Deceived (25 page)

“Don’t count your cash before the verdicts come in, counselor.” In response to his laughter, and as the driver turned into the airport, she added, “And it sure sounds like we shouldn’t be sitting so close, because if we’re on opposing sides in that many cases, we have current day conflicts, regardless of what may have transpired between your grandfather and mine, and your father and mine.”

“You have outside firms that can handle the cases, and I can let other lawyers handle them on my end. We can build Chinese walls, if we need to.” He shrugged. “And as far as what transpired between our grandfathers, well, the past is the past. We can’t change what happened. We can only figure out what happened, figure out whether any of it is relevant to today, and do something about it if it is.”

That Brandon had an answer for everything wasn’t bad. Especially not when he was logical, when he articulated such reasonable thoughts, and when she was sitting so close to him that she could feel his warmth. He smelled of woodsy soap, vanilla, and clove, and the aroma inspired her body to crave the pleasure that he’d given her the night before, regardless of the multitude of conflicting interests they had.

The driver parked the car next to the jet, then stepped out. Brandon bent closer to her. Her heart stuttered as his green eyes found hers. He grazed his lips on her cheek. She turned her lips to his, but he didn’t kiss her. “Our hour and a half plane ride is about to be an hour and a half too long,” he said, “I don’t have enough willpower when you look at me like that.”

“I don’t want you to have willpower,” she said. “I want to forget about how much I miss Collette. I want to forget everything that Rorsch said.” She dropped her voice to a whisper, “I want something worth remembering, like what we did last night, and I won’t ask you to stop.”

He gave her a serious look, studying her until his cheeks were flushed. He guided her into the jet, and, when the pilots disappeared into the cockpit and shut the door, he pulled her to him and gave her a hungry, mouth-wide-open kiss. She lifted her arms to his shoulders and rubbed against him. Their clothes separated them, but didn’t conceal his desire for her. He reached behind her and gripped her butt, then lifted her against the wall of the jet. While he held her, his fingers started inching her dress upwards, exposing her legs, then her thighs, then somehow, her legs were hooked behind his hips and the only thing that covered her sex was a sliver of lacy thong. He pushed it aside, groaning as his fingertips slid through her moist folds. She shivered, then moaned louder as he dabbled in her wetness, swirling a fingertip into her. He gently lowered her to a standing position, reached for his wallet, looked into it, then kicked the table’s pedestal as he dropped the wallet on the table. “I can’t believe this.”

“What?” she asked.

“No condoms.”

The pilot announced over the intercom, “We will be taxiing in a minute.”

Brandon sat down with a thud at the table that they’d been sitting at on the ride from New Orleans to Dallas. She sat and leaned into him. He gently pushed her away. “No condoms, no sex. Fasten your damn seatbelt.”

“Pregnancy’s not a problem. I’ve been on the pill since I was nineteen.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“Acne. My mother wanted me to look perfect for my debut year.”

“So she orchestrated the metamorphosis of a chubby, acne-ridden bookworm into you?”

She laughed. “So, you listened when I explained the circumstances of how I came to be a twenty-seven-year-old virgin?”

“I listen to everything that you say.” His eyes were so serious they stole her breath.

“I had curves, but too many in all the wrong places. I could afford the best clothes, but I was too self conscious to wear them. Carolyn and I protested the extreme efforts,” Taylor said, “but my mother, like my father, was a strong force, and I succumbed. After all, I wanted to be pretty for my debut year. My mother took charge with diet doctors, exercise trainers, and, because I was prone to acne, the pill, and it helped me with cramps, so I’ve stayed on it. So,” she said, leaning towards him, as the plane started taxiing, “I give you permission to have sex with me without a condom.”

He scowled at her. “Condoms don’t simply prevent pregnancy.”

“I know that, but you normally wear them, don’t you?”

“Always. Even with Lisa.”

“Given the circumstances of my virginity, and your,” she felt her cheeks flush with heat, “size, won’t it will feel better if you’re not wearing one?”

He unfastened his seat belt, then hers, and guided her into the jet’s rear compartment, shutting the door. As the jet began its ascent Brandon untied the halter top of her sundress and slid it down to her waist. She shivered with anticipation as he took off her strapless bra then spent long minutes nibbling and sucking at her breasts. He pushed the sundress down her hips, removing her panties with the dress, then slipped off her sandals before he planted a trail of kisses from her breasts to her belly, and lower. When she moaned, he stood and stripped, exposing his lean, muscular, painted body. He was erect and straining for her. He sat on the sofa and guided her into a kneeling position, with her knees on either side of him. He slid his fingers through the folds of her sex, then applied steady pressure between her legs with his thumb.

“Oh,” she said as her body pulsed with need. “That feels so good.”

He inserted two fingers into her. The pressure of his knuckles, inside of her, sent shock waves through her body.

“Yes,” she whispered, as her nerve endings sizzled.

He rubbed the hot, smooth head of his penis against her most sensitive flesh while his fingers thrust deep inside of her. “Oh,” she said, “Oh Brandon.” She gripped his shoulders, as his mouth latched onto her breast. Her body jolted with pleasure as she started to climax. “Oh. My,” she said, “God.” He removed his fingers, shifted his hips, reached for her hand and wrapped it on his thick shaft. As he pushed into her, he let her control how much and how fast. It felt great, until he was a few inches inside of her, then it felt like he was ripping her apart. Blinding pain suddenly outweighed her pleasure.

Not again, she thought, as she froze.

“Taylor?”

“Just do it,” she whispered, “fast.”

He put both hands on her hips, gripped her tight, then paused. Green eyes locked on hers, questioning. When she nodded, he pushed her hips down. She gasped. Where pleasure had hit her with lightning bolts, pain sizzled. He held her tight and moved both of them, so that he was laying on top of her on the sofa, never slipping out of her as he kissed away tears that she had realized were falling. “Are you okay?” She nodded, but the real answer was no. He moved slowly, barely an inch in, an inch out. “Does this hurt?”

It burned, but she could bear it. She hoped that it didn’t take him too long to have an orgasm, because his thrusts were hot-friction torture. One. Two. She drew a deep breath. Three. She stopped counting as she tried to think of a way to forget about the pain. She opened her eyes, wondering how long they’d been closed. Worried green eyes looked into hers. A pulse throbbed at his temple. His teeth were clenched. His hips were still. “I’ll stop.”

“No. Just go slower.”

“If I go any slower I’ll die.”

“This is fine then,” she said. “Really.”

He shook his head. “I’m not going for fine.” He was hard, throbbing, and deep inside of her, but he stopped thrusting. He moved his mouth to her breast and licked and nibbled at her nipples. He balanced on one forearm and his toes, and reached between her legs with his free hand, rubbing her clitoris with a soft, whisper-like touch that finally coaxed faint ripples of pleasure through her body. As the ripples grew, she forgot about the pain. When she moaned, he started thrusting again, slowly. He glanced into her eyes, gauging her reaction. She loved the concern that she saw there, the worry for her that gave him the willpower to barely move his hips, even though beads of perspiration had formed on his forehead and on his shoulders. Tension rippled through the muscles in his arms and his chest as he made only tiny thrusting movements and kept his weight off of her. The pain diminished, and as more waves of pleasure broke, she was able to relax. Once she relaxed, the hurt disappeared. Tiny waves of electricity rippled from her core, and, finally, her hips moved with him, allowing her to absorb his full, warm erection.

“That’s it,” he said, as her muscle-clenching resistance disappeared. He pushed in a little bit deeper. Once. Twice. “Hurt?”

“No,” she said, “really. No.”

He almost pulled out of her, then he went in a little faster and a little harder. “Feel okay?”

Against his hard, smooth flesh, her walls felt tight and hot, and a fresh wave of arousal made her wet. Her walls flexed with pleasure, drawing him in.

“Talk to me,” he said.

She whispered, “I didn’t know,” she moaned as he slid deeper into her, “that it could feel this good.” He moved faster and harder. She spread her legs wider. She met his thrusts with her hips, sighing louder each time he slid into her.

“You feel like heaven,” he said.

She lifted herself onto her elbows and watched him pull out of her, then push in. She let her head fall back as he planted his mouth on her breast. Electricity sizzled across her body as he thrust deep into her and he nibbled at one nipple, then the other. “Oh. Oh. Ooooohhhhh,” she said, unable to say anything else, until passion and arousal came together and, with his penis deep inside of her, the tension broke. She screamed, “Brandon. Oh. Oh. Brandon.”

He lifted his face and stared into her eyes, as he thrust, fast and deep. He ground his hips into hers, never breaking eye contact, until he shuddered and moaned. When he stopped thrusting, and when her own spasms stopped, she buried her face in his shoulder, her cheeks flushed and hot. She caught her breath. “Oh God,” she said, “I screamed.”

He lifted her chin so that he could look into her eyes. “I love the way you moan, the way you talk when you’re coming, and how you sound when you scream. It drives me crazy. No one heard you. No one but me.” He gave her a deep, lingering kiss. He rolled with her, then lifted her so that she lay on top of him. He positioned her legs so that they were draped on either side of him, her hips were pressed into his, and he was cupping her butt with his hands, kneading her flesh with strong fingers. His eyes were intense. She thought he had climaxed, but he was still hard and deep inside of her.

She asked, “Did you have an orgasm?”

He chuckled. “Questions, questions, questions. That’s my favorite one so far. Yes. I did.” He kissed her, deep. “But I’ve been aroused since last night.” He broke the kiss and looked into her eyes. “Can you handle more?”

When she nodded, he pressed her hips into his, pushing deeper, then easing the pressure, then doing it slowly, again, and again. Her body responded with none of the prior pain and only warm, wet pleasure. An involuntary moan escaped from her. God. She bit her lip and pressed her palm against her mouth, trying to keep quiet. He took her palm away and held both of her hands behind her back in one of his hands. The flight had been smooth. Now, the jet bumped a bit, enough to make her slide down him, hard, with no resistance.

“Oh. Oh,” she said, “oh yes, Brandon,” when she didn’t mean to say anything at all. He gave her a deep kiss, gliding his tongue over hers. He let go of her hands, lifted his hands to knead her breasts, and rubbed the tips of his fingers on her erect nipples. She was on her knees and balanced on his chest with the palms of her hands. He raised his hips, with his feet pressed into the couch, and lifted her with him so that he was inside of her as deep as he could go.

Waves of pleasure, more intense than before, built from inside as she rode him. “Brandon,” she said. “Oh.” She bit her lip, trying not to scream, then gave up. “Oh. Yessss. Brandon.”

He groaned, gripping her and guiding her hips, slowly, so that she slid up and down his shaft, then plunging deep inside of her as he pushed her hips forward and back. She knew by the way his eyes were half closed, by the way his breath quickened, what felt good to him, and what felt great. Their bodies melded perfectly, and the grinding movement that felt great to him made her quiver. “Oh,” she said, “You. Feel. So. Good. “Oh,” she whimpered, as she climaxed, “Yes. Yes. Brandon. Yessss.”

He arched his back and held her hips tight against his. He was so engorged that she felt each spasm. This time, his orgasm was intense and lasted longer. After, he drew a deep breath, and held her close on top of him, his arms tight around her. Breathing, together, was all they could do. Before they could say anything, one of the pilots announced that they would be beginning their descent in a few minutes. Brandon gave her a long kiss, and said, “You’re amazing.” He started to disentangle his limbs from hers, and said, “Stay here. I’ll help you.”

At first, she didn’t understand why he wanted her to wait. She got to her feet and felt a way-late rush of modesty as she realized that their activities had produced more than a little moisture. She darted for the bathroom at the rear of the cabin.

With the bathroom door shut behind her, and with water running, she paused when she saw her flushed face and chest in the mirror. Her hair was wild. Her pupils were dilated. More red came to her cheeks. She’d been completely uninhibited. She had even screamed. More than once.

The jet’s descent reminded her that the real world was fast approaching and she inexplicably felt a sudden need to cry. She needed Collette, and she didn’t need to be in her father’s presence. She didn’t need to look at her father and wonder if Rorsch was correct, that somehow her father knew of the Hutchenson letter and hadn’t done anything about it. She needed not to have to rush home, get dressed, go to a party and make small talk to hundreds of people. She needed to enjoy the afterglow of making love for the first time, of the incredible feeling that came with having Brandon deep inside of her.