The Arrangement 21
Page 2
"Oh, please," I tease, hiding his effect on me. "That's pillow talk for someone like you."
Sean's face shifts and the dark man living inside of him merges with the one who loves me. He steps toward me, and I step back. "Do I need to take you to the shed, Miss Smith?"
I shrug as if he doesn't faze me even though my heart races wildly and the spot between my legs heats way too fast. "That depends. What will we do in there?"
Sean's trying not to show that predatory smile. The corners of his mouth twitch as he steps toward me. His hand juts out and grabs my waist, pulling me forward, slamming me into his hips. There's no mistaking the hard shaft beneath those slacks now pressing substantially against my stomach. I gasp as we collide.
He dips me back slightly, one hand behind my back and the other at my neck. That hot gaze is erratic, darting from my eyes to my lips. He tips my head back, brushing his lips to my ear and I feel his arousal increase.
The warm air and the caress of his mouth make it hard to hide my reaction. I gasp at the sensation of his lips on my skin, wanting more as he pulls away.
His face hosts a carnal look that once terrified me. Honestly, it's still scary. Sean drags me upright and crushes me against his chest. "First, I'll rip this slip from your body, tearing it down the middle and using it to tie your arms above your head. The rafters are low in the shed. You could stand like that, naked, arms bound above your head, those perfect breasts and hot, wet pussy exposed for me to do as I like."
Flutters fill my stomach, but I manage a bored yawn. "Really? Is that all you've got, Box Boy? No dark fantasies you'd rather explore?" I shift my weight, pulling back slightly, letting my breasts brush his chest. Even with the fabric between us, I can tell what it does to him. Though my words are freeing, my actions commit me.
Sean's chest rises and falls as he tries to control his breathing. His body tenses, as if he knows precisely what he wants to do to me. I see it in his eyes, in the way his lips curve into a seductive smile he only uses on his prey. He wets the dark pink skin with his tongue and, as they part, his eyes devour me. A dark fantasy plays out behind his eyes.
"Tell me." My voice catches in my throat. It's not intentional, it's a reaction to his dominance, to the way he's looking at me. A chill slips down my spine, and I shiver.
Sean pulls me to him, slowly, taking one arm at a time, leading me so I rest them on his narrow hips. He holds one hand against my back, palm open, and leans in placing his lips on my ear.
My pulse pounds in my ears, as this provocative scene plays out. My face is blank, staring at him, challenging him in that way he doesn't like, but secretly loves. An alpha asserts control and forces his authority. It thrills me. I admit I like feeling so vulnerable that all I have is trust. It's rare. I don't trust anyone the way I trust him and I never surrender all of myself except in moments when he makes me.
It's a strange feeling I didn't realize I liked at first. Well, that's not entirely accurate. I was appalled that I enjoyed it. I wanted to be dominated by him, but had no idea why. Now I do—it's trust. I know he can push me too far. I know he can break me. But he won't. He'll make my heart pound with ecstasy, forcing me to my limits, commanding me to come harder and feel higher than I thought possible.
I feel his lips part as he prepares to speak. "No," he whispers.
Ah! Fine, if that's how he wants to play it. I pull away, shrug, and smile coyly. "Just as well, I didn't want it anyway."
He grabs me, pulls my front to his, his fingers sliding up my inner thigh, forcing my legs apart. He doesn't ask, he doesn't wait. His fingers slip inside me, pulsing, stroking, teasing. Sean's eyes bore into me. I'm panting, reacting visibly as my body betrays my lie. "Really? Not into it? You could have fooled me. You're dripping. You're so wet that I could drink you." The way he says those last few words is so sexy. His mouth wraps around them slowly, carefully caressing every syllable. It's the pre-show for what he plans to do to me.
I arch my back and push against his hand, lips parted in an "O." A voice too breathy to belong to me teases, "Don't be silly. I get this way around all the guys."
The response is immediate. Sean pushes into me harder, adding another finger, stretching me. My knee rises as I straddle his hip. "You're mine, and I'm the only one who can affect you like this." He moves his fingers inside me, pressing them to a place that steals my breath and weakens my knees. I lean against him as he pulls his hand away.
I'm so turned on I don't see the guy standing a few feet away, beet red, not sure if he should speak or run away. Sean says nothing. It's as if he knew the guy was standing there. I straighten my slip and feel my face flame up.
Slip. Lawn. Nerd. Sean.
Oh, God!
Sean gestures for the guy to come over. When he gets here, my eyes widen. "Asthma Attack, are you okay? Do you need an inhaler?" I'm not trying to be a bitch. I forgot his name. Hell, I forgot my name!
"I'm fine, Miss." He doesn't sound fine.
Then again, neither do I.
My jaw drops. I lean in and whisper-yell, "You knew he was there, didn't you?"
He hears me and hastily says, "I didn't see a damned thing." His face is so red he could be a crayon.
"Then why are you blushing?" I blink at him like he has two heads. He totally saw.
Justin clears his throat and looks at Sean. "The, uh, boulder holder bra provides a nice view for you, but it's a little awkward for me. Of course, I don't have to look." He adds the last part swiftly, and backs up like Sean might break his face.
My slip is smooth silk adorned with lace sewn along the upper cup and hem, an amazing push-up bra up top. When I look down, I blanch. All that flirting left me hot. I didn't notice the lace line on the cups shifted down, exposing the tops of my nipples. Even in the dark, the tops of my nips are clearly visible. I squeak and turn around, adjusting things back where they go. The truth is, when you wear your breasts up around your neck, the girls look great, but they can pop out. It's not like I can tell unless one falls. I'd notice wonky boobs, one up one down—but a popped tit, not so much. It was still in the bra—well, on it.
I'm pretty sure I can smell my makeup burning into smoke and wafting off my face in a little cloud.
Sean's hand is on my shoulder. "He didn't see anything."
I give Sean an incredulous look. "He just said—" I'm jabbing my finger at the guy, horrified when they both cut me off.
Justin is shaking his head like crazy, avoiding my eyes. "I didn't see anything."
"He didn't see that," Sean says, alluding to the thing he did with his hand that had me so hot. Sean smacks the kid in the back of the head. "Anyway, it's not that bad. He was staring at your rack and noticed you're pretty."
They're both lying to me. I laugh, shrugging my shoulders. "It's weird, right? A prude hooker."
Before Sean can reply, Justin says, "You're not a prude, and you're not a hooker. You're Avery Stanz, the woman with balls the size of Texas, the woman taking out Vic Jr. without a second thought." He gets a bashful expression on his face and adds, "Furthermore, you're so beautiful, it's hard to not notice." He flinches. "Sorry, boss."
Sean looks like he wants to kill Justin, but I take Sean's hand in mine, lift it to my lips and press a kiss to the back of his hand. Addressing Justin, I say, "Thank you."
"No problem." He gazes up at me from under his lashes, gets a goofy grin, and resumes avoiding eye contact with Sean. He swallows hard and manages to straighten. "So, are we doing this?"
"Doing what?" I glance between them, not understanding.
"Yes," he says to Justin. "It'll only be a moment, Avery." Sean's voice isn't tense the way I thought it'd be. His expression instantly softens as his eyes cut to the side, to me. The way the moonlight illuminates his face is surreal. It's like he's been kissed by a star on each cheek. Those eyes that undo me are soft and pure. He watches me from behind dark lashes, caught in a moment of bliss.
CHAPTER 4
Tall oak trees tower above me ca
sting a lacy pattern on the lawn. I kick off my hooker heels because this grass demands bare feet. Sean follows my lead before walking a few paces away with Justin.
Their heads nearly touch, their shoulders leaning forward, and they speak almost noiselessly. The exchange is brief. When Sean turns back around, Justin leaves quickly in the opposite direction. If there were a dog on his heels, he'd be moving slower.
Sean Ferro is a scary man.
He walks toward me, a swagger in his step, and sex in his eyes. He devours me with his gaze and sends a spark up my spine. When he reaches me, Sean laces his fingers with mine. I lean my head on his shoulder for a moment as we walk further into the property, losing ourselves amongst the gnarled trees. I don't trust myself to speak. My throat is too tight. I'm that happy, that emotional.
Sean squeezes my hand as if he knows what I'm thinking. I glance up at him. The hollows of his cheeks are in shadow, making him look delicious. My mind drifts to his threats from a few moments ago.
"Avery?" Sean turns to peer down at me.
"Hmm?" I feel light in that moment, like I could float away on a happy cloud.
Sean laughs softly, and we stop walking. He takes my other hand and tries to hide his smile. He drops to one knee and holds up a ring. "I want to ask you properly. I want you to know how much I love you, how much I will always love you. I want to spend every day with you, and love you every night. I want you by my side, but more than anything, I want to be by yours. You mean everything to me. You're my best friend and lover, mending my fractured soul in a way no one else could. You're my soul mate, my everything. Avery Stanz, will you be my wife?"
I don't mean to, but a deep laugh escapes from somewhere inside my chest. It jumps out of my mouth, and I grin. "That never gets old."
He beams up at me, waiting.
From experience, I know waiting is a bad thing and rush to tell him. "Yes! I would love to be your wife." I feel something swelling inside my chest that's been absent for such a long time. I have trouble identifying it at first. It's not joy or happiness. It's more like a lingering sense of wellbeing, like this will somehow work out.
It's hope.
Sean stands, and when his mouth comes down on mine, I lose myself in him. Our lips burn on contact, igniting everything good within me. I wrap my arms around his neck basking in the moment.
When he pulls away, he's smiling so fiercely I think he might bust. Sean laughs, holding me against his chest and swinging me around. I pull my feet up and squee as I spin in a circle with him on the grass.
When Sean puts me down, he tangles his hands in my hair and holds my face between his palms. "I love you, Spray Start Car Girl. Forever."
Then, without a word, he sweeps me off my feet and lifts me in his arms. I drop the lily on the ground and cling to him. "Where are we going?"
"Where else?"
I grin broadly and try not to giggle. I jut my arm into the air, poking the night sky and proclaim, "To the shed!"
CHAPTER 5
Sprawling takes on a new meaning. I remember the field at Belmont Lake from when I was a kid. I thought it was big. Henry's lawn makes the entire park resemble a patch of sod. The mansion sits on acreage that spills around the house and deep into the woods. I can't see the fence line, but I'm confident there is one. Henry likes his privacy—probably because he's batshit crazy. It wouldn't surprise me to find naked women trapped beneath the floorboards of his house. He's a little unhinged, and I still want to beat the snot out of him every time he crosses my mind, so I push the thought away.
The grass is cut in a diamond pattern that my Dad would have envied. He was always trying to get the greenest lawn on the block. One summer he fertilized the yard with his own mix of super grow. He had the best-looking yard on the block—and had to mow it three times a week or the grass would have jumped up and eaten the house. I smile remembering it, missing him.
I glance to the right, thinking I saw a light, but it must have been the moonlight reflecting off something—a camera lens maybe? The estate is so big it's not hard to remain concealed while we move around.
"Sean, why aren't you worried about Henry? Don't you think he'll do something twisted, like try and join us in the shed—something I am NOT okay with." I cling to his neck and feel a nervous jitter work it's way up my arms.
Thinking about having sex with dark Sean is like thinking about playing Frogger on the Long Island Expressway at rush hour. It's exhilarating, and I'm sure to get more than I bargained for, like one of those gator-logs that swallow you whole.
I'm biting my bottom lip without realizing it. Gators are freaky creatures. They pretend they can't move fast until they're ready to devour something. If Sean were an animal, he'd be part gator. The log is icing.
Sean's eyes are boring a hole into my head. I feel awkward and wiggle to get down. He holds me tighter. "I'm not putting you down yet, so be still."
"I could get down if I wanted."
"I'm sure." Sarcasm laces his voice.
I twist in his arms and push away. I should land on my feet, but just as I slip from his grip, he bends at the knees, catches me and tosses me over his shoulder.
"Hey!" I kick my feet and push off his strong back, as I try to yell in his face, but I only get the back of his head. He ignores me, pretending like I weigh nothing. "Put me down!"
Instead of being a gentleman about it, his hand comes up and slaps my ass. I wiggle on his shoulder and try to get down. Sean swats me again. "Stop twerking on my shoulder, or I'll do you on the lawn in the big wide open."
I freeze. "I'm not a prude."
He actually laughs. "Are you still on that?"
"NO!" Yes. I am. Why does he think I wouldn't like some PDA? "I think you're a prude."
He laughs, and it shakes his entire body, jostling me on his shoulders. "Me?" Sean stops walking and nearly releases me. "You're playing me." He sounds shocked. He holds me tighter and picks up his pace.
I bounce, hair flopping in my face, strands going in my mouth with my ass sticking out from under my chemise. "Dude, you almost got played." I giggle. "That was fun. Let's do it again."
His hand comes down on my cheeks, harder this time. I kick and try to shift, but his grip is like iron. The air tickles my skin all around the stinging spot. I have the worst wedgie ever. I might as well go commando.
Sean replies, "Let's not."
"Quit hitting me. I don't like it."
"Yes, you do."
I cross my arms and pout. When I realize he can't tell, I flop there, arms dangling down his back like two pieces of spaghetti. I'm staring at his backside as we bob along. Each step makes him flex his tush, curving it into a super-yummy curve. I reach for his waist and tug on his shirt.
"Undressing me, Miss Smith?" He smiles, looking over his shoulder at me. I've got my neck craned around so I can see the jaunty smirk on his face.
I drop his shirt and feign boredom. "Only in your dreams, Mr. Jones."
I flash a show-stopping grin at him. He laughs. "You're in a mood."
"Likewise, captain." My lips curve into a playful smile. "Where the hell is this shed? You've been walking forever. I would have dropped you by now and fallen down dead."
Sean's face scrunches up as if I insulted his manhood. "You can't lift me."
"I did lift you." I jerk my head in an I-told-you-so move and make a face. "How can you not remember?"
"Right. That." He sounds annoyed. "I believe I'd been shot and was concentrating on other things at the moment. Some minor details are fuzzy."
I reach down and slap my hand against his back. I was aiming for his ass, but it's too far away. "Fuzzy! Do you know how much you scared me? Stop getting shot! Also, you're not a dainty guy!"
"Thank God."
"It was like hauling a monster truck through water."
"Water would make it lighter." His voice is light, teasing. "And you should abstain from hitting me unless you want me to retaliate at an unpredictable time."
I shrug. "
That could be fun." I grab his shirt in my hand, crumple the fabric as I gather it on one swoop, and smack his skin with the open palm of my other hand. There's a loud slapping sound, and he freezes.
Grinning in a wolfish, still-got-wool-stuck-between-his-teeth manner, Sean replies, "It will be—for me. Keep your hands to yourself, Miss Smith. I can guarantee you won't like the payback."
My stomach twists as a shiver rips through me, making my skin prickle. He notices. "It's not for you."
"Of course not."
I manage to crane my neck long enough to leer at a little house standing on the back corner of the property. "That's the shed?" I squeak. "Can I live there?"
Sean shakes his head and mutters, "Peasants."
"That's not a shed. It's a house! There's an upstairs! Sheds don't have two floors." I glance at it again before I flop down his back.
"This one does, and the upstairs is unfinished with bare rafters rather close to the floor. It makes it so much nicer than standing on a bucket the whole time with your hands tied above your head."
A bucket? I can't tell if he's joking.
A few more steps and we're at the door. Sean swings me down into his arms and cradles me against his chest. His eyes meet mine and hold. There's so much adoration there, such tenderness that it shocks me. I know he loves me, but he never shows it—not like that.
"I love you, my Greek goddess."
My breath catches, and I lose myself in his eyes, unable to rip mine away. I whisper his name and pull his lips to mine. The kiss is tender, soft. He pulls away and watches me as we cross the threshold.
He places me down and follows through on his promise.
I shouldn't be surprised, but the rapid transition from sweetness to darkness shakes me to my core.