Fast Burn

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Fast Burn Page 14

by Lori Foster


  Keeping his gaze locked with hers, Brand scrutinized everything she felt, each small reaction, then he continued. “I will never do or say anything to undermine your authority at the agency or with my friends who work for you. But at the same time, whenever we’re around my friends, it needs to be clear that we’re in a relationship, and I don’t mean employer and employee.”

  He’d inferred so much, she licked suddenly dry lips. His hand being right there made it difficult to think. “Will we be in a relationship?”

  “You’re naked under me.” His fingers probed, parting her so that his middle finger could press barely inside her. “You’re getting wet.” He lightly swirled that intruding finger. “I’d say we already are.”

  Around a gasp of pleasure, Sahara thought, Oh good. A relationship. Now if he’d only get on with it. “So not just sex?”

  “With you? No.”

  She liked the way he said that, as if he couldn’t help himself from getting involved—especially if they were to be intimate. She accepted that she was already far too drawn to Brand, so it was nice to know she wasn’t alone. “You won’t be mean, will you?”

  He raised his head, his expression concerned. “Do you really have to ask?”

  She gave it some thought—not easy considering what he did to her—then shook her head. “You wouldn’t be.”

  “No, I wouldn’t.” He withdrew his finger, only to slip back in with two, this time going deeper. “But I will enjoy taking the lead.”

  “In bed?”

  “Definitely.” He kissed her, longer this time, his tongue stroking into her mouth in the same rhythm as his fingers.

  Loving the taste of him, his heady scent, she clung to him, her hands reaching as much of him as she could. He really needed to lose the boxers so they’d both be naked.

  When he ended the kiss, she started to tell him so, but he didn’t give her a chance. “In bed, and any place outside of your work.”

  Outside of work could cover a lot of ground. She wasn’t sure about committing to that.

  Brand insisted. “Tell me you agree.”

  Damn him, his fingers were still again. “I think this level of teasing falls into the category of being mean.”

  “Then agree,” he said, grinning at her. “I know your word is good, but keep in mind, honey, you can call it quits anytime you like. You won’t be permanently locked in.” As he spoke, he pressed his fingers deeper, curling them so they touched in just the right spot to shoot sensation through her body. As if that weren’t enough, he brought his thumb into play, slicking up and over her clitoris. The dual assault stole her thoughts, her breath, even her will to deny him.

  She lifted into the touch, whispering, “Agreed.”

  Proving he’d gotten what he wanted, Brand stopped teasing and instead went about devastating her. His mouth latched on to a nipple, sucking strongly. His fingers found a rhythm that quickly drove her to the edge. She felt him hard against her hip, with the boxers still between them.

  Pleasure grew in an ever-tightening coil. Heat built in pulsing waves. She gasped every breath, desperate for release...then groaned as the climax washed through her. Brand released her breast to lift up, watching her as she bowed and twisted. She squeezed her eyes shut, her lips parting on a low cry.

  “Beautiful,” he murmured, but he didn’t let up.

  Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, he left her.

  Standing beside the bed, he said, “I’ll be right back. Don’t move. Not a single muscle.”

  Sahara leaned up to look at herself. Legs sprawled, skin damp...damper between her legs. She went flat again with a sigh. Was this part of his plan to take charge in bed? Did it matter?

  “Yeah, sure.” She didn’t think she had the energy to do much moving anyway.

  He walked out, but was back seconds later with a condom. She turned her head to watch him, but otherwise remained boneless.

  Holding the packet in his teeth, his gaze burning hot on her body, he shucked off his shorts.

  Finally. And damn, he looked fine, as amazing as she’d imagined, maybe more so.

  Naturally, she’d never been with anyone who wasn’t attractive. She had standards, and while intelligence and kindness might rank at the top, being physically appealing was important, too. Yet, she’d never been with anyone so finely honed, with muscles cutting everywhere, across his shoulders and chest, down his abs, through thick thighs and strong calves.

  His movements were fluid, his strength flexible. He paid no attention to his body, and she couldn’t look away.

  A fighter, ripped and ready to engage.

  With her.

  Sahara touched a hand to her throat, nearly overcome with anticipation. Her skin tingled, and her heart started pounding all over again. She felt the pull of excitement in her nipples, her stomach...and between her legs.

  Dark hair sprinkled his upper chest then bisected his body in a narrow line, swirling around his navel, then cutting low again to frame his erection. Even that part of him was enough to steal her breath.

  As she stared, he wrapped a hand around himself and stroked once.

  “I like how you look at me.”

  Her attention shot to his face. His incendiary dark gaze bored into hers.

  “I knew fighters had sex appeal,” she explained. “It’s why I was so keen on hiring them for the agency.”

  His gaze narrowed. “You’ve thought about the others the same way?”

  Unable to keep her gaze off his body, she shrugged. “I suppose I have, in a mercenary, detached way.”

  He stepped closer, both hands now dangling at his sides, the condom held between two fingers. “Explain that.”

  “I knew they’d be good for business, that I could exploit their employment in a way to play up the sex appeal angle.” Her eyes briefly locked with his. “Sex sells.”

  His body tensed even more—which really only further delineated all those beautiful muscles.

  Knowing what he really asked, she explained, “But I never thought about sleeping with any of them. I never considered what they’d look like naked beside my bed, with a condom in hand, preparing to have sex with me.”

  His chin tilted up. “That’s the truth?”

  A laugh teased from her. “So you not only think I’m too bossy, you think I spend all my time fantasizing about my employees?” She laughed at him. “However do I manage to get so much done?”

  After a brief consideration, he tore open the condom packet and rolled on the protection. “I’d rather you not think of them at all.” Properly covered, he pressed her right leg farther away from her body and settled over her. “Especially not now.”

  Heaven, feeling his weight press her down. “You’re the one who always wants to talk. And I did just have a splendid climax, so I’m feeling rather—”

  He slid into her in one hard thrust, then balanced on his elbows over her. “Feeling what?”

  No, she couldn’t engage in idle banter, not now. She swallowed, and managed to whisper, “Filled.”

  “And hot?” He pulled back, his gaze on her face, then drove in hard again. “How about hot?”

  Her body bowed with renewed pleasure. She nodded. Very hot.

  “And wet?” he asked as he cupped her breasts, holding them together so that with each idle thrust, his chest brushed her nipples.

  “Yes.” Even as she said it, she felt a rush of liquid heat.

  “Hot and wet,” he agreed, his tone sultry as he ground himself against her. “For me.”

  “Yes,” she said again.

  “Say my name, Sahara.”

  “Brand.” Her fingertips sank into the firm muscles of his shoulders. Her blood rushed, already racing toward another release. Amazing.

  “Put your legs around me and hold me tight.”

  She
did, hooking her ankles over the small of his back. “Kiss me.” She needed his mouth.

  He stared down at her.

  “Please.”

  He very briefly brushed his mouth over hers. “You’re not the boss right now, so you need to make it a pretty request.”

  Ohhh, she liked this game. Lifting her lashes to stare up at him, thrilling at the look in his dark eyes, she said, “Brand, kiss me, please.”

  He obliged without comment, ravishing her mouth, riding her hard, his rough hands still holding her breasts and now his thumbs pressing her nipples...

  She came in a sudden explosion of pleasure, putting her head back and crying out. With him inside her, it was even more intense, more powerful.

  Brand whispered, “That’s it, that’s it,” kissing her throat, lightly biting her shoulder until he, too, stiffened and groaned out his release. He kept his face against her, but gradually his hands softened on her and his thrusts slowed.

  He rested against her.

  Still throbbing with acute pleasure, Sahara smiled. From the moment she’d met him, she’d felt the chemistry and known sex between them would be incredible.

  What she hadn’t expected was the warm glow of contentment—and a strangely disturbing proprietary need.

  She wanted Brand to be hers.

  And he just wanted to be the boss.

  * * *

  AFTER FINISHING HIS shower in minutes, Brand pulled on his casual clothes and started coffee in the kitchen, along with breakfast. Though she’d taken a marathon bath last night, Sahara lingered in the shower.

  He’d have to remind her of what he’d said earlier: women took forever getting ready.

  While he cooked a healthy breakfast that would also satisfy her sweet tooth, he called Leese.

  His friend answered with “Everything okay?”

  Everything was stupendous. He felt good, better than he had in months. “Yup. I was just checking in. She’ll be down to the office soon. Anything happen that I need to know about?”

  Leese laughed. “You definitely sound in a better mood. Should I ask?”

  He grinned. “Probably not.”

  “Ah, gotcha. It’s odd as hell, but whatever. Long as she’s guarded. Too often she has more courage than caution.”

  “So overall, you’re glad I’m with her?”

  “Sure. I mean, I’m not blind to the way she looks, and you aren’t working for her, so...no problem, right?”

  “Right.” For Brand, it was so much more than Sahara’s appearance, but he wasn’t in the habit of baring his soul. “Have any of you found out anything else?”

  “Sorry, no. Sahara’s been going through Scott’s acquaintances, hoping to recognize the guy who broke in to her house. But she’s the only one who saw him.”

  “I got an idea of his size, but yeah, when they returned from meeting you and Justice, the fucks still had on their masks.”

  “Paranoid or duly careful, who knows? Anyway, Justice is sure he got in through the front door, so there has to be a tie somewhere. If we can figure out who he is, we can deal with it.”

  The shower shut off and he knew Sahara would emerge soon—maybe sooner still if she knew he had food for her. “Even though I’m not working for her, do you mind keeping me in the loop?”

  “Not if you do the same. It’d be better if she didn’t go anywhere alone, so if you have to leave her, let me know.”

  He didn’t plan to budge, but he said, “Got it.” After he disconnected, he checked the meal then went to the bathroom door. He could hear the whir of a blow dryer. After a rap of his knuckles, he said, “Breakfast in five—or will you still be primping?”

  The door opened. Wrapped in a towel, one hand holding a round brush in her hair, the other holding the blow dryer, Sahara asked, “What breakfast?”

  He couldn’t resist kissing her. She tasted minty and her skin smelled luscious. “Warm raspberry vanilla coffee cake, and strong coffee.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Oh my God, amazing sex followed by delectable food. Be still my heart.” This time she went on tiptoe to kiss him, and promised, “I’ll be out in five.”

  Just to prompt her, he said, “Yeah, right. I’m betting half an hour, at least.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him, used her heel to close the door, and he heard the blow dryer come back on.

  Grinning, he went back to the kitchen and did a quick job of setting the table. He poured two coffees, set out creamer and sugar, and then removed the coffee cake.

  Fragrant steam filled the kitchen area.

  He’d just gotten out a knife to cut it when Sahara came breezing around the corner. She carried her shoes and her hair swung loose, but otherwise she looked as put together as ever.

  “Under five,” she boasted. “You owe me an apology for doubting me.”

  She wore a slim-fitting above-the-knee tan dress with elbow-length sleeves. It hugged her body in all the right places, and now he knew exactly what that body looked like, the scent of her skin, how she responded.

  Unable to resist, he put a hand on her waist and drew her in against him. “I like your hair down.” Golden brown, thick, silky soft. He’d like to feel it drifting over his skin.

  Over the tops of his thighs. He tamped down on those thoughts.

  “Thank you.” Her mouth twisted. “I just didn’t have time to fix it, but honestly, it only takes a few minutes for me to put it up so I still would have made it on time.” Moving past that, she sniffed the air. “That smells amazing.”

  He lifted her face for a kiss, appreciating the fact that she wore no lipstick. “Take a seat and I’ll serve you.”

  “Such a gentleman,” she teased, perching that sexy ass on the edge of the chair and putting on a pair of heels. Her movements were feminine and somehow arousing.

  Down, he told his dick. Much as he enjoyed the private time with her, he was determined not to interfere with her work, and that meant helping to ensure she got to the office at her usual hour.

  The second he set the plate in front of her, she dug in, then hummed her appreciation. “Sooo good.”

  The look on her face stirred him again. It was getting ridiculous, the over-the-top way he reacted to her. “I’m glad you like it.”

  “You know I enjoy pastries in the morning.”

  “Not a pastry,” he pointed out. After she’d taken another bite, he said, “It’s actually healthy since it’s made with a lot of grains.”

  “No way.”

  “And low calorie.”

  “That proves it. You’re a magician.”

  A crooked smile tugged at his mouth. “Because I can make food taste good without dumping in a pound of sugar?”

  The heated look she sent his way nearly destroyed his resolve. “Cooking is just one of your talents.” She sipped her coffee and made more sounds of appreciation. “So I know this might be awkward, but I need to know—will you be here again tonight? You did mention a relationship and I’m hoping it comes with more of these amazing benefits.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  She nodded. “And tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow, too.”

  She grinned. “You’re so agreeable, should I keep pushing?”

  “No, you should finish eating so I can walk you down.”

  That had her face falling. “You’re leaving?”

  “Wasn’t really planning on it, but I don’t want to be in your way either.”

  “So you have the whole day free?”

  As soon as she asked it, his cell rang. After glancing at the screen, he growled, “Maybe not.”

  She started to ask, but then her cell rang, too, only she’d left it in the bedroom. She grabbed another quick bite then rushed down the hall to retrieve it.

  When she returned a few minutes later, he was still on the phone, and
she didn’t offer him privacy, so he turned his back on her. “Becky,” he said into the phone, his voice strained, “the PT is necessary, so stop giving everyone a hard time.”

  Becky, his mother, said in a slurred voice, “This blockhead doesn’t understand that I’m in pain. I want him fired.”

  He sighed. Odds were the very qualified physical therapist would quit, given Becky’s impossible nature. “You’re not in a facility, you have around-the-clock care and you’re getting better. Why can’t you just be happy with that?”

  Her voice rose to a screech. “You expect me to be happy? You dump me here and just wash your hands of me, like—”

  “Like you did to me?” When he’d been only five.

  She whined, “I did you a favor and you know it.”

  Yeah, he knew it well.

  “Come and see me, Brand. Pleeease.”

  For him, her voice grated like nails on a chalkboard.

  “You know I’m not supposed to get upset. I’m not supposed to be depressed or sad. But you make me so damn angry and so sad all I can do is cry!”

  Every nerve ending in his body rebelled, but damn it, he didn’t know what else to do. “Fine. I’ll visit later.”

  “When?”

  “I don’t know yet, but until then, do what the therapist tells you.” He disconnected before she could say anything else.

  Dreading it, he slowly turned to face Sahara. She was back in her seat, eating the last crumb off her plate and making no pretense of not sympathizing with him.

  “Stop it,” he told her, grabbing up his coffee and finishing it off. He didn’t want her pity.

  Instead of responding directly, she told him, “Leese won’t drink coffee.”

  “Leese is a fanatic about health. He’s the one who taught me that recipe.”

  Sahara nodded. “I just like sweets, but Catalina survives on junk food. Or rather, she used to. These days Leese does most of the cooking and he’s managed to convince her that good-tasting food can be good for her.”

  Relieved that she didn’t press him, Brand said, “She still indulges in the occasional pizza, cheese coney or fast-food burger.”

  “Mmm,” she said. “Cheese coneys, with the steamed hotdog, the chili, all that cheese on a bun...”

 

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