Hot for Pepper (6 page)

“Don’t.” He shook his head. “Stay there. Don’t move.”

He straightened fully, not touching her, and began a slow, thorough examination. Her blush followed his gaze as it traveled from her eyes to her mouth to her breasts.

Pepper self-consciously fingered the lace edge of her bra and ignored his command to silence. “Do you want me to take this off?”

He shook his head. “I can see your nipples through the cloth. I like you in white. Makes me feel like I’m the first man who’s been here.”

Her breath hitched, stumbled over a confession. Mitch’s examination moved and she swallowed the words. Maybe if she’d thought to say something earlier. Maybe if she weren’t so mortified by his effect on her life. But she was and she bit her tongue.

“I love your freckles.” He feathered a circle around her navel. “I love the way they’re everywhere.”

His touch ghosted across her hipbone, trailed to her inner thigh. Pepper curled her toes hard against the hood, tried to hold still as he peeled away every private barrier.

“I really love that you haven’t stripped your pussy bare.” He paused his exploration to play in the damp curls.

She closed her eyes tight, unable to keep watching him watch her. In the pretense of dark, she found some of the power he claimed she possessed. Lifting toward him, she presented wet, eager flesh for his attention. “Touch me more.”

Mitch muttered a curse but his fingers slid between her folds. Gentle despite her insistent squirming, he grasped her right knee and pinned her thigh to the hood. Forced her to back down.

“You are the most gorgeous woman.” He traced her leg from her knee to the seam of her pelvis and let her go. “Hold still.”

Mitch didn’t touch her for long seconds. Restless, eyes still closed tight, she covered her breasts with both hands. The tight peaks pressed into her palms with every shallow breath.

“Hell.” Something small, heavy and warm landed on her stomach.

The hiss of Mitch’s zipper popped her eyes open. She lifted her head, stared wild-eyed down the length of her body. Past her stomach—past the heavy square of his wallet resting above her navel—Mitch stood between her splayed legs. Unrolling a condom.

“I wanted to taste you,” he said, sheathed hardness in hand. “I wanted to make you come on my tongue. But I can’t wait. Do you want me to wait?”

Pepper forced herself to breathe. Rising on her elbows, she tore her gaze away from the stiff, thick length jutting from the open fly of his jeans. She met his eyes, took in the strained line of his lips. Exhaled and shook her head. “No. I don’t want you to wait.”

“Good.” He moved between her legs. The car sank an inch under his weight as he came to his knee on the front bumper and positioned himself.

“Bed next time,” she gasped, suddenly feeling the pressure of his crown against her entrance. Suddenly feeling the lack of anything to hold onto.

Mitch jerked a nod but didn’t look away from their joining. He clutched her hip with one hand, held her spread open with the other. His cheekbones flushed red the instant before he flexed his hips and speared inside.

Pepper cried out, unsure whether she reacted to the pleasure or the pain.

Mitch froze and looked up to find her eyes. “Pepper?”

She shook her head, reached for him. “Kiss me.”

He hesitated but came when she reached for him. Pepper latched on to the distraction of his tongue tangling with hers. Kissing, she had some control over. The rest—he cupped her hips and held her down while he withdrew. Lifted her to meet his next deep surge. Somewhere up on the freeway, sirens approached and sped away.

Pepper moaned into his mouth, unable to silence her response to the fullness and friction of him moving inside her. Soon he found a rhythm and she tried to imitate it with her tongue. Hard fingers tangled in her hair, angled her head. Mitch broke the kiss. His lips tracked a path beneath her chin. Lower. He flicked his tongue across her nipples, one and the other, until her back arched and she grasped his head to hold him in place. An increasingly more familiar tingle began to build, stemming from the sting of his teeth through wet satin.

“Mitch.” His name emerged as a high gasp. Pepper twisted beneath him, dragged her inner thighs up his ribs and crossed her ankles behind his back. Trying to become part of him.

He braced his forehead against her breastbone and worked his hand between them.

“No,” she moaned, scratching his forearm. “You’re getting in the way.”

“Trust me, Pepper.” He raised his head and kissed her. Pleasure shot down her thighs. Being so close—that didn’t matter anymore. Deep inside, he struck a spot even sweeter than the trigger he’d found in her nipples. Her inner muscles spasmed over and over again and she stopped breathing when his fingers slid over her clitoris.

Mitch froze with her, his cock buried deep. The teeth of his zipper nipped at her skin, a sharp accompaniment to the sweet bliss of orgasm.

“That’s it,” he muttered above her. “That’s what I want.”

Something that resembled pain crossed his features. He withdrew once, buried himself deep, and shuddered. She felt one heavy pulse, watched as the tight line of his mouth relaxed. And smiled.

5

Mitch kissed Pepper’s freckled shoulder and withdrew from her still-fluttering grip as gently as he could. Mentally bracing himself, he checked the length of his condom. His jaw clenched. Pink traces of blood glistened on the latex. That flinch when he’d pushed inside—fuck.

She’d been a virgin.

Pepper stretched and breathed a satisfied sigh. Mitch tucked his evidence into a pocket along with the wrapper. By the time he righted his clothes, she’d combed her fingers through her hair and scooted to perch on the edge of the car’s hood.

“Could you, um…do you know where my clothes are?” She pressed her thighs together, finding some modesty in her nakedness.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Stay there. I’ll get your things.”

In his impatience, he’d left her clothes scattered on the ground beside the car. He shook leaves and dirt from each garment before returning to her.

Pepper observed him with alert, wary eyes. “What’s wrong?”

He pulled her panties from the bundle and offered the satin scrap.

Biting her lip, she ignored the triangle. “Mitch? What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing, sweetheart.” Guilt ate at him—for the lie, for his careless treatment of her. He dropped her clothes on her lap and blew out a breath. “I wish you’d told me. You let me hurt you.”

Her fair skin hid nothing. Cheeks red, she lowered her eyes and scrambled into her clothes, so obvious about her discomfort that he clasped his hands behind his head and turned away.

“I wasn’t trying to lie to you,” she said behind him. “I just—I didn’t think of it. I wanted you to touch me and you were there, touching me. By the time I realized it mattered to you…”

Her words trailed off. Mitch half turned toward her, found her at his elbow. A deep frown drew her russet brows together.

“I didn’t want you to stop. You would have stopped, wouldn’t you?” She crossed her arms beneath her breasts.

“Yeah,” he said. “I would have stopped. You should’ve had more. I should’ve given you more.”

She pressed her lips together and lifted her chin. “So give me more the next time. But I admit, I don’t know what else you could have done.”

“Yeah?” He plucked a leaf from her hair. “Your imagination needs some work.”

She quirked a smile at him. “I’m always open to expanding my education.”

“I’m a tough teacher. I believe in classroom spankings.” Twining her hair around his fingers, he drew her forward until her breasts pillowed against his chest. “My men all bitch about me behind my back.”

She chuckled. “You’re probably just not their type.”

“What about you?” He thumbed her chin, tipped her head back and met her eyes. They were already darkening with new arousal.

“I promise not to bitch behind your back,” she said.

“Because I’m your type?”

Pepper nodded and relief lifted a weight he hadn’t realized he carried. She was it for him. He hadn’t dared consider the possibility he might leave her cold.

“Mitch?” She touched his jaw. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, sweetheart.” This time, he meant it.

Mitch closed Pepper’s door quietly, unwilling to disturb her sleep or draw attention to his exit from her bedroom. As he turned, Carlton rounded the corner at the far end of the hall. The older man’s stride didn’t falter. He noted Pepper’s door and Mitch’s proximity with a lift of one gray eyebrow.

“My boy,” Carlton said by way of greeting. “You can’t expect a lady to be awake at this hour.”

The corner of Mitch’s lips kicked up in a grin for the old man. “Not a lady under your roof, anyway.”

“They need their rest. Leisure keeps them beautiful.” Carlton winked. “And if I’m going to have them around, I want them beautiful.”

Carlton came abreast, clapped Mitch on the back, and drew him into a brief, fierce embrace before stepping back. “It is good to see you. I’m glad you accepted Pepper’s invitation. Candace?”

“She sends her regards and regrets.” Mitch turned his back on Pepper’s door but the gesture didn’t mean anything. He’d read a deal of understanding in Carlton’s first assessing look.

The understanding he expected. Carlton Eaves was a shrewd man who’d long ago figured out Mitch’s un-brotherly attraction to Pepper. Carlton was also the “something” Pepper had guessed at on Kelly’s sofa. About two months earlier, Carlton told Mitch he needed to act or give up on the idea of ever having her. Mitch hadn’t asked why. He’d taken Carlton’s warning at face value, had decided he’d never manage to give up that idea. Not after so many years of trying and failing.

“Tell her I miss her when you talk next,” Carlton said. He clasped Mitch’s shoulder. “I’m teeing off in forty-five minutes. Get cleaned up and meet me downstairs. I deserve a day with my sons.”

The day had warmed to full heat by the time Mitch, Andrew and Carlton finished their eighteenth hole. Carlton left Mitch and Andrew in the club bar while he said hello to the other members of his club.

Mitch welcomed the drink but not the company. As soon as Carlton walked away, Andrew broached the subject of Pepper.

“You shouldn’t have indulged her last night. She needs to leave people to their own lives. And Kelly’s apartment isn’t safe.” Andrew glowered into his scotch.

Mitch swallowed a long pull from his beer. “What she needs is permission to be an adult and make some choices of her own. You can’t hide her away from the realities of the world.”

The other man swiveled to face him. “You don’t know her. She’s sheltered. Naïve. And she’s afraid of you. She always has been. She saw us that night. Did you know her biological father used his fists?”

“I don’t hit,” Mitch said flatly.

Andrew stroked the crooked bridge of his nose. “Yeah.”

Mitch pushed his beer aside and looked the other man in the eye. “You deserved that. I don’t do men and you shoved your tongue in my mouth.”

His stepbrother nodded. “You’re right. I did. But ‘not interested’ would have been just as effective.”

Mitch shrugged. Maybe Andrew was right. He’d reacted out of fear and shock and instinct to prove his sexuality. The knowledge that Pepper had witnessed his weakness and feared him because of it soured his stomach.

“She doesn’t have any reason to fear me.” Mitch stood and left cash on the bar.

“Really? Because if you’d cornered me alone and out of earshot of anyone else so you could put your hands on me, I’d be afraid.”

“Andrew,” Carlton said from behind Mitch. “Best you don’t concern yourself anymore with Pepper’s affairs. Now I have an appointment with Bristol Rose. Have the pair of you finished your drinks?”

That afternoon, Pepper avoided all the men in her family by sticking to the service areas of the big house. Evading Carlton, Mitch and Andrew wasn’t as much of a challenge as it could have been and fortunately, she had a reason to cling to the kitchens. At nine o’clock that night, Hallsford would receive three hundred guests to celebrate Carlton’s sixty-eighth birthday…and the announcement of his engagement to his sixth wife. Hallsford’s regular staff ran circles around the extra help hired for the event and Pepper hid in the midst of chaos.

She hid upright in heels, because as much as she wanted to find some dark corner, she had a responsibility. She also had difficulty focusing on it. Too easily, her mind kept wandering back to the memory of Mitch in her room that morning, his masculine figure out of place beside the periwinkle upholstery of her vanity bench and the bluebell print of her wallpaper.

Little girl trappings, but she wasn’t a little girl anymore. She didn’t want to be.

At least she had the kitchen. The rose-marble countertops didn’t remind her of anything except excellent meals and she didn’t see anything but her own fully clothed, in-control reflection in the polished shine of the upright freezer. As long as she didn’t think about what she wasn’t wearing beneath her skirt, she maintained a firm grip on her composure.

Squaring her shoulders, she sidestepped Carlton’s wild-eyed chef and caught the head server’s eye. “Can we talk about the order of hors d’oeuvre distribution?”

The young woman’s lips pinched together before she said, “The future Mrs. Eaves was already in this morning with explicit instructions.”

Pepper suppressed a cringe. “Let me know if you have any questions about her specifications.”

The harried woman jerked a nod and returned to her work.

With nothing left to do in the kitchen besides dodge the increasingly frantic staff, Pepper took her leave. In the corridor, she sidestepped a team of florists carting arrangements from the service entrance to the ballroom. Down the hall, a familiar pair of broad shoulders caught her eye.

Mitch leaned casually against the wall beside a closet door. The staircase swept up behind him. Remembering his words and the bare curve of her bottom under her skirt, she drew a deep breath and walked toward him. Something about his nonchalant pose, the close fit of his black t-shirt, really did it for her. Damp heat blossomed between her thighs by the time she reached him.

“You have some free time?” Instead of reaching for her, he tapped the closet’s knob.

Pepper moistened her lips, tasted the remnants of the gloss she’d slicked on that morning. “I’m mostly in the way right now. Everybody knows what to do.”

He straightened away from the wall. “Will you spend some of it with me?”

Pulse quickening, she nodded. Mitch opened the closet door and stood aside, leaving her to enter first. As she stepped past him, the soap-scent of his skin gave way to the aroma of faded pine and dust. She spotted the glitter of last year’s garland before Mitch came in behind her and closed the door. With the door sealed, the closet was blindingly dark.

His arms slid around her waist and he tugged her backward. “I need to know something,” he said.

The serious edge to his voice creased her brow. Pepper placed her hands over his and traced the ridge of his knuckles. She forced herself to nod. “Tell me?”

“You tell me.” His heart thudded steadily between her shoulder blades. “Tell me the truth. Are you afraid of me?”

Oh. She didn’t want to answer that question. Pepper tucked her chin to her chest. “I don’t want to be.”

“But you are.”

She swallowed. Grown women didn’t avoid things like this. “The way you look at me makes me nervous. Your eyes sometimes make me feel like you hate me. Other times, they make me feel like you want to do things.”

“Hate is not an emotion I feel for you.” He loosened his hold and spread his fingers over her breast. “Things…yeah, I want to do things to you.”

She pressed her thighs together, nursing a heavy beat of want. “For how long?”

“How long have I wanted to or how long do I want to?”

“Both,” she whispered.

“For a long time.” He thumbed the top button of her blouse and kissed the upper curve of her ear. “Are you afraid of me right now?”

“No,” she said clearly. “Not for any reason.”

“Good. I’d never do anything to hurt you.” The hand at her stomach slid lower, guided her buttocks into the cup of his groin. He was already hard for her.

“I know,” she whispered, aware the only pain she’d suffered at his hands resulted from her own silence.

His chest expanded behind her and relaxed on a sigh. “You’re not wearing panties.”

“You told me not to.”

“Yeah, well. That was before I knew how much you deserve the candles-and-massage experience. Rose petals. Some damn restraint on my part.” His fingertips traced the line where her panties should have been. “Right now I’m having a hell of a time convincing myself to let you go.”

“So don’t. Touch me instead.” Pretty as his ideas were, she preferred the reality of him, big and hard behind her. Soon, inside her.

Blind in the dark, she wrapped her fingers around his wrist and guided his hand down the front of her skirt. “Will you put your fingers inside me again?”

Mitch groaned into her hair. “Your mouth should be illegal.”

She released him and tugged at her skirt, inching the hem to her hips. “Please. Will you?”

“Maybe. Depends.” He covered her mound and squeezed, delivering a jolt of unexpected pleasure. “If I put my fingers inside you, will you let me watch while you finger yourself later?”

“You want to watch me?” She blinked in the dark.

“Fuck yes. Watch you and stroke myself and come all over your sticky fingers when you’re done.”

Too heavy for her neck, her head lolled back against his shoulder. Mitch closed his teeth around a tendon in her throat and she shuddered in his arms. The same blunt language that shocked her less than twenty-four hours earlier thrilled her now.

“Okay,” she breathed raggedly. “Yes. I’ll let you watch. Just please touch me now.”

Mitch responded by stroking one fingertip down the seam of her labia. Her hips twisted, bucked toward him. She clung to his wrist as he flicked her clitoris with the pad of his thumb and teased her entrance.