Yours to Savor (20 page)

Chapter Twelve

Sandra had to follow Brandon through the parking lot at a trot. His strides were long and powerful, and it was a battle to keep up in heels.

She could understand his haste. She couldn’t wait to get to the hotel room herself, to feel his hands on her again, to taste his salty skin and lose herself in his caress.

I’m dying to kiss him. Why hasn’t he kissed me yet?

The time they’d spent dancing had been perfect. The low lights of the restaurant blended with the soul-stirring music to transform the floor into something otherworldly. It was more perfect and romantic than she could ever imagine. With views of the city all around them, the buildings lit up like Christmas trees; with Brandon staring down at her with those shining green eyes; with her hands hanging onto the shoulders of a strong, powerful man she found irresistible… well, that moment should have ended with a kiss.

Instead, she was rushing after Brandon to his car. She knew he wanted her, but something
still
kept that desire in check.

Why? Why is he holding back?

Tonight had washed all her doubts about Brandon away. He’d been the consummate date. And, after she got over that initial spurt of nerves on seeing him, he’d made her feel easy and carefree. They’d laughed together, teased each other, and continued to build on the riveting sexual tension between them. It was at its zenith, now, although if Brandon didn’t act soon, Sandra didn’t know what she’d do…

What’s stopping him? Is he committed to somebody else?

She heard the beep of a car unlocking, and saw the flashing taillights of a yellow coup. She spotted the Ferrari emblem at the rear and quickly recognized the shape of the car.

“That’s your car?”

Brandon grunted in reply.

“I never thought I’d ride in a 458 Italia.”

A look of surprise flashed across Brandon’s face, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he opened his own door and got in. Sandra gave an exasperated exhale. What was going
on
with the man? She opened her door and slid inside.

Brandon didn’t look at her. He was staring straight ahead, both hands gripping the steering wheel hard.

“Brandon…” Sandra began. The last thing she wanted was another awkward ending to the night, like the time on the boat. She saw his jaw clench, the muscles of his fingers flexing as they fought for a tighter grip on the wheel. “What—”

“I can’t,” he said, almost to himself. “I can’t do it.”

Without warning he turned his head, pulled her in, and kissed her with an unleashed passion that threatened to rip her to pieces.

His lips were soft in contrast to the hard desire driving them. His tongue penetrated Sandra’s mouth and stroked over her teeth, meeting hers in a fiery clash. Sandra moaned as she tangled both her hands in his hair with despair. She melted under the sudden heat of his burning lips and opened herself to him, allowing him to ravish her mouth as deeply as he wanted.

When Brandon finally pulled back, Sandra’s heart was racing. She felt like she’d been dunked alternatively in tubs of boiling hot and ice cold water.

Brandon smiled, revealing white teeth that her tongue had explored only moments ago.

“Better?” he asked. It was a low growl.

“Much.” Sandra felt completely flustered. The heat in her middle had spread to encompass her whole body. She was breathing hard. “I can’t remember the last time somebody’s kissed me like that.”

“On my yacht.” Brandon revved the engine, and the wheels screeched against the cement as the Ferrari jolted from its stall.

Sandra sighed and leaned back, dreamy and content. “That’s right. It was you again.” She turned her head to smile at him. He noticed, and reached over to take her hand.

“Now, to bring you back.”

“To the hotel?”

“To the hotel.”

Sandra nodded. She was more than ready for Brandon to take her on the spot. She knew the desire was wrong, that it had sprung up too fast, too quick, but she couldn’t control her body around him anymore—much less her feelings.

Brandon drove, keeping her hand in his, brushing his strong thumb over her fingers. He gripped her palm tight, and every caress made her all the more anxious to reach the hotel. His touch held the promise of what would happen once they arrived.

When they stopped at a traffic light, Sandra thought he would lean over and kiss her again. Instead, he simply looked across, reached up, and brushed aside a strand of her wayward hair. He trailed the back of his fingers along her jaw, moving down to trace her lips with one finger. She nipped at him, and he laughed—then moved in for that kiss.

A loud honk behind them shattered the moment. Sandra glanced at the light, saw that it had turned green. Brandon gave her an abashed grin before landing a quick peck on her lips, and laughed as he drove off.

It didn’t take long for him to start showing off the power of his Ferrari. Sandra held on tight as he swerved and dodged past other vehicles, accelerating so quickly it made her heart leap to her throat. He’d glance at her while hitting the gas, making the car rip forward like a bullet shot from a gun. The forward blast of the vehicle caused her to yelp and scream and laugh in excitement. The tires would screech, the engine would rev, and Sandra knew it was all just a way to get her even more amped up for tonight.

Only a few minutes later Brandon pulled up to the hotel and turned off the engine. “This is you.”

“It is.” She tried to keep her voice steady, but the anticipation of what would happen when they got upstairs was killing her. The thrill of the car ride alone had her all but ready to orgasm.

“I’ll walk you in.”

“Oh?”
Like there’s any doubt about that.

He got out, ran around the front of the car, opened her door, helped her out. She smiled, remembering how he’d avoided showing affection in public, and took his hand lightly. But the look she tried to direct at him was pure fire.

They went through the hotel lobby. Brandon made a beeline for the elevator. He hit the button without saying a word to her. When it opened, Sandra muttered an oath.

Two children and their parents stood inside.

Sandra had been hoping she’d have time alone with Brandon in the elevator.

But he surprised her as he walked in. He greeted the adults, then bent down and whispered something she didn’t quite pick up to the kids. Both of them exploded in a fit of giggles and laughter.

Sandra blinked.
He’s good with kids.
She’d never expected that side to Brandon. He said something to them again, and the kids doubled their laughter. He stood and smiled at the parents as the elevator doors shut, and they started up.

Sandra found herself seeing Brandon in a different light. The way he made the kids laugh was absolutely adorable. And… so very endearing. It made Brandon seem much more human, somehow—much less pompous than the man she first encountered outside
Cassie’s Blend.

“Bye!” the two kids sang out in a chorus when the elevator opened to the eleventh floor. She and Brandon walked out, and he waved to them as the doors closed.

“That was impressive.”

“Kids are uncomplicated,” he shrugged. “There’s never any pretense with them.” He nodded down the hall, and placed both hands in his pockets. “That’s your room?”

“Yes,” Sandra said. “Come.”

“Sandra, I—”

“
Come
.” She didn’t give him a chance to protest as she linked her arm through his and led him forward.

They stopped at her door and she had to separate herself from him to fumble for the keycard in her purse. Brandon stood beside her, regarding her movements with an unusual stiffness. He was silent. Watching; waiting.

Finally she found the card and swiped it through the lock. The mechanism whirred to life, allowing her to push open both doors. She turned around to invite him in—and was startled to find his face half an inch from hers, his green eyes locked with hers in a steady, concentrated look.

“Have I ever told you,” he said slowly, his mouth so close to her face she could feel the warmth of his breath, “how very difficult you are to resist?” Both his hands trailed up her arms to stop on her bare shoulders, and he trailed slow, erotic circles along her neck.

Sandra flushed scarlet, but did not look away. “Who says you have to resist?” she offered in her best attempt at a sultry voice.

Brandon groaned, and then his mouth crashed into hers in a passionate frenzy. The first touch of his lips flared the longing that had been building within her—the longing to be possessed entirely by Brandon tonight. She was ready for physical surrender, and the desire to give herself up to this stunning man raged in her like wildfire. Her thirst for Brandon was unquenchable; it was pure attraction. There was no rationalizing its presence. It beat within her like a thundering drum, making her heart throb and the echo thunder in her ears.

Her tongue met his in perfect tandem: exploring, sharing, teasing, exchanging. He ran his teeth over her upper lip, and her tongue trailed the inside of his mouth, each of them battling to draw more and more of the other in. His exhilarating sexual breath
made her head spin, overpowering all her other senses.

Sandra yearned for more, for him to be closer, and threw her arms around his neck to pull him into her. She let one hand wander up to his hair, gripping the scruffy mass of waves and holding tight. His hard body pressed against hers, and with her back tight against the wall, she knew how vulnerable she was to him.

At that moment, he pulled away.

One second they were together; the next they were not. Her numb brain was unable to process anything more than that. Instinctively, she leaned forward for more… and stumbled on shaky knees when she discovered he’d stepped away.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Brandon said in a controlled tone before he turned and walked away. He did not look back.

Tomorrow
? The idea was ludicrous. No, she couldn’t let him go. She was captivated by the amount of need that coursed through her from his touch, driving her wild with the desire to belong to him fully.
Not tomorrow,
she thought.
Tonight
!

She made to go after him, but once her addled brain got her limbs move, Brandon was already at the elevator. Why had he pulled away so abruptly? It made no sense!

She was willing, open, and completely enraptured by him tonight.
Had she been
too
willing? Had she fallen for him too fast? Too hard?

Is that why he rejected me again?

Feeling a flush of heat enter her cheeks from acting the fool, she turned to her room and slammed the door. She wanted to go after Brandon, but she had more dignity than that. She should not have to chase him anymore.

She felt the moisture swelling up in her eyes. She was frustrated, angry, and bitterly disappointed. She leaned against door. Her shaky knees gave out, and she sank to the floor in a dizzy spell.

That disappointment scared her the most. Sandra wasn’t used to being reliant on anybody, especially not a man,
especially
not after her last boyfriend. But if her feelings hinged so much on what Brandon did, how could she
deny
being reliant?

The moisture behind her eyes threatened to turn into tears.

What stung worst was that he’d rejected her at her most susceptible moment. The quickness with which she’d surrendered to him must have been what turned him off so completely. And, with the appalling way she all but begged him to come inside, he probably thought of her as no better than some common whore.

She couldn’t rationalize her feelings. Tears of shame stung her cheeks, and she started to tremble. She knew there was nothing to be ashamed of, not
really
, but after this—the second time he had pushed her willing body away, she began to feel completely hollow inside.

Why would Brandon bring me all the way to Seattle, why would he put me up in this hotel room, why would he string me along on two dates only to leave on a note of bitter emptiness at the end?