Secret Blend (Bourbon Springs Book 1)

by Jennifer Bramseth

“Brady…” she whispered, and her head fell back as she gave herself to him.

  He gently kneaded her breasts and lowered his mouth to hers. Her lips were parted and waiting for him, inviting him.

  Rachel felt nearly paralyzed by the intense pleasure Brady’s hands and mouth brought her. It was just like in the evidence vault, and there she’d only gotten a small sampling of how easily this man could make her feel so wonderful. Now she was in the pool with literally nothing between them except water. If she let him take her in the pool—and she really wouldn’t mind if he did—she wasn’t sure her legs would support her. Brady would have to hold her up because his ministrations had already weakened her nearly to the point of collapse.

  And he hadn’t even touched her most sensitive parts.

  As if he could read her mind, Brady’s right hand began to draw lower along her body, caressing her torso and hips as he explored her curves. When Brady cupped her, Rachel broke away from his kiss and gasped. He moved his lips to her neck and, finally, a breast, and she cried out as he began to gently suck and tease her nipple. When Brady slipped his fingers between her soft folds, she wound her fingers into his dark hair as he slowly, languidly, torturously explored her sensitive flesh. When his thumb found her clit and he began to rub in slow circles, Rachel cried out his name and instinctively tried to wrap a leg around his waist.

  “Wait,” Brady said, and stopped stroking her. One of his hands came down on the leg she had tried to move around him, leaving her breathless, frustrated, and confused.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Rachel, I don’t have—I can’t—”

  Squinting at him in determination, she reached down and claimed his erection, causing him to start.

  “Oh, I think you can, Brady. No problem here.”

  “Well, there is,” he mumbled. “I don’t have a condom.”

  She smiled, released him, and brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. “Now's the time to tell you I’m on the pill,” she revealed. “But I understand if you want to use a condom. I have some inside.”

  She saw the momentary flash of shock and doubt move across his face, and it amused her.

  “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

  “And what am I thinking?” he challenged, pulling her close. Their bodies pressed against each other and his erection dug into her upper thigh.

  “Right now you’re wondering why I have them, fretting that I must have frequent use for them if I’ve got 'em around. Am I right?”

  “Rachel, I didn’t—”

  She held up a hand with the fingers and thumb all splayed out. “Five years. I haven’t been with anyone in five years.”

  “You? That long?”

  “Surprised?”

  “Considering how totally hot you are, yeah, I’m shocked.”

  She gave him a throaty laugh. “And I’ve been tested since that time. No problems.”

  “Same here,” he said. “And–it’s been about as long for me. But why do you have the condoms?” he asked, reminding her how good a lawyer he was. He kept asking questions, not satisfied by the answers he received.

  “Are you taking me as a hostile witness on direct or is this cross-examination?” she taunted, nudging him with her hip.

  “Sorry,” he said sheepishly.

  “I got them at a health insurance fair about a year ago. You know, where they give out free stuff, like pens, samples, travel-sized items.”

  “And condoms?”

  She shrugged. “They were in a bag full of goodies. I thought I was only getting a little stash of travel-sized toothpastes and lotions, maybe a pen and a tube of lip balm. But when I got home, there they were in the bottom of the bag.”

  “And you kept them?”

  He still sounded skeptical, but she wasn’t offended. Rachel sensed that the thought of her with someone else bothered him, and she relished the latent jealousy his question revealed.

  “Yes,” she said in a whisper. She put her hands on the back of his neck and began to pull him to her. “I kept them for when the right guy finally showed up.”

  “Am I that guy?” he dared to ask after several long seconds.

  “You’ve always been that guy, Brady Craft,” she confessed in a firm voice.

  The ensuing kiss was tender, not frenzied or lust-driven. He moved his lips along her cheek to her neck, where his tongue traced a line from her earlobe to the tip of her shoulder and back again. He steadied her with one arm wrapped around her waist while his other hand once more teased her clit, gently stroking her most delicate place in circles. Rachel thrust her hips onto his hand and managed to moan his name when she wasn’t panting. She felt so overcome with sensation that she thought she might faint.

  He kissed her lips and continued the sweet torture with his thumb as he looked directly at her.

  “Before I get my chance to feel what it’s like to be inside you, should you give me that privilege tonight,” he said as his eyes searched her face, “I’m going to do my best make sure you’re satisfied first.”

  Rachel tried to respond, to say something, but the spell of overwhelming desire had stripped her of the ability to speak. Without interrupting the increasing pressure on her clit, Brady slipped one finger inside her and she gripped his shoulders tightly as she started to feel the mounting tension between her legs. Brady moved two fingers into her and began to increase the rapidity of his strokes to her nub, causing Rachel to cry out as her breaths came in heaving gasps. She could feel herself tightening around him in little shudders and tremors when he slipped in a third finger. Rachel ground her hips against his hand as she moved closer and closer to her peak.

  Rachel knew she was either going to come hard or pass out, perhaps both. She prayed Brady could whip her into a shuddering climax before she lost consciousness completely.

  “Rach, look at me.”

  The combination of his intense gaze, his words, and the almost-magical abilities of his hand shattered her and sent Rachel spiraling over the edge into spasms of delight as the waves of her orgasm washed over and rocked her body. She screamed his name into the night, her voice echoing across her backyard.

  Brady held her tightly by the waist as she came. She’d been gripping his shoulders to steady herself as best she could, but as she came down from one of the most intense climaxes of her life, Rachel’s grip slackened and her hands slid down the sides of his arms. Her knees buckled as her body relaxed, and Brady slipped his hand out of her and enveloped her in his embrace. Quivering, her face fell onto his chest, while her arms loosely encircled Brady’s waist. He kissed the top of her head, and Rachel’s head fell back as she gazed up at him, her eyes half-closed and her mouth a bit open.

  “It’s a good thing you live out in the middle of nowhere if you scream like that,” he joked. “Wouldn’t have thought you were a screamer.”

  For several seconds, she breathed heavily as she gathered her strength and her thoughts.

  “I’m not. Well, I wasn’t. No man has ever made me scream like that,” she whispered. “Until tonight.”

  Silence engulfed them and they locked eyes.

  Chapter 14

  Feeling the return of some strength, Rachel removed her arms from his waist and began to drift away from Brady and toward the stairs leading out of the pool. The water rushed off her body and crashed to the concrete as she slowly ascended to the patio.

  “Where are you going?” he asked as Rachel picked up the towel and began to rub herself dry.

  Her back still to him, she looked over her shoulder. “To take a shower.”

  “May I join you?”

  Rachel began to walk away. “I thought the invitation was implied.”

  Brady walked over to the pool stairs and pulled himself from the water. It was the first time that Rachel had seen Brady completely nude without the water as a barrier, and she stopped drying herself and admired his body. His broad, wet chest glowed in the low light and his cock was bigger than she had sensed in the poo
l. Rachel threw him the towel, and he hurriedly dried himself while she lingered and continued to watch him appreciatively.

  They both needed a shower to wash off the chlorine and she knew he needed release; a shower would get both jobs done. Rachel wanted to return the favor and make him feel just as wonderful as he had made her feel, but there was the more practical aspect of her plan. When they at last fell into bed together and he was inside her, she wanted to make sure he lasted more than a nanosecond.

  Rachel took Brady’s hand after he tossed the towel on a chair and led him to a set of French doors which opened into her bedroom. It was dark, with the only light emanating from the bathroom at the far end of the room.

  “Sorry about the mess,” Rachel apologized when they reached the bathroom, and bent to pick up a few pieces of clothing from the floor.

  “Damn, Rachel,” he hissed as he took in a long breath.

  “Huh?” She straightened. “Oh—gave you quite the view there, didn’t I?”

  “Yes,” he sighed, and she saw him steal a glance at the small collection of clothing she held.

  Rachel started to dump all the dirty clothing into a hamper next to the toilet when he snatched something from her hands—a pair of very lacy pink panties.

  “Hey! Trying to get a souvenir?”

  “I won’t need a souvenir to remember this night,” he said.

  “And I’m going to make sure of that.” She dumped the clothes and then reached to turn on the water in the tub shower. “But I do want my undies back,” she said, pointing to them.

  Brady held them up. “Someday, I want the chance to peel these off you,” he said, tossing them into the hamper. “I didn’t get the chance tonight.”

  “Funny, I didn’t hear you complaining about that lost opportunity when I dropped my towel,” she shot back, smiling.

  Within the next minute they were both standing under the showerhead with warm, steamy water cascading over them as they held each other, kissing and exploring the other’s body. When Rachel reached for a bar of soap, Brady’s hands found a breast and the still-tingling flesh between her legs. The sensation of being touched down there was too much for her so soon after climaxing, and the soap slipped out of her hands. Brady apologized as he picked up the soap.

  “Don’t say sorry,” she admonished. “I love feeling this way and knowing you did it to me.”

  “And there’s a lot more I want to do to you tonight,” he growled. Brady bent to kiss Rachel’s neck and traced his tongue along the small gold chain she wore.

  “I know,” she whispered and reluctantly pulled away from his attentive mouth. “And that’s why I want to give you the kind of attention you gave me in the pool.”

  Brady watched silently while Rachel took the bar of soap and worked up a lather with her hands and a natural sponge. She placed the sudsy sponge and her equally-sudsy digits on Brady’s broad, tense chest, and moved up to his neck and down his arms. Rachel felt like she was frosting a big, erogenous hunk of beefcake and enjoyed every second of it.

  As she continued to slather him, Brady shuddered, sighed, and his head fell back. He reached for her hips and drew her close to him.

  “I’ve never taken a shower with a woman before,” he admitted in a rough voice, his eyes still closed.

  “So no other woman has ever touched you like this?” she asked in a lightly teasing voice as she moved behind him and lathered his back, his buttocks, and legs. The knowledge that she was the first to touch him this way was intensely arousing and empowering.

  He pulled his head up and gazed at her. “No other,” he said in a choked voice.

  “I like being the first.”

  “I want more firsts with you, Rachel,” he confessed, licking his lips and closing his eyes again as her hands and the sponge traveled over his body.

  “Good,” she said, “because we’re going to have more of those tonight.”

  When she was done, and as the shower spray washed away the remaining soap from the front of Brady’s body, Rachel pressed herself against his back. She wrapped her arms around him and flattened her palms just below his waist and slightly above the dark curly hair surrounding his shaft.

  “Rachel…”

  “Tell me what you want me to do, Brady,” she whispered and applied more pressure with her palms. She held herself against his back, with her cheek resting between his shoulder blades.

  “Touch me,” he groaned. She complied, sliding one hand to his erection and cradling his balls with the other. “Oh, God,” he sighed as she stroked him.

  Rachel knew he wouldn’t last long. She trailed a finger along the underside of his hardness, making him groan and grit his teeth.

  “Please, Rachel,” he pleaded.

  “Of course,” she promised, and kissed the back of his shoulders.

  Moving one hand to his nipple, Rachel used the other to stroke him. He put one hand flat against the tub wall to steady himself and with the other he reached around and gripped the side of her leg.

  She didn’t know how many times she slid her hand up and down his length, but it couldn’t have been more than four or five movements before it happened. Brady’s whole body became stiff against her, and he convulsed and screamed Rachel’s name as he came. She continued to pump him through his orgasm until he took the hand he’d placed on her leg and wrapped it around her wrist, signaling her to stop.

  He breathed heavily, his shoulders hunched. Rachel grabbed the arm Brady still held up against the tub wall, brought it down, and turned him to face her.

  “Thank you."

  “Just a preview," she said, and kissed him.

  Brady asked whether he could wash her body and hair, and she happily agreed, knowing she’d enjoy it and that he had a mild fetish about her hair. Rachel thoroughly relished the experience and emitted happy little noises as Brady’s fingers massaged her scalp. When she turned her back to the spray and washed the shampoo from her hair, Brady gave her a long, searching kiss that ended with his fingers gently stroking and probing her soft folds. Although surprised and still sensitive from her orgasm in the pool, Rachel didn’t pull away. She was wet and more than ready to take him, and he was already hard again.

  They emerged from the shower and dried each other off with oversized white towels. Then Brady took Rachel’s hand and led her from the room.

  “Wait,” she said, scurrying back into the bathroom.

  With Brady in the bedroom, she opened the cabinet below the bathroom sink and rummaged in its depths. She emerged with a small plastic bag, pulled three or four small square packets from it, and then tossed them on her bedside table.

  “The goody bag?” he asked.

  “The very thing.” She turned to throw the bag and its remaining contents onto the bathroom floor.

  This was it.

  They stood facing each other, and Rachel felt suddenly and ridiculously shy. Her memory flashed back to earlier in the day when Brady had arrived at her house. They’d both stood briefly in the foyer, nervously eying the other. She smiled at the recollection. Neither had suspected the pleasures waiting to be experienced at the hands of the other by the end of the day.

  Momentarily moving her face from Brady’s gaze, Rachel threw back the covers on the bed and turned to face him. Brady cradled her face in his hands and gazed at her as his thumbs stroked her cheeks.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” he admitted.

  “Then let me make you a believer.” She kissed him and dropped onto the bed.

  Brady positioned himself at Rachel’s side by propping himself up on an elbow and placing a hand on her hip. His eyes ravished her body as she reached up and caressed his unshaven cheek, his face hovering above hers and their breaths mingling in the small space between. He bent as though to kiss her, but stopped just before their lips touched.

  “Tell me what you want. I’m yours.”

  She grinned, reached for his hand on her hip, and moved it to her breast.

  “Start h
ere and work your way down,” she said, rolling onto her back.

  He eagerly took her suggestion. With a hand remaining on one breast, he lowered his mouth to the other and gave it a light kiss. His tongue flicked the tiny tip, causing Rachel to pull his head closer to her.

  Brady needed no further instruction as his mouth devoured her nipples. Her cries of pleasure seemed to urge him on, and she arched her back under his maddeningly sensual touch. His large, strong hands stroked her hips and her stomach, and, keeping his mouth on one of her breasts, he slowly moved one hand toward her sensitive center. He trailed kisses from her breast down her stomach until his tongue found her navel and lingered there, drawing circles around the spot.

  Rachel was out of her mind with desire. It had been over five years since she’d been with a guy, and that remote experience paled in comparison to how Brady made her feel. Her every nerve and pore was sensitive, alive, and craving his touch.

  Brady moved lower, dragging his tongue in a line from her navel to the top of her mound. She looked down and saw him smile before he placed his hands on her knees and gently pushed them apart.

  She fell back onto the pillow. “Oh, God,” she whispered.

  “Wow,” Brady said, placing a tiny kiss on her glistening folds. “I haven’t even gotten started and you’re saying that.” She felt his thumbs gently massaging the tender skin of her upper thighs.

  “Brady…” she groaned.

  In the next moment, his mouth was upon her.

  Brady dragged his tongue up and down her slick center, increasing in speed and pressure. Rachel’s hips bucked and Brady stilled her grinding movements by splaying his hands wide on her inner thighs. His mouth found her clit, and he instigated a leisurely, sweet agony for her as he drew his tongue in circles around the very tip, and then started to flick and suck.

  She wanted to scream, but couldn’t. Rachel grabbed his head and buried her fingers in his thick, dark hair.

  Brady kept sucking and put one finger inside her, then two.

  “Brady…no…not yet…” she panted.

  He removed his fingers and flicked her clit again with his tongue. “You want me inside you when you come again?” he asked. “Is that what you’re trying to tell me, Rach?”