by Ann Jacobs
“Krissy, don’t.” He caught her hands when she slid them up and loosened his belt.
“You don’t like this?” she asked, nibbling his hard-muscled inner thigh through his lightweight khaki pants while she freed her hand and continued her task of getting him naked.
“God, yes. But you don’t have to. I should be—”
“Stop. Let me love you.” She managed to get his pants unbuttoned and unzipped, but… “Lift up your backside so I can get you where I want you.”
“Damn it, I don’t want you on your knees,” he said, but he obliged her by arching up so she could pull down his pants and boxers.
She bent and licked away the little drop of slick, salty lubrication at the very tip of his erection, then ran her tongue around the ridge where the plum-shaped head met his long, thick shaft. “Well, this is where I want to be. Loving you.”
Hot. Pulsing. So big she had trouble believing she’d taken it inside her body and loved the stretching, full sensations that burst into shards of incredible pleasure. So smooth. “So beautiful.”
“It’s just my cock, baby. Pretty much like every other cock.” His protest dissolved into a throaty groan when she took the head all the way into her mouth and sucked it while cradling his balls gently between her palms. “Your mouth feels so good…so hot… Stop! Stop now or I’m going to come.”
When she hesitated he pulled back, stood, and scooped her into his arms. The next thing she knew, she was lying face down on the bed with pillows stuffed under her abdomen. And he was behind her, fumbling with protection—and in her, his magnificent cock—she liked that word though she doubted she’d ever say it—sliding inside her, filling her. From this new angle, his cock made contact with something that sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body every time he withdrew and slid back in. Deeper, harder.
His hands cupped her breasts, and his fingers tugged rhythmically on her nipples. His teeth grazed the tender skin at the nape of her neck. Pressure built with his every touch, every deep penetration of her flesh. Every sensation intensified—the incredible feelings, the mingled scents of floral potpourri and sex, the harsh sound of his breathing near her ear. Sunlight cast its shadows through lacy bed hangings, making strangely erotic patterns on his tanned forearm and hand, her paler skin.
The taste of his cock lingered on her tongue, salty and sexy. Made her want to taste him there…touch him and kiss him and suck him. Love him every way she could think of and then some.
He shifted, balancing on one straining forearm and moving his other hand lower to find and tease her swollen clit. One touch and she exploded, her inner muscles convulsing around his big, throbbing cock, coaxing him to give in, share the exquisite climax.
The last thing she felt before sliding into delicious oblivion was him spasming, spurting inside her…rolling over, taking her with him.
Later Kristine lay sprawled next to Tony, sated and content. His pulse pounded slowly, strongly against her ear, and the way he cradled her in his arms made her feel protected, loved.
“Was that your way of telling me you love me in spite of my tainted past?” he asked after they’d lain quietly for a long time. “If so, I liked it.”
She laughed. “I liked it too. And I love you.”
“Good. Because I love you too.”
“Tony, why did you wait so long to tell me about your father?”
He shrugged. “Having a convicted murderer in one’s immediate family isn’t something most people want to advertise.”
“Neither is having had a sister who died from abusing recreational drugs. We all have our crosses to bear.” She snuggled up against him, loved the feeling they were sharing their hearts and souls as well as their bodies.
“It’s hardly the same, honey.”
She lifted her head, propped herself up on her arms so she could look into his dark eyes. As though she were preparing a closing argument that could mean the difference between life or death for someone she loved, she chose her words carefully.
“No. It isn’t. But I love the man you are. I admire how far you’ve come, and I’m awed when I think about the strength you had to have to make that journey.”
His smile lit her heart, encouraged her to do for him what she realized he’d done for her when he’d shown her truths come in shades of gray.
“You’ve helped heal me with your strength and courage. Now all that’s left is for you to heal yourself.”
“I think you’ve done that for me, Krissy.”
“Then talk to me, darling. Tell me what’s in your heart.”
“In good time, love,” he murmured as he got up and held out a hand. “Let’s put on some clothes and go look at Mrs. Hayes’s garden.”
* * * * *
He’d have done it in the refurbished room where he’d studied so long ago, in the big bed with its lace draperies and old-fashioned coverlet, but Krissy deserved more. Tony wanted to give her a memory to last a lifetime, to share with pride in the years to come.
After settling her on a lacy wrought iron bench beneath the tree that overlooked their window, he handed her a bright yellow marigold he’d picked. Its spicy fragrance tickled his nostrils. A gentle breeze ruffled her hair, heightening his awareness. Her beautiful blue eyes sparkled, he hoped with anticipation.
He picked another flower, twirled its stem in his hand when he came and sat beside her. “I love you, Kristine.”
“I love you too.” She met his gaze, and he believed when he looked into her eyes that she wouldn’t say the words lightly.
Neither had he.
He put his flower in her hand. It was a rich, vibrant orange, as fragrant as its yellow companion. Though he longed to touch her, he rested his hands on his knees instead.
Though Tony had planned his speech as carefully as he would prepare a trial summation, he found himself struggling to communicate. Sweat dampened his neck, made a trail along the plane of his shoulders and chest.
He hadn’t been so anxious since his first mock trial, his first year in law school, having to force himself to get that first word out. Taking a steadying breath, he plunged in.
“We belong together as much as these marigolds do, sweetheart, even though we’re as different as they are in many ways. Will you take me as I am? Live with me, have my babies? Krissy, I swear I’ll do you proud. Marry me, please.”
“Oh, yes, Tony.”
Joy welled up inside him, brought tears that wet their hands as he slid the ring on her finger.
Its gigantic center diamond sparkled in the sun, dazzled him with its brilliance. Baguettes winked in the platinum band.
Was it too big? Too brash? For a second Tony considered murdering the jeweler who’d helped him pick out the ring.
Then Kristine threw her arms around Tony and kissed him.
“Like it?” he asked.
“I love you.”
He lifted her hand, watched her watch the diamonds sparkle. “I meant do you like the ring? If not—”
“Don’t even think about taking this back,” she said, laughing. “It’s like you. Larger than life and mine forever.”
For once Tony was speechless, but it didn’t matter, because Kristine seemed fully satisfied when they sealed their promises with a long, deep kiss.
Epilogue
Six months later
Kristine sat in the back of the courtroom, her gaze fixed on the drop-dead gorgeous lawyer with an incongruous little-boy dimple on his cheek.
Despite being five months pregnant, she ached for him. As skilled a lover as he was a defender, Tony seduced her each night the way he was seducing a jury now. Her skin burned, though the regular hum of the air conditioner reminded her the indoor temperature couldn’t be much over seventy degrees.
Nothing, not even listening to his riveting closing argument in Ezra Ruggles’ defense, dispelled the sexual tension that built in her whenever she looked at him.
Her husband. Her lover. Soon Tony would be the father of their baby. Kr
istine smiled when she thought of the place they’d bought on Old Tampa Bay, complete with all Tony had said he wanted except the vines, which he’d started badgering the gardener about because they weren’t growing up the walls fast enough to suit him.
When the first of the babies he’d mentioned jabbed her in the ribs, she recalled a time not all that long ago when she’d thought of Tony Landry as a devil in angel’s disguise.
“What’s got you grinning?” Tony asked when he joined her as the jury started its deliberations.
She took his outstretched hands and stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I was just remembering.”
“Remembering what?”
“The first time we kissed.” It had felt as though they’d been together for a lifetime when he’d deepened the kiss, nibbling at her lower lip, tangling his tongue with hers.
Now as then, sensations merged. Contrasting textures of soft cotton and featherweight wool chafed her fingers when she rested her hand on his chest. A pleasant aroma of coffee mingled with the clean masculine scent she knew so well.
Kristine had thought Tony was a dream, but he’d proven soon enough that he was very real. She reached up and caressed his cheek. The slight rasp of beard stubble along the contour of his jaw tickled her fingertips.
With each breath she took, she wanted him more. But the courtroom was not the place, and now was not the time. Still she sensed his need. She felt empowered. Sexy, in spite of her advancing pregnancy.
Hank Ehlers coughed when he joined them, as though reluctant to interrupt them in their private world. “Tony, the jury’s coming in now.”
Kristine smiled at Tony, squeezed his hand, then watched him stride to the defense table to hear the jury foreman read the verdict.
Ezra Ruggles would go free. Finally.
“I knew you’d win,” Kristine told Tony later. “Now it’s my turn to see if I can get monetary retribution for him, to help make up for what happened to him in prison.”
“You’re my best cheerleader, sweetheart. I don’t want you working too hard, though.” He frowned at the stack of papers on the corner of the desk they shared in their new home.
“I won’t. You’ll be doing the arguing if Ezra’s civil case has to go to trial. I’m just gathering the ammunition. After all, you’re the one who loves to fight.”
“I’m glad you didn’t make me fight too hard for you.” Tony circled Kristine’s rounded belly with both arms. “You know, before I proposed, I’d prepared the closing argument of my life, to persuade you we belonged together. I was terrified that it wouldn’t be good enough.”
Kristine wove her fingers through his, saw him grin at the flashy diamonds that winked up at them from their place on her left hand. “You didn’t need to argue a whole lot in your own defense. You had me from the moment I saw you smile. I just didn’t know it until I grew up and began to see right and wrong in shades of gray.”
Smiling up at Tony when he swung her into his arms and carried her up the stairs, Kristine said a prayer of thanks. Love had let them help each other to resolve old conflicts and move on to embrace today and tomorrow—together.
About the author:
“In case you haven’t figured out yet, I’m a sucker for happy endings, and they’re what all my books have in common: one man, one woman, in love and committed to go after that elusive Happily Ever After.”
First published in 1996, Ann Jacobs has sold more than twenty-five books and novellas to five publishers: Ellora’s Cave, Red Sage, Berkley, Kensington, and Five Star.
A CPA and former hospital financial manager, she now writes full time except, of course, for the hours she devotes to being a wife and mother to seven kids. A transplanted midwesterner, she’s lived in west-central Florida all her adult life.
Ann loves writing Romantica—to her, it’s the perfect blend of sex, sensuality, and happily-ever-after commitment between one man and one woman. She enjoys hearing from readers.
http: www.annjacobs.us
Ann welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at 1056 Home Avenue Akron, Ohio 44310.
Also by Ann Jacobs:
Another Love
Awakenings
Bittersweet Homecoming
Captured
Colors of Love
Colors of Magic
Dallas Heat
Dark Side of the Moon
Enchained
Firestorm
Gates of Hell
Gettin’ It On
Gold, Frankincense & Myrrh
He Calls Her Jasmine
Love Magic
Love Slave
A Mutual Favor
Mystic Visions
Storm Warnings
Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.
www.ellorascave.com
Mastered
Ann Jacobs
Book 5 of the Lawyers in Love series.
Ice Princess. That’s what her ex-lover called prosecutor Sandra Giancone. But his plain vanilla lovemaking left her cold. She needs a man who can see past her carefully regulated exterior. A man who can strip away her control and release her desire.
Her best friend, chief of detectives Rocky Delgado, has been carrying a torch for her for years. But he never imagined Sandy might be the submissive of his wildest dreams. When an unexpected discovery tips Rocky off to Sandy’s secret, Rocky uses tender force to prove she can be both loved and Mastered.
Publisher’s Note: Novella originally appeared in the Ellora’s Cave anthology Enchained.
An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
www.ellorascave.com
Mastered
ISBN 9781419925979
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Mastered Copyright © 2003 Ann Jacobs
Edited by Sue-Ellen Gower
Cover art by Syneca
Electronic book publication 2003
The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
Mastered
Ann Jacobs
Prologue
Control. He had to have it, in bed and out, and she was the last woman on earth he’d expect to shed her armor and bend to his loving dominance. Worse, she was his good friend and confidant, and as often as not his colleague because his detectives chased down the criminals she ultimately prosecuted.
So why was it that Sandra kept his cock twitching every time he got within smelling distance of that musky perfume she wore? And why did he wake up nights hard as stone from dreaming of her bound and helpless and moaning with pleasure with every stroke of his tongue on her sopping cunt?
Rocky tamped down the futile fantasies that flooded his mind as he walked his good friend to the door of he
r apartment after drinks and talk at Bennie’s, his cooling off aided by the soft spring rain that kissed his skin and left shimmering crystals beading in her glossy black hair.
But when he bent his head to give her a friendly goodnight kiss at her door like he’d done a hundred times before, Sandra responded like anything but the cool, collected lawyer he knew. The way she traced his lips with her tongue and tangled it with his had his cock primed and ready for action.
As though shocked by the sudden wave of sexual electricity that had overcome her, she pulled away and opened her door. “Goodnight, Rocky,” she said as though nothing had gone down between them. Her nervous laugh belied her casual words as she beat a hasty retreat.
For a long time Rocky stood staring at the closed door, reliving that kiss and mentally kicking himself in the ass for having read his good buddy wrong.
Cool? Collected? Control freak? Hell, no. She walked the walk and talked the talk, but what the fuck? Nobody who didn’t have a damn strong interest in sex kissed the way she’d kissed him tonight. And ice queens sure as hell didn’t have tongue piercings.
Chapter One
Nothing at the courthouse had changed much in the year since he’d left the testifying to his underlings. Keys still clanged as guys emptied pockets and dumped the contents into baskets before walking through the metal detection machines. Anxious-looking people milled around in the halls taking surreptitious glances at uniformed city cops and sheriff’s deputies. Small-time crooks and perfumed hookers huddled in corners with lawyers in ill-fitting suits, ties askew.