She rested her head against his chest and listened to his heart beating. The quickened rhythm pleased her. He was definitely feeling this. She moved to the side of him and onto the warmed bed. Her body was lovely and warm now, and she kept the covers pulled up to their chins.
Brock looked at her, and she gave a small smile and kissed down the outside of his arm. He reached over and stroked her hair from her face. Sarah moved lower, beneath the blanket, caressing and kissing his beautiful body. His skin almost buzzed against her lips. Some sort of friction was there, and the heat from him belied his arousal.
He moaned as she moved her mouth lower, and her hand gripped his erection, giving a few long, slow strokes. His cock was the most perfect she’d ever seen. A little thicker than usual but not compromising on length. Inside her, it had ruined her for other men, she was sure. If she didn’t find a way for them to meld their sexual worlds, she may never get to have sex again.
How could any man ever touch her as deeply as Brock had? He understood her on a level she wasn’t sure she understood herself. But then, wasn’t that exactly what she did for him. She knew his pain. He’d been hurt. He’d been hurt terribly. He needed to let it go a little and see not every personal relationship was out to hurt him.
Brock stroked her hair still and touched her cheek now and then. Sarah moved ever lower and kissed at the base of his cock, her hand cupping the underside. He shuddered and groaned.
“Sarah…don’t…”
“Shhhh.” She folded back the covers because it was like a furnace under there.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to. I’d like to. If it’s too much, tell me to stop. I know this is a very intimate thing.” She kissed the very top. The smooth skin warm against her lips. She licked over it, and Brock shivered a little, but his body burned wherever they met.
“Sarah.” He sighed her name in a rough breath.
“Shhhh. Let me taste you, Brock. Just a little.”
She let her mouth cover the head of him then, and his hips thrust up ever so slightly, but she felt it. With her hand gripping the base of his cock and her mouth sliding up and down on the head, Sarah had never felt more powerful. She began to understand how someone could get hooked on that feeling.
Brock just took that a few steps further to protect himself from getting emotionally involved. It seemed sad to Sarah that he could never allow himself to be loved, or to love. Ultimately, it was his choice, but—just for now—it was her choice, and she intended to do everything she could to invoke an emotional response from him.
He’s stiffened his body a little, and his breathing was heavier. Sarah’s jaw ached a little, as she wasn’t an expert at this by any means. She stopped sucking and kissed the head of his cock, tracing her tongue around the very tip—the most sensitive part. She lapped up, like a bowl of ice cream, the small drop of moisture from his tip.
“Sarah…God. So fucking good.”
Sarah looked up at him and smiled, his eyes impossibly darker and shining with passion. She used her hand to stroke him long and hard. The moisture from her mouth, which was still on him, made it easy to get a firm, fast action going.
“I love your body. Your cock is perfect for me. Tastes perfect. I’d like you to come for me, Brock.”
His body tensed, and he frowned.
“Brock. I’ve come for you. So hard, so long. Remember me coming for you? Remember how I screamed?”
He grunted, and Sarah pumped his cock harder and faster, sensing he was on the edge of somewhere he hadn’t been in a long time. Every inch of muscle was rock hard. He was so close. Sarah showed no mercy, and she kept talking.
“You took me, Brock. You made me have the best orgasm I’ve ever had. I want you to come for me. Come on, baby. You can do it. Think of my tight pussy weeping for you right now, needing you to tie me up and fuck me the way you want to…the way you need to.”
Brock’s body vibrated, and his eyes were screwed shut. His fists gripped the sheets, and Sarah knew he was almost to that point of no return. But he hadn’t given into it yet. He was still fighting it, fighting her.
“Come for me. Let it go. Let me tastes your hot passion. Let me taste it as I swallow you down my throat,” she urged. She wasn’t going to let him off the hook—not now. A couple of tiny jerks by him, and she knew he was there. She could feel it.
“Stop. Stop. Please.”
His safe word. Sarah placed her mouth over his swollen cock head and sucked as hard as she could. Her hand still working him hard. Then, it happened. He exploded into her mouth, and she took all she could—the rest spilling a little. But he’d come. She pushed him beyond the brink and then brought him back.
He swore and groaned but was powerless to stop what his body had set into action. Sarah kissed all the way back up his shaking body, laying over the top of him again. She held him, snaking her hands under his spent body, and she kissed his lips. He was silent. But he held her tight and kissed her back.
She just turned, slid to the side, and encouraged him to turn on his side facing her, and she held him, kissing his face, holding him close, and murmuring to him how wonderful that was for her. “Thank you. That was beautiful. It’s been a long time since I’ve wanted to do that for anyone.”
Brock’s breathing had evened out slightly. “I said my safe word. You kept going.”
“Now you know how I felt when I couldn’t say mine, but then you shattered me with that orgasm.”
“Thank you. Thank you for taking the time.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Yes. So incredible. I’m not sure anyone has ever taken me there before.” He held her so tight to him. “I’m not sure you’ll ever get rid of me now. I’ll follow you around like a puppy.”
“I’m sure I’ll do something to piss you off soon enough, and you’ll be back to normal.”
Brock laughed, and Sarah joined in. That was phase one done. He’d come for her. It wasn’t quite the tender and emotional moment she was striving for, the one she knew Brock would still resist at all costs, but it was a huge start.
“But, you haven’t come.”
“Neither did you, with me.”
“That’s different. In that mode, it’s not about my orgasm; it’s about control.”
“Whatever. I can wait. Make next time even better.”
“Speaking of time. We’d better get ready. We must be close to landing. I’m hungry again.” Brock smiled, and it warmed her heart.
“Do I have a passport?”
“Yep.”
“How?”
“Billionaire, remember. Nothing is impossible if you throw enough money at it.” He kissed her forehead. “You’ll love Paris. But we’ll be eating at one of the most exclusive places, so we must go shopping for outfits.”
“Wait. Big, bad, in-control Brock wants to go shopping for women’s clothing…in Paris?”
“I’m a complex beast.”
Sarah laughed. “You just want to approve of my choice so I don’t embarrass you.”
“Not at all. I’m sure your ripped, skinny jeans and faded t-shirts will go down a treat in Paris.”
“They totally would. But I’ll appease you. Besides, I’m dying to spend some of my new salary.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, but I’ll be paying.” He jumped out of bed and headed for the bathroom.”
“What? No way. I’m not some pauper you have to makeover.”
“Pretty Woman,” he called back.
“Pardon?”
“The movie with Richard Gere and Julia Roberts. We could be like that.”
“Except she was a prostitute and I’m a lawyer. Your lawyer.” Sarah clambered off the bed and hunted in her bag for clothes that might be okay for shopping in Paris. This shouldn’t have excited her so much, but what woman wouldn’t be stoked about Paris? It played into her romantic plans perfectly.
Okay…so, lacy lingerie, skimpy knickers, silk bras. She dug a little deeper. Camisoles
. Bikinis. Her satin robe. Garter belt, suspenders, and lace topped stockings…she’d bought them for a fancy dress party for God’s sake. There wasn’t one item of clothing in here.
“I’m going to kill that woman.”
“What woman?” Brock strode out into the bedroom area and pulled open a draw to get underwear and put on.
Sarah had to admire his gorgeous body as he did so. Then she remembered her dilemma. “Damn Bella, she’s packed me nothing but lingerie and underwear!”
Brock laughed so loud. “I like her more and more.”
“You won’t be laughing when I’m strolling along the exclusive stores wearing my undies.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” He walked over and put his arms around her. “There might be worse things.”
“Very funny. But seriously, what do I do?”
“You’ll have to wear what you had on when I came to get you.”
“Can you suffer me in my old favorites?”
“As long as it takes me to get you to store and gets you looking delightfully feminine.”
“I’m not sure I’m a fan of you dressing me.”
“Funny, you seem to be a fan of me undressing you.”
“You’re a regular comedian, aren’t you?”
“Oh, come on. Shopping with you has to hit high on the romance meter. You wanted romantic. I’m just doing as I’m told.”
Sarah scoffed in a light-hearted manner. “You? Doing as you’re told. I know there’ll be a catch.”
“A catch you’ll enjoy. I survived the first part of operation romance. I think it will be fun for the rest of the twenty-four hours to do it your way.”
“I still smell a catch.”
“Let’s just say that when your twenty-four hours is up, I may have a new agreement ready.”
Sarah smiled. “I knew it. But it does sound intriguing.”
“See? I’m getting the hang of this romance stuff. Now I’m being intriguing.”
“We do need to go home some time. There’s still work to be done.”
“Now who’s not being romantic?” He walked away to grab jeans and t-shirt and got dressed.
Sarah pulled on her clothes, too. “Point taken. Just remember, this is my time, so don’t you go trying to manipulate it.”
“Never dream of it, my love.”
Sarah liked him calling her that but she had to remember that this wasn’t real, and this wasn’t to make anyone fall in love. This was two friends helping each other through some tough shit and having some fun along the way.
It had nothing at all to do with falling in love.
Chapter Ten
The streets of Paris were alive with activity. Sarah looked around in wonder, pointing out all the fabulous things she’d always wanted to see but never thought she would. Brock smiled and held her hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.
She let out a loud gasp when she saw the Eiffel Tower all lit up. It stopped her in her tracks. This was a fantasy moment. “Oh. It’s just beautiful, Brock.”
“We’ll be going there soon. But first we’ll shop.”
“Are the stores open late?”
“For me they are. The ones I need anyway.”
Sarah let out a breath. This man was…well, he was impossible, and yet he was everything any woman could want. When he opened himself up, he was so perfect. It made her think about his daughter, Heather, and her mother.
“Brock?”
“Yes?”
“You must’ve been very young when Heather was born.”
He fell silent for a few steps. “I was. We both were.”
“Can I ask…?”
“Jodie and I were headstrong teenagers. Her family fell on the wrong side of the tracks—according to my father anyway, and her father told her anyone like me was only ever used to buying people off. They never had feelings for anything except money.”
“So, it was the forbidden attraction.”
“Some things never change.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “We were determined to prove everyone wrong. At fifteen, we knew everything, right?”
“Fifteen.” Sarah still found that hard to imagine.
“Yes. Me with my father dead and my mother spiralling downwards. Her with her father constantly telling her how she wasn’t good enough for a rich boy.”
“That’s sad.” Sarah felt for him. That age was a tough gig.
Brock walked a few more steps before he spoke again. “It was. But in hindsight, we should’ve listened to a certain degree. No one can know that love that lasts a lifetime was a lot harder to get than by just wishing for it.”
“It all seems so simple then.”
“Yes. But we managed to complicate it as much as anyone could.”
“But Heather is a lovely young woman.”
“She is. Thanks to her mother mostly.”
“I’m sure you had a hand in it.”
“Not really. Apart from paying for education and the occasional family dinner.”
Brock fell silent again. Sarah sensed he’d had enough of that subject for now and said, “My brother was so lovely. He was kind and gentle. He saw the romance in everything. Typical artistic type. But he felt things too deeply at times.”
“What happened?”
“You must understand, my parents were, well, not available physically or emotionally at that time. Addiction had become their whole lives. Still is as far as I know.”
“That’s sad. But I get the addiction thing. My mother suffered from grief terribly after losing Dad. She hooked up with the first person who talked nice to her, and he latched on until all the money was gone.”
“Derek killed himself, and I never thought I’d get over it. It did nothing to help my parent’s way of life. I was off the rails for a couple of years. Bella saved me.”
“I’m sorry about the artwork. I truly thought it would make you happy.”
“The pieces of artwork have. It’s just such a raw story, and I’ve only ever shared it with Bella. My parents held themselves over my head for ages. I refused to pay for them. I figured they were long gone by now.” Sarah held his hand tighter. It felt good to share some of her life, the reason why she was the way she was.
“I guess everyone has a story.”
“For sure. But once I came out of it and figured out that my life was only what I made of it, I set my sights on being the best lawyer out there.”
“And you’ve succeeded.”
“I’ve a long way to go yet. Years of experience is needed.”
“I disagree. One thing Heather has taught me is that everyone has something to bring to the table. Everyone has strengths and weaknesses. Not everyone works the same but that doesn’t devalue what they can do. Fresh and new is as valuable as experienced and older in my eyes. Both have their places.”
“Is that what we’re doing?”
“You mean trying to blend our styles?”
“Perhaps.”
“Maybe just trying to understand each other better so we can be friends.”
“Maybe that too.” Sarah considered his words. Why did it matter to her?
“I’m not sure really, Sarah. Maybe we like to torture ourselves with the impossible. I know I like having you around. I trust you professionally, and as a friend. I want to know you better, and I want to let me you know me. What I don’t know is how this will end up.”
“Day by day is good for me. Why worry about the end? Let’s just live in the moment. But at work, we must be professional.” Sarah was in a reckless mood.
“But one day we will have to answer that question.”
“And we may get hurt. But I want to cross that when I come to it.”
“Here we are.” Brock stopped walking in front of a darkened store. He tapped on the door and lights went on behind the heavy blinds in the window. “Great. Pierre is here already.”
“Pierre?” No, surely not.
“Pierre Baston.” He grinned back at her.
“The Pi
erre Baston?”
“None other. French designer extraordinaire. At our service.”
“Your money really does open doors.”
“This is more about a drunken weekend on a yacht where we became firm friends.”
“Unbelievable.” Sarah was amazed. Now he was friends with the most notoriously unfriendly designer in the world.
“You can’t believe everything you read. We all have a gimmick.”
“So I see.”
The door opened and Pierre Baston stood there, dressed impeccably. “Brock! How fabulous to see you. Come in. Come in. Mon Dieu! What is she wearing? And you?” His accent was supremely French. “Hurry before the fashion police arrive and arrest you.”
They both stepped in the wide door, and Pierre’s store was full of the most gorgeous dresses Sarah had ever seen. She couldn’t wear anything like this.
“Pierre, this is Sarah. She’s the head of my legal team, and my friend.”
“Friend? Friend? What is the world coming to when you have friend?” Pierre laughed very loud and hit Brock in the arm.
“You can talk. You’re the one who tells the media you hate people.”
“They want to impress me more then. Enough about me. Why are we here?” Pierre took her hand and kissed the back of it. “Why is such a beautiful, intelligent lady here with such a scoundrel?”
“Knock off the French act. I trust Sarah, so you’re good.”
“Oh thank fuck for that. I was running out of French words.” His voice became an all-American drawl.
Sarah stared at Pierre, and then at Brock, then back at Pierre. “What the hell?”
“Don’t worry, I do design the clothes. It’s why I never talk much, and they think I’m aloof and unfriendly.” Pierre laughed. “I just have no fucking clue what to say most of the time. Brock called me out and now he blackmails me with it any chance he gets.”
“That’s so unfair. But tonight I must say, I am pleased he did.”
“I never got any attention until I was ‘French.’ Then, my designs took off, and I’m not sure what would happen if it came out I wasn’t.”
“They’ll never hear it from me. I can assure you.”
“What can I do for you both?”
INDISPENSABLE: Part 2 Page 5