RidingtheWaves Read online

  Riding the Waves

  Jennifer LaRose

  Annalee Parschen is devastated when she discovers her soon-to-be ex-fiancé has been having a secret BDSM tryst with her best friend. Crushed, she wonders how anyone could find a sexual thrill in punishment or submission. Then she’s reunited with Brent Delaney, a former coworker who still ignites her flame. Though they’ve never had sex, she’s taken him home in her fantasies countless times. Turns out he’s been wanting to take her home too. And he has a thing or two to teach her about finding pleasure in submission.

  Brent is now a private sea fighter who guards his employer’s ships from piracy in the China Sea. Returning to the States after a daring ocean rescue, he’s thrilled to be reunited with Annalee, even more so when he gets to introduce her to his dominant side. Unfortunately the murderous pirate he put behind bars has escaped and he’s seeking revenge—against Brent, and anyone he loves.

  A Romantica® contemporary erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

  RIDING THE WAVES

  Jennifer LaRose

  Chapter One

  “I love it,” Annalee Parschen blurted to her best friend, Willow Gordon, who stood opposite her near a clustered rack of sexy costumes.

  “It’s inappropriate for the event,” Willow grumbled. She crossed her arms and her foot tapped the floor nonstop, displaying her impatience.

  Figures. Nothing seemed to impress that woman anymore. “Maybe so, but it’s perfect for what I have in mind.” Annalee raised the harem outfit by the hanger to study the intricate detail. Glittery sequins outlining the halter sparkled in the fluorescent store lighting and thin, gold coins dangled along the waistline of nearly invisible pink chiffon pants. Wow, it would definitely suit her needs. “And it’s a size six.” She shook the garment, listening to the coins softly tinkle. “I’m buying it.”

  Willow’s brows arched, disappearing beneath untamed, curly red bangs. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No.” Annalee draped the costume along her body, held the headpiece on her head and glanced into the full-length mirror on the back wall. The fuchsia color popped against her ebony hair. “If this doesn’t get Jared’s attention, nothing will.”

  “You’re dressing for a costume party, Annalee, not for Jared’s personal satisfaction.” Willow stepped closer to Annalee, yanked the costume from her fingers and returned it to the metal frame. “According to what you’ve previously told me, his cock died months ago.”

  Annalee’s mouth dropped open. “That’s not what I’d said. I told—”Annalee sneezed. Willow’s damn powder-based perfume never failed to rile her allergies. “I told you he’s always tired, so—” She sneezed again. “Quit putting words in my mouth. I just need to rev things up a bit. And this outfit,” she added, retrieving it from the rack and draping it over her arm, “is going to help in my seduction. It’ll blow his mind.” She grinned. “And then, if he’s a good boy, I’ll blow him.”

  Willow rolled her eyes. “You’re acting like a deprived bitch in heat. Maybe he’s lost interest. Have you thought about that?” Again she grabbed the costume and slammed it on the holder.

  “What the hell, Willow?” Geez, she went straight for the jugular. “You’re supposed to be supportive and help me solve this dilemma, not make it worse by insulting me.” What was her problem? PMS? Not enough sleep? Man, she could be a bitch at times. “He’s been working a ton of hours lately. His father is putting many demands on him at the law firm. Lighten up, would you?” Actually, the demands weren’t any different now than two years ago when they’d met, and in truth, she hadn’t a clue what possessed him to become uninterested in her sexually.

  “Hey, you’re the one who complains all the time because you rarely get off anymore, not me,” Willow disputed loudly.

  “Shhh. Be quiet.” Annalee glanced down the aisles and around the immediate area. “You don’t need to talk so loud.” Shaking her head, she flipped through a section of sexy cowgirl costumes, slamming one into the next. “And I don’t complain. I’m seeking advice from my best friend.” A trusted friend who, side by side since fourth grade, shared dreams and conquered girlie triumphs. “A little compassion would be nice.”

  “You want advice, Annalee?” Willow asked, removing a ponytail holder from her hair. “Dump his ass.” She pulled a section of unruly curls over her shoulder. The crimson locks tumbled along her breast in a mass of disarray. “The wedding is only eight months away. Get out while you can.”

  Get out while you can? What the fuck! Annalee’s jaw dropped. Sure, she worried about the relationship with Jared, but to cancel the wedding? He showed no signs of wanting to break the engagement, and she certainly didn’t want to just because he acted aloof at times. If they could put their sex life back on track, everything would be perfect.

  She snapped her mouth shut. “You expect me to ditch the man I plan on spending my life with just because we hit a few snags in our relationship? That’s absolutely ridiculous, Willow.” No wonder the woman couldn’t keep a man in her life longer than a month or two.

  Willow’s gaze dropped to the costumes. “I’m just trying to save you future heartache. Sorry for watching your back.”

  “Don’t do me any favors.” Watching my back? Seriously. Plunging a knife into her spine gave a clearer summation.

  “Let’s get this over with. I have plans tonight. Pick something that will complement Jared’s costume,” Willow snapped, checking her watch. “It’s already 5:30.”

  “Like you, he’s not going.”

  Willow’s eyes rounded in surprise. “Really? Then why are you looking for a getup to impress him?”

  “Forget it. I’m not repeating myself.” Annalee flipped through the rack and retrieved the harem outfit. “Let’s go. I’ll come back by myself tomorrow to shop for the party.” She too had plans—she intended to rekindle Jared’s flame. He said he’d be home at 7:30, which gave her two hours to set the stage.

  After draping the garment over her arm, she marched to the front of the store and laid her purchase on the checkout counter.

  “I hope you plan on staying indoors,” the young female cashier said, smiling through black painted lips. “Or you’re gonna freeze your butt off in this costume.”

  “I do.”

  Black fingernails searched the garment for a price tag to scan. “What kind of party?”

  Bedroom. “Corporate.”

  “Oh,” the girl said. Her eyes lit up behind lids heavily lined with kohl. “How daring.”

  Annalee nodded while patting a yawn. Because of the instability between her and Jared, she never felt rested anymore. “Isn’t it?” She’d rarely done anything daring in her life. Quite the contrary actually.

  She smiled and looked outside. It appeared the predicted winter storm finally arrived. During the thirty minutes she’d been inside the store, a heavy layer of snow had accumulated on the cars and parking lot. Wind gusts whipped by, swirling white, misty funnels past the windows.

  She loved watching the fluffy, beautiful snowflakes flutter to the ground. She’d lived in Ohio for twenty-five years, and every year she’d anticipated the first snowfall. In three weeks she’d celebrate her twenty-sixth birthday.

  Would Jared make this one as special as the last? Every hour for five hours straight, he had a dozen roses delivered to her office. On each card he’d written one word. When she’d lined them up at the end of the day, they read, “Will you marry me, Annalee?” A week later he’d moved out of his apartment and into her house. It was an exciting, romantic chapter of her life.

  “Forty-four twenty-seven,” the cashier said, reclaiming Annalee’s attention. “Will that be debit or credit?”

  “Cash.” She dug the exact amount out of her purse, handed it to the gir
l and waited for a receipt. “Have a good evening,” Annalee said, placing the bag around her wrist. As she reached the exit, she glanced over her shoulder to see Willow standing in front of an endcap of toy handcuffs and other love play gadgets. She picked up a leather flogger that hung off to the side and carried it to the register.

  Really? What did she plan on doing with a whip? It’s not like Willow needed a costume prop.

  Some things Annalee didn’t need to know.

  With the purchase stuffed inside Willow’s large handbag, she approached the doorway, offering an awkward smile. “What?”

  “I’m not going,” Annalee sneezed, “to ask,” she reassured Willow.

  “Good idea.”

  Annalee pushed the door open with her hip and waited for Willow to pass before stepping outside. The temperature had dropped at least ten degrees. Gusts of wind rushed by, blowing up her coat. “Holy shit,” she squealed, fighting to hold the fabric in place.

  “I’m sorry if I pissed you off.” Willow gave her a meager hug and trotted toward her car. “I’ll call you later,” she yelled over her shoulder.

  Annalee dashed to her own vehicle, her hair whipping in the heavy breeze. She climbed inside the SUV, dropped her package on the passenger’s seat and blasted the heater. When she pulled out of the mall parking lot, she crept in congested traffic along the slippery roads. Snowplows spit salt and removed drifts, but the blustery whiteout mired their efforts.

  Just as she pulled into her garage and depressed the remote to shut the door, her phone sang from the bottom of her purse. She muddled through an eye makeup compact, wallet, dental floss, bottle of ibuprofen and a dilapidated change purse to retrieve the cell.

  She didn’t recognize the number, but with her grandma’s Alzheimer’s progressing quickly, Annalee never avoided answering a call. Annalee’s mom and dad relocated to Kentucky because of her grandma’s faltering health, and they moved into her Colonial to nurture her where she felt secure rather than disrupt the comforts of her home by placing her in a nursing facility. Fortunately both of Annalee’s parents had been retired, which provided the opportunity to sell their house, pack their belongings and leave town.

  She hoped the call didn’t pertain to her grandma. Drawing a deep breath, she pressed the incoming symbol to connect the call. “Hello?”

  “Hello, baby,” a male replied.

  Holy cow, his deep, rugged undertone was sexy. “Sorry, you have the wrong number.”

  “This is my baby. I’m sure of it.”

  Oh wow! No way! Only one man in her entire life called her baby, and it downright stimulated her ears.

  “Brent?” She smiled as a face emerged to correspond with the voice. A gorgeous, chiseled, clean-cut face, accompanied by piercing charcoal eyes. A rush of heat exploded in her cheeks. “Oh my God, Brent Delaney?” Warmth spread through her body, settling between her thighs. No other man’s voice had the ability to turn her on like Brent’s. Wow, four years of absence hadn’t changed a thing. “How’d you find my number?” Why hadn’t you found it sooner?

  “I’ve got connections at the office.”

  “How are you?” she squealed.

  “I’m great. How are you?”

  “Doing well.” Damn, the rumble in his tone sent shivers down her spine. “Are you ready to move back to Ohio? I hear big changes are coming. Mr. Whiltby said we’re opening another office near Dayton.” Please say yes. No. Say no. I’m an engaged woman now and could never live with the guilt of inviting you back into my fantasies.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t think I’m quite ready for that.” He chuckled. “Talk to me. Tell me what you’ve been doing with yourself. Are you married? Kids? I want to hear it all.”

  “Listen, I would love to chat, but I’m in a bit of a hurry right now. Can you call me back tomorrow?”

  “You got it.” The phone fell silent. “I’ve been thinking about you lately.”

  The declaration flowed through her veins like melted chocolate. Was it wrong to feel flattered? If Jared paid more attention to her, would hearing from Brent have affected her differently? “We’ll talk tomorrow. Good night, Brent.”

  Brent Delaney? She hadn’t spoken to him in years. Not since Whiltby & Sons transferred him to Seattle. Right before, she’d realized her feelings for him had grown deeper than lust. She’d suffered two or three months of heartache after he’d left. The part that hurt the most—when he’d started dating a feisty redhead just weeks prior to his departure. But what did Annalee expect? She was just a plain coworker smitten by his sexy, good looks.

  That didn’t stop her wild sexual fantasies from kicking into overdrive whenever Brent was near though. Illicit cream-in-your-panty fantasies. On the days they calibrated work assignments he innocently flirted, stood too close or laid a hand on her lower back, but he never carried it further. That’s not saying she hadn’t wanted him to. If her confidence hadn’t been lacking, she would’ve put the moves on him. It had grown immensely hard to avoid sliding her fingers over the front of his pants.

  Shame on her for thinking such things when he’d had a girlfriend, but he lit up Annalee’s insides like the Fourth of July. She wore black pants on those close capacity days to hide the inevitable wet spot. Sure as hell, she’d have one.

  After spending time with him, she’d go home alone to spend time with the massaging showerhead or dildo to ease the overwhelming arousal. She’d close her eyes, imagining Brent doing all sorts of things to her during those solo sessions. Hot, nasty things. And his scent…what an intoxicating mixture of woodsy, exotic spices.

  He’d taken her virginity and hadn’t even known it. It was his image pounding into her when she’d shoved the rubber cock inside her vagina and popped her own cherry. They say you never forget your first, and God, she hadn’t.

  All brawn with brains. Jesus, who could ask for more? Had he married Marie, or Marci or Mary, or whatever her name was?

  “Reality to Annalee.” Wow, thoughts of him still had the capability of pulling her in far and fast. She took a deep breath, grabbed the shopping bag, climbed out of the SUV and entered the house, fanning her face. Damn, her heart pounded.

  And so did her pussy. Tiny, thumping sensations pulsated against her panties as if her clit had a miniature heartbeat of its own.

  What on earth was wrong with her? Was she so sexually deprived something as simple as a voice turned her on? Geez, she needed to stop thinking about Brent and focus on the man she planned to marry. The man she had every intention of seducing the minute he walked through the door. Jared had better get home on time.

  Warm air, fragrant with the scent of watermelon, embraced her when she stepped into the kitchen. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply.

  Morton, her eight-year-old Persian cat, rubbed his furry body against her ankles, startling her. But she welcomed the distraction. It put her thoughts into perspective. She opened her eyes and bent down to pet him between the ears. “Hi. How’s my little guy? Did you miss Mommy?”

  He meowed, making a complete circle around her leg before sticking his pink nose in the air, snubbing her. “You little fart.” She laughed as he sauntered toward the family room. Stuck-up Morton liked attention on his terms only. A quick hello usually kept him content for the remainder of the evening.

  After kicking off her shoes, she laid the shopping bag on the counter beside a decorative bowl of artificial vegetables, removed two baked potatoes wrapped in foil from the refrigerator and placed them in the oven. Brent Delaney? Unbelievable.

  Yes, it was unbelievable how she reacted to him after all these years—like a sex-starved hussy. If she didn’t rid him from her thoughts, she’d be marching down the hallway for a tumble with her dildo and there wouldn’t be any dinner tonight. She’d worked hard this morning prepping the meal and baking a cake too. She wanted everything perfect. Hopefully she wouldn’t over-broil the steaks. They’d been marinating in a garlic herb sauce all day, but she was infamous for ruining a good cut of meat.


  While the potatoes baked, she filled the bathtub with hot water and strawberry bubble bath. Anything fruity sat high on Jared’s list of preferences. Tonight she’d bring out the ammo. If Plan A, the costume, failed, she’d resort to Plan B. Wow, she had no Plan B. She’d conjure up something quick if she needed to.

  She stripped off her clothes and inched into the steamy, hot tub. Heavens, it felt good. The bubbles disintegrated with a soft fizzing sound. She lay back with a long, content sigh, enjoying the therapeutic heat, but her gaze kept roaming to the showerhead. The urge to detach it from the hook grew heavy. If she yanked it down now and used it, she’d likely be so relaxed she’d fall asleep before Jared arrived. Well, maybe one little spray to bring her to the verge of orgasm wouldn’t hurt. It would enhance her mood, and she’d crawl all over him until he couldn’t say no. It’s not like she wanted to change the sprinkle adjustment to pulse or anything. Just one measly shot of the water and she’d be good to go.

  Oh God. Before jumping up and yanking the damn thing down, she bathed quickly and climbed out of the tub. After grabbing a stiff towel from the cabinet, she patted her lower half dry, being careful not to touch her overly sensitive crotch. Any contact to that area right now would send her flying back into the shower, and no doubt she’d change it to the pulse setting and hit the faucets full blast.

  After patting the water off her arms, she doused herself with a strawberry-scented body spray. The vapors caused her to sneeze not once but three times consecutively. When it completely evaporated on her skin and faded to a soft, sweet scent, she dressed in the harem costume and pulled on a long, furry robe to stay warm.

  Because Jared was a prompt, never-a-minute-late man, she removed the robe at exactly 7:25, dimmed the lights and sat down at the table, crossing her legs. The flames from three tapered candles danced enticingly, and she’d topped off the décor with two glasses of white wine.

  Those candles…long and lean and durable and bendable when warm…she’d completely lost her frigging mind.