Nothing's Sweeter than Candy (15 page)

He reached for the phone to call her, unable to resist the pull that drew him in against his will. He had to hear her voice. As he punched in the number, his defiant claim to David that he “wasn't going down without a fight” rang loudly in his ears. Where was that grit and determination now? For all his bluff and bluster, he hadn't put forth much effort to salvage his pride or his freedom.

“I don't believe you've been keeping up your end of our friends-with-benefits agreement,” he said when she answered the phone.

“What do you mean?”

“I want to see you. I'm tired of waiting and hearing that you're too busy to make time for me. With all these excuses, if I didn't know better I'd think you were avoiding me. I'm a patient man, Candace, and I don't normally think with my dick, but lately all I can think about is having you in my bed, lying under me with your hands tangled in my hair and your legs wrapped around my waist. I want to be in your arms and buried deep inside you. Right now.”

His voice, deliberately pitched low and husky, exuded an infinite hunger intended to make her toes curl and her vaginal walls twitch and contract. He knew what it did to her. He dropped his voice lower and practically growled into the phone. He wasn't beyond playing dirty or pulling out all the stops. Why should he be the only one suffering?

“I think I've been a damn good friend over the past few weeks, but I haven't received any of those benefits we discussed. You've been holding out on me, babe. This was your idea, and I intend to reap my fair share of those promised rewards.”

“I'm sorry. How incredibly inconsiderate of me,” she responded playfully. The sound of her teasing laughter rang in his ear. The familiar feeling of heat gathered in his gut and went straight to his groin, stabbing him with a thousand painful bursts of red-hot pleasure. “I didn't realize I was in breach of our agreement.”

“How can you live without me? You do it so well, and it bothers me,” he replied gruffly, his tight control unraveling further at the melodic sound of her voice. “Woman, don't make me beg. I expect to see you tonight, and the only thing I need to hear from you is ‘My place or yours?'”

“Um, I think playtime at your place will be perfect. I love romping around in that playground you call a king-sized bed. And,” she breathed wickedly into the phone, “I can't wait to see the master in his master bedroom.”

His blood pressure spiked and his temperature rose as the sleeping dominant in him raised its head and stirred. “Be careful what you ask for. I may feel obliged to see that you get it.”

“Um, sounds kinky. I
like
kinky.”

“Good. That's what I'm counting on. I'll see you around eight o'clock. And Candace—don't be late.”

He hung up the phone grinning and bursting with excitement. It was time to move this relationship forward, but he would have to tread carefully. Instinct warned him that getting her to even consider the possibility was as dangerous as walking through a minefield, and it could lead to an explosion of monumental proportions.

• • •

Brice constantly surprised her with his uncensored honesty. He held nothing back. He spoke his mind and got straight to the point. His frank admission of desire, and the sound of his voice—hard, edged with need, and full of demand—made her hot. Blatant talk of his need for her made her nipples stiff and bead tightly, and, God help her, she needed to change her underwear. She wanted him just as much, but she wasn't nearly as open and honest about it as he was.

He was right. She
had
been avoiding him. She wasn't immune to his sweet touch and his thoughtful ways. She'd been doomed from the start, when he'd first wrapped himself around her and held her all night long, just to comfort her. She'd felt it then for the first time, that elusive feeling women dream of, the feeling of being safe, protected, and cared for. It had been the same ever since. Every time they'd made love and stayed together, she'd wake in the morning enclosed in his arms, tangled in his legs, and surrounded by his scent. It was addictive, that feeling of being safe and wanted. It was something a girl could get used to.

Her mind and body craved him, and she constantly fought unpredictable and overpowering urges to run to him as often as she truly wanted to. There was no denying it; she was totally hooked on the man and how he made her feel, the way he made love to her. The way he touched, teased, and made her body come alive was wonderful—and frightening. In a desperate attempt to hold onto her heart, she tried to keep her distance. But it wasn't working. It didn't matter that she told him lies and tried to stay away. She couldn't lie to herself. His cool blue eyes and warm smile had drawn her in, and she ached to be wrapped inside his strong arms.

This no-strings, no-commitment arrangement was getting harder and harder to live with, but changing the rules was not an option. She might lose her head and control of her body, but losing her heart was non-negotiable.

• • •

She rang the doorbell at precisely eight o'clock, her heart hammering with excitement. Brice opened the door and immediately pulled her inside. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hard and deep, pouring his need into her and filling her up. He surrounded her, consuming her with his passion. He kissed her long and with unrestrained fervor, until she realized that there was no gentle teasing, no quiet laughter, no calming reassurance. This man in her arms was someone she didn't recognize. And it excited her.

When he finally released her, he retreated and let his hands drop to his sides, breathing heavily as if struggling for control. The intensity of his kiss and the strength of his embrace left her swaying and nearly breathless. She kept her eyes closed, feeling electrically charged, slightly disoriented, and burning from the inside out. When she was able to force her eyes open, she was surprised by what she saw. He was dressed entirely in black: black jeans, a black t-shirt stretched taunt across his muscular chest, black biker boots, and black leather bands wrapped around his wrists. He looked rugged, sexy, seductive, and scary. His dark presence excited her. This new look was a far cry from his usual custom-tailored suits and silk ties. He looked more forceful, more powerful, more dominating, more masculine—more
everything
. She nervously licked her lower lip.

“Do you trust me, Candace?” He placed both hands on her arms and brushed over them in a long, sensual sweep from her shoulders down to her fingertips, and threaded their fingers together. Again she licked her lower lip, uncertain of the answer. Did she trust him? She was afraid of the intense heat and the dangerous look that smoldered in his eyes, and yet, inexplicably drawn to the exciting promise of both. Her fear of losing control was far outweighed by her excitement. Something deep inside warned her she was on the verge of a discovery that could change her life forever, but she couldn't bring herself to resist. She swallowed hard, and nodded her head.

“There's something wild in you, Candace, something that's been contained and misunderstood for too long. I want to help you let it out. Will you trust me with that?” Again she nodded. “I have something for you.”

He took her hand and pulled her further into the house. The room was dimly lit with recessed lighting from above, further enhanced with the glow of several candles scattered about. He kissed her again, this one lingering, tender, and more sedate than the previous one. He handed her a large box with a black top, pink-and-black stripes along the sides, and a black bow tying the two together. The name of the store, Straight Up with a Twist, was embossed in raised gold script across the top. “I went shopping and picked up a few things. I want you to put these on.”

Her eyes widened with surprise and she gave him a questioning look, but his blank expression gave nothing away. She removed the top and cautiously peeked inside. Carefully peeling back delicate pink tissue paper, she revealed a black latex harness bra with tiny pink bows stitched below each shoulder strap, and two black latex pasties to cover the nipples once the breasts hung exposed and free. Included was a matching pair of extremely short shorts with a zipper that ran from the rear, through the crotch, and ended in front just below the waist. And finally, there was a pair of black round-toed six-inch platform heels with red-bottomed soles.

Candace looked at the contents of the box in stunned silence and a growing excitement. She pulled out the harness bra and ran her hands over the shiny black material. She felt something deep inside unfurl and purr with recognition and expectation. “Where should I change?” she asked in a low voice as she pulled each piece from the box and carefully set them aside.

“Right here. I want to watch.”

Without hesitation she began to strip, taking her time to savor the sensation of icy blue eyes fixated on her every move. He stood with his legs apart, his hands clasped together, and his head slightly bowed, watching as she took her time and slowly removed each piece of clothing. He shamelessly wrapped his hand around the thickness of his stiffening cock, gripping and massaging it through the material of his pants. She was turned on by the evidence of his desire and shivered with anticipation as his hardened length continued to grow.

When she was completely naked, he reached out to trace her lines and caress her curves. He followed the shape of her breast with the tips of his fingers and flicked back and forth over her nipple with his thumb. He moved lower and cupped her smooth naked mound, and rubbed delicate circles around her opening before he dipped inside her warmth, seeking telltale evidence that she was wet and ready for him. She welcomed his invasion and held onto his arms for stability, pushing helplessly into his hand as he indulged himself.

When he removed his tormenting finger, he reached behind her and picked up the pair of shorts. He kneeled in front of her and put his arms around her waist. Pulling her closer, he buried his face in her pelvis and inhaled the scent of her arousal. He flicked his tongue repeatedly, delving into her divide to taste her spice. She moaned, nearly lost her balance, and held on tighter. Again he withdrew and temporarily halted his torture and lowered the shorts to the floor, encouraging her to step into them, one leg at a time. They fit her like a glove and molded perfectly to her rounded bottom. Next, he helped her into the harness, lifting her breasts through the openings and pulling it tight, then lacing it up from behind to bring her shoulders back and lift her breasts higher. Before putting on the pasties, he suckled each nipple, licking, nipping and teasing them to pointed perfection. And last, he helped her put on the heels and watched her height increase and bring her to a level only a few inches shorter than his six feet plus.

His tantalizing tease changed from gentle and coaxing to dark and demanding; his gaze became hard and possessive. Suddenly he bent his knees and lifted her up. Putting her over his shoulder like a prehistoric caveman, he headed off down the hallway to his bedroom. He put her down in the middle of the floor and held her captive in his arms. Candace viewed her surroundings through wide-open eyes. She was always impressed by the heavy, dark-stained oak king bed prominently displayed in the middle of the room. The headboard was covered with black leather held in place by rounded bronze tacking pins. In the middle was the sculptured bronze head of a lion, pressed flush against the board, with a small metal hoop that hung between its teeth. It was a beautiful piece of workmanship. Whenever she looked at the bed, she couldn't help but see a reflection of the man with its masculine beauty and implied strength.

Placed next to the bed was a small serving table that held an assortment of items: crystal goblets, an ice bucket, a bottle of champagne, a bowl of fruit, chocolate sauce, whipped cream—and nipple clamps.

“I want you to close your eyes and open your mind, Candace.” He spoke into her ear as he wrapped his arms around her body from behind and pulled her back against his chest. “I want you to
feel
what it is I feel for you.” He took her hand and placed it between his legs, encouraging her to wrap her fingers around his engorged length, to stroke and grip it firmly. “I want you to know what it is you do to me every time you're near me and every time I think about you.” He withdrew a long black silk scarf from his back pocket and let it trail over her skin, through her fingers, up her arm, around her neck, and over her face.

“Since this is our first time experimenting together like this, we're going to take it slow,” he whispered into her neck and nipped at her shoulder. “I want you to trust me and believe I would never hurt you. This night is about pleasure, for the both of us. Do you believe me, Candace?”

This time she didn't hesitate. “Yes. I believe you, Brice.”

“That's my girl.” He placed the scarf over her eyes and tied it behind her head. Then he turned her around to face him.

“Kiss me,” he commanded. And she did, wrapping her arms around his neck and putting every ounce of excitement and fear she felt into it, signaling her surrender and leap of faith. The kiss went on forever, tongues battling, hearts pounding, and internal temperatures escalating toward meltdown. She wrapped one leg around his lower body, bringing her center snug against his enormous hard-on. He pressed his cock against her latex-covered pelvis and ground his hips back and forth. The friction of his jeans rubbing against the zipper in her shorts directly over her sensitive button was an excruciating, painful pleasure. She moaned in submission and felt her knees weaken from the pressure as she approached orgasm.

“Oh no you don't,” he scolded as he pulled back from her embrace. “It's not going to be
that
easy. You took your sweet-ass time letting me back into your space. I think you enjoyed making me wait and beg to see you. But there's something you should know about me, Candace. I'm not accustomed to waiting or begging for what I want.”