Sheltered by the Millionaire

by Catherine Mann

  Finally, finally, he crossed the threshold into his room. He’d never thought of it as more than a place to sleep. Houses—homes—weren’t things to get attached to.

  Just short of the four-poster bed, he set her on her feet. As she slid down his body, she thumbed free two more buttons on his starched cotton shirt.

  She angled back as if to sit on the edge of the bed and he stopped her with a hand to the waist.

  “Wait,” he said, “we’ll get there soon enough.”

  He dropped to his knees, his hands grazing over her breasts on his way to hug her hips. Her husky sigh urged him on as he eyed the tie of her dress, the loops right there for the taking, releasing. He took one end of the sash between his teeth. He looked up at her, holding her gaze with his. Her hands fell to his shoulders, but not to push him away. In fact, she swayed a bit, her fingers digging into his back, as if she was bracing herself to keep her balance. She dampened her lips with her tongue.

  He tugged, slowly, imprinting the moment on his mind. Her dress parted and with a shrug of her shoulders she sent it slithering off into a pool at her feet. His breath lodged in his chest, then he exhaled in a long, slow sigh of appreciation.

  The sweet swell of her breasts in red lace, the curve of her hips in crimson satin panties had him throbbing harder with the urge to be inside her. Now. And thanks to her bikini undies, he found the answer to his question about whether she was hiding more tattooed paw prints. She had a tiny trail along her hip bone. He took the edge of her panties in his teeth and let it lightly snap back into place.

  “Megan, you are...beautiful beyond words. More than I even imagined, and what I imagined was already mighty damn awesome.” His hands trembled as he reached to stroke her arms. Sure, he’d touched before but the feel of naked flesh was so much more intimate now that her curves were bared.

  A flush swept over her lightly freckled skin. “And you, Whit, are seriously overdressed for the occasion.”

  She tugged him back up to stand again and unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way, one deliberate move at a time, kissing each inch of exposed skin. Her licks and nibbles had him bracing a hand against one of the bed posts to keep from stumbling to his knees again. He kicked off his shoes while she made fast work of unzipping his pants and shoving them down and off. Her eyes widened with appreciation and she stroked the length of him. He gave up and let gravity take them both onto the mattress.

  Whit laid her back on the bed, his bed. In his room. His house. Finally, he had her here after three and a half long years.

  He stretched out on top her, hot flesh meeting flesh. Her curves melded to him, enticed him, made him ache all the more to be inside her.

  The thick comforter gave underneath them. He stroked up the creamy satin of her skin, cupping her lace-clad breasts. Her nipples tightened against his palms. A low growl rumbled in his chest and he took one of those hard pebbles in his mouth, teasing and circling with his tongue through the fabric.

  He reached a hand behind her and unhooked her bra. Then, yes, he took her in his mouth again, bare flesh this time, and she tightened with pleasure at the stroke of his tongue. Her fingers dug deeper into his shoulders, cutting tiny half moons in his skin.

  The moment was so damn surreal. He’d been hoping for this chance to be with Megan since the day he’d met her. He’d held himself in check because she’d shut him down cold for so long.

  She wasn’t cold now. Not even close.

  Megan matched him stroke for stroke, taste for taste, exploring him as he learned the landscape of her naked body. Each panting breath came faster and faster, hers and his, and he knew restraint was slipping away. He angled off her to reach into the bedside drawer and pull out a condom.

  She smiled a thanks before plucking the packet from him. She tore the wrapper open, her eyes intent but her hands trembling. He understood the feeling well. She pressed a hand to his shoulder and nudged him onto his back.

  With a smooth sweep of her leg, she straddled his legs. Her fiery red hair tumbled over her shoulder in a gorgeous tangled mess of curls. He reached to cradle her breasts in his palms, his thumbs circling. Her eyes fluttered closed for a second before she looked at him again and rolled the condom over him, one deliberate inch at a time, never taking her eyes off him.

  He cupped her hips and drew her closer until his erection pressed against her damp cleft. She rocked against him and his fingers dug deeper into her flesh. Much more and this would be finishing too soon.

  He lifted her from him and lowered her back to the bed, sliding on top of her again. She hitched a leg around his, gliding her foot along his calf and opening for him. He nudged against the warm, moist core of her, pressing and easing inside with a growl echoed by her sigh. He thrust deeper as she arched up with a with gasping “yesss.”

  Her hips writhed against his, her arms looped around his shoulders and holding him close. She gasped and whispered in his ear, nonsensical words that somehow he understood. He moved inside her, the velvety clamp of her body around him so damn perfect. Like her.

  The need to pleasure her, to keep her, pulsed through him along with each ragged breath. He linked fingers with her, their clasped hands pressing into the comforter as they worked together for release. Damn straight he’d been right to wait for her, because being with Megan was more than special. This woman had him tied in knots from wanting her.

  And even as he chased the completion they both craved, he was already planning the next time with her, and the next. But first, he had to be sure she felt every bit as rocked by the moment as he did. Whatever it took. He pulled a hand free and hitched her leg higher around him, kissing and stroking as he filled her.

  Her head dug back into the pillow, thrashing, her gasps coming faster and faster, the flush on her chest broadcasting how close she was to...flying apart in his arms.

  She arched against him, her arms flinging up to lock tighter, draw him closer and deeper as she dug her heels in and rode through each shivering echo of her orgasm.

  The bliss on her face sent him over the edge with her.

  He growled as his release shuddered through him again and again, each ripple of pleasure reminding him how much and how long he’d wanted this woman.

  And how damn important it was to keep her.

  * * *

  Good sex mellowed a person.

  But great, incredible, unsurpassable sex?

  That made Megan nervous. She’d been looking for a brief, no-strings affair. What she and Whit had just shared made an already complicated relationship even more tangled.

  Megan sat on a barstool at Whit’s kitchen island, wearing his white linen shirt, while the man himself foraged in the refrigerator. He’d tugged on a pair of jeans and nothing more and heaven help her, he offered up an enticing view. His perfect butt in denim...his broad, bare shoulders... She swallowed hard and looked away.

  She’d just had the best sex of her life. She should be rejoicing. Instead, she kept thinking about all the ways this could go so horribly wrong. And if it did, that failure would be in her face every single day because living in such a small town made it all but impossible to ignore each other.

  Regardless of her intention to keep things light, tonight was a game changer. She knew that. To protect herself and her daughter, Megan would have to tread warily. Easy enough to do since her feelings for him made her jittery.

  For now? Her best move would be to get to know as much about him as possible and figure out quickly whether or not to run.

  Whit grabbed two bottled waters and closed the refrigerator. He opened a cabinet and pulled out two cut crystal goblets. He poured them each a glass and set them on the island just as the microwave dinged. He’d warmed their crème brulee dessert they’d brought home rather than waiting any longer at the restaurant.

  He snatched up a potholder, pulled out
the warm pudding and placed it on the island. The image of him all domestic and sexy had her mouth watering.

  She eyed the empty bottles and walked to the counter, letting her hip graze his as she passed. “I’ll just toss these for you. Where’s the recycling?”

  “Thanks. Check the door beside the pantry.”

  She tugged open the door to reveal a line of high-end built-ins, labeled with brass plates. “Be still my heart. This is amazing.”

  She smiled over her shoulder at him, then opened the bin marked glass. She found it empty and pristine, clearly never used. She tamped down disappointment and tossed the two bottles inside. She turned back to find him standing right behind her with a sheepish grin on his face.

  Whit slanted his mouth over hers. “Forgive me?” He kissed her again, then teased her bottom lip lightly between his teeth. “I promise to try to be more earth-friendly in the future. Scout’s honor.”

  “I wish you would do it because it’s a good thing to do and not just to impress me.” She enjoyed the bristle of his five o’clock shadow, savoring the masculine feel of him. “But I’ll take the win for our planet however I can get it.”

  He chuckled softly against her mouth. “I appreciate your willingness to overlook my shortcomings.”

  His hands tucked under the hem of the shirt, cupping her hips in warm, callused hands. Goosebumps of awareness rose on her skin and she stepped closer, her feet between his as she flattened her palms to his bare chest. His heartbeat thudded beneath her touch, getting faster the longer the kiss drew out.

  In a smooth move, he lifted her and set her on the island, his fingers stroking along her legs as he stepped back. “Food first. Then maybe we could share a shower—in the interest of conserving water, of course.”

  His promise of more hung in the air between them. He opened the silverware drawer and passed her a spoon.

  Megan tapped the caramel crackle on top of the crème brulee, Whit’s shirt cuffs flopping loosely around her wrists. “So I told you why I went into animal rescue. What made you decide to go into property development?”

  He raised an eyebrow, his spoon pausing halfway to his mouth. “You say that like it’s a something awful.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound...judgmental.” She winced as she set her spoon down and folded back the shirt cuffs. “But I guess I wasn’t successful in holding back.”

  “Well, I do have three and half years’ worth of cold shoulders from you to go on.”

  “Help me to understand your side.” She spooned up a bite and her taste buds sang at the creamy flavor. Of course, her senses were already alive and hyperaware after both of the spine-tingling orgasms Whit had given her.

  “I like building things. I like helping businesses and people put down roots.” He stood at the bar beside her, so close he pressed against her thigh.

  “You can build things anywhere. Why destroy wetlands with high-rise office buildings?” Damn it. There came her judgmental tone again. But she had values. She couldn’t hide what she believed in just because it might stir old controversies.

  “I’m not destroying the wetlands around here.” He said with an over-careful patience. “I’m relocating them, responsibly and legally. Tell me how that’s a problem.”

  At least he was asking. He’d never opened the door to discussion before, just shut her down.

  But then hadn’t she done the same?

  Now was her chance. “By relocating you’re creating a manmade, imitation version of something that already exists in nature. Why not leave nature alone?”

  He scooped up a spoonful of the crème brulee. “I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree on the word imitation.”

  “You say you care about the animals and environment by relocating the wetlands.” Frustration elbowed its way into her good mood. She set her spoon down and tried another approach to help him see her side of things. “In order to save animals, I needed the best facility and location possible, which you blocked. Legal and ethical aren’t always the same.”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “You landed on your feet. The animals are cared for. I made sure of that.”

  “What?”

  “I made sure the piece of land you ultimately built on was affordable.”

  She wasn’t quite sure what to do with that piece of information. She rubbed a finger along the rim of her crystal goblet. “Are you saying you offered up a diversion so I would back away from the property you wanted?”

  “Do we have to rehash this now?” He tempted her with another spoonful of his caramel custard dessert.

  “I think we do.” She took the spoon from him, licked it clean and set it down. “I would have been closer to Evie the day of the tornado if the shelter had been built where the original plan called for.”

  “Fine.” He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “I can’t make business decisions based on personal convenience and be successful.”

  “I understand that. Obviously.” She searched his eyes for a sign of easing, but his expression was inscrutable. “But you also shouldn’t pull your heart and humanity out of your job.”

  His eyes narrowed and chin tipped up as he reached to skim her hair over her shoulder, his hand lingering to stroke the sensitive spot behind her ear. “How can I make you get over that grudge?”

  “I’m not sure. Show me you’ve changed....” She struggled to think, tough as hell to do with his touch enticing her to just sink into his arms again. “Or convince me you didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Megan,” he said, exasperation dripping from that one word. Then he kissed her in an obvious attempt to distract her. “You’re trying to pick a fight with me so I won’t get closer. Am I wrong?”

  His breath was warm along her face.

  She whispered, “You’re not wrong.”

  He nodded, then pulled back, his hand trailing along her arm. “Tell me how teaching your dog to ride a skateboard led you to become a shelter director rather than, say, a lion tamer?”

  She grasped the safe topic with both hands, grateful for the reprieve. “I was always the little girl bringing home stray kittens and lost dogs. My mother was terrified I would get bitten or scratched, and looking back I can totally see her point.” She shrugged. “But nothing she said stopped me—you may have noticed, but I’m very stubborn. So my mom signed me up for this thing called ‘Critter Camp’ at our local Humane Society. It was a summer camp for kids. We learned about animal care, animal rights, responsible ownership and yes, animal rescue.”

  “Sounds like a great program.”

  “My mom had to work overtime to pay for it.” The memory pulled her under, back to those days of her mother scrimping to support her child. Megan understood the fear and weight of that responsibility well. “I didn’t realize that until I was older, begging to go to the camp for the fifth year in a row. But I was hooked. I looked into the animals’ eyes and they needed me. But they also saw how much I needed them. People don’t always realize that they save us just as much as we save them.”

  “Why haven’t you started a critter camp here? I’m certain it would be a huge success.”

  A dark smile tugged at her mouth and she dropped a hand to his knee, squeezing. “Are you sure you want the answer to that?”

  “I wouldn’t have asked unless I wanted to know.” His hand fell to her leg, his calluses rasping along her sensitive inner thigh.

  She swallowed hard and tried to think past the delicious sensation. “Lack of space because of the plot of land we had to take as the consolation prize when you blocked the purchase of our original choice.”

  “You said you were content with the second location.” Concern creased his forehead, but his hand inched higher.

  She clamped his wrist. “It’s farther from the schools, which makes logistics tougher for aft
er-school programs. There are a host of other reasons—”

  “Such as?”

  “We need space to enlarge the dog park, and then there’s the budget.” She moved his hand back to the counter. “But if you start writing checks to the shelter and offering flights for animals, while generous, that does not buy you time with me. If you want to make a donation, I’ll gratefully accept as the director. But we have to keep that separate from me—Megan, the woman.”

  He clasped her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles. “That said, will Megan, the sexy woman, have dinner with me again?”

  Another brush of his mouth along the inside of her palm made it tough for her to think, but then that was a problem even when they weren’t touching. She needed time to get her head together. She needed to figure out if it was even possible to let this play out regardless of the consequences.

  That wasn’t something she could figure out now. “I’m helping with the town hall cleanup tomorrow afternoon while Evie naps. We can talk about it then.” She slid off the barstool. “I should get dressed and go home. I have to think about all that’s happened between us.”

  He held on to her hand. “Remember what I said about one-night stands. I don’t do them.”

  Could she trust in those words when neither of them knew what the future held? She searched his eyes and saw he believed what he said. For now.

  Somehow that only made matters more complicated. “I remember.” She let go. “I’ll see you tomorrow—at town hall.”

  Eight

  The next day, Whit spent hours sifting through the rubble inside a town hall office, his buddy Aaron helping, but there was still no sign of Megan. This whole place was a lot like the mess of his life. His evening with Megan had been right on track. He’d been so certain they were making progress.

  Then somehow things had derailed near the end for reasons that went a helluva lot deeper than his unused recycling bins. He still wasn’t sure how they’d steered off course. It was as if they’d both self-destructed by discussing things guaranteed to drive a wedge between them.