To Win Her Smile

by Mackenzie Crowne

  The floor beneath them jerked to a stop as they reached their destination and Piper grabbed hold of the arm rest. “If you say so.”

  His chuckle turned into a deep-throated laugh. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

  He opened the driver’s door and stepped out. She exited the vehicle into a garage of sorts, large enough to hold half a dozen SUVs, and joined him at the boot where he collected their bags.

  “What is this place?”

  He tapped a button on the hatch and stepped clear as it began to close. With a hand to the small of her back, he led her toward the brick wall to their left. “It’s home.”

  “Another home?” She shook her head and he smiled.

  “The place in Oklahoma City is a convenience for when family calls. But mainly, it’s Meg and Mandy’s home.”

  She nodded, understanding, then arched a brow. “And the condo in the city across the river?”

  “Provides me with a place to entertain when necessary and somewhere to crash when I need to. It also keeps the Nosey Parkers off the scent of this place.” He winked and she smiled.

  Toward the front of the building, a repurposed barn door hung from an industrial rail. Recessed into the brick beside the door was a discreet keypad. Wyatt punched in a set of numbers and a humming noise behind them drew Piper’s attention. She turned and blinked as the metal grating beneath the SUV lifted several inches, spun the vehicle one-hundred-eighty degrees, and lowered until flush with the surrounding floor.

  She faced Wyatt. “That’s quite handy.”

  He grinned and pressed in another set of numbers. The barn door slid to the left, revealing an enormous, open-concept loft.

  Piper gasped. “Oh. How lovely.”

  He held out a hand, indicating she enter before him, and she stepped inside. Wide wood-plank floors gleamed in the natural light courtesy of at least a dozen floor-to-ceiling windows. To the right, the original brick had been left alone on the building’s long back span facing the river and city beyond. Otherwise, a soft cream paint covered the rest of the walls and softened the industrial feel of the exposed beam and pipe ceiling and black metal staircase leading to a second level.

  One giant room, there were no interior walls to define the different spaces. Strategically placed furniture achieved that end. In the spacious, modern kitchen, top-of-the-line stainless appliances were tucked between glass-fronted cabinets and black granite countertops. An eight-foot-long gas cook-top island separated the kitchen from a large but casual living space with several comfortable looking lounge chairs and the largest TV Piper had ever seen. Beyond a huge sectional couch was a game area of sorts. A lovely, hand-carved pool table held a position of honor. Half a dozen vintage pinball machines and three dart boards lined the wall facing the street.

  At the far end of the room, a charming reading nook was tucked beneath the stairs. Skirting the oversized sofa and ottoman, Piper wandered over and studied the built-in shelves loaded with books. Not surprisingly, amongst the mysteries, political thrillers, and classical literary titles were quite a few children’s books. Selecting a thin volume from the shelf, she grinned at the cat in his red and white striped hat.

  A glass of wine appeared in her line of vision. She accepted Wyatt’s offering, and turned to face him. “You have a rather eclectic taste in literature.”

  He smiled. “I do not like them, Sam-I-Am, I do not like green eggs and ham.” With a waggle of his brows, he tapped the rim of his glass to hers. “Mandy knows every line of that one. It’s her favorite.”

  Utterly charmed, Piper grinned. “She’s rather sweet, and you’re very good with her.”

  “She makes it easy.” Helpless pleasure tugged at his lips. “She loves with the entirety of her huge heart, not holding back a thing, and doesn’t have a judgmental bone in her body. That kind of acceptance is rare in this world.” A sudden wrinkle appeared between his brows as if he’d just remembered the wall of secrecy he’d helped to erect around his niece had recently suffered its first crack, thanks to Piper. “And when the world finds out about her, they’ll show her the exact opposite. She’ll be judged and found lacking, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do to stop it.”

  Frustration stretched the tanned skin over his cheekbones and he swallowed his wine in a single gulp.

  Clutching fingers of guilt wrapped around Piper’s throat and threatened to steal her breath. She should have kept her mouth shut. After all, telling him what she suspected wouldn’t make a bit of difference in what happened in the future.

  “Wyatt.” She rested a hand on his forearm and squeezed.

  “Shit. I’m sorry.” His chest expanded on a cleansing breath. “I didn’t bring you here to discuss my fucked-up family and its secrets. I’ve got something much more pleasant in mind.”

  So did she, but that didn’t change the facts. “I’ve obviously opened a painful can of worms and hurt you in the process. That wasn’t my intention.” Surprise lit his eyes, but she rushed on before he could speak. “I’m a photographer who was given up close and personal access to you and your family.”

  He nodded, but didn’t say a word. After plucking the wineglass from her fingers, he deposited it and his empty glass onto one of the bookshelves, then slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her against his chest.

  With her hands tucked between their bodies, she pushed forward in her attempt to ease his mind. “Looking at the world through a lens alters the view, Wyatt. Sharpens it. I tend to see things others won’t necessarily.”

  “That makes sense.” He traced her spine with his fingertips, then continued on to her bottom and cupped her cheek in his palm. Clearly, he’d lost interest in the subject, but she was trying to make a point.

  She cleared her throat. “What I’m trying to say is, it wasn’t until I’d seen all of you together in your natural element that I recognized something wasn’t as it seemed. The average person looking at Mandy isn’t likely to make the connection to you, and therefore, to Megan.”

  He dipped his head, spreading heated kisses across her cheekbone to her ear, then hummed appreciatively at her helpless shudder. “All I see is a beautiful woman with a gentle heart and a glass-is-half-full attitude.”

  The combined warmth of his compliment and his big body pressed to hers interrupted her train of thought and she sighed. “Wyatt?”

  “Mm hmm.”

  He nipped at her lobe, and she frowned. “Never mind. I can’t remember what I was going to say.”

  His dark rumble of laughter vibrated from his chest to hers and her lips curved in an answering smile. As usual, he didn’t even have to try and she was seduced. And two could play that game.

  Freeing one of her hands from between them, she slid her palm down his chest to his stomach, bypassing his waist to cup the hard length of his erection through the soft denim of his jeans. His quick intake of breath both thrilled and encouraged. She hummed deep in her throat.

  “Is there a bedroom anywhere close?”

  He swallowed, and his Adam’s apple jumped with an audible click. “Right upstairs.”

  She fluttered her lashes. “Were you planning to show it to me?”

  Her world spun crazily and she yelped as he swept her from her feet. With an arm beneath her legs and the other bracing her back, he headed for the stairs. “Duchess, I thought you’d never ask.”

  Chapter 16

  Wyatt climbed the steps to his bedroom, aware he was breaking his number one rule. He didn’t bring women here. Ever. He’d spoken the unvarnished truth when he’d told Piper this was his home, but the converted warehouse was more than that. Purchased in Rosa’s name with the express purpose of avoiding a paper trail leading to him, it was his refuge, a sanctuary from the glare of the spotlight, the only true escape he had from the pressures of who he was and the life he’d chosen.

  Fewer than a dozen people knew
the place existed and less than that had visited. The fact that he’d brought Piper here was a move he’d have to consider later, but at the moment, it felt simply…right.

  Pressing a knee to the mattress, he lowered her to her back, but didn’t join her yet. Sliding onto his hip, he braced his hand on the other side of her slim waist. She didn’t say a word, but her green-eyed gaze held a silent question as he took a moment to savor the sight of her.

  No sassy phrase was printed over her chest today. Instead, a soft oversized sweater of pale green molded to the swell of her breasts. Combined with the plain black ball cap, faded jeans, and sneakers, the look didn’t quite mesh with the debutant vibe she’d projected that first night at the fundraiser. Then again, neither had any of the printed sweatshirts he’d seen her wear since she’d been back in town. Not that he was complaining. She could wear a paper bag and he’d be turned on.

  The urge to tug today’s cap from her head and bury his fingers in her curls had been driving him crazy all morning. Pinching the bill between finger and thumb, he peeled the hat free. Released from captivity, her curls tumbled around her, bold and bright against his pillow as the afternoon sunlight turned the auburn locks to a silky mane of fire.

  Holding her emerald gaze, gone dark with anticipation, he picked up a bouncy curl and tested the texture. Cool to the touch, the thick strands slid over his fingers. “Beautiful. I’ve dreamed of having you in my bed, of touching you and kissing every inch of your skin until you come apart in my arms.”

  Her chest rose and fell in erratic breaths. “I’ve dreamed of you, too.”

  Delighted at the admission, he grinned and lowered to his elbow so that he leaned over her with several tempting body parts within reach. “You have, huh? That’s good to know.” He twined a curl around his finger. “What did I do to you in these dreams?”

  Her irises dilated until they were a thin rim of green surrounding black. “You made love to me.” A crease appeared between her brows. “Sort of.”

  “Sort of?”

  She arched an accusing brow. “I was quite disturbed to learn the dream Wyatt is something of a bounder. Every time he brought me close to climax, he disappeared.”

  Well, hell. It appeared his little duchess enjoyed a bit of chatter in her foreplay. He was happy to play along. “The bastard.” He chuckled at her quick grin. “You should have given the real me a call. The way I remember it, I was right there with you in my kitchen when you came…apart.”

  A soft moan and she covered her eyes with one hand. “I’m still rather embarrassed by that.”

  “You shouldn’t be. Watching you come was beautiful, and you enjoyed it.”

  “I couldn’t help myself. It was,” she peeked through her fingers, “quite lovely.”

  It was his turn to moan, but fuck. Hearing her admit she’d enjoyed an orgasm he’d given her in that proper British accent was the hottest thing he’d ever heard in bed.

  With what little blood remaining in his head rushing south, he dropped his gaze to the luscious mounds of her breasts beneath pale green jersey knit. Once or twice this morning, he’d wondered at the lack of straps that should have been visible beneath the loose neckline. Tugging the soft material to the side, he swallowed at the sight of the naked expanse of shoulder he exposed.

  “No straps.” He lifted his gaze to hers as his pulse sped up. “What happened to your bra, duchess?”

  Her lips formed a silent oh and she slid her hand over her belly to pause on her left breast. His pulse kicked into overdrive as she drew the tip of her index finger over the nipple peaking the soft material, then on to the other, before she dropped her hand to her belly.

  “Oh, dear. Apparently, I forgot the garment in my race to get to the studio.”

  He bit back a laugh at her prim response, even as the blood arrived at his painfully engorged cock. Fucking A. Who was the tease now?

  “I should probably investigate. Just to be sure.”

  Her exaggerated sigh lifted her chest and stretched the sweater even tighter against the hardened buds of her nipples. “That sounds like a splendid idea.”

  Damn, she was beautiful. Covering her mouth with his, he devoured her in a hard and fast kiss before backing away to tug her sweater down by the neckline. The spit in his mouth dried up as the creamy skin of her breast was revealed in slow degrees. By the time her tightly beaded nipple popped free, he was close to panting.

  If he wasn’t inside her in three minutes, he was going it embarrass himself, but he couldn’t resist tasting her first. Dipping his head, he took the puckered bud between his teeth and, closing his lips around her, he sucked.

  A groan escaped as her body arched beneath his chest. He straightened and stared at the glistening peak of her nipple, then slid the hem of the sweater up and over her head exposing all of her to his hungry view. Tossing the garment aside, he treated himself to the silky feel and taste of her once again. With hands, tongue, and teeth, he stroked and laved her soft skin. She squirmed beneath him, her fingers snatching at the hem of his T-shirt and tugging.

  Shifting away from her, he reached behind his back. He fisted his shirt between his shoulder blades and yanked it over his head. Both of her hands had come to rest over his pecs before he’d fully turned back to her. With a gentle shove, she tumbled him to his back and rose to her knees. She traced her fingertips over the crouching tiger tattoo on his right shoulder and upper arm, then rested both her hands on his abs.

  “You’re beautiful, Wyatt, and now it’s my turn to touch.”

  His heartbeat pounded out a tango in his chest, and he covered her hands with his, delaying her exploration. “Duchess, as much as I want your hands on me, I think we should hold off on that for this first time.” Wrapping his fingers around one of her wrists, he moved her hand past his stomach and brushed her palm over his crotch. “You’ve already got me primed and ready to blow.”

  “Oh my.” Her chest quivered with her quickened breathing as she went to work on the button fly of his jeans. “Then we’ll simply have to hurry this time.”

  Several flicks of her nimble fingers dispersed the buttons, and she tugged the denim down his hips. When she curled her fingertips into the waistband of his briefs, he groaned.

  “I mean it, duchess. I’m damned close.”

  Her eyes flashed with intent as she peeked up at him. “I can see that, but it is my turn.”

  She shimmied his briefs down his thighs and his erection sprang free. Humming deep in her throat, she shoved his underwear and jeans to his ankles. Toeing off his loafers, he kicked free of his clothes.

  “I’ll make you a deal.” Naked to the waist, she bent over him. “I won’t touch you…with my hands.”

  Fuck. Me. Dead.

  His head slammed to the pillow, and he hissed through his teeth as her cool curls brushed over his thighs at the same time her hot mouth all but swallowed his cock.

  Once. Twice. A third time, she measured him with her lips, teeth, and tongue. Helpless against the wet heat surrounding him, his hips jerked convulsively. Her hum of encouragement vibrated through his shaft and the drag of her lips on his sensitized skin as she pulled back was nearly his undoing.

  “Piper.” Her name was little more than a plea as the tingling forerunners of climax tightened his balls.

  She swirled the tip of her tongue across his slit and her green eyes, hazy with passion, met his. “Did I mention I might have forgotten my knickers as well?”

  His surprised bark of laughter cut off abruptly as she licked the tip, took him deep, and sucked. The orgasm hit him so fast, so powerfully, he couldn’t prevent it. Stabbing his fingers into her hair, he attempted to tug her free at the last second, but she resisted his efforts. A guttural moan rattled his chest, and his cock twitched through multiple excruciatingly pleasurable jettings as he surrendered to her will.

  Several moments later, with
his chest cavity swelling and contracting like an overworked bellows and his heartbeat still somewhere close to stroke range, Wyatt lifted his head. He blinked at Piper as she crawled up his body, her eyes glazed and hot and a smug curl on her lips.

  He dropped his head back to the pillow and shut his eyes. “I’m going to need a minute, duchess.”

  “I know.” She settled beside him, tucking close with her head against his shoulder and her hand over his heart. “What is it you Yanks say? I rocked your world?”

  His snort of laughter ended on a coughing wheeze.

  She lifted her head and he opened his eyes to find her staring down at him. A grin stretched her full lips. “You can thank me later.” She batted her lashes. “When you can breathe again.”

  Her squeal echoed off the high ceiling as he bolted up and rolled her to her back. “We Yanks have another saying.” Resting on one elbow, he cupped her right breast. Tweaking the tightly budded nipple with his thumb, he didn’t miss her subtle gasp.

  “What would that be?”

  “Payback’s a bitch.” With a grin, he lowered his fingers to the waist of her jeans. “Did you really forget to wear your knickers?”

  She batted her lashes. “I don’t know where my head was this morning.” He flicked open the snap and peeled the zipper down, and she shivered. “Of course, my absentmindedness might have had something to do with a certain bold and tidy gentleman promising me an evening full of carnal delights.”

  He didn’t give her a chance to prepare, simply slid his hand into the opening of her jeans. Sure as shit, the little darling had gone commando. She was wet and hot, and his cock twitched with renewed life as he plunged a finger inside her. Adding a second, he withdrew and plunged again, then repeated the stroke several more times. Her hips swiveled, undulated. She ground against his palm. He rotated his hand, massaging her clit, and captured her keening cry with his mouth.

  With her body still quivering, he rose to his knees. He removed her heels, then stripped her jeans from her hips and legs. Tossing the denim and her shoes over the side of the bed, he spread her thighs and knelt between them. Her swollen folds glistened with the result of her passion. He bit back a tortured moan, and stroked himself as she watched.