He grinned, thinking he'd best keep that under his hat.
"Now it's your turn,” she said in a commanding voice that was new to Treet. She pushed him onto his back, then straddled him.
Intrigued, Treet watched her, enjoying her expression as much as she seemed to be enjoying undressing him. She scooted along his legs, giving him an enticing view of her dangling breasts as she dragged his jeans with her. She stood briefly at the edge of the bed while she pulled them free. With a sexy, yet shy smile, she held them up by her finger, then let them drop to the floor.
That left his briefs.
But not for long. Sliding back along his legs like a kitten at play, she hooked his briefs with her thumbs and rolled them down, her eyes growing so big and wondrous Treet couldn't resist a chuckle. “Talking about ego trips,” he murmured. Then, to his amazement, he grew even bigger.
"My, my.” She clucked her tongue, tossing his briefs onto the floor with the same flourish that she'd used with the rest of their clothes. “Looky what we've got."
Licking his lips, Treet ventured, “Zoey?"
"Not on your life, buster. Zoey will have to get her own man.” She paused a moment, eying him through narrowed, cat-eyes. “By the way, don't you think it's time I knew your real name?"
"Treet Miller is my legal name,” he said evasively.
"You know what I mean."
"Promise not to laugh?"
"I promise."
"It's Tyrone."
"Oh, God,” she breathed, clutching her bare chest in mock horror.
Treet laughed, grabbing her arms and hauling her back onto the bed, flipping her onto her back and pinning her down with his thigh. Flesh met bare flesh, and heat shimmered and sizzled between their bodies. The sexual tension had been building for so long, Treet was afraid he wouldn't live through the explosion.
Gazing down into her sparkling eyes, he traced her lips with his finger as he told her, “I don't believe in one-night stands, Hadleigh.” Her lips twitched. She tried to capture his finger, but he quickly drew it away. He was having trouble concentrating, as it were.
"Isn't that supposed to be my line?"
She thought he was teasing, Treet realized. He shook his head. “I'm serious, sweetheart. I'm just not that kind of guy."
This time she giggled outright. “I swear you're stealing my lines.” When she saw that he wasn't amused, she sighed. “Okay, okay. I believe you. But you really don't have to—"
"I'm not forcing myself to say anything,” Treet insisted. He wouldn't be satisfied until she believed him. “I just want you to know that being with you—like this—means a lot to me."
"All right.” Her lips puckered in a provocative pout. “If I promise to call you afterwards, will you please shut up?” She thrust her fingers through his hair, cupping the back of his neck and drawing him to her warm, hungry mouth and effectively silencing him.
Treet gave up. She was determined to avoid a serious discussion, and for now he'd let her slip by. But afterwards—just the mere thought of what came before afterwards made Treet suck in a sharp breath—he would force her to listen.
As their tongues did an erotic, teasing dance, Treet traced the contours of her waist and hip with his hand, then very slowly inched his way to the triangle of curls between her legs.
Her breath came hard and fast in his ear. He closed his eyes and sighed blissfully as his fingers found the hot bud of her desire. The moment he touched her, Hadleigh stiffened. Her arms tightened around his neck and her breathing ceased altogether.
Thinking he'd hurt her, he lifted his head and looked at her. It was the most amazing sight he'd ever seen. The most amazing—and the most arousing.
Hadleigh was in the throes of a climax, her bottom lip clasped between her teeth as if to hold back a moan.
Treet groaned, cupping her with his hand as she shuddered against him. He buried his face in her neck and tried to forget what he'd seen—what was still happening.
He was literally about to explode against her hip.
Her breath came out in a rush, along with a confession and a dozen more tiny shudders. He could feel the tremors against his hand. “I'm—I'm sorry. You ... seem to have the most amazing effect on me."
If the situation hadn't been so imminently serious, Treet might have laughed from the sheer joy her words brought.
"Sweetheart,” he muttered in a strangled whisper, “The feeling is mutual. I'm about two seconds from joining you."
She grew still, as if uncertain about his meaning. “You ... too?” She hugged him tight, then continued to test his amazing control by adding, “This isn't the first time for me ... with you."
Her second, mind-shattering confession stunned him, and gave him the distraction he needed to avoid an embarrassing catastrophe. For the moment, anyway. “You—you're saying that you've—"
"Yes.” A fiery tongue circled his ear, making him groan. “In the closet,” she panted. “At your house."
The sudden, electrifying memory of him rocking against her made sweat pop out on his forehead. He'd brought her to a climax, and she hadn't told him. He hadn't known!
Hell fire. She'd cheated him out of the glorious event.
With a low, primitive growl, he rose above her, settling himself between her legs. He rose on his arms and gazed at her, so very, very conscious of her heat closing over the tip of his raging erection.
He let out a ragged moan and pulled back, concentrating on her face, hoping it would distract him.
Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were smoky with mystery and anticipation. He felt as if he were seeing Hadleigh for the first time. He'd always found her sexy, beautiful, and intelligent, had sensed that with a little coaxing and tender wooing she would be a sensual, selfless lover beyond compare.
But he hadn't known about this amazing, feisty, lusty woman. It was as if she truly had become someone else. Someone without inhibitions. Someone without worries or regrets or what if's.
Not the woman he remembered, but he wasn't complaining.
Oh, hell, no.
Smiling painfully, he attempted to douse the flames by joking. “Then I guess that means the heat is off."
Her eyes on his face, she lifted her hips, whimpering when he quickly dodged her sneaky maneuver. “Heat?” she asked distractedly. She licked her lips, taking her time running her tongue along her bottom lip until she elicited another groan from him. She was breathing fast again ... making him wonder if—
No, don't go there. Don't think about it.
"Meaning I don't have to worry about disappointing you,” he explained through gritted teeth, easing into her inch by tortuous inch. She was incredibly tight ... amazingly hot. Nope. Joking would not help. He was going to have to cut this one short and make up for it later.
He liked the idea of there being a later, but he hated the idea of crossing the finish line alone.
He needn't have worried.
The moment he sank to the limit inside her, she began to spasm around him. He watched her, stunned speechless as her eyes widened in surprise again. There—her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth, but this time he caught the tail-end of her stifled moan.
The screams of a thousand fans could not compare to that little, erotic sound that slipped through her lips.
"Hadleigh,” he ground out, swooping down to close his mouth over hers in a soul-stealing kiss.
He exploded. There was no other description for the way he literally came apart inside her, spilling his seed deep. The aftershocks just kept coming, spurred by the clamping of her inner walls around him as she came hard and fast a third time.
"Ahhh...” she breathed against his mouth, arching her lithe body and rotating her hips.
Distantly, he heard her gasping for air. Or was that him? He was still stunned by the length and intensity of his climax. He didn't think he was exaggerating when he thought it was the best, the absolute best.
He didn't even think it had a thing to do with the fac
t that he'd been celibate for months.
No, he knew with certainty that it had everything to do with the incredible woman beneath him.
And he loved her. No man could feel this way—this extraordinary—unless he loved a woman. Hell, even he knew that.
Now, if only he could convince Hadleigh.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Nineteen
If scientists could figure out a way to manufacture sex in a pill form, it would make the best sleeping pill in the world.
At least this is what Hadleigh would think later, long after the unimaginable happened. Long after her embarrassment became bearable.
Long after she stopped thinking of ways to make herself invisible.
She was deeply asleep when she heard the rattling of the doorknob, and it seemed to take forever to fight her way up through the thick fog of sleep to consciousness. When she finally did, she was disoriented. Her bones felt like peanut butter, deliciously weighted. She couldn't remember the last time she'd awoke from such a deep sleep. Gingerly, she stretched, then froze as her elbow encountered something solid beside her. Large and solid.
Not Sam.
Not her bed.
Not her room.
And then it all came back to her. The wild, intense but brief lovemaking. The wild and intense longer bout of lovemaking. The third time ... an image of herself, on her knees clutching the headboard, a scream building in her throat—
"I'm coming,” Treet mumbled beside her, sounding as groggy and disoriented as she felt. And no wonder, she thought, flushing all over at the memory. He'd been fantastic and quite energetic all four times. He probably felt just as deliciously lethargic, perhaps more so.
The bed dipped as he rose. She heard him stumbling around, looking for his briefs, muttering curses.
The knock sounded again, a small knock from a small fist.
Small knock. Small fist.
The sound of Treet padding across the floor and the subsequent realization of where he was heading scattered the last fog of sleep from Hadleigh's mind. “Treet, don't!” she called out in a frantic whisper.
She was too late.
"Daddy, it's storming,” Caroline complained as Treet swung open the bedroom door.
Her thudding footsteps took her to the bed. She dived into the middle, scrambling beneath the covers and pulling them to her chin. “I'm gonna sleep with you. Sam's hogging the bed and I don't like the thunder."
Hadleigh knew the exact moment Caroline realized there was someone else in the bed. Caroline let out a frightened little yelp, which forced Hadleigh to say in a very reluctant voice, “It's just me.” If there had been a way to sink into the mattress and disappear, Hadleigh would gladly have done it.
She was mortified to be found in bed with Treet by his daughter. How could she let this happen? How could he let it happen?
It got worse.
Beneath the hall light shining into the room, Hadleigh could see Treet's bemused expression as he looked from the door to the bed. In the doorway, a small shadow appeared, paused for a second, then followed Caroline's path to the bed.
Sam, of course.
But Sam had yet to notice Hadleigh, intent on scolding Caroline. “You left me by myself,” she complained, settling herself into bed beside her friend. “I don't like storms. Just ask Mom if you don't believe me."
Caroline giggled. “Okay, I'll ask her. She's right beside you, silly!"
Frozen with horror, naked, and mortified beyond speech, Hadleigh clutched the covers beneath her chin and prayed for a quick death. Heart attack was a pretty quick way to go, she thought. And she wasn't far from having one!
Sam peered at Hadleigh, her brow puckering. “Mommy? Did you get scared of the storm, too?"
When Hadleigh didn't answer—she couldn't, her throat had closed up—Caroline whispered loudly, “I think she did, Sam. That's why she's in Daddy's bed, but she's a grown-up, so she don't want to say she's scared."
Oh, thank you, God, for their innocence, Hadleigh thought fervently. She tried to make her mouth move, to say something, but she couldn't talk. How could she let this happen? She should have gotten up afterward—after the fourth time, she amended—and gone to her own room.
Treet, bless his heart, saved the day—er—night. He shut the bedroom door, thankfully cutting off the light, apparently wide awake now and aware of the situation and Hadleigh's shock.
"It's dark, Daddy."
"That's because it's in the middle of the night, pumpkin."
He sounded so normal. A flash of lightning lit the bedroom briefly, revealing Treet sorting through a drawer. Probably in search of something to put on over his boxers, Hadleigh thought, struggling with the incredible urge to giggle.
Hysterically, of course.
"I'm not afraid of the dark,” Sam announced even as she shuffled closer to Hadleigh.
As subtly as she could, Hadleigh edged closer to the side of the bed—away from Sam.
Treet must have found something, for he came back to the bed—muttering a curse as he bumped his shin on something—and collapsed onto it with a loud, put-upon sigh.
Tense as a bow string, Hadleigh waited to see what he would do. She prayed he remembered her state of undress—he should, since he'd helped get her that way!
Very casually, Treet grumbled as he yanked the covers over his legs, “I guess I've got three scaredy-cats on my hands."
Hadleigh had never appreciated his talent for acting more than she did at that moment, because he nearly convinced her.
But had he forgotten one majorly important fact? She was afraid that he had, and any moment Sam would realize that her mother was naked! Then Caroline would know. Hadleigh didn't think Treet would be able to act his way out of that one. She knew she couldn't. What could she possibly say by way of explanation?
Please, God, I'm sorry. If you'll just help me out—
"Daddy. I got to go to the bathroom."
"Sounds like a personal problem to me,” Treet said with a sleep-husky chuckle. “You've been going by yourself for a few years now, sweetheart."
One down, one to go, Hadleigh thought, holding her breath.
"I'm scared to go by myself,” Caroline whispered loudly.
"Sam can go with you, can't you, Sam?"
Yes, yes, yes!
Hadleigh crossed her fingers beneath the covers and squeezed her eyes so tightly she made them ache. Go, go, go!
"I'll go with her."
The moment the two girls closed the bathroom door, Hadleigh leaped from the bed, dragging the sheet with her. Judging by the speed in which Treet followed, she realized she'd been wrong about him forgetting.
They quickly dropped to their knees and searched the carpet for her clothes, particularly her dress. “I found it!” Treet whispered, bumping into her, then reaching out to hold her steady.
His hand landed on her bare rump where the sheet had slipped down. His breath whistled sharply between his teeth. Hadleigh caught her breath as well, erotic memories flooding her mind.
She quickly pushed them away. “Hurry, help me into it!” They stood, hands tangling, elbows knocking into each other. Finally, Hadleigh pulled the dress together, and then began to fasten the buttons.
Only she couldn't find any to fasten! With a hiss of dismay, she whispered, “The buttons! You ripped them off!"
"You told me to,” Treet whispered back.
And damned if he didn't sound on the verge of laughter. “Treet, this is not funny! What are the girls thinking?"
"That you were afraid of the storm?” he suggested, finding a top button intact. “I think you have a few at the top ... before I went crazy."
The slight dip in his voice speared a hot shaft into her belly. “Not now! What are we going to do?"
The sound of a toilet flushing moved them to action.
"Get under the covers,” Treet instructed. “Hold your dress together.” He turned her toward the bed and gave her a slight push.
&nbs
p; She dived back under the covers and Treet dived with her. They immediately moved to their appointed corners of the bed as if they hadn't covered every inch of it earlier in every position imaginable.
A few heart-pounding seconds later, the bathroom door opened and out came Caroline and Sam, holding hands and huddling together.
Lightning flashed, illuminating their pensive expressions. When a booming crash of thunder followed, it was Sam's turn to desert Caroline. She broke free and raced for the bed, leaping the last few feet with a shriek of fright.
Hadleigh heard Treet muffle a laugh, which quickly turned in to a yelp of pain when Sam landed her knee in a delicate part of his anatomy.
The moment the girls grew quiet, Hadleigh said, “Sam, we should move to my bed."
"Why?"
"Well, because—"
"I don't want to leave Caroline,” Sam said in a petulant voice Hadleigh recognized only too well.
Caroline joined her, sounding incredibly like Sam. “Let her stay, Haddy! And you stay, too. We'll all sleep in Daddy's bed. He don't care, do you, Daddy?"
Treet didn't get an opportunity to answer. The bedroom door burst open, revealing a large, hulking shadow silhouetted in the doorway.
Sam and Caroline screamed simultaneously.
Hadleigh gasped.
"Boss,” Brutal said, sounding frantic. “I checked on the girls and they ain't in their room! Hide your eyes, I'm gonna turn on the light."
Before the last word left his mouth, before Hadleigh or Treet could protest, the overhead lights came on, blinding everyone huddled in the bed.
For a shocked moment, Brutal didn't speak. His terror-struck eyes narrowed on the crowded bed, lingering on her—or so Hadleigh imagined—just a tad bit longer than the rest. “Oh."
That oh carried a wealth of meaning for Hadleigh. Censure, disbelief, disgust ... more disbelief. She could well imagine how things looked from Brutal's point of view. She looked at Treet, urging him to explain, to say anything to take that awful look from his bodyguard's eyes.
To her immense relief, he did.
"The girls were scared,” Treet said, casually bracing his hands behind his head on the pillow. “Of the storm,” he added unnecessarily.
Those Baby Blues Page 20