by Lucia Jordan
The Proposal Book 1(Submissive Romance)
Published by Lucia Jordan
at Smashwords
Copyright © 2013 Lucia Jordan
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews. All character depicted are over the age of 18.
The Proposal Book 1
Brooke squirmed in her seat as Chris stared right back at her. His gaze was calculating, almost as if he was planning something and was holding her imprisoned. She urged her eyes to pull away from his enticing green ones, but it was so hard. Liquid, molten heat was spreading through her limbs, ending in a painful knot between her thighs. Her pussy was a wet mess, and she was worried that everyone at the table would know about it. Stop looking at me like that! She wanted to scream, but he was too intimidating. Besides, her sister would be pissed as hell if Brooke ruined her wedding rehearsal by screaming at the groom’s brother.
Chris lifted his head slightly and narrowed his eyes, emanating raw heat. Brooke’s sharp, indrawn breath made her sister, Valerie, turn around to face her. Brooke came back to earth with a jolt.
“Are you okay, Brooke?” Valerie asked.
Brooked nodded way too eagerly. “Yeah. I’m just feeling a little lightheaded. Do you mind if I step out for a little bit?”
“Of course not.” Valerie had always been like this, kind and understanding.
In her haste, the chair scraped awkwardly on the floor as Brooke attempted to stand. In a flurry, Chris was behind her, and her eyes were wide with shock. He didn’t say anything, but his jaw was tense, a muscle moving spasmodically in his cheek. Brooke had no choice but to walk outside, with Chris at her heels.
She had half a mind to tell him off for making her so nervous, but she herself couldn’t explain her reaction to the man. She glanced at him and he had the same hard, aloof expression. Finally, Brooke had had enough, and when she turned around to snap at him angrily, she stilled with cold fear spiraling through her limbs.
Chris was intimidating, masculine, and seemed to exude an aura of authority. It was stamped onto his features, and in the way he carried himself.
“Why… What are you doing?” Brooke stammered awkwardly, her voice shaky.
“I’m showing you out. This is my house you know?” His condescending glare made her seethe.
Brooke’s ears began to emanate steam. She didn’t like being talked to this way. She was a successful executive, and had hundreds of employees that catered to her orders. She didn’t take orders, and she wasn’t going to start anytime soon.
“Mr. Hunt,” she began with a stiff smile, “I know the way to the terrace. You needn’t bother yourself. Please, if you don’t mind, I’d like a moment alone.” Her teeth were clenched, her eyes shooting sparks of anger.
Chris smiled at her, almost smirked, and slipped his hands into his pants pockets. “The thing is…Miss. Miller.” He paused. “You bother me. You bother me a lot. And I don’t like how that makes me feel.”
Brooke’s eyes widened and her lips parted to give him a biting retort, one that he deserved. Instead, she noticed Chris’s eyes doing a provocative dance over her facial features. His gaze was thorough, relaxed, and he took his time, as if he was a master of what he was looking at. Her tongue got stuck to the roof of her mouth, and her chest beat frantically.
Chris walked away and Brooke should have been seething but she was just…in shock. You bother me a lot. And I don’t like how that makes me feel. Was the groom’s brother mad? She had barely talked to him when they were introduced. Although she couldn’t deny that there was raw, potent virility emanating from every pore on Christopher Hunt’s body, she wasn’t interested.
Relationships had been the only sore aspect of Brooke’s life. Three past relationships had collapsed before any serious commitment, and all for one reason alone.
Brooke’s professional success had been too hard to handle for the men in her life. She knew that frequent traveling, unpredictable hours, and her attachment to her work had contributed to the ultimate mess in her personal life, but she had learned to accept the fact. No man would ever be enough for Brooke, and she would always put her career first.
**
Brooke refused to acknowledge Chris’s presence at the table. The four-course, elaborate meal was being served, and Brooke’s stomach tightened in protest at the sight. Gorgeous seared scallops were adorning her plate, but she couldn’t quiet the miserable feeling in the pit of her stomach. Christopher Hunt had offended her and it was not a feeling she could easily fathom.
Brooke was used to being in charge, of being in control of what went on in her life – professional or personal. She inwardly cursed the man for being the groom’s brother, which meant that he would be in close proximity during the four days of the wedding.
She glimpsed up without really meaning to, knowing for sure that Chris would be watching her again. Christopher Hunt was smiling, staring at his plate of food, while a gorgeous blonde, probably in her early twenties, clung to his arm. He seemed to be enjoying himself, and although uncalled-for, her bones were suddenly taught with rage.
He had been staring at her face a few minutes ago as if he wanted to have her for his next meal, preferably raw, and now he was sitting there, thoroughly enjoying the clingy blonde.
Brooke’s jaw tensed and she shook herself mentally. What do I care? Why do I give a damn what Christopher Hunt is doing?
Thankfully, her reverie was interrupted by Valerie’s fiancé, Conner. He turned to tell her something about the wedding photographer. Temporarily, her mind had broken out from under the spell that Chris had placed upon her. But soon she found herself wondering how two brothers, Conner and Chris, could look and be so different.
Conner was blonde and lean, athletically built. Chris was incredibly tall and his dark hair was as black as sin. His features were chiseled, masculine, and heart-meltingly gorgeous.
She lurched physically to escape the pleasurable vision. What is wrong with me? She screeched in her head.
“You seem distracted,” Conner said with a smile. “Did something happen with Chris?”
Brooke’s eyes widened and her face turned white as a sheet. “No no no. No!”
Conner’s laugh sounded through the table. “That’s a lot of no’s for a very simple question.” Brooke blushed beetroot red and to her embarrassment, funny, carefree Conner was not done. “Hey Chris? What did you say to Brooke? She’s acting a little funny. All shaky and breathless.”
Snickers sounded at the table and Brooke couldn’t lift her eyes. Burning, crippling embarrassment was heating up her cheeks.
Chris saw the sandy-haired beauty sitting in her seat, her head held high, her eyes averted. The embarrassed blush on her cheeks – although beautiful – did not suit her. He felt a sudden burst of possessive instinct. “Conner, keep your eyes averted, turn to the left and stare at your affianced bride,” he boomed.
Silence spilled through the inhabitants of the table and several of the nearby guests who had heard the exchange. Brooke’s eyes lifted instinctively, and what she felt was beyond anything she had experienced. Her body was on fire. Giddy happiness, liquid lust, and craving were the feelings ruling her mind. Chris was looking at her with an expr
ession that could only be described as…tender.
A loud guffaw from Conner made everyone join in, and Brooke saw the brothers exchange knowing smiles. To her complete shock, Conner turned away from her, to the left, and pointedly faced Valerie.
**
Chris stood at the balcony with a glass of Brandy in his hand. His eyes were glued to a modestly dressed figure seated at the bench outside. Brooke was tall, lean, and had a figure that was made for a man’s hands.
My hands.
The thought interrupted him and he smiled to himself. Even though Brooke was quite far, he could feel the scent emanating for her body. It was fruity and fresh, just like she was, and Chris was mesmerized.
Brooke sighed as she rested her back against the bench. “I don’t know, Val. I didn’t even talk to him and he’s acting like a complete freak. What’s up with him?”
“Chris is different than Conner. That’s all I can say, Brooke.”
“You’re damn right he is. I don’t even think he’s sane.” Where Christopher Hunt was concerned, Brooke had lost the ability to think and analyze rationally. “Listen, I don’t know why, but Chris…scares me.” Valerie’s face was close to Brooke’s and she laughed out loud at that piece of information.
“Oh C’mon, Brooke!” Valerie cried.
“I’m not kidding. There’s something weird going on with him. He scares me!”
Valerie doubled over in hilarity and scanned the grounds for her fiancé. She didn't want him overhearing the slander about Chris. “The only thing that’s weird is that anyone can scare…you! You’re like he most un-scarable person I know. What’s up with you?”
“I...” Brooke quieted. Valerie wasn’t getting the point, but Brooke herself wasn’t sure that she got her point.
**
Brooke tossed and turned in the wide, antique bed. She was knackered, and her plans for a rest and a break had been sorely trashed to the ground. After two years of constant work and no vacation, she had finally viewed Valerie’s wedding as a reprieve. She had wanted to laugh and joke and have fun.
Valerie and Brooke had always been close, but because of Brooke’s fast-paced lifestyle, they had little time to connect anymore. Bi-monthly phone calls were the sole contact they had left and Brooke craved the sisterly banter, the closeness.
She cursed a certain raven-haired, taller-than-the-devil man who was sleeping in the next bedroom. The knowledge that he would be sleeping in the room directly next to hers had been a shock. She had been incredibly drowsy before she found out the sleeping arrangements.
Now, she couldn’t even blink an eye. The right wall, which she knew was the only thing parting her from Chris, seemed to have developed a life of its own. It was emanating energy.
Unbidden, a memory of the way he had explored her face with his eyes made her tense beneath the covers. His lips were manly, molded perfectly, and a sudden fantasy of that mouth caressing her neck made her curl into a fetal position.
Chris sat on the edge of his bed, facing the wall that separated him from Brooke. It took every last ounce of his control to not tear the wall down with his bare hands and get to her. A memory of her blushing face split through his mind and he cringed.
Never again, would he put Brooke in that situation. She was a proud, spirited woman, and only he would make her blush, bend to his will, submit to his needs. He was desperate to curb her spirit.
**
The breakfast table was laden with goodies, and Brook felt slightly better after a few hours of sleep. The charisma, the magnetism of Christopher Hunt, seemed like a long ago memory.
Some of the guests were going horseback riding along the vast estate that belonged to the Hunts. It was their family home and personally, Brooke thought it provided the most pompous and wealthy display.
Stables packed to the rafters with horses of magnificent breeds, a tennis-court, an Olympic-sized swimming pool, and acres of well-tended lawns. Brooke was helped onto a horse by one of the trainers and she sped off along the sides of the property.
The wind in her hair, and the thudding of the horse’s hooves was exhilarating. To her surprise, she saw a small lake with a black, iron bridge. The lake was so tiny it didn’t even need a bridge, but it was ornamental, and Brooke couldn’t help but stop for a rest.
Chris watched from afar as Brooke’s black, corduroy pants stretched taught over her behind. He swallowed. His mouth was going dry. Brooke bent over the water, gazing into it as if she was looking for something.
As Chris neared Brooke, she could hear a horse’s hooves, but was engrossed in watching a fish that was jiggling near the edge. She didn’t notice until the horse was right behind her, and the rider standing firmly on the ground.
“That’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen,” he said and Brooke lurched around.
“What?”
“That’s…the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen,” he repeated, and Brooke realized he was watching her ass.
A blush stained her cheeks and she glanced about. “I uh...I was looking at a fish,” Brooke stammered and Chris smiled.
“Glad to know.”
Brooke pursed her lips together. She was getting angry again and she didn’t want to say anything to rile the man. “Mr. Hunt -” she began.
“Doctor Hunt,” he said as if by habit, and Brooke stood up.
“You’re a doctor?”
Chris wanted to chuckle at her expression of pure disbelief. “You were saying…?” He wanted to hear her voice again.
Brooke parted her lips and then forced herself to calm down. “Dr. Hunt. I feel like…we got off on the wrong foot somehow, when we didn’t even talk!” She couldn’t help her sarcasm. “I have no idea what I did to offend you, and this riddle is getting a little tedious.”
“Are you always like this?” His booming voice sent shivers of excitement straight to her pussy.
“Like what?”
“Self-assured, forceful, determined. Need I go on, Miss Miller?”
Somehow the man’s words made her feel better. In Chris’s presence, she had been feeling like a prissy little teenager with no confidence. She was glad that it was not how she had come across.
“Feisty?” he added just when she was about to speak up again.
Brooke saw the glimmer of flaming heat in his green orbs. Her ability to speak disappeared and Chris took a step toward her. She couldn’t move and the incomprehensible tightening of her pussy was almost painful. His scent, musky, distinctive, and heady, was filling her nostrils. She inhaled sharply, willing to fill herself with his scent. Her head tilted back to look into his eyes and she swallowed audibly. Chris’s condescending smirk returned but Brooke was immobile in his nearness. “You’ll have to learn to look down,” he said, sliding his hand over her bare arm.
His knuckles traced a path down the length of her arm, scorching a trail into her skin. Brooke’s chest rose and fell in rapid jerks, but Chris didn’t look away from her eyes. “Look away, Brooke,” he whispered, and her eyes narrowed, unsure. She couldn’t think straight. She wondered if she could even hear him right. Why would she want to look away from his bright, green eyes?
Swiftly, Chris’s large hand clasped her wrist tightly, and Brooke jolted to reality. “Look… away…Brooke,” he said almost shakily, but his tone was harsh, his words hissing through his teeth.
Brooke’s eyes fell away from his face, and she felt exhilarated, shocked, and inexplicably horny at the same time. Chris bent his head, his lips pressing firmly onto the curve of her neck.
“Aah!” A gasp escaped Brooke’s lips and her head fell back. She lifted her hands to grab onto his shoulders.
Chris jerked as her small, dainty hand touched his shoulder. He grabbed both of her wrists firmly, yanking them behind her back. Brooke cried out in shock and pain. Chris’s teeth grazed her neck softly, leaving behind a delicate wetness. A jolt traveled from Brooke’s neck, down her torso, ending forcefully at her pussy – making it clench. She knew her pussy was
drenched in lust, but she didn’t know what this enigmatic, mysterious man wanted.
As quickly as it had begun, it was over. Chris pushed her away and released her hands, turning his back to her and lifting onto his horse. Brooke’s limbs were numb and sensitized at the same time, her knees wobbly, her toes tingling. Chris had awakened a consuming lust in her body and her panties were soaked through.
But he was gone. Brooke saw his body bent over the horse like a pro as he sped away from the property. How can he not be affected when I’m unable to move? She screamed at herself in her mind.
Chris was panting, gasping for air as he attempted to ride his horse into the ground. He needed to cool down, and it wasn’t happening.
He had never felt so completely shaken after what was just a simple peck on the neck. He was thirty-five years old, and he was so aroused, he was sure even his first sexual exploit at the age of thirteen had been more controlled.
An image of Brooke’s liquid brown eyes staring up at him wafted through his mind, followed by the way she had timidly submitted to his order. It had taken a bit of prodding but she had done it, and that was when his ardor had blown out of control.
His cock had surged with the massive flow of blood rushing through it, and his balls had tightened with the need to empty themselves. He had wanted to fuck Brooke then and there, beside the lake, in the middle of the afternoon – and he had wanted to do it bad.
The urgency of wanting to claim Brooke as his was unbearable. Never had Christopher Hunt lost control. Control was what ruled him, he fed off it, but it was always in the privacy of his bedroom. He was by nature a controlling person, a dominant.
Brooke was a highflying executive who ordered people around. She was her own boss, and that had shown in her personality. She wasn’t used to doing anything she didn’t want to do. Chris’s cock tightened in arousal again as he pictured the confident, gorgeous woman with the chocolate-brown eyes. He wanted her. He wanted her badly, but she would have to concede to his will.
**
Valerie winced as Brooke grabbed her arm and dragged her into a room, which turned out to be a spacious office. “What has gotten into you?” Valerie whispered as Brooke stomped around the space, checking if there was anyone inside.