Full House Seduction

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Full House Seduction Page 4

by A. C. Arthur


  “No. This is just so boring. Since we’re both out here I was thinking…”

  What were you thinking? Brock found himself with a ridiculous urge to hear all her thoughts, to know any and everything about her. She was even prettier first thing in the morning with her hair soaking wet, no makeup and a bathing suit that would send a blind geriatric man into cardiac arrest.

  “Let’s race!” she suggested with an exuberant smile.

  Now that was the very last thing Brock had imagined or hoped she’d say.

  “Race? I don’t think so,” he began.

  “Oh, come on, don’t be such a dud.”

  Smacking her hands against the water, she smiled as it splashed in his face. Brock blinked the droplets away, not sure if he’d just been insulted or not.

  “Unless you’re afraid to be beaten by a girl.” She batted her long lashes and gave a sweeter than natural smile.

  Brock caught the competitive gleam in her eye. She was certainly a surprise. Bright and chipper so early in the morning and manipulative, too. Oh yeah, he was liking her more and more by the second. She’d suggested the race, but Brock was going to make sure the results turned out in his favor.

  “What do I get if I win?” he asked.

  “Hmm,” she thought for a minute. “My admiration for loosening up enough to race in the first place.”

  “Okay,” Brock said slowly. He could accept her admiring him. But he wanted more. “And what else?”

  “A ‘congratulations,’” she answered with a raised brow.

  “Add a congratulatory hug and kiss and I’m game.”

  Noelle contemplated a moment. Kissing Brock again would be dangerous, she knew, and potentially fatal to her newfound resolve. But there were no worries—he wouldn’t win.

  “Deal.” She reached out a hand only to be startled by the instant warmth when his connected with hers in what should have been a friendly shake. It was weird and made her uncomfortable so she pulled away.

  Brock’s smile never wavered. “Need a handicap, pretty lady?”

  Her answer was another splash of water in his face. “Only if you do.”

  Laughter bubbled in his chest as he smiled. “Four lengths,” he said as they made their way to the end of the pool.

  “On your mark,” she said keeping her eye on the other side of the pool.

  “Go!” he yelled and they both pushed off.

  Brock was a swimmer, she probably should have guessed that by the size of his pool, but still she’d challenged him. And as far as he could see, she was going neck and neck with him.

  Slapping the wall they headed off for the second length. She was beautiful, more so than just the nice body and pretty smile. She cut through the water with a sleek grace that rivaled any Olympic swimmer. Never backing down, never slowing, she kept up with him without even panting. He was beyond impressed.

  On the third length Brock picked up, waiting to catch the win, but she kept up with him, just a head behind. He was still holding back, toying with the idea of letting her win, since she was a guest in his house and all that. Then he thought of her feisty personality, her teasing little dare, the way she’d kissed him so passionately last night without hesitation, without regret. Noelle Vincent was not a woman to be discounted in any way, shape or form, least of all a swim race that she’d initiated.

  So Brock let loose, passing her by a full body length as he reached his long arm out and tapped the wall almost thirty seconds before her.

  Noelle came up behind him, heart hammering in her chest. She’d known the exact moment he’d stopped playing with her and appreciated him all the more for it. If she were going to lose, it had better be to someone who was strong enough to race at their full potential and not give her some egotistical female handicap.

  The race had been exhilarating and she was pumped. So much so that the ramifications of his winner’s reward fled from her mind the moment he came closer, snaking his arm around her waist and pulling her up against his chest.

  “Now the winner takes the prize,” he said, lowering his head until their lips were a breath away.

  It felt so right—his tight grip around her waist, the close proximity of their bodies—that she could see no problems, no issues to hold her back. His gaze held hers and she quite simply melted against him. If this were the prize, she might be tempted to lose to him more often.

  Chapter 6

  Kiss number two was even more spine tingling than the first, and when Brock’s fingers slid beneath the rim of her bikini bottom Noelle was ready to beg.

  Hungrily his mouth ravaged hers as they stood in the shallow end of the pool. Again her arms slipped effortlessly around his neck. Why this man she barely knew had this effect on her was a fleeting thought in her mind.

  His fingers stroked her center, with the same heated sensations as his tongue.

  She shivered and he groaned.

  “I want you,” he said simply, his lips gliding along the line of her jaw.

  Noelle had a moment or two to contemplate the words before he was kissing her again. Scraping her toes against the bottom of the pool, she knew this wasn’t a dream. But how was it that just yesterday morning she was waking in her own bed, swimming in the pool she’d become accustomed to in the last two years and now she was here, in Maryland, kissing this man, loving the feel of his muscled body against hers? This was fast. Too fast, her rational brain said.

  But, oh, so good, was the unanimous decision as one word slipped from her lips. “Yes.”

  Her legs were wrapped securely around his waist while he supported her with one hand to her neck. The other hand had slipped quickly between their bodies, pushing aside her swimsuit bottom, searching and finding.

  Noelle gasped, letting her head fall back as the sensations rippled through her with the ferocity of a summer storm.

  “You’re so ready for me,” Brock groaned in her ear. “Were you thinking of this all night like I was?”

  She couldn’t speak, didn’t dare utter a word for fear of it coming out in a voice she didn’t recognize. Her response was only a jerk of her hips as one finger slipped into her tight passage.

  His shoulders were slippery as she tried to hold on, her nails scraping along his light skin. There would probably be marks there later but right now she couldn’t be concerned with that.

  “Tell me what you want,” he pressed her as his tongue traced a heated path from her ear down to her neck.

  “Dammit!” Noelle cursed. The emotions swirling through her were almost too much to bear, the controversy flying like fierce lightning bolts.

  Brock had no idea her cursing was due to the war going on between her mind and her body when he said, “Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”

  Her mind was quickly losing the battle.

  She shouldn’t be doing this, not with him, not now. But she couldn’t stop him, didn’t really want to stop him. Each thrust of his finger pressed deeper inside of her, rubbing against sensitive muscles, pushing her closer to a blissful release.

  “Tell me and I’ll give it to you.”

  She hadn’t said it, but Brock felt it. They both wanted the same thing. Her heart pounded as frantically as his own, their need too urgent, too feral to be denied. So pulling his hand from her enticing warmth he freed his aching erection and followed the trail to ecstasy.

  The moment he was inside her they both stilled. Above, the sun rose higher in the sky, its intense rays beaming down on them. Around them the chlorine-tinted water rippled, giving their bodies a buoyed sensation that only seemed to stroke their desire.

  “Yes,” she moaned.

  “Hell, yes!” Brock roared, pulled out slightly, then slamming back into her heated center.

  In fevered motions they both pumped and groaned until the end was all they could see, the glorious release all they could comprehend.

  Her thighs tightened around his waist, her nails beginning to break the skin on his shoulders. Her entire body shivered
and she let loose one slow, long moan that vibrated in the air.

  On that note Brock pulled out halfway, holding his body stiffly as he slid back into her for a second and third time. Then everything went hazy as his release slammed into him like a tidal wave. He held her close, hoping he didn’t crush her but defenseless against the urge.

  For endless moments they just stood there, trying to catch their breath. Brock shifted first as Noelle’s head was resting on his shoulder, her face hidden from him. Without a word, he scooped her up by the knees and carried her to the edge of the pool where the steps were. Climbing out, he left the towels and headed straight for the house, straight for his bedroom, where he should have taken her in the first place if he’d been thinking logically.

  The bedroom seemed to be a million miles away as Brock finally carried Noelle through the door.

  Setting her gently onto his bed Brock watched her wrap her arms around herself and shiver. He retrieved a towel from the bathroom and wrapped it around her shoulders.

  She took a deep breath and looked up at him then. Her light eyes lacked that spark he’d first noticed in them yesterday. Instead they seemed tinged with something akin to sadness. Immediately Brock felt like an ass.

  Not only had they just met yesterday, but he’d taken her fast and hot in a pool as if they were teenagers. As a result this felt like an awkward morning after. The problem was, Brock didn’t do morning afters. Sex at the female’s house was his choice. It afforded him the perfect escape plan—he could get up and leave whenever he got ready, which was always before morning. But Noelle was here, in his house, in his bed. They were working together on an important project and would be spending a great deal of time together for the next three months.

  Leaving her at the pool wasn’t going to work, not that he’d even considered doing anything that childish and disgraceful.

  “I apologize,” he started. “I didn’t plan for this to happen. Not out there in the pool and—”

  She held up a hand to stop his words.

  “Saying we got carried away is an understatement,” she said quietly.

  No, Brock thought. There was no escaping the tremendous amount of guilt he felt. Strands of dark wet hair lay flat against her head, some sticking to her face. Lifting a hand gently he pushed them back, then paused at her elegantly arched eyebrow and eyes that pinned him with a serious gaze.

  “Yeah, that’s an understatement, all right,” he said. The funny thing about his escape plan was that, at this very moment, even if it were possible, Brock was certain he wouldn’t have acted on it.

  Noelle sat up straighter and squared her shoulders. “Good, we agree on that point. This project we’re working on is important to Linc and so it’s important to me. I won’t let him down.”

  “I didn’t think you would.”

  “Okay.” She nodded. “We’re clear on another point. So there’s no need to tell him about our momentary lapse in judgment.”

  Her words seemed cold and distant, which really shouldn’t have bothered him. Still, Brock wasn’t entirely sure that he liked them. “Is that what this was?”

  “Yes. Of course it was. Neither of us were thinking straight. It was early and we had that vigorous swim. We’re the only two people in this house, for Pete’s sake! A physical attraction would be imminent. So we acted on it and it’s done. We’ve gotten it out of our system and it’s now time to move on.”

  She was talking so fast and she was still in that barely there swimsuit, although the towel tried to cover most of her exposed skin. He was kneeling in front of her, thankfully, so the fact that he was becoming aroused again was currently his secret. Still, Brock found it difficult to keep up. “Okay,” he finally managed.

  Then she was moving, getting up off the bed. “I’m glad we see eye to eye on this. I’ll be ready for our meeting in an hour,” she said, reaching for the doorknob, then pausing.

  Never turning back to him she said in a voice that was quiet and just on the side of sad, “This is not who I am. I don’t do this anymore.” With that she slipped out the door.

  Brock was left with nothing to do or say but stare at the spot where she’d been. In the span of an hour he’d awakened, gone for a swim, shared in the most explosive sex of his life with a pretty woman and was now alone again in his bedroom. Was it all a dream?

  Hell no! Each touch, each kiss, each moan was as real as his now-withering arousal. And sadly enough, so was her quick and efficient, yet troubled and piercing, departure.

  Standing up, he then fell on the bed and sighed. “Good morning to me.”

  Noelle slouched against the door to her room, which she’d just closed tightly. Her head lolled back and she shut her eyes. How could she have been so stupid?

  “Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!” she hissed, punctuating each word with a fist to her thigh.

  Hadn’t she convinced herself that she was going to change? She was going to be different with future relationships. Hadn’t she learned anything from dealing with Luther? Obviously not.

  Forcing herself to move away from the door, Noelle went to the closet where she’d hung most of her clothes yesterday. Retrieving a linen pantsuit that should stand up against the sweltering heat and allow her to appear professional at the same time, she moved to the bed and dropped her clothes there. Then she looked down at herself. She’d had sex with her boss’s cousin, in his pool, after knowing him for less than twenty-four hours. The boss’s cousin who she would be working closely with for the next few months. Could her life possibly get any worse than this?

  Yes, it definitely could, she thought with horror. They hadn’t even used a condom!

  Growling like a caged animal, Noelle grabbed clean underwear and made her way into the bathroom, immediately switching the shower on to hot water. Standing in the mirror she went ahead and chucked the bikini, then simply looked at herself. Who was this person and why was she so prone to make the same mistakes over and over again? Slapping her palms down onto the vanity, she allowed a few moments to break down. No, she didn’t cry because tears were like foreign objects to her after Grammy’s passing.

  It had been almost four years now since the grandmother who had raised Noelle and Jade had died, but the pain sometimes was still fresh. If she were here, Noelle knew without a doubt that Grammy would not be pleased. She was less than pleased herself. After the affair with Luther she’d sworn that being intimate with a man before she really got to know him was a mistake, one that she’d never make again. And yet, here she was in that same predicament not even a year later.

  But it wasn’t too late. It was never too late to change. This was a lesson Noelle had already learned. So immediately regrouping she stepped into the shower. This was just a temporary setback—she still had a job to do. Still had yet another point to prove to Linc and then to herself. She was attracted to Brock Remington—that much was clear. He was attracted to her but he wasn’t what she needed right now, he couldn’t be. How she knew this for certain, Noelle didn’t even have the time to contemplate. She needed to get dressed and to go on with business as planned. Just as she told Brock, they would put this digression behind them and they would move forward. She could do this, she knew she could, she told herself as she lifted her face to the spray of warm water.

  She was not the same immature, out-of-control woman she’d been while Grammy was alive. She was different. Her life was different and she intended to prove that point to everyone she knew.

  Her own vanilla-scented soap that she’d brought with her was in the soap dish and she scooped it up, lathering it over her body, all the while chanting I can do this. I will do this.

  That diatribe had carried her through the grooming process, but it was when she’d stood dressed and made up, ready to leave, that she faltered. The bravado she liked to display was slipping just a little. Standing at the bedroom door, one hand on the knob, the other holding her purse, Noelle once again grappled for control.

  She wasn’t a bad person, she knew
this. Bad things just happened to her all the time. Still what had transpired between her and Brock wasn’t too bad. Or was it? She was on the brink of screaming—she hated the conflicting thoughts that filled her mind to the point of making her dizzy—when her cell phone rang.

  Thankful for the interruption, she stepped back from the door and retrieved the phone from her purse.

  “Hey, girl! How does it feel to finally be on the east coast?”

  The cheerful, high-pitched voice belonged to Noelle’s closest friend who was not related by blood or marriage, Karena Lakefield. They’d met when Karena was giving a lecture at the college on buying art through different media and interpreting quotes. As the buyer and director of sales for the reputed Lakefield Museum of New York Karena was top in her field. Noelle had been taking an art class and attended the lecture to broaden her horizons in that area because at the time Linc had wanted all the rooms of the Gramercy I spruced up with African-American art.

  After the class Noelle still had a few questions and Karena suggested they have lunch. From that point on they’d been instant friends, the cell phone being another of their closest companions since Karena lived in New York but traveled incessantly for her job.

  “It’s hot as hell,” Noelle chimed glibly, then sat on the edge of the bed.

  Karena chuckled. “Like it’s not hot in Vegas.”

  “You’ve got that right,” Noelle said as she smiled to herself. This is how it was with Karena, no matter what was bothering her, talking to Karena could always bolster her mood.

  “So how’s it going? I meant to call you last night but I got in late.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “I’m home, thank God.” Karena sighed. “This last trip was grueling. I’m telling you I’m going to need to train somebody to take over. I’m tired of all this running around.”

  “But you love your work.”

  “I love buying art, but I’m sick of traveling. I’d like to settle down in one place and just live for a while. I’m thinking of training Deena to do it.”

 

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