Brent’s hand was inside her robe in an instant, fingers gliding through her labia. He plunged a finger deep inside her pussy, pulled it out then plunged in two. Yes. It’s what she’d been dying for. What she’d craved. She squeezed her eyes shut to battle moans that desperately tried breaking free. Then he reached between their bodies and fidgeted with his pants to unleash his cock.
“Don’t move, baby.”
His whispered voice washed over her like a second blanket, bathing her in sweat from brow to neck.
And after he’d weaseled a condom from his wallet and slid it over his penis, he maneuvered their bodies into a workable position. Once he’d situated the tip at her vaginal opening, he slipped a finger inside her mouth. “Suck it as hard as you need to, but don’t move and don’t say a word.”
It tasted dewy and she realized it was the finger he’d stuffed inside her. It forced blood pumping straight to her clit in an arousing thump.
“Do you hear me, Annalee?”
Low and clear. She nodded.
“Suck,” he ordered, and at the same time he shoved his cock in her to the hilt in one long, jarring stroke.
She sucked his finger hard to squelch a pleasurable cry. Her vaginal walls expanded, exposing teeny nerves that sparked while conforming and contracting around the width and length of his penis.
“Relax, baby. Don’t grip me.”
Don’t make a sound. Don’t move. Don’t grip me. Argh, was he trying to torture her? Then, as if it were possible, he rammed his cock deeper. And that’s where he stayed, filling her to maximum capacity. And he remained completely still except for a periodic, languid thrust or soft fingertip swirl on her clit, driving her mindless with need, over and over, teasing, tantalizing and tormenting her to the point he silenced her with his hand because she couldn’t control her moans.
“You’re not coming until the movie ends, Annalee, so hold on tight to your endurance.”
How long was the frigging movie? So far it felt like a world premiere miniseries. She couldn’t name the title, identify which actors played the starring roles nor tell the theme because she’d squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated on not squeezing the big cock she wasn’t allowed to grip with her pussy—unless she wanted her clit pinched, which she’d discovered the hard way.
Seriously, how much longer could it be? Would he make her wait until the credits rolled past the screen too?
And then she heard the sweetest sound ever—Brody softly snoring. What a teary, joyous discovery. She unclamped her eyes and glanced at him for confirmation then craned her neck to look at Brent. Immediately his dark eyes locked on hers. “Brody’s asleep,” she choked out.
“And?”
And? That’s all he had to say? Technically, he shouldn’t have said anything and just gotten down to business. “And I want you to finish making love to me.”
“The movie isn’t over yet.”
It’d be over if she could get her hands on something to throw through the damn television screen. That’d take care of the immediate problem and any future TV issues.
Ooooh, men!
Fine. If he wanted to make her a martyr, dang it, why couldn’t she turn the tables? “Well, that’s really too bad,” she whispered. In spite of being told not to move, she clenched her vaginal walls and gave him a hardy squeeze. He didn’t flinch—didn’t even bat an eye. Damn his restraint to hell. “Because I’d planned on giving you a blowjob. But it’s getting late so I guess it’ll have to wait.”
“It’s not even 7:30. There’s plenty of time.”
Whatever, Brent.
He grinned. “Nice try.”
She thought so too. Now what?
She sighed, laid her head down and closed her eyes. It wasn’t the smartest move because she grew acutely aware of the cock buried inside her. The sensations deepened, and she swore she felt every detail from the ridge nicking her walls to the vein throbbing against the soft inner tissue. And as she concentrated on ignoring the thrilling intrusion, he initiated a languid, fragile in-and-out rhythm.
A groan built in her throat, but she swallowed it in case Brody had awakened. Then she felt warm breath caress her hair and Brent’s hand tightened around her waist, tugging her ass even closer to his body.
“Is this what you want, Annalee?”
Dear God, yes. She nodded because if she opened her mouth to speak she’d squeak or squeal or scream.
“Drape your leg over mine.”
As she positioned her calf over his shin her thighs slightly parted. And when he removed his hand from her waist, snaked his fingers through her slit and toyed with her clitoris, she sucked in air and buried her face in the cushion.
“Do you want to finish this in your room?”
Yes, but she refused to get off the couch. The climax was too close to postpone for a jaunt down the hall. She shook her head.
“Squeeze my cock.”
In the midst of tightening her vagina, his long, steady strokes switched to short, quick jabs. He increased the pressure on her clit. She slid her hand between his ass and the couch and clenched his cheek. The muscles flexed and loosed during each thrust of his penis.
Oh shit. Oh shit. A euphoric wave of utter bliss rushed through her veins, heating her blood. The tips of her nerves tingled then her insides burst into an orgasmic rainbow of color. Her tummy jerked and vaginal muscles contracted, tugging his cock deeper. It plunged to the hilt and stilled. And she swore she felt it pulsing inside her as Brent ejaculated into the condom.
She relaxed with a content sigh and flipped onto her opposite side so she could snuggle her face against his chest. As he wrapped his arm around her back and urged her closer, she found comfort in his strong, thunderous heartbeat.
She definitely could get used to relaxing in his arms every night. It felt right. And while she thought she’d had everything in life she needed, she realized without someone like him, she’d actually had nothing at all. “Brent, can I get you anything?”
“No thanks, baby. I’d rather just lie here and hold you until Thursday.”
Chapter Six
Annalee grabbed onto Brent’s forearm to brace herself when the restaurant did a quick spin. She’d drunk too many whiskey and sodas, but they tasted good—a little sweet—and went down really smooth. How many had she had so far? Four? Five? She started counting on her fingers, which earned her a questionable expression from Brent. Yeah, this was her fifth. That was way too many to swallow on an empty stomach.
She rarely ate dinner out, but the brothers made the call. Probably because she’d rubberized the steaks Sunday night and charred the pork chops last night. But hey, it’s not like she hadn’t forewarned them about her cooking skills when they’d decided to stay.
She didn’t drink often either, but on the few occasions she had, she limited herself to one or two to avoid this buzzed feeling. She couldn’t handle liquor well, and proved it Saturday night at Whiltby’s party when she’d gotten tipsy drinking only three. But that was Jared’s fault, and she’d needed to unwind.
Sleeping with Brent for the past three nights proved how much she hated sleeping alone. And not because of the sex—she hadn’t gotten much during previous months, so she hadn’t missed it. She craved the security of masculine arms wrapped tightly around her waist while being spooned. Especially those belonging to the man she’d lusted over for years. The euphoria caused by his protective embrace boggled her mind. Gosh, she felt so small when scrunched against his huge body.
They shared a mutual attraction she couldn’t deny. But Lord, why would she want to? She sparked flames whenever they’d touched. Her belly had been in constant spirals since the party. And so far, they’d made gentle love all night long, participated in controlled sex—her being the controlee—yum, and had spells of quick sex—which blasted Jared’s quick fucks out of the water. And then there was the one where Brody remained in the same room. Holy cow, the thrill of trying not to get caught while Brent lay with his cock buried deep ins
ide her was incredible. What an assortment of total deliciousness for a girl used to the same ole routine. Brent was an insatiable fucking machine.
Jared who?
The hunger in Brent’s eyes still flooded her in warmth. Like now, sitting beside him in the booth set her panties on fire. His black shirt sleeves were double folded, exposing his muscular forearms, and he’d left the top three buttons unfastened. Dark, fine hairs lightly coated his breastbone, and his chest was just, wowser.
She squirmed in the red vinyl seat and crossed her legs, welcoming the much-needed break to her aching thighs. When she returned from work last night and this evening, she hadn’t even taken off her coat before he’d yanked off her panties and hose, laid her on the kitchen table and fucked her crazy. And then came more. A lot more. The man’s stamina wouldn’t quit.
The vision spurred an enticing jolt along her spine. If she didn’t kill it immediately, she’d be leaving a wet spot on the seat. It didn’t really bother her, but the next patron might not appreciate it much. She hiccupped right before she lifted her glass and sipped the drink. “What time did you tell Brody to meet us?”
Brent glanced at her glass then at her as if saying, You know what time, Annalee. “Seven.”
She released his arm and woke up her cell phone to check the time. The numbers appeared a little blurry before they started wiggling. Freaky. She shifted it back into sleep mode and placed it on the table.
If he showed up on time, they had at least twenty more minutes to wait before placing their dinner order. It wasn’t a big deal. The alcohol filled her up just fine. Although arriving early to relax and have a few drinks wasn’t the best idea she’d ever had. “So, Brent,” she blurted, glancing around the restaurant. For a Tuesday evening it was pretty packed. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”
“My only regret is waiting so long.”
Should she ask why he’d waited even though it didn’t seem important at the moment? If he’d arrived any sooner, she would’ve still been engaged to Jared, and this congenial affair wouldn’t be taking place. She’d have missed the opportunity to be on the receiving end of Brent’s sexual appetite. Now that would’ve been a deprivation worth crying over.
“Come ride the waves with me sometime, Annalee.”
She nearly choked. Ride the waves? “Excuse me?”
He snickered. “Accompany me out to sea.”
Out to sea? She smiled and lowered her gaze to the dessert menu. “That sounds romantic.” And sexy.
“I can make it whatever you want.”
She didn’t doubt that.“I love the water, but I haven’t stepped foot off shore since my high school girlfriend Rochelle drowned in Rocky River.” Annalee would never, ever forget how desperately she fought to save Rochelle’s life. “Our canoe flipped.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Do you want to talk about it?”
She shrugged and fidgeted with her glass, listening to ice cubes tinkle against the sides as she spun it in a slow circle. “Not really.”
“Annalee?” He rubbed her cheek with the back of his hand.
“It’s just,” she sighed, tightening her hand around the tumbler, and took a long, hearty drink. “I couldn’t save her.”
“It sounds like you’re blaming yourself.”
“No, not anymore. I did everything possible. Her head smacked a huge rock when we tipped. She was barely conscious and couldn’t tread water when the current started pulling her downstream.”
“No lifejacket?”
“It fell off.” One minute she sat in the canoe wearing a bright-orange vest, then the next, when she bobbed up from the river, it was gone. “I reached her and grasped hold of her arm, but when the undercurrent yanked us under, she slipped from my hands.” God, it was so frightening, and she regretted her lack of strength to hold onto Rochelle long enough to drag her to safety. “I couldn’t see anything through the mucky water, and I panicked because I couldn’t find Rochelle.”
“You’re lucky to be alive.” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers.
The kind gesture filled her with warmth. “At the time, when the current was whipping me around like a rag doll, slamming me into boulders, I didn’t think so.” She couldn’t even imagine what Rochelle endured. “But after it finally spit me out near an embankment where campers pulled me to safety, I thanked God for sparing my life.”
“And Rochelle?”
She glanced into his eyes. “They found her body tangled in a group of fallen trees the following evening. I couldn’t participate in the search because the doctor had admitted me to the hospital for observation.” It took her a long time to overcome that hurdle in her life. Truth was, she did blame herself for Rochelle’s death, and it took an entire year to get through the tragedy.
“Undercurrents are a powerful force. You really are lucky. I can’t imagine your injuries.”
“Broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder and six stitches on my right hip.”
“I’ve seen the scar.”
She flushed. “Now you know what caused it.” He’d made love to it with his mouth many times over the past few days. “It’s the first time I ever saw my dad cry.”
“I can understand why. His baby girl encountered a close call.”
Her fingers trembled as she brought the drink to her lips. Was the trembling because the memories still upset her, or because of the manner in which Brent glared at her now—his peepers were performing a mass seduction all over her body. She tipped the glass and swallowed. Yikes. Major head rush. “Why do you know so much about me, but I know nothing about you?”
“You never asked.”
I wanted to but was too scared. “Look at you now. You’re a pirate.”
“I’m not a pirate.” He smiled a crooked smile. “There’s nothing like riding the seas, Annalee. It’s one of the most relaxing excursions you’ll ever encounter.”
Just the thought of lying on a bed with Brent and floating with the water’s motion turned her on. “I bet it is. You pick the date.” The relaxing, beautiful, deep-blue sea had no idea what she was in for with Brent Delaney and Annalee Parschen riding her waves.
Whoa, her head was getting fuzzy, and the room slightly tilted. She clutched the table.
“Can I get you folks another drink?”
Annalee’s head snapped up. The friendly blonde hostess who’d too liberally flirted with Brent during the last refill had returned. Seriously, didn’t it matter how close Annalee sat beside him?
Well, she’d fix that. Grabbing Brent’s thigh, she pulled herself even closer.
Really, who could blame the blonde for oogly-googling him? A man with his prominent good looks and stature didn’t go unnoticed. Annalee should just be thankful for the distraction because it chopped up their gloomy conversation. Whenever she talked about Rochelle, it brought her to tears. “None for me thanks,” Annalee said. She really wanted one but she’d already had too much. How many again?
Maybe when Brody arrived the hostess would switch her attention to him, since his gorgeousness would be sitting alone on the empty bench.
Annalee lowered her gaze to Brent and playfully batted her lashes. “What about you, babe? Would you like another beer before dinner?” Holy moly, the room tilted to the opposite side. That shift should’ve leveled it, but it didn’t.
He glanced at Annalee over his nose. “Sure, one more,” he responded, not removing his eyes from Annalee’s superficial grin.
“Another beer coming up. I’ll be right back, sweetie,” Blondie said, then turned and rushed toward the bar, wiggling her ass in a thigh-high, tight black skirt.
Surprisingly he kept his gaze on Annalee and refrained from noticing the hostess’s pear-shaped derriere. And he’s damn lucky he did. Sweetie!
Both of his brows rose humorously. “Babe? You feeling a little tipsy?”
A lot, actually. Possibly too much. “I had to get her attention somehow. She acted like I wasn’t even here. I could’ve been choking
to death and she wouldn’t have noticed me.”
“You’re hard not to notice.”
Really? “So, when you’re not rowing a boat—”
“It has a motor.” He smiled and shook his head.
“When you’re not rowing a motorboat, what do you do for fun?” She took a gulp and set the glass on the table.
“You surprise me, Annalee.”
“I do?”
“You’re very yielding.”
He’s got to be kidding. “My subordinates won’t agree.”
“I’m talking sexually.”
Sexually? Now what brought that on?Did he intend to seduce her in the restaurant in front of all these people? Okay, whatever. I’m game. “I’m not yielding.” Well, maybe a little. Okay, maybe a lot. Why wouldn’t she be with a hunk like him calling all the shots? “Let’s just say I’m,” she paused for a moment and hiccupped, “spontaneously curious.” Man, his thigh was rock-hard. What other rock-hard element did he hide in those jeans?
“And how far would you go in these cases of spontaneity?”
Was he going to take advantage of her not sober condition and ask all sorts of silly questions? She shot him a little flirty smile, but boy were her cheeks hot. “That depends.”
His lids narrowed over sparkling, dark eyes. “On?”
“Who’s in charge.”
He reclined against the back of the booth, folding both arms across his chest. “Let’s start with you.”
“Well,” she stole another sip of her drink, “I don’t mind making the first move.”
“Are you uncomfortable when given control?”
“No. I utilize it at work every day.”
“We’re not talking work, Annalee.”
Oh yeah, I forgot. Wow, he looked so serious. And so dang handsome with his hair hanging over his shoulders, just how she liked it, and those dark, mysterious eyes. “Honestly, I prefer my men to take control most of the time.”
“Christ, you talk like you have an unlimited supply. How many have you had?”
“Jared and you.” She smiled. “Two.” She held up an index and middle finger. “If you would’ve dated me back then, you would’ve nabbed yourself a virgin. Oops.” She slapped a hand over her mouth.
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