Naughty Little Secret (14 page)

“Let me get this straight. You’d rather be with some guy who sneaks into your house and tells you he loves you, even if you don’t know or love him back?”

Damn, when had Kat gotten so logical? “No. You’re right.”

“For a change, I am. And if you want Noah for yourself, you need to make a move before this bitch gets her claws in him. See if he feels anything for you before he gets too tangled up in this other woman.”

“Make a move, how? Like walk up to him and tell him I fantasize about him? He’s talking about marriage and babies with this woman. He wants to settle down. I was thinking more…fling.”

“Until this other woman says ‘I do,’ Noah is still an unattached man.

Honey, if he’s got hormones, he’ll do fling.”

“Maybe it’s not smart. He’s my boss and Tim’s buddy. Maybe I should just get over it.”

“I know you. You’re not going to just get over it. And maybe it’s good you start dating or flinging or something again. Hell, prior to this brain blip, you’d lived like a nun since the divorce,” Kat pointed out. “Look, the boss-buddy thing you’ll have to work around. Don’t bring it up at the office. Don’t mention Tim. But if Noah rebuffs you, at least you’ll know,

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right? If he doesn’t…could be a hot night for my slightly older and uglier sister.”

At their running joke about which of the sisters was the uglier, Lauren snorted. “Yeah, uglier? Who went dateless on prom night? Not me…”

“Ugh! Always the same argument. Rub in it, why don’t you? Hey, at least I’m not so sex-starved that I’m letting some horny cat burglar in my panties.”

“That’s low. I won’t let him in my panties again.”

“You see the wisdom of genius Kat’s advice, do you?”

“Genius is a bit thick, but yeah. I think so.”

“Go get rid of the psycho and bag your man, tigress.”

Tigress? At the moment, she felt like a whipped, wet kitten. That wasn’t any way to get Noah to notice her as a woman. But the reality of Kat’s advice was sinking in. She had to make a pass at Noah. Oh, yikes!

Lauren grimaced. The very thought made her palms sweat and her stomach turn with nerves. “I’m, um…on it.”

“You don’t sound on it; you sound reluctant.”

Her sister was so perceptive sometimes. “Noah invited the girls and I over for a swim and a barbeque on Thursday evening. What should I do?”

“Really?” Kat sounded as if that was a vastly interesting fact. “Has he ever done that before?”

Lauren thought, then frowned. “No.”

“Interesting… Very interesting, in fact. Okay, let’s talk strategy. I have ideas…”

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Shelley Bradley

On Wednesday night, Lauren sagged into her Jacuzzi tub, glass of wine in one hand, and enjoyed the relaxing vanilla sugar bath salts. The candle sat on the counter near the door, flame bobbing as it burned, adding a golden sliver of light.

Well, she would be enjoying it if she could take her mind off Noah.

And Mr. Mysterious. And her conversation with Kat.

And the mess her life had become.

At least, nothing was wrong with the girls, thank goodness. Her mother had wanted to keep them another day, which enabled Lauren to finish up a report at work so the focus groups could move forward. The extra time at the office had settled that part of her life. But now…with night descended and the loneliness creeping in, she didn’t want to be by herself.

That wasn’t accurate. Not for anything would she take Tim back. The idea of a bar and the kind of guy she might meet there left her cold. She wanted Noah, fiercely—but not when he wanted someone else.

To add to her confusion, sultry nights like this one made her body call for—crave—what Mr. Mysterious could give her. She’d promised Kate that she’d tell the stranger to take a hike, and if he appeared tonight, she’d do her best to keep that promise. But everything about him, from the way he mastered her body, to the hard feel of him all over, and the tangy-salt taste of his skin, was pure fantasy. Add her unruly

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imagination to the mix, the one that encouraged her to imprint Noah’s face on Mr. Mysterious’s body and…well, it was a good thing he hadn’t appeared last night. Or so far tonight. She felt vulnerable.

Weak.

And Lord knew, her stranger’s charm was potent.

Eyes closed, Lauren lifted the wine to her lips and finished off the last swallow of the dry, fruity blend.

In mid-swallow, she heard a creak, followed by a puff of air. By the time she opened her eyes, it was pitch black in the windowless bathroom. She set aside the glass and thrust back the curtain. The bathroom door was closed and the candle extinguished. No way could she see a thing.

Lauren gasped.

Her stranger was here. Suddenly, she knew it. She felt him in the air that vibrated, burned, between them. Her heart revved up like an F-22’s engine, ready to soar out of her chest. Her mind buzzed. What should she do? She couldn’t climb out of the tub and get past him in the narrow room without him knowing. But she couldn’t just surrender—no matter how appealing that choice sounded.

She was fucked, figuratively and literally.

“Lauren.”

His voice, that lust-gruff whisper. Mr. Mysterious. She exhaled, shaky, anxious…even as she felt parts south go all warm and wet at the very thought of his touch. Wetter still as she imagined Noah sneaking into her bathroom to touch her, have his wicked way with her.

“You scared me.” Her voice shook.

“You should know it’s me. You should know I can’t stay away from you for more than a night now that I know how perfectly you grip my cock. I need to fuck you too bad to stay away.”

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Shelley Bradley

His words would have melted her panties if she’d been wearing any.

But what about the way she’d rebuffed his declaration of love? She didn’t know much about this man, but she doubted he’d just decided to forget that little incident.

The rustle of cloth, the rasp of a zipper, the whooshing sound of denim hitting the floor.
Oh my God.
He was getting undressed.

“No. Don’t get naked. Don’t come any closer.”

“Too late,” he growled as he stepped into the tub, a foot on either side of her hips, then sank to his knees and covered her body with every hard inch of his own.

Sweet and forbidden as he hovered over her, all harsh breaths and tense need. Such a perfect fit. Feeling him against her did something to her. Not just her arousal, though she couldn’t deny hers was escalating faster than the price of oil. But her heart gave an unpleasant little thump at the thought of denying him.

But she had to stop this. “We can’t—”

“You made yourself perfectly clear on Monday night. No love. Fine.

Don’t keep your body from me. Just spread your legs and let me do everything I want to that sweet pussy…”

No.
The word was on the tip of her tongue…but she swallowed it when Mr. Mysterious whispered his wicked request against her mouth, then his lips crashed over hers, tongue urging her to open for him so he could ravage her with a ruthless kiss.

Wet, aggressive, he kissed her with scorching skill. Sinking into her mouth, farther with each pass of his lips, the kiss felt like he intended to brand her with his possession. He mated with her tongue, and she adopted his rhythm, arched toward him, burned for more. The feel of him amazed her, perfect and male, hungry and demanding, confident and determined. She could totally picture Noah behaving like this with a

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woman…and the fantasies of him here with her in the bathtub weren’t something she could stop. Or wanted to stop.

The insistent press of his lips smothering the little whimpers that escaped her throat echoed around them. Lauren raised her arms to clutch him. Blessedly bare. Bare back, hard and rippling with muscle when he moved. Bare, bulging shoulders so wide they nearly spanned the width of the tub. Bare face and head, devoid of a mask she noticed as she sank her fingers into his collar-length hair to feel the silky strands with just a hint of wave.

She could absolutely picture Noah here with her now. And she did, throwing herself into the kiss with all the frustrated need he roused that coursed through her.

“That’s it. Let me have your mouth, too. I need it. Then I’ll fuck you so hard and long until you come all over my cock. I’m going to make sure you know who that pussy responds to.”

Lauren whimpered again. Any other man she would suspect of bragging. Mr. Mysterious… If anyone could do as promised, it was him.

But wasn’t she supposed to be saying no? Resisting? Yes, but why?

The answer totally eluded her as he pinched suddenly tender nipples—

and every nerve ending in her breast remembered his rough, pleasure-inducing treatment from Monday night. They applauded the pinch and roll his fingers bestowed on the hard tips. Before she could stop herself, Lauren arched toward him for more.

Warm water sloshed around them as he readjusted himself, climbing higher up her torso and grabbing her head with a desperate grip. “I need your mouth now. Suck me.”

Then he was palming the back of her head with one hand and guiding his cock to her mouth with the other.

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Shelley Bradley

Lauren frowned. She didn’t want this. She didn’t. Oral sex was too intimate. She didn’t know him. Taking him into her mouth and pleasuring him would only make him more insistent that she belonged with him, to him. The intimacy of the act might make the foolish woman inside her think the same thing. She couldn’t risk it.

And yet, when the swollen velvety head of his cock brushed her lips, she opened, unable to resist just a taste. Salty, male, tantalizing.

Knowing she could make him leak before she’d even touched him gave her a little thrill.

After a shy flick of her tongue, a long groan spilled from his chest.

Lauren relished the sound way more than she ought to. His fingers tightened in her hair, urging her to take more of him, to establish a rhythm with speed and sizzle.

As she wrapped her tongue around the head on the next upstroke, he hissed and cursed and fucked her mouth as if he’d never get enough.

“Yes,” he groaned. “Damn, that’s good… Suck me, sugar.”

Sugar
. He’d called her sugar again. Just like Noah. Not totally uncommon for southern men, and she did hear a bit of Texas in some of his growled words. But that wasn’t odd here in Dallas.

Did you hear Noah in his voice because you wish so badly that he was
Mr. Mysterious?

If she was honest with herself, likely yes. But with Noah panting after Divorcée Barbie, talking babies and marriage, the chances of him being in her home, in her tub—hell, in her mouth—moaning and clasping her hair in his fists—that was pretty slim.

Lauren pushed the thoughts from her mind. She couldn’t smell anything—weird defect in her genetic make up—but she could absolutely taste her Mr. Mysterious. Clean skin, a hint of salt and musk and male that drove her completely wild.

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She reached up to cup his testicles, which felt round and heavy as they lay in her palm. They drew up as she slicked her tongue up his shaft and curled over the sensitive head again, this time giving him a gentle nip of her teeth.

Mysterious hissed. “You’re flirting with danger now. Keep that up and you’ll stay there until you suck me dry.”

Crazy and wild, but his words sent a thrill through her. The thought of having the power and finesse necessary to bring this man to his knees—literally—ramped her up dangerously fast. Her breasts hung heavy, ached. Her sex clamped down with a hungry clench of need. She slipped a hand between her legs and fumbled around for her clit.

The sloshing water must have alerted him. Or was it her whimper when her fingers first made contact with the hard knot of need?

“You touching yourself?” At her nod, he panted, “Oh, yeah. That’s it.

Come with me.”

Rubbing furiously at her clit, Lauren’s need skyrocketed within seconds. Blood rushed through her body, heart pumping. Her stranger filled her mouth, leaking more fluid. Urgency flowed from his fingertips and his touch deep into her. She sucked harder, faster. He cursed and groaned, hardened again and pulsed on her tongue. He was seconds away, and desire clawed at her. She wanted this. For some reason, in that moment, she needed to know that she could send him into bliss the way he could do to her.

“Lauren.” He barely got her name out between harsh breaths.

“Ready?”

She moaned, dragging her fingertip over the swollen bud of nerves screaming to explode.

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Shelley Bradley

Seconds later, it did. She did, saturating her body with the white heat of lightning pleasure. He joined her, flooding her mouth with the salty taste of him, filling her ears with his ragged groans and a torn curse.

Triumph and elation swirled with an encroaching oh-shit feeling.

What had she done? Now she knew the taste of him and she’d want it again. She was supposed to be discouraging the man, sending him away.

Somehow she didn’t think that sucking him to an orgasm so hard he was still trying to find his breath was going to give him the “get lost” message.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she finally uttered.

Above her, his body tensed. “Because you don’t love me?”

“Because I don’t know you. This is insane! You keep sneaking into my house—”

“And you keep letting me into your bed, your body. Obviously, I’m not the only one out of my mind.”

“Oh, I agree. My behavior is completely mental. This needs to stop.”

He eased away, stood. The tub started to drain.

“Easy to say that after the orgasm, isn’t it?” he taunted. “Don’t make something out of nothing. You want to fuck and that’s it. I get it. I can be accommodating.”

No doubt, he could be extremely accommodating. But she still heard the anger in his voice. Nothing good could come from this.

“This isn’t a good idea,” she said gently.