RidingtheWaves

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 girl 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?”