BROOKE STARED at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, wondering how she’d lived her entire adult life without experiencing the freedom and abandon she’d discovered here in this cabin with Marc. Mentally, she felt alive, energetic and impetuous. Sexually, she felt liberated and unfettered, willing to explore desires and push limits that a few days ago she would have never dreamed she’d challenge.
And at the center of her transformation was a generous, selfless man who’d coaxed her to her full potential, made her feel enthusiastic and incredibly feminine. Marc helped her realize what she’d been missing for too many years, that she’d settled for certain things when she should have been much more selective and demanding about her needs.
She’d never resented that she’d been a good, responsible daughter, a reliable sister and a faithful, dependable wife. She’d sacrificed her childhood to take care of her family without complaint. She’d raised Jessica, doing her best to keep her out of trouble, and despite the clashes they’d had when Jessica had been a stubborn teenager, Brooke was proud of the woman her sister had become. And when she’d married Eric, she’d done so knowing on some level she’d be taking care of him, too, just as she’d mothered everyone else in her life. For as long as she could remember, she’d suppressed her own personal wants and desires for others, and had never begrudged her choices.
Until now, when she’d discovered all that she’d forsaken. Now, she had a wealth of wants and desires to make up for, and she planned to do so with Marc, who stirred passions that ran deeper than just superficial needs.
She’d once believed that Marc and Eric possessed too many similarities as brothers, the most predominant of which was the inability to nurture and sustain a committed relationship. But in the past few days she’d discovered too many differences between siblings to judge them as equals. While Eric had treated her formally, with his own reserved ideals of how a wife ought to be stereotyped, from the very beginning Marc had been warm and openly affectionate. He was sincere, honest and candid, and didn’t pretend to be anything more than what he presented. Except she didn’t think he gave himself enough credit for who he was—a man with a big heart, selfless intentions, and an endless capacity to care.
He’d shown her all that, and more.
Reaching for the hem of her thermal shirt, she drew it over her head and let it drop to the bathroom floor, shivering as the cold air caressed her warm skin. With cool fingers she touched the chafe marks on her neck from Marc’s stubble, then followed the abrasive path down to her bare breasts, loving this newfound freedom to touch and enjoy her body, which Marc had introduced her to. Shucking convention and thumbing her nose at the restrictions that had ruled her life never felt so wonderful.
And being bad never felt so good.
Closing her eyes, she let a slow smile curl the corner of her mouth as she remembered the kiss she’d instigated in the kitchen after their serious conversation about her father and Eric. The kiss had led them to the couch, where they’d necked and petted and fondled each other like sex-starved teenagers. She’d intended to focus all her attention on Marc and test her seductive wiles on him, but he’d too easily managed to distract her. With a skillful caress, a deep, wet kiss, he’d reduced her to putty beneath his hands and mouth, making her a willing, wanton slave to his carnal desires.
He’d pleasured her, twice, and before she could regain her breath and restore her stamina to seduce him, he’d moved away and settled himself in front of the hearth, where he’d proceeded to add logs to the grate, then muttered the excuse of calling his secretary at home since there was no way he was going to be leaving here until Wednesday and Marlene had been expecting him back in the office tomorrow.
Clearly, that particular episode was over for him.
She’d been miffed that, while she’d been shameless and greedy in taking her pleasure, Marc clearly meant to maintain a tight hold on his own control.
Well, she planned to shatter his restraint.
While he’d been on his cell phone with Marlene, Brooke had retrieved a pillar candle she’d seen in one of the kitchen cupboards, a book of matches, and sequestered herself in the bathroom.
Now, it was time to execute her fantasy.
She no longer heard the deep rumble of Marc’s voice as he talked to his secretary, and assumed he’d disconnected the call. Stripping off the rest of her clothes until she was completely naked, she lit the candle she’d brought with her and turned off the light, throwing the tiny room into seductive shadows and tingeing her skin with a golden, shimmering glow.
Drawing a steady, fortifying breath, she opened the door a crack, then called out, “Marc, can you come here for a sec?”
“Is everything okay?” came his concerned voice.
“I need you, please.” It wasn’t a lie. She needed him in ways that should have frightened her, but didn’t. The connection they shared felt right, and too wonderful to question. The feelings he evoked were rich and vibrant and exciting, and while she’d come to acknowledge the gradual shifting of her emotions, she knew she had to tread cautiously with Marc, who’d built barriers against his innermost thoughts and feelings.
Ultimately, she trusted him, and knew, despite his fierce belief in no commitments, he was a man with integrity. But for some reason, he didn’t see that goodness and decency in himself, believing instead that he was better off alone. Before they left this cabin, she was determined to unearth those reasons, and possibly take a huge risk of her own.
She heard him padding across the living room, then the door pushed open and he appeared, as did an instantaneous frown when he saw that she was naked. “What’s wrong?”
“I need someone to scrub my back.” Smiling invitingly, she crooked her finger at him. “Come inside and close the door.”
A rush of breath escaped him. “Brooke—”
“Anything goes,” she interrupted, not allowing him the chance to refuse her, or turn the situation around so he was the one in charge again. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked me to. Now it’s time for you to return the favor.”
He conceded by stepping closer and shutting the door, cocooning them in flickering, soothing candlelight. “You mean to tell me you want more after what we just did on the couch?” His tone was amused and incredulous at the same time.
“Oh, yeah, a whole lot more. I’m making up for everything I’ve missed. And I’ve missed an awful lot, as you know.” Her lashes fell to half-mast. “Since I plan to get you very wet, you need to take off your clothes.”
He groaned at the provocative slant to her words. “Are you gonna help?”
She shook her head, shivering as her silky hair swayed around her shoulders, brushing her sensitive skin. “Nope. I’m going to watch you while you strip, and enjoy myself, so make the most of it.”
He chuckled as he pulled his shirt over his head, and though the sound was strained with desire, the depths of his eyes glimmered with too much confidence. Brooke knew if she wasn’t careful and didn’t stay on guard, he’d steal this seduction right out from under her and make it his own—with her acquiescence being the ultimate prize. While she certainly didn’t mind being the recipient of the luxurious pleasure Marc so easily wove, she wanted him to let go again, physically and emotionally, as he had the first time they’d made love.
“Don’t be so cocky, Jamison,” she murmured as he pushed his thermal pants over his hips and down his muscular legs, then stepped from the nubby fabric, completely at ease with his own nudity. And why not, when he had a magnificent body? “This time, it’ll be you begging, not me.”
He stood in front of her, large and gorgeous and every inch male, including that arrogant grin on his face illuminated by the candle’s glow. “I’ll certainly enjoy your attempts.”
She rolled her eyes and pushed aside the shower curtain to turn on the hot water. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re way too presumptuous?”
“Has anyone ever told you that you have a nice ass?” His cool, callused palm stroked her bottom, sending a wave of gooseflesh rising across her skin.
“You’re the first,” she said, straightening, then cast him a playful frown. “And keep your hands to yourself. This is my fantasy.”
“Don’t you think I know what really turns you on?” he asked, his rich voice infused with unwavering certainty.
He knew too much, every wanton desire even she hadn’t known she possessed, and intimate secrets she’d never shared with anyone else. She wanted the same from him. “Well, maybe it’s my turn to discover what turns you on.”
“That’s easy,” he murmured as his gaze drifted down the length of her, lingering on feminine dips and curves along the way. “You turn me on.”
That much was obvious by his body’s reaction to her. His arousal grew full and thick, and she hadn’t even touched him yet. The knowledge bolstered her confidence, made her feel very sexy, restoring her determination not to lose her advantage in this seduction.
“Sweet-talking me isn’t going to work.” Stepping beneath the hot, steaming spray, she grabbed his hand and pulled him in. He followed willingly, but she didn’t trust the wicked gleam in his eyes and knew maintaining control would be a challenge in itself.
Intending to emerge the victor this time, she closed the curtain and drenched herself from head to toe, letting him watch as the water slicked back her hair, then sluiced over her taut breasts, her belly, and down her thighs, until her entire body glistened wetly. Then she pushed him beneath the shower and let him do the same while she poured shampoo into the palm of her hand.
The fiberglass stall was small, which made for more intimate contact, and amusing and innovative ways to get clean. Their laughter and chuckles mingled as she scrubbed his hair and he did the same for her, then they helped one another rinse, chasing the suds down their limbs with slick palms. Their bodies brushed erotically, glided silkily, turning their frolicking fun into sizzling arousal and excruciating awareness.
Soft sighs and low groans coalesced. Lips met, damp and soft and hot. Their tongues tangled with delicious indulgence while her soapy hands slid over sleek sinew, discovering fascinating male contours, both hard and soft but undeniably virile.
Hunger and need coiled deep within Brooke as long, callused fingers touched and teased and tormented. Her mind spun, her pulse raced, and just when she made the silent decision to do some exploring with her mouth, he broke their kiss and eased her around so her bottom tucked against his groin and his throbbing erection nestled between her thighs.
Her breath hitched in her throat and a rush of liquid heat greeted the sleek glide and subtle pressure of his arousal there. Realizing this position put her at his mercy, she tried to turn to face him again, but he snagged a muscular arm around her waist, holding her secure and tight against his heaving chest. He stepped back, until the hard, warm stream of water hit her thighs, heightening the ache between her legs, and deeper inside.
On a soft cry, she arched her back, sliding her hips intimately closer to his, but still feeling too empty. She’d sworn she wouldn’t be the one to beg this time, but the need he evoked was too great, and she was helpless to deny what she wanted so badly. She craved not only physical fulfillment, but a spiritual, emotional connection that threatened the rules they’d established for their brief affair.
Turning her head, she looked up into his face, clenched with restraint, and widened her stance for him. “I want to feel you inside me, just like this.” Her voice quivered, as did her whole entire body.
He pushed forward as if he couldn’t help himself, creating a breathtaking friction. She gasped, and he shuddered, his expression agonized. “We can’t, Brooke. I won’t put you at risk that way.”
Frustration blossomed within her. She wanted to argue that this was another way for him to remain dominant and disciplined with her, but how could she when his reasons were solid and rational? As much as her feelings for him were becoming deeper and more serious than she’d anticipated, an unplanned pregnancy was a complication neither of them were prepared to handle.
Her thoughts scattered the moment he slid his hand low, spread her with his fingers, and the shower jet made a direct hit on swollen, sensitive flesh. Her knees buckled, but he held her secure in his embrace. His breath was hot on her neck, as sporadic as her own.
And then he filled her the only way he could, two fingers burrowing incredibly deep while the rhythm of his stroking thumb and the tantalizing spray of the water sent her careening swiftly over the edge. She soared straight in the realms of an explosive orgasm that sapped her of energy and strength.
When it was over, she turned in Marc’s arms and sagged against his chest for support. One arm curled around his neck, and the other pressed against the strong beating of his heart.
Lifting her heavy head, she glanced up at him, her backside tingling from the pelting water. “You did it again,” she accused.
“What? Made you come?” That cocky grin of his reappeared.
Unable to help herself, she laughed, surprised that she was comfortable enough with Marc to indulge in humor after sex. It was a new experience for her, and she liked it. “That, and you’re not allowing yourself to enjoy the moment and just let go.”
“I already had my fantasy. This one was yours.” He dragged his thumb along her jaw, his touch infinitely gentle. “Besides, I enjoy watching you. Immensely.”
Her face flushed at the reminder of her abandon. “It’s not the same thing, and you know it.” She wouldn’t be deterred from her original purpose. “You’re holding back, and I want to know why.”
She felt him stiffen, and his heart thudded beneath her palm. “I’m not holding anything back,” he said evenly, though his shadowed gaze contradicted his words.
Her eyes narrowed on him. While she’d opened up and revealed emotional, personal, intimate secrets, he was very stingy in reciprocating. He was afraid, of giving too much, of needing much more in return. She knew, because she felt it, too, and was just as scared, but was prepared to accept the possibility of something more.
Shifting against the fiberglass wall under her scrutiny, he grasped the hand resting on his chest and guided it downward, over his lean belly and lower—his purpose, she knew, to divert her barrage of questions.
He curled her fingers around his pulsing shaft, and dipped his mouth near her ear. “Here, I saved this just for you.”
Oh, he was so bad, and so, so good. How could she resist such a gift? She stroked him lightly, feeling him grow in her palm, and marveled at the heat and size and strength of him. Rubbing her breasts against his chest, she looked up into his eyes. “How do you like it?”
“Tight. Slow and easy,” he murmured. “And we’ve got wet covered.” Fisting his hand over hers, he showed her the rhythm that turned him on the most, and she learned quickly.
With sinuous movements, his hips undulated, and he groaned low and deep at the pressure and friction they created together. “Yeah, just like that,” he said huskily.
His head fell back against the wall, and she placed openmouthed kisses on his neck and shoulder. Experimentally grazing her thumb over the tip of his penis, she gleaned a slick pearl of moisture that made her eager to discover his taste and essence, to offer him the kind of mindless pleasure he’d so selflessly given her. She wanted to show him how much he’d come to mean to her with that gesture. That what they were experiencing together, no matter how fleeting, was special.
Dipping her knees, she slid her lips across his nipple, flicked her tongue over his wet abdomen, lapped the trickle of water that streamed lower…
Seemingly realizing her intent, he cursed and grasped her arms, hauling her back up before she could take him in her mouth.
She frowned at him, startled by the flare of panic that etched his features. “Marc…”
He shook his head in denial, but there was no disputing the stark need burning in the depth of his eyes, the same sentiment that clutched at her heart. Crushing his lips over hers, he swallowed her protest, attempting to drive his own fear far, far away.
She wanted to reassure him, let him know that he wasn’t the only one swamped with confusing emotions, but there was no stopping the demands of his body. His thrusts quickened against her grip, and his breathing grew choppy. His hips bucked, the muscles along his stomach and thighs clenched, and then he climaxed—long, hard and furiously.
The empty sensation that settled in the pit of Brooke’s stomach didn’t completely surprise her. Neither did the sting of frustration. He’d given her incredible pleasure, and she’d driven him to his own release…all on his terms. Despite her best efforts, he’d maintained ultimate control.
The water continued to rain down upon them, and a shiver coursed through her. He wrapped his arms around her back, warming her skin but not her soul.
“The water is getting cold,” he said after a long, quiet moment had passed. He shut off the valve and opened the curtain, which made her even chillier.
Grabbing one of the fluffy towels she’d set on the counter earlier, she handed it to him, then retrieved the other for herself. “Let’s go out by the fire where it’s warm,” she suggested, as she towel-dried her wet hair. “I’m not done with you yet.”
Doubts and an unmistakable reserve dropped over his features, as if he dreaded the possibility of her pursuing the silent conversation that had transpired between them minutes ago. She did plan to find out what kept him and his emotions at arm’s length, but not tonight, when he was already on the defensive.
Turning on the light, she blew out the candle and smiled at him as she wrapped her towel around her chest and tucked the end between her breasts. “I was thinking of giving you a nice, long massage, and you can repay the favor by cuddling with me.” Nothing threatening at all, just lots of intimacy she hoped to use for emotional artillery later.
A hint of a smile lifted his mouth. “Sounds like a fair trade.”
“I think so.” Taking his towel from him, she slung it around his waist and secured the end at his hip. “Don’t bother putting any clothes on. You go build another fire, and I’m going to see if I can find some lotion to use.”
With a nod, he left. She perused the items in the medicine cabinet, but didn’t find what she was searching for. There were various toiletries beneath the sink, and just as she reached for a bottle of moisturizer, she knocked over a small, flat rectangular box and read the universal word Trojan emblazoned across the front. She picked up the carton, turned it upside down, and a foil packet fell into her hand.
A single condom. Feeling giddy at the resource she’d discovered, and the ammunition it provided toward shattering Marc’s control, she decided to save her treasure for a very special moment. She knew exactly where she’d hide the prophylactic, so it would be handy and nearby when she needed the protection.
An elated smile spread across her face. When the time came, none of Marc’s excuses would suffice, and he wouldn’t be able to deny her.