The Proposal Book 1 (Submissive Romance)

The Proposal Book 1(Submissive Romance)

Published by Lucia Jordan

at Smashwords

Copyright © 2013 Lucia Jordan

This book is a work of fiction. The names,
characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s
imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be
constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead,
actual events, locales or organizations is entirely
coincidental.

All rights reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced,
scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written
permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation
embodied in critical articles and reviews. All character depicted
are over the age of 18.

The Proposal Book
1

Brooke squirmed in her seat
as Chris stared right back at her. His gaze was calculating, almost
as if he was planning something and was holding her imprisoned. She
urged her eyes to pull away from his enticing green ones, but it
was so hard. Liquid, molten heat was spreading through her limbs,
ending in a painful knot between her thighs. Her pussy was a wet
mess, and she was worried that everyone at the table would know
about it.
Stop looking at me like
that!
She wanted to scream, but he was too
intimidating. Besides, her sister would be pissed as hell if Brooke
ruined her wedding rehearsal by screaming at the groom’s
brother.

Chris lifted his head slightly and narrowed
his eyes, emanating raw heat. Brooke’s sharp, indrawn breath made
her sister, Valerie, turn around to face her. Brooke came back to
earth with a jolt.

“Are you okay, Brooke?” Valerie asked.

Brooked nodded way too eagerly. “Yeah. I’m
just feeling a little lightheaded. Do you mind if I step out for a
little bit?”

“Of course not.” Valerie had always been like
this, kind and understanding.

In her haste, the chair scraped awkwardly on
the floor as Brooke attempted to stand. In a flurry, Chris was
behind her, and her eyes were wide with shock. He didn’t say
anything, but his jaw was tense, a muscle moving spasmodically in
his cheek. Brooke had no choice but to walk outside, with Chris at
her heels.

She had half a mind to tell him off for
making her so nervous, but she herself couldn’t explain her
reaction to the man. She glanced at him and he had the same hard,
aloof expression. Finally, Brooke had had enough, and when she
turned around to snap at him angrily, she stilled with cold fear
spiraling through her limbs.

Chris was intimidating, masculine, and seemed
to exude an aura of authority. It was stamped onto his features,
and in the way he carried himself.

“Why… What are you doing?” Brooke stammered
awkwardly, her voice shaky.

“I’m showing you out. This is my house you
know?” His condescending glare made her seethe.

Brooke’s ears began to emanate steam. She
didn’t like being talked to this way. She was a successful
executive, and had hundreds of employees that catered to her
orders. She didn’t take orders, and she wasn’t going to start
anytime soon.

“Mr. Hunt,” she began with a stiff smile, “I
know the way to the terrace. You needn’t bother yourself. Please,
if you don’t mind, I’d like a moment alone.” Her teeth were
clenched, her eyes shooting sparks of anger.

Chris smiled at her, almost smirked, and
slipped his hands into his pants pockets. “The thing is…Miss.
Miller.” He paused. “You bother me. You bother me a lot. And I
don’t like how that makes me feel.”

Brooke’s eyes widened and her lips parted to
give him a biting retort, one that he deserved. Instead, she
noticed Chris’s eyes doing a provocative dance over her facial
features. His gaze was thorough, relaxed, and he took his time, as
if he was a master of what he was looking at. Her tongue got stuck
to the roof of her mouth, and her chest beat frantically.

Chris walked away and Brooke
should have been seething but she was just…in shock.
You bother me a lot. And I don’t like how that
makes me feel
. Was the groom’s brother mad?
She had barely talked to him when they were introduced. Although
she couldn’t deny that there was raw, potent virility emanating
from every pore on Christopher Hunt’s body, she wasn’t
interested.

Relationships had been the only sore aspect
of Brooke’s life. Three past relationships had collapsed before any
serious commitment, and all for one reason alone.

Brooke’s professional success had been too
hard to handle for the men in her life. She knew that frequent
traveling, unpredictable hours, and her attachment to her work had
contributed to the ultimate mess in her personal life, but she had
learned to accept the fact. No man would ever be enough for Brooke,
and she would always put her career first.

**

Brooke refused to acknowledge Chris’s
presence at the table. The four-course, elaborate meal was being
served, and Brooke’s stomach tightened in protest at the sight.
Gorgeous seared scallops were adorning her plate, but she couldn’t
quiet the miserable feeling in the pit of her stomach. Christopher
Hunt had offended her and it was not a feeling she could easily
fathom.

Brooke was used to being in charge, of being
in control of what went on in her life – professional or personal.
She inwardly cursed the man for being the groom’s brother, which
meant that he would be in close proximity during the four days of
the wedding.

She glimpsed up without really meaning to,
knowing for sure that Chris would be watching her again.
Christopher Hunt was smiling, staring at his plate of food, while a
gorgeous blonde, probably in her early twenties, clung to his arm.
He seemed to be enjoying himself, and although uncalled-for, her
bones were suddenly taught with rage.

He had been staring at her face a few minutes
ago as if he wanted to have her for his next meal, preferably raw,
and now he was sitting there, thoroughly enjoying the clingy
blonde.

Brooke’s jaw tensed and she
shook herself mentally.
What do I care? Why
do I give a damn what Christopher Hunt is doing?

Thankfully, her reverie was interrupted by
Valerie’s fiancé, Conner. He turned to tell her something about the
wedding photographer. Temporarily, her mind had broken out from
under the spell that Chris had placed upon her. But soon she found
herself wondering how two brothers, Conner and Chris, could look
and be so different.

Conner was blonde and lean, athletically
built. Chris was incredibly tall and his dark hair was as black as
sin. His features were chiseled, masculine, and heart-meltingly
gorgeous.

She lurched physically to
escape the pleasurable vision.
What is
wrong with me?
She screeched in her
head.

“You seem distracted,” Conner said with a
smile. “Did something happen with Chris?”

Brooke’s eyes widened and her face turned
white as a sheet. “No no no. No!”

Conner’s laugh sounded through the table.
“That’s a lot of no’s for a very simple question.” Brooke blushed
beetroot red and to her embarrassment, funny, carefree Conner was
not done. “Hey Chris? What did you say to Brooke? She’s acting a
little funny. All shaky and breathless.”

Snickers sounded at the table and Brooke
couldn’t lift her eyes. Burning, crippling embarrassment was
heating up her cheeks.

Chris saw the sandy-haired beauty sitting in
her seat, her head held high, her eyes averted. The embarrassed
blush on her cheeks – although beautiful – did not suit her. He
felt a sudden burst of possessive instinct. “Conner, keep your eyes
averted, turn to the left and stare at your affianced bride,” he
boomed.

Silence spilled through the inhabitants of
the table and several of the nearby guests who had heard the
exchange. Brooke’s eyes lifted instinctively, and what she felt was
beyond anything she had experienced. Her body was on fire. Giddy
happiness, liquid lust, and craving were the feelings ruling her
mind. Chris was looking at her with an expression that could only
be described as…tender.

A loud guffaw from Conner made everyone join
in, and Brooke saw the brothers exchange knowing smiles. To her
complete shock, Conner turned away from her, to the left, and
pointedly faced Valerie.

**

Chris stood at the balcony with a glass of
Brandy in his hand. His eyes were glued to a modestly dressed
figure seated at the bench outside. Brooke was tall, lean, and had
a figure that was made for a man’s hands.

My hands.

The thought interrupted him and he smiled to
himself. Even though Brooke was quite far, he could feel the scent
emanating for her body. It was fruity and fresh, just like she was,
and Chris was mesmerized.

Brooke sighed as she rested her back against
the bench. “I don’t know, Val. I didn’t even talk to him and he’s
acting like a complete freak. What’s up with him?”

“Chris is different than Conner. That’s all I
can say, Brooke.”

“You’re damn right he is. I don’t even think
he’s sane.” Where Christopher Hunt was concerned, Brooke had lost
the ability to think and analyze rationally. “Listen, I don’t know
why, but Chris…scares me.” Valerie’s face was close to Brooke’s and
she laughed out loud at that piece of information.

“Oh C’mon, Brooke!” Valerie cried.

“I’m not kidding. There’s something weird
going on with him. He scares me!”

Valerie doubled over in hilarity and scanned
the grounds for her fiancé. She didn't want him overhearing the
slander about Chris. “The only thing that’s weird is that anyone
can scare…you! You’re like he most un-scarable person I know.
What’s up with you?”

“I...” Brooke quieted. Valerie wasn’t getting
the point, but Brooke herself wasn’t sure that she got her
point.

**

Brooke tossed and turned in the wide, antique
bed. She was knackered, and her plans for a rest and a break had
been sorely trashed to the ground. After two years of constant work
and no vacation, she had finally viewed Valerie’s wedding as a
reprieve. She had wanted to laugh and joke and have fun.

Valerie and Brooke had always been close, but
because of Brooke’s fast-paced lifestyle, they had little time to
connect anymore. Bi-monthly phone calls were the sole contact they
had left and Brooke craved the sisterly banter, the closeness.

She cursed a certain raven-haired,
taller-than-the-devil man who was sleeping in the next bedroom. The
knowledge that he would be sleeping in the room directly next to
hers had been a shock. She had been incredibly drowsy before she
found out the sleeping arrangements.

Now, she couldn’t even blink an eye. The
right wall, which she knew was the only thing parting her from
Chris, seemed to have developed a life of its own. It was emanating
energy.

Unbidden, a memory of the way he had explored
her face with his eyes made her tense beneath the covers. His lips
were manly, molded perfectly, and a sudden fantasy of that mouth
caressing her neck made her curl into a fetal position.

Chris sat on the edge of his bed, facing the
wall that separated him from Brooke. It took every last ounce of
his control to not tear the wall down with his bare hands and get
to her. A memory of her blushing face split through his mind and he
cringed.

Never again, would he put Brooke in that
situation. She was a proud, spirited woman, and only he would make
her blush, bend to his will, submit to his needs. He was desperate
to curb her spirit.

**

The breakfast table was laden with goodies,
and Brook felt slightly better after a few hours of sleep. The
charisma, the magnetism of Christopher Hunt, seemed like a long ago
memory.

Some of the guests were going horseback
riding along the vast estate that belonged to the Hunts. It was
their family home and personally, Brooke thought it provided the
most pompous and wealthy display.

Stables packed to the rafters with horses of
magnificent breeds, a tennis-court, an Olympic-sized swimming pool,
and acres of well-tended lawns. Brooke was helped onto a horse by
one of the trainers and she sped off along the sides of the
property.

The wind in her hair, and the thudding of the
horse’s hooves was exhilarating. To her surprise, she saw a small
lake with a black, iron bridge. The lake was so tiny it didn’t even
need a bridge, but it was ornamental, and Brooke couldn’t help but
stop for a rest.

Chris watched from afar as Brooke’s black,
corduroy pants stretched taught over her behind. He swallowed. His
mouth was going dry. Brooke bent over the water, gazing into it as
if she was looking for something.

As Chris neared Brooke, she could hear a
horse’s hooves, but was engrossed in watching a fish that was
jiggling near the edge. She didn’t notice until the horse was right
behind her, and the rider standing firmly on the ground.