A Lover's Vow

by Brenda Jackson

  Grasping hold of her thighs, he slid his tongue inside of her, sank his mouth into her deep, locking it in place over her feminine mound. What made him want her so much? Was it this? Her taste? Or the way her body fit so perfectly with his when they made love? And when had he begun thinking that fucking a woman had anything to do with love? But he closed his eyes, deciding he didn’t want to think anymore, that he just wanted to savor this, relish her in a way he’d never appreciated another woman. He moaned as his tongue continued to lap her up, lick and taste a mouthful of her as if he couldn’t get enough.

  And when he felt her thighs begin to tremble, felt her hands dig deep into his scalp and heard the initial sound of a woman about to come, he latched his mouth on to her even tighter, shoving his tongue deeper and moving it in a circular motion right against her G-spot, until she screamed his name. Over and over again.

  “Dalton...”

  When he felt the last spasm retreat from her body, he pulled his mouth away and got to his feet to sweep her into his arms. He needed her in his bed. Now.

  Moving through the living room, he quickly headed to his bedroom and tumbled down on the bed with her, only to sprint back to his feet and start tearing away at his clothes while staring down at her. And there she lay, staring back at him with firm breasts and those pointed nipples he loved to lick, a navel that he loved to kiss and the area between her legs that he loved to taste. And naked except for her boots.

  “You’re ready, I see,” she said after he removed his slacks and briefs.

  Yes, he was ready, and his erection was letting her know it. “For you, always.”

  His lips tightened at the words he’d just said. There had never been an always with any woman. Why was she different? At that moment he wasn’t sure—he just knew she was. The only thing he was sure about was that he had to get inside her. His shaft was throbbing, not just for release but also for her. He reached into his nightstand and pulled out a condom packet. Opening it with his teeth, he sheathed himself while she watched.

  When she began removing her boots, he said huskily, “Leave them on.”

  He held her gaze steady when he moved closer to the bed. “I want your back to me, Jules.”

  Without saying a word, she twisted her position and turned around, tilting her rump to him. Mercy. He joined her on the bed, grabbed hold of her hips and thrust hard inside her, going to the hilt in one single plunge. He growled and threw his neck back, feeling the muscles in his throat almost pop. When he began moving, his thrusts were fast and hard while his hands held her in a firm grip. The sound of flesh slapping flesh and the feel of his testicles hitting against her backside were sending him over the edge, but he refused to take the dive without her.

  He felt her first signs of an orgasm when her buttocks began shaking like a volcano, and he continued to pump inside her as she screamed his name, releasing the same pent-up passion he’d endured for the past week.

  And then his body exploded, sensations ripped through him, seemingly tearing him into pieces, making his heart pound in a way it had never pounded before. It was as if, for the first time ever, he had found something that was...his.

  He pushed that thought to the back of his mind, not ready to deal with such thoughts now of all times. When it came to women, he didn’t get possessive. He didn’t...

  “Dalton...”

  She whispered his name, breaking through the clouds suffocating his mind. And he turned her around to him; he stared at her and felt his heart begin pounding even more. And that was when he leaned in, cupped her face in his hand, whispered her name and kissed her. Hard. Needing this kiss the same way he’d needed to connect his body with hers earlier. He should regain control, but at the moment all he could do was continue to lose it. He would deal with the reason why later. For now, he needed this.

  He needed her.

  Thirty-One

  Jules nudged Dalton awake and looked down at him. “What’s for breakfast?”

  He slowly opened one drowsy eye and then two before staring at her as if she were an apparition. “Jules?”

  “Yes, that’s the name I prefer going by,” she said, glancing around his bedroom. “Nice place, Dalton, although you should think about adding more pictures on your walls.” She looked back down at him. “Now, what’s for breakfast?”

  He rubbed a hand down his face. “You stayed the night?”

  She thought that was a dumb question. “No, I showed up this morning naked. Stonewall let me in, and I found you here in bed naked, with several opened condom packets on your nightstand. Looks like you had a wild night.”

  “Smart-ass,” he muttered.

  “What did you say?” she asked, leaning down toward him, her hair falling in his face. “Could you repeat that? I’m sure I misunderstood what you said just now.”

  Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed her around the waist, flipped her on her back and then hovered over her. Now it was him looking down at her. “Did I invite you to stay last night?” he asked, like the very thought of such a thing was foreign to him.

  “No, I forced myself on you. Hid my clothes and locked us in here.”

  “Jules...don’t play with me,” he said in a warning tone, leaning toward her.

  She stared up into his face. Although he still had that drowsy look, his jaw had tightened, and his eyes were like steel. What in the world was wrong with him? She’d heard about not being a morning person, but this was kind of ridiculous. She used her arms to shove him back, not caring that he almost tumbled off the bed. “And don’t you play with me,” she said in the same warning tone.

  Pulling herself up, she pushed her hair back from her face and glared at him. “What is wrong with you, Dalton?” she snapped.

  He rubbed a hand down his face. “Nothing.” Her question seemed to slap him out of whatever stinky mood he was in. “It’s just that...”

  When he didn’t finish what he was about to say, she inched closer to him. “What?”

  “I’m not used to this.”

  “You’re not used to what?”

  He shrugged. “Waking up and finding a woman in my bed.”

  Jules’s eyes narrowed. “Just to set the record straight, you didn’t find me here, you put me here. In your bed. Leather boots and all. And except for the few times I demanded a potty break, you’ve pretty much kept me here.”

  His voice actually made the sound of a growl. “Do you have to be so damned sassy?”

  “And do you have to be so damned arrogant?”

  Jules stared into his eyes and saw beyond the moodiness and confusion. She saw nervousness. A high level of discomfort. Why? “I’m going to ask you for the third time, Dalton. What’s wrong with you? Why are you so tense?”

  “And I told you,” he said, moving to lie down in the bed beside her to stare up at the ceiling. “I am not used to waking up...with a woman in my bed.”

  “If I recall, you woke up with me in your bed several mornings in Miami.”

  “That wasn’t my bed. It was the hotel’s bed. No women spend the night in my bed.”

  She frowned over at him while stretching and hated to admit that his bed slept a whole lot better than hers. “So what happens to them? They sneak out on you before sunrise?” Although she asked, she couldn’t imagine such a thing happening.

  “No. I have this rule. No woman sleeps in my bed.”

  She froze. “So where do they sleep when the two of you get together?”

  He shrugged again. “Their own bed. A hotel room. But definitely not here.”

  She stared at him. “Let me get this straight. Are you saying that you don’t have a problem sleeping in their bed, but you have a rule against them sleeping in yours?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  She smiled. “Then I’m glad
I made you break that rule. Of all the idiotic things I’ve ever heard. That’s being downright selfish.”

  “No, that’s being smart.”

  “Then I guess you were pretty damned dumb last night, huh?”

  She saw the flash of fire that swept into his eyes but wasn’t fast enough to get out of his way. She tried sprinting from the bed, but he caught her around the waist and tugged her back. “I need to do something about your sassiness,” he snarled.

  “And I need to do something about your arrogance,” she snarled back.

  They stared long and hard at each other, and then it suddenly occurred to them that their breathing pattern had changed. They were breathing out a different kind of fire. Not one of anger, but one of desire. Jules wasn’t sure who made the first move, and she didn’t care. All she knew was that suddenly her back was on the mattress, and his hands were touching her everywhere. His mouth followed as his teeth raked across the skin his hands had stroked.

  She sucked in a shallow breath. His touch was filling her with a longing she had never imagined. Her entire body tingled with awareness, and shivers escalated down her spine.

  “You never said whether or not you missed me, Jules,” he said, his voice feeling like corn silk on her skin. He had paused from sucking on one of her nipples, but his hands were still planted firmly between her legs.

  “Didn’t I?” she asked, barely getting the words out.

  “No, you didn’t. And I think I sufficiently proved how much I missed you last night.”

  Yes, he had. Almost too much. And in the most raw, sexual way. Primitive at its best. All last night and the early part of this morning. Before daybreak. “I owe you.”

  “And don’t think I won’t collect.”

  He used his knees to spread her thighs and a moan escaped from her lips when he entered her, pushing his engorged shaft inside her to the hilt. And he looked down at her, laced his fingers with hers when he began riding her hard. He established a rhythm. She didn’t know the lyrics, but she understood the melody each and every time his hips slammed down into hers. They were making music, composing a song. One that would blow up the charts. It had a crazy beat and an intense tune.

  She needed to lose herself in this particular song, and he was making it happen with each and every stroke. Strumming her like a guitar. Beating down on her like drums. Playing her like a finely tuned piano. And when her body exploded at the same time his did, she felt she was experiencing more than sensuous music. Dalton had played the entire song using every single instrument.

  And moments later when he moved his weight off her and pulled her gently into his arms, kissing the side of her flushed cheeks, she felt drained, exhausted but pleasured in every inch of her body.

  * * *

  Jules woke up an hour or so later to find Dalton staring down at her with tension in his face. This time was worse than before. “I hope you’re on the Pill.”

  She wiped sleep from her eyes and yawned. “And if I’m not?”

  Dalton frowned. “Please say that you are.”

  “Why, aren’t you ready to become a daddy?”

  “Jules...”

  “Okay, I’m on the Pill. What happened? Broke another rule?”

  “Yes,” he said grudgingly, lying back down and staring up at the ceiling fan over his bed and feeling as though his entire effing mind was about to detonate. How had he let this happen? Unprotected sex. A woman spending the night in his bed. Jeez.

  No woman had gotten laid in his bed, had ever been invited to his house, not even for a quickie. He didn’t give out his address and rarely gave out his phone number. For him, most encounters were one and done, pound and gone. He might take someone out to dinner and then to a hotel, or to her place if he was invited, but that was as far as it went.

  Maybe if he were to go back to sleep and wake up, it would all be a bad dream. But deep down, he knew there was nothing bad about what he’d experienced with Jules...except the unprotected sex part.

  “Well, I’m on the Pill, and I don’t have a cold.”

  He glanced over at her. “What the hell does a cold have to do with anything?”

  “Plenty. How do you think Shana got pregnant? She and Jace were using protection, but Shana was taking antibiotics, so her Pill didn’t work.”

  Dalton rolled his eyes. “Oh, is that what happened?”

  “Yes. Didn’t Jace tell you anything about it?”

  “He told me she was pregnant and, trust me, that was enough.”

  “Now you see how accidents can happen,” she said, easing out of bed.

  Dalton tried not to notice her naked body when his shaft began throbbing again. “Not an accident. Carelessness.”

  “Doesn’t matter—it wasn’t intentional. Like I’m sure if something goes wrong and I end up pregnant, I won’t blame you.” She smiled over at him. “I will at first, but then I’ll get over it.”

  He sprinted from the bed and grabbed for her, but this time she was too quick and slammed the bathroom door before he could reach her. In a way, he was glad. He needed the solitude to think...bash his head against the bedpost a few times. To figure out what in the hell was happening to him. Breaking one rule was bad enough, but then a second? Both in the same night and with the same woman. Shit. How crazy could one man get?

  She cracked open the door and poked her head out. “Hey, why don’t you have extra toiletries in your bathroom, just in case you have an overnight guest or something?”

  Dalton drew in a deep breath. Hadn’t he told her he didn’t have overnight guests? “Because I don’t. Sue me.”

  “Lucky for you, I keep a little overnight bag in the trunk of my car. You never know when I might have to take a flight at the last minute. Would you be so kind as to go out to my car and get it? I would go, but I don’t want Stonewall to see me naked.”

  Hell, he didn’t want Stonewall to see her naked, either. “Fine. Where are your car keys?”

  “In my purse. I think it’s still at your front door where you made me drop it.” She pulled her head back into the bathroom and closed the door.

  He got up and grabbed his bathrobe off the back of a chair, glancing at the clock on his nightstand. Shit. That time couldn’t be right. He slid his feet into his bedroom shoes. “Jules, it’s almost eleven o’clock,” he called out to her, hoping she’d heard him through the closed door.

  She opened the door and poked her head out again. He could hear the shower going. “I know, and today is when we’re meeting with your father’s attorney. At two. I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday.”

  Her eating schedule was the last thing on his mind. Jace and Caden were probably wondering where he was. Why he hadn’t come into the office today. It was a wonder they hadn’t called.

  He moved quickly through his living room and found her purse right where she had dropped it. He remembered he hadn’t given her time last night to get inside the door before he was all over her. The memories of taking her against the door sent ripples of pleasure through him.

  He opened the front door and peeped out. The parking lot of his condo appeared almost empty, with most people away at work. The only cars were his, Stonewall’s and Jules’s.

  Stonewall. Of all the times he wished he didn’t have a bodyguard, today was it. Stonewall’s windows were up, and since they were tinted, he had no idea whether the man was awake or napping. Hopefully, Stonewall wouldn’t notice him. Tightening his bathrobe against the biting cold, he walked past Stonewall’s vehicle, opened Jules’s trunk and grabbed the overnight bag.

  He thought he had made it without being noticed when Stonewall rolled the window down, looked over at him and smiled. “Morning, Dalton. Sleep well?” Dalton ignored the man and kept walking until he was back inside his condo and then slammed the door shut.

  “Dalton, I
need my stuff,” Jules called from the bathroom. “We have less than three hours to make that meeting, and I have to go home, change clothes and grab something to eat.”

  He walked back to his bedroom and knocked on the bathroom door. He barely heard her above the shower as she called, “Just leave the bag on the vanity.”

  He opened the door and was about to do just that when he saw her in the shower through the glass door. They had showered together in Miami. So why was seeing her in his shower, using his water and his soap causing such a possessive reaction from him? Why was he thinking that everything in this place was his...including her?

  He placed the bag on top of the vanity and slid out of his robe. Surprise shone on Jules’s face when he snatched open the shower door and stepped in. She backed up. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “About to take you in my shower,” he said directly, reaching out and pulling her to him.

  She placed her wet hands on his chest. “We don’t have time.”

  He pushed her back against the shower wall and lifted her hips as she wrapped her legs around his waist, the water spraying down on them. “We’re going to make time.”

  Thirty-Two

  They were late. Not much, but late, nonetheless. And when they walked in together, all eyes turned their way. “Sorry I’m late,” Jules said, sliding into one of the first empty seats she saw.

  Leaving me to fend for myself, Dalton thought. “Sorry I’m late, as well.” And because he figured there was speculation circling around the room because he and Jules had walked into the conference room together, he said, “I bumped into Jules downstairs and helped her get through security.”

  He figured that lie had gone over well with Carson, but with Shana and his brothers, he wasn’t sure. In a way, it hadn’t exactly been a lie. He’d been bumping into Jules for most of the past twelve hours.

  “No problem. We haven’t started discussing anything. Just chitchatting,” Carson said, smiling. She then turned her attention to Jules. “I understand you’ve been busy.”