Breathless (69 page)

Read Breathless Online

Authors: Heidi McLaughlin,Emily Snow,Tijan,K.A. Robinson,Crystal Spears,Ilsa Madden-Mills,Kahlen Aymes,Jessica Wood,Sarah Dosher,Skyla Madi,Aleatha Romig,J.S. Cooper

Tags: #FICTION-ANTHOLOGY

With the burning embers within their suite and the reflection of snow outside as their only illumination, Tony led his wife to the rug in front of the giant fireplace, moved to the sofa, and sat before her. “Now, Mrs. Rawlings, let me see. Show me what is mine and mine alone.”

Latching her thumbs beneath the lace, Claire slowly pulled her panties down her thighs. Letting go of the material, she allowed them to fall to the floor and stepped out of them. Resuming her stance, she again waited as invisible bonds from his gaze held her in place. Rising from the sofa, Tony moved gracefully toward her, each step predatory as he circled her form, his eyes glued on only her. From her round, soft globes and hard, taut nipples to her neatly trimmed sex, his eyes devoured as his erection tented the gym shorts he’d worn to bed.

“You are so damn beautiful,” Tony growled as he stopped behind her. “I want you so much.” Purposely keeping his erection away, he leaned near her neck and breathily asked, “Do you have any idea how fuck’n sexy you are right now?”

Tipping her head to the side and closing her eyes, Claire gave him full access. Inhaling his intoxicating scent of cologne and desire, she replied, “I know how sexy you make me feel.”

With his lips upon her skin, he continued to tease. “These last two weeks, I wanted to see you like this, so badly. I wanted you totally naked...in the pool, on the beach, in our suite with the doors open to the damn world, just like we used to do.” He nipped her skin playfully, causing a gasp to resonate from her throat. “I wanted my wife to be available to just me, but…” He twisted a nipple then tenderly caressed it, creating the perfect combination of pain and pleasure. “…I couldn’t have what I wanted. No, I had to share. I had—”

“You just said you didn’t—” Claire began.

“Shhh,” he whispered, putting his finger to her lips. “I’m not done.”

With each word, each breath, her tension grew. Claire didn’t want him to continue taunting; she wanted him. His demanding tone and suddenly possessive demeanor had her ready and on the verge of explosion. With nothing but words, he could twist her to the brink. This was the man who’d taken not only her body, but also her heart and fulfilled her every desire. “Tony, please,” she begged.

Wrapping her in his arms, he pulled her back tightly against his chest. Claire wasn’t sure when he’d taken off his gym shorts, but by the sensation of his hardness against her lower back, they were definitely gone. “Ohhh….” she mewed.

“What, Claire? Please,
what
? What do you want so badly you’ll ask for it even after I tell you to shush?”

Melting against his chest, Claire replied, “You. I want you. I’ve wanted more of you than I’ve gotten in the last two weeks. We’re home. I want to see you too.”

“My dear, I’m right here.” His hips moved slightly against her as his embrace pulled her closer. Resuming his CEO tone, Tony continued, “And I promise, you’re going to see me; however, as I recall, I asked you to let me finish. Didn’t I?”

Unsure if he wanted a verbal response, Claire nodded.

“That’s a good girl,” he replied, as he loosened his embrace and brushed the sides of her arms with the tips of his fingers.

Her lips parted, and the slightest sound escaped. She couldn’t stop it. The gentle sensation was almost painful. Claire wanted his arms around her, strong and sturdy. She needed to know he was there. The lightness of his touch had her body begging for more. She was on the verge of verbally pleading when Tony reached for her fingertips and led her to the sofa. Kneeling before her, gently spreading her legs, his gaze continued to devour, as his lips moved up each thigh in preparation to do the same. Between taunting kisses, he said, “As I was saying, I had to share.” With a devilish grin, he peered up to until their eyes met. “I don’t know if you’ve ever realized, but I’m not good at sharing.”

With a gleam in her green ones, Claire nodded, still unsure if she should speak.

“Now, that doesn’t mean I can’t do it. For you, my dear, I’ll do anything. However now...now that I have you all to myself, I plan on taking full advantage of you.” He leaned back, taking in every exposed inch of his wife. “Full advantage. I don’t only want to see you. I want to taste you.” Just before he reached his destination, his warm breath teased as he said, “Now I’m done talking. I think this conversation has gone on too long. There are much better things for both of our mouths to do. Do you agree, Mrs. Rawlings?”

Leaning back against the soft leather, Claire breathily replied, “Oh, God, yes, I agree.”

Though more words did come forth, moans and sounds dominated their suite as they reconnected. No longer did the length of their day or the concerns of others fill their thoughts. Only the desires of pleasing and being pleased, filling and being filled, loving and being loved permeated their consciousness. It wasn’t until later, after untold heights, that they made it back to the soft sheets and king-sized bed. Even then, sleep had to wait.

Finally, after they both were satiated, Claire nestled against her husband’s chest, inhaled his intoxicating scent and drifted off to sleep.

There was no place like home.

Chapter 3

Late December 2016

Surround yourself with good people: people who are going to be honest with you
and look out for your best interests.

—Derek Jeter

THE STACK OF mail on Claire’s desk looked daunting; nevertheless, she dove into it with renewed vigor. Never before had she been as involved in the day-to-day operations of the estate. She wanted to do more than she ever had. Truly, she enjoyed the quiet time she spent in their home office doing something productive. Although she wasn’t forecasting life-threatening hurricanes—meteorology was more than likely gone from her future—Claire was doing more than she’d ever done before. Her work kept the estate running, a far cry from the hours spent idly doing nothing in the past. Besides, the name on the deed to the estate was hers: Claire Nichols Rawlings. She had every right to make the decisions, and it was one less worry for Tony.

Since last fall, her husband had been busy becoming re-acclimated to Rawlings Industries. His two-year absence from the daily operations of his multiple corporations and financial endeavors required quite a bit of catching up. Even so, whenever possible, Tony chose to work from home. His devotion and commitment to plunge back into his life was not limited to Rawlings Industries. Tony wanted to spend as much time at home with his wife and daughter as possible. That was why when faced with a full return to Rawlings Industries he decided to share the CEO position with Tim Bronson. Tim had handled things exceptionally well in Tony’s absence; it only seemed right to keep him involved.

With Nichol and Shannon playing upstairs, Claire settled into her plush desk chair and took on the two weeks’ accumulation of mail. Before she could make a dent, there was a knock on the door. Giggling to herself, Claire thought, it wasn’t Nichol: she didn’t knock. It was just another of her many father-like traits. “Come in,” she called, expecting Shannon.

“Claire...” Phil’s voice caused Claire to look up. “...I wanted to catch you before you went through the mail. I was just told that today’s delivery was brought in here before I could go through it.” Phil wasn’t only Claire’s bodyguard and head of the estate’s security: he was also her friend. The two of them had a long history. His tone filled Claire with a sense of foreboding.

“Why?” she asked. “We haven’t received any more threatening letters or packages since before the trip. Have we?”

Phil pressed his lips together as golden flecks glistened knowingly in the hazel eyes peering at her through squinted lids. With a furrowed brow, he replied, “I would’ve thought you knew. Haven’t you spoken to Rawlings? He said he was going to tell you.”

Claire thought back to their time alone since coming home. It had only been one day, and honestly, last night there was very little talking. She worked to keep the blush from her cheeks as she remembered just how little talking they’d done. Before that, they’d both been too busy doing other things or with Nichol. Discussions about the threatening mailings they’d received didn’t exactly seem like good family-dinner conversation. “I’ve spoken with him, but I guess we didn’t get a chance to talk about it, and he was gone this morning before I woke.”

Phil took a deep breath and motioned toward one of the chairs opposite Claire’s desk. “Do you mind?”

Straightening her shoulders, Claire shook her head. “I don’t mind you taking a seat. I’m a little nervous that you think this conversation requires that.” She feigned a smile. “Or maybe you just want to catch up? Tell me that’s all it is. I’ll have some coffee brought in and we can chat.”

Phil shook his head. “Catching up sounds nice, but I have a lot to do right now. First thing after our
chat
, I need to go through that stack of mail—”

Claire leaned forward on her desk, and interrupted, “Fine, tell me. Tell me why you are concerned, and don’t tell me you aren’t. I can hear it in your voice.”

“Claire, I’m sure Rawlings wanted to be the one to tell you. I’ll just take a quick look at that stack and leave you alone.”

Claire eyed the large pile of letters. Most were regular sized; a few were larger. There were a couple of thicker envelopes. Squaring her shoulders she turned back. “Phil, the packages have been addressed to me, or to
Claire Nichols-Rawls
, so I deserve to know what else has been delivered. I deserve to know what progress has been made. Just because Tony hasn’t mentioned it—yet—doesn’t negate my right to know. Besides, I thought you worked for me.”

His shoulders relaxed as he exhaled. “You know I do.”

Her emerald eyes sparkled, knowing she’d won. With a slight grin she tried again. “Then tell me.”

Claire watched the deliberation he wasn’t voicing as Phil shifted slightly in his seat. Each second of silence added to her concern. Finally, he spoke. “You see, we’ve talked about it. I just don’t want to upset you, not after everything you’ve been—”

“Stop,” she said softly. “I’m not going to break. I’ll admit, I came close, but it won’t happen. Truly, Phil, I’m good. Not knowing scares me more than knowing. I honestly don’t think that Tony intended to keep whatever this is from me. By the time we had a chance for some privacy last night, well, we were both exhausted. I mean, we all were and still are. We’ve only been home a little over twenty-four hours.” She pushed her chair back and stood, motioning toward the mail. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll go get some coffee. You knock yourself out with the mail, but first, tell me about the last mailing and what you know.”

Phil nodded. “It came here, to the estate, while we were all in the South Pacific. Eric and I knew about it right away. We didn’t say anything until after the FBI finished their tests. It was clean: no explosives, no chemicals.”

Claire pondered. “While we were gone? When did you tell Tony?”

“After we had the results.”

“Phil,
when
did you tell Tony?” She emphasized the word.

It was one thing for him not to mention it if he’d only learned about it yesterday. It was quite another thing if he’d known about it longer—a lot longer.

“It was right before Christmas.” His words hastened, “Everything was fine. There was no threat and no reason to worry you when you had so much going on. God, Claire, it was Christmas. Not exactly the time you want to hear about any of this.”

“I don’t care if it’s my birthday. I deserve to know.” She walked to the front of the desk, standing before him and took a deep breath. This was definitely a matter she and Tony would be discussing. Softening her tone, she continued. “We—you and I—have been through a lot. I can’t thank you enough for your devotion to me, Tony, and Nichol.” At the mention of her daughter’s name, she saw Phil’s expression momentarily change. It was almost too fast to discern. A second later it was gone. Claire’s stomach turned. “Wait. Something was different about the last mailing, wasn’t it? Oh, my God.” The temperature of the room fell; the hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention. “Tell me it wasn’t addressed to Nichol.”

Phil shook his head. “I can’t.”

The trembling came from nowhere. Suddenly, the cozy home office was a bleak frozen tundra.

His tone was more of her friend than her security. “This is why Rawlings wanted to be the one to tell you.”

Claire nodded and sunk into the chair beside Phil. It was one thing to have some psycho targeting her. She’d been to hell and back more than once. She could take it, but this was different. This was Nichol. As fast as the trembling came, it subsided, and her protectiveness came forward. In a voice stronger than she truly felt, Claire said, “Find this person. You said the DNA points to a woman, right?”

“Yes.”

“She’s not in the database of known offenders?”

“Correct.”

Leaning forward, Claire reiterated, “If some bitch wants to come after me, fine. I’ll take her on. But threaten my daughter, in any way? Hell, no! I want her gone.” Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t care what you have to do. You have my total support. Whatever resources you need, no holds barred.” Claire reached for Phil’s arm. “Please, take her down.”

Phil’s back straightened. “You don’t need to ask. I’d rather you didn’t. The less you know the better.”

Claire nodded and stood again. “I’m going to get some coffee. Help yourself to the mail, but if you find something, tell me.”

Phil grinned.

“What?” she asked suspiciously.

“Well, Mrs. Alexander...”

Claire smiled at the reference from their past.

Phil continued, “...I believe I’ve seriously underestimated you, again. Maybe someday I’ll learn that you’re tougher than I think.”

“One more thing.” Claire asked, “What was in the mailing to Nichol?”

“There were two. The first was a card addressed to Nichol Rawls. The second was a gift, a birthday gift.”

Her brow wrinkled. “What kind of birthday gift?”

“A doll. I didn’t think much of it until I saw the one you got her for Christmas. It looked very similar, very much like Nichol herself.”

“But I had that one made by a private company.”

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