What the heck was wrong with her? She never got emotional. And she never cried. She was tough. A fighter.
But maybe she was tired of fighting, tired of being tough. Maybe she could be soft and vulnerable, just for a minute or two. Maybe it would be okay to let Brandon comfort her instead of pretending that her crummy childhood wasn’t a big deal.
She leaned into him, tucking her face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in. He smelled like fresh air, sunshine and red-blooded male. She pulled back and looked up into his eyes. God, she could swim in them, they were so deep blue. She wanted to kiss him. To taste his lips and feel his beard tickling her. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair, her hands over his back and arms, feel all that lean muscle. In that instant, it seemed to be the only thing that mattered.
What was happening to her? How could she feel so deeply for someone she barely knew? For a man so completely wrong for her?
She reached up to slide her arms around his neck and he was already leaning in, anticipating the kiss, and when his lips brushed hers it was so sweet, so perfect she could have cried. She loved the softness of his lips, the taste of his mouth, the tickle of his whiskers. Who knew facial hair could feel so sexy? The slide of his tongue against hers was making her feel warm and soft inside. And once they started, she just couldn’t seem to stop. She didn’t want to.
Why hadn’t they done this earlier? The moment they got here? Why fight it when it was just so…good?
She laid back against the blanket, pulling him down with her. She just wanted to kiss him and kiss him, keep kissing him until her lips blistered. She wanted to slide her hands all over him, but when she tried, he caught them in his own and held them still against his chest.
Without saying it, he was telling her that this wouldn’t be going any further. Not here. And that was okay. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d just made out with a man. Without the pressure of feeling the need to take it to the next level. She liked the feeling of excitement, the anticipation.
She wasn’t sure how long they laid there kissing—it felt like hours—but suddenly she heard someone clear their throat, and she realized they were no longer alone.
She and Brandon looked up to find a park ranger standing a few yards away, arms folded across his chest, a stern look on his face.
Well, it was a really good thing they hadn’t gotten too hot and heavy. Maybe that’s exactly what Brandon had been thinking.
“Maybe you missed the signs, but where you came in isn’t a public road,” the ranger said, sounding irritated, as if he might have expected this from kids, but as adults they should have known better.
They probably should have.
“Sorry,” Brandon said. “We’ll leave.”
The ranger nodded and walked back to the Jeep he’d apparently driven there in. She hadn’t even heard him pull up.
“So, you’ve never gotten caught,” she said under her breath as they got up.
He shrugged and answered back, “First time for everything.”
She should probably feel guilty for breaking the rules. As long as she could recall she’d been the consummate good girl. But something about being bad felt a little…fun. It felt good to break from the mold.
Brandon grabbed the blanket, folded it and stuffed it behind the passenger’s seat before he helped her in. She was a little disappointed when, on his way around the back, he grabbed his shirt and tugged it on.
He got in the truck, started the engine and swung around to head out the way they came, passing the ranger who was apparently waiting to be sure they really did leave.
They bumped along in silence for several minutes, then turned out onto the road.
“So, you kiss all your friends like that?” Brandon asked, wearing a smug smile, looking awfully pleased with himself, although she wasn’t quite sure why.
“And if I said yes?”
The smile turned steamy. “Then I think I’m going to enjoy our friendship.”
So was she.
“I figured the bare chest would do the trick,” he said.
Do the trick? “What do you mean?”
“You just needed an extra little push to get the ball rolling.”
Get the ball rolling? “Are you saying you brought me here to seduce me?”
He just grinned.
She wasn’t sure if she should thank him, or bat him upside the head. Was it a sneaky move? Sure. But let’s face it, she’d wanted him to seduce her, and that must have been pretty obvious when she made the first move. “I suppose keeping the relationship platonic wasn’t totally realistic.”
“It’s tough to fight nature.”
It certainly was. “That doesn’t mean I’m looking for a committed relationship. I think we should keep it casual.”
“Casual is good,” he said.
It was a relief. Not that she’d anticipated him having a problem with that. What man in his right mind would turn down no-strings-attached sex? She was probably a dream come true.
“So, where to?” he asked, glancing her way, and his steamy look said clearly where he wanted to go, and what he wanted to do when they got there.
And all she could think was hell, yes. Since sleeping with him at this point was inevitable, why put it off? “We could go back to my place.”
“You’re sure?”
She had never been so sure, never wanted anything more in her life. And if he was even half as good in bed as he kissed, she was in for a very good time. “Very sure.”
“Just so long as you realize that means we’re going to end up in bed.”
“That’s what I was hoping.”
“Your place it is,” he said, taking the on-ramp to the interstate.
She couldn’t help noticing that he drove faster this time. Maybe he was worried that if it took too long, she might change her mind. That was not going to happen. It seemed as though for every minute that passed, her anticipation mounted, and by the time they exited the interstate, she was so excited she was practically squirming in her seat. But when they reached her neighborhood, instead of going straight to her apartment complex, he pulled into the lot of the convenience store just down the street.
They were thirty seconds from her apartment. Whatever he needed couldn’t wait until later?
Her anxiety must have shown, because he said, “I have two condoms in my wallet, and I can tell you right now that isn’t going to be enough.”
Oh, boy. How many did he think they would be needing?
“I’ll be right back,” he said, shoving his door open, leaving the engine running.
Brandon was in and out of the store in thirty seconds flat. He climbed into the truck and tossed her the bag with his purchase. As he pulled out of the lot she couldn’t resist peeking inside. It was a box of thirty-six, and they were extra-large.
Oh, boy.
As they pulled up outside her complex she realized that her car was still at work, but it would keep until later. Or morning.
“You should park in the lot behind the building,” she said. “There’s no parking on the street between 2:00 a.m. and 6:00 a.m.”
The implication of her suggestion was not lost on him. He was grinning as he pulled into the lot and parked around back.
She stuffed the condoms in her purse and they both got out. Brandon took her hand as they walked to her door, and she was so excited, her heart was hammering in her chest.
Would he make love to her slow and sweet, or would he ravage her? The possibilities excited the hell out of her.
She unlocked the door and they stepped inside. She shut the door behind them and locked the deadbolt, so excited her hands were actually trembling.
She wondered if she should offer him a drink. If they were going to ease into this slowly, or just go for it. She didn’t have to wait long to find out.
The second she turned to face him, Brandon looped an arm round her waist, hauled her against him and proceeded to kiss her socks off. Or would have, had she
been wearing any.
She’d been with men who kissed too hard, too soft, too sloppy, but Brandon kissed just right. “I don’t know where you learned to kiss like that,” she said when they came up for air. “But you’re really good at it.”
“Marcy Hudson, eighth grade.”
“Remind me to send her a thank-you note.”
He grinned, dipping his head to take a taste of her neck, and the feel of his whiskers on her skin made her shiver.
“Is there anything besides kissing that you like to do with your friends?” he teased, easing her shirt aside so he could nibble her shoulder.
“Lots of things,” she said, grabbing the hem of his shirt and tugging it up over his head. “But only my special friends.”
He did the same to her, and when he got a look at her in her black lace bra he made a soft rumbly sound in his throat. He didn’t seem to mind that she wasn’t exactly blessed in the breast department.
He cupped her sides in his big, rough hands, sliding them upward, grazing her nipples with the pad of each thumb. Even through the lace the sensation was electric.
“Am I your special friend?” he asked.
“Why don’t you take me to my bedroom and find out?”
Seven
Deep violet.
That was the color of Paige’s eyes when she was aroused. A shade so unusual that if he hadn’t known better he would swear they were contacts. Paige was truly unique. And it would seem, in some sort of rush to get him naked.
They barely made it into her bedroom before she was tugging at his belt, pulling at the button on his jeans. But Brandon had every intention of taking his time.
He tossed the box of condoms on to the bed—which surprisingly was unmade. He would have pegged her as the type of woman to keep a pristine house at all times. He caught her by the wrists and pinned her arms behind her back, tugging her against his chest, then he started to kiss her. Her lips, her throat, the ridge of her collarbone. He nipped her ear, her shoulder, finding that she seemed to like it when he used his teeth.
He wanted his mouth on every inch of her body. But all in good time. Since it had been a while for them both, he had every intention of making this last.
She tugged against his hands, her eyes shiny with lust, her lids heavy. “I want to touch you.”
“You will.” He dipped his head and pressed his lips to the swell just above the lace cup of her bra. Paige moaned softly and arched closer to his mouth. With his free hand he tugged the strap down and eased the cup off her breast. Her nipple was small and pink and pebbled to a hard point. He flicked it with his tongue and she sucked in a quiet breath, then he took her into his mouth and she groaned.
Her breasts were firm and soft. And so perfect that he couldn’t imagine or want them any other way. There wasn’t a single thing about her that he would change.
He sat on the edge of her mattress, putting her breasts perfectly level with his mouth, and tugged her between his legs. He let go of her wrists to unclasp her bra and slide it down her arms, then he pulled her in close to play with the tip of her other breast. She moaned as he sucked it in his mouth, sliding her hands across his shoulders, tunneling her fingers through his hair.
He kissed his way downward, until he reached the waist of her jeans. He could feel her anticipation as he unfastened the button, slowly pulled the zipper down. Through the V it created he could see the black lace of her panties. It was an odd quirk of his, but he felt a special fondness for a woman who went the extra mile and wore matching underwear. And more than being a breast or a thigh man, he liked to see said parts showcased in sexy lingerie. Black, red, purple—color didn’t matter. But he had an affinity for lace.
Brandon hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of her jeans and eased them over her hips, down her legs. When they reached her feet she stepped out of them and kicked them away. Then he just looked at her. She had skin like delicate porcelain, and just the right curves for a woman her size. She was perfect.
He brushed his fingers across the lace crotch of her panties, watching her reaction. Her eyes rolled closed and she sank her nails into his shoulders. She was breathing faster and her chest had blushed deep red. It didn’t take much to get her motor revving. Of course, he wasn’t much better off. He was hard to the point of pain and aching for release, as if the last five months of celibacy were finally catching up with him.
He slipped his hand inside her panties, not surprised to find her slippery and ready. He stroked her and she shuddered. He did it again and she grabbed his arm.
“If you keep that up I’ll come,” she said.
“Isn’t that the point?”
“I’m not ready.”
He slipped a finger inside of her and she shuddered. “That’s not what your body is saying.”
“My body is ready, but I’m not. I want you to be inside of me. It just feels better that way.”
It was tough to argue with logic like that, especially when he felt the same way. He wanted this to feel the best it could for the both of them.
He pulled his hand from her panties and she sank down to her knees in front of him to unfasten his jeans. He lifted his hips so she could pull them down, realizing, as his bare ass hit the cool sheets, that she’d taken his boxers along for the ride. She tugged them down and off his feet, then she wrapped her hand around the base of his erection and let out a soft, breathy sigh. “Wow.”
“Too much?” he asked.
“Let’s hope not,” she said, then leaned forward and took him in her mouth. It was so not what he’d been expecting, she nearly did him in right then. He steeled himself against the sheer ecstasy of her hot mouth, and he’d just regained some semblance of control when, using her tongue, she concentrated on the small bundle of nerves just below the tip. Which just happened to be the number one most sensitive spot on his entire body. He was two seconds from a meltdown when he lifted her up off him and said, “I’m not ready yet, either.”
She was wearing a sly smile that said she knew exactly what she was doing. She reached past him to grab the bag with the box of condoms and said, “Maybe now would be a good time to suit up.”
She opened the box and pulled one out, tearing it open with her teeth.
“I think I should do the honors this time,” he said. If she did it, he didn’t honestly know if he could take it. He needed a minute to regroup. To think about nuns or baseball or something. “Why don’t you lay down?”
She did as he asked, and when he was covered he joined her. Despite how sexy they were, it was clearly time to lose the panties. He slid them down, and as badly as he wanted to press her thighs apart, settle in and taste her, he stretched out beside her instead. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. A slow, deep one, that should have given his overactive libido a minute to cool down. Instead, all the writhing and moaning and rubbing against him that Paige was doing was only driving him closer to the edge. It was as if she was determined to make him embarrass himself. But he hadn’t come before his partner since high school, and he’d be damned if he would let it happen tonight.
“You’re going to have to slow down, sweetheart,” he said.
She shook her head. “I can’t. I want you now.”
To prove she was serious she slid her hands down to cup his behind, simultaneously arching up to rub against him.
Holy hell, it was as if he’d unleashed some sort of wild animal. This was not the same woman he’d had to coax out for a drink, and drag onto the dance floor against her will. This woman was a purely sexual being. A wildcat. And she was so responsive to his touch, so easily aroused it made him want to beat his chest and roar.
He centered himself between her thighs, for fear that if he waited any longer he might lose ten small chunks of flesh from his backside. She looked so small, so petite, he began to worry that maybe he really would be too much for her. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. But she was whimpering and urging him on. She was, without question, r
eady for him.
He meant to take it slow, to give her time to adjust, but as he eased forward she arched up, impaling herself against him. He groaned as her slick walls closed around him like a fist, but Paige’s wide-eyed gasp, her nails sinking into his flesh, stopped him cold. “Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head and said in a breathy but firm voice, “Do not stop.”
Brandon pinned Paige’s hands on either side of her head and thrust into her, swift and deep. So deep. She gasped in surprise as her blood fired and a feeling, like an electric charge, started in her womb and spiraled outward.
He eased back, his eyes locked on hers, and thrust into her again. The sensation was so intense, a shudder racked through her. She pushed against his hands. She wanted him closer, wanted to touch him, but he wouldn’t let go. Though she had never been into bondage, or anything else that could be considered kinky, there was something exciting about being restrained.
He pulled back slowly, then thrust forward again, even harder this time. She cried out and arched against him.
He must have thought he hurt her, because he froze and said, “Too much?”
She shook her head and wrapped her legs around his hips. He loosened his grip on her hands and she clutched them tighter. “I like this.”
The idea that she enjoyed being held down must have really turned him on, because things got a little crazy after that. And knowing how excited he was made it that much better. She tried to hold back, tried to make it last, which had never been a problem with any other man. But something about the way he moved, the slide of his skin against hers, the friction they created…it just felt so good. She could feel herself uncoiling, coming undone.
“Paige, look at me,” he said. “I want to see your eyes when you come.”
She gazed up into his eyes, and the ecstasy, the raw emotion in their blue depths wrecked her. Her body started to quake as pleasure seized hold. And whatever Brandon saw reflecting back in her eyes was his undoing. He groaned, his eyes pinned to hers as he climaxed, and she realized for the first time in her life what true intimacy really was. What it meant to connect with a man in the most profoundly personal way. And instead of tapering off, easing to the mellow pulses of afterglow, pleasure seized her again, taking her into ecstasy a second time, this one even more intense than the first. It was so overwhelming she actually lost herself for a minute. Couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t think. She could do nothing but feel.
Exposed: Her Undercover Millionaire Page 7