too. “What is wrong with you?” she murmured to herself. Stop thinking about Eric! Stop comparing Eric to David and David to Eric!

  With Eric everything was about sex. Or was it? All of a sudden, air felt trapped in her chest. Samantha found it hard to breathe. She forced the feeling aside, blowing out air and trying to relax. To think. Eric turned her on but that was it. Hot sex did not mean love. But didn’t people who were in love, have hot sex? This was so confusing. Why was sex with David so…nothing? If love equaled passion and passion equaled love, what did that mean?

  Chapter Seven

  Samantha and Kelly sat in the corner booth of the tiny Mexican restaurant on Fifth. The owner barely spoke English, and the atmosphere was nothing fancy, but it housed the best queso and chips in all of Austin.

  Samantha scooped up cheese with her chip and took a bite. “Hmmm,” she murmured. “I love this stuff.”

  Kelly gave her a level stare. “Talk, woman. Quit stalling. I want the dirt. Tell me about Eric.”

  “You’re the one who needs to do some talking,” Samantha retorted, picking up a new chip and pointing it at her. “What the hell was the other night all about?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kelly said coyly, and reached for a chip.

  “You know very well what I’m talking about. Eric didn’t find me at that bar without some help. I know you set me up.” Samantha scooped more cheese. She needed something to do and eating seemed as good as anything.

  “Oh please,” Kelly said, waving off the words. “You should thank me not yell.”

  “What?” Samantha said, and dropped her chip on the plate. “Thank you?”

  Kelly rolled her eyes. “You and I both know you needed that.”

  “That?” Samantha shook her head. “What exactly are you talking about? That meaning what?”

  Kelly sighed and settled her arms on the table, abandoning food. “Look,” she said. “You’re about to marry a man you don’t even get hot for. A best friend doesn’t take her best friend’s deprivation without a fight.”

  “Good grief, Kelly,” Samantha said, disgust in her voice. “You make it sound like I’m about to go without food. Poor deprived Samantha needs regular orgasms? What the heck is it with you?”

  “We’re talking serious
stuff here,” Kelly insisted. “Marriage is a lifetime. Choose properly. Frankly, I’m disappointed in how you’re handling your life right now.”

  Samantha blinked. “What?” Kelly had never, ever said anything like this to her in all the years they had been friends. “Suddenly my life is crap because I don’t rank orgasm as the primary motivation in happily-ever-after?” She paused. “Have you been drinking?”

  Kelly sighed. “You’re making me do this.” She reached beside her and picked up an envelope. Handing it to Samantha, she said, “Open it.”

  Samantha frowned but curiosity made her accept what was offered. Kelly cleared everything on top of the table, pushing it into a corner. “Put them side by side in front of you,” she ordered.

  Inside the envelope, Samantha found two pictures. The first one was the engagement picture taken of her and David. It was a nice picture. They looked happy. The photographer had done an excellent job of making the image professional yet romantic.

  Kelly patted the table. “Lay it here.”

  Samantha did as she said.

  Glancing at the picture, Kelly said. “It’s a nice shot, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Yes it is,” Samantha said feeling defensive despite Kelly’s compliment sensing it was a trick of some sort.

  Waving her hand, Kelly said, “Now the next one.”

  The next picture made Samantha’s eyes go wide. It was of her and Eric at her bachelorette party. They were talking and Eric was holding her close. She swallowed. They looked seductive and hot and…like… She sat the picture down not wanting to even allow the words to form in her head.

  Kelly didn’t look down. She looked at Samantha. “This is not about an orgasm or two or three or a million for that matter. Look at these images and be honest with yourself about what you see.” She picked up the picture of Samantha and Eric. “This is two people in love. Hot for each other, yes, but also in love.”

  Samantha swallowed hard. That was exactly the thought she hadn’t allowed herself to think. What was she going to do? Panic rose. She reached for the pictures, taking the one of her and Eric out of Kelly’s hand. Then, she reached for the other one. “I need to get back to work.”