by Jane Jamison
His smile faded. “Life isn’t fair. But I like to think that when you have a chance to make it a little more fair for someone else, then you have to take it. Stacy needs help, but maybe I’m not the one to give it to her.”
She leaned forward, thankful he’d brought up the subject of Stacy. She was more comfortable talking about someone else. “She does. I spoke to her a little while ago. The poor girl had a hard time just looking me in the face. I know she wants to get away from Doug, because I could see it in her eyes. But she’s afraid, and who can blame her?”
The muscles in his jaw worked, and anger flashed across his face. “Men who put their hands on women that way should be horsewhipped.”
“And have their balls cut off.” She gasped as she realized she’d spoken the words out loud.
His laugh put her at ease. “I couldn’t have said it better. You and me? We think alike.”
You and me? A new glow of warmth joined the heat that already burned between her legs. She liked him, not only as a gorgeous specimen of male flesh but as a person. She sensed there was more to their connection than the desire to help Stacy. Or was it just wishful thinking?
“Then we’ll have to keep trying. We need to let her see that she deserves better. That she’s a beautiful woman and should be proud of who she is.”
She froze. Had she gotten his motives wrong? Was he interested in Stacy in a romantic way? A knot formed in her throat, and she had to risk another loud swallow to push it down. “So you think she’s beautiful?”
Shut up and leave. Don’t torture yourself any longer. He’s obviously not into you.
“Of course she is. All women are beautiful in their own way. Some”—he reached out and took her hand—“are more beautiful than others.”
Her eyes met his, and she was lost. He thought she was beautiful, too? Could she dare hope he really did think she was sexy? The few lovers she’d had hadn’t told her that she was attractive. At best, they’d said she was cute in a quirky kind of way.
“Frigid.” Roger’s words struck back at her. She pulled her hand out of Marc’s.
“You don’t know it, do you?”
She jerked her gaze to his. Was he asking her if she knew she was frigid? She fought back the tears starting to burn in her eyes. “Do I know what?” Her voice came out in a whisper.
“Do you know how sexy you are?”
She was stunned. She knew what he’d said but couldn’t believe her ears. Resisting the urge to ask him to repeat the words, she bit her lip and tried to dampen the hope that sprang to life. Be careful. Hope was a two-sided sword. If the hope turned out to be real, then it was great. But too often the hope was her heart putting up smoke and mirrors, tricking her into believing.
“Tatum, I’m glad you came. I wanted to talk to you earlier.” He shot her a lopsided grin. “Before I was banished to the barn.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
“I’m not, since it brought you to me.”
He could make her come with one sentence. But would she freeze up if he touched her again? She wanted to look away but couldn’t. His eyes held her trapped in a mesmerizing hold that no mere mortal woman could ever break. She fisted her hands on top of the table to keep from clutching his long hair in her hands and yanking his mouth to hers. If she had enough nerve, she’d beg him to fuck her right then and there. Hell, no. If she had enough nerve, she’d demand that he fuck her.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” He leaned back in his chair and studied her.
That she didn’t know how sexy she was? “I–I don’t know what to say.” If she’d thought his look was intense before, she didn’t know how to describe it now. His gaze sank into her, diving into her soul to see her secrets and her deepest desires.
He leaned forward, his body tense, like a wild animal about to pounce. “Let me show you just how sexy you are.”
“What?” She wasn’t sure if she’d actually spoken the word or not.
He was around the table and bending over her before she knew he was moving. How did he move so fast?
He placed his hands on the table on either side of her and put his face next to her head. His warm breath tickled her ear, giving her an entirely different type of tickle between her legs. Her breathing quickened and her mouth got very dry. His arms grazed the sides of hers, and she wanted more than anything to feel his skin next to hers.
“I want you. You sensed it, didn’t you? From the first second I saw you, I knew I had to have you. In fact, I was sitting here thinking about you right before you showed up. I hoped you’d come, since I couldn’t go to you.”
She yelped as he grabbed the back of her chair and whirled her around to face him. He glanced at the open door then kicked it closed.
“Don’t worry. No one’s going to disturb us.”
Her heart pounded against her chest, and, somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she should get up and leave. Not because she feared him. She sensed he’d never hurt her. But what would her father say? Would he fire Marc?
She knew what her mother would say. “This is your father’s influence. I should’ve taken you to Dallas with me and raised you to be a lady.”
Surprisingly, the pain she felt whenever she thought about disappointing her mother didn’t come. Instead, she found she didn’t care what her mother thought. That alone was worth doing whatever Marc wanted to do to her.
As if I need an excuse.
His face was only a few inches from hers as his gaze slid from her eyes to her mouth and back again.
“Who are you, Tatum Griffin? How do you make me want to do sinful things to you with just one look?”
She didn’t know what she’d expected him to say, but it wasn’t that. She held her breath, letting her mind catch up to her heart, and, by nothing less than a miracle, she managed to speak. “You want to do sinful things? To me?”
“Yeah. Deliciously sinful things. Things you’ve only dreamed about.”
She drew in a slow breath. Was her fantasy about to come true?
His dark eyes glittered with bits of amber, and she watched a muscle in his jaw move. Was he trying to hold back from kissing her? She let her silent plea fly skyward.
Please. Kiss me.
He blinked, and his lips parted enough to show the tip of his tongue. “Do it. Kiss me, baby.”
She reacted as though his words were a command. Taking hold of his neck, she pulled his mouth to hers. Heat erupted from her lips to drive through her body and take her pussy in a storm of lust. She moaned as he leaned into the kiss, letting her take charge but letting her know he wanted her as much as she wanted him. His tongue slipped through her parted lips and tangled with hers.
He dropped to his knees in front of her and cupped her breasts. Massaging her nipples through her dress, he nibbled on her lower lip then tugged on her upper lip. A soft mewl escaped her, and she reached for the hair she’d longed to pull.
He deepened the kiss, and she responded as though she’d never been kissed before. As far as she was concerned, she never had.
More daring than she’d have thought possible, she spread her legs, offering him a chance to find her heat. He groaned into her mouth and slid his hands over the swell of her breasts and along her thighs. Another groan melted into her as he thrust his hand between her legs.
He broke the kiss and tracked his tongue down the side of her neck. Covering her mons, he pushed her panties aside and found her clit. She gasped as he massaged her then thrust a finger into her pussy.
“I knew you were hot. I could smell you. I’ve been going crazy sitting here talking to you and smelling your cream.”
He kept his thumb on her throbbing button and slipped another finger into her pussy. She scooted lower in the chair.
How many years had she waited to feel like this? She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Could anyone be frigid and feel this way?
She thrust out her breast as he fondled her nipple. Clutching his shoulders, she did the unima
ginable and pushed on him, urging him to go lower.
He pulled back and gave her a wicked smile along with a sinfully dark chuckle then kissed his way over the hollow of her neck. He flicked his tongue over her cleavage even as he pushed his fingers into her pussy. She brought her hands to her breasts and rubbed her thumbs against her nipples.
His jaw worked as he pushed first one strap then the other off her shoulders and took her breast in his hand. He licked her breast, stopping to suck her nipple into his mouth before moving on to the other breast. She pinched her wet nipple, sending pain into her that mimicked the nip of his teeth. Thrusting his fingers in and out of her pussy, he finger-fucked her, spreading the wildfire outward from her pussy.
“I’m going to taste your sweet juices. Then I’m going to throw you on top of the table and fuck you until you scream. But don’t scream too loudly. We wouldn’t want to disturb the guests.”
She couldn’t respond, couldn’t think of anything except to widen her legs. He pushed her dress up to her waist and dropped his gaze to her panties. Taking them in one hand, he lifted his gaze back to hers and watched her as he tore them away. She bit her lower lip to keep from crying out in joy.
It was as though he’d changed her into someone else. He’d taken her from a shy girl and transformed her into a sexy, give-me-what-I-want woman.
He smiled, his dark eyes flashing with amber highlights. “Tatum Griffin, you’re a quiet one, but I think you’re a wild one in bed, aren’t you?” He glanced down at her. “Good. I like a smooth pussy.”
Her panting grew heavier as he slowly lowered his body until his face was level with her pussy. With one last look, he drew out his fingers, pulled her folds apart, and pressed his mouth to her cream-slickened nub.
She gasped and threw back her head in a silent cry as he flattened his tongue against her swollen clit. Shoving his fingers back inside her pussy, he lashed his tongue over her then sucked, pulling the tender bundle of nerves into his mouth. She grabbed the arms of the chair and held on.
He could do more with his tongue than all her previous lovers combined. But it was more than his sexual prowess that made him special. He had an air about him that demanded attention without ever voicing his rule. A sense of danger surrounded him, wilder than any bad boy she’d ever seen in the movies, much less experienced in life. He was hot not only on the outside but under the skin, where it really mattered.
He whipped his tongue over her clit then drove it into her pussy as he reached up to cup her breast. Scooting his other hand under her buttocks, he found her dark hole and pushed his finger in. She sucked in a breath at the new sensation. No one had ever touched her there, but she liked the feeling. What would it be like to have his cock in her ass?
He lifted his head to take a breath, and she blurted out the words she would’ve sworn she’d never say. “Fuck me in the ass.”
The surprise on his face changed into an expression of delight. Standing, he took her hands and brought her to her feet. He took her face between his hands then kissed her hard, deeply, possessively.
She’d never tasted her juices, never even dared to lick her fingers after pleasuring herself. The taste was sweeter than she’d have thought, but it was soon swept away by the tangy flavor of Marc.
When he stopped kissing her, she started to turn around, ready to bend over the table and offer herself to him, but he stopped her. He made her face him then lifted her and sat her on top of the table.
“You’ve never had anyone fuck you in the ass, have you?”
She dropped her gaze even as her mind shouted not to fall back into the shy girl she’d been. But she couldn’t lie to him. “No.”
“Don’t worry. I promise I’ll fuck you in the ass sometime, once we have what we need to keep from hurting you. Right now, I want to taste your pussy juice again.”
He bent his head and pushed her breasts together. Taking her nipples into his mouth, he lavished them, first sucking then lashing his tongue over her taut buds. She leaned back and arched toward him. Unlike ever before, lust scorched through her, firing her nerve endings until she thought every hair on her stood at attention.
He tugged at her dress and brought it over her head. She skimmed her hands over his hard chest and dared to drop them to the button of his jeans.
* * * *
Marc couldn’t believe his luck. He’d thought of nothing else since he’d first seen her. She was the one they’d waited for. He’d heard his brothers’ whispers about her, about the possibility that they’d finally found her, but he’d had to concentrate on his boss and his decision. If they’d actually found her, it wouldn’t help if Roy Griffin kicked him off the ranch. So when the boss had decided to restrict him to the barn, he’d been angry at first then relieved.
If he hadn’t already gotten Roy’s dander up, he would’ve dared to ask for an introduction. Even though he’d been angry as hell for getting his butt chewed out, he’d still felt the tingle of awareness. He was sure his brothers had felt it, too. He’d sensed their inner wolves scratching at them as his had tried to tear loose from his control. But he couldn’t risk letting his need for her take over. Letting go, combined with the anger he felt toward Harmon, would’ve led to his shifting in front of the group. That would’ve signaled the end to his job, and, worst of all, any chance they had of getting Tatum.
Now she was naked and yanking on his jeans. She was offering herself to him like a present on Christmas morning.
She was a tiny thing, but her body was shapely and her breasts big enough to fit the palms of his hands. Her nipples were reddish-brown like ripe raspberries. He’d sucked on them and wanted to suck on them again. Her waist was lean, her hips wide enough for a man to get a good hold. Hazel eyes gripped him and held him as tightly as any lasso ever could.
She had her hair pulled back into a long ponytail that did nothing to excite him. He reached behind her and yanked the ring of material away and tossed it behind him.
“You shouldn’t wear one of those things ever again. Let your hair down, girl. You look sexier this way.”
“Scrunchie.”
“What?” He nibbled along her neck and felt her shiver.
“It’s a scrunchie.”
He drew back and studied her. “Do you want to play a word game?”
“Huh?”
“That’s the second time you’ve told me what something was. First a sundress and now a scrunchie. It’s like playing a word game. Or would you rather we look through a dictionary together?”
She blushed, the pink spreading into her cheeks and making her even sexier than the moment before. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I mean…I wouldn’t want you to think that I thought you don’t know—” Her eyes widened as she realized what she was saying. “Shit. I’m sorry. Maybe I should go.”
He took her by the arms to keep her from getting off the table. “Tatum, relax. It’s okay. I don’t want you going anywhere.”
“You don’t?”
“No. I don’t.” The furtive glint in her eyes told him she wasn’t sure if he was telling her the truth. Who had made her so skittish? If he could find out who’d made her so self-conscious, he’d give them a piece of his mind. He dropped his gaze lower. “Go on. Finish what you started.”
Her smile came and went, replaced by a lust-filled expression that had his stomach tightening. If it was the last thing he did, he’d get his cock inside her. She was an intoxicating mix of sweetness and spice, of innocence and sin, and he couldn’t wait to feel her pussy walls clamped around his cock.
She managed to get his button undone but was having a problem sliding his zipper down. Her hands shook, so he helped her get the job done. Although she was trying to act like she had sex on a regular basis, he sensed an underlying nervousness that only the inexperienced at love possessed. She gasped as his growing cock burst from behind the flaps of his jeans.
“It’s okay. It won’t bite.”
She searched his eyes, and he laughed at
her confusion.
“It’s a joke. Go on. Touch me.” Taking her hand, he placed her palm against his cock. As if on command, it twitched, and she yelped then yanked her hand away. He brought it back and wrapped her fingers around his cock.
Damn, if simply having her hand around him felt this good, could he withstand the delicious torture of having her pussy wrapped around him?
She let out a breath and began to stroke him. Her lips parted as she leaned to the side to get a better grip on his cock and cup his balls. His body reacted to her touch like kindling to lighter fluid. He watched her, emotions firing across her face, never staying long enough to give him time to figure out what she was thinking.
He was going to blow if he didn’t get her hands off him. Taking her by the wrists, he gritted his teeth, barely keeping the growl from rolling off his tongue, and pushed her down on the table. “Stay.”
He yanked the chair closer, sat down, and pulled her closer. “I’m thirsty.”
She inhaled a deep breath as he crushed his mouth to her pussy lips. Closing his eyes, he skimmed a hand over her flat stomach and took her breast in his hand. He still held one wrist and felt the rapid beat of her pulse. But it was the sweet scent and taste of her that drove him over the edge.
He’d had women, lots of women, but they were all just preludes to the real thing. Tatum was the real thing, and now that he’d imbibed of her flavors, he’d never want another woman again. He swept his tongue over her clit, pressing against the tiny folds to find the hard nub. She bucked, not to get away but uncontrollably as shudders raced through her body. She lifted her legs and put them over his shoulders as he took both wrists again to hold her down.
She was his, theirs, and he wouldn’t let her go. Not now. Not ever.
He released his grip on her, and she clawed at the table. She pushed her legs together, capturing his head between them, but he was a willing captive. She could keep him in her prison forever.
Pulling her folds apart, he dragged in her clit and massaged the wings of her passion that lay under the skin surrounding her pussy. She whimpered, her clawing hands reaching for him.