Authors: Jennifer Probst
He removed her blouse and bra then traced the sensitive line of her naked spine with his fingertips and stopped at the curve of her jean-clad buttocks. “What?”
“I don’t want to fly alone this time.”
He laughed low. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
With one quick tug at her hair, he exposed the delicate line of her throat and tilted her breasts upward. His mouth lowered to one peak, his tongue making teasing patterns around her nipples. Her nails bit into his shoulders. Carefully, he tugged at the hard crest with his teeth, and then his lips opened and he took her breast into his mouth fully.
His tongue tasted her, drinking in the scent of roses and vanilla that drifted from her skin, suckling gently at the hard nub. Her whimpered cries echoed through the air. As he loved her breasts, she thrust her fingers into the dark strands of his hair and held his head closer. He moved his mouth, wanting more and treated her other breast to the same pleasure as the first.
“Logan, please.” She arched upward to get closer to the sweet torture.
“Please, what?” He rubbed his lips over one crest knowing the motion would make her shudder with pleasure. “Please this, Logan?” His tongue licked gently, flicking over the hard nub over and over. “Or please this, Logan?” He took her breast fully in his mouth, suckling, while his hand stroked the skin of her belly. She cried his name.
“Or maybe it was please do this, Logan?” His hands eased down to the snap of her jeans and unfastened them. The rasping sound of the zipper being lowered cut through the air. His fingers slipped into the opening, and the heat of her response burned against the material of her panties. His breath hissed between his teeth as she arched upward.
Chandler was slowly going out of her mind. Liquid heat coursed through her body and pounded between her thighs. She melted into a trembling mass of nerves and responded to every touch, every kiss, every look from him, always aching for something she knew would ease the raw desire throbbing within.
Needing to touch him, she tried to release the buckle of his jeans but her trembling fingers refused to cooperate. A low moan of frustration escaped her lips. “Logan, you’re torturing me.”
“I’m torturing myself.” He groaned. “And to think I had intentions of slowly seducing you. Lady, I’ve never had such a problem trying to control myself before.”
“The man of steel?” She stroked him through the material of his jeans and felt his hard strength. “I don’t believe it.”
“I’ll have to make you pay for that remark.”
With a low mutter of impatience, he tugged her jeans and black bikini panties off with one swoop, tossing them to the floor to join the pile of clothes. He got up from the bed and stripped off the rest of his clothes, standing before her naked.
Chandler sucked in her breath at the raw power of the man, his lean strength and grace evident in his carriage and quiet dignity. His arms and legs were corded with muscles, his stomach flat, his chest and shoulders broad. “You’re beautiful,” she whispered.
He joined her on the bed and stretched over her. “And you’re exquisite,” he whispered back. “Your body fits to mine like we were made for each other.” His lips played with hers, slipping his tongue inside her mouth to taste her sweetness. He ran his hand ran down her thigh, then back up. His palm settled over her. He felt the heat of her core, and used his knee to ease her legs apart, opening her for his touch. His fingers slipped inside and parted her swollen flesh. She gasped into his mouth and her nails dug into his upper arms.
Fierce satisfaction burned through him at the liquid warmth of her response. His thumb plucked at her hidden nub. He gently guided one finger inside, then gentleness fled replaced by his need to make her soar.
“Logan!” Her cries of pleasure ripped away the steel around his heart. The rippling tension tightened and he felt her body scream for release just beyond reach. He sipped from her lips and swallowed every moan as his fingers pushed her to the edge of ecstasy.
He reached over for the packet beside the bed, taking the necessary actions to protect her. Reveling in her freedom and fierce response, he fought for control over his body, his muscles tight with tension. Taking hard, ragged breaths he eased her legs further apart to settle between them. “God, Chandler, you’re so ready for me I can’t wait anymore.”
“Please, I need you now, I need you…”
He paused at the barrier. Her slick dampness made a path for him. “Open your eyes.”
She obeyed, staring into twin burning embers of smoky steel, his face tight with tension.
“I want to see your face when I make you mine.”
She shuddered as much from his words as from the slow movement of his body as he filled her, inch by inch. She gripped his shoulders hard, her eyes widening, her breath driven out of her lungs by the sheer size of him possessing her. Her body clenched around him in a tight fist. He buried himself deep inside of her. Then paused.
“Hold on, sweetheart. This is going to be a wild ride.”
He moved. The sexual tension escalated to a rapid rhythm as he slowly withdrew all the way and then drove back inside, again and again. Her body arched upward and she held on hard as the pace quickened, faster and faster. His name broke from her lips as she rode a wild wave of desire that filled her up inside to a point where she felt her body about to explode. And still he continued, driving in and out of her wet, clinging heat, her body welcoming him, embracing him, holding him until the orgasm hit hard and she was suddenly pitched into a world of glittering pleasure. Her soul broke out of her body and soared high above as she exploded into a million pieces of pleasure and flew beneath the stars.
She heard Logan’s fierce cry, felt his body shudder, and her arms clasped around him tighter and held him close. As she drifted back downwards in a shimmer of foggy pleasure, she whispered the words that refused to be caged any longer.
“Logan, I love you, I love you.”
Chandler opened her eyes and the full force of the sun struck her face as it streamed through the open windows. Her gaze settled on the figure next to her. Amidst a tangle of luxurious white sheets she followed the line of a muscular calf and thigh, dusted with dark hair, up to a broad chest which rose and fell with each breath, to the slope of an arrogant jaw, hard cheekbones, and fierce black brows. One arm was anchored firmly across her waist, holding her close. She watched him for a few moments, enjoying the sensual lines of his face, the masculine power he radiated even in sleep, the relaxed pose of his lips. The thought of the pleasure those lips bestowed made a faint blush rise to her cheeks, even as her breath quickened at the enticing thought.
After many hours spent learning every intimate secret about each other, they'd finally fallen into an exhausted sleep. She had thought it would be impossible for her body to crave anymore, but just the thought of his mouth on her sensitive flesh had the power to make her stir once again.
Maybe he'd created a monster.
“Keep looking at me like that, lady, and you’re going to get yourself into a hell of a lot of trouble.”
Startled, her gaze flew back to his face. An amused glint sparked in gun-metal eyes, and his mouth curved in a hint of a smile. Her blush deepened. “I thought you were asleep.”
He rolled over and reached up to push away the heavy waves of hair from her face. “How could I sleep when I felt your hungry gaze on my poor, defenseless body?”
She closed her eyes in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I know it’s crazy, when we spent practically all morning, well, together. I thought it would be impossible to keep wanting you and I’m sure there’s only a certain number of times a man can, well, can—oh!”
His mouth covered hers and stopped the flow of words. His tongue dove in and out of her mouth as he leaned over and pressed his body into hers. The bold evidence of his desire pulsed against her thigh. When he finally pulled away, she gasped for breath.
Fierce satisfaction rippled through him. He’d never met a woman who so welcomed his touch on her body; demanded and reveled in the pleasure of lovemaking to such an extent. He’d felt as if he never had a woman give all of herself to him before.
Throughout hours of intense pleasure, she cried out her love to him. The words were like sweet music, ripping at his own control.
Chandler Santell was finally his.
“Don’t look so surprised,” he said teasingly. “I made plans to be strong and give you time to recover. If I’d known you were having the same thoughts I would have woken you up hours ago.”
Chandler laughed and ran her fingers through his dark hair. “You’ve turned me into a nympho. I was supposed to teach a yoga class this morning. Linda will probably be wondering where I am.”
He trailed tiny kisses down her neck. “Hmmm, I have hours of paperwork I’m supposed to catch up on today. But I have a feeling it’ll have to wait until Monday.”
“That’s two days away. Surely, you’ll be able to get into the office by tomorrow.”
He chuckled. “A day and a half. We kept ourselves occupied all morning. It’s now officially afternoon.” Her breath caught as he bit her lobe gently, and his tongue explored the delicate shell of her ear. “I have plans for us the entire weekend. Work is not involved.”
“What? A business tycoon who refuses to work on the weekend?” She laughed as his teeth punished her. “What could possibly be more important than the Weatherall contract?”
“Our contract. We haven’t had our three month review yet.” He blew in her ear. Her body shot up in an unconscious, erotic reaction which he watched with interest. “I’m now ready to give you my full attention.”
His mouth closed over one breast and drew the tip between his lips. She gasped. “We have a lot of financial figures to analyze,” he said. Her nails scraped down his muscled back. “We should go over each case one by one in order to track the full benefit of the program.” He eased her legs apart, his fingers playing gently, bringing forth the warm liquid response.
Chandler fought for breath. “How much energy are you willing to devote to this review, Mr. Grant?”
His fingers drove inside of her, wringing his name from her lips. He settled over her and drew her body close to his.
Logan smiled. “I assure you, Ms. Santell, I will give you every inch of my attention.”
And he did.
“We should eat.”
“Hmmm?”
She lay against him, her long hair fanned out around his stomach and thighs. He was propped up against the headboard. His fingers rippled through the honey colored strands and arranged each wave at a certain angle.
The sun had sunk low on the horizon and threw shadows against the wall of the bedroom. A cool breeze drifted through the open windows. The cream colored curtains billowed outward, then smacked gently back against the panes of glass. The phone rung on a constant basis, and as the machine automatically picked up, a variety of voices filled the tape, demanding a call back. He'd turned his Blackberry to vibrate. The phone shook with anger as it buzzed insistently on his cherry wood dresser. They both ignored it.
Chandler sighed with contentment. “You know, food. Energy. We haven’t eaten all day and I’m starving.”
“I knew you’d be a demanding woman.”
She laughed and stretched luxuriously. “If you want me to keep up with you, I need to be fed. You have more muscle, and therefore, more energy than me. It’s not fair.”
“My aim is to keep you weak and defenseless, chained up in my bedroom for the purpose of pleasuring me.”
She punched him in the arm. “I have to break you of these terrible Medieval ideas. The first chore to help you confront your narrow-mindedness is to cook me dinner.”
One black brow shot up. “Cook?”
“Yes, you know, to make. Prepare food. Cook.” She twisted around to study him with suspicion. “You do know how to cook, don’t you?”
“I made hamburgers on the grill once.”
Chandler closed her eyes and groaned. “Wonderful. No wonder you have so many employees working for you. You can go to a different house each night without anyone becoming suspicious.” She rose from the bed, glanced around the room, and plucked a white shirt draped across a tapestry covered chair. He watched her with a wolfish grin. She tossed him a threatening glare and buttoned the shirt all the way to the neck. The hem fell almost to her knees. She rolled up the cuffs, pushed back her hair, and walked out of the bedroom.
“Where are you going?” he called out, admiring the way her derriere swung enchantingly when she walked.
“To see what you have in the house to make dinner.”
Smiling, she found her way into the kitchen. Chandler knew immediately Logan barely used the room. New copper pots dangled above an old world Spanish custom cabinetry island. Smooth earth-toned marbled counter-tops graced the room. The elegant off-white ceramic tile floor shone with a high gleam, and all the stainless steel appliances looked to be the latest gourmet’s delight.