“Nick,” I whimpered, my legs shaking so I could hardly stand.
Our eyes met. “I love you, Allie. I’ve known it for months now,” his voice was hoarse. “That’s why I broke it off with Karen. She was getting serious and I…I knew it was you I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”
There was no need for words now. With my help, he pushed my slacks and panties down. I stepped out of them as I removed my bra and then stood before him naked. I’d never felt as beautiful, as wanted or loved as I did right that moment and I eagerly reached for him. Kissing me again, his hands roamed my body freely, touching me in places and in ways no man had ever done before.
Finally, sensing that I was more than ready, he lifted me onto my sorting table, knocking over books and scattering papers. Pencils clattered to the floor but neither of us cared. Unzipping his jeans, he moved between my legs. He gasped when I caught him in both hands and stroked his hot flesh. A fresh flood of desire gushed through me as he throbbed against my palms and worked himself back and forth against my fingers.
“Now,” I whispered easing back onto the table. The cool wood felt good against my feverish flesh as I spread my legs and guided him into place. “Please.”
He entered me, gently at first, allowing me to adjust to his size. Finally, he slid his hands up underneath my hips and pulled me completely onto him. Working his body in a wicked circle, he ground my clit between us, bringing gasps of pleasure from my lips. The sound of our ragged breathing filled the small room.
Then he stopped and looked into my eyes. “Marry me, Allie,” he whispered.
I could feel him throbbing deep inside of me and knew this was where he belonged and where I belonged was in his arms. In answer, I began rocking my hips, urging him to start moving. His strokes were slow and deep at first, bringing both of us to fever pitch excitement. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, clinging to him as he brought me to the brink of orgasm but refused to push me over the edge. Beads of sweat glittered on his upper lip and I longed to lick them off.
Again, his hot mouth found my nipples and he nipped at them playfully, teasing me with his cock at the same time. He gave me just enough to make me reach for more, making me groan in frustration. And then, finally, unable to control himself, he settled into a steady, thrusting rhythm that was designed to send both of us into oblivion at the same time. I gasped and shuddered and bucked against him with abandon, calling his name and begging him for more and more. And just as I reached the point of no return, he drove himself to the hilt one last time. He growled and exploded deep inside of me.
It was a while before either of us could move and we struggled to get our breathing back under control. Finally, when he could speak, he looked into my eyes and brushed my hair back off my sweaty forehead. “Was that a yes?”
“Yes,” I said, chuckling. “Yes, Nick, I’ll marry you.”
“I’ll get to hear the sound of your voice forever,” he said and kissed me.
Cassie’s Courage
Chapter 1
Cassie stood up and wiped the dirt from her knees, then raised a hand to block the late autumn sun. From her spot in the flower bed that flanked her veranda, she could see the long black limo glide to a sleek stop in front of her big Victorian house.
No, wait. It wasn't a limo, just a fancy car. A little too fancy for her quiet neighborhood. She stepped back, hopefully out of sight, and fought the urge to hunker down and hide completely. Maybe they were just parking here, and visiting somewhere else. She didn't know anyone with a car like that.
OK, well, she didn't know anyone, actually, except her sister, and Livvy didn't have a black car. Livvy only had three kids, one husband, and a minivan that was a weird shade of blue. This obviously wasn't her. Besides, Livvy and her family were on vacation for the next two weeks, somewhere in the mountains of Tennessee.
A driver in formal dress stepped out and opened the rear door, just like in the movies, and a man emerged. Limo or not, he was still rich if he could pay someone to open doors for him. Now he just stood there looking up at her home. Cassie could tell that he was very tall, and that he was, in fact, coming to visit her. He confirmed her fear by stepping onto the long meandering cobblestone walkway that led, eventually, to her front door. Damn.
His long stride and the easy swing of his arms conveyed confidence, entitlement, and a healthy dose of 'alpha'. He was halfway up the walk before she realized that he was favoring his right leg and had a bit of a limp. Under different circumstances, she would probably find him fascinating. At her own house, though, he was just...scary.
The random thought crossed her mind that he was the only person who had ever used this walkway, which she had painstakingly built five years ago. Even the mailman went no further than the mailbox near the street, and if he needed to deliver a package, he used the intercom mounted there to call her. She purposely avoided visitors of any sort - friend, family, or stranger.
Livvy was the only person who came, and Cassie didn't like it when she came too often. Right now, she felt torn between the need to hide from this person and anger with herself for not turning Lela, her big German Shepard, loose earlier. The dog was normally her constant companion, running all over Cassie's small amount of property, but Cassie had put her in her kennel to keep her from 'helping' as she dug in the flowerbed. Lela would have scared him away.
Probably. As she squinted through her tall canna lilies, she noticed that he seemed to have a very determined look on his face. He didn't look like he would be easily frightened, even by a big dog. What could he possibly want? He was handsome, even taller than she had first thought, and he practically oozed "rich".
He walked past the flower bed where she stood holding her breath, and she didn't dare move. Only her eyes followed him up the porch steps until he disappeared into the depths of her raised veranda, presumably to her front door. Her heart was beating so fast that she was almost afraid he could hear it. Maybe he would decide that no one was home and just go away.
Even though she was paying attention, she still jumped when he rapped on the heavy wood door. Even his knock sounded like he meant business. It didn't matter, though. She wasn't about to go find out what he wanted. He could go home and send a letter.
She hadn't always been this way. She hadn't always been afraid of everything and everyone, including her own shadow, and sometimes she got mad at herself for allowing this anxiety to dictate so much of her life. Whenever she tried to change, though, she always came to the same conclusion: the world was just too dicey, and it was best to stay out of it as much as possible.
Now, she could hear his footfalls as he walked around on the oak floorboards just above her head. She pressed further back into the shadows of the house and prayed that he wouldn't look over the banister and see her cowering.
Yes, she was cowering. She acknowledged it, and didn't care. She had been cowering in her big, beautiful dream house for five years now, since John had died, and she was content to do so indefinitely. There was just too much pain out in the world - her mother had shown her that. Better to stay right here. Alone, but safe.
Evidently, the man on her porch was leaving. She heard him descend the steps and then she could see him again as he started back toward the street and his big black car. The driver was still standing there with the door open, waiting for him.
Her chest tightened and she held her breath again as he passed, not ten feet from where she stood. In a minute, he'll be gone. Just one more minute....
When he turned and met her gaze, she screeched and slammed herself back against the house. When she did, though, she smacked her head against the wall and everything went dark.
Chapter 2
The first thing she noticed, before she even opened her eyes, was the pounding headache. The second thing was the movement around her face. It tickled, making her squirm. A blush of cool air puffed across the hollow at the base of her throat, and she suddenly realized that the movement was someone unbuttoning her blo
use. Her eyes flew open and she slapped at the intrusion.
"Whoa! Hold on there - I'm just trying to help!" She squinted through the pain in her head and looked up from her place on the sofa to see a man standing...here, in her living room? He loomed over her, bending down, so close that she could almost count his long, dark eyelashes. He raised his hands in the air to show that he was harmless.
"Hey!" She tried to sit up, clutching at the collar of her blouse, but the ache in her head sideswiped her, and she thudded back onto the pillows, groaning.
"It's OK. I'm only trying to help. You've had a bit of an accident, honey. Don't move too much. You're bleeding."
Bleeding? She raised one hand to touch her head and it came away spotted with red. That would explain the pain. She looked up at him, and realized that he was the man who had showed up earlier. Fear mingled with the throbbing.
"What do you want? Who are you? My name isn't honey."
He chuckled, a low sound that made her think of Richard Gere. "I know. You're name is Cassie, and I'm here to discuss a business proposition with you. I just didn't expect to find you hiding in the bushes at your own house."
He was so close, looking down at her, that she caught a whiff of his cologne. Something exotic. She felt as if she were suffocating. "I don't do business with strangers. Get out."
"Sure you do. You have to, because you don't have friends, according to my sources." His eyes. sparkling with amusement, were the most penetrating blue she'd ever seen, and he was so close that she could even see flecks of gold hidden in their depths.
His words alarmed her, though, and pain or no pain, she had to get up. She scrambled back against the arm of the couch and tried to swing her feet onto the floor. Dizziness stole her vision, and she fell back again. "How do you know about me? Who are you?"
"Don't worry about that right now. I'm a new friend, and we've got to get you to the hospital. I'm afraid you might have a concussion."
"No!" She tried to shake her head, but that added nausea to the nastiness going on inside of her. "No, I am not going anywhere with you. Or anywhere, period. Just...no."
He sighed, and she slit her eyes open again to look at him. "You have to go to the hospital. You're bleeding, and I think you've really done some damage to yourself."
"I'm not going anywhere." She took a deep breath and managed to sit up this time, very carefully, bracing on the arm of the sofa. "I don't. Go out, I mean. Ever."
He grimaced. "So I've heard. I just hoped that that was a nasty rumor."
Her alarm escalated. He'd been...what? Doing research? Who the hell was this guy? "We'll, it's not. And I'm not going anywhere. You haven't told me why you're here, by the way, and I really don't care at this point. Get out of my house and leave me alone."
She looked over her shoulder to where his driver stood in the doorway, hoping that he could help, but the man just looked entertained. She took a deep breath. No support there. Suddenly, her nausea came back and threatened to overwhelm her. She clapped a hand over her mouth and bolted for the bathroom, knocking over a plant as she did.
Thankfully, he didn't follow, and even though it was a false alarm, she used the opportunity to lock herself in the tiny, bright room. He would have to break the door down to get to her now. She grabbed a towel to press against the wound on her head and then sat on the edge of the tub to catch her breath and try to think.
He hadn't given her a name, and she knew she'd never seen him before. And how had he gotten her into the house? The doors were locked, but even if they weren't, she wasn't exactly a tiny creature. She couldn't imagine him lugging her size eighteen body from the flower bed into the house. A blush crept in at the thought, though. Surely not. He hadn't even looked as if his expensive suit was wrinkled. He probably had the driver carry her...wasn't that what rich people did?
She had no idea how long it was before he knocked quietly at the door. Her butt was cold and sore from sitting on the edge of the tub, and she longed to lie down in her own bed. She was just waiting for him to leave, and eventually he would.
"Are you all right in there?" His voice sounded genuinely concerned.
"I'm fine. Go away." Ow. Her headache had been subsiding, but it returned when she spoke.
"I'm not going away. At least, not until I get you to a doctor."
"I don't need a doctor. I need to be left alone."
"Nope. Not going to happen. If you don't come out in two minutes, I'm calling 911. They will bust down your door to get in here if they have to."
A vision of her home, filled with strangers, caused her to wince. "Please don't."
"Then you'd better show yourself. Ninety seconds."
She didn't doubt that he would do it. There had been genuine concern on his face earlier, and besides, he didn't seem like the kind of man who took no for an answer.
She stood gingerly, holding onto the vanity in case her dizziness came back. "If I come out and show you that I'm OK, will you leave me alone and go away? Please?"
"Maybe. Let me see you."
She sighed and unlocked the door. He opened it immediately and his worried eyes searched her face. Finally satisfied, he took her arm. "Where's your bedroom? You need to lie down."
She agreed wholeheartedly and nodded toward the stairs. "Third floor."
Her bedroom was her own private wonderland, taking up the entire attic, and no one else had even seen it since she redecorated after John's death. She had indulged every whim here, draping the big poster bed with lace and tulle in rich shades of red and cream and piling mountains of pillows and silken throws onto the king-sized bed. While the rest of her home was stately and classic, this room screamed 'woman' in no uncertain terms. Even the walls were painted a luscious shade of scarlet and lightened by the thick cream carpet around her toes.
"Wow," she heard him say quietly as they stepped into the room, and felt a blush bloom on her face.
"Umm, yeah...." She wasn't sure what to say here, but when she walked to her bed and sat down, his presence in her room was overwhelming. "Listen, I'm going straight to bed, so if you want to let yourself out, that'd be great."
He didn't answer right away, but looked at her very closely for a time. Finally, he nodded and dug a card from his pocket. Handing it to her, he turned and started to leave but then stopped, one hand on the doorframe. "I do think you'll live, but please call someone to come check on you later. Bailey has already fed the dog, and I've put your key back where you left it. Find a better hiding place for that." He grinned, and for the first time she noticed that he wasn't just handsome, but drop-dead gorgeous. "Everyone knows you look in the frog's mouth first."
And then he was gone. She heaved a sigh, blowing her bangs from her face, and fell back onto the bed. Thank god. Her nerves were shot, and all she wanted to do was shower and go to sleep.
Chapter 3
Boone walked into her beautifully decorated kitchen and went straight for the fridge. It was going to be a long night, and his leg was already aching badly enough to distract him.
"What are you doing?" Bailey asked behind him.
"Take the car and head home. I'm going to camp out here until Doc Forster shows up."
"You called him?"
"Just now. It's the least I can do. She's hurt."
"And stubborn."
"...and stubborn."
"But not as stubborn as you." Bailey was grinning from ear to ear.
Boone found a package of ham, some lettuce, and mayo. He snatched them up, then turned to his best friend. "Exactly. Want a sandwich before you go?"
"No thanks. I don't want to be here when she finds you in her kitchen. That one is a hellcat."
"She is," Boone agreed.
Bailey studied him for a moment. "You like her. I saw the way you looked at her."
Boone suddenly wished that the man would just leave. "I don't even know her, Bailey. This is strictly business."
"Bullshit. If you weren't also my employer, I'd argue further, but the look o
n your face right now tells me I don't have to. See you later, boss. Call when you're ready to come home."
Boone nodded, annoyed that Bailey could read him so easily. Cassie Tanger was intriguing, that much was certain. He had done his homework. One marriage, one deceased husband, one sister. She hasn't spoken to her parents for ten years, according to them. They lived on the other side of the county, not far at all, but Cassie wouldn't return their calls.
He had called her parents as a matter of inquiry. If he was going to be working with the woman, he wanted to know what she was about - and he really needed to convince her to work with him. From what he could tell, any ammunition would help.
As it turned out, not only were her parents willing to talk with him, they were eager. Actually, it seemed they were eager about everything. Odd people. He was surprised when they stopped by his office the day after his call to discuss Cassie.
Bill and Kara Tanger were cute. Neither of them stood more than five feet, six inches tall, and they were...bouncy. They entered his office like wayward puppies, their bounding energy threatening to knock him out of his chair. Bill had spoken the most, but Kara had been pretty enthusiastic, too. It was weird, though. They didn't seem like it was a big deal if they never spoke to their daughter again. They just wanted to know that she was safe, and he was evidently going to be their source.
"Why don't you just ask her sister...um, what was her name again?"
"Olivia," Kara supplied.
Bill was shaking his head before he'd finished asking the question. "No, no, no...that won't work at all-."
"We've already tried that-." Kara Tanger interrupted.
"She won't let Livvy close, either," Bill finished. Together, they made his head spin.
It had taken a few days of research to determine that, while Cassie was by no means a wealthy woman, her real estate investments made her very comfortable. On top of that, she never went out, so most her money was gathering interest in two or three high-yielding accounts. He relayed this information to the Tangers. "She seems to be fine, honestly."
Star-Crossed Curves: BBW Erotic Romance Boxed Set Page 15