Nothing's Sweeter than Candy (12 page)

Brice grabbed her by the hand and dragged her down a long hallway that led to an obscenely huge bedroom that included sitting room space, a large master bath, huge walk-in closet, and sliding glass doors that led to a private terrace. Here, too, was the influence of elegance and art. Candace was again struck by the implications of wealth and privilege, and slowly started feeling like a small fish in a big pond. She was definitely swimming in waters way over her head.

“I don't have anything to change into,” she said hesitantly, feeling overwhelmed.

“Sure you do. The bag you packed at your place is still in the car. I'll have the valet service send it up.”

“Do you always think of everything, Brice?”

“I try to, but mostly it's habit. I told you, I'm methodical. Now, go ahead and get in the shower. I'll be right behind you as soon as I take care of those calls.”

“Oh? Does that mean you plan to join me?”

“You're damned right it does.” He gave her a look more meaningful and dangerous than she'd ever seen before. He pulled her into his arms and pressed a hard, demanding mouth against hers, urging her to open for him. She felt his shaft rise and stiffen again as he held her tightly. The urgency of his kiss rekindled her desire and turned her bones to mush—and pushed all those earlier uncertainties right out of her head. He pulled her skirt up and rubbed caressing strokes across her bare bottom, cupping and squeezing her cheeks, and delivered a quick stinging slap that tightened her channel and made it throb with anticipation.

“Now, go. Get in the shower,” he repeated gruffly, as he broke the kiss and rubbed her bottom to take the sting away. “And don't go too far without me.” He gave her a wink as he let her go and then left the room.

Minutes later, Brice walked into the bathroom to find Candace standing in the spacious shower stall, her head bowed beneath the spray and her hands pressed against the wall. The sight of her nude body elicited a smile and a small sigh of satisfaction. His head filled with a hundred thoughts, and his chest filled with nearly as many unexplained emotions. They'd only just met, and yet she had him doing things he'd never anticipated. She excited and stirred his imagination. That unexpected elevator adventure was probably only a fraction of what she was capable of, and he was anxious to discover whatever
else she had to offer.

He'd raided his mother's shower and brought with him lightly scented soap, shampoo, and creams to replace his masculine products. He undressed quickly, scooped up their clothes and bundled them together, and threw them outside in the hallway and locked the door. Joining her in the stall, he gave her a brief kiss on her shoulder before pouring shower gel into his hands and lathering her all over. He took his time, enjoying the slippery feeling of silky skin beneath his fingertips and savoring every stroke. He began with her shoulders, moving his hands in a circular massaging pattern, and slowly glided them down her back and over her hips. Then he turned her around to apply soap to her breasts, thighs, and between her legs, thoroughly enjoying his task. He liked the contrast of his white skin against her sun-bronzed complexion. Her full breasts and dark copper nipples enticed him.

“This is nice. You have great hands.” She sighed and relaxed into the sensation he created with talented fingers and gentle pressure.

“Yeah, I know. It gets better.”

“Better than this? I don't know if I can stand better.” She laughed softly.

“I'm willing to bet you can stand more than you think,” he responded in a low, husky voice.

He lathered and washed every exposed inch of her body while delivering soft, sensual, lingering kisses on her lips, ears, and throat. When she was covered entirely in whipped peaks of scented soapy lather, he turned his attention to himself. Candace took her turn assisting, lathering, laughing, and enjoying the mutual exploration of their bodies. She leaned against his chest and circled her arms around his neck, both covered in soap, slipping and sliding against one another and sharing deep, ravenous kisses underneath the steady shower spray.

Eventually, he reached for the handheld nozzle and began to rinse away the soapy residue. He turned her around and pulled her back against him and changed the setting on the showerhead from spray to pulsating, then moved the warm water down her body, over her breasts and stomach, and down to her smooth, clean shaven mound. She gasped. He felt her shiver from the sudden shock of warmth and pressure as it pulsed directly over her clit. Her nipples hardened and pointed. His erection was at full attention and pressed firmly against her backside, nestled comfortably in that now familiar resting place. He liked the way his shaft automatically fit the curve of her bottom.

The showerhead pounded a continuous throbbing force against that most sensitive area while he delivered hot wet kisses to her neck and shoulder. He reached between her legs and spread her nether lips with one hand and turned the spray at an angle for a direct, continual assault on her pleasure button. She squirmed and pushed back against him. The intensity of the pulsating water made her shudder as the pinpoint precision of the spray struck her with forceful repetition. Her nipple buds grew harder, and the muscles in her thighs and legs were stiff. She stretched and writhed in struggle against the feeling, and he held on to her throughout the fight.

“It's okay, Candy. I've got you. Let go,” he whispered in her ear. The sound of her moans rose with her conflict. His embrace tightened as he felt her lose control and give into an orgasm that rushed through her with an overwhelming, shattering intensity. Experiencing her climax with her was nearly as potent and debilitating for him. Brice held her until they both recovered, pressing light kisses on her neck and cheek and whispering sweet nonsense in her ear until she was able to move.

They toweled off with huge spa towels and then went into the bedroom. Brice pulled a pair of black silk pajamas out of the drawer and gave her the top while he put on the bottom with one of his undershirts. They stood for a moment, embracing and kissing, until he took her hand and led her back toward the entry to the residence. There, they found her personal bag had been placed inside the doorway, their clothes were gone, and an entire meal had been set up on the kitchen counter and placed inside electric warmers. The dining table had been set for two with silverware, plates and glasses, and a bottle of wine chilling inside an ice bucket.

“Where did all this come from?” She looked around in awe.

“Someone from the hotel staff set it up.”

“You mean there was someone here while we were in the shower?”

“Yes.”

“There was someone here, besides us?”

He saw the brief look of fear in her eyes and suddenly realized what must be going through her head. She was still spooked by the recent break-in.

“Yes. It's okay, Candace, that's what they do. They are trusted employees who take care of the residents. It's part of the service here, if requested.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in close to calm her. “Remember I told you I was going to make some calls? I asked them to bring us dinner.”

• • •

“Mm, this is so good.” She licked her lips and reached for another serving. “Aren't you going to have any more?”

“No.” He pushed his chair back and reached for his glass of wine. “I'm saving room for dessert.”

“There's dessert? I didn't see any dessert.” She creased her brows and surveyed the banquet of food and drink spread out on the table. When she turned toward him with a questioning look on her face, he eyed her pointedly with one eyebrow raised.

“Ooh.” A wicked smile spread across her face and sparkled in her eyes. “Well, in that case ... ” Candace hurriedly pushed all the dishes to one side, climbed onto the table, and crawled over and sat at the end, directly in front of Brice. She took his wine glass out of his hand, took a sip, and put it aside, then wrapped her arms around his neck. “Dessert is served.”

Brice grinned from ear to ear as he pulled her down onto his lap. He leaned in to kiss her, and let his hands roam and explore her body until they settled around her breasts, cupping their weight and brushing her nipples with his thumbs and teasing them with his tongue. Finally he stood, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. His erection stood high and pressed intimately against her panty-covered divide. He nuzzled her neck.

“I think I'll have my dessert ‘to go.'”

“Shouldn't we clear the table?” She quivered; the thrill from such brazen contact warmed her blood and made her tingle deep down inside.

“Don't worry about it. The service center will send someone up tomorrow to take care of it when they bring breakfast. Grab that bottle and those glasses. We're going to need something to quench our thirst later.” He carried her off to his room, his hands gripping her bottom with her legs clamped around his waist, her face buried in his neck, laughing and giggling all the way.

• • •

“Oh, oh, oh, ouch!”

“What?”

“I think I have a cramp.”

“Where?”

“Right ... there.” She pointed to the calf of her left leg.

“Don't be such a baby.”

“But it hurts.”

“That's what you get for acting like a gymnast. I told you that last move was probably too risqué.” Brice laughed as he massaged her leg with firm, intense pressure.

“A simple ‘I told you so' would be sufficient. You don't need to torture me to get the point across.”

“You're going to thank me when this is over.”

“Yeah, that's what they all say.” She grumbled and gritted her teeth against the pain. “You're just trying to justify your sadism.”

He made her turn over on her back. Placing her foot on his shoulder, he massaged her entire leg from her thigh down to her toes.

She'd never admit it, but he was right. She could already feel the muscles in her whole body relaxing from the all-over warm oil massage he was giving her. She'd never felt so pampered in her life. She'd spent the last forty-eight hours living one of those so-called fairy tales. She'd been rescued by a handsome prince and taken to his castle and waited on hand and foot. Literally. If she wasn't careful, she just might start believing in all that fairy tale hype.

While she wasn't quite ready to fall for the fairy princess in wonderland propaganda yet, she would admit to one thing: the last forty-eight hours with Brice had been eye-opening. He'd shown her what it was like to be with a sweet, caring, and considerate man. A taste of what she'd been missing in life had her seriously questioning the sound practice of her fool-proof plan. After a night of blissful intercourse, by turns making love and laughing, talking about nothing and everything, she'd be hard pressed to go back to her bottom-of-the-barrel bad habits.

“You know what I just realized?” she asked, basking in the sensation of him massaging the arch of her foot and pulling on her toes.

“What's that?”

“That technically we're still on our second date. I've never had a date that lasted an entire weekend. And the funny thing is though it's only been a few short weeks, it feels like we've actually known each other since, oh, I don't know—forever?”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. We click. I think that's what they call chemistry.”

She sighed and propped herself up on her elbows to watch as he massaged her foot. “I suppose chemistry's as good an explanation as any, but it's a shame you're such a nice guy.”

His hands went still and his eyebrows rose as he pinned her with a level stare. “What's wrong with being a nice guy?”

“There's nothing ‘wrong' with it. I simply make it a point to avoid them like the plague.”

“Why?”

“Because I'm not interested in a relationship, and nice guys usually want something more stable than a couple of nights rolling around between the sheets. I've already been there, done that. It didn't work out, and I moved on. I have no intention of making the same mistake again.” She wasn't being entirely honest, but she didn't see any point in bringing up the past. The truth was she didn't trust nice. But she didn't owe him the truth.

Brice resumed his massage. “If you're trying to tell me something, Candace, I'm all ears.”

She returned his steady gaze and decided to broach the idea she'd been turning over in her head.

“Look, Brice, we've only known each other for a little while. And at this point, there's not much between us except a little conversation and a lot of physical attraction. But before this goes any further I have to ask. You're not interested in anything long-term, are you? I mean, what we're doing now is fine. Right? You've as much as admitted you're a confirmed bachelor, not ready to settle down. And I'm not looking to change your status—or mine.” Staring into those icy-cool and incredibly blue eyes was starting to make her feel just a tad nervous. She would start squirming any minute.

“Go on.”

“I have a proposal to make that could fit into both our plans.” Her eyes shifted to focus on her toes while she spoke. “Since it's obvious we get along and we like each other in and out of the bedroom, why don't we make this a friends-with-benefits relationship? You know, no strings attached. We spend time together whenever we want, but still have the freedom and flexibility to date others as well. If it gets to a point where one of us develops feelings more than friendship, we cut it off before it gets complicated, like an exit clause or something.”

She continued, somewhat unsteadily: “You said you're a man who doesn't like drama. I don't think things could get any more drama-free than that. This could be the perfect arrangement, a win-win situation. What do you think?” She lifted her eyes to gauge his reaction. He didn't look at her directly as he continued his massage, but it appeared he was at least considering her proposal.