Pillow Chase

by Jeanie London

  “I know you and Laura have a past, but would I hurt your feelings if I said she’s gifted?”

  Miranda met his gaze and smiled. “Once upon a time you would have, but not anymore. I think Laura was on target when she said we’ve all behaved toward each other the way we’d been expected to behave. I don’t really know her. I never did. If she has a gift for creating fantasies, then I’ll just be grateful she’s sharing that gift with us.”

  After all the revelations on this visit home, Troy understood enough about her history with Laura to recognize what an admission this was for Miranda.

  “Me, too.” Lifting her hand to his mouth, he pressed a kiss to her knuckles, tasted the smooth skin there. “So here we are in a room filled with sex toys. Are you still so sure I’ll be the one begging?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “You do realize you’re challenging me.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” She stepped toward him, spanning the mere inches between them. His bold wife knew just what he wanted then. He recognized the flare of desire in her eyes, sensed in that moment that he’d accomplished mission objective by distracting her big-time.

  There was nothing between them except a growing erotic challenge. She wanted him to beg. He wanted her to beg. It was a potent combination. And with the variety of sex toys around them, he thought they both stood a good chance of getting what they wanted.

  Miranda slipped out of his arms in a playful move, leaving him feeling the sudden distance between them, but he didn’t complain. Not when she swept her curly mane over her shoulder and reached for her zipper.

  Troy braced himself for the show he sensed was about to begin, and Miranda didn’t disappoint him. She walked away with graceful strides, her bottom swaying gently. She treated him to the sight of her creamy skin as her summer dress parted then glided down her body bit by luscious bit.

  She’d dressed for a trip to the spa and their scheduled visit to the mud baths. Her dress was the easy-on-easy-off kind, and she wore no hose. So when the dress slithered into a puddle at her feet, she stood there in nothing more than a bra, thong and sandals, all gorgeous legs and sleek skin.

  Until she stepped out of the circle of fabric, and leaned over to grab her dress.

  His chest constricted around a breath as she bent over, giving him a glimpse of her heart-shaped bottom in all its curvy glory, her cheeks parting just enough to show him where that skinny silk strap of her thong was hiding.

  She’d been married to him long enough to know what the sight of her like this would do to him. Blood surged so hard to his crotch that he felt dizzy.

  Bracing himself against the table, Troy sucked in a deep breath, realizing how much trouble he was in and they hadn’t even gotten the first sheet on the bed.

  He reminded himself she would be the one begging today.

  “This is torture, Mrs. Knight.” The words scraped through his throat, proving he needed the reminder.

  “You want to see me naked, and I want to feel those sheets against my skin. That’s the only way I can tell which ones to put on the bed.”

  “Who knew housekeeping could be so erotic?” Not him for sure. “We need to remember this. If you’re naked, I’ll bet I won’t mind furniture shopping so much.”

  She chuckled and stood upright, a liquid motion that made her hair swing down her back in a fall of glossy curls. “They’ll have to deliver the furniture to the house because I won’t be undressing in the showroom.”

  “Not ready to explore an exhibition fetish?”

  “Nope. But I’m game to try out a few other fetishes while we have a private room filled with them.”

  “Do you know you made me the happiest man alive on our wedding day?”

  Her expression told him she’d needed the reassurance and took his words to heart. It vanished almost as quickly as it had come, and she flashed him a sultry smile.

  And unhooked her bra.

  He could see the full swell of breast as the white satin rode up, teasing him with visions of what her blushing nipples would look like if the fabric rode up just a little more.

  And it did. When she leaned over a table to inspect a table filled with bottles, tubes and jars, she revealed even more of her breast in profile, just enough of the creamy shape to tease him, the gesture seeming wildly erotic.

  “I’ve never seen so much…stuff.” She stood again holding a bottle up for his perusal. “Pleasure and Sizzle, a naughty nipple cream. Coochie Coo Shaving Gel, this one’s self-explanatory. Peter Butter? Can you imagine working for the companies that have to advertise this stuff? An interesting day on the job, I’d guess.” She chuckled. “Oh, here’s one. Happy Penis Lotion, an edible penis sensitizer. Oh, Lieutenant Commander, I bet you’d like that.”

  “I don’t need to be any more sensitive right now.” She was trying to tip the scales in her favor, but she wasn’t going to find him such an easy mark.

  If he could get a few brain cells functioning. Just the sight of Miranda in those strappy high heels with her legs silky and bare made it hard to think straight.

  His erection had grown rock hard, despite the seam cutting into his skin. He should loosen his pants—but with his blood pounding so hard, he thought it might hurt more to move.

  So he stayed put while Miranda cracked open the lid of a bottle and lifted it to her nose for a whiff.

  “Oh, I might like this one. ‘An edible stimulant in a delicious mango flavor,’” she read from the packaging. “You like fruit for breakfast.” Dabbing some on her finger, she brought it to her lips, leaving Troy to fixate on the way her pink tongue darted out for a taste.

  “Mmm.” She sucked her finger inside, mouth pursed, eyes smiling as she mimed an erotic motion that made him ache.

  Teasing him further, she withdrew her finger and held it up so he could see the moisture glistening on her skin. “Tasty. I wonder if this stuff works.” She shot him a bold look from beneath her lashes. “Only one way to find out.”

  And as Troy stood there, heart pounding so loud he thought his ears would explode, his crotch painfully testing the seam of his pants, she dribbled more on her finger and began an erotic dance of fingers over her skin…down, down, down toward the skimpy V of her thong.

  Her fingers disappeared beneath that scrap of silk and Troy stood transfixed as she touched herself, lingering caresses that made his chest constrict.

  “It’s slick.” She sounded thoughtful, and her hair swung forward to cover her face as she glanced between her thighs.

  He thought about joining her, about forcing his legs to move so he could feel some skin and ease this ache, but he wouldn’t stop this show. Not when Miranda had let her hair down in a big way and he had a glimpse of the woman he hadn’t seen in so long, the woman who’d withdrawn too far inside herself, the woman he wouldn’t let get away.

  “I think it’s getting warmer.” She sucked in a hissing breath. “Definitely warmer.”

  She rolled her finger around again, her mouth pursed around the sound of an “Oh!” He watched her knead that inviting place between her legs, her hips gently arching into each touch. He knew she’d caught a good spot because she made a sound that was half laugh, half gasp and lifted her gaze to his.

  He recognized the surprised pleasure in her expression and couldn’t wipe away his own stupid smile when her loose bra rode up just enough so a breast popped out.

  He finally got to see some nipple, the blushing peak puckered and tight as her breast swayed heavily with the motion. She was a vision with her hair curling behind her shoulders as she let her head drop back, her throat arching toward him, her body all sleek curves, one breast peeking out to tempt him, the other still hidden precariously in her bra.

  Miranda seemed determined to torture him as she played with herself, lazy circles that were making her skin flush—a sight that was damn near crippling him with arousal.

  “The tension’s building,” Troy ground out, his admission making her smile.

  “Is it?”
<
br />   He was gratified, and relieved, that she sounded nearly as needy. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this hot for you.”

  And that was saying a lot.

  Miranda obviously knew it, too, because she slid her hand from her panties, her fingers leaving a trail of moisture along her smooth skin.

  “Shall we get on with our choosing then?”

  “I can’t move,” he admitted.

  Her eyes popped open and she looked at him. “Why not?”

  “My dick is so hard it’ll break.”

  With a laugh, she pushed away from the table and made a move toward him. “My poor husband.”

  He held out his hand. “Don’t come any closer or I’m going to attack you right now and lose this game.”

  She sidestepped him, and moved just out of reach, sliding the bra down her arms. “That’s exactly what I want, Lieutenant Commander. Just let go. I’ll satisfy you.”

  His few working brain cells registered that she didn’t agree to make love to him. She’d satisfy him. And that served as enough of a reminder to reclaim a little of his control. Forcing himself to move, he suffered the pressure from that damned seam.

  She sent the bra whizzing past his head. It landed on the table behind him, spread out over packages of Incredible Edibles.

  “Do you really think you can resist, Lieutenant Commander?”

  Not if she kept firing salvos like this, and he didn’t even mind. “Oh, I can resist. Want to up the stakes and bet me?”

  She considered him thoughtfully, and he liked the way she rose to his challenge, clearly empowered by her desire and her certainty that she’d win this bet. “Okay, but let’s wager something good. Why don’t we play Chain of Command? The winner gets to be in charge.”

  This was a game they’d played before, and a rather fond memory of a time he’d arrived home from duty to find Miranda stretched out on their new couch wearing nothing but his dress hat and a salute replayed in his mind to torture him some more.

  She’d been in command that time, and the memory nearly made his brain melt.

  “Just think about being in command of all these sexy goodies.” She swept her hand around the room. “I’ve already seen some things I’d command you to use.”

  “Really? Like what.”

  With a few slinky strides, she headed toward a table that housed a variety of dildos and vibrators, including the dual temperature number.

  Locating a small golden one from the table, she held it up. Not much more than three inches tall, it seemed rather innocuous from where he stood.

  “You want me to use that on you?” he asked.

  Turning the dildo in her hand, she considered it carefully. “This is the Plug of Kings. I want to use it on you.”

  Damned if he didn’t realize exactly what that innocuous looking thing was just then, and there was nothing innocuous about where she wanted to stick it.

  “I’ve always thought of myself as an accommodating husband,” he said, sobering up a bit. “Guess I was wrong.”

  With a laugh, she replaced the offensive device back on the table. “If you win, you’ll get to pick. Unless you’re squeamish? Would you rather bet something else?”

  At the moment Miranda stood a much better chance of outlasting him, and he’d wind up finding out what it felt like to be on the receiving end of a sex toy he’d rather not make the acquaintance of.

  So he didn’t answer, just watched her pause in front of the sheets to finger the various fabrics. He finally forced himself to move, willing the activity to lessen the physical effects of his nearly naked wife. Sidestepping her, he flung open the doors to the oasis, filling the room with the bubbling sounds of water, the smooth strains of exotic music.

  Inhaling the scented air, he commanded his body to relax—no easy job with Miranda still putting on a show.

  And this was a show designed to bring him to his knees. He watched as she lifted the corner of a shiny pink sheet and dragged it along her arm, testing the fabric against her skin.

  Then she unfolded a sheet that looked like a faux version of a bearskin rug, bundled it against her, and buried her breasts in the plush faux fur.

  And made his crotch ache in the process.

  A condition he’d willingly endure. Miranda was finally venturing out from behind her careful persona and that was exactly what he wanted. He’d missed her, but he’d never realized how much until he saw her relaxed again.

  “Like that one?” He could be an accommodating husband after all. So when she lifted her blue gaze to his and nodded, he said, “I’ll take your bet. No sweat.”

  “Unless I win, hmm?” She sounded sassy.

  “I can handle whatever you have in mind.”

  No question. There wasn’t anything he’d rather do than help his beautiful wife learn to believe in how good they were together.

  And besides, Troy planned to win. He’d been maneuvering behind Miranda’s back, with his mom and Laura, and he wasn’t crazy enough to forget it. When she found out, it wouldn’t hurt him to have some leverage.

  Now, he just had to control himself.

  12

  “YOU CAN HANDLE WHATEVER I have in mind, Lieutenant Commander?” Miranda asked. “Even the Plug of Kings?”

  She wanted to know. She needed to know. She wasn’t ready to give up the control of her game yet. And with that thought, the heat of her arousal drained away, leaving her standing there feeling naked and cold.

  And thinking, damn it.

  Sheer stubbornness made her unfold the Polar Bear Pack sheet set, snuggle against the pristine faux fur and close her eyes. She’d taken her first step today toward changing the things that weren’t working for her, and that change felt positive, empowering. She wasn’t running or hiding from her emotions anymore. She would face the consequences of her choices, face her grandfather, to get what she considered important in life—being close to her husband and her family.

  Witchy wives meant nothing. When she got down to it, confrontations, public opinion and long-term family rifts didn’t matter much, either.

  Her handsome husband and her family did.

  She wasn’t running and hiding from vanishing orgasms, either. She refused to let doubts and uncertainty spoil her foreplay, too. She wouldn’t try to distract Troy. She wouldn’t back down from this problem again.

  Not ever.

  If another orgasm vanished, she wouldn’t feel bad about herself, wouldn’t let it become a big deal. Yes, it was another calculated risk, but one she would willingly take. After the way Troy had looked at the Plug of Kings, she knew he had a lot more at stake right now than she did.

  “So what gives?” she asked, pleased to sound so confident, so in control. “I thought you weren’t crazy about my choice of sex toys?”

  Glancing up, she expected to find him still standing in the doorway to the oasis, but suddenly he was behind her, his hands slipping around her, anchoring her against him.

  “Troy!” She gave a breathless laugh as his hard body surrounded her, all lean muscle and powerful male, a rock-hard erection nestling against her lower back. He cradled her against him, buried his face in her hair.

  Then he threaded strong fingers along her ribs as he reached up to cup her breasts, and Miranda shuddered at his touch, the way he weighed their fullness with oh-so-erotic care.

  Heat spiraled inside, white-hot tendrils that warmed her, chasing away her chill until it was no more than a memory to be brushed aside. Rising up on tiptoes, she pressed herself further into his hands, rocked back against him.

  “I plan to win our bet,” he told her.

  Reaching her hand between them, she slid her fingers over that impressive bulge and gave a meaningful squeeze, and was rewarded when he pressed against her hungrily. “Me, too.”

  “I won’t make love to you until you beg me, Miranda.”

  His confidence challenged her. “You sound pretty sure for a man with this in his pants.”

  “I am.” He swirled his tongu
e into the shell of her ear, one hot stroke that trickled deep into all her needy places.

  She could feel him everywhere. His hard thighs braced behind hers. His broad chest a haven to sink back into as he fondled her breasts with idle strokes that made her content to stand here all day.

  “This is your game, remember?” he said.

  Oh, she remembered all right. Whether he teased or tortured, her tension was building, until his most glancing touches flared her need like wildfire. She felt more challenged than she ever had, eager to meet her handsome husband move for sexy move, to prove she could give as good as she got.

  She liked this feeling of abandon when she shed the weight of her worries, when she let herself act without censoring her every move and its potential consequence. And what better place to explore this phenomenon than in Troy’s arms?

  Miranda couldn’t think of any better place, and when he ground that erection between her cheeks again and gave a groan of a dying man, she smiled, deciding to bring her handsome husband to his figurative knees in bed.

  They’d see who would be reduced to begging.

  Arching her back, she leaned into the stroke, riding that bump so hard she could feel it swell through his pants. But her triumph was short-lived because without warning, his fingers slipped from beneath her breasts to pluck at her nipples.

  Fire jolted through her, and she nearly lost her grip on the faux fur sheet.

  “You like that,” he said.

  The question didn’t need an answer because Troy knew she did. She exhaled a gasp. Her nipples speared greedily toward his fingers. Her hips rocked against him instinctively, seeking the friction to feed this ache inside.

  Here was one of those times when Troy knew her body better than she did herself. He added his kisses to the game, kept up that steady tweaking and twisting that overrode any desire to stay cool and not let him see how much he affected her.

  Holding up the Polar Bear Pack sheets, Miranda willed herself to relax, stepped away and turned around to face him. “I choose these.”

  He peered down at her with those striking green eyes, a gaze that became a caress. The sheets flowed to the floor, partially covering her, yet even so, her thong and sandals felt like nothing beneath the hunger flaring in his expression, the loving tenderness in his eyes. She felt naked before his fully clothed self, naked and oh-so loved.