by Mari Freeman
Liza knew he’d returned when she felt his heat behind her once again. His arms came around her and his hands gripped the metal of the balcony railing. “Put the glass down and place your hands on the rail.” His voice was calm, authoritative and provocative, all driving her senses in different directions. She giggled in order not to immediately obey his command.
Blake took the glass from her and set in on the table. He resumed his position, in effect trapping her against the rail. “I’ll try again. Take off your clothes.” This time it was whispered against her neck. Liza quivered at his command and was unable or unwilling to resist. She took her time unbuttoning her jacket and shirt, before pushing them over her shoulders and letting them fall to the ground. He stayed still. She reached back and the skirt button and zipper were undone next. She let them fall to the ground as well and shoved the pile over to the side with her foot. She stood facing the yard in nothing but her thigh highs and heels.
“Put your hands on the rail.” He stood stock-still, not getting any closer or moving any farther away. The anticipation was a physical stroke she could feel between her legs. She tentatively put one hand on the rail to see what his response would be.
Liza gasped as he leaned close and traced the line of her jaw with a hot, flat tongue. He hovered at her ear, slow, warm breaths also sending signals to her increasingly wet pussy. Unable to stand the anticipation, she placed her other hand on the rail.
“Hmmm.” He growled and nipped at her ear. He let go of the railing and reached around her, placing his big hands on her thighs. One after another, hot, wet kisses trailed down her neck. As his lips moved down, his hands slowly moved up her thighs.
“Blake…” Liza let go and turned, running her hands up his chest and burying them in his hair. She wanted him, to touch him, to fuck him.
“No, baby.” He took her hands from his chest. “Shh.” He turned her back toward the party and replaced her hands on the rail. “You just feel. That’s your only job tonight. I’ll take care of everything else.” He ran his fingers down her backbone.
Liza had to fight the urge to turn again and take control. That’s what this was all about. She knew that now. She looked over her shoulder as she gripped the metal. He understood it too. With every commanding move, he was teaching her to trust him, to see that if he took control, things would still be okay. He wanted her to understand that his control could be a very pleasurable thing.
Biting back a surge of fear, she gripped the rail harder, looked out into the night and bent forward slightly in invitation. Blake drew in a heavy breath, understanding her acceptance. She jerked when he draped a scrap of fabric over her head, moving it down to trail over her breasts before lifting it to cover her eyes. She shuffled her feet and tightened her grip on the railing.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered as he kissed the side of her face.
Those three words, somehow so intimate, soothed and reassured her. Searing kisses traced down her spine. She stepped away from the rail, bending deeply at the waist in response to the varying pressures and tickles of his lips and tongue. He hesitated, lingered over the dimples above her ass and trailing little circles between them. She moaned as he grasped the cheeks of her ass in his rough hands and squeezed. Her fingers started to tingle, numb from holding on so tightly.
“Easy, baby. I’m not going anywhere. You don’t need a death grip.”
Liza relaxed her grip, her body so ready, her mind spinning in turmoil. She heard the soft whisper of jeans as he sank to his knees, could feel the humid night air moving around them, hear the partiers and the music. “Please, Blake.”
“What do you want, Liza?” The words were a warm breath on her pussy. He was right there.
“Oh God!” The teasing was too much. The lack of visual input enhancing her other senses for too much. The abandonment of control was too much. She groaned, pushing back toward him and brushing her wet flesh against his face. His tongue flicked over her clit just a few times before she shattered. The stars in the endless Texas sky could not compare to the lights she saw behind that blindfold.
Blake stood and caught her around the waist to prevent her from losing balance. “I’ve got you,” he said again.
Liza smiled. Oh yeah…he had her all right. She’d have to worry about that later. Right now, her body was singing and Blake Dean was the lyrics.
“More,” she breathed.
He steadied her then moved away, leaving her blind and wanting. She heard him hustle out of his clothes. Suddenly his heat was back, his body wrapped around hers.
“Keep your hands there no matter what.”
She nodded, imagining the partiers below watching, seeing her naked and exposed, spread before her lover on the balcony of a huge mansion.
If felt oddly good to trust him this much, to be open to him. He reached around her and took one of her nipples between two strong fingers. She arched again and he grabbed her mound with his free hand, giving her a good squeeze. The heat was rising again. She was already soaking wet and begging. His teasing was only fueling her fire.
“Please, Blake…”
“Easy, baby.” He removed his hands and she didn’t feel anything again—until his tongue ran over her swollen pussy. She pushed back, begging. He pushed his tongue in as deep as he could and fucked her with it as he reached around and fondled her clit. He taunted and teased, taking her close and then backing off. Liza was about to jump out of her skin when he suddenly pushed his thumb into her ass. She jerked and pumped against him as rapture overtook her. She writhed, groaning his name, no longer caring if the whole party heard her.
Blake could take no more by the time she came on his face. He had licked and sucked until she was whimpering, wanting. He eased away and stood. That gorgeous ass was thrust high in the air. She was blindly rocking back in anticipation of his cock, her little hands still gripping desperately to the railing.
His fingers shook as he tried to put on a condom. He wanted to take her without any warning. To plunge deep and howl at the moon, but he was shaking too hard and she was moving too much. Finally, grabbing her hips, he impaled himself in one steady, driving stroke. He pulled out with the same force, all the way. Then he nudged just his head in and held still, feeling the flutter of her vaginal walls as they pulsed in excitement.
“God! You feel so fucking right, Liza.” He plunged in again, fingers digging into her skin, holding her still and waiting to feel the flutters at the base of his cock.
No longer able to hold back, and cursing his weakness, he started thrusting. Gripping her hipbones to hold her still, Blake fucked her at his pace, winning her trust by making sure it was as good for her as for him. She was keening and her head had fallen forward, her hair almost brushing the floor of the balcony.
Liza pushed back as much as his grip would allow. He was in control of her pleasure, of his, and it was okay. It was better than okay. She felt as if she was flying in his heated embrace and another orgasm was building quickly, forcing her muscles to tighten around his cock.
Her body tensed and Blake felt her spasm. He knew that was all he could stand—he was going to blow as soon as her pussy loosened around his shaft. When it did, he buried himself deep and held on as his balls tightened and his cock shot pulse after pulse of come.
Opening his eyes, he saw Liza coming with him, tossing her head back, sobbing his name, crying beneath the mask. He slipped his arms under her torso and pulled her limp body up against his chest. He slid the blindfold from her eyes and urged her fingers to let go of the rail.
Adjusting to the small amount of light took only a few seconds and Liza found herself looking into that expressive face. His face read like a dime-store map. The sweet man thought he’d hurt her. Shaking her head, she knew she was lost, not hurt.
Blake placed her on the oversized lounge chair and curled up by her side, resting his head on her stomach, his arm draped over her thighs. She was looking up at the stars and running her fingers through his hair when she f
elt him drift off to asleep.
* * * * *
The next morning as she snuck out of the mansion, Liza felt her heart sink. The sense of belonging she’d felt in Blake’s arms the night before hadn’t survived the bright Texas morning. Throwing her briefcase into the car, Liza felt heartbreak nipping at her heels like one of those damned pugs.
“Where’s the cowboy this morning?” Becky questioned as she loaded their bags into Liza’s sleek convertible.
Liza shook her head, looking back at the mansion they’d spent the last two nights in. “I haven’t seen him.” The lie hurt. Well, it wasn’t really a lie, because she hadn’t seen him. Not in the last twenty minutes, since she’d eased herself out from under his arm to run like a scared rabbit. “It doesn’t really matter. I don’t belong here.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Becky got in the passenger seat and looked over at the grand entrance. “This place is way too shabby for my taste.” She winked.
Liza didn’t look back as they pulled away.
Chapter Four
Three Weeks Later
Becky stomped into the office, her expression painted in impatience, and set yet another box on Liza’s desk. “This came by special messenger.” She placed a scrap of paper on top of it and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not lying to the man again.” She silenced her hand through the air before Liza could speak. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but you two are breaking my heart.”
Liza let her head fall forward and tiredly rubbed her face.
Becky slid into the chair in front of her desk, her tone softening. “Sweetie, are you going to tell me what the man has done that’s gotten you so upset?”
Liza huffed as she pushed her work to the side. She sighed as she pulled the box a little closer. She fiddled with a loose piece of tape. “God. Beck, I’ve made a mess. It’s not what Blake’s done, it’s what I’ve done.”
“Why does this not surprise me?” Liza gave her a curt look. “Sorry. Spill it.”
“I snuck out. After the doggie-do, I crept out of his bed and ran. Oh God, I’m so embarrassed. I was scared! The man has managed to get under the armor I’ve been wearing for years. I fell for him, and I was scared. I ran.”
Beck cracked a little grin. “Then why does he think he’s done something wrong?” Liza blushed. Becky arched an eyebrow at her.
“Argh. Okay.” She squirmed, trying to figure out how to explain to her friend that he’d blow away all her barriers and left her wanting, begging, needing in a way she’d never experienced…and that was terrifying. “That Saturday night, he…um. Let’s just say he busted through all my control limits. In a very sexy way.”
Becky smiled. “Oooh. That sounds good. Got all dominant on ya, did he?”
“You know I can’t let go like that easily. I trusted him, Beck. There’re probably three people on this planet I trust, and two of them are in this room.”
Becky shook her head. “I’m still not with you.”
“I’m still afraid. My rational brain understands that life is full of risks. I make decisions and weigh risks every day. No problem. Blake Dean is a risk worth taking. I know this, rationally.” Liza stood and went to the window. “Everyone important in my life has left me. Worse, most people I’ve trusted or loved have abandoned me, or dumped me on someone else.” Liza looked for the pity in Becky’s face. She didn’t tell many people about her childhood because she hated pity. But seeing none on her friend’s face, she went on. “He knew. Somehow, he understood and made me push those limits. I think he feels guilty for pushing me so hard.” She turned back to Becky. “I’ve deliberately not allowed myself to love. Anyone. I broke that rule and he knows it.”
“You know, you control your life.”
“Exactly.” Liza said.
Becky chuckled. “No, I mean that even if you let Blake in, you still control your life. No matter what, you control your life.” Liza turned back to her assistant. “The two of you can share it, but you’ll still control it because you’ve learned to trust yourself. You’re not dependent on others anymore. You can take care of yourself, even if someone lets you down. Do you understand?”
“You’re saying if I trust myself enough…”
Becky nodded. “And I think you do. The alternative is life without him. Is that something you really want?”
Liza didn’t have to think long to answer that. “No.”
“Good. Now, quit being a whiny, pathetic female and open that box before I die of curiosity.”
Liza opened the box, rustled through the tissue and came up with two pairs of gold handcuffs. “Oh my.”
Becky whistled. “Those are nice. Matching pairs. That man is so giving you the choice. What’s the card say?”
She held it up. “Your cuffs or mine? Either’s good for me.”
“Tell me again why you’re not over there right now?”
Liza looked her friend in the eye and admitted the second part of her fears, the hardest part to admit, the shameful part of her past that she could never seem to escape no matter how much she succeeded in her life or in her business. “There is a seven-thousand-square-foot mansion they call a ranch. There is upscale Dallas money. There is way out of my league, Beck.”
Becky lifted the handcuffs. “I hate to disagree with the boss lady, but looks to me like Blake thinks you belong hogtied to his bed. How much more belonging do you need?”
Liza eyed the shimmering gold cuffs. “I haven’t a clue.”
“Fine. Get your ass in that fast convertible of yours and head to the ranch.”
* * * * *
After finding her nerve she found Blake’s house on the backside of the Dean property. She started for the barn door as one of the other cowboys came out, the same graying man who had been with Blake the morning the colts got loose.
“Well, look who’s here,” he quipped.
“Is Blake around?”
“Lady, if you’re gonna make him any more ornery than he already is, I’ll thank you to go home.” He lifted his tattered straw hat and jammed it right back down on his head in a feeble attempt to prove his politeness.
Liza laughed. “I’ll try not to. Do you know where I can find him?”
He pointed behind the barn and moved on.
When she saw Blake, he was leading two horses. Head down, his hat and shirt dust-covered from working, his chaps snug. They still did nothing to hide his strong thighs. She sighed.
He looked up and gave her a little smile as he neared, but said nothing. They walked the horses into the barn where he handed her a set of reins. “Take her saddle off, will ya?”
With shaking hands, Liza fumbled to get the cinch untied. The cinch was tight, and her nervous fingers couldn’t get a good grip on the leather. The buckskin shook like a wet dog in an attempt to hurry her progress. Blake was in the next stall, talking to his horse. Liza couldn’t understand the words but remembered how the deep, rich tones of his voice had sent chills up her spine when he whispered commands into her ear.
Blake slid up behind her and wrapped his arms over hers, easily slipping the leather from its knot, his big fingers lingering over hers. “Why the shaky hands?” The words were spoken into her hair, just under her ear, giving her goose bumps. She could only shake her head. Her nerves were as much out of her control as her feelings. He turned her around to face him. “What is it, baby?”
“I…I’m nervous.” There it was.
He kissed her brows. “Why on earth?” The mare shook before she could answer, knocking off the saddle. Blake gathered the tack, tossed the saddle over the gate of an empty stall then turned and gave her a sexy, sly smile, still not asking her any of the hard questions he had every right to ask her.
He led her toward his house. The surprisingly cozy home sat to the side of the ranch, well away from the main mansion. She had expected Blake might live in a rough-looking cabin befitting a cowboy, but was surprised by the modern look of the place. Its warm colors and cozy, big front porc
h did little to ease the jangled nerves Liza was experiencing.
His simple acceptance of her unannounced appearance after a couple of weeks of avoidance was unexpected, and knocked her off guard. Her practiced speech was gone and her explanation of her feelings was lost in her wonder over the uncomplicated man with the extravagantly brown eyes.
“I thought you lived up at the main house. I went up there first. Bobbie sent me out here,” she stammered as they entered. That had been an embarrassing experience. Bobbie didn’t seem the least bit surprised to see her. The extravagant woman, in her hot pink Capri pants with palm trees embroidered on them, had seemed genuinely glad to see her and gave her simple directions and even offered to have her driver take Liza around. The entire time she spoke, the two newlywed pugs chewed at her expensive leather sandals.
He chuckled. “Little old to be living with my mother, don’t you think?”
Big, bold western art hung on three of the four walls of the great room, a saddle sat in a corner with ropes and a cowboy hat hanging on the wall over it. The western décor created an interesting contradiction to the modern architecture. The fourth wall had a huge sandstone fireplace with rust, gray and tan hues that complemented the earthy colors of the paintings. Bulky furniture completed the room. Simple, sturdy and comfortable, with a hint of sophistication—it all matched the man. He guided her past the couch and to the stairs. When they reached the top, Blake turned to her. “I need to get the dust off. Bath or shower?”
She bit her lip. “Indecision. Indecision.” She backed away, deliberating as she circled him. He watched her perusal over his shoulder as she stopped behind him. “Bath, I think.” He’d shed his chaps in the barn. Such a shame. Fantasizing about him in nothing but those chaps, tight ass peeking over leather-clad thighs, had been her favorite pastime over the last few weeks.
“I’ll be right in.” He nudged her toward the door at the end of he hall. “Start the water.” He couldn’t seem to help chuckling at the sexy pout she threw him. “Go on.”