Tell Me a Desire (The Story Series Book 2) (4 page)

His cologne almost overpowered the extravagant gardenia and white lily bouquets around the condo. Caleb had made sure to have several arrangements delivered for the party, and the normally sterile penthouse was now a riot of big, white flowers and waxy green leaves in crystal vases.

“What’s in your hand?” I pointed, pretending to be annoyed. Colin and I joked often. Not in a flirtatious way, but in an almost sibling-like way. It mirrored the relationship he had with Caleb, I thought.

He held up
Sizzling Florida Heat
, an anthology of erotica that contained one of my stories. “It’s your absurd book.”

I rolled my eyes and ran my fingers over the spiky tip of an orange bird of paradise flower in a tall glass container. I didn’t like talking about my sexy stories with men, not since I’d met Caleb. And I was sensitive about writing romance and not lit fic, like I’d studied in school.

“You find my writing absurd. Thanks a lot.”

Colin’s mouth quirked up. “I find it pleasingly ridiculous.”

That’s the way Colin talked—in a slightly formal and circuitous way. On the polite side of pretentious.

Caleb sometimes talked like that, too, but for some reason, he didn’t have the edge his brother did. Although Caleb was the head of the family’s development company, he had the heart and soul of a poet. Colin was a pure, cold businessman—he’d gotten his MBA at Wharton, studied in Switzerland—and was ever-so-slightly predatory in both appearance and attitude.

There were times when he was annoying as hell.
This
was one of those times.

I snorted and looked for my wine glass, which I thought I’d left on the counter.

Colin stared at me, bored, as he usually did. “Hey, Caleb was searching for you. He wants you out on the terrace.”

“Thanks.” My heart thumped, thinking about how Caleb might soon propose. I could already feel tears prick at my eyelids.

“He was wondering where you were. He likes to keep his little woman on a short leash.” Colin loved teasing me about being a feminist, and whenever he got the chance, he needled me, saying I was now “under Caleb’s thumb.”

“Better than you. You probably don’t even remember the name of your date
du jour
,” I tossed back.

He chuckled in response.

Colin was four years younger than Caleb, which meant he was closer to my age. I guessed he’d been in a fraternity during his undergrad years at Florida State but had never bothered to ask. He was the kind of guy I’d disliked in college. Tall, handsome as hell, cocky. He was in charge of the King Group’s U.S. holdings, whereas Caleb was in charge of international properties and the business as a whole.

Colin had short, black hair and lighter, bluer eyes than Caleb. Icy blue, unfeeling. Whereas Caleb’s were a darker sapphire, like the ocean depths. Other than his eyes, Colin appeared to be a younger, snarkier version of Caleb. He did not, however, share his brother’s respect of women and that irked me.

Sure, women loved Colin, and he loved them. But I’d never seen him with the same woman twice, and tonight was no exception. He’d brought a theme park executive to the party as his date. She seemed nice enough, but I knew I’d never see her again. I’d been with a few men similar to Colin before I’d met Caleb, which is why I knew he was the kind of man who was always searching for his next conquest.

And he wasn’t very discerning about who he chose, judging by the roster he’d brought around in recent months. Theme park executives, doctors, waitresses—they were all the same. Charmed, then discarded. When I watched him in action, like I did tonight with his date, I felt only soaring relief I was no longer single.

Tonight, he’d alternately turned on the full force of his sensual charm and ignored his date, leaving the poor woman grasping for more of his attention. I could tell she wanted to please him by sitting close, playing with his hair, attempting to feed him cherry tomatoes. It was excruciating to watch his hot-and-cold game.

“Her name’s Adele.” Colin opened my book and pretended to thumb through. “Like the singer.”

“Bravo,” I tossed back.
Poor Adele
, I mused silently.

“Oh, look, here’s your story. ‘Consume Me.’ Quite an original title.”

He started to read out loud, and I made a stop motion with my hand and shook my head. Unlike his brother, Colin didn’t understand my need to clear my mind by writing fiction. My work and my bookstore were trifles to him because they didn’t equal profit.

“I haven’t had enough to drink to listen to you read my work.” I snatched a new glass out of the cabinet and located a half-full bottle of Pinot.

“Wine?” I asked Colin, hoping he’d stop.

“Appreciate it,” he replied, pushing his glass on the counter toward me.

Sometimes I wondered if Colin resented me because he spent far less time with his brother now I was in the picture. He acted that way on occasion, and I ignored him.

I allowed his razor-sharp wit, his behavior with women, and his smirks to slide, all because I knew he loved Caleb without question. Worshipped Caleb, even. With Caleb, he was a good man. Genuine.

I saw it in the way he laughed at Caleb’s jokes. How he insisted on playing tennis together every Thursday night. How they bantered in the office, the good-natured barbs and wit flying almost too fast for me to keep up.

Caleb raised his eyes from my book, grinning. “What a sentence:
He touched women like he owned them.
Wow. That’s how I roll.”

Regardless of Colin’s self-important demeanor, I suspected he’d be a doting uncle. Grimacing, I grabbed my glass and swept out of the kitchen, away from his ironic jab.

Bouncing to the terrace, I slid onto Caleb’s lap as the wind whipped around the building’s thirty-sixth floor, making the flames of the dozens of votives scattered around the terrace flicker. He’d really gone overboard for the small party, hiring the chef, a florist, and a jazz trio. The band was set up at the far end of the terrace and was playing sophisticated, sexy beats, loud enough to provide a soundtrack but not so amplified we couldn’t talk.

And Caleb was talking, forcefully. He was arguing with his sister Laura about politics, and I immediately tuned them out and swayed my foot to the music while Caleb hugged me.

“Okay, I don’t care how many campaigns you’ve contributed to. Let me know when you’re going to run for governor so I can move out of state. No politics on Emma’s birthday,” Laura said, pouring herself a glass of water. I leaned forward on Caleb’s lap to grab my wine glass. With a huge gulp of my drink, I reminded myself how I had to stop if I was going to get pregnant in my thirty-fifth year. I’d break up with wine after tonight.

“You’re going to have to sit tight and close your eyes for your cake and gift.” Caleb kissed my shoulder. He boosted me to standing and settled me into the chair next to him.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered.

I laughed, gleeful. He kissed me on the mouth, three lingering, warm kisses that sent little zings through my body.

“Close them, baby… Laura, make sure she doesn’t open her eyes.”

I heard the voices of Sarah, then Colin, then Colin’s date. Also the chef, whose Haitian accent was rich and warm. He mentioned something about a raw chocolate chunk peanut butter cheesecake, and I squealed and wriggled in my seat.

“Don’t open your eyes yet,” Caleb murmured in my ear. I felt his lips press against the sensitive spot where my ear met my cheek.

“I love you and I am the luckiest man in the world because I’m with you,” he whispered. “You’re special and brilliant and mine.” He spoke louder. “There’s something on the table for you, Emma. Happy birthday.”

When I lifted my lids, I saw it.

A long, rectangular, black velvet box instead of a small, square one.

Not a ring.

Not a question.

My jaw dropped, and I gasped out a surprised laugh. All because Caleb looked so happy, and I refused to disappoint him in front of everyone. Which somehow made me feel even worse.

Next to the box was a gourmet cake. It was topped with a single white candle, and I took a deep breath.

“Make a wish,” Caleb said.

I did.

M
y fingers ran
down the crisp loop of the long, platinum-and-diamond necklace. Without question, Caleb’s gift was stunning. It was a long, dual-strand Art Deco-styled
sautoir
from Harry Winston, and as it draped over my chest, it sparkled in the dim glow of the candles around the terrace.

“I’m surprised he spent so much money. I know how much it cost. It’s thirty-two carats of diamonds. An outrageous amount of cash. He’s usually such a tightwad,” mused Colin. He and I were alone at the table and had opened another bottle of Pinot, while Adele, Sarah, and Laura were scattered on lounge chairs a few steps away. Adele beckoned with a red-tipped finger to Colin, who grinned and waved. I gulped more wine, annoyed.

Caleb was inside, paying the band and the chef and arranging a hired car to take them to a hotel.

“What a crass thing to say, and incorrect.” I winced. Somehow the huge price tag of the necklace made me feel worse, not better. The sting of not getting an engagement ring had faded over the previous hour, replaced by a dull hurt.

He rolled his eyes. “Ironic understatement, Emma. You’ve heard of it?”

“Whatever. Why would you say such a thing?”

“Caleb never did those things for Tara.”

I snorted. He’d married her. Wasn’t that enough?

“What? He obviously loves you, Emma. Look around at this party. Flowers, a band, a chef from Miami. All for you. Caleb’s never acted like this with any other woman.”

I shrugged. “Right. So why doesn’t he ask me to be his wife? He didn’t seem to wait this long to ask Tara to marry him.” I couldn’t believe I was asking Colin, of all people, this question. It was hard to believe I was asking the question at all; once upon a time, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to be married.

Colin pushed a breath out and, for once, didn’t seem amused or bored with me. No, even in the candlelight I could see his blue eyes flash. He sat up straight. “Wow, Emma, that’s complicated. I think an explanation will have to come from him. And it’s kind of a heavy topic for your birthday dinner, so…”

“Complicated how?” I sipped my wine casually, now intrigued. Complicated wasn’t a word I’d ever use for Caleb. He’d always been open and honest—and tried to encourage me to come out of my introverted, complex shell and reveal my feelings and my past. One of the reasons I loved Caleb was because he was so forthright and decisive.

He rubbed his chin with his thumb. “Let’s just say Caleb had some competition for Tara, and if there’s one thing Caleb hates, it’s losing.”

I chuckled softly. “Yeah, he still talks about how you won a bet so you could call this building that stupid name. Blu. You’re an idiot for wanting to call it that.”

He snickered. “It’s only one example of his competitive nature. But Blu is merely a name. A brand. Perfectly ephemeral, yet catchy.” Colin shrugged and stood up to stretch. His yawn was loud. He was so opposite of Caleb. Thank God I’d fallen in love with the wonderful brother.

“You’re arrogant, you know that?”

“I feel I have often been miscast as arrogant by the simpletons who surround me.”

God, he was insufferable. I rolled my eyes and snorted and then spotted Caleb on the other end of the terrace, sitting alone on a wide lounge chair. He was staring at his brother and me, and I couldn’t quite decipher the expression on his face.

“You’d better get over there and be with him,” Colin remarked, seemingly reading my mind. “Or else.”

“Or else what?” I scoffed.

Colin shook his head and walked to the opposite end of the terrace, where the other women sat.

Leaving my wine on the table, I went to Caleb, trying to figure out if he looked angry or melancholy. Or was I drunk and projecting my own emotions onto him?

“Hey, baby.” I sank down next to him on the double chaise lounge. “I love the necklace. It’s gorgeous. I can’t stop touching it.”

Wordlessly, Caleb wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in my hair.

“You okay?” I murmured.

“Mmhmm. I want everyone to leave so we can be alone. I want to kiss you for a few hours. Or all night.”

I shifted so I could capture his mouth with mine, and after a few moments of lazy smooching, the others got the message. With a few well-timed coughs and throat clearings from Sarah, Caleb and I stopped acting like teenagers and hugged everyone goodbye. When we were finally alone, he moved the back of the lounger so it lay flat, and we reclined on our sides, facing each other.

“See the stars?” he asked, his eyes rising to the heavens. I flipped onto my back and stared up. There were stars, but they were faint because of the light pollution in Orlando.

“
De sidere
,” Caleb murmured.

“Hmm?”

“It’s Latin for
from the stars
. It’s also the root of the word
desire
.”

His vocabulary sometimes made me melt. I steeled myself, though, because I had questions. Caleb reached for me, but I broke away. “What was your stare about a little while ago?”

“What stare?” He kissed my nose. “One of desire?”

“No, silly. When I was talking to your brother.”

Caleb kissed me again, a faint butterfly kiss, and I wondered if he was avoiding the question. “Caleb, answer me,” I groaned.

He stopped and stared into my eyes hard. “Jealousy.”

My eyes widened in surprise. Caleb, for all his demands in bed and his alpha-male executive demeanor, had never once expressed jealousy during our relationship. Not when he’d seen me chat for long minutes at a time with men at my bookstore, not when guys checked me out in public, and not when a handsome, famous author at a book festival asked me to assist during a signing.

“I’ve never known you to be jealous. How odd. And of your own brother, too.”

Why was Caleb bunching his jaw? I laughed nervously. “Stop. Just stop. Your brother is the last man I’d want to be with. And don’t you know I love you?” I leaned into him and brushed my lips on his softly, repeating the word
you
after three kisses.

“I know. You’ve given me no reason to be jealous. I trust you implicitly, Emma.”

Within moments, his jaw softened and he made little moaning noises as we kissed. “Do you know how much I adore kissing you?” he whispered.

My other questions about the future could wait, I decided as I slid on top of him. Straddling his hips, I unbuttoned his light-blue linen shirt, then ran my hands down his chest. The belt buckle was next, then the zipper, then his pants, until he was naked. I was sitting on his thighs and fluttered my fingers down his toned body. No, he wasn’t as muscular as a man half his age or, truthfully, even his brother. But it didn’t matter to me. I loved every ridge and valley of Caleb’s body, every tiny age spot, each slight imperfection and stray hair. There was something so irresistibly masculine and erotic about Caleb and his nakedness that still took my breath away.

“Can you take this off?” He tugged at my flirty, sky-blue-and-white flowered dress. I stood and turned, unzipping myself and allowing the dress to fall to the terrace’s terrazzo floor. Rotating my body, I slowly removed my light blue bra, then my panties, until I was wearing only the diamond necklace he’d given me. Suddenly aware of the warm wind on my naked flesh, I shivered.

“I never get tired of looking at you, Emma.”

I straddled him, cupping my breasts in both hands and pinching my nipples into points, the diamond necklace shimmering against my skin. “Tonight I want to be on top.”

I leaned to kiss him and could feel the head of his cock on my stomach. He groaned again when I kissed his jawline, then his throat, and I allowed my hard nipples to tease and brush his chest. He sucked in a breath as I ran my fingers over his flesh.

“Goosebumps,” I teased. “Must be the night air.”

“I guess. Or it’s because I’m not usually on the bottom.” He reached to grab a handful of my stomach, which was less firm than I liked. But I didn’t mind when he squeezed.

“I love this. Love your body. Come here.”

“Nope.” I grinned. “It’s my birthday. I get what I want. And I want you under me tonight.”

I slipped my hand between his legs and wrapped my fingers around his thick erection. As I did this, I kissed down his bare chest, pausing to flick a tongue over his nipple. Between my tongue and my hand stroking his erection, Caleb sighed pleasurably.

I kept kissing down his torso, stopping to circle his bellybutton with my tongue. He gasped and then laughed, telling me I was tickling him.

When my tongue was finally poised at the tip of his cock, he grabbed my hair. “But it’s
your
birthday. You deserve the pleasure.”

I grinned and shrugged, and he tugged again harder.

“Turn around.”

I shot him a quizzical glance—I was, after all, a bit tipsy—and he laughed.

“Turn around so I can taste you.”

“Ohhh,” I whispered. “Now I get it.”

I flipped my body so my legs were spread over his face and my mouth hovered above his cock. He squeezed my ass with both hands, then pulled my hips down.

I giggled, then gasped, as my clit and his tongue connected. At first, it was difficult for me to take him in my mouth and develop any kind of rhythm because I was distracted by his circling, his lapping, at my core. I spread my legs wider so his face was buried in me, and I allowed myself to be overtaken with the pleasure—the pleasure of pleasing him and of
his
tongue. He slipped a finger inside me, and I hummed into his erection, taking him deep into my mouth. Wrapping my hand around his shaft, I squeezed and concentrated on calming my gag reflex.

Caleb was so big sometimes my lips stung for an hour after pleasuring him. I never minded, though, because seeing him lose control was well worth the drawback. And tonight, with him making me wetter than I’d been in recent memory, there was no discomfort.

I arrived at the edge before he did because his capacity for foreplay and teasing had always been greater than mine. I was hovering, ready, and I stopped sucking, the head of his cock brushing my lips as I ground my hips into his face.

He swirled his tongue, and I lifted my face to cry out, tossing my hair into a messy cascade down my back. All of the night’s thoughts, anxieties, worries vanished as the moist air on the terrace turned white around me. Closing my eyes, I allowed my forehead to rest on his hard stomach and I reared my hips up, unable to take any more of his mouth because my clit was pulsing so hard.

“I love driving you crazy,” he murmured.

I turned myself around, wanting only one thing: him filling me. On some days, our sex was carnal and rough. But tonight, it was something familiar and safe. Intimate, because we knew each other’s bodies and gave ourselves freely.

I straddled him and sank onto him, rocking slowly, gently, still feeling the reverberations of my orgasm. I tipped my head back, because he felt so damned good inside of me, and I allowed him to move my body however he wanted.

Caleb took my hips in his hands. He held me tight and close, and instead of up and down, he moved me back and forth, grinding me against him, slow and dirty. I was perspiring all over and beads of sweat rained between my breasts and hit the cool metal of the necklace.

I grinned with joy as I pressed into him.

“We’re going to have to do this more—you on top. I love the way you’re fucking me. Look at these. Beautiful, the way they move.” His hands cupped my breasts roughly and I tightened my inner muscles around his erection. “I’d do anything you ask if you promise to keep fucking me like this.”

I grinned. I was his. No question about it.
His
. I moaned as I dug my nails into his chest, blinded by lust.

“Emma,” he groaned, his voice thick.

His hands, his rhythm, his eyes narrowed with feral pleasure. I felt his cock swell and pulse inside of me.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

His chest was heaving hard, and mine was too. I folded onto his sticky chest and swallowed back tears. He was still half-hard, and yet he’d finished inside of me.

He hadn’t pulled out. Hadn’t worn a condom. For the first time, we’d had truly unprotected sex.

My breasts slipped against his sweat-slicked skin, and I sighed long into his neck as he kissed my forehead.

“Happy birthday, Emma.”