ShamelesslyTaken (3 page)

Yes, it was crazy for this to be the place she’d find Chris again.

She dug around in her emotions and didn’t find any regret or shame for what they’d done and…what she planned to do again with him.

Tomorrow, what would happen? Layla didn’t know, but she took in the sky. They had time. Morning hadn’t begun to brush away the darkness. She bit into her bottom lip, reaching down between them.

“Chris,” she said, wrapping her hand around his shaft, “you’ve been quiet.”

His arms tightened around her. “I’ve been trying to think of a way to touch you again that didn’t come across sleazy.”

She ran her finger across the slit of his dick and had the pleasure of hearing him groan. He pressed his face against her neck.

This time, she could be the one weaving the fantasy. “Whenever I think of that night, I always imagine reaching beneath the study table and doing this.”

Pre-come dampened her index finger. She couldn’t see it but could feel the slippery warmth. She spread the moisture around the tip.

“Yeah?” His voice was tight and deep.

She clasped her hand around him and squeezed. “People could see and catch us then, too.”

“You like that?” His hands ran up her torso.

She shivered as he cupped her breasts.

“I missed a few things the first time around,” he said.

She’d noticed. “I didn’t care.”

“I do. I don’t want to miss one detail.” His fingertips swirled around the tight buds.

She squirmed under the caress. “Oh, do tell.”

His laugh rumbled against her ear. “I’ll show you instead. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

Her brain refused to focus, but she explored him between her legs. Thick, wet at the tip but so damn hard. She closed her eyes, finding the vein along the underside and traced it.

He teased her nipples until they ached and if there was cold she couldn’t feel it. She sat astride his lap and couldn’t help but squeeze her thighs around his. She ached there too. That feeling grew as he pinched her lightly.

There was no reason to wait, not when she was this wet, this needy for another round. Rising, she guided his cock to her entrance. He stilled, his groan filling her ear and then he nipped at the lobe.

She arched her hips and lowered onto him. Her arousal eased his way. Goodness. He was so stiff. The rest of the world dimmed except for where they connected, where his skin touched hers, and his heavy breath caressed her ear.

She didn’t care she hadn’t tasted him, salty and tangy, in her mouth yet. She didn’t know how his tongue felt against her clit. They’d get to that, but now he surrounded her, pierced her deep. She rolled her hips to feel him glide in and out. Right now, this mattered. The morning would come, but that was eons away.

His hands gripped her hips and he lowered into the seat, the sheet tangling in their limbs. The air was an afterthought as he thrust into her. A crack filled the night and lights shattered against the star lit sky. She moaned, closed her eyes. Grasping his forearms she continued the lazy roll of her hips. The ache turned unbearable and she reached down again, seeking to ease her clit.

“Yes,” he murmured, slamming her down, forcing her to take all of him. “Come.”

How could she deny him when her stomach felt tight, her sex gripping him, seating him deeper? She couldn’t see him, wished like hell she could, but his breathing felt as fervored as hers. His strokes were just as mindless. Harder, faster he drove them both to the edge. She laid her palm flat against her mound, shuddering. Were people watching them? Could they see? Her sex spasmed. Damn that turned her on and slammed her faster to the edge.

“Chris,” she cried.

His teeth grazed her shoulder.

She bucked, tightening around him again. “Chris,” she said, but it sounded like a whimper.

Flashes of crimson flickered across her closed lids. The fireworks. Apt. A moan spilled into her wry chuckle. Blood roared in her ears and she let the orgasm washed over her.

He let out a strangled shout, his pumps turning frantic until they slowed and then stopped. He cursed, dragging her closer to his chest.

If he hadn’t done that she might have melted out of his embrace onto the balcony. Minutes passed. She wasn’t sure if they were only catching their breath or watching the tail end of the fireworks, but they stayed like that, quiet. Doubts, questions wanted to take hold, but that had always been her problem. She was always looking ahead instead of enjoying right now.

He pressed his lips against her temple. “You must be freezing. Come on.” Without another word, he bundled her into his arms, lifting her out of the chair.

She pressed her face into his chest, closing her eyes. Tomorrow. She’d deal with everything tomorrow. They still had the rest of the night with each other.

CAN’T LEAVE

They’d promised the morning would be the end, but mid-afternoon there she was, still in the hotel room. She watched folks come and go on the winding drive through the bowing oaks.

They’d ordered room service and hadn’t left the room as though outside was reality and they just weren’t ready for it. Her hair was still wet from the shower they’d taken together. Neither of them made any movements to leave, nor did they speak a word about their goodbye.

It was driving her insane.

She ran a hand through her hair and faced him. He’d sprawled on the white and gold Victorian couch, content in watching her. They could dance around the truth longer, but she’d never learned how to be patient. Might be part of her problem. She liked to know where a road was taking her. Coming here was the first time she let herself go blindly into something. So far, she didn’t regret that choice.

What did she want to happen? Something sappy.

“Why haven’t you left?” she asked.

He straightened. “You haven’t.”

She blinked, shocked at his simple answer. “You’re still here because of me?”

He looked at her as though she shouldn’t be surprised by his answer. “From the moment I walked into the hotel room—you’re the reason why I haven’t left.” He stood, striding forward. “You expected a different answer?”

She blinked again. Okay. Raphael wasn’t the best example when it came to having open and honest conversations, but this was new. And welcomed. “It’s just…”

He smiled and it lit in his hazel eyes. “When you leave, so will I. I’m not looking for this to end anytime soon. So I might have to dig into my savings for the rest of the week here at the hotel. Hell, the month if that’s necessary. We’ll spend that time catching up in and out of bed. But I’m not leaving until you do.”

Okay. Maybe a small part of her believed he was there to get her naked as often as possible. “Why?”

He stopped a foot in front of her, frowning down at her. “Because I’ve learned not to take anyone for granted. Nothing is a coincidence. I was ready to move on. Then I see my old friend, someone who I’ve thought about more than a handful of times throughout the years. I’m not leaving until you do.”

His gaze had turned intense and made her heart pound. “And when I leave?”

“I’m going to talk my way into leaving with you.” He cupped her face with both his hands. “I want to see where this goes.”

“Oh.” She grasped his hands, her own hands trembling. “I hadn’t wanted to hope.”

He grinned. “No need to hope. Know I want to be wherever you are. Take me as a widow or your old friend, but take me either way.”

Never would she have imagined this would happen, but she damn sure wasn’t going to complain or question it. This was better than any fantasy. She grinned back at him. “So, what you’re saying is—”

“Let this be the answer,” he said and kissed her.

Yes
. She threw her arms around his shoulders and kissed him back. No other words were needed.

OTHER DEN OF SIN TITLES

Ménage À Troys, Den of Sin

Several times per year, New Orleans’s Hotel Beaudelaire invites a select few guests to make their sexual fantasies come true.Eve and Brent Troy have been married three months and have yet to consummate their union. Faced with losing her claim to her family property, busy surgeon Eve had to marry before her thirtieth birthday. Brent was single and convenient, and more importantly, he said yes.

Now, she wants to light a flame under their cold marriage, but they’re strangers and don’t know how to connect. A New Year’s weekend at The Beaudelaire is supposed to give them the tools to connect. When they arrive, they learn the tool they’ve been equipped with comes in form of Eve’s best friend and fellow doctor Remy Kelly. He knows Eve’s marriage is a sham, and is intent on claiming her for himself. But, when faced with Eve’s strapping new husband who comes onto Remy’s radar as exactly the kind of alpha male he likes, he has a battle of conscience. He wants to take Eve home, not Brent, but for some reason they seem like a package deal.

At the Beaudelaire anything goes, so instead of two people letting down their guards, three forge bonds. That’s all well and good for the weekend, but what will shake out of their tentative ménage à trois when it’s time to go home?

***

Wicked Surrender, Den of Sin

To indulge in your most wicked desires…

After kicking her cheating ex-boyfriend to the curb, Kris Delacourt became celibate. Her grudge against the opposite sex has rendered her love life non-existent. The one thing that hasn’t been reduced is her sexual appetite. Kris is tired of spending her nights playing with hard plastic and silicone. She wants a real man. Spending a night at the Den of Sin sounds like the kick start she desperately needs. She doesn’t expect to meet one of the World’s Most Eligible Bachelors there. This isn’t the first time she’s met Travis Brenden, but it seems he doesn’t even remember her.

…would you surrender control?

Travis Brenden is a man who treasures being in control and he relinquishes it for no one. An invite to an exclusive event leads him to cross paths with a woman who seduces him with one innocent glance and erupts a torrid desire deep inside him. He dubs her the Temptress. Within the Den of Sin, he can indulge without the high expectations that come with his social status. Yet, something about this temptress jogs his memory to no end and while he’s with her his control begins to slip.

***

Redeeming the Amazon

Most come to the Beaudelaire Hotel a select few times a year just to indulge in sexual fantasy, but the stakes are higher for Karen Freeman and Paul Beaudelaire. Karen is nine years post-op from a double mastectomy, and her vain ex-husband hadn’t agreed with her decision to remove her remaining good breast or to eschew reconstruction. In the end, that decision cost her. She lost her marriage, but she’s certain the move has prolonged her life.

Returning to a normal dating and sex life has been difficult. She hasn’t made love fully unclothed since the demise of her marriage, and her most significant relationship occurred right after her surgery. When she was still recuperating, she had an affair of the heart with a Marine amputee who’d also been her Ph.D. classmate.

Paul Beaudelaire once led a charmed life as a ladies’ man who had his pick of women in the upper echelons of New Orleans society. He’d been satisfied to continue in that vein, until a Marine recruiter wooed him from LSU with tales of valor, courage, and commitment. His career in the corps cut short by the loss of his left leg, Paul returned to New Orleans with the best prosthesis Johns Hopkins orthopedics experts could fit him with. However, he left his heart in Baltimore with a beautiful former model, whose crippled marriage was the only deterrent to his waning honor.

Will this fantasy weekend at his uncle Henri’s hotel give him a second chance with his contemporary Amazon, or will her fear of rejection be a barrier to their reconnection?

AN EXCERPT FROM FORBIDDEN RENDEZVOUS

***

Blurb

When the Beaudelaire Hotel turns into a Den of Sin for the New Year’s weekend, any and every fantasy can become a reality…

Seraphina Gibson orchestrates fantasies, but this year she’ll create one of her own. It’s against the rules for an employee to participate in the weekend-long sex-capade but she’s willing to risk it for Luke Moreland. The man’s a mystery, but in a sea of CEOs and Fortune 500 billionaires, he stands out. His past and connection to her boss is clouded in intrigue, but she knows what he wants, and she plans to star in one of his voyeuristic trysts.

Born with a silver spoon Luke Moreland is used to getting everything he desires. Being next in line of his family’s winery leaves him very little time to take advantage of his riches. For a weekend, out of every year, he gets to feel the thrill of the chase. Not even in his sexual fantasies does he like to lose control, but then Seraphina walks into his playroom. He doesn’t know the truth of her past, but he knows the risk she’s taken to be with him. That doesn’t matter. He’s going to spend the next two days with her in his bed and keep her secret.

When reality crashes into their fantasy, will they survive?

***

Luke kept his word by accepting the file after the late evening dinner, but put his hand on the door to stall her exit. He hadn’t given her much room. Still, she managed to turn around without touching him. The wine put a beautiful glow in her cheeks. He liked to believe it was his company that made her eyes sparkle. A bit darker than whiskey, her irises lit from within. When they first met, the hidden spark in her eyes is what drew him to her.

“Seraphina.”

“It’s Ms. Gibson but, yes, Mr. Moreland?”

He laughed at the cool tone. Not once had she stopped being Henri Beaudelaire’s personal assistant, professional to a fault, but during the dinner she’d shown warmth and humor while evading his probing questions.

“Call me Luke. I insist.”

She gripped the files to her chest. Not that he could see anything but a hint of her femininity. She wore pants suits and not even a button was left open to tease him with a view of her dark-olive skin. When alone, at the end of the day, would she take the pins out of her hair and free the ebony strands? It killed him to be this close to her and yet so far from touching, seeing the woman underneath the professionalism.