If Only (13 page)

Her face broke into a smile as she continued, “We can go home and you could light a fire in the fireplace.” Her lips came up and began trailing a path beginning just behind Scott’s left ear, leaving soft kisses leading all the way down the length of his neck. She couldn’t help but grin to herself when she heard her husband groan at her ministrations.

“And then,” she continued with a chuckle as her fingers brushed against his chest. Her emerald green gaze met his chocolate brown stare. “I’m all yours, big boy.” She teased. “But I do think you should know one thing,” she commented with a secretive smile.

“What’s that?” he questioned with a tortured groan.

Bree looked around just to make sure no one could overhear their conversation. Then she turned to face Scott with a grin on her beautiful face. “I’m not wearing any underwear,” she whispered matter-of-factly.

“Damn,” he muttered as his dark eyes roamed hungrily down the long length of his wife’s body. He immediately began to feel his body beginning to harden, even though the temperature outside was almost chilling him to the bone.

She giggled as she grabbed the rough material of his shirt. Tugging on the fabric, her lips grazing the delicate shell of his ear, she challenged, “Race you to the car.”

With those words, she took off, leaving Scott standing there, simply gaping after her. “No fair!” he yelled as his long and lean body ran after her in hot pursuit.

Chapter 9

Bree was wearing a smile on her face as she walked through the front doors of Sexton Books the following morning. She looked over at her husband, amused to find he was wearing an identical grin. She looked down when Scott’s fingers interlocked with her own. She giggled like a schoolgirl when he grabbed her around the waist and pressed her body against his, his mouth nuzzling her on the neck.

She shoved him away playfully, her emerald eyes darting around the length of the lobby. “Quit that!” she shrieked as he pinched her on the backside. “What if someone sees us?” she questioned with a grin.

A mischievous light came to Scott’s eyes as he again reached for his wife. “So what?” he replied with a wink. “All anybody would see is a man who is completely smitten by his gorgeous wife.”

Bree grimaced as she stroked her stomach, where the only telltale sign she was even pregnant was the slight curve of her abdomen. “Don’t you mean growing wife?”

“No, gorgeous,” he corrected as he glanced down at her barely thickened waistline. Catching her by complete surprise, he leaned over and kissed her fully on the lips. Placing a hand protectively across the slight swell, he looked up and lost himself in the green abyss of his wife’s eyes. “You are beautiful,” he stated as his lips met hers once again. “And our baby is beautiful,” he continued as his lips caressed Bree’s.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her words barely reaching Scott’s ears. Her green eyes darkened to jade.

Scott recognized that look in her eyes. It was a look he knew very well. “Later,” he promised with a secretive smile as he placed a single fingertip on her waiting lips.

She jabbed the up arrow on the elevator in annoyance. She didn’t know what she had been thinking. Thoughts of sex while she was at work? That was so unlike her. Maybe she could blame it on her hormones.

*

He smiled as his brown eyes raked down Bree’s body. She was in what he liked to call her professional mode, wearing black high heels that made her long legs seem even longer. No one would be able to guess just by looking, but Scott knew, from simply watching his wife dress that morning, she wasn’t wearing pantyhose. Her slender legs were encased in thigh-highs he couldn’t wait to strip off her. He also knew she was wearing a red lace thong with the matching bra across her high and full breasts. But that would stay their little secret.

She was dressed in a black pencil skirt, and while nobody else could tell, they both knew she had been forced to leave the top button unbuttoned due to her slightly thickening waistline. He nodded with masculine approval at the black shell she wore underneath an emerald green blazer, which made her eyes look luminous. He had to admit, even though Bree worried about gaining too much weight, pregnancy obviously agreed with her.

In Scott’s opinion, his wife had never looked better. He had never been one of those men who had believed a woman glowed while she was pregnant, but in her case, it was the truth. She had always been beautiful, but now, she was positively glowing. She was radiant.

His dark eyes glistened with mischief as the elevator door opened with a ding. Bree was paying him no attention as she walked through the open doors. He grabbed her playfully by the shoulders and pressed her body against the back of the elevator, causing Bree to giggle.

His lips came down to meet hers, and she groaned as his tongue came into contact with hers. He raised his eyebrows suggestively as his finger hovered over the lock button on the elevator panel. “Feel like making love in an elevator?” he proposed.

* * * *

Bryan Sexton was having one hell of a time trying to concentrate on the company’s financial reports, which were quickly accumulating on his desk. He released a sigh of frustration as he shoved the offending documents onto the floor in one swift motion.

His blue eyes surveyed his surroundings critically. The left side was what he liked to call his “wall of windows.” If he walked over and stared out, he could see the lobby from where he stood. He liked knowing he could peer down and see everybody scurrying around like ants in an ant farm, but they were unable to look up and see him.

His luxurious office was proportionate in size to most football fields. But today, it wasn’t near large enough. He walked away from his desk, pacing the office like a caged tiger. Running his hands through his perfectly coiffed blond hair, he grabbed a framed photograph of his pampered princess of a wife from the top of his desk. He only paused to look at it for a split second before he threw the frame against the wall, a feeling of satisfaction coursing through his veins as he watched the glass shatter all over the floor.

Let the cleaning crew deal with it. I have better things to do.

Placing his fingers against his temple, he could feel the onset of a headache, and he knew the cause for it. It seemed as though everything he had worked for, cheated for, and lied for was beginning to unravel right before his very eyes.

He had fought for way too long for everything to start falling apart now.

The sound of a woman’s high-pitched laughter distracted Bryan from his thoughts. He couldn’t help but cringe at the sound. It reminded him of fingernails scraping against a chalkboard.

He stalked across the expensive plush carpeting and stared out through his wall of windows, his eyes searching throughout the office lobby, trying to locate the individual responsible for interrupting his thoughts. His eyes narrowed into slits as he identified Bree Weston.

His mouth twisted in obvious distaste as he watched the couple’s playful interaction. Bryan’s attention was focused on the stunning Bree, who was using her feminine wiles on her totally oblivious husband. He was following her around like a lovesick puppy, lapping up her attention with a goofy grin on his face, and Bryan sneered, realizing Scott Weston was obviously whipped. He was surprised the man even had the testicles needed to father a child.

Bryan’s well-manicured fingertips drummed against the glass windowpane impatiently while the obvious evidence of his arousal pressed against the crotch of his custom-tailored slacks.

His lack of recent physical intimacy was beginning to get to him, he supposed. His complete bitch of a wife, who was in the process of threatening him with a divorce, had moved into a separate bedroom months ago.

And although he definitely wasn’t heartbroken, the stubborn Susan Weston was still refusing to answer his telephone calls. His numerous attempts at bribery, which included two tickets for a romantic getaway in the Caribbean, a diamond-studded tennis bracelet that had cost more than she would ever see in her lifetime, and two dozen long-stemmed red roses had simply been refused upon delivery.

Bryan had to admit it to himself, though. There was something about the elusive Bree Weston that intrigued him. He couldn’t seem to put his finger on it, but he was drawn to her in some way. Maybe it was because she was completely and absolutely stunning, or maybe it was the added challenge of knowing she was a happily married woman that drew his attention. Whatever it was, he knew without a doubt he had to have her. The desire to seduce her was far too strong to be denied.

He rubbed his hands together with glee. It would be so easy, in fact, almost too easy. After being married to that whimpering little whelp she called a husband, she would thank him for showing her what a real man was like. Maybe he would even have the added bonus of making her fall head over heels in love with him. Then whenever he tired of her, she would run back to her spineless wuss of a husband, her heart broken and shattered.

Bryan chuckled as he watched Scott Weston grab his wife by the shoulders and press her youthful and pliant body against the back of the elevator only moments before the doors closed.

“I hope an unfaithful wife is on your Christmas list this year, Scott Weston, because that’s exactly what you’re going to get!” He spoke underneath his breath and then laughed.

It was time to schedule an employer-employee consultation with Mrs. Bree Weston. After his secretary’s lunch break, he would have her make the call to have Bree summoned to his office. It was time for a little one-on-one.

He turned around and almost skipped back to his desk, now suddenly anxious to tackle his reports, which had been boring only a few short minutes ago. A malicious grin spread across his face as he began to whistle the chorus to “Jingle Bells.”

Chapter 10

“How much do you know, you little bitch?”

The sound of that masculine voice from the deep abyss of her past struck a sliver of fear into the depths of Bree’s heart. She felt as though she couldn’t draw a single breath. She could feel the walls beginning to close in on her.

Bree opened her mouth to speak, when she suddenly realized that no words would come out. There were so many things she wanted to say to this selfish bastard. She wanted to yell at him, she wanted to curse him, she wanted to strike him, she wanted to lash out at him in any way that she could. But now that he didn’t have the power to strike her, she just couldn’t seem to get the damn words out!

With a wicked glint in his blue eyes, he approached her slowly, an evil chuckle erupting from his throat.

Escape was the only thought in Bree’s head at that particular moment. She only knew that for the safety of both her and her unborn child, she had to get out of the office. Right this minute.

She whirled on her heel and without a single word, reached a hand out to grasp the cold metal of the door handle. But when she turned the knob and attempted to open the door, it refused to budge.

Bree looked down when she realized her hands were trembling. She was trapped in this room, and there was no way out. For now, she was at his complete and total mercy. Suddenly, she was afraid. She was afraid for both herself and for her baby. If Bryan had been willing to sacrifice his own child on three different occasions, he wouldn’t even hesitate to snuff out the life of this baby. A baby that she and Scott both wanted so desperately.

“If you want the key,” Bryan taunted with an arrogance that made her want to slap the smugness right off his face, “you will have to come and get it.”

She shivered as he ran his fingers slowly and painfully against the side of her face, his fingernails digging into the sensitive flesh of her cheek.

He chuckled cruelly when Bree cried out in pain as he grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and slammed her body forcefully against the wood-paneled wall.

*

Bryan watched her body fall to the floor with amusement, relishing the fact that a human being was in pain, enjoying the fact that he was intentionally hurting another person.

He grinned when he saw the telltale mark of a bruise forming in contrast against the paleness of her face. By the time he was through with Bree Weston, she would have more than one of his marks on her.

“Tell me what I want to know,” he demanded as he kicked the wall in frustration. His foot narrowly missed Bree, who flinched in response.

“Next time, I won’t miss,” he threatened as his foot hovered directly in front of her stomach. “How much do you know?”

Bryan felt like rubbing his hands together with glee. She was trapped; he knew it, and she knew it. He purposefully stepped away from her long enough to walk over to his desk. Without a second thought, he flung his hands out, sending everything on his desk onto the floor in one swift motion. He didn’t care about all of his important papers, all of his financial and sales reports for the past year, which were now scattered throughout the room, or the expensive crystal paperweight from Tiffany’s that was now shattered at his feet.

He was thinking about one thing and one thing only; he was going to rip off Bree Weston’s clothing, leaving it as nothing but tatters on the floor, and force his aching cock into her. Whether she enjoyed it or not was of no consequence to him. He wanted her, so he would have her. End of story.

Bryan recognized the anger in her voice as she retorted, “Why don’t you just tell me what you want to hear?”

He watched in amusement as her green eyes quickly scanned his office, looking everywhere and at everything except him. It dawned on him at that moment that she was trying to find a way out. He couldn’t help himself; he laughed.

*

She shifted uncomfortably when his icy blue gaze followed along the slopes of her breasts and down the length of her body. His eyes finally rested on the slight curve of her abdomen, his eyebrows lifting in a silent question.

Bree was suddenly repelled when she realized he was trying to envision what she looked like naked. Just thinking about his hands on her body made her stomach churn with distaste.