Beholden (The Beguiling Bachelors Book 2)

by Madison Michael

  “You have a gorgeous body,” she told him as she continued to stroke his skin.

  The man was built like Atlas, all muscle and strength, and Sloane thought of him in those terms suddenly. Randall really did have the weight of the world on his shoulders. He held a lot together. When he was tender, kind and serious like now she was able to see just how good he was at taking care of people.

  Oh yeah, he sure took care of me. When do we do that again?

  “What? What is that little smile? Ready to go again?”

  “Why,” she asked coyly, “too soon for you, old man?”

  “Old? Who you calling old?” With that, he pulled her so she was lying on top of him. She could feel the hard length of him hot and huge against her flat stomach.

  “Ooh, maybe not so old,” she laughed, sitting up and straddling his narrow hips with her slim thighs. He quickly grabbed protection that she rolled into place, just before wrapping her slender fingers around his blatant masculinity and sheathing him in her wet and welcoming body. When he was fully seated and stretching her, she sat still for a long moment reveling in the feeling of this gorgeous, hot man filling her completely. Impatient, Randall took hold of her waist and helped lift and lower her on his shaft while she circled her slim hips to maximize the erotic stimulation.

  “Ride ‘em, Cowgirl,” he said with a smile. “You look very pleased with yourself right now. I know you love to be on top where you are back in control, calling the shots.”

  “I promise to make it worth your while, Randall, so just put yourself in my capable hands.”

  “That does not feel a bit like your hands, but feel free to use them too.” Randall bent his hands behind his head like a man with all the time in the world and locked eyes with Sloane, probing deeply into the depths of her for a hint at this enigmatic woman.

  Then he closed his eyes in sheer bliss and let her work her magic for the pleasure of them both.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The pair finally got out of bed about an hour later, but only long enough to go to the bathroom and get something for their parched throats. Glasses in hand, they returned to Sloane’s bedroom and climbed under the rumpled coverlet, propping their backs against a surfeit of pillows.

  “You confound me, Sloane,” Randall confessed, punching down a couple of pillows before propping them behind him. “To the outside world you are all prickly and angular, but in here you are all soft and mushy.”

  “Is that some kind of insult?” The vulnerability in her voice prompted Randall to lean over and give her a sweet, lingering kiss. Coming up for air with a last quick nibble on her lips, he extended his arm, pointing from corner to corner, the sweeping gesture taking in the entire bedroom.

  “Not at all, but look at this room.” The two took a moment to survey the surroundings.

  Sloane looked about her. She was reclining against the upholstered headboard that reached halfway up the wall behind her, perfect for reading in bed. The linens were soft and expensive, white with French lace edging. At the foot of the bed, wedged between the footboard and two, diminutive mirror-legged stools, were the rest of the bed linens, in a tangle where they had kicked them. They included a lovely summery-white duvet cover edged in elegant blue flowers and a pale blue cashmere throw blanket. The bed skirt was the same crisp white as the duvet with a one-inch blue border skimming the plush white on white rug.

  Looking beyond the end of the bed Sloane’s view took in the mirrored dresser and the pale blue side tables topped with delicate Murano glass lamps. There was a large, healthy fiddle leaf fig tree in a giant white vase masking the metal radiator behind it. Blocking the afternoon sun were floor to ceiling curtains that matched the bed skirt. She had a few pictures of her family and a small budvase on the end tables, and a comfy, blue overstuffed chair that was presently hidden by Randall’s carelessly tossed clothing.

  “What? I don’t see any problem. This room is peaceful.” Sloane was clearly on the defensive so Randall hesitated a moment, choosing his words carefully once he continued.

  “It is peaceful, Sloane. It is also frilly. I just think people would expect you to live in a steel and glass structure with modern furniture in shades of black,” Randall observed. “Instead, you are all powder blues, pillows and antiques. You are a complex woman, my dear.”

  “I just like what I like, I guess,” she offered in return. “I like soft things, pretty things. And I like you.”

  “Good thing you added that last statement,” he pronounced running his hand boldly over her abdomen then across her protruding hipbones. “Speaking of soft things, do you ever eat? There is not a drop of food in your refrigerator and you really are skin and bones.”

  “I have been worried, and when I worry it is harder for me to eat. Staying home and eating junk food, I have actually gained a pound or two. Trust me, if you open the cabinet doors instead of the fridge there is plenty to eat here. I subsist on potato chips and Oreos. Who needs more?”

  “I do. I am a growing man who skipped his lunch – thank you very much – and has worked up a serious appetite. What do you say we get dressed, pick up Maria, start with happy hour then dinner, then hopefully lots of celebratory champagne?”

  “I hope you are right about the champagne. That would be fantastic.” Sloane popped up in the bed, leaned over Randall’s solid chest, planting a kiss on his full lips. “Let’s grab a shower and you can tell me everything.”

  “Yes, to the showers,” he agreed as if issuing a command, “but it’s Maria’s tale to tell so I have to save what is left of the surprise for her.”

  “I hate waiting, but okay.”

  With that, Randall jumped from the bed, energy restored despite the sweaty activities of the last hour. Sloane slapped his ass playfully, and then scooted out of the bed to avoid retaliation.

  Reaching into a hall closet, she grabbed Randall an oversized bath sheet and pointed to the guest bath. Grabbing the towel, he commented on its pale blue color and followed her into her bath. He showed every sign of following her into her shower, so she relented, hanging his towel next to hers on a large hook. She proceeded to twist the water handle for the large showerhead hanging over the old-fashioned claw-foot tub, surrounded by a pale blue, floral shower curtain.

  Waiting for the water to heat, Sloane gathered her hair away from her face and neck, securing it on top of her head with a large clip. She tested the temperature of the water, nodded her approval and Randall held her arm chivalrously as she stepped over the high ledge and into the tub. At the last second, he returned her earlier swat to the behind and they both laughed. Climbing in behind her, Randall filled the large space as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her passionately, unleashing a hint of their earlier desire.

  Sloane reached for the scented bath gel and a pouf. When she started to lather her body, Randall took the pouf from her, placed it back on the shower rack and poured a sizeable amount of the expensive gel into his hands instead. He began running his slippery hands all over her body, first her back, then around the cheeks of her butt, taking his time, rubbing, kneading and caressing her. Pulling her soapy body to slither against his, her back to his front, he wrapped his hands around her and began stroking her abdomen then breasts and chest. His hand rose to slide across her, pinning her firmly against him with a large hand. Having her immobilized, he slid a lathered hand between her thighs to stroke her core.

  His touch was light at first, then more insistent. He was sliding his powerful body against her slippery back and butt while stroking her center with his large hand. Sloane was unable to move, only able to feel his hard body sliding against her while his even, slippery fingers drove her to new heights. Randall again had the aces in the delicious power game they were playing, but Sloane was winning as well, feeling sensations she had never allowed herself to feel when she had refused to lose control.

  Turning Sloane in his arms, Randall dipped his head to claim her mouth, exploring its moist heat with his probing tongue, wh
ile his hand seductively palmed her sensitive flesh. Lulled into a slow burn by his gentle motions, her body felt a fiery shock that escalated her desire instantly as Randall stuck first one, then two, long, thick fingers inside of her. He leaned into her chest, pressing her shoulder blades against the wall, and then bending his knees slightly to be at the right height, he slid himself deep into her in one fluid motion. He was almost lifting her off her feet with each plunging thrust as he took her hard and fast against the cold tile wall.

  Sloane was pinned in place, her legs wrapped tight around Randall’s muscular torso, the pressure of his hard body and powerful thrusts wedging her to the wall. One hand held her butt, squeezing the globe in time with his motions. Titling back to open a small space between their bodies, he slid his other hand until it was tight to the bud between her thighs. Soon, his fingers were working her with sure, knowing motions and she was straining, her body craving the release just out of reach. Randall’s hands and body were relentless, until she shuddered and lost control, moaning her joy. She catapulted over the edge, electricity flowing through her veins followed by liquid pleasure.

  “Again,” he coerced before she could catch her breath, his fingers working faster, as he thrust into her ruthlessly, so she slid up the wall, forced to wrap her legs more tightly about him. Her breasts were rubbing against his soapy muscled chest as he continued to thrust, her nipples hard and oversensitive despite his slippery skin.

  “I can’t,” she whispered, exhausted. “I never can, without a rest first.”

  “You can, Sloane. Just trust me and let go.” Randall’s head swooped down and he captured her swollen lips in a searing kiss sucking her tongue into his mouth, mimicking the motions of their bodies. He released her swollen lips after swallowing her increased breaths and moans. “I want this for you, Babe. You can give this to me; give this to you. Now, Sloane. Come for me now.”

  Sloane was amazed as the most intense orgasm shattered her body almost as if on Randall’s command. She shouted, her chest heaving, her legs trembling, as she felt Randall spill his seed deep inside her. She could feel his whole body quiver from the exertion as she sagged into him, completely spent.

  Resting her head back against the tile, Sloane strived to catch her breath. The man had proven himself insatiable, and utterly fantastic. Each time she was sure she was incapable of more, he managed to coax another incredible orgasm from her. Now, her quivering legs could barely hold her and his arm around her was supporting most of her weight as he slid from her body. She felt a poignant loss at his withdrawal, wanting more, although she knew her sore muscles needed at least a short break. His right hand was gently soaping her arms and then her legs while he used his left to keep her from sliding in a weary heap to the floor.

  “We forgot about protection,” he mumbled sheepishly. “I know I am safe, but it was unforgiveable of me.”

  “I am safe too, and using birth control. But we definitely should have had this conversation earlier,” she admitted with a scolding frown.

  When he was sure she was back on her own feet, he grabbed the gel and quickly washed and rinsed himself, water sluicing down his powerful body. She leaned against the wall, forehead resting on the cool tile, breathing becoming less ragged. Randall turned her in his arms, holding her gently, giving her a lingering soft kiss while reaching behind her to turn off the water.

  “Thank you, Sloane. That was incredible. You were incredible.” His voice was honeyed and intimate.

  Stepping out, he ran the large blue towel quickly over his arms and chest, then wrapped it around his torso. The feminine color just made him look more masculine and Sloane openly admired the view. He grabbed the second large towel from the hook and wrapped Sloane in it as she stepped from the large tub.

  “You are killing me, woman,” he bellowed with a proud, he-man grin on his handsome face.

  “Me? You think I am killing you? You have that backwards, Neanderthal.” Sloane responded. She softened the name-calling with a quick kiss and then started to laugh.

  “I love that sound,” he whispered close to her ear. “You need to laugh more. I want to make you laugh more.”

  Sloane’s head whipped around to make eye contact. “You want more?”

  “Well, not this very second,” Randall countered. “But later tonight, sure. Tomorrow, the next day. Next week…”

  “Not a one night stand?” She suddenly appeared little girl shy, hope in her question.

  “One day stand would be more accurate, but no, not that either, Sloane. I want to try you and me, really make an effort to get it right. You challenge me. You intrigue me. I want to stick around and get to know you, know us. Is that okay with you?”

  “Oh yes. That is very okay.”

  “But this only works if I get food, and soon.” Randall announced, shifting the mood immediately as he went to find his clothes. Sloane was following when she caught a glimpse of herself in the steamy mirror. She halted there, spending a few minutes trying to do something about the abrasions on her chin from Randall’s new beard.

  “Ah, to hell with it,” she said aloud, after failing to cover it with tinted moisturizer. “It is my badge of honor.” Laughing to herself, she went to claim Randall, dress up a bit and head out. Finally, after all this time, there were things to celebrate.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Since they never made it to the Peninsula for lunch, Randall settled for the drive-thru at the ‘rock and roll’ McDonald’s on LaSalle. He wolfed down two Big Macs in record time. Although he encouraged Sloane to order, he was only able to convince her to share his large order of French fries. He was not surprised when he reached for a few more and they were already gone. She really did like junk food.

  Randall was relieved to get a second chance after that disastrous night at the Cubs game. He never apologized for walking away and she never questioned him about it. It was as if there was a mutual agreement: “the less said, the better.” He was here now and that was all that mattered.

  Pulling into his reserved space in the PPHP garage, Randall gave Sloane an evaluating look. Her elegant straight blue dress stopped just above her knees. It had sleeves to just below her elbows and she looked long, lean and sophisticated. Her lustrous hair was tucked back in a neat chignon, but he could still remember it flowing through his fingers like heavy threads of silk. He felt his body stirring again. She looked cool and in control, so different than just a few hours ago.

  Don’t think about hours ago or you will not be able to walk.

  The woman was incredible – responsive, sensuous, willing to lead or follow. Her body was slim to the point of skinny, but her breasts were lovely, her stomach taut and flat, and her legs long and muscular. She could wrap around him like a cobra and he loved sinking deep into her and watching her hold on for the ride.

  Stop thinking about it. Think about the acquisition. Think about French fries. Think about anything else.

  Feeling his erection subside, Randall inched into the parking space, turned off the car and went around to open Sloane’s door. She sat demure, waiting for him to help her from the car and he did not disappoint. The etiquette and manners drummed into him as a young boy would pay off with this woman. He had been raised to treat a woman like a lady and she had been raised to expect it.

  He took her hand to help her from the car and didn’t let it go until they stepped from the elevator into the hushed offices of PPHP. Then he let go only to move his own to the small of her back, ushering her down the plush-carpeted corridors toward his imposing corner office.

  Sloane understood business. She was savvy enough to recognize that this huge corner office was designed to both intimidate and impress. Finance was about trust, the belief that this company understood wealth - how to acquire and protect it. This space perpetuated the image of success, of a solid company that could stand the test of time. All of that was intentional. The surroundings were created to lull clients like Sloane into trusting that their money was well cared for,
that they were in the most capable of hands. And Randall knew Sloane needed to believe all this was true. Especially today, when so much was riding on his team to make a miracle occur.

  Randall could see that notwithstanding Sloane’s comprehension of the use of surroundings, she was impressed all the same. Dark wood paneling covered the walls; a heavy wooden desk dominated the space. An elegant and enormous Turkish rug covered most of the floor, absorbing hushed conversations and footsteps. The art was modern, in neutral tones. Everything looked powerful, curated and expensive. The views were the best that money could buy.

  As they had passed her office, Randall had asked Amy to call upstairs and let Maria know they had arrived. Soon they could see Maria bustling toward them down the hallway, full of excitement. She met Sloane with a hearty, no-nonsense handshake as soon as she moved through the door.

  No limp wristed stuff for these women, Maria instantly conveyed that same sense of assurance and confidence that the offices created. She treated Sloane as if she were her only client, or at least the only one that mattered. Observing these two women, Randall was bowled-over. They were powerhouses and they knew it. He could actually observe Sloane’s transformative return to her former status. it was evident in her stature and her voice – the confident, feisty Sloane was back in full force.

  Sweeping the skirt of her no-nonsense navy suit under her, Maria seated herself across from Sloane. Leaning forward, her highlighted, chin-length hair swung forward to hide her face. Maria pushed it back impatiently and began without preamble, “I am so glad you came in. My team and I have made a terrific deal for you today. My assistant will be down shortly with the papers for you to sign. We have an awesome deal. You will be so happy. It is better than we could have ever hoped, Sloane. You will be thrilled.”

  Maria was almost tripping over her words with enthusiasm. Randall had stepped out as the two women began speaking, but once he was sure they had completed all but the signatures, he returned quickly to sit beside Sloane on the sofa. His presence seemed to remind Maria of her professionalism, because she took a deep breath before continuing more slowly.