Brooke leafed through the pile of emails and then paused as she came upon one in particular. Her lips twisted in a half smirk. “Well aren’t you Seattle’s most beloved bachelor…?”
Ty glanced up from removing a cufflink. Music from the party below thumped through the floor and the lavish, imported rugs into the master suite. He said nothing.
“Oh I think I’ve found my favorite—” She cleared her throat and wiggled into the wingback armchair. “Your arrogance is only exceeded by the size of your head.”
“I’m glad this is fun for you.”
She laughed at the back of her throat and shuffled the papers. “Okay, I get that you need security, still not convinced you need a live-in bodyguard but until we get some kind of system in place it’s probably not a terrible idea.”
Ty placed the cufflink on the marble fireplace mantel. He removed the other and shot her an expression of pure devilish triumph. “So you’re committing to stay?”
She sighed. “I guess. Just remember this isn’t a scene from Seducing the Nanny Volume Two. Sneak into my room during the night and something attached will get removed. Got it?”
Ty’s chest rumbled with a soft laugh and he set down the other cufflink. “Baby, I don’t seduce women while they’re sleeping. I find it much more rewarding to do it while they’re awake…”
Heat pooled in her stomach. “Seducing? I thought you swore to behave?”
“I said I wouldn’t touch you unless—you ask for it.” His fingers moved to the button on his chest.
The heat in her belly spat shards into her limbs. “Ty…”
He popped the buttons on his shirt in a few flicks and her warning evaporated. A chest as crisply cut as it had felt through fabric emerged. She eyed his magnificence. Every taut line. Firm pecs, the line between his abs, the jutting peaks of his—holy-hip-flexors!
She turned her face away, a burn rising over her skin. “What the hell are you doing?”
His footsteps padded beside her. “Relax, I’m just taking a shower. We’ll stay here at my family estate tonight. We can go back to my apartment in the morning.”
Brooke’s gaze snapped back to him. A jolt hit her at the sight of that bare chest, close enough to catch the subtle scent of his deodorant. “No.” She blinked then fixed her focus well above his collarbone. “I mean, all my stuff has been dropped off at your apartment already. I don’t even have anything to sleep in.”
One dark eyebrow quirked and his smile swept over his face to steal her breath.
“Well, we can’t have you sleeping nude.”
He draped the shirt in his hand over her shoulder. Her back flew off the chair at the touch. The shirt pooled in her lap. His smile smoothed into something deeper before he turned toward the adjoining room.
Damn her eyeballs for having a mind of their own because they sucked in the sight of his retreating back despite the voice in her head screaming don’t-fucking-look-at-the-pretty.
The door shut with a click but she continued to stare at the spot he’d gone through. So this was his plan—death by rippling muscle exposure. A breath squeezed between her lips. A day ago she would’ve sworn she was immune, but one look at Ty and she knew it wouldn’t take much to have her folding like a cheap beach chair.
This was a bad idea. She should get up and leave now. Clearly Ty intended to twist his promise.
The shirt burned in her lap. Still warm from him. Still smelling of him. The tang of cologne sent images of a kiss—a kiss that should have been impossible—shooting over her senses. She’d kissed him. Kissed him and loved every moment of it. Up until the point he stopped behaving.
She stared at the bathroom door, unable to escape the knowledge that he was naked in there. Naked and most likely getting wet. A shiver caressed her skin. Lingering tension corded through her body. Her nipples grew tight, her pussy wet and throbbing. What the hell was happening to her? She didn’t know her own body anymore. She slid a hand under the shirt in her lap and placed her fingers over her mound through her dress.
For the first time in years the place she held ached with budding pleasure. Her chest tightened. She wasn’t as broken as she’d thought. One day she might even be normal. She remembered Ty’s face when she’d told him to behave. The secret thrill at the power she’d claimed. He almost had behaved. Maybe he could next time? He wanted her but exactly what would he be willing to do to get her? She shook herself and pulled her hand from between her legs. What was she thinking? The things teasing her mind were far from “normal”.
But then what the hell is normal?
Ty leaned his arms against the wet room wall and braced himself under the stream of water. She was in the next room. After all these years she was right there in the next room. So what the hell was he doing in the shower by himself? Every one of his muscles strained against the urge to barge back in there and finish what they’d started.
Patience, Ty.
There was something holding her back—whatever it turned out to be he’d make it his mission to find and destroy it. Because she was his whether she liked it or not. The day of his accident had been destiny making itself known. That day told them what was meant to be—what would be as soon as she gave in.
The water rained hot on his back until his skin went numb. She wanted him as much as she’d sworn she had five years before—the truth was there in that kiss. His cock hardened as if it had been injected with a shot of liquid metal. He wrapped his palm around the shaft. That goddamn kiss. The way she’d told him to behave then kissed him as if her life depended on it this time. That was the sweet, bossy angel he remembered.
He’d always been the kind of man who liked to take charge. Yet there was something un-fucking-believably sexy about a woman with the nerve to stare a man like him in the eye and tell him to be a good boy, to behave. Oh yeah, that memory would be keeping him up—literally—for many nights to come. He squeezed his cock and groaned into his arm.
He would keep his word, respect her boundaries, that is until he found a way around them.
The wait might kill him.
The door creaked. He froze, releasing his cock. Cool air swept over the back of his knees. He turned. She stood in the doorway. The sight of her nearly tore his heart from his chest and his cock from his body. She was wearing his shirt.
My fucking shirt.
Legs bare, top buttons undone, open enough to expose the valley between her breasts.
“Don’t move.” She held out her palm, radiating strength even while looking like the prettiest thing in the world in the oversized shirt. “I have something to say and if you listen and be good, I’ll stay.” She paused, her hand on the doorknob. “But—you don’t listen—don’t behave—that’s the end of it and we don’t play. Ever.”
His chest thumped in rhythm with his pulsing cock. He didn’t know what her game was but he’d do whatever it took for a chance to be in it. Hell, he’d lay himself at her pretty little feet if she just gave him the chance. Her fingers hovered on the door handle. No way would he give her reason to leave. Whatever she wanted, he’d give it.
But if she was bluffing, trying to scare him off with her dominating act, she was fresh out of luck.
There’s nothing he wouldn’t do to have her.
The steam from the shower clogged up her lungs, thick with the scent of his body wash. She’d barged in full of conviction. Full of determination to take this first step. She’d even gotten out her first rehearsed lines. But her fingers shook on the door handle and the urge to run trembled in her kneecaps. Worse, the bathroom turned out to be a wet room—no shower screen between her and the very naked, very big man.
The vision of his bare chest, slick with moisture, battered her creeping fear to the side with something more powerful. Just not enough to convince her she could actually do this.
He said nothing, just stared at her as if an apparition had manifested in his bathroom. Could he play by her rules? Otherwise there’d be no doing anything. She might be brave enough to take this small leap but there was a definite limit to her nerve. Her fingers tightened on the handle. That limit would be reached with him taking a single step he wasn’t instructed to take.
“Okay.”
“What?” She blinked. Had she heard him say that? Okay, with a straight face, without a shred of challenge?
“I’m listening.”
Brooke forced herself to stand, not sag, against the door. She lifted her chin. “Stay still. Only move when I tell you to. The only way this works is if I’m in control. You don’t talk and we never speak of this afterward.” She uncurled her fingers from the door handle. “Can you do that? Can you do exactly what you’re told and not a thing more?”
His nostrils flared.
“Because if you can’t, I’m out that door, no take two.”
He stiffened and guilt wound its way down her spine. This was selfish. An ultimatum. My-way or no-way. Maybe too weird, too kinky for him. But this was the best she could do.
“This is what I have, Ty; this is all I can give. I’m sorry if it’s not enough. If you’re not into it, we don’t do it. Simple.”
He held her gaze. “One thing I have plenty of, Brooke, is discipline. Give me your worst.”
Her heart rose a little higher in her ribcage. Shit, he’d actually agreed. A part of her had been convinced he would turn her down and she would be able to walk out with the comfort of knowing she had at least tried.
That she wasn’t defeated.
She closed her eyes. No she wasn’t defeated. Not defeated starting now. She would have her moment with this sexy-as-hell man and nothing could stop her. She opened her eyes.
“Take one, just one small step closer, out of the water.”
He moved, taking his step in one graceful movement, and stood glistening only a few short feet away her. His bare skin, the rivulets of water trickling over him, pulled her gaze over his flesh.
She did the one thing she hadn’t dared since stepping into the bathroom—let her gaze fall below his chest. The world dipped.
Sweet Jesus!
A thin trail of hair led down his chest, over his belly button and thickened to a curling thatch between his legs, drawing her eye to its center—and the monster protruding from there. Her breathing accelerated, making her head light. She wouldn’t look away. Made herself see it. This thing that had terrified her so much. This thing that now fascinated her so much. Hard, beautiful and ready. She knew what it wanted to do to her…
The water didn’t reach her side of the room but she could almost feel the spray. Hot and cold. Hot and cold. That’s how her skin felt. An intoxicating mix of need and terror. But all she could do was stare at his cock—shamelessly. Somehow she tore her gaze away and let it travel the length of him. Her attention caught just below his knee. A matrix of scars wrapped around his shin. Some deep, thick and purple, and thinner white ones that looked surgical. He hadn’t shown her those when he’d lifted his pant leg.
His hands curled at his sides and she jerked her gaze to his face. His features were tight, his color high. Her gaze, her looking at him intimately, her seeing his scars, all affected him. It wasn’t just desire coloring his skin, tightening his brow—there was that hint of vulnerability she’d glimpsed before. She affected him. This strong, powerful man put himself in her hands—at her disposal.
The air in the room lightened and the hesitation clutching her loosened its grip. This wasn’t just about her anymore. This wasn’t just about conquering her fear.
This was about him.
She was in charge. She was responsible for him. For his feelings. For not hurting him.
For his pleasure.
With that knowledge everything changed.
“Get back under the water and wash yourself.”
He slid back into the shower stream then pumped a squirt of soap into his palm and scrubbed his chest with his hands.
“No.”
His hands stilled.
“Do it slowly—” She swallowed over her drying tongue. “Do it as if it’s my hands on you.”
He didn’t move for several long heartbeats. He wouldn’t do this. No way. Ty wasn’t a let-me-be-your-show-pony kind of man. He was a let’s-fuck-against-the-wall kind of man. The way he’d danced with her—the way he’d led—proved that much.
He seized her gaze. Pinned her against the door with a look. She leaned into the wood, unable to tear herself from the tension flaring between them. His hands moved across his chest in slow, sweeping arcs. Suds flowed over tanned skin, taut muscle, in gentle actions that seemed to echo between her legs, in her chest. Every sweep of his hands across his soapy skin left no doubt in her mind that he was indeed doing it as if it were her hands on him. The way his chin lifted, the way he leaned into his own touch, the way he stared at her with each caress. He touched for both of them.
His movements flowed down, over ridged abs, over a stomach so perfect it made hers clench. The temperature in the room rose, suddenly hot enough to make the cotton covering her stick to her skin. Her hands followed his, stroking over her own tight belly through the shirt—his shirt.
He paused and filled his palm with more liquid then resumed his stroking, sliding his palms between his hips in a vee. Up and down. He slid his hands from hips to pelvis. Down to that patch of hair, down to the sides of the magnificent arching cock springing from the middle then back up again. Never touching it. Just moving around it. Making her look there, making her desperate for more. Making her hips rise away from the door.
He watched her—waiting.
She knew what she had to do but her voice seemed to have melted into her throat. His hands dipped again, brushing the sides of his cock. Her pussy tightened and she squeezed her thighs together.
“Touch it, Ty. Touch your cock like you want me to.”
His chest expanded and he wrapped his fist around the base of his cock.
“Show me what you like.”
He moved his hand from base to beautiful mushroomed head. His face rippled with pleasure, jaw pulsing, brow furrowing, eyes never leaving her. Brooke’s skin sizzled as if her insides were trying to break free. She slid her hand down over the shirt, over her panties. Her fingers brushed over ultra-sensitive flesh, sparking foreign bolts of bliss into her core. Her hips veered off the door again.
Ty groaned, his gaze tearing from her face to the hand between her thighs. He leaned his free hand on the wall then pumped his cock. The muscles in his chest and arms tightened. He sped up, stroking in short bursts. Brooke cupped herself, the pressure from her palm enough to make her squirm. He slowed down, bringing his cupped fingers over the head of his cock methodically. Brooke rotated her palm and pleasure unfolded from her slick folds all the way up to her heavy breasts, to her rigid nipples. A tight, unrelenting pleasure built layer by layer.
He devoured her with his gaze—hips, breasts, face and down again. She felt his eyes on her like a tormenting lick of electricity. He watched her. Measuring her reaction, responding to it. Slowing down and speeding up, balancing his satisfaction with hers.
Her mind left her body, floating somewhere higher where all she could see was him. His magnificent body rippling with bliss. His cock straining against the caress of his hand. In that elevated place it was the most beautiful moment of her life. Pure joy.
The steam burned like volcanic air in her lungs. She couldn’t get enough in. Everything was in a fever yet her body strained for more. She deepened her movements. Need battered her systems and her hips moved with a rhythm of their own. Ty let out a low, gruff sound, his head falling against his braced arm, his attention breaking from her, his movements slowing.
“Don’t you dare,” she breathed in a husky voice. “Don’t you hold back from me. Let go.”
His gaze flew to her again. Fixed on hers. A world of emotion flowed through that current. Stripped her as bare as he was. Intimate…as if he were inside her. He increased his pace. The veins in his neck stood out in pale cords. Her aching clitoris swelled against her brushing palm, mounting toward a new kind of pleasure.
Ty’s expression shattered in a brilliant crescendo of pleasure. His body shuddered and his cock jerked in his hand. Her system crashed. Ecstasy beckoned. A high, breathtaking peak that compelled her to jump. Her pussy hummed with electrified blood. But even as she balanced at the precipice of joy the fear of falling stole her nerve.
She snatched her hand from between her legs and clutched it to her chest, summoning fleeting control as instinctively as breathing. Her nerves spat and groaned, her body trembled but desire was only enough to shake—not to crumble—the fortress she had built around herself.
“Brooke…” Ty called, dropping his head back against the wall.
The sound of her name brought reality crashing around her. She stepped forward from the door. Ty lifted his arm to her. She fumbled for the handle, yanking it down and fleeing the collapsing walls of the wet room.