by Meg Ripley
He chuckled, “Almost, Dorothy.”
She grinned back, relaxing as she leaned back against the soft, plush leather seat of the limo. She could get used to this kind of luxury, she thought, wriggling her behind and settling it deeper into the soft-as-butter leather.
Tyler grinned anew as he watched her obvious and unpretentious enjoyment of the luxurious interior.
“First time?”
“What gave it away?” she purred unconcerned, shutting her eyes as she caressed the soft leather with her hands.
Too soon, the limo drew to a smart stop in front of the mansion and the chauffeur opened the door.
Tyler dimpled at her, “Time to meet the welcome wagon.”
Since there was no ‘welcome wagon’ at the front door, Brooke looked at him askance.
“Oh, my mother would never stoop to leave her exalted position in the drawing room where she holds court,” he said bitingly. “We go to her.”
It occurred to Brooke that this was no way to speak of one’s mother. But she said nothing.
Tyler led the way down a long corridor lined with stern unsmiling pictures of a long line of Harding ancestors and then they entered what had to be the drawing room. A woman dressed in a gown fit for a princess in the Victorian ages was sitting ramrod straight in one chair facing the doorway as she tried valiantly to look as though she wasn’t expecting anyone. The scene both amused and touched Brooke. Why would she feel the need to pretend about being glad to see her son come home? Wasn’t it natural for a mother to be excited by her son's return?
“Mother,” Tyler murmured as he leaned down to press a brief kiss onto her cheek.
The woman’s eyes shone like twin jewels as she smiled at her son, then her face went back to its glacial formality when she focused on Brooke.
“The reporter,” she murmured, managing to put enough inflection in the words to make Brooke feel like she just crawled out from beneath a stone. “Welcome, my dear. Show her to her room, Tyler,” she added dismissively.
Tyler turned to wink at Brooke and she understood that they had just been dismissed.
“Who built this...mansion?”
He shrugged, “My grandfather, about twelve generations back.”
Her eyes took in the modern decorations, the plush surroundings; she shook her head, “No, this is way too modern.”
“Okay, so I renovated and redecorated a bit three years ago,” he conceded.
Brooke stared at the back of his head. There were just too many undercurrents with the Hardings. What on earth was going on?
She opened her mouth to ask yet another question but he forestalled her with his announcement, “This is where we'll put you: the cream room."
He swept the door open to reveal a bedroom that looked as though it was straight out of a magazine. The theme was cream alright, from the bedcovers to the curtains to just about every visible surface was cream and gold. The room was breath-taking!
Brooke was so enthralled, she spun around in a circle taking it all in.
Tyler’s jaw tightened as he watched her. He had been right to pick this room for her; with her pale coloring, the room accentuated her features, made her appear almost ethereal and so damn sexy he could actually feel his blood roaring through his veins in reaction.
His hands tightened into fists at his side as he strove for control. He walked towards the windows to pull the curtains to the side and then turned back around to beat a hasty retreat from the room; he almost mowed Brooke down. She was standing right behind him. It was a measure of how distracted he was that he hadn’t heard her come up behind him.
Brooke grinned up at him saucily, “The view is to die for. I think I can understand why your mother never wants to leave here.”
His gaze went unerringly to her soft red, lips. Yeah, the view was to die for.
Without a second thought, he lowered his head to hers and urgently took her lips in a hard, passionate kiss. Kissing her felt like coming home, he thought dimly as his hands wrapped around her soft waist and pulled her flush against him.
Brooke gasped as his lips melded with hers, but instead of pushing him away, her traitorous hands wrapped about his neck. Her fingers hesitantly delved into the thick black hair at his nape and he groaned as he kissed her. Brooke stroked her hand down the thick column of his neck and then his hard, wide chest. He was pure male and absolutely delicious; she would never be able to get enough of him, she mused.
As though reading her thoughts, Tyler murmured against her lips, “I just can’t get enough of you. This is crazy; I've never felt like this.”
Before she could respond, his tongue plunged deeper into her mouth, engaging hers in an intimate dance that made every last one of her toes curl in pleasure.
His hands cupped her breast through the sheer material of her blouse, and in mere seconds, he had tumbled them both onto the bed, shoving her blouse up to reveal her lace bra. Brooke moaned and arched her back, almost falling off the bed as Tyler’s lips closed over one taut, erect nipple. He gently nipped at her breast through the thin material of her bra, his hands caressing every inch of silky skin he could touch. Electricity bolted through her nerve endings as he kissed her and Brooke went wild in his arms, clutching and twisting and caressing right back.
“I want you,” Tyler murmured, his dark eyes boring into hers.
Staring up at him, Brooke understood immediately that he was asking permission to go further.
Without giving herself time to think about it, she reached up and pulled him back down, effectively giving him her answer.
His kisses were scorching as he trailed his lips down her chest and then her stomach. His hands slipped down, caressing her soft thighs under her skirt.
“Please,” Brooke sighed, not even knowing what she was begging for.
Tyler was not proof against that soft, breathless, whisper. He bent his dark head to the juncture of her thighs and tenderly opened his lips over the soft folds of her wet, willing pussy.
Brooke’s eyes shot open in alarm; this was moving way too fast for her!
"Tyler—” she began.
“Hush. Let me take care of you. I’ve wanted to do this since the first time you jumped clear across the stable and into my arms. Don’t make me stop now, baby,” he murmured as he slowly laved his tongue through her pussy.
His tongue was softly probing and gently exploring as he licked her pussy, sending spasms of pleasure coursing through her body. Brooke cried out helplessly, her hands pressing to his head as he licked her hot and slow.
A vibrating sensation near her thigh jerked Brooke back to reality and she looked up in confusion, her green gaze clashing with Tyler’s dark eyes.
“My phone,” he growled, apparently intent on ignoring it.
But the ringing sound had been about as effective as a dash of cold water in her face and desire fled as though it had never been. This was crazy. What was she doing? And with an interview subject?
Hastily, she shoved at his shoulders, “Stop! Stop! Stop!”
He raised his head, staring up at her blearily. “You want me to stop?”
“Just stop! And get out! Get out!”
To his credit, Tyler immediately lifted away from her and then without another word, he quietly left the room, leaving Brooke with a frown between her eyes.
****
“Took you long enough." Lily, one of his younger twin sisters, grumbled the moment Tyler stepped into the dining room.
His confused gaze flew to hers, “I’m sorry?”
“You were in there with that reporter woman forever,” Leila, her twin chipped in, rolling her beautiful grey eyes.
Tyler coolly surveyed the occupants of the table as he slid into his seat at the head of the table. His brother, Max, watched him with cool contemplative eyes, as did Anne, their mother.
“Anyone else have any observations they want to share with the rest of the class?” he asked.
Silence fell around the table as he glared aro
und.
Anne Harding was the only person staring him down as she whispered, “Why did you agree to this interview? That woman looks nosy. I heard she already interviewed half the staff on your Texas ranch before you brought her here. What if she discovered our secret?”
Her pained grey eyes stared steadily into his.
“Mother, I don’t want to get into this. Not right now,” he said mildly as he buttered a slice of toast.
Anger surged through him but he deliberately tamped down on it. He was starting to feel things for that reporter; things he couldn’t explain; things he had no business feeling.
“Well when are we going to discuss this?” his mother pressed, oblivious to his inner turmoil.
She always seemed oblivious to everything about him, he mused. She never understood him.
“Well?” she continued. “When she comes down and starts prying our secrets right out of our mouths?”
“Leave it alone, Mother,” he said shortly, his tone deliberately mocking as he raised his coffee mug to his mouth.
A tense silence reigned around the table. Anne’s eyes glittered coldly as she glared at Tyler.
“Brooke is just here to get material for a documentary for charity. She is my guest and I expect her to be treated with civility. Leave our secrets to me. I’ll make sure she’s too distracted to delve that far.”
“How? You gonna seduce her?” Max asked.
“No.”
“Then what?” Max pressed.
“I’ll do whatever needs to be done to keep our family safe. Now everyone, just leave Brooke to me.”
On the staircase, out of sight of the dining room, Brooke slowly retreated, creeping back to her bedroom. What were they talking about? And what on earth had Tyler meant when he said he was going to do whatever it took?
Perhaps there was some secret they didn’t want her to discover? She had stepped within hearing range just in time to hear Tyler say he would do whatever needed to be done. What did he mean by that and what had she gotten herself into?
Several minutes later, Brooke stepped out to the dining room again. The Hardings were all wrapping up and while she noticed they were civil enough, they all left the room almost before her buttocks touched her seat.
She forced a grin as she looked at Tyler, “Is it my imagination, or did I just clear the room?”
“Nah, they’re just done with breakfast. We’ll be inspecting some wells today,” he added.
He looked so handsome sitting there with a slight frown on his face, his dark head of hair in artful disarray.
“We?”
“I thought you were tagging along for the rest of this week?”
“Yeah,” she agreed as she ate a slice of bacon. She closed her eyes, savoring the incredibly delicious taste. Who knew bacon could taste so wonderful?
“Wheels up in ten,” he said smoothly as he got to his feet and strolled out of the dining room.
Brooke made a silent vow as she sipped the last of her coffee; she would not let him touch her again with so much as a ten-foot pole.
“I think I’ve gotten enough answers to questions about your work,” Brooke said, leaning back against her chair in Tyler’s office, five days later. “Now there’s another angle that we must work: family.”
She pretended not to notice that he had tensed up at the word ‘family’.
“We want to explore your relationship with members of your immediate family. Having family gives our rich, powerful, dynamic bachelors a human face and makes them more likable to our readers. That’s all we’re after.”
Tyler studied her out of veiled eyes. “What do you want to know exactly?”
Brooke studied her notes, then looked back up at him, her eyes shining with excitement as she said, “You took over Harding Corporation at a very young age. Your management style obviously differs from your father’s. Can you tell us what he thought of your style?”
Tyler cleared his throat and looked down at his hands, “He was glad I took his legacy so seriously. He was proud. What more do you want to know?”
Brooke stared; he wouldn’t meet her eyes and he was more than a little uncomfortable. Clearly, he was lying.
A past news-clip went through her mind and acting on a hunch, she said, “Tyler, there was an incident at the annual Hamilton Business Conference last year. A reporter caught a clip of Mr. Harding grabbing your lapels and getting in your face about something. He didn’t seem very proud that night,” she added, her pen poised over her notepad.
Tyler’s dark eyes glinted at her as he studied her. “I don’t hear a question in there.”
“What was your relationship with your father really like?”
He grinned suddenly, “Do you have any idea how cute you look?”
The non-sequitur made her blink, but she carefully hid her surprise as an irrational flush of pleasure shot through her. Was he trying to distract her?
“Uh...thanks, I think.”
He chuckled, rising from his position on the seat across from her to lean over her, placing a hand on either side of her chair. Brooke shrank back into her seat. What could he possibly be thinking of?
“I haven’t been able to keep my mind off you all day,” he murmured, letting her know exactly what he had been thinking of. “And I think if you’re honest, you’ve thought of me a great deal, too.”
“Yeah, add modesty to your list of traits while you’re at it,” Brooke uttered dripping sarcasm.
He laughed, unperturbed. Then his laughter faded slowly away to be replaced by a look so hot, probing and intense that Brooke could have sworn it melted the very skin off her bones.
Tyler raised one hand and slowly, gently caressed her cheek. Hot tendrils of sensation spread from the slight brush of his finger and a moan of pleasure escaped her unbidden.
Tyler leaned down and brushed his lips against hers in a heart-wrenchingly tender kiss that made her hands curl into fists.
“I want to make love to you, Brooke,” he whispered against her lips.
“Huh?” she muttered dazedly, hungrily raising her lips for more of his kisses.
“I need to make love to you, Brooke. I want to feel my hard dick entering your soft, wet pussy. I want to fuck you until you beg me not to stop. I want to brand you from the inside out as my own,” he finished.
His words were so erotic, a pool of moisture rushed between her legs. Brooke grabbed his head and pulled his lips down to hers for a hot, deep French kiss.
Tyler swung her up off the chair and into his arms, not breaking the hot deep kiss for a second. He was half in love with her, he mused as his hand moved to cup one full thrusting breast through the smooth material of her silk blouse. Brooke moaned and arched in his arms. He gently deposited her ass onto the table with her legs hanging over the edge of the desk as he raised her skirt to bunch around her waist. Her lace pantyhose were a bit rough against his palms and he groaned with impatience. He wanted to feel her—now. He caressed her briefly though her pantyhose and panties, swallowing her moan with his lips. “Fuck this,” he said, forcefully tearing the crotch of her pantyhose using both hands.
“I can’t wait,” he told her, looking into her eyes as he reached for the zipper of his pants and pulled free his hard, thrusting arousal.
Urgency burned right back at him from her bright green eyes and he grunted in satisfaction as she spread her legs wide.
He positioned himself between her legs, using his finger to shove her panties to the side. Tyler rubbed the head of his dick against her wet, soft, moist opening and she groaned in pleasure, rubbing up against him as he entered her slowly. Her chest was plastered against his chest with his arms holding her up on the edge of the table.
“Yes, yes, yes,” Brooke chanted mindlessly as he entered her again and again. He plunged deeper into her, thrusting so fast it seemed his hips were a jack-hammer.
Brooke clung to him as he increased the tempo, raising her hips to meet his thrusts and matching her rhythm to his own. Br
ooke was helpless to stop the onslaught of feelings he had unleashed. Her back arched in ecstasy as she moaned even louder, panting now with excitement. Pleasure pooled between her thighs, and within seconds, her pussy was pulsing and clenching with the force of her orgasm as a hot, wet rush poured from her pussy. The waves lasted, drawing out longer and longer and when it was finally over, she sagged against his broad chest, sated and spent.
Tyler slowly began to thrust into her again, his dark, slumberous gaze scanning her face as he began to thrust into her again, his face contorted as he concentrated on his thrusts. He changed the angle of his thrusts and began to rub her clitoris between his forefinger and thumb, his thrusts rubbing against her G-spot. He moaned as he entered her, sending waves of pleasure shooting through her and making her spread her legs wider.
He paused in his thrusts to lean her back down onto the table. His large hands shoved her blouse up, exposing her breasts to his view. They were round, plump and beautiful and as smooth as silk. He leaned down to lick one nipple, his tongue laving against the sensitive tip and making her moan in his arms. He entered her as he sucked, shoving against her g-spot while rubbing her clit. Brooke jerked wildly, going berserk as she was assaulted with pleasure from every angle.
Suddenly, another rush of heat pooled in her pelvis and before she could react, the world was tilting on its axis and she was clenching and unclenching around him.
Within seconds, he felt the familiar pleasure rush to pool in his groin and he increased his pace. His threw back his head, groaning as he came, spilling his seed straight into her wet, tight pussy.
As the haze cleared, he realized one scary fact: he had never felt this way about another woman before.
His hands tightened around her as he drifted back to earth. What had he done? Max had only to hear about this to give him a knowing grin and congratulate him for having the good sense to make love to Brooke like he had suggested.
****
Brooke slathered some sunscreen onto her back and laid down to stretch beside the pool. Tyler had been trapped in a series of business meetings since morning and he had wanted to know what she was doing. He sent someone to find her and then sent the person three more times to check on her. It was very flattering and she couldn’t stop the blush that stole up her cheeks as she sunned herself by the pool.