RidingtheWaves Page 4

  He released her chin and cupped his fingers over the hand fidgeting with the button. The calming effect eased all ill feelings she’d harbored during the past thirteen days. The fact Jared and Willow were screwing behind her back still hurt, but not as badly. She’d accepted the beating to her pride and moved on with her life. What she couldn’t get past was the fact Jared doubted her ability to fulfill his needs. It only made her feel like less of a woman and incapable of pleasing a man. “I was engaged that day you called, but by midnight, I became a single woman.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.”

  “How long have they been involved?”

  “A couple months.”

  “Christ, Annalee. Why would you do that to yourself? You deserve better than that.”

  Her gaze snapped up from her lap and she glared at him. “I had no clue. Not until that night when I saw whip marks all over his body.”

  Brent raised a questioning brow.

  “Sexual obsessions. He calls them needing more. I was clueless to those as well.” Now that she’d talked openly about them, she’d never felt a bigger fool for making excuses for Jared’s aloofness rather than investigating his dramatic change. Especially to Willow. “He presumed I was too innocent to fulfill his desires, so he wanted to marry me and keep her on the side. I can’t believe it.”

  Brent squeezed her hand. “You were engaged to the guy, how could you not have known?”

  His skepticism raised the hair on the back of her neck. “Why would I?” she snapped defensively.

  “Communication.”

  “Are you kidding? We never talked about sex.” Never talked during sex either. Even when they used to spend entire days in bed, other than switching positions, things stayed pretty simple.

  “It wasn’t obvious in his technique when making love to you?”

  “My best friend kindly took over the receiving end of my sex life.”

  “From the onset of the affair?”

  “Pretty much.” She glanced through the passenger window and released a long breath. “He used me for a quick fuck to fill in the gap between Willow sessions.” Why was she talking to Brent about this? Had she subconsciously chosen to warn him of her sexual inadequacies before giving him the opportunity to find out for himself?

  Spending the night together suddenly turned into a bad idea. “You know, I think I’m just going to go home.”

  “No, Annalee, you’re not,” he stated firmly.

  Okay. Issue resolved.

  The tightening of his fingers returned her gaze to her lap. She placed her free hand on top of his, which barely concealed half of its size, and caressed the skin in between his knuckles before sliding her fingertips along the length of his thick fingers.

  “Too innocent, huh?” he asked.

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah, I suppose.”

  “And if he had asked you to experiment?”

  She nodded shyly. “I’m not afraid to try anything once.”

  Chapter Three

  Brent escorted Annalee into his hotel room, turned on the light and twisted the lock to secure the deadbolt. She stood beside him with both hands clasped around his arm at the elbow. The instant he guided her through the short foyer and into the heart of the room, her grip tightened. He halted and glanced at her, but she stood wide-eyed, staring at the bed, oblivious to everything else. Either she had second thoughts about spending the night together or she couldn’t wait to hop under the sheets. He hoped to hell it was the latter.

  Rather than giving her additional time to dwell, he sat down on the mattress to pull off his boots.

  She cowered past the bed and sat down on the couch.

  “What’s the matter, Annalee?”

  “I’d rather we go to my house. Is that okay?”

  “Why?” He glanced around the room, looking for something that may have spooked her. The only thing out of place was the duffel bag he’d left on the floor with clothes piled on top. He hadn’t expected to fly into town so late, which delayed his arrival at Whiltby’s party, so he hadn’t taken time to unpack. If something that trivial upset her, it was a problem. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s silly.”

  “What? The room?” He glanced straight ahead at her reflection in the oval mirror and his blood stirred. She fascinated him—she always had.

  “No, it’s cute. Three rooms in one. I like it.”

  Okay, that narrowed things down. If she didn’t mind the room, that left him. “I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to.”

  “It’s not that.”

  “Then what is it?” He kicked his boots beside the bed and joined her on the couch, where she, without looking at her fingers, picked at the cuticles. He steadied her hands between his palms. “Bedbugs?”

  “No.” She shook her head and slightly laughed. “I told you, it’s silly.”

  “That’s your opinion. Talk to me.”

  “It’s,” she took a deep breath and slumped her shoulders, “the bedspread.”

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  “It’s yellow.”

  His brows arched as he glanced at the bed then lowered his eyes to her face. “Okay. A yellow bedspread. I don’t understand the significance.”

  “I, um,” she looked down at their hands in her lap, “have a slight fear of the color yellow.”

  He’d never heard of that before, but what did he know about fears and phobias? “That’s it?”

  Her bottom lip trembled while she nodded.

  “There are a lot of yellow things in the world. How do you cope?”

  She battered her lashes and sighed. “I can tolerate most things, but I freak if yellow cloth touches my skin.”

  “Blankets, towels, clothes?”

  “Yeah. I told you it was silly.”

  “Unusual maybe, but not silly. Why would that fear be any different than the fear of spiders or snakes or heights? Obviously you can’t help it.” He brought her hands to his lips. “What causes it?”

  Her gaze danced across his face. “Different things.” She smiled timidly and a pink flush rose to her cheeks.

  It emphasized the shade of her dark-blue, passionate eyes. The unique lavender flecks sparkling in the center of her irises intrigued him from the first day they’d met. They appeared richer in color tonight, but the dull lighting might have been a factor.

  “I guess in my case, it’s fear by association. Trauma,” she continued. “When I was a little girl, a yellow truck rear-ended my mom’s vehicle. We were banged up pretty badly, and they rushed us away in an ambulance. The doctor said it probably caused the phobia.”

  “Well, baby, I can take care of that right now.” He stood and yanked the bedspread off the bed. “Problem solved.” Other than driving to the store to buy his own bath and hand towels, there wasn’t anything he could do about the bathroom linens. With a hotel named Sunshine Inn, the contents of the rooms were pretty self-explanatory. “You’ll want to shower at home though.” He folded the bedspread and set it on a high shelf inside the closet.

  “That’s fine,” she said, her voice sounding more relaxed. “How do you and your brother both fit in this puny place?”

  “We don’t. I wouldn’t have brought you here if we bunked together.” Strolling back to the couch, he held out his hand. The arousal she’d stirred when he’d held her flush against his body on the dance floor had reached its peak. For such a little woman, she left a big impression. But from prior experience, he’d already known that. “C’mere.”

  As she stood and slipped her hand into his palm, her fingers trembled.

  He cupped her face and caressed both delicate cheekbones with his thumbs. Lazily her black lashes fluttered upward.

  “Relax, Annalee.”

  She smiled but it seemed contrived. “I’m…um…am…a little nervous.”

  “Don’t be.” He found that hard to believe. This was by no means the self-assured woman whose gaze he’d caught
fondling his crotch at Whiltby’s office more times than he could count. The fundamentals of being alone in a cozy room were totally different than sitting side by side at an office desk though. Or her ex seriously fucked her up. “Let’s start with this.” He slid his fingers into her hair, searching for clips to un-secure the headpiece.

  She reached to help but he replaced her hands at her sides. “I’ll do it.” He needed to set the tone for the evening and give insight into who’s in charge. I’m not afraid to try anything once. Tonight he’d discover just how willingly she’d back up that statement.

  Gently he pulled two metal clips free and set them in her hand. “How many more?”

  “Three.”

  While he searched, she shifted weight to her right foot and brought her hands up once more. “They’re right here,” she said, grasping one with her fingernails.

  “I told you,” he grabbed both hands, lowered them to his mouth and kissed her palms, “I’d take care of it.”

  After returning her hands to her sides, he dislodged the final three, patting flyaway strands of hair that pulled free with the clips. After he slipped her ponytail through the headdress, long, straight tresses fell over her shoulders and chest. A fruity aroma drifted to his nose, instantly taking him back to the days at the office. Many times she’d squeezed his hand, branding her touch into his memory. It’s not something he’d forgotten. When he’d departed for Seattle, he’d carried the essence with him—even out to sea, where its power nurtured him through lonely nights and comforted his battle wounds.

  He tossed the headpiece on the couch and delicately massaged her scalp where the hair had been tugged up at the sides. The soft, silky strands worked as an elixir to his calloused fingertips. “You’re beautiful.”

  He attended the party for one reason. One. Hoping to find her in attendance. And when he’d spotted her in back by the bar, damn—why hadn’t he come back sooner? He’d wasted a lot of time. Time he’d never recoup.

  Finding her in the realm of a broken relationship worked to his advantage. Not that he was happy she’d suffered heartache during the traumatic breakup, but whether or not she’d realized it yet, she needed to be stroked and kissed and comforted, having been savaged by her ex. The timing couldn’t be more perfect.

  One button at a time, he unfastened her coat. Her gaze followed his fingers along the descent then it lowered to the floor. “Are you having second thoughts?” he asked, sliding his hands to her shoulders beneath the fabric.

  She inhaled sharply. “No. I want it.”

  As he slipped the coat along her arms, he took his time to caress her skin. Despite the warmth of her body, she shuddered and goose bumps rose on her flesh. “Are you okay?”

  She chewed her bottom lip and nodded. “Uh-huh,” flowed from her on a sigh.

  He removed the coat and tossed it beside the headpiece. “Annalee?”

  “Yes?”

  “Look at me.” A dreamy stare captured his eyes. “Now kiss me.”

  She gripped the sides of his waist, tiptoed, and very gently, too gently, brushed her lips against his. Her mouth quivered and lashes fluttered closed. “Open your eyes,” he whispered.

  When they slowly opened, the passion in her gaze chased every ounce of blood to his cock. It hardened and throbbed, pushing against his soft leather pants. He placed his hand on her lower spine and pulled her close, pressing his cock into her belly. The contact was supposed to provide some relief. Instead it added pressure to his balls. A blinding pressure, urging him to rip off her clothes and give in to an unyielding fuck. But he refused to go that far. The timing wasn’t right. It appeared that’s all she’d been getting from the selfish ex. Tonight, Brent would give her something more. Something to remember that’d ease the pain the asshole caused. He couldn’t understand why Jared shoved Annalee aside for the redhead she’d put to shame. Although the intrigue behind BDSM was very influential. “Feel what you do to me?”

  She nodded. The swell of her breasts rose as her breathing increased. Her nipples hardened, brushing his chest during each languorous breath she inhaled through her nostrils.

  “I’m not going to fuck you,” he said, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck. He drew her face near and placed his lips on the crown of her head.

  She tensed. “You’re not?”

  The disappointment in her tone made him smile. “I’m going to make love to you like you deserve.” He laid his hand at the center of her spine. “Starting right now.” With a twist of his fingers, he unhooked her halter. As the elastic band sprang open, he ran his palms up and down the contour of her back from shoulder blades to tailbone. Her stiff muscles slackened during each caress along her warm, smooth skin. A silent moment later, she completely relaxed, and with a slow indrawn breath, she laid her forehead against his chest.

  A tremor ran through her just as she lifted an arm to untie the strap at her neck. He grabbed her hand. “No,” he whispered, replacing her delicate fingers on his waist. “Undressing you is my job.”

  He reached beneath her hair and untied the bow. Taking a thin strap in each hand, he peeled the satin fabric away from her breasts and disposed of it on the couch.

  He sucked in a silent breath and she immediately crossed her arms. Christ, he’d waited too many years for this night. Modesty was not going to spoil it. He didn’t know what the future held, but if destiny didn’t allow him to see her again, he’d make sure he’d see all of her first. “Don’t hide your body from me.”

  She tilted her face toward the floor. “I’m afraid I won’t meet your expectations.”

  Expectations? His expectations? “Christ, Annalee, you go way beyond anyone’s expectations.” Yeah, the loser ex needed an ass kicking—he’d done serious damage. “Never,” he said, taking hold of her wrists, “think any differently.” He took a long step backward, holding her at an arm’s length, and rolled his gaze along her body from her stilettos to her flushed cheeks. “Look at me.”

  Her gaze slowly rose from the floor, skimmed his legs, his chest, and finally settled on his eyes.

  “I know Jared hurt you, but my God.” He led her to the bed and sat her down. “This needing more he referred to, it’s powerful stuff. I get why he didn’t want to introduce you to the play, but I don’t understand why he didn’t try.”

  She nudged her shoulders. “Why?”

  “It can get pretty intense. You’ve seen his welts.” Damn, she was beautiful. And here she sat beside him, half naked, and he was talking about her ex’s sex life. “Look,” Brent tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “He said he still wanted to marry you. You couldn’t have possibly done anything to turn him off. If he wasn’t man enough to approach you about his game, it’s his fuckup, not yours. He doesn’t deserve you.”

  He glanced at her perky, moderately sized breasts and sucked in a breath. “But you will never,” he laid her back on the bed, “hide your body from me. Ever.”

  He kissed her, darting his tongue between her teeth. Alcohol and sweetness lingered on her breath. Her hands held the backside of his head as her tongue danced alongside his. So he’d wanted to keep things slow and easy? Yeah, that wasn’t happening. Just tasting her and listening to her choppy breaths awakened his greed and lust and whatever the hell else was buried inside his guts. He expelled four years of pent-up emotion in that one kiss—lapping and suckling and mingling and searching. And the desperation in the grip she’d fisted in his hair gave a pulse to his cock that pounded his balls.

  Her soft whimpers soared above the drumming in his ears when he slipped his fingers beneath her waistband. He eased the pressure from her mouth and ended the kiss with a tender pat to her lips. Panting, he rested his forehead against hers and teased her belly by sliding his palm back and forth between her hipbones. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.” He rubbed noses. “Lie still.”

  He sat up, drinking in the sight of her flat belly and the sheer pants barely concealing her thighs. The rate of his pulse blew past t
he speed of his rapid breaths. After delivering a fingertip caress along the curve of her waist that made her twitch, he squatted in between her legs, unstrapped her right shoe and slid it off her foot. In a firm stroke, he ran his thumb along her sole. A faint giggle accompanied a slight jerk of her leg. “Ticklish?”

  “A little.”

  He brought her foot to his mouth and kissed the inside of the sensual arch, smiling to himself when her breath snagged. The woman had more curves than an hourglass. He could spend days finding and tracing each one.

  Gently he set her foot on the floor and repeated the routine to her other. And as much as he wanted to tickle it until she cried, he refrained, stood up and inserted his fingers inside her waistband. His gaze captured hers while he tugged the pants, pantyhose and her panties over her hips, rolled them down her legs and slid them off her feet.

  The moment he gained a full view of her, lusty urges raced through his blood. He memorized every detail of her sensual body. A vision of her cuffed to the bed shot his temperature through the roof. But vowing to keep the night simple, he pushed it aside for another time. Man, he hoped there’d be another time. He’d hate to miss the opportunity because he’d chosen not to introduce her to his exotic needs too soon. She appeared too delicate to submit willingly to the things he wanted to do to her, or for his often needed, desire-driven fucks.

  He had a feeling he now understood her ex’s indecision. And that was a huge blow. But he wasn’t like the ex and he refused to shut her down without giving her a chance. Little by little, he’d give her a dose of his carnal needs. She’d know whether or not she’d want to continue. What a fucking turn-on, but hell, the visual weakened his endurance.

  I’m not afraid to try anything once. Honestly, he doubted she knew the severity of those words, but he intended to use them to his advantage.

  He removed his gaze from a three-inch scar on her hipbone and glanced back to her eyes. She stared, watching his every move. “Baby, place your feet on the bed.”

  She scooted back, placing her feet on the edge of the mattress. Releasing a deep breath, she brought her legs together.