by Anna del Mar
I smirked. “She looks like she’d want to be on top.”
Noah laughed. “You’re very perceptive.”
“She likes you a lot, you know.”
“Yeah.” He sobered up. “I need to talk to her.”
“And here I came to help you celebrate your birthday, not make you miserable.”
He squeezed my arm. “Any day I get to see you is my lucky day.”
He opened the door and helped me lug in the cooler and the bags. Thankfully, Brandy was nowhere to be seen. I needed a moment to get it together. I went in the bathroom, washed my face and added a little lip gloss before I joined Noah in the kitchen to unpack the cooler. Music drifted from the game room downstairs, along with animated voices and the sounds of sports blaring from the big-screen TV.
“I brought you sushi.” I lifted the top off the sushi box, where the raw fish confections lay displayed like a collection of miniature art. “You said you missed it.”
He stole a tuna roll, dropped it in his mouth and licked his fingers. “Fucking awesome.”
“You can share it with your friends if you’d like.” I picked out a shrimp tempura roll and fed it to him, careful not to lose my fingertips to his teeth. “There’s enough cake for everybody too. My other gifts will have to wait for later.”
“I heard about that,” he mumbled through a mouthful, swallowed, then washed down the gulp with a sip of his beer. “Can’t wait.” He set the beer aside, took me in his arms and kissed me. “Doing okay?”
I sighed. “I’ll survive.”
He planted a beer-scented kiss on the tip of my nose. “You better get ready, missy, because you’re in trouble, so you’re in for a long weekend.”
I stuck out my lower lip. “But...why?”
“You’re in trouble for doubting me.” His hands trailed down to my butt and squeezed the halves of my ass. “It’s no small matter when Clara Luz doubts my affection. On top of that, it’s my birthday, which means I’m entitled.”
“Entitled to what?” I looked up at him between my lashes.
“Entitled to whatever I want,” he said in a tone that destabilized my knees.
I wasn’t really sure if I could wait another minute. I wanted Noah in me now. I lifted up on my toes and offered him my lips, dying to feel his tongue in my mouth, desperate to give myself to him. He took me up on the offer, seizing my mouth with possessive zeal. I rubbed myself against him, pressed my breasts against his strong pecs and ground my hips over his groin in a desperate attempt at instant gratification. When his hands clutched my ass and his erection rubbed hard over the tight strip of leather that trapped my clit, I let out a lust-filled moan. If he kept doing that I might just explode into an orgasm, right here, standing up in his kitchen.
A discreet cough brought me out of my frenzy. I had to blink several times before I was able to see through the lust blurring my sight. I looked up to find Noah staring over my shoulder, gaze beaming with all kinds of warnings and signals. I turned around and found a god of a man leaning against the kitchen threshold, tall, strong, handsome, kind of like Noah, only drawn in caramel tones, a brutal slap of double maleness to my senses.
“Oh.” I took a step back from Noah, but he held me tightly against his waist. “I didn’t hear you coming up the stairs.”
“Yeah, you wouldn’t.” The man’s shrewd caramel eyes were fixed on me as he studied me with a stare that saw beyond the flesh.
“Was there something you needed?” Noah’s tone was an odd combination of defiance, annoyance and mirth.
“As a matter of fact, yes,” the man said. “We need more of that crafted Colorado beer that Hollister likes so much. Are you going to introduce us?”
“I hear you guys already know each other,” Noah said. “Clara Luz, this is Josh Lane. Josh, Clara. She tells me you two spoke on the phone?”
“Clara, yes, at last, we meet face-to-face.” He stepped up and shook my hand, firmly but not harshly, still taking my measure, as if he hadn’t decided yet whether he was glad to meet me or not.
I looked from one man to another and recognized the way they were communicating without words, having quite an exchange behind their respective operator’s blank masks. They were both gorgeous in their own unique way, but they belonged to the same species, the tribe that turns boys into skilled survivors, men into giants and warriors into heroes. Not for anything, but standing between these two, I felt like the cream between two layers of luscious cake.
Josh’s stare fell on Noah. “The beer?”
“Sure.” Noah held Josh’s gaze for an instant too long, a warning, if I’d ever seen one. “I’ll be right back.”
The silence in the kitchen emboldened me. I’d checked out Josh Lane through my mother’s crafty channels, not easy, because apparently, he was fiercely private. But I had managed to learn a few things about him. Like Noah, Josh was a highly decorated ex-SEAL, a legend among special operators. After a stellar career with the Navy, he’d turned into one of the most successful entrepreneurs in the nation and became the billionaire CEO of Phoenix Prime, one of the most successful global investment firms in the world. He had a reputation for being blunt, arrogant and ruthless in business. People I’d spoken to admired him but also feared him. Everyone who knew him, talked about how intimidating Josh Lane was. I took a deep breath. Well, he wasn’t going to intimidate me.
I drew up on my heels and, drawing on my mother’s expert techniques, gave him the Luz special, my best haughty smirk. “So you are the infamous Josh Lane.”
“Guilty.” His mouth lifted up at the corners in a gesture that matched my haughtiness and upped it. “And you’re the senator’s daughter, the infamous Clara Luz.”
“Touché.” I inclined my head in a royal gesture.
His smirk turned wolfish at the dare.
This man was as good as I could be. He knew my mother, people and power, conveying all of that with a simple rise of his eyebrows that punctuated the word “senator” and told me he didn’t give a damn and wasn’t afraid of her.
I liked him.
He knew how the world worked, but so did I. “I guess that Noah works for you?”
Josh scoffed, an infuriating sound that challenged the world’s order. “Do you know the same Noah I do?” Amusement seeped into his voice. “Noah doesn’t work for anybody. He’s a team player, that’s true, but he’s always in the lead. Noah works with his teams and with me and Phoenix Prime. What we do is classified, but you know all that.”
He’d just brought my social snooping to a screeching halt and called me out without the slightest effort.
I braced my heels apart and came clean. “I’m just watching out for Noah.”
“Yeah.” Josh jerked his perfect chin in the air. “Me too. Which leads me to my next point. Noah’s strong.”
“I know that!”
“He has only one lifelong weakness.”
Me. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Like I said, I watch after my guys.” He paused and then those brutal eyes fell on me again full with purpose that had nothing to do with words. “Are you going to let him stick around this time?”
This time. So Josh knew. About us. About what had happened. And he was watching out for his friend, because he didn’t want Noah to get hurt all over again.
Josh’s eyebrows cocked on his forehead. “Well?”
I thought of Durant, of what he had said to me earlier today. I thought of my mother, of what she would say or do when she found out that I was back with Noah. I thought of all the variables in play and how much I didn’t want to think about them.
“I can’t see the future,” I said, “but if you have to know, my intentions are pure.”
Josh nodded, his lips pressed together and curved down. “Good to know.”
Under any oth
er circumstance I may have loathed this man, maybe even put him in his place, the Luz way. But I couldn’t help but liking this blunt, ferocious hunk who watched after Noah with such intense, fierce loyalty.
I was also curious. “Do you have any weakness in your chain mail, Lane?”
He hesitated, scrutinizing my face again, taking his time, as if trying to ascertain whether I was potential material for his exclusive tribe. The Luz family—me included—belonged to the most elite, high-class clubs in the world, but that was worth shit to Josh Lane, because in his world, Noah deserved only the best, I’d already messed up once and, based on that, my admission application was sliding toward the rejection pile. Josh Lane had just put me in my place.
It was a humbling experience for the Luz in me, a clash of values. On the one hand, there were the filthy rich who felt entitled to fame and fortune by their inheritances or their capacity to grossly exploit others. On the other hand, there were the heroes of the world, the ones who defended us with their lives and got little praise and no reward for their valor. Which club would I rather be admitted to?
Josh’s voice startled me out of my thoughts. “Lily.”
“Excuse me?”
“You asked about my weakness.” His wide chest rose and fell with a powerful sigh. “Her name is Lily. She loves me. But she won’t marry me.”
A smile curved my lips. “Because you’re blunt, arrogant and controlling?”
“You’ve noticed?” The wolfish smirk was on again. “Because I’m rich.”
“Here we go.” Noah came into the kitchen, carrying a couple of artistically decorated six-packs. “How about we go downstairs and you meet the others?”
“Sure.” I followed Noah out of the kitchen and, glancing at Josh, mouthed, “Good luck.”
Josh watched us go with an enigmatic lift of his lips, as if my application to the tribe had been processed and he already knew what the future held for us.
* * *
I had a good time with Noah’s friends. They were a great bunch, even if I couldn’t warm up to Brandy. I liked meeting Josh Lane and the rest and becoming familiar with this vital, structural part of Noah’s life. However, as I sat next to Noah, learning to play poker, I could barely wait for his friends to leave. The undergarments I wore weren’t designed for comfortable extended wear, and even the slightest touch from Noah sent my high-strung body into a tizzy. Truth be told, I wanted the birthday boy for myself.
Noah’s friends finally left somewhere around eight o’clock. Martha Crockett’s silent son picked them up to take them to the pier, to board a charter to the mainland. I said my goodbyes and remained downstairs cleaning up while Noah saw them off. I collected the empty beer bottles and dumped them in the recycling trash can. I was about to return what remained of the cake to its fancy confectionary box when Noah came downstairs.
“You’ve been buzzing like a live wire all night.” He pinned me with the beam of his stare. “I swear, I thought I might have to excuse myself and fuck you right on the poker table.”
My eyes shifted to the tabletop. A delicious shiver curled my toes as I imagined the soft green felt chafing against my ass.
“Hey.” Noah snapped his fingers in the air. “Eyes on me. How about you sing me the private birthday song?”
“The private birthday song?”
“Yeah, you know.” He smirked. “À la Marilyn Monroe.”
“Um...” I clasped my hands and rocked on my heels. “I’m not really a very good singer.”
“But I bet you’re a sensational stripper.”
Noah took a seat on the sectional and crossed his ankle over his knee. His eyes fixed on me like a pair of spotlights. He wanted something more than a quick flash.
“Come on.” He teased me with the sexy smile that rang all of my internal bells. “Get to it, Luz. And make it worth the long wait, will you?”
I so wanted to please the birthday boy...
I cleared my throat and intoned in a shy, quiet voice. “Happy birthday to you...”
I undid my belt slowly.
“Happy birthday to you...”
I slowly drew back the halves of my dress.
“Happy birthday, dear Noah...”
I slid my arms out of the sleeves, let the dress fall to the floor and cocked my hip. “Happy birthday to you.”
His mouth went slack. His black eyes glinted as he took in my body, scandalously clad in an open-cup one-piece tiny leather teddy, held together only by a set of thin straps that tied behind my neck. His stare traveled over my bare pushed-up breasts. It wasn’t a comfortable outfit, but it was well worth the gamble.
A speechless Noah whirled a finger in the air. I scanned his lap and saw I’d made a good impression. I turned around slowly to give him a good view of my bare back and the G-string bisecting my ass.
“Wow.” He shook his head, gaze glued to my body. “You really know how to dress for a party. If I live to be a thousand years, this is a sight I’ll never forget.”
I clasped my hands together and curtsied. “I’m happy to please.”
“Some days, I’m pretty sure I’ve died and gone to my version of Valhalla.” He pointed to a spot in front of him. “Over here. You make me feel like the luckiest guy on earth.”
The way he looked at me made me feel beyond lucky, beautiful, powerful and desired, three words I’d never used before when referring to myself. My chest swelled with joy. My breasts rose in their leather cradles. My feet obeyed him without question. I parked myself exactly where he indicated, my heart skipping beats as I tried to stand very still under his perusal.
“What do we have here?”
His fingers toyed with the red ribbon interlaced at the crotch of the scandalous leather teddy. His mere touch made me hiss. The skimpy outfit was designed to fit very tightly everywhere, but especially so at the crotch. The pressure had kept me on edge since I put it on at the ferry.
From his perch at the edge of the sectional, Noah looked up and met my eyes. “Is this for me?” he said. “My birthday present?”
“One of them,” I murmured. “If it pleases you.”
“Oh, I think it might.” He pulled on the red bow at the top of the crotch. “Let’s take a look.”
With a single tug, the bow gave way and the ribbon ran through the loops. The crotch came undone. The opening split apart. My mons popped out, flush, hot and bald, except for the little circle of closely cropped hair at the top.
“Christ,” Noah muttered breathlessly. “It pleases me, all right. It pleases me a lot.”
He leaned into my legs and, tilting up his face, landed his hot, wet lips on my pussy, nearly knocking me off my feet. I gasped as he squeezed the halves of my ass and gorged himself on my juices. I twined my fingers in his hair as I tried to keep my balance and my wits. When the room started to spin and my knees no longer held me, Noah pushed me backward onto the coffee table. My ass landed on the cold marble. He knelt in front of me and, seizing my ankles, parted my legs.
I fell back onto my elbows. Then my elbows failed too, and I lay on that hard table with my legs in the air, feverish from the sensations jolting through my body, delirious from the pleasure. Noah’s mouth taught me what the word “ravenous” meant. I understood it as the act of him devouring my pussy. It was the all-consuming force curling my spine and making me jut out my hips to deliver myself to his famished mouth. It was the act of sexual mauling.
I cried out when he wrenched his mouth away. He pushed himself over me and, kissing me, settled his crotch between my legs. His heat burned through all the way to my core. His erection jutted through his jeans. The hard fabric chafed against my soft pussy, but the friction felt divine. He reached out and, scooping two fingers of icing from the cake, smeared it over my nipple.
“Holy God,” I whispered when his lips went
after the icing. He made no distinction between the cream and my nipple and, I swear, he slurped so hard, he could have drawn sweet milk from me.
“Come on.” He got to his feet and offered me his hand. “I want you upstairs.”
“Now?” I took his hand, struggling to find my feet, legs weak, breasts glossy with his saliva and nipples smarting from his mouth’s attention.
“Now.” He pulled me up from the coffee table and onto my unsteady feet. “I want to open the rest of my presents.”
I got a sudden case of cold feet. “Maybe we can open them tomorrow?”
“Did you forget who’s in charge?” He cocked a sexy eyebrow.
My knees were shaking too hard, so he lifted me over his shoulder and, wrapping an arm around the back of my knees, carried me upstairs as if I were light as the air and completely portable. He stopped along the way to grab my bag from the entryway table. It was entirely his achievement that we made it upstairs without having sex on the stairs. God knew, I was willing to hump him or be humped by him at every step. He lugged me all the way up to the attic, then settled me on my knees on the carpet by the door, dropped the bag on the ground and knelt before me.
“Show me what you brought.”
“Well...” I gnawed on my lips. “I thought that, um, since it was your birthday, I should bring something that you’d like. So...”
I drew the gift from my bag and pushed the wrapped box in his direction.
His eyes smiled at me before he tore open the wrappings. The expression on his face reminded me of a kid on Christmas morning. He stared at the fine polished wood box that emerged from the wrappings. It gave away nothing. As far as he knew, it could’ve been a box of Cuban cigars. He unsnapped the twin sets of bronze hasps and lifted the lid.
His jaw fell. “Are you sure?”
I lifted a shoulder. “We could at least try it.”
“Well, then.” His lips curved up into a wicked, mind-melting grin. “We should get started.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Clara
Noah arranged a few things on the dresser. From my position kneeling on the attic’s floor, I couldn’t tell what he planned, but I shivered with expectation all the same. When he finally returned his attention to me, he helped me up, peeled off what I’d fondly begun to call the birthday suit and fitted a new set of cuffs around my wrists and ankles.