Voyeur (22 page)

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Authors: Lacey Alexander

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cabinet, snowflake?" Then he expertly flipped an egg in the skil et.

"Sure," she murmured, fal ing a little more in love with him. He was her perfect lover, she thought, standing there staring at his flannel-clad back. He pushed and persuaded her past her normal boundaries to bring her unfathomable pleasure—and yet, at the same time, he was so easy to be with,

like right now. Her perfect man. And she was leaving him in a few short days.

"Plates?" he asked.

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry." She scurried to get them, then watched as he plopped flawless eggs onto each just as four muffin halves popped from the

toaster.

She rushed to grab her winter jacket from the foyer closet and a moment later, they were sitting down at a wooden picnic table built into the deck.

Although the sun had already dried away most of the wetness left by the now, she noticed Braden had brought out thick towels for them to sit on.

"This is nice,”
she said, smiling over at him as she forked up a bite of her eggs. To her surprise, the sun was so bright that it made the cold manageable, more brisk and refreshing than bitter. The view of snow-covered mountains as far as the eye could see was gorgeous, maybe even

more than usual because she could feel the mountain air and see just how far the expanse of blue stretched overhead.

It was as if he read her mind. "Nothing like a clear Colorado morning."

"How did you come to buy a house here anyway?"

"I used to take ski trips to the area with friends back in col ege. Over time, I fel in love with the place—and with the stark contrast from L.A.—so when I had enough money for a second home, Vail seemed a natural choice."

“I’m .. . glad you made that choice," she ventured, a bit timidly. "If you hadn't, I would never have met you, never have had this time with you."

"Good point," he said, chin perched in his fist, elbow balanced on the table. “I’m glad I made that choice, too, snowflake."

For some reason, it was a sobering moment for Laura. Because as sweet as he was being, she knew it meant more to her than to him. He didn't

say it—nor did his voice or his eyes—it was just something she knew inherently. He was a man of the world, a man who took lovers, had affairs. It

had
to mean more to her than to him, was undoubtedly more of an unprecedented event in her life—something
life altering,
in fact, she had to admit.

Not so for him.

Just take it for what it is. Soak it up. Enjoy the sex. Enjoy him.

And try not to worry that this span of time with him will be the defining period of your entire life. Try not to worry that it will never be this good, this
utterly
grand,
again.

"You were right," she said, ready to return to a normal, easy topic. "It's good to get out in the sun for a little while."

He nodded, a sexy yet superior look gracing his face. "The
smart
little snowflake would take a
bigger
break, let me take her skiing. Or we could drive over to Breckenridge. Cute little ski town with lots of cafes and shops you'd probably like."

Tempting, oh so tempting. But . . . "No, the smart little snowflake has a book to finish. So as nice as this breakfast is, I have to go back inside and get to work soon."

He let out a groan of frustration. "You know, honey, I'm about as much of a workaholic as there is, but even
I
know it's wise to take a break and refuel every now and then."

She gave her head a knowing tilt. "And I'm wil ing to bet that if you had some big deal on the table right now that was time-sensitive, you'd be

working at it night and day until it was done instead of wanting to play in the snow."

He lowered his chin, narrowed his gaze on her, and let out a sigh. "Point taken." Then, popping the last bite of a buttery English muffin into his mouth, he wiped his hands on a napkin and pushed to his feet. "Before you go, though ..."

"What?"

"Stand up."

She flashed a speculative look in his direction, thinking his expression had just shifted to a darker and oh-so-familiar one, even beneath the bright

morning sun. "Why?"

Without answering, he rounded the table and took her hand, leading her across the large deck until she faced that same striking view of Vail and

beyond. He stood behind her, hands pushing up under her coat to close warm on her hips. He leaned into her from behind, and even through the

jacket, she could feel his hard-on. "Thought I'd give you a little morning treat before you go inside," he breathed near her ear.

She looked over her shoulder into seductive brown eyes, offering her sexiest grin. "One problem—
that's
not little." He returned the smile. "Your fault." "I guess you should make me pay then."

He leaned closer, pul ing back her messy hair to lower a kiss to her neck. "I intend to."

As Braden’s hands gently began to push down her pants, just over her ass, the brisk air hit her and her pussy trembled with a mixture of sensations.

She reflected on the fact That she stood on a snowy mountainside, her private parts exposed. She thought of Stan and Candy, and of Tommy, and

of al those eyes she'd envisioned upon them in the dark the other night. She drew in her breath as Braden's warm middle finger stroked into her,

pleasure echoing through her from the touch.

"You realize," she breathed, voice gone thready this quickly, "That someone somewhere could be watching us right now." She could see neither Tommy's house up above or Stan and Candy's below from this angle, but the sudden "appearance" of Stan's house through the trees yesterday

had proven Braden's place wasn't truly as isolated as it felt.

His voice warmed her ear. "Unlikely—but possible."

"Is that why we're doing this?" she asked. "Because someone could see us?" Behind her, she was aware of him unzipping his jeans just before she felt his hard cock press warm into the center of her ass, flesh to flesh, his arms closing around her. She shivered—not from the cold, but the heat.

"You liked the idea That someone could see us the other night," he reminded her.

"I think I was drunk," she admitted quietly.

He laughed softly. "That had nothing to do with it." Lowering his grasp back to her hip, he slowly slid his whole length into her, making her gasp at the sudden ful ness. "Because you like the idea right now, too."

And as he began to move in her, and as she began to meet his slow, firm strokes, her hands clamping to the railing for support as she arched her

ass toward him, she couldn't deny it. The knowledge that somewhere, hidden within the trees, someone could be watching them, watching her take

his cock, watching the passion etch itself across both their faces, added to her excitement. The brisk winter air al around them, the realization that they were outside, doing it on the slope of a snowy mountain like two animals—just part of nature—exhilarated her.

He said nothing more as he thrust deep into her—only their hot moans fil ed the silence—and she knew they both understood that his last words

had been true. She liked the notion of being watched. He'd taught her to. He felt it
with
her. And it enhanced every hard drive of his length into her softness until final y he said, "God, baby, I'm gonna come," then fil ed her in a whole different way.

A moment later, stil inside her with his arms wrapped warm around her waist, he said something she'd never imagined Braden Stone would say. "I

fucked up."

She turned her head to look at him. "What?"

Uncharacteristic guilt shrouded his face. "I didn't give you an orgasm."

She blinked, then smiled. "Believe it or not, I'm not in it just for the orgasm."

He looked at her as if she'd just announced she was from Mars.

"Seriously," she said. "Don't get me wrong, I love 'em—but I don't have to have them every time. It feels good enough just to have your perfect cock in me, just to have you fuck me so thoroughly."

Withdrawing, he turned her in his arms, his eyes lighting with what looked like awe. "Have I mentioned that you're incredible?" He kissed her forehead, and she feared she might crumble beneath the weight of the emotion that fil ed her.

Stop. Don't feel this. Don’t let yourself. Only madness that way lies.

But instead of answering him, of coming up with some flip remark that would ease the tension in her heart, she simply responded by kissing him,

another of those soul-searing kisses that they'd shared from the beginning, those kisses that were almost as good as sex itself.

"Mmm," he sighed when it ended, their foreheads pressed together. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make me crazy with just a kiss. Al the stuff we’ve done, and stil your kisses make me feel like I'm sixteen."

It was like a starburst inside her to know he felt it, too—al the magic, al that power, just from a kiss. She lifted her mouth back to him wishing she could tel him everything she felt, how much she'd loved his kisses from the very first moment he'd climbed into bed with her, how changed and new

he made her feel. But she stopped herself—again and just teased him. "Guess I'm just that good."

He chuckled softly. "That you are, snowflake."

Then he began looking around them, at the mantle of white across the backyard and the hil side below.

Laura peeked over her shoulder, in case there was something she was missing, but saw only the glitter of the sun on the pristine, untouched snow.

"Since we’re out here," he said, "why
don’t
we play in the snow for a little while?"

She laughed, thinking he was getting relentless about keeping her from her work. "Define play."

He tilted his head, looking deadly serious. "I build a kil er snowman."

Laura smiled. She hadn't made a snowman since she was a young girl. As simple as it sounded, the idea appealed immensely. Only ... "We don’t

have on snow pants."

Braden did a dramatic eye rol , leaning his head back. "You're right—it would be a tragedy of epic proportions if we actual y built a snowman

without snow pants."

She grinned at his sarcasm, conceding. "We
will
get wet, though. And cold."

"I own towels, snowflake. And blankets. And a fireplace. I promise it'l al be okay," he added with an indulgent wink.

By the time they were done, they were both soaked and cold, but to show for their efforts, they had a perfect three-tiered snowman complete with

scarf, wool cap, and carrot nose, al nabbed from inside, and eyes of dark gray stones dug from beneath the snow in the landscaping by the front

porch. The only consolation Braden had made to her worries over their attire was ski gloves, which he'd retrieved from the closet by the front door,

and he'd also grabbed one of his ski caps for Laura.

Upon coming inside, they both stripped down, dried off, and climbed into cozy dry sweats. Braden made mugs of hot chocolate, which they drank

by the fire, discussing the attributes of good snowman-building. He'd had more fun with her out in the snow than he could easily understand.

Now, he'd final y gone upstairs to let her work, deciding he could stand to do a little of that himself. At the very least, he needed to check his e-mail.

He couldn’t remember a time since the advent of the Internet that he'd gone this long without checking it. God only knew what fires might need to be

put out by now.

But after hooking up the laptop to the Internet connection in the master bedroom, he was pleasantly surprised to see nothing too urgent had arisen.

So he took his time answering messages, then closed the computer and retreated to the upholstered window seat where the sun stil blasted in ful

force. Propping up the overstuffed throw pil ows at one end, he reclined and thought he might let the sun lul him into a nap. Spying the snowman he

and Laura had built brought a smal smile to his face as he let his eyes fal shut.

He was stil horny, though. Damn, no matter how much sex he had with this woman, she
still
kept him in a constant state of arousal.

His mind drifted to what she'd said out on the deck about how it was enough just to be fucked by him. Understanding the woman who lay at Laura’s

core stil made such talk more exciting than it would be from any other girl. Like everything with her, he never quite got used to it—it excited him as much each time as if it were brand-new.

Before long, he found himself pondering Tommy’s visit last night, which had turned out much differently than he'd imagined. He'd issued the

invitation in al innocence—he enjoyed the guys company, valued his friendship, so it had seemed natural to have him down for a meal, even if he

did have a lover on the premises. What Braden hadn't expected was the sense that something heavier was developing throughout the evening.

There'd definitely been very sexual vibes in the air, and it wasn’t just from talking about Tommy’s sex games. Braden knew he'd proliferated it—he'd

been just intoxicated enough to go with the flow. So he hadn’t held back on saying Laura had great tits, and he hadn’t hesitated to bring up Stan and

Candy, nor to let his touch drift dangerously near to Laura's crotch while Tommy watched.

The odd truth was—he'd felt a certain unfamiliar pul , found himself imagining Laura being with
both
of them, him and Tommy. He'd found himself envisioning her letting go that much more—opening herself up that much deeper. And he found himself
wanting
it. Wanting to see her that way, with another man, with
two
men.

He also couldn't help remembering how much she'd obviously liked having two cocks last night in bed—even if one had been only a toy. She'd

wanted it, too—wanted him and Tommy, together. He doubted she
knew
she'd wanted it—but she had.

The sun final y made him sleepy enough that he began to drift off. But as drowsiness meshed with his arousal, a question edged his mind. Would

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