Fast Burn

by Lori Foster

  “I don’t want to be alone,” she whined.

  Sahara’s brows went up. Not once had Becky whined while Brand was gone. “It’s my fault,” she offered. “I’m out of time for the day.”

  Becky flashed her a frown.

  “I enjoyed our visit while Brand shopped for you. Are you sure there isn’t anything we can get you before we go? Maybe you’d like to sit in the recliner outside? It’s still sunny.”

  “It’s getting too cold.”

  “Nonsense. I’ll tuck a blanket around your legs.” Not giving Becky much of a chance to argue, Sahara stripped away the bedclothes and helped her to her feet. Near her ear, she said, “You need to start getting your strength back.”

  Becky groused and grumbled until Sahara had her settled in the lounge chair on the patio, slippers on her feet, a quilt tucked around her. She even got Becky a sweet tea over ice, and a few magazines to look at, then put her phone beside her.

  “Now, just relax and enjoy the air and think about getting better so you can have some fun.”

  Brand had stood back, arms crossed and expression enigmatic, until Sahara mentioned fun.

  “Rehab comes before fun, and Becky, I expect you to start doing what the physical therapist tells you.”

  Sahara patted his arm. “She and I have already discussed it and she’s going to cooperate to the best of her ability. Isn’t that right, Becky?”

  Refusing to look at either of them, her face set in mulish lines, Becky nodded.

  Brand softened, saying, “I’ll try to check up on you next week.”

  “Why not Saturday?”

  “Sahara has a dinner party.”

  “So a party comes before—”

  Interrupting, Sahara said with heavy innuendo, “Just think how surprised he’ll be with your progress, Becky.”

  Hinting that she’d have the makeover by then did the trick. “Yes, he will be.” Becky picked up a magazine and thumbed through it. “So what about Sunday?”

  “We’re helping friends build a gazebo.”

  Because she hadn’t known that, Sahara said, “We are?”

  “Maxi wants one by the pond and I told Leese we’d join them. All the guys will be there.”

  Warm pleasure spread through her, making her smile extra bright. “I’d love to.”

  Brand tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear. “You know anything about building gazebos?”

  She lifted her chin. “I’m intelligent enough to learn.”

  He grinned. “I have no doubt.”

  With a sound of annoyance, Becky said, “So I won’t see you this weekend. Fine. Have fun doing other stuff. Whatever.”

  Brand didn’t move. “You’re welcome, Becky.”

  Rolling her eyes at the prompt, she twisted to see him. “I already said thanks.”

  “No, I don’t think you did.”

  Screwing up her face, her tone sour, she said, “Thank you for taking care of your mother who almost died.”

  Since he’d gotten his way, Brand smiled. “You’re welcome.” He took Sahara’s arm and guided her away.

  Sahara was thinking that mother and son were more like adversaries who’d called a very temporary truce. While Becky might not be his mom, Brand couldn’t enjoy having such a strained relationship with her. In the long run, she didn’t know if she could help, but she’d give it her best try by giving Becky a new focus.

  The second they were in the car, Brand asked, “Okay, what was that about?”

  After just touting her intelligence, Sahara played dumb. “What’s that?” Unfortunately, she wasn’t that great of an actress.

  “You know what I’m talking about.” He put the car in gear and pulled out of the lot, not once looking to where Becky sat on the patio. “What surprise do you have planned for me?”

  After rolling down her window, Sahara waved to Becky. The woman ignored her, keeping her nose in the magazine. She sighed. “If I tell you it won’t be much of a surprise, now will it?”

  He didn’t press her, but he did warn, “If you’re thinking to try to reconcile me with Becky, don’t bother. I’m doing my duty, but I’m not doing anything more.”

  Sahara didn’t care about duty. She cared about his feelings. She cared about his life.

  She cared about him—far, far too much.

  CHAPTER TEN

  BRAND DIDN’T LIKE the evasive way Sahara got her phone from her purse and checked for messages.

  “Sahara?”

  “Hmm?”

  She was definitely up to something. “I’m telling you now, don’t get involved.”

  In a huff, she lowered the phone and glared at him. “Do you think you could try trusting me just a little?”

  “No. Not with this.”

  Appearing hurt, she paused and asked, “Do you trust me with anything else?”

  He wanted to reassure her, but this was too important to leave open to interpretation. “I trust you to keep your word.”

  One slim brow arched. “My word?”

  “We had an agreement—and honey, we’re not in the office, and not around your employees.” Brand spared her a quick glance. “That means I’m the boss.”

  Silence filled the interior of the car, then he felt her hand on his shoulder.

  “Do you have some orders for me, sir?” Her fingers trailed down his arm, off his arm and onto his leg. She curved her hand over his thigh, fingertips dangerously close to his junk. “Something you’d like me to...do?”

  Forgetting all about his mother, Brand accused, “Tease.”

  “I enjoy teasing you.” Her nails lightly scraped over the denim at his crotch. “Don’t you enjoy it?”

  “Yeah.” He enjoyed it a lot. Holding the wheel tight and keeping his gaze on the road, he said, “Maybe you should save the teasing until we’re home in bed, though.”

  “It’s a long drive.” Resting her head against the seat back, her smile in place and her gaze steady on his face, she withdrew her hand. “Maybe I’ll just tell you what I’d like to do to you, instead.”

  “I’m game.” Hell, he was already half-hard.

  Sahara wasn’t one to do anything halfway, and the woman was far from reserved. She boldly detailed her seduction, what she’d like to do to him, how and where she’d do it, leaving out nothing.

  By the time they got to the agency, Brand could barely think for wanting her. Sahara’s brand of foreplay nearly torched him.

  Yet he still noticed the man standing across from the parking garage, half in the shadow of a shop overhang, his demeanor watchful—until he spotted Brand. Then he became more alert.

  Briefly, their gazes held as Brand drove past, but short of stopping in the middle of the road, Brand had no choice but to turn into the garage. As he did so, he glanced into the rearview mirror—and saw no one.

  “What?” Sahara asked, giving up her lurid description of where she would kiss him. She twisted to look back through the rearview window. “What’s wrong?”

  “Probably nothing,” Brand said. “I saw...someone. He seemed to be watching the agency.”

  Frowning, she said, “Describe him.”

  “Hard to do. Tall, wearing a hoodie. He was mostly in shadow, away from the lights.”

  “I don’t see anyone.”

  “Yeah, he disappeared after I spotted him.” Or after he spotted us.

  “The man who kidnapped me was enormous. As big as you.”

  “This guy looked a little shorter. I’d say six feet tall or so.”

  Sahara lost interest. “Not our guy, then.”

  Brand wasn’t convinced, so he stayed aware as they entered the building, pausing to speak to the guard. Much as he’d like to get hold of the bastard who’d taken her, he’d rather not do it with Sahara present.

  He’d feel better once
he had her secure in the suite.

  They stepped inside, and as he locked the door, Sahara was busy shedding clothes. He turned and found her stripped down to her bra and panties.

  She had a thing for fine lingerie, and looked fucking gorgeous in it.

  “In a rush?” Brand asked.

  “After all that teasing?” She reached back to open her bra, then dropped it over a chair with her clothes. “Aren’t you?”

  “Yeah,” he murmured, letting his gaze move over her. With her hands up to free her hair, she looked even more slender. But she had an inner strength that left him awed.

  Standing there against the door, Brand toed off his shoes, bent to remove his socks, then stripped off his shirt. Watching Sahara, he moved to the couch and sat down. “I remember every word you said, everything you promised.”

  “Mmm.” She smiled as she came to stand before him. “So do I.”

  “Take off your panties.”

  “You’re still wearing your jeans.”

  Yeah, they’d stay on a while longer—at least until he got her off. After all the verbal foreplay, he didn’t trust his control, but he could see in the flush of Sahara’s skin, the tightness of her nipples, that she needed release.

  Her teasing had teased her also.

  “Take them off, Sahara.”

  She hesitated, but only for a second. “So I’m to be naked while you’re not? Does that mean you plan to touch me?”

  “It does.”

  Her smile warmed. “I can handle that.” She peeled off the tiny strip of lace she called underwear.

  Brand patted his thighs. “Come here.”

  When she started to sit on his lap, he stopped her, using his hands to guide her over his thighs so that she straddled him instead. With his hands on her narrow back, he bent her toward him—and latched onto her left nipple, sucking strongly.

  The pleasure was so keen, she almost lurched away.

  He enjoyed saying, “Stay still.”

  “Brand,” she moaned.

  “Shh.” He switched to the other nipple, sucking, licking, leaving it as ripe as the left. He liked the way Sahara squirmed, the little sounds she made, how her fingers clenched in his hair.

  Kissing a trail to her throat, he murmured, “I love how you taste.” He drifted his hands down her back to her hips, rocking her against the ridge of his erection beneath worn denim. Once she caught his rhythm, he went back to touching her, kissing her. He curved both hands over the globes of her ass, kneading the firm flesh. “Will you like how I taste?”

  Arrested, she shuddered and said, “Should I find out?”

  “Yeah.” Hell yeah. “Sounds like a plan.” Holding her arms just above her elbows, he eased her back and off his thighs, then urged her down to her knees.

  Looking even more excited, Sahara said, “Now you’ll take off your jeans?”

  He shook his head, slumped into the couch, and stretched his arms out along the back. “You can unzip them.”

  Sahara licked her lips and smiled. “This feels like a challenge.” Her fingers touched the snap to his jeans. “I like it.”

  He liked it, too, especially the part of seeing Sahara on her knees in front of him, naked. Brand tried to relax, but every muscle in his body tensed as she opened the snap and slowly, agonizingly drew down his zipper.

  Being the diabolical woman that she was, she leaned down and nuzzled against his stomach, her fingers playing over his erection. When he shifted slightly, she quickly opened the material and freed him from his boxers.

  Her small hands encircled him and she pressed a soft kiss to the head.

  Brand nearly groaned, but he enjoyed the game too much to give it up this quickly. “Stroke me.”

  With a sly smile, she whispered, “Yes, sir.”

  Damn, she was even better at the game than he was. He’d never survive—especially when her grip tightened and she started a slow, firm stroke up and down his length.

  He pressed his feet hard to the floor, bracing himself against the pleasure.

  Her breath teased over him, and she asked, “Okay if I kiss you now, too?”

  Taking in her tumbled hair, the heat in her beautiful blue eyes and the rosy glow to her skin, he nodded. “As long as you use your tongue.”

  God, she did. With a throaty purr, she licked around him, her tongue hot and wet, and then slid her lips down and over him, taking more and more until she closed her mouth on him.

  Unable to bite back the groan, Brand tangled both hands in her hair and drew her closer.

  She braced her hands on his upper thighs, her head bobbing slowly as she made him insane. His lust churned; the need to release burned inside him.

  He kept one hand cupped on the back of her head, and with the other, he reached under her to find her breasts. She was so soft all over, so sleek and sexy... Deeper and deeper she took him until he knew he couldn’t hold back any longer.

  “That’s enough.”

  “Mmm,” she said against his dick, so that even the small murmur felt like a hot caress.

  “Sahara.” It wasn’t easy since he really didn’t want to stop, but he got her mouth off him when he said, “I want to be inside you.”

  Lifting dazed eyes, she stared at him. “But I could—”

  “No doubt. But not this time.” He caught her upper arms. “Come up here.” Shoving his jeans lower, he completely freed himself, then found his wallet and the condom inside it. He handed it to Sahara. “You do the honors.”

  Smiling, she flipped it a few times, then tore it open with her teeth.

  He enjoyed watching her, the way her thick hair swung down around her face when she bent to the task, how her breasts moved, the flex of her nimble fingers. Letting her put the rubber on him was its own form of sweet torture.

  “Now,” he growled, at the end of his control. “Ride me.”

  Excitement sparked in her eyes. “Oooh, that sounds more like me being the boss again.” She came up to her knees, one hand holding him, and started to sink down.

  Brand clasped her hips. “Slowly.” At the same time, he leaned in and gently caught her nipple with his teeth.

  Gasping, she stroked him against her wet heat, but he held her so she couldn’t rush things. By small degrees, her body slid down his length and when finally she held all of him, he kept her still, further teasing.

  “Brand,” she moaned, her inner muscles squeezing tight. “Please.”

  Seeing her like this, so needy, wanting him so badly, satisfied something deep inside him. “Okay.”

  The second the word left his mouth, Sahara kissed him hard and began rolling her hips. Brand helped her, guiding her, lifting into her, faster and harder, deeper, and when she tipped her head back and cried out, he joined her.

  God, it was good. So good.

  He was still trying to catch his breath when Sahara collapsed against him, her cheek on his chest, head under his chin, body lax.

  He couldn’t imagine anyone being more compatible with him in bed. But then, on a very basic level, he’d always known the sex would be incredible.

  Today, though, she’d shown how nicely she meshed with his folks, too, while still staying true to herself. Sahara didn’t try to fit in. She didn’t have to.

  She was perfect as is.

  * * *

  SAHARA AWOKE THE next morning with a nudge from Brand. She stretched, yawned and opened her eyes to see him standing there in boxers, beard shadow and holding a cup of coffee.

  How could a man look so good? She smiled. “Good morning.”

  Brand handed her the coffee in bed, then asked, “What did you have planned with Becky?”

  Wow. So she’d managed to distract him last night, only to have him jump right back to it first thing in the morning? She glanced at the clock. It was only seven fifteen.

>   Unlike many people, she woke sharp, so she sipped her coffee, then said, “I promised to take her shopping.”

  A black scowl marred his handsome face. Mouth tight, he bit out, “No.”

  “Now, Brand—”

  “I told you not to interfere.”

  Uh-oh. He sounded far angrier than she’d expected him to be. Trying to explain that she’d been acting in his best interest wouldn’t work. Currently, he didn’t look receptive to any explanations. It’s why she’d chosen to admit to the shopping trip she’d planned, but not the makeover.

  She could find a way around shopping...

  “I’m sorry.”

  Standing away from the bed, his face set, Brand folded his arms. “Why do I have trouble believing that?”

  Easy enough to answer. “Because I’m headstrong and usually determined to get my way.” Placing the coffee on the nightstand, she swung her bare legs over the side of the mattress. “Please believe me that I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

  His hand slashed through the air. “It’s not about hurting me.”

  Of course it was. Men like Brand didn’t want to discuss emotions or feelings, but she knew his mother’s betrayal had cut deep. How could it not? Gently, she promised, “I won’t take her shopping.”

  Reluctantly, his gaze went over her body. “It’s fucking unfair of you, Sahara. How can I argue when you look like that?”

  Relief took the knots out of her stomach. “I was hoping you couldn’t.” She brushed back her hair and tried a tentative smile. “We have forty-five minutes before I have to be at work.”

  He groaned—then took the two big steps necessary to reach her. “I need ten.”

  “That works for me.” She’d have to really rush it, but she’d manage.

  “God, you make me nuts.”

  Before she could reply to that, Sahara found herself thoroughly kissed, her body stroked all over, and then Brand bent her over the edge of the bed and took her hard and fast. Her fists grabbed the sheets, anchoring herself as pleasure pounded through her.

  More than that single sip of coffee would have been nice.

  But sex with a scruffy, hard-bodied hottie? That beat the hell out of coffee as a wake-me-up any day.