Silk Scarves and Seduction (8 page)

BOOK: Silk Scarves and Seduction
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When she did, the slow rush of blood to her cheeks charmed him, just as much now as it always had. Damn it, would he ever not adore her? Not likely. Her fingers twisted nervously in the cord of the glossy white phone as she met his eyes, her tongue darting out to lick her lips.

She had pulled on a robe. It was glossy white, like her kitchen, and almost sheer enough so that he could see the shadow of her nipples through it. As he watched, they stiffened and peaked, pressing tantalizingly against the silky fabric. He pushed away from the doorjamb, his eyes darkening with intent hunger.

Catching her around the waist, he took the phone and said into it gruffly, “Blush is preoccupied. She’ll have to talk to you later.” And hung it up.

Then he boosted her ass onto the island and caught one of those teasing nipples in his mouth, groaning hungrily. Reaching for the tie at her waist, he opened the robe and pulled her to the edge, tearing at the buttons of his jeans with his other hand. “Fuck you now,” he grunted as his cock sprang free. A glistening tear of pre-come glimmered on the end, hanging there for a second before dripping down the underside of his pulsating length.

“I wanted you in bed with me when I woke up,” he rasped, covering her mouth and pushing his tongue inside. He was so starved for her taste, so hungry.

A weak “sorry” fell from her lips when he let her mouth go to kiss a line down her neck as he pushed her thighs open, stroking her clit with the head of his cock before bending his knees, angling his hips and driving inside her.

The moment the hot, wet clasp of her pussy closed around his naked cock, he swore heatedly, shakily, but before he could even think about pulling out, she whispered, “Sweet heaven, Marc…that feels…amazing…” as she slid her thighs up and locked her ankles around his hips, just above his ass.

“Blush, damn it, baby, I’m not wearing a rubber,” he muttered, sweat beading his forehead. His cock pulsed and throbbed in the snug embrace of her cleft and he wanted to howl at the thought of pulling out and leaving this sweet haven.

Her eyes opened and she stared at him. “I’ve never been with a man without one,” she whispered huskily. “And…it’s the wrong time of the month for anything to happen. We should be okay.”

“Medically speaking,” he panted, looming over her, “that shouldn’t mean a damned thing. But hell—I’ve never felt anything this good in my life. And I haven’t fucked a woman without protection since my first time. I wouldn’t ever let anything bad happen to you, Blush.”

Skimming his hands over her thighs, he unhooked them, holding her legs wide and watching as he possessed her, his ruddied flesh spearing her naked folds, her cream gleaming wetly on his cock. The scent of her musk and his sex perfumed the air and the sounds of their breathing grew loud, his flesh driving into hers, his hips slamming into the cradle of her pussy, his balls slapping against the seam of her ass as he lifted her into his thrusts.

She was wet, silky and responsive—so perfect. Damn it, looking at her as she moved closer and closer to climax was too hot, too much a temptation. Tearing his eyes away from her body, he stared at the ceiling, the cords of his neck bulging as his head fell back, his hair hanging in damp waves around his face and neck.

It wasn’t much help. He could still hear her soft moans, the whimpered pleas.

And even more…that soft, unbelievably silken, wet clasp of her pussy on his cock as he pulled out and sank back into her, his balls swinging forward to slap against her ass.

Lifting her higher, he cupped her ass and spread the firm round cheeks, grinning in savage satisfaction as she gasped and bucked against him, her pussy clenching tight around him.

This was insane. This was wrong…this was…bliss. The creamy, snug heat of her sex fit around his cock like she had been made for him, and she sobbed out his name as he fucked his way back inside her. One slim hand slid up her body, cupping a pale breast, her fingers pinching her nipple, milking the berry-pink nipple while her other hand slid between her thighs, seeking her clit and stroking over it with quick, firm little circles.

“Hmmm…I like watching that,” Marc whispered, staring as she played with herself, her fingers starting to gleam wetly as she stroked her clit. “That one picture—it drove me over the edge.”

She smiled at him—a siren’s smile—Marc thought.

“You wanted to, didn’t you?” he asked, slowing his thrusts and watching as her eyes dimmed.

“Ummm…”

“Witch.” And then he bent over her body and started to slide his cock in, slowly…out…slowly…while she whimpered and stroked her clit and sobbed out his name.

His control broke and he slammed into her as she started to buck under him, and that wonderful little clutching in her sheath started, her body twisting. Her spine bowed and she started to come, the muscles in her thighs jerking and holding him tight within her as she started to work herself up and down against him, short, staccato screams falling from her lips as she milked his cock and tore his orgasm from him quicker than he had wanted to come.

He erupted inside her, flooding her in wave after wave of hot milky seed. He reared forward, planting his hands on the white marble beside her head, slamming his hips harder and harder, pistoning his cock into her spasming pussy.

It seemed to last forever, and when the little tremors from her pussy finally stopped drawing on his cock, he collapsed atop her, leaning down and resting his forehead against hers.

“So…who was on the phone?” he asked, once he could breathe again.

“Huh?”

“The phone? You know, the person I hung up on?” he reminded, standing and taking her body with him, turning and bracing his hips against the marble. It was still warm from her body, he noticed, stroking one hand up and down her back.

“Ummm…hmmm…Tessa. Tessa, I think,” she murmured. Lifting her head, she stared into his eyes and said, “This is kind of bizarre, you being here.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of a dream come true,” he said quietly, fisting his hand in her hair, reveling in the silky texture, the wild curls. “I have to be honest. I adore you.” He pressed his lips to hers and crooned, “Adore you, want you…you’ve been my weakness for years. Hiding it has been getting harder and harder.”

Her body went slack. “What?”

He laughed as he smoothed down her wild hair. “Your hearing going bad, baby? I adore you… I’m pretty sure I mentioned wanting to worship at your feet last night,” he whispered against her ear, catching the lobe in his teeth and tugging, the diamonds cold on his tongue. The scent of her filled his head, made him dizzy. “It’s harder than hell, feeling this way about a woman who thinks of you as an obnoxious jerk.”

“Aren’t all men obnoxious jerks?” she asked, her voice distracted. She pushed gently at his shoulder, licking her lips, a puzzled little line between her brows. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“As a heart attack,” he teased, reaching up and stroking that line between her brows, trying to hide his nervousness. She hadn’t said anything.

She wasn’t laughing—so that was a good sign.

But she wasn’t telling him anything either.

She moved away, her robe still hanging open. She smoothed her hands over her hair, tossing it out of her eyes as she moved around the kitchen, moved back. He could see the wet from their combined climaxes on her thighs and damned if the sight didn’t turn him on even more.

“It’s kind of funny, you know. I’ve had this nagging feeling for a while now, can’t stop thinking about you,” she said, a smile tilting up the corners of her lips. “You’re an annoying bastard to have in my head.”

He grinned, the relief that flooded him shooting straight to his head and almost making him dizzy. “My parents would resent that. They were married by the time I was born you know,” he drawled.

Chapter Eight

I’m sleeping with Marc Ford. No. We didn’t do too much sleeping.

Although the few hours she had spent wrapped in his arms had been the sweetest hours of sleep she could remember.

I’m having an affair with Marc Ford.

Well, technically, that didn’t work, did it? We just had one night of mind-blowing, dazzling sex.

And even that didn’t describe it. Affair sounded so…tawdry.

I’m fucking Marc Ford.
Well, that sounded hot, dirty and basic. But not quite…enough to describe it.

None of those phrases sounded real to her.

But she knew Tessa was going to ask.

She had been dodging her best friend all week, letting her voicemail pick up, calling Tessa’s voicemail when she knew Tessa was likely to be unable to answer. So when the summons came on Wednesday morning, she knew time was up.

Marc had spent two more nights with her.

Monday night he hadn’t been able to, but he had called from the hospital and she had heard the sounds of soft newborn squalls and had pretty much understood why, before he even explained. The grim tension in his voice told her more than what he had been able to say.

She hoped the baby made it. She felt her throat tighten as she thought of it.

She had seen his face once or twice, on her trips to the office, when something had gone wrong. And nothing she could say, nothing anybody could say would help heal that hurt.

But so many times, everything did go right.

That was how he was able to deal with it, she supposed. And the solemn look she’d seen in his eyes on Tuesday, she’d kissed, teased, and soothed away. Because he simply wouldn’t talk about it, so that was all she had been able to do.

En route to meet Tessa at the office, she rehearsed a million things in her head. Finally, she said aloud the only thing that felt right.

“I’m in love with him. I only hope he’s in love with me, too.”

Then she laughed derisively. “Damn it, that sounds so damned hokey.” As she stopped at a stoplight, she blew out a frustrated breath and wondered,
Do men really even believe in love anymore? Do they start out believing in love or do we have to train them?

Heaven knew she had hardly ever heard her dad tell her mom. Oh, she knew Dad had loved Mom, but he wasn’t very vocal with it. Caleb was—but Caleb was an anomaly in the world of men.

He had been from the beginning. After all, how many guys knew from childhood who they were going to marry? He had come back from the Navy injured, and set about getting back on his feet and going after her.

But by the time he was through with rehab, Tessa was engaged. But he didn’t just sit back and let it happen. He went about seducing her in the same way he had done everything else in his life, with calm, quiet assurance. A gift basket like none other Tessa or Valery had ever seen, and then letters and short stories.

By the time he had actually showed up, in silence, at night, Tessa had already been so head over heels with her secret admirer, the rest had been a fa it accompli. But Valery suspected part of Tessa had known all along that it had been Caleb.

Yeah, Caleb was an anomaly. Practically born loving Tessa. She sighed as she parked, wishing she had the kind of feelings for her own secret admirer that Tessa had for hers.

But even if the man sending her the steady gifts of body lotion appeared in front of her right now with a wedding ring and the new -megapixel Canon D camera, she’d just walk away. It would hurt, especially since that camera had a price in the five-thousand-dollar range.

But she’d take as many nights with Marc as she could get, instead of her ever-silent secret admirer any day.

Her belly was jumping as she climbed out of the car.

Marc wasn’t going to be here.

Tessa said he had a lunch meeting with a bunch of doctors and she had sent the office staff to a training seminar. Pressing her hand to her belly, she ordered the butterflies to fly away for the winter. Or the millennium. Then she strode into the office with much more confidence than she really felt.

Tessa greeted her in the waiting room, glancing up from straightening magazines and toys, a cool smile on her face. “So…are you done dodging me?”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly—”

“Oh, bullshit,” Tessa said succinctly. “I’ve figured out Marc’s part of it well enough, although he’s not telling me a damn thing either. Or Caleb. And I tried that route, too. I sicced Caleb on him. And Caleb can’t get a word out of him. So I’m down to you. So…what’s up?”

Valery watched as Tessa settled down in a chair, crossed one silk-covered leg over the other and stared at her, her eyes patiently waiting. Valery knew she wasn’t planning on going anywhere until she had some answers.

But Valery didn’t have a bloody clue as to what was going on. Except that Marc had somehow figured out she was the one who had sent him the pictures, and he wanted her.

And even more bizarre…he had wanted her for a while.

A tiny smile canted up the corners of her mouth, and try as she might, she couldn’t wipe that smug smile off her face.

“Hell, can’t two adults have sex without there being a story behind it, Tessa?” she asked, moving her shoulders restlessly as her gaze roamed the room, darting from one place to another, landing everywhere but Tessa’s face.

“Sure. But you’ve been in love with Marc all your life. And I happen to know he has feelings for you, and always has. So when it comes to you and him…no. That doesn’t work,” Tessa answered simply. “Do better.”

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