Whisper My Name

by Renee Wynn

  “It is.” She smiled as she stepped into his arms, tilted her head up and silenced his questions the best way possible—with the kiss he craved.

  Murmurs of delight escaped from her mouth; he savored them. He deepened the kiss and his name was a sigh on her lips; he swallowed down the sound as he took full and complete possession of her lips and tongue again.

  “You see,” he murmured, barely catching his breath. “This is so right. So right.”

  He caressed her neck and tangled his fingers in the soft hair at the base of her skull, twisting, tugging, and pulling her backwards so that he could run his tongue lightly down her neck. He inhaled deeply, dizzy from her scent. He lifted his head and unbuttoned her blouse, removing it from her shoulders, leaving her bare except for the skimpy black-laced bra she wore. He unfastened the front hook, freeing her breasts. He moved down into that warm valley of cleavage and supped.

  “I want you so damn much.”

  He tried to control himself but it was getting nearly impossible as he licked at her nipples and pulling them into his mouth to suckle.

  “I want you,” he said again.

  The need to mate was a heavy pulse that demanded to be fed. He knew he wouldn’t make it upstairs, so he took her hand and guided her to the long sofa against the wall.

  Her eyes widened at his actions but she didn’t protest. He grinned at her, knowing she felt the urgency as much as he did. He couldn’t resist her or the temptation. For months he’d denied himself and his feelings. The wait was over. Again, he took her mouth. Her lips were as soft and delicious as they had been before. She yielded to him with a soft murmur that made his senses collide and take control. With a savagely muttered curse, he divested her of all her clothing, including her footwear. She stood before him as the goddess that she was. He quickly stripped his clothes and boots from his body. Without any help, she willingly lay back on the sofa, with her legs opened.

  His breath threatened to leave his body. Everything in him was wild and fierce as he fought to bring them under control. He wanted to pleasure her with lips. To make her come as he lapped at her juices, but he was too far. He lifted her so he could clamp the tight luscious curve of her ass, holding her tight against his burning flesh. He opened her wide and entered her in a hard thrust. She moaned. He groaned at the sensation. He stayed still, savoring the feel of her around his cock.

  “Fuck me,” she choked out.

  The rawness of the words excited him. “Not so fast, my love.”

  He pulled out of her. She hit his shoulder in anger.

  Grinning, he knelt before her and latched on to the lips of her clitoris, making her writhe against his tongue. He went deeper. She grabbed his head to hold him in place. He removed her hands, held them while he suckled and enjoyed the essence of her. He didn’t want to bring her to an orgasm, so he let go.

  “Don’t tease me, Brody. I can’t stand it.”

  “Tease?” he questioned softly. “I don’t think so.”

  He abandoned any thought of teasing and eased himself into her waiting, welcoming body in one long, hard thrust.

  “Brody!”

  He tried, again, to catch his breath. In the space of one frantic heartbeat he began to move in and out of her in hard, fast plunges. She screamed and he caught the sound in his mouth, wanting to go deeper but knowing he couldn’t. He was already touching her womb. He knew he wouldn’t last long. There was too much need—too much love, and he wanted to lose himself in her.

  To try and prolong the inevitable, Brody bent his head, catching one hard nipple in the heart of his mouth and suckling hard and gently at the delicate skin.

  He felt her back knowing she was headed for an orgasm. She screamed as she tumbled into pleasure. He increased his strides; he was at the point of no return. He stiffened and released. The world disappeared as he whirled into a blazing oblivion, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, only feeling.

  He knew he was heavy and tried to roll off her but she held him close.

  He turned his head and pressed a tender kiss to her brow, her cheek and finally her lips before tumbling into sleep, knowing the world was finally right on its axis.

  The light of the full moon, coming through the window, made the bedroom almost as bright as day when Brody finally gave up hope of sleeping and slid from the bed. Pulling on his jeans, he paused for a moment to look down at Danielle’s sleeping form, her body still curved as it had been when it was pressed up against his, her face almost buried in the pillow.

  After making love, on the sofa, and in the den, they’d finally made their way to the bedroom where they continued the marathon of touching, kissing, and loving.

  It was a week later and they still couldn’t get enough of each other.

  Like him, he felt she was completely out of it, lost in a world of total exhaustion, oblivious to anything. He should be tired but he wasn’t. The blazing passion between them had full rein throughout the night, each hungrily coming together more eagerly than the first, each valley of intense pleasure stronger, each mounting, burning, climax more powerful than the one that had gone before. Never in his life had he known such pleasures, such freedom in another person’s body, in the completeness it could bring to every single one of his senses. And in the end it had been only exhaustion that had ended it.

  The exhaustion that had lured Danielle deep into the oblivion of sleep had left him lying awake and restless, staring out the window as the moon rose high over the mountain.

  She had agreed to give them a chance so he didn’t have any idea why he, too couldn’t find the ease he needed in sleep. His body was sated, his chaotic senses silent—for the last week anyway—but it was his mind that wouldn’t let him rest.

  It kept playing over and over again a snippet from the conversation they’d had at breakfast morning before. A collage of words, were the reason for the way he was feeling, the cause of his unease.

  “I’m going to have to leave in a few days,” Danielle said as she sipped a latte, which had become her morning drink of choice. “I have a couple of commitments in New York and then I have to go to Milan on assignment.”

  “How long?” he asked, dreading the answer.

  “A month.”

  He wanted to ask if she was coming back but didn’t. He was afraid of what the answer may be.

  It was coming close upon another week since she’d agreed to stay, everyday his need for her grew bigger, so much so that there wasn’t a moment of his day, a single second in the night, even in his sleep, when his mind wasn’t full of thoughts of her. There were times when he caught her watching him, looking for something, but he didn’t know what she searched for.

  He walked out onto the porch, leaned against the post and inhaled deeply. Soft arms circled his waist.

  “I woke up and you were gone.”

  “I’m an early riser. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “You didn’t.” She shivered. “It’s freezing out here.”

  He turned to face her. “You don’t even have on a robe.” He wrapped his arms around her. “Let’s go in.”

  “What’s wrong, Brody?”

  He closed the door behind them.

  “And don’t tell me nothing because something has been bothering you for the last few days.”

  He stood still, contemplating how to broach the subject of her leaving.

  “You are leaving and I don’t want you to go.”

  She touched his touched face. “Baby, I’m coming back.”

  “You didn’t say you were.”

  She smiled. “Is that what the brooding has been about, me leaving?”

  “Yes. Hell, I don’t know.” He sighed. “We said we loved each other but we haven’t moved past that. I want a commitment.”

  “I thought we had it.”

  “I need more.”

  “Like what?”

  “We need plans. When are you going to move in with me?”

  She laughed. “The horse before the cart, Brody?�
�

  “What?”

  “Are we getting married?”

  He frowned. “Hell! Damn, yes! We can go to the Justice of the Peace today and get married.”

  “Whoa, honey, we can’t do that. What about our friends? Your sister would have a fit. That would be after she cursed out both of us.”

  “I don’t give a damn about anyone but you. We’ll get married now and have a wedding later.”

  “You are definitely a changed man, Brody Beaumont.”

  “Only for you, my love. Only for you.”

  One year later—

  Danielle looked out over the lawn at the large gathering of people who came to their wedding celebration. It was early May but it was a very warm day in Dallas.

  She had been amazed at how much media attention was garnered when it was revealed that the billionaire businessman and playboy, Brody Beaumont had gotten married in secret a year ago and just now had gotten around to a wedding reception. The public had thought they were only dating. Brody’s publicist was good with keeping their marriage a secret. It gave them a year of uninterrupted bliss.

  Danielle was glad the media circus was outside the gates and couldn’t see through the large hedges surrounding the house. Now maybe they could get some peace. A bout of nausea hit her but she took deep breaths and swallowed as she observed her husband with a group of his friends. He laughed with gusto at something Ashton had said. Then she smiled when she watched him coyly search the backyard of their Dallas home for her. She waved when he caught her eye. He put down his drink and strolled toward her.

  He dropped down on the lounger beside her. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Stop worrying.”

  “Never.” He touched her cheek. “This isn’t Montana but Texas. It’s too hot out here for you.”

  “I’m not a piece of china, Brody. Only pregnant.”

  “Whoa. Stop that. You have company.”

  Brody groaned.

  Danielle smiled at their visitor, Brick Horne. Brody didn’t like the fact she had remained friends with him. But once he realized Brick wasn’t a threat to their relationship he somewhat came around to accepting that she and Brick were friends and nothing more.

  “What do you want, Horne?”

  “Is that anyway to speak to the godfather of your child?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Brody threw her a questioning look.

  She shrugged, indicating she didn’t know how Brick found out the news.

  “Don’t blame little filly here. I heard your conversation just now. I want to be the first one to congratulate you.” He leaned over and planted a kiss to her cheek, lingering a little longer than necessary. She knew it was to get a stir out of Brody. Although those two would never be friends, at least they were beginning to be tolerant toward each other.

  “Brick. I’m glad you came to the celebration,” she said.

  “Thank you, honeybee. I’m glad for the invite.”

  It sounded as if Brody had growled. Danielle sneaked a glance at him and offered a smile.

  “Isn’t it time for you to go back to Montana, Horne? You have overstayed your welcome.”

  “Brody! Stop it. He didn’t mean it, Brick”.

  “Yes, I did,” Brody, said firmly.

  Brick laughed. “Don’t worry, Beaumont. I’m on my way out but wanted to see goodbye to little filly.” He told Danielle’s hands into his. “Take care of yourself, sweetheart.”

  “I will.”

  “Let me know when the baby comes and I’ll be back.”

  Brody grunted. “Don’t bother.”

  Brick laughed and walked away.

  “You were rude to him.”

  “So.”

  “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Love me.”

  “I do…very much.”

  “I love you too, my love. You’re everything to me. You always will be. With you I am complete. Without you I am only ever half a man,” Brody said.

  “Oh, Brody, You’re making me cry,” she said as she wiped away a tear.

  Brody gathered her into his arms, holding her tightly against him and kissed her.

  “I don’t mean to do that. But I want to always speak from the heart. You and the baby mean more to me than anything.”

  She smiled. “I know.”

  “I’ll let never let you down.”

  “I believe you.”

  “You mean everything to me. Thank you for giving me another chance. I’m never going to let you go.”

  She cradled her head in his chest, sighed and closed her eyes. “Please don’t,” she said softly.

  WHISPER IN THE WIND (Brent Sinclair)

  Chapter One

  Brent Sinclair’s entire body hummed with tension as he fixed his eyes on Mischa Blake, who sat across from him in home of the Albert Packard.

  Her longs legs were smooth, reminding him of shaved butter, crossed at the knees. The skirt she wore was short—very short. The exposed skin gave him a sudden erection, which caught him off guard. He’d never had this sort of reaction to a woman—never. Even the bright pink polish on her toes, peeping through the opening in her sandals, looked delectable.

  Hell. What was the matter with him? He had sex with lots of women, some he remembered and some he didn’t. Sex was an act he enjoyed, most of the time, but it never left him wanting to revisit for a second helping. No woman ever affected his ability to concentrate or left a lasting impression, except one— Nicole Travis, his brother’s wife. As quickly as the memory came, he squashed it. It had been ten years. He was thirty-six now and over his love for her.

  He returned his focus to the woman quietly examining the document she held while a deep frown framed her lovely face. Brent tried to keep his eyes from straying back to her legs and failed. She was one gorgeous woman. He caught his wayward thoughts and tried to focus.

  Her face was fine boned. Shiny dark hair tumbled in loose curls that touched the edge of her shoulders. He liked long hair. However, he didn’t like the fact that he suddenly was imagining his hand grasping her thick mane and pulling her beneath him. Squirming in his seat, he tried to loosen the constricting cloth against his hard cock and again failed. Damn. He needed to get a grip on his runaway libido.

  “Mr. Sinclair,” she said, irritation lacing her tone. “This contract is padded with more advantages for you than Packard Engineering.”

  “Mischa, Brent and I think we both have equal amounts of risks and advantages,” said the older man sitting beside her.

  Albert Packard was the founder and CEO of Packard Engineering, a one hundred year family owned U.S. based firm. The old man was one of the shrewdest men Brent knew but at the moment a person would never know it. Around Mischa Blake he had turned to putty and she was molding it to fit into whatever she wanted it to be.

  She gave his hand a soothing pat.

  He glanced at the gesture and wondered what was going on between the two of them. They seemed to be very familiar with each other.

  Brent had been negotiating a huge contract with Albert Packard, the CEO and Founder, for the last couple of months. He thought everything was going smoothly and the old man was ready to sign on the dotted line. When he received a call, an hour ago, from the owner’s secretary requesting an emergency meeting at Packard’s home, he’d thought this was it everything was a go.

  “I believe you need to review the entire contract, Ms. Blake. You’ll see that everything is equally distributed.”

  She straightened in her chair and gave him a pointed stare.

  “That is the problem. Mr. Sinclair. It shouldn’t be equally distributed. Packard Engineering is taking more risks than Sinclair Inc. That is something I won’t agree to.”

  “You won’t agree?” He strived to keep his tone even without a trace of anger. “I have worked on this for two months with Albert and he didn’t voice any objections.”

  “I review every contract before anything is finalized for Packard Enginee
ring.”

  During several of their business meetings, the old man had mentioned Mischa Blake a few times, stating he wanted to run things by his chief negotiator. However, due to the fact that the talks were going pretty much in his favor, Brent hadn’t paid much attention to Albert Packard’s rumblings about a non-existent woman who wasn’t present at the negotiations.

  Now pissed at her haughty attitude, he fighting hard to hold his temper.

  “It takes more than a glance, Ms. Blake. You need to take the contract home and read it thoroughly.” He pointed to the document in her hand. “There are over thirty pages here.”

  "I don’t need you to bring it to my attention. I just read all of the pages. ”

  Brent gritted his teeth to keep from cursing. This woman was irking his last bit of patience. “Do I need to remind you that this is a two hundred million dollar contract?”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Then, again, let me remind—“

  She held up her hand to stop him. “I’m totally aware of the significance and importance of the deal. However, Packard has a lot on the line. Failure is—“

  “We are providing the labor, engineers and drafters. This project will involve at least one hundred of our top people. I don’t fail, Ms. Blake. I get results.”

  “Neither does Packard Engineering. However, failure always looms in the distance waiting, for its opportunity to ruin a company.”

  “Your philosophy, Ms. Blake, not mine,” he retorted.

  “Philosophy is the rational investigation of truths, principles of being, knowledge or conduct, Mr. Sinclair. Are you saying you have neither?”

  He opened his mouth to take her down a peg, and then the absurdity of it all hit him. Here was a woman playing a role. He knew his business and doubted she could interpret the difference between a wrench and a screwdriver. He was known to make top corporate raiders quake in their tailor-made loafers, but it had no effect on the woman sitting in front of him.

  Although Mischa Blake hadn’t been in on the initial rounds of talk, she was putting a wrench into the terms. He searched his memory for any conversations the old man had told him about her. She had been out of the country overseeing another Packard project, but had arrived back in the country a couple of days ago. Who the hell was she? She claimed to have read the document. He cursed under his breath. Damn that woman. She evidently thought she was dealing with a fool, which he wasn’t. He didn’t like corporate games. His brother, Ashton, was known as a son-of-bitch when it came to business. Brent had been called a barracuda, which didn’t offend him. He spared Albert Packard a glance, who was lovingly grinning at the woman. The old man only introduced her by name and nothing else. He didn’t state if she was an employee or friend. He wondered what the hell was the woman’s relationship to Albert Packard? It irritated the hell out of him that he desired to know.