They both laughed at that.
“For real, he is intense, isn’t he? But he doesn’t want me like that. He can’t. A man like him could have any one he wanted. And I’m…” Makenzie gestured, waving her hands around herself and her flaws. “Too curvy, average-looking, and not to mention black. I don’t think I’m the type of woman he goes for.”
Charli’s face sobered as she spoke. “Mak, you’re beautiful, on the inside and outside. Your skin is flawless, your face is lovely, and most men love curves. You really need to look in the mirror. I don’t get it, ’cause I know your house has a mirror in it.”
“I’m not saying that, Charli. I’m not Quasimodo or anything. But I am a realist. I am good-looking, a tight size twelve on a good day, but to a man like that? That’s another story…”
“True, but the way he looked at you and those monitors beeped, along with the way your gaze went soft, tells me another story. Girl, your body wants him like fat kids want cake.” They were both giggling at that analogy.
“Okay, you’re right, but what can I say? He’s gorgeous. That’s the whole point. If someone looks that good—they have to know it. Charyn can do better-looking women than me, and we all know that’s a fact.” Smiling, she said, “But he could most certainly get the business in. Shoot, bet money he makes vestal virgins want to give him some. Probably doesn’t even have to ask for it, either.”
“That is the truth, sistah, preach it!” Laughing some more, Charli asked, “So when can I spring you from the slammer?”
“The doctor mentioned after I ate he would check me out, and then I can go. So whenever the breakfast comes, I would assume.”
“Okay, I’m going to grab a few things and get something cooking for you tonight. I’ll be back in a couple of hours, that good?” Not waiting for a response, she handed Mak her purse. The brown hobo Charyn brought her from the car after the accident.
“Not bad, he got everything out of the car, even your lip gloss,” Charli said as she passed the bag over. “I know this stuff had to be everywhere, as the bag doesn’t even zip closed, right? Hmmm…That man just might be a keeper.” Grabbing her own Gucci bag, Charli left Mak with her thoughts and a lingering scent of gardenia blossoms.
* * * *
After Charyn left the room, he walked to the elevators, headed for the gift shop. By the time he made it to the hospital last night, the gift shop was closed, and he wanted to do something for the beautiful lady upstairs. If he pulled a string or two, he could get her some wonderful swag, but in the end decided not to. She didn’t know him well, and she seemed the type to raise a brow at an expensive gift. Besides, the dominant in him wanted to gift her with something he chose for her. He wanted Makenzie to know he thought highly of her, and that he wanted to get to know the real her. But window-shopping the overpriced crap in the gift shop, he found that nothing was to his liking. Maybe he could have something delivered. Flowers? A gift basket? No, it seemed kind of cheesy and not thoughtful. The type of people who gave pre-made gift baskets really didn’t take the time to know the recipient well enough to give a gift that spoke to their knowledge of the person. Unless…he could have one made for her, filled with things that he knew she liked. Charyn had seen enough of her preferences in the car to work up something suitable. It could work.
After making a few deliberations, he placed a call to his personal assistant, Marge, the eighth wonder of the world. Marge could take even rotten lemons and make the sweetest lemonade.
“Hullo? Charyn is that you?” Marge asked, “What do you want on my day off? So help me if you want some filing done, you’re going to have to do it yourself.”
“No, nothing like that. I met a lady last night and—”
“You want me to get her a going-away gift? She must have been awful if—”
“Marge, it’s not like that. She was in a car wreck, and I just happened to be there. I wanted to get her something nice to make her feel better.”
“Awww…how altruistic of you. The girl must be beautiful.”
“And that she is. I’m thinking gift basket. With a twist, maybe some Godiva, Barnes and Noble gift card, Starbucks dark roast coffee, Ciroc liquor, flowers, bath bubbles, Tylenol, and Beviamo Moscato. The rest is up to you.”
Marge laughed. “Very detailed basket for someone you don’t know. Strange, that…”
Charyn replied, “This is based on things she had in the car with her. She had a coffee cup from Starbucks in the cup holder. She carries an e-book reader in her purse. Most women like chocolate, flowers, and bubble baths. There was a bottle of Ciroc and Beviamo wine she just purchased in a brown paper bag, but both were broken during the accident. The Tylenol is for the headache she is guaranteed to have after the concussion. I need it delivered in an hour, two maximum. That answers your questions?”
“You’re no fun, Charyn, but you are paying me overtime, and I want double at that. Can’t wait to meet her though. Ta-ta!” With that done, he disconnected the call and walked back to the hall of elevators.
Now that he had a game plan, Charyn headed back for her room. As he made his way back, he thought how he could make it work. How does one insinuate themselves in another’s life? The answer came to him in an instant, keep him on her mind. By making sure he kept her mind where he wanted, after a while she would find it second nature to have him by her side. He would send her something every day, cards or flowers, and as time went by she wouldn’t be able to forget him. Would grow to expect him. He would come by her job with lunch, whatever it took. He didn’t think there was a man in her life. If there was, Charli would have happily mentioned it during their conversation. Even if there was, unless the mystery man put a ring on her hand, she was his. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. Stopping in front of the door, steeling himself to enter, he heard snippets of laughter.
“But what can I say, he’s gorgeous.” Charyn heard Makenzie’s dulcet tones even in the hallway. She thought he was handsome! That was half the battle. Paying closer attention, he heard more.
“…can do better-looking women than me and we all know that’s a fact.” She thought she wasn’t attractive enough for him? As he eavesdropped further, he only found even more questions brought to light. Does she date outside her race? Was he not her type? What does she do? He knew she wasn’t married from their short talk earlier, and that she was twenty-eight from the papers in the dash. Would she think a man of thirty-four was too old for her?
Taking a moment to decide whether to knock and enter or walk away and come back was decided when he heard Charli tell her she was leaving. Walking down the hall a bit, he got to the elevators and turned back. That way it would seem like he just arrived back if either of them left the room. Halfway back, he encountered Charli and spoke a brief hello as he kept heading back to Makenzie.
Tapping twice on the door, he heard her give permission. When he entered the room, he could smell Mak, the same warm fresh scent wafting off her as last night. Minus the earlier tang of fear, she smelled like lemon and honey. Totally without artifice and pretense, the aroma was homey, clean, and more than a little erotic. It made him want to lean in and drink her down his throat while he sipped at the well of her sex. He shifted his hips to change the bite of his arousal from bent sideways to down his leg, hoping the relaxed fit of his pants covered his half-hard cock. Closing the door behind him, he walked closer to the bed, looking her in the eye.
Charyn watched as the direct look he gave Makenzie made her nipples hard, and they were ill covered by the well-worn, over-washed cotton gown. He’d even noted her embarrassment as she reddened when she looked down and saw her shameful state. A poor attempt to hide the instinctive motion to cover herself by lowering her eyes and grabbing the remote control also revealed itself in the fidgeting motions she made. Breath exiting her chest in pants, her neck and cheeks heated further to a faint burgundy blush. He saw her every movement, cataloging them. Charyn knew that as her gaze skittered to the TV it was a futile ploy to avoid him, and her
face said everything her lips wouldn’t. His eyes followed hers to the small screen in the corner. Nova was on, and apparently the mating rituals of big cats were on the menu. He laughed mentally as he watched her flip through stations to give the shaking hands something to do, to focus on aside from the white elephant in the room. The undeniable attraction and desire they felt on sight.
But he was aware that there was no other place to look. He made sure of it.
“Why did you come back?” Makenzie asked, brows drawn together pensively.
“I think you know why, Makenzie.” He heard her laugh slightly and wondered why.
“What’s so funny?” He let his expression tell her that he would find out what she meant by hook or crook.
“Nothing. I was just thinking about something Charli mentioned to me earlier.” Makenzie gazed away, and he knew she was hoping the lie would hold water with him. Normally it would. He didn’t know her from Adam. But something told him that it was much more than she admitted to, and he would believe the same instincts that drew him to her.
“Liar, liar, pants on fire.” He cocked a brow.
“Don’t think you beat around the bush, mister.”
“Oh, I don’t think that’s a problem. I don’t beat around bushes, I beat in them.” She laughed again, and the sounds made him chuckle too.
Charyn loved the sight before him, her laughter and her showing him her submissive needs with her body language. He was struck with the sudden urge to drape her in the flimsiest silk and torture her into squirming against his sheets. After soft touches and caresses, he would spank her to orgasm while she sweated the fabric translucent. He would have thought the image was real if not for the beeping of the varied monitors around her. His shaft was now almost at full mast, the zipper grinding into his cock, biting him. He had to taste her mouth, just to tide him over until he took the rest of her.
Slowly, Charyn lowered himself onto the nearest recliner, sitting upright at Mak’s side. Their bodies spoke for them, broadcasting desires each only dreamed of. He wanted to get his hands on her. She sat tall and taut, a drawstring holding her in a tight line, shoulders drawn to her ears.
“Stop.” The word, though pitched low, was forceful and immediately had her questioning.
“What do you mean?” Spoken softly, her reply showed him she knew. Knew, that is, what he meant when the one word command was spoken.
“You’re tensing up. I can’t see your neck as it’s hidden behind shoulders and ears.” He lightened the tenor of his words with a tug of lips, a half-smile. “Let me help you with that.” Her brief silence was taken for consent. He stood and said, “Scoot forward and sit up.” Lowering the rail at his side, he watched her move further toward the end of the bed.
Charyn watched as Makenzie moved instinctively at his request. Although calling it a command would have been more apropos. By the time she could have thought to question him, he was already behind her. One long leg was curled under him, the other bent at the knee to rest his foot on the floor. He slid his hands, one crooking around her waist, and listened to her breath stutter. The other crossed under her arm, hooking upward to put his hand on her shoulder. His forearm brushed her breasts on its journey up, and he heard her hiss.
Charyn felt her grit her teeth, her jaw tucked in his arm, vainly attempting to keep the sound at bay. But she knew he heard, as his arms gripped her tighter. The fingers at her shoulder rubbed firm circles until the muscles there melted. Moving slowly, the fingers skimmed to her neck. They tilted her head over, rubbing tiny ripples over the delicate skin from her ear down. Makenzie swayed forward, and he allowed it to a point.
Once her chin dropped, his fingers worked more magic, stroking just above the neck of the hospital issue gown. He stroked there twice, tugging the tie loose. Charyn’s arms pulled her closer, and she bit her lip to keep quiet. He switched arms, lingering on the brush of arm over chest. Her nipples begged for more caresses, the stiff peaks pouting for him. Once he arranged her to his liking, Charyn wasted no time in pleasantries. The hand he initially caressed her shoulder with moved in figure eights, starting from earlobe then ending at the joining of her shoulder and nape. He grew impatient as he felt her arousal heighten, and Makenzie’s head dropped back to rest by his heart. She attempted to flex her back, but Charyn kept the hands caging her taut, not allowing movement. Frustrated, he listened to her moan, the sound low and fleeting. Charyn finished rubbing out the tense shoulder gently. Stirring upward, he moved her forward then lay her back down as he stood beside the bed. Mak’s eyes, pitch dark and angry, spoke volumes.
“It’s not the right time, not here,” Charyn said.
“Then why start it,” Mak replied, tone biting.
“I had to touch you, in some way. Right now.”
“Well, you got what you wanted, so you can go. I need a shower.”
“Let me tell you this. It was far from what I want with you. When I get what I want, you’ll be the first to know. I promise before I get it you will have begged for it, too. Be back.” Charyn sauntered away, once again closing the door behind him. He just needed a moment, a breath not scented with her skin. So he could get his angry cock under control. She felt so good, more than good, under his hands. He opted to refresh her melted bedside pitcher with ice, and gain the few minutes he needed to get himself together.
* * * *
Makenzie felt as if her skin was too tight and every cell in her body was tuned to him. So erotic, watching him watch her, the hairs on her arm rising, goose bumps rushing her arm. Seeing all of his hunger and desires for her, the potent need he focused in her direction as he left her.
Makenzie scrambled out of bed and turned on the shower. Once she got the water running nice and warm, she climbed in, letting the bite of scalding water work magic. Lathering a cloth, she washed and reminisced of his hands on her. By the end of her short ablutions, she was panting, again her body crying out to come. She parted her lower lips with her fingers, thinking of Charyn’s hands on her, around her, holding her. She said his name, grunted, as she captured her clit, rolling it. Her rock-hard nipples begged for some of the same, and her spare hand was ready, pinching and pulling the turgid tips. The joint assault was too much to handle, and she screamed, sagging against the wall.
Feeling refreshed, Makenzie dried off, and she padded back to the bed wearing a towel. Looking up, she screeched to a stop. There in the corner was Charyn. From his face, he heard everything. His name, my coming, all of it. Face flaming, Mak dodged back to the bathroom. She donned another pathetically patterned hospital gown, splashed her cheeks to cool them, and walked out again. He was still in the corner, silent. The obnoxious man just stared at her, his eyes dark and glazed.
His voice was husky, words gravel over her ears. “Come here.” Mak did as he bid her, the few steps a chasm thick with passion.
“You should have waited for me. I could have made it better for you.”
With that statement, he clasped her upper arms, pulling her forward as he leaned in, sealing her lips with his. The first touch of mouths declared war. She wanted control at first, wanted to force the next gasp of breath from his lips. Wanted even more to taste the air he breathed. Breathless, Makenzie broke first. She crooked her foot, twining his calf. Her pelvis snuck forward in the cradle of his hips, sandwiching his erection. Charyn responded swiftly, taking the dominion she rescinded. He fit his lips over hers, tongues tasting again. He stroked his hips against her, and the denim-clad cock barely scraped her clit. She moaned, but the sound was aborted by the tongue Charyn used to swallow it. His grunt matched hers, the sounds eaten in the onslaught.
Tearing his mouth away from the vacuum seal of hers, he spoke a hoarse whisper against her ear, “I am going to make you come. Just remember two things. It will be quick, and no screaming.”
Mak laughed, the sound dry and rusty. “I don’t think that’s a problem.”
“You’ll see. That honey voice of yours would make screaming musical.”
She wanted to look away, but there was nothing worth seeing more than him, the only unmovable object in her sphere. Even as she consciously made the effort to pay attention somewhere else, he was there. Scalding her with desires she didn’t know grown women had. The desire to have back-scratching sex, the kind where both parties were hurt just a bit by the violence of it. The need to be taken with fury as she earned whatever he desired giving her.
She spent many moments aware of him in the aftermath of her pleasure. It wasn’t uncomfortable, and the quiet seemed normal. Natural, the way the woods grow silent when a hunter passes by. She was the hunted, and outclassed in the sensual arts. He would devour her, and a large part of Makenzie came to herself as he gentled her, soothing her back down from the peak. He rubbed her face, her back, as she descended. She was clinging to him like ivy as he gave her small kisses over her face and carried her back to the bed. Lying down, she wished the moment never ended. She didn’t want to let him go, not yet. Looking at the man who gave her more than her own hands ever did, Makenzie shuddered.
Willows, Jennifer - Bound by Accident [Moreland Brothers 1] (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 4