His to Keep (Beauty and the Brit) (14 page)

Her neck begin to heat up. “Good.”

He sat there, legs wide apart, pants unzipped. He gave her a lazy, contented smile—possibly the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.

“Now it’s your turn.”

That’s when reality hit. Brynn was in the
backseat of a car
in
broad daylight
, parked at a red light right in the middle of the Strip. True, the windows were tinted, the partition was in place, but it pulled Brynn back to her senses.

She rubbed a hand over her mouth. Her lips felt dry and she was parched. “Um, maybe another time? Thank you, though.” That after-sex awkwardness began to penetrate the space between them. Now Brynn felt shy and strange and timid. She pushed off Iain’s legs and swung back into the seat, farther away from him this time, practically hugging the door handle.

Iain’s voice was soft as he tucked himself in and zipped up his fly. “Not happening, Brynn.”

She stared out the window, at the flow of traffic and the pedestrians who watched the majestic fountains in front of one of the casinos. “What’s not happening?”

“You’re not going to shut me out now. I won’t allow it. What you did—it was amazing.”

That experience
had
been incredible. And if he meted out orders in that sexy voice of his, she’d do it again. He was magnetic, pulling her into his force field, making her lose all sense of propriety.

She let out a startled gasp when his arm snaked around her waist. He slid her along the seat to his side and gathered her skirt in his fist, raising it by inches. Brynn smacked at his hand. “What are you doing?”

He leaned down and whispered, “Spread your legs.” When she hesitated, he bit down on the outer shell of her ear, gently, but she knew he meant business. Tingles sparked through her body. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” Iain wasn’t through with her. That blow job had been a prelude.

What was he going to do to her? Finger her as he had last night? That had been fabulous. But she was in a car, zipping toward downtown, the driver a mere foot away. Common sense told her to stop, but somehow, knowing the risks made it even more tempting, which didn’t make sense. Iain must have been some kind of sexual wizard, compelling her to do things she’d never dreamed of. Still, having already gone this far, Brynn couldn’t help herself. She craved more. She was unfulfilled, and Iain was sitting right here, willing to take care of her.
So let him.

With her pulse racing, Brynn complied, spreading her knees wide. In some ways, this was more dangerous than taking him in her mouth. Being on the receiving end, opening herself up, left her vulnerable—and so turned on that heat flooded her pussy.

Once again, Ian began lifting her skirt. She swallowed as the material climbed higher, exposing her calves, her knees, and finally her tanned thighs, all the way up to her waist. Yep, way more vulnerable.

“Take your knickers off.”

“What?” She inclined her head and gazed up at him. He simply flicked his eyebrow, daring her to disobey. But the more imperious Iain became, the freer Brynn felt. When he took command, it liberated her, allowing her to be more courageous.

With only the briefest pause, she shifted her hips up and wiggled out of her panties, dropping them on the car floor. She thought she’d been exposed before. Nope.
This
was exposed. The cool air met her heated core, sending shivers all over her body.

Continuing to hold her skirt in his hand, Iain leaned closer and traced the tip of his nose along her cheek. “You’re fucking lovely. Every bloody inch of you.”

The way he looked at her, Brynn almost believed it. She was breathing so heavily, she couldn’t catch her breath. She waited, her hands clenched into fists, anxious to see what he’d do next. Whatever it was, she was going to love it.

“Touch yourself. Glide a finger over your pussy.”

She hadn’t been expecting that. Why did he want her to do this?
Could
she do it? Touch herself in front of him? It was so intimate—more so than swallowing him.

Iain’s mouth found her earlobe. When he sucked on it, she squirmed a bit and closed her eyes.

“Go on, pet. I want to watch.” That accent struck something inside of her, made her melt like chocolate. At the sound of his voice, she turned into a shameless, throbbing, sexual being. Her entire pussy ached, needing to be filled, and every time he uttered something in that deep, English accent, she pulsed a little more.

Yes, she could do this. Iain was in charge, so Brynn didn’t have to be. She unclenched her right hand, and with tentative movements, slid a finger down her slick folds. She tilted her head back as she brushed over her clit. It was swollen, pounding in time with her heart. A moan escaped her.

“Open your eyes, Brynnie. Look at me.”

Her lids flickered open, and her eyes met his. He focused on her completely. His gaze darted over her face, then down to her hand. “Finger yourself. Make yourself come.”
If only she could
. “But don’t take your eyes off me.”

He was so stunning, she never wanted to look at anyone else. That masculine beauty was the stuff of fantasies—Brynn’s fantasies. It was incredibly erotic, sitting here, stroking herself per Iain’s instructions while he looked on. So…naughty. As she continued to stare at him, she slipped her middle finger inside her.

Iain watched it glide into her pussy, his attention rapt. Parting his lips, he palmed Brynn’s bare thigh. His skin was hot, and when he absentmindedly rubbed his hand across her leg, the sensations were almost too much. His eyes, his touch, her own finger—sensory overload.

“Now add another one.” His breath was choppy, his words barely a whisper.

A second finger joined the first. She worked them in and out, remembering how Iain’s fingers had touched her there. Maybe she’d be able to come this time. With Iain, anything was possible, and she desperately needed the release. Brynn arched her back as her fingers dove in deeper. She felt a small storm brewing inside her, but she’d gotten this close before with few results.

“Bloody hell, Brynn. You’re making me hard all over again. Don’t stop. Keep going.”

Oh, that voice. Her movements grew frantic. That illusive rush started to build, just a little bit. But before Brynn could grasp hold of it and climb higher, the car drew to a stop. Just like that, the storm ended abruptly, snapping Brynn out of an erotic trance. Now she was wide-awake and utterly self-conscious. Her hand slowed.

What if the driver lowered the window? What if he hopped out and opened the door to find her naked from the waist down? Shit. Any hopes of having an orgasm came to a screeching halt. As usual.

“Don’t stop,” he said.

This time, Brynn didn’t listen. She withdrew her hand, hastily grabbed her panties, and wiggled into them. Yanking her skirt from his hand, she jerked the gauzy orange material over her legs, more embarrassed than she’d ever been in her life.

You loved every moment of that.
Yes, all right, she had. But it was so…unlike her. Brynn didn’t do crazy sexual things in broad daylight. Hell, she didn’t do crazy sexual things in the dark. Since meeting Iain Chapman, her world had spun out of control.

“Why did you stop when I told you not to?” he asked. “You know I’m going to have to punish you later.”

That should have been a threat, yet to Brynn, it sounded like a delightful promise. What would he do, spank her? Tie her up and have his wicked way with her?
That would do for starters.
God, what was wrong with her?

She held her body stiffly against his, then tried to scoot away, seeking some physical distance. When he was touching her, it was hard to think straight. But his arm tightened around her middle, keeping her by his side.

“This was a mistake. I was unprofessional. Let’s go see your building, Iain, and then I need to get back to the office. Now that I know what kind of trouble TDTC is in, I need to burn through as many jobs as I can.”

He surprised her again when he reached out, took her chin in his hand, and swiveled her head in his direction. “That’s not what this is about. Stop using work as an excuse. What we did was
not
a mistake. You enjoyed it, whether you want to admit it or not. So what’s the problem, Brynn? We’re not getting out of this car until you tell me what’s really going on.”

She searched his eyes. He was serious. He wouldn’t let her out of this car until she told him the truth. Yanking her chin from his hand, she twisted against his arm. “I don’t want to tell you. It’s embarrassing.”

“What could it possibly be, love? You can tell me anything. I won’t laugh. I won’t judge.”

She shook her head, refusing to look anywhere in his direction. But his strong arm gently squeezed her torso, weakening her resolve.
Way to stay strong, jellyfish.
“I have issues.”

“What issues? Health issues?”

Brynn elbowed him in the ribs. “No. Doofus.”

“I’m not sure what the hell that means, but it didn’t sound like an endearment. Come on, tell me. I’m dying of suspense here.”

“I’d really rather not.”

When Iain’s lips landed on that tender spot beneath her ear, Brynn sighed and closed her eyes. “That’s so not fair.”

“I never play fair,” he murmured against her neck. “I play to win.”

Lifting her hand, she threaded her fingers through his short hair. He smelled good enough to eat. Oh wait, she’d already done that.

“Tell me, love. What’s troubling you, eh?”

Might as well spill. He was too tenacious to let it go. “I have orgasm trouble. They’re difficult to achieve. All right? Satisfied?” This was it. Her moment of utter and complete humiliation. Iain Chapman, the sexiest and toughest man she’d ever met knew her secret. Brynn wished she could turn invisible. Or at least make a mad dash for freedom, but she was stuck in the car with Iain’s arm latched around her. And he kept kissing an erogenous area that made her dizzy with desire.

Eventually, Iain raised his lips from her ear. His warm breath fanned her skin, sending quivers skidding across her nape. “So last night was your first? That’s what you’re telling me?”

“No. Well, my first with a partner.” He was silent so long, she chanced a peek at him. His brow was furrowed.

“It was because I pinned you down. You need that bit of dominance.”

Brynn slowly nodded. “How did you know?”

“I was paying attention. There’s nothing wrong with a little bondage, love.”

Brynn flinched. “I don’t like to think of it as bondage. That’s too hard-core.”

“Right. Just a few commands, then. Holding you down a bit. Keeping you still while I ravage you senseless?”

“That sums it up.”
Oh God. Let me die now. Right this minute, so that I don’t have to continue this mortifying conversation.
She waited a moment, but her heart kept right on beating. A little unsteady, but given the topic, that seemed reasonable.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, love. I like being in charge, and you like it when I take control. And you came. Where’s the problem?”

Although she was still mortified, Brynn felt a small amount of relief, too. Iain understood. They got off on the same thing. “Apparently for me, it’s not a fun, trendy thing to try. I
need
it. It just seems weird. Like I’m not normal.”

“No one’s normal, pet, and if they are, God, how boring that must be. So what about when you wank off? Do you have an orgasm then?”

And the hits just kept coming. Brynn covered her face with both hands. “Occasionally but usually not.”

“Vibrators?” he asked.

“I’ve tried several. Nothing worked.”

“Hand?” He tugged on Brynn’s wrists until she capitulated and uncovered her heated cheeks.

“That’s gotten the best results. But only a few times.”

“Have you concentrated on your clit?”

Brynn bowed her head, letting the veil of curls hide her face. “Yes, Iain.”

“G-spot?”

Gazing up, she shook her hair back. “I don’t believe in it. It’s like a sexual Santa Claus—it doesn’t exist.”

He narrowed his eyes and nodded. What was he doing, making a mental catalog?

“But you’ve never come with a partner. Not even with oral?”

“Iain. I don’t want to talk about my history with you. Okay?”

He paused a moment. “So, oral?”

“No. I’ve never come with a partner. Not oral, not fingers, not tongues. Dicks. Vibrators. Dildos. Just on my own, by myself.”

“Until me.” He sounded so smug. “And how many dicks are we talking about?”

“Trust a man to focus on that.” She tried to pull away from him but his arm became a solid band across her waist. She slapped at his hands, but it had no effect on him at all.

“How many?”

“I’ve had two boyfriends. Now, can we go inside?”

“And neither one could get the job done.” There was a hint of pride in his tone. “I told you we were inevitable. I’m the right man for this, Brynnie.”

Brynn stopped breathing. The “right man” implied all sorts of things to her: marriage, kids, a life together. Iain Chapman was not the right man for any of those jobs. But every time they were together, he felt more than right. He felt perfect.