No Fooling Around: Lennox Brothers Romantic Comedy

by Hunter, Talia

  Iola took advantage of my hesitation to climb back onto my lap, straddling my legs. Her dress rode up so high I caught a glimpse of black lace panties, and I could feel her heat on my crotch, making me strain against my jeans.

  She slid her hands under my T-shirt, running her fingers across my abs. Her palm brushed my erection and it throbbed harder, my need for her so strong I couldn’t fight it.

  I couldn’t hold back.

  Taking hold of her dress, I pulled it up. She lifted both arms, helping me tug it over her head. Underneath, her breasts were encased in a soft white bra, like beautifully wrapped gifts. Her black lace panties didn’t match, but somehow the combination was even sexier than if her lingerie had been a set.

  I didn’t have much time to appreciate the gift wrapping though, because she reached behind her to unhook her bra and it dropped away.

  My hands moved to her breasts without my brain activating them, drawn to their irresistible weight. Her stomach was slightly rounded, soft and feminine.

  I’d pictured her naked many times, but my breath caught at just how stunning she was. Her nipples were already hard, and when I bent my head to worship them with my mouth, they pebbled even more, making her gasp.

  “Everything you do to me feels so good.”

  “You have no idea all the things I want to do to you.” I didn’t realize I’d said it aloud until she moaned.

  “Yes, please. I want everything. All of you.”

  Every word out of her mouth only made me throb harder. I was losing my mind, and I couldn’t bring myself to care. Running my fingers down to her panties, I stroked her over the fabric.

  She gasped again, letting her head fall back. Her panties were soaked and she ground her hips forward, pressing herself into my hand. Her quick, needy movements told me how much she needed this. She’d been waiting for years. I needed her to have everything she’d missed out on, to make up for everything she’d suffered.

  Touching her wasn’t enough.

  “I want to taste you.” It came out as a growl. Dimly I realized it went against every rule I’d made for myself. But rules were for people who didn’t have mostly naked women in their laps.

  “Taste me?” she sounded uncertain. “As in…?”

  I slid my hand between her legs, slipping my fingers under the elastic of her panties to stroke her.

  “Asher,” she groaned, squeezing her eyes shut.

  Kissing her neck, I stroked faster. “I want you in my mouth.”

  Her hands were digging into my back, her voice breathless. “I’ve never done that.”

  Lifting her off me and onto the couch, I sat her back on the cushions. I drew her panties down, then spread her legs and moved between them.

  “You don’t have to.” She sounded nervous. “If you’d rather—”

  I swiped my tongue over her and she squirmed, her words cutting off with a cry.

  “Don’t move,” I ordered.

  “Are you sure, because—?”

  I licked her again, showing her with my mouth and fingers just how turned on I was, and her hands fisted in my hair, pulling it harder and harder.

  She forgot her nervousness and bucked under my mouth, making wild, uncontrolled sounds. Each sound, each movement, turned me on even more. As my mouth feasted on her, my eyes did too. With her hair wild, her lips parted, her nipples pebbled, and her magnificent breasts swaying up and down with each panting breath, I’d never seen anyone more breathtaking. How could any man have denied her anything?

  Letting out a loud scream, she lifted her entire body, bending her spine backward as she shuddered and clenched under my tongue.

  Her orgasm was long and strong. As it slowly ebbed, she relaxed back onto the couch, and untangled her fingers from my hair. Some may have been torn out at the roots, but when she gave me a dazed, incredulous smile, I didn’t care.

  “Oh.” Her voice was little more than a gust of air. “I can’t believe I did that. I’ve never done anything like that.”

  I moved up onto the couch, pulling her onto my chest to cradle her. “You’ve never…?”

  “I never orgasmed with Benedict, only with my vibrator.” She gave me a lazy smile. “That was much better.”

  Gently and tenderly I kissed her forehead as I pictured myself ripping off all of Benedict’s limbs, one by one, while he screamed and begged for mercy.

  “Are you angry?” She blinked at me, her eyes still dazed. “Being able to see what you’re thinking is like learning a secret code. Your jaw tightens when you’re angry.” Running her finger along my jaw, it rasped across my emerging stubble. “Did I upset you?” she asked.

  Though satisfying images of revenge were still running through my mind, I made sure my voice was as calm as ever. “Benedict used you for his own pleasure, without considering yours. That makes me furious.”

  “You’re right. I’d get angry too, if I wasn’t as limp as a bean sprout.”

  Her languid smile made my chest ache. Why was it always the best, kindest, nicest people who suffered most? From now on, her gorgeous lips should only ever smile. If Benedict dared to show his miserable face around here again, I’d…

  Iola yelped, jerking her head up. “What? No, Nemesis, no!”

  I turned my face to where she was looking, but I needed have bothered. Nemesis jumped onto the arm of the couch right next to our heads. When I’d freed Iola from the burden of wearing panties, I’d dropped them on the floor. Now they were dangling from my cat’s mouth.

  “Put them down!” Iola pushed off me, trying to snatch them back. “I was just wearing those. They aren’t clean!”

  Nemesis didn’t even look like she was trying to evade Iola’s grasping hand. One moment she was on the couch next to us, the next she was a sleek black missile arcing through the air. She landed soundlessly near the side door that led out to the strip of the grass next to the house. After leveling a contemptuous stare at us, she sat down in front of the closed back door, the panties still hanging from her mouth and her tail flicking angrily from side to side.

  “She’s getting worse,” Iola exclaimed. “Now she’s not even trying to hide her thievery. Unless that’s her psychopathic way of getting our attention so we open the door for her?”

  I frowned, studying my cat. “That’s strange. Nemesis never bothers with doors. She seems to think they’re too mundane.”

  Iola blinked at me, her eyebrows high. “Your kleptomaniac cat is carrying my dirty laundry away like some kind of offering to the god of perverts, and you think the bit that’s strange is that she wants us to open the door?”

  A cold feeling was creeping up from the pit of my stomach. “Where’s Ruff?”

  Her eyes widened with sudden shock. “Oh no. I couldn’t have left him outside all this time? He always scratches to come in.”

  Scrambling up, she ran to the door stark naked and threw it open. “Ruff? Come here, boy. Where are you?”

  I got up and moved next to her, unease churning in my gut. Nemesis slipped outside carrying her trophy, but Iola didn’t notice her disappear into the darkness.

  “Ruff!” she bellowed.

  I cursed my own stupidity. Watching Ruff while he was outside should have been my priority. I’d calculated high odds of Benedict breaking in to take the dog, yet I’d been so preoccupied I’d left Ruff unattended.

  Iola turned to me, her face pale. “He’s gone.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Iola

  “Drink this.” Asher handed me a steaming hot mug of chocolate.

  I sat on a stool at the kitchen island and sipped the drink without really tasting it. I’d put my clothes back on before we went around the block calling for Ruff, though we both knew searching for him was pointless. The side gate had been padlocked when I’d let Ruff out, but I’d found the remains of the padlock on the ground. Benedict must have invested in bolt cutters.

  Tugging my cellphone out of my pocket, I put it on the countertop and stared at it while I drank, willing
it to ring.

  Asher sat on the stool next to me. He wasn’t saying much, and I was grateful. I was too upset to hold a conversation, but just having him with me was a comfort. If he was worried, he didn’t let it show, and his silent, capable presence was more reassuring than I could say.

  My phone’s shrill ring made me jump and almost spill my drink, even though I’d expected the call. The screen said Private Number.

  I dragged in a breath, meeting Asher’s gaze and drawing strength from his calm gray eyes before I answered the call.

  “Benedict,” I said instead of hello, trying to project Asher’s level of cool and not quite managing to.

  He chuckled, the bastard. “You must know by now I have my dog back.”

  “Hurt Ruff and I’ll kill you.”

  “Calm down, Iola. It’s only an animal.”

  “You’re the animal. You’ve never loved anything in your life.” With the hand that wasn’t gripping the phone, I reached for Asher. He caught my hand and held it, lending me more of his strength and control. Without him, I’d probably be trying to sob and scream at Benedict at the same time.

  “Be sensible, darling. You have no way to support yourself in California. Come home with me, and we’ll say no more about your vacation. I’m still prepared to forgive you.”

  “Forgive me?” My voice rose. “You destroyed my paintings!”

  “And you embarrassed me.” His voice was hard. “The night you left, we were supposed to be at Lord Pardington’s wedding. By disappearing, you put me in an extremely uncomfortable position.”

  “Why do you even want me back? Didn’t you always tell me I’m more trouble than I’m worth?”

  “You’re my wife, Iola. That’s a commitment you don’t get to shirk. And when you behave properly, you can be a decent wife. Even my mother admitted as much, and she never thought I’d never find anyone good enough for me.”

  Ugh. His mother was the worst. In the first years of my marriage, I’d tried to make the best of things, hoping Benedict would let me have more freedom as we got to know each other. Eventually I’d asked his mother for help. But she was no ally. She said men of Benedict’s class and lineage were used to being obeyed, and berated me for disrespecting him.

  “You’re delusional, Benedict. Really. You need professional help.”

  He let out a loud sigh, as though he couldn’t understand why I was being difficult and was almost done humoring me. “Remember your manners or I might change my mind about taking you back.”

  “The day I go back to you will be the day the devil goes ice-skating through hell. In a tutu!”

  “Very well, Iola. It’ll take a day to have the dog’s paperwork arranged, so you have twenty-four hours to change your mind. Then I’ll revoke the offer to return to England with me, and that door will permanently close.”

  “I’ve already told you—”

  “And if you’re not in London to look after the dog, I’ll have no reason to keep it alive.”

  My skin went cold and I squeezed Asher’s hand even tighter. “What? No. You wouldn’t kill Ruff.”

  “I might not bother taking the dog to the vet to have it done. There are other methods, although they may not be as painless.”

  “I won’t let Ruff leave the country. I’ll go to the police.”

  “The dog is legally mine.” His tone was harsh. “If you try anything foolish, you’ll be the one who’s arrested.”

  “Then you’ll never get me back.”

  “Be grateful I’m offering you a chance to return to England with me at all. I’ll call you tomorrow evening to hear your decision. You should think long and hard about how you’re going to make up for your behavior and show your appreciation for my lenience.”

  I started to tell him how much he disgusted me, but found myself talking to a dead line. Benedict had hung up on me.

  Fuming, I turned to Asher and found I was still clutching his hand, probably squeezing all the blood from his fingers. And even after I realized, it took a moment before I could force myself to let go.

  “Are you okay?” Asher flexed his hand, but to his credit, he didn’t wince.

  “Benedict’s going to call tomorrow night, so I have to steal Ruff back from him before then. Only I don’t know how to find him.”

  Asher tapped his chin, his expression thoughtful. “Maybe there’s another way.”

  “You know a professional assassin-for-hire who’d be willing to kill Benedict and offers a 90-day payment plan?”

  “That could be a problem. All the assassins I know only take cash.”

  “Then what’s your idea?”

  “Would Benedict accept money in exchange for Ruff?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t have any to offer him.”

  “I could—”

  “If you’re about to say you could offer him money on my behalf, thanks, but he wouldn’t take it anyway. Benedict’s already rich. He cares more about his reputation than making more money.”

  He nodded slowly. “Then what if you called his friends and explained the situation? They might shame him into giving Ruff back.”

  “That would be a good idea, only you haven’t met Benedict’s so-called friends. They’re all as bad as he is.”

  “His parents?”

  I let out a huff of air. “If I called them, they’d remind me he was my husband and therefore the boss, tell me not to be selfish, and order me back to England where I belong.”

  His mouth twisted. “They sound like delightful people.”

  “I’ll introduce you. If you like stuck-up, bigoted misogynists with no empathy or compassion, you’ll love them.”

  “I’ll add them to my Christmas card list.”

  “Any other ideas?” I picked up my mug of hot chocolate with shaky hands and tried to take a sip. My stomach was churning so much, it only made me feel sicker.

  “Only one.”

  “You’re thinking what I’m thinking?” I put the mug down. “That we should kill Benedict ourselves, take Ruff, and flee to Canada?”

  He shook his head. “My plan’s a little different.”

  “You think we should flee to South America?” I bit my lip, hating my need to make light of things when I was so worried about Ruff. It might have helped me get through the awful Benedict years, but I didn’t need to do it anymore. If only it were easy to stop.

  “I’m pretty sure you won’t like what I’m going to suggest,” he said.

  “Try me.”

  “We could set up Benedict and blackmail him.”

  I searched his face. His expression was serious and his gaze was level. No sign of any tell-tale shiver in the muscles under his eyes.

  “Are you for real?” I asked, just to check.

  “I didn’t think you’d like it. Don’t worry, I’ll come up with something less drastic.”

  My heart sped up, a sliver of hope making me feel less grim. “I like it a lot.”

  Asher put his elbows on the counter, leaning closer. He examined my face as closely as I’d searched his. “You’re willing to resort to blackmail?”

  “Would I be willing to blackmail the man who controlled me for years, stopped me getting access to my own money, destroyed my paintings, and is threatening to shoot Ruff just to get back at me? Honestly, I’d still rather kill him, but blackmail comes a close second.”

  Asher’s gaze grew warm. “I’m surprised.”

  I flushed, thinking about how Benedict had disapproved of just about everything I’d said and done. “In a bad way?”

  “The opposite. I’m impressed you’ll consider something so… unconventional.”

  “I can’t let Benedict kill Ruff.” I toyed with the handle of my mug, just to have something to do with my hands. “If I can’t get him back, I’ll have to go back to England.”

  Asher gave a slow blink, his version of shock. “You’d go back to Benedict to save Ruff?”

  “Ruff’s my family.”

  The problem was, Santino was my
only other family member, and if I left the country I wouldn’t get to see him. Even if he wasn’t allowed visitors before his sentencing, I’d thought I’d at least be able to go to the courthouse to support him.

  Pushing my mug away, I rubbed my hands over my eyes.

  “We’ll get Ruff back,” Asher promised.

  “How? What can we blackmail Benedict with?”

  “I have an idea, but I want to sleep on it and work through the details before we discuss it. And in the light of day, you might decide blackmail isn’t your preferred option.”

  Ruff’s chewed-up giraffe was on the floor beside me, and I got off my stool to pick it up and squeeze it. My chest hollowed out when I thought about how confused Ruff must be. He’d miss his toys, and his own bed.

  “By morning, I might have figured out a way to murder Benedict and get away with it.”

  Asher’s gaze dropped to the chew toy. “Stay at my place tonight. Sleep in my spare bedroom. You won’t be surrounded by Ruff’s things, and you won’t need to be afraid Benedict might come back.”

  I stared at his blank expression, but it was like trying to read a page written in invisible ink. “Thanks,” I said after a moment, trying to sound normal. Asher was offering me his spare bed instead of his own? Was he retreating inward again, putting the barriers back up between us? Or maybe he was just being considerate, thinking I’d be too upset about Ruff to feel sexy.

  “I’ll get my pajamas.” I stood up with a sigh. My body had gone weak and I felt drained. I was already too exhausted to figure out whether Asher was regretting what we’d done or not, and I still had a long night of worrying about Ruff ahead of me.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Asher

  I told Iola my plan the next morning while we ate scrambled eggs in my kitchen. She was still subdued, obviously missing Ruff, and the dark shadows under her eyes said she hadn’t slept well.

  “How will we get Benedict to tell us where he’s keeping Ruff?” she asked when I’d laid out the details of what I thought we should do.

  “Leave that to me.”