Fistful of Roses (What a Woman Wants, Book 1) (19 page)

BOOK: Fistful of Roses (What a Woman Wants, Book 1)
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The wind picked up and she struggled to stay upright. He advanced another few steps. She backed away.

“What happened to your whole ‘discretion versus valor’ argument?” he asked, arms crossed over that gorgeous chest, legs apart and braced for battle.

She shook her head. “There are varying shades of discretion,” she informed him haughtily.

She blinked, and he was right in front of her.
How the hell did he move so fast?
She felt his heat but tightened her hand around what she held.

“Really?”

“Oh, absolutely. There’s the retreat discretion. The run and hide discretion. Then there’s my kind of discretion,” she taunted.

He leaned down.
Just a little more and…

She pelted him, in the face no less, with more snow and then took off running. She thought she heard him grunt, but she was so busy trying not to bust her ass she couldn’t be sure. She headed into the trees, the wind tearing at his coat; her feet, encased in wet socks, were almost frozen solid.

But her heart accelerated and joy infused her soul. He’d made her laugh. Life was meant to be this.

She stopped, and stillness surrounded her. The wind softened, but tiny flurries continued to fall. No birds, no crunch of feet on the snow. She turned in a circle slowly. She made it all the way back around, could see the outline of the cabin beyond the trees, and his voice rocketed through her.

“Exactly what
discretion
was that?” Guttural, dangerous, and oh-so-tempting to her inner hussy. She barely resisted leaning back into him.

“Um, that would be the ‘Imma throw a snowball all up in your grill’ discretion,” she said with a strangled laugh. “And it looks like my work here is done,” she tossed out as she took off running again.

She made it … absolutely nowhere. He’d grabbed her by the back of the coat, and she couldn’t budge. He pulled her against him, and her eyes closed. Damn he was potent.

“I’m thinking that your work here has just begun,” he whispered against her neck, his tongue flicking out to tickle her earlobe. She inhaled sharply.

“Well, you
are
kinda the boss of me,” she retorted breathlessly.

His chest rose and fell at her back. He made a sound like he was choking before he cut it off and said in a guttural voice, “Yes, I am. Try not to forget it.”

Oh, man, she’d only thought her panties were wet. Soaked completely through was more like it.

“And since I’m the boss, you’re going to do exactly what I say, Ms. Hanson.” He pushed her forward.

Confusion swept through her as he angled her toward a gigantic oak tree. He reached around her, collared her wrists, and then placed her hands against the dark black bark. The tree was cold. Her feet were cold. But her back and insides?

On. Fire.

“Leave your hands there.” His husky voice sent shivers through her.

She didn’t answer; couldn’t answer.

“I’m going to use a bit of discretion of my own now, Ms. Hanson,” he whispered at her ear. It was loud in the silence of the woods around them.

The hush during a snowfall was absolute. His voice filled it even though it was quiet. Her nails dug into the bark.

“Wha—what discretion is that?” she forced out between one strangled breath and the next.

“The ‘Imma get all up in
you
’ discretion, Ms. Hanson. Similar to your ‘Imma throw a snowball all up in your grill’ discretion, but I’m going to use my cock, and it will be all up in your hot, wet heat. While I’ve utilized this discretion before, I’ve yet to do it from behind while standing.” A long silence, broken by the sound of her labored breathing. “I’m about to remedy that,” he finished as he pulled the coat off her shoulders and laid it at her feet.

“I said, don’t move your hands,” he said in a hard voice. Her heart stuttered, tripped a few beats, and then kicked into a heavy rhythm. “Now step onto my coat. I know your feet are freezing, and we may be here a while.” There was a glint in his blue eyes that reminded her of ice lit by flame.

She complied, and he stood and went still behind her. Long seconds passed, but the cold was beyond her. There was nothing but heat between them. She couldn’t imagine she’d ever feel cold again.

“You are so lovely, Ms. Hanson.” He touched her then, and she sighed. He stroked over her hair, across her shoulders, and down her sides, lifting the hem of his sweatshirt and lightly moving over her skin.

She shivered, and her head dropped between her outstretched arms. Words stuck in her throat.

He moved to the waist of the sweats she wore and lightly, torturously, pulled them down until her bare ass was exposed. He was close behind her now, breath ruffling the hair at her nape. “You have a beautiful ass, Ms. Hanson. It gives me wicked thoughts.”

She shuddered again as his hands dipped between the crease of her buttocks and ran the length until he found her pussy. He spread her nether lips, rubbed slowly against her opening, and then gave a glancing stroke to her clit.

“Ohhh,” she moaned.

Ryan pulled away and pushed her pants all the way down, lifting one of her feet so she could step out. “Do you hear that, Ms. Hanson?”

She gazed down at him over her shoulder, a question on her lips until she saw that he was on his knees, staring at her ass. His eyes lifted, molten, the heat so intense she felt singed.

“Hear what?” she asked breathlessly. They were alone in these woods—the only sound that of an occasional bird or a limb snapping under the growing weight of the falling snow.

“The angels weeping,” he responded. “You have the most perfect ass I’ve ever seen.”

She turned back to the tree and locked her knees. If he kept talking to her that way, she’d come before he ever got inside her. She didn’t want that. She wanted him “all up in her” as he’d promised, his thick length tunneling inside her until she couldn’t see straight.

“You’re killing me,” she whispered.

“I want to complete you, Ms. Hanson,” he replied. “But first I must use discretion. Tell me, love, are you sore?”

“No.” Her heart tripped and splintered at his feet.

He stood, and she felt him moving, anticipation singing through her. He grabbed her hips and angled them back. “Spread your legs,” he said into the space between her neck and shoulder. He licked across the flesh, the warmth of his tongue pebbling her nipples under the sweatshirt. She wanted to rub them, ease the sting of need there. She spread her legs, and then her body came into contact with his iron-hard dick, and she whimpered.

“Please,” she groaned as her elbows bent, and she rested her forehead against the tree.

“It’s so cold, here in these woods,” he murmured as he placed his cock at her entrance and held there. “But here, at the edge of heaven,” he nudged her core and slid the tip in, “it’s so fucking hot.” He pushed into her, hard, bringing them together.

She gasped, the sensation of him being so fully seated inside her stunning to her senses.

“Now, Ms. Hanson, I’m going to fuck you. We’ll call it ‘blind’ discretion. Hang on,” he said in a dark voice.

And so it began. Long, smooth strokes and hard, short strokes, he pushed into her over and over, her body willingly accepting his and begging for more. She gasped and he moaned. He reached around, hands holding on to her breasts under the sweatshirt, and he held her still as he plundered her sheath again and again.

Her head fell back and she looked up into a white-gray sky, clouds puffy with more snow. Flakes fell on her face, melted from the heat between them. She licked her lips, the taste on them crisp and new. Her abdomen tightened as heat spiraled and centered low. Her body wept, tingled.

“Are you close, Ms. Hanson?” he whispered on a deliciously gentle glide through her clenching internal muscles.

“Say my name,” she pleaded. She needed her name on his lips, needed the affirmation.

Everything faded, the cold, the snow, the fact that they were outside. Only the feel of his body invading hers permeated her conscience. His smell wrapped around her. His heat lit her up. And his cock took her to a place she’d never been before. She’d never imagined such ecstasy existed, but here in the frozen woods, she’d found it with him.

He growled at her command, pushed in so deep she lifted to her tiptoes. “Please!” she screamed.

“Are you close,
Sophie
?” He pressed deep again and rotated his hips as he pulled her up and back.

She lost it. Her body clamped down on his cock, and she rocked against him, splinters of brilliant heat and light breaking through her, tearing her apart and putting her back together again.

He released a harsh breath. “So good, so good, so good,” he chanted as his cock contracted deep within her and warmth bathed her insides.

Reality was slow to set in, but eventually the cold tickled her bottom. She tried to move her hands, found them nearly frozen against the bark.

His covered hers, and he spoke at her ear. “I love you, Sophie Hanson. I never thought to have this, but I love you.”

She felt his declaration in the marrow of her bones. His words completed her heart’s slide. He did own her, body and heart.

“And I love you.”

He hugged her hard and then hissed in a breath as he pulled from her. Her body didn’t want to let go. Hell, it never wanted to let go, but he pulled her sweats up, adjusted his own pants, and lifted her into his arms.

“I’ve got to get you warm.” He hurried to the cabin.

“I’m warm where it counts,” she responded and laid her head on his shoulder.

Peace stole through her, and between one blink and the next, she fell asleep.

Chapter 16

“Call on line three, Ms. Hanson,” the switchboard operator’s monotone voice called over the intercom.

“Thank you,” Sophie said around her pencil.

She’d been going over this damn contract for four hours and still had no idea what the hell it was about or what the other party wanted. Nope, her mind was still fully in this past weekend.

The phone beeped. She rolled her eyes and shoulders and then took the pencil out of her mouth.

She grabbed the handset. “This is Sophie.”

“I need help, Sophia.”

Fear shot through her. “We’ve had this conversation, Gavin. The answer is the same: no.”

“Sophia, he’s coming after me hard. I had to give him the information I got from you—” Her brother’s voice faded, and she heard what she thought was a grunt of pain. “I need money real bad, and they needed the information,” he finished and coughed.

“What are you talking about, Gavin? Gave them what?”

“I took some information from your computer last week. You shouldn’t leave your key under the mat, Sophie.” Gavin grunted again.

She went cold. “What have you done, Gavin?” If he’d taken information from her computer, what had he taken? And who had he taken it for? Something niggled at her memory, but fear sliced through it. Panic took hold. The last time her brother had dragged her into something, she’d been left broken. He was so very manipulative, though, and this was probably an attempt to push her into doing something she’d refused him. She took a deep breath, tried to calm her nerves. “You don’t have anything. You’re just trying to get me upset. I can’t do this, Gavin. Please don’t call me again.” Sophie gently hung up the phone.

Tears welled in her eyes and it was her dumb luck that Ryan picked that moment to walk into her office.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded as he came behind her desk and grabbed her up, settling himself in her chair and her in his lap.

She sank into him, uncaring if anyone saw them. She needed his strength. Gavin screwed her up every time. “Nothing, I’m good, just had something in my eye.” She wiped a tear away.

“You’re a horrible liar. Now tell me who that was on the phone,” he demanded again, but this time he kissed her forehead to ease the sting of his demand.

“It was my brother.” She sighed heavily, lowered her gaze. “I’m just a little emotional. I had a helluva weekend, and I guess, for just a second, the last couple of weeks smothered me.” She tried to laugh it off, but worry was a rock in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t want to delve too deeply into why she wasn’t telling him details about her brother’s claims.

He was quiet for a few moments as he settled his chin on her head. “Is he bothering you? Before today has he contacted you since I tossed his ass out of your house?”

“No, but we aren’t very close anymore. He only calls when he needs something.” She shrugged.

“Families are crazy, this I know. Listen, are you okay? You’ve gone through a lot the last two weeks. I did what I did, your mother passed away, and then I forced you to deal with our situation. I should have given you this week off.”

She shook her head. “No way. This is my job, and I had last week off. I’ve made peace with Mama. It still hurts, but I imagine that will always be there to some degree. I picked up the phone earlier to check on her at the hospital and then realized there was no reason for that anymore. It’ll take time to come to grips with, but I’m going to be fine.” She glanced up at him, found his blue eyes pinning her. She pushed Gavin to the back of her mind. Whatever he was involved in, she couldn’t dwell on it. Hopefully he wouldn’t bring trouble to her door. “And this weekend was amazing. I should be on cloud nine, but maybe I’m just trying to find my balance.”

Ryan lowered his head. “I’m here for you, Sophie,” he said against her lips.

“Well what do we have here?” A man’s booming voice interrupted what had promised to be a very pleasing interlude.

“Go away, Hayden,” Ryan said without looking away from her.

Sophie grimaced. The last time she’d seen Mr. Bent, he’d been warning her against a possible relationship with Ryan.

Oy vey.

“Somebody’s gotta damn work around here,” Mr. Bent grumbled.

“Would you like a little cheese to go with that whine?” Ryan turned a baleful stare at his business partner.

The other man glanced at her, and a look passed over his face that Sophie could only describe as disgust. Dread tunneled into her stomach.

Ryan seemed to notice the look as well and gently got up, placing her back in her chair.

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