by Lynn LaFleur
“Tell me that I’m not dreaming, Rico, that the nightmare’s over and you’re really here.”
He lifted the covers and slid into bed beside her. “I plan to stay as long as you’ll let me.” He cradled her jaw and kissed her gently. “I love you, Mary Beth.”
She touched his face, slid her fingers over the scar on his cheek, his lips. “We have a lot to talk about.”
“I know, but let me love you first.”
He palmed her breast, fingertips grazed her nipple.
“Mmmm, I love when you do that.”
He nipped at her lips, until she parted them and invited his tongue inside. She could lie like this forever.
And then he plucked at the tip of her breast until it hardened to a point. Her pussy clenched with each tug of his thumb and fingers. No man had ever made her as hot so quickly.
“How do you want me to love you?” he whispered against her lips.
“Your tongue,” she said without hesitation.
He gave her a rakish grin. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
Mary Beth closed her eyes at the whisk of his tongue across her nipple. He paid special tribute to the right peak…a long lick, a nip of his teeth, a tugging with his lips. After several moments of attention, he switched to the left one and repeated the process. She arched her back and tunneled her fingers into his hair, holding him close to her breast so he wouldn’t stop.
“That feels so good.”
“To me too.” He suckled her right nipple again. “Your body is beautiful, Mary Beth.”
She would’ve told him the same thing about his, but he kissed her again. His tongue drove into her mouth, over and over, the way his cock would soon drive into her pussy.
Rico licked each nipple once again, then dragged his tongue down the center of her body to her mound. Lying between her legs, he inhaled her scent and parted her labia with his thumbs. Her lips were swollen and shiny with her juices.
“You’re always so wet for me. Where do you want my tongue? Here?” He caressed her clit with his thumb. “Or here?” Using her juices, he lubricated his thumb and circled her anus. “Ask me for anything. I’ll do anything you want.”
“Lick my clit.”
He obeyed her request, running the tip of his tongue across the sensitive nub. She lifted her hips, pushing her mound closer to his mouth. “Don’t tease me, Rico. Lick me.”
Rico smiled to himself at her sharp command. Mary Beth knew what she wanted but so did he. He liked that she wouldn’t make him guess. He especially liked that she hadn’t set boundaries. She wanted to explore her sexuality. He wanted to take her where she wanted to go.
Placing his lips directly over her clit, he suckled.
Her breathing grew ragged, labored. Rico lapped at her clit, then suckled again. He watched her eyes drift closed. She caressed her breasts, tugged on her nipples. Shifting on the bed, he rubbed his hard cock against the sheet. He desperately needed to be a part of her, but not until he met her needs first.
She jerked and mewled loudly, signaling her orgasm. Rico’s cock grew even longer, harder. When her body stopped shuddering, he rose to his knees. Holding her hips, he thrust deep.
Silk. Heat. The wet glide of his flesh into hers. Rico savored every sensation of loving Mary Beth. She slid her hands up his arms to his shoulders, then around his neck. She pulled him forward until he lay on top of her. A gentle smile touched her lips.
“That’s better.”
He chuckled, despite the hunger lapping at his senses. “You like me on top of you?”
“I like you touching me.”
Rico slipped one hand beneath her buttocks to hold her tighter to him. “I like touching you too.”
His thrusts picked up speed, his own climax mere moments away. He kissed Mary Beth’s lips, her chin, the curve of her jaw. He thrust harder, faster. “I love you, Mary Beth. I love you.”
She tunneled her fingers into his hair. “I love you too.”
He stopped. She’d said it. The words he’d never tire of hearing.
Her words came out low and breathy. “What’s wrong?”
“Do you really love me? Enough to marry me?”
She arched her hips and began moving against him, taking his cock deeper inside her. “I do, sweetheart, but this is no time to chat. I love you very much, but right now, I’d love you fucking me even more.”
Rico began to move again, driving his cock deeper. The pleasure of being one with her sped down his spine and into his balls. In seconds, he tensed and exploded inside her.
Once he could breathe without panting, he propped up on his elbows and looked down into her face. “Are you all right?”
Her satisfied smile made him think of a woman who’d just found her favorite shoes on sale. “I’m wonderful.”
“You only came once.”
“Sometimes once is enough.”
“I want you to be completely satisfied.”
“I was. I am. Always.”
He kissed her, slowly, deeply.
Her eyelids began to droop.
Rico caressed her cheek with his thumb. “One time and you’re worn out?” He kissed the side of her neck, then licked his way to her earlobe.
“No way. I’m recharging my batteries.”
“How?”
“By lying here fantasizing about all the wonderful things we’ll do to each other with an entire day off.”
“That’s right. The café’s closed tomorrow.
“And I’m pretty sure I lost a client tonight.”
“Shhh, I don’t want you to think about Marty Trinidad, or ever say his name while we’re in bed.”
“Jealous?”
“Maybe…a little.”
She sat up and leaned back on her elbows. “Trust me, you have nothing to fear.” She brushed his lips with a kiss. “Not here.” Then circled his nipples with her tongue. “Or here.” The tip of her tongue found the tip of his cock. “Or here.”
“Oh god, Mary Beth…”
“Or here.” She squeezed his balls.
His chest heaved. “I’ll give you an hour to quit that.”
“How about a lifetime?”
Rico smiled. “Deal.”
The End
About the Authors
Lynn LaFleur was born and raised in a small town in Texas close to the Dallas/Fort Worth area. Writing has been in her blood since she was eight years old and wrote her first “story” for an English assignment.
As well as writing at every possible moment, Lynn enjoys reading, scrapbooking, photography and learning new things on the computer. She’s a software junky and loves to try out new programs, especially anything to do with graphics.
After living on the West Coast for 21 years, Lynn now lives 17 miles from her hometown in Texas. She’s a romantic at heart and can’t imagine ever writing anything but romances. A full-time writer, she spends her days creating stories of people who find their happily ever after, sometimes with the help of an alien or psychic or vampire.
Randi Monroe is part of that rare species—a native Californian. Born and raised in Southern California, she makes sure she never strays far from the ocean, which she considers essential to balance the fire in her Aries soul.
A romantic down to her toes, Randi wrote her first romance at thirteen, a short story based solely on her imagination since she wasn’t allowed to date until she was sixteen. As a Sweet Sixteen gift, Randi’s aunt treated her to her first Tarot reading. From the turn of the first card, she knew the metaphysical would always be a part of her life and her stories.
When Randi’s not writing scintillating tales of erotic romance, she enjoys painting and sculpting, jogging on the beach with her Great Dane, Shazam, and living happily ever after with her own Prince Charming of twenty years.
The author welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and e-mail address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
Tell Us What You Think
We appreciat
e hearing reader opinions about our books. You can e-mail us at [email protected].
Also by Lynn LaFleur
A Cupid’s Work is Never Done
Capsized
Coopers’ Companions 1: Rent-A-Stud
Coopers’ Companions 2: Michelle’s Men
Coopers’ Companions 3: Almost Perfection
Door Prize
Ellora’s Cavemen: Legendary Tails I anthology
Ellora’s Cavemen: Seasons of Seduction IV anthology
Enchanted Rogues anthology
Happy Birthday, Baby
Holiday Heat anthology
One Night of Pleasure
Premonition
Two Men and a Lady anthology
Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.
www.ellorascave.com
Whispered Surrender
Lynn LaFleur & Randi Monroe
Part of The Tarot Café Series
Abby Horton finds herself manipulated into managing her aunt’s upscale flower shop the week of Valentine’s Day. A Manhattan office manager by day and playwright by night, Abby knows nothing about the floral trade.
Retired NFL superstar Brett Kincade stops by to order his Valentine’s flowers and catches the gorgeous new gal in town reading an underground review of Whispers by the Sea—a five-star resort specializing in providing adult sensual dining and their guests’ wildest fantasies come true. Their attraction is instant. With a little coaxing from Brett’s famous “soft hands”, Abby eagerly accepts his invitation to Whispers the next night.
Dressed from head to toe in gifts Brett sends throughout the day, Abby can barely breathe wondering what’s in store for her at Whispers. The reality tops her fantasy, but is this the start of something she’s dreamed of since her first visit to Seaside as a skinny, mouth-full-of-metal fifteen-year-old? Or just another one-night stand for an ex-jock who has everything?
An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
www.ellorascave.com
Whispered Surrender
ISBN 9781419924514
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Whispered Surrender Copyright © 2010 Lynn LaFleur
Edited by Raelene Gorlinsky
Cover art by Syneca
Electronic book publication February 2010
The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Whispered Surrender
Lynn LaFleur & Randi Monroe
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Bergdorf’s: The Neiman Marcus Group, Inc.
BMW: Bayerische Motoren Werke Aktiengesellschaft Corporation
Carrera: Dr. Ing. h.c.F. Porsche Aktiengesellschaft Corporation
Hiltons: Hilton Hospitality, Inc.
Holiday Inns: Six Continents Hotels, Inc.
Honda: Honda Motor Co., Ltd.
Mercedes: Daimler AG Corporation
Porsche: Dr. Ing. h.c.F. Porsche Aktiengesellschaft Corporation
Snickers: Mars, Incorporated
Viagra: Pfizer, Inc.
Chapter One
Ace of Cups
The Stirrings of the Heart ~ An Emotional Renewal
A new relationship or the revival of an old one
“Chill, man, you’re making me nuts.” Brett Kincade slapped his mug of ale on the tabletop. In the past fifteen minutes, Slade Blackstone had checked his watch at least a dozen times.
“Kari’s never late.” Slade tilted his wrist, as if seeking better light and a new reading. “She got off work twenty minutes ago.”
“She’s a woman, bro. They take a thousand words to say goodbye.”
“Hey, a little respect. You’re talking about my wife.”
Brett rolled his eyes. “She’ll be here soon. Chill!”
“I can’t wait for you to meet her. I’m telling you, man, you’re going to love her, just like I do.”
Brett laughed out loud at that. “You’d better hope I don’t love her like you do.” He bobbled his eyebrows and wished he wore a mustache to twirl the ends. Slade had been his wide receiver for one season at Notre Dame—brilliant, cool under pressure, never ran a wrong pattern. Yet in the last six hours, every time someone mentioned Kari’s name, Slade melted like cotton candy. She must be some kind of woman.
Brett still chuckled, until he saw Slade’s smile fade. “Kari knows everything about me now, but nothing about my past.”
“You mean the past where you walked away from a lucrative NFL career and chose the Marines instead? I’m not sure I’ll ever understand that either. We could have made Rice and Montana look like they were still playing Little League ball.”
Slade took a long pull at his beer. ”Kind of ironic, isn’t it? Kari wouldn’t know a football from a hockey puck. She’s not into sports at all.”
“Then I’ll stick to stories about our frat parties and spring break.”
“No!” Slade said quickly, his eyes wide. “She thinks I’m a saint.”
“Man, do you have her fooled.”
They bumped fists. “Totally.”
“Of course that might mean some blackmail’s in order.”
Slade groaned. “Shit.”
Brett met Slade when he’d pledged to Brett’s fraternity in his freshman year. They’d clicked immediately, even though Brett made him jump through enough hoops for two pledges.
Later, when the starting wide receiver broke his ankle and Coach put Slade in the game, Brett knew that together they were unbeatable. Another couple of years and they would have set NCAA records that still stood today.
After graduation, he tried to talk Slade into pro ball. Instead, Slade joined the Marines and later did a stint as a Reno cop, then opened his own private investigations agency. He never looked back.
Brett didn’t look back either. He’d piled up victories and stats that hovered near or stood at the top of lists in all the records books. He could have stayed on another three, four years, but by thirty-three, he’d begun to find recovering after each game a little harder, his steps a little slower. He’d seen too many athletes stay too long. Still at the top of his game, Brett Kincade said adios to the NFL and headed back to his hometown of Seaside on the southeast coast.
He leaned back in his chair, looked at the contented man who sat across from him and said, “You really love her, don’t you, man.”
“Like crazy.”
Brett took another sip of ale. He hadn’t seen Slade in more than three years. Had even missed Slade and Kari’s wedding because of a business trip to Japan. Then out of the blue, his calendar cleared. With a Friday and Monday free, he’d picked up th
e phone. A spur of the moment trip to Northern California for a weekend of skiing with Slade and a little action at the dice tables was exactly what he needed.
Slade picked him up at the Reno airport late this morning. Like the good ol’ days in South Bend, they gorged on cheeseburgers the size of the fifteenth green at Augusta, and enough boasting and BS-ing to keep them going for another three years. Meeting Kari was icing on the cake.
He wouldn’t have long to wait if the expression on Slade’s face meant anything. Brett watched it turn from concern to joy in seconds.
He followed Slade’s gaze to the entrance of The Tarot Café, and the super hot babe who stood waiting for her eyes to adjust from the bright winter sun to the mood lighting in the bar. Dark hair, blue eyes, cheeks pink from the kiss of the cold. She wore her parka open, revealing tight jeans and a hint of beautifully rounded breasts peeking out of a deep V-necked sweater. Yow-zah!
“There’s my bride.”
“You lucky sonofabitch,” Brett mumbled as Kari spotted them and headed toward their table. A grin as big as Slade’s lit her face.
Both men stood. Brett stepped back while Slade pulled her into his arms for a hug. “What took you so long?”
“Arguing with Betsy’s Boutique about their ad.” She looked at Brett. “You must be that world-famous quarterback I’ve heard so much about.”
“Ex-quarterback.” Brett took a step toward Kari. “Current businessman.”
“I’m so pleased to meet you, Brett. You’re all Slade’s talked about since you called.” She stood on tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him. An explosion of heat passed between them so quickly, Brett thought perhaps he’d imagined the sensation.
Kari pulled back from him. She stared into his face, her eyes wide, her lips parted.
“What’s wrong?” Brett asked.
“Uh-oh,” Slade said. “I know that look. What did you see, Kari?”
“See?” Brett looked from Slade to Kari and back again. “I don’t understand.”
Frowning, Kari rubbed her forehead. “I need to sit down.”
With a hand on her elbow, Slade guided her to the chair between Brett and him. He pressed his glass of water into her hands. “Take a sip, sweetheart.”
“What’s going on?” Brett asked.