Third Time's a Charm

Page 22

His arm flung out, his hand opening the small drawer in the dresser beside the bed. She rose to her knees as he did the same, unwilling to lose the close contact of his body. Her curls hung down her back and cascaded over her arms as she rubbed against him. She heard the sound of foil being torn open.
“Rosebud, you are so damn lovely,” he said and quickly sheathed his erection with a condom.
She turned away and crawled up the mattress. He covered her from behind, kissing her neck and she balanced herself on her hands and knees, ready for him.
Instead he gently bore her back to the bed. “Not this time, love. I much rather look at you.”
“Oh,” she said. The back of her head hit the mattress and his body covered hers, hot and muscular, the metal of his nipple rings making depressions in her chest. She reached between them and pinched one, eliciting a groan. She felt his erection against her and she widened her thighs, desperate to have him inside. “Now, oh God…now.” He thrust deeply and she jolted at his invasion, trying to accommodate his size.
“Christ,” he exhaled and dropped his head to the curve of her neck. Repositioning her hips with his hands, he murmured her name and thrust again, filling her completely this time.
“Sasha,” she moaned and wrapped her legs around his lean hips.
His breath steamed against her skin, his lips and teeth working together to find every sensitive spot along the column of her throat. She dug her nails into his back, relishing the feel of his muscles as they gathered and flexed beneath her hands. His body moved with precision as he filled her.
Letting go of her hips, he sank his hands into her hair, holding her head still as he began to ravage her mouth, the thrusts of his tongue driving her wild. She drew it deeper as she drew him deeper inside of her. Her heart pounded as moan after moan filled the room. Hers and his blending with the steady rhythm of the bed creaking as they moved together.
Straining against him, she unlocked her legs and braced her feet on the mattress. “More,” she whispered in his ear and bit down on the lobe.
As if something had been keeping him in check until that very moment, his hips pistoned and Sasha’s eyes roll to the back of his head with the pleasure of it. Rose felt beyond incredible. Beyond soft and sweet as her body held him so damn tightly within that he’d nearly came when he’d made the initial breach.
Faster and harder he rocked against her, unable to do more than grab her wrists with one hand and pin them against the bed. He loved this, being inside of her, giving her pleasure and he wanted to feel her orgasm around his cock.
Suddenly, her muscles clamped down on him and he groaned at the unspeakable pleasure. “Can you come again?”
Her beautiful blue eyes were glazed with passion when they opened. “Yes…yes.”
Angling his pelvis higher, he rolled his hips and she cried out. He smiled with pure male satisfaction and did it again. This time she whimpered.
“Again, Rosebud. Make those pretty sounds again.” He undulated against her and she responded with more moans until he wasn’t sure what was turning him on more—the feel or sound of his Rose.
Sweat beaded his brow and his hair plastered his forehead as he continued to move. He didn’t care if it took all damn night to make her come this way. His cock jumped and he fought the urge to let go. Okay, so maybe not all night.
He looked down at his lover, watching her beautiful face as she threw her head back. Her breasts were lifted perfectly for him, and he bent down, drawing a red tip into his mouth.
She cried out and her inner muscles clamped down hard on his cock. He sucked deeper and rolled his hips again as she came. As she fluttered around him. As his own orgasm made his erection surge and jump. He continued to thrust as his orgasm poured out of him, wishing that this moment was endless. Wishing that he could stay in her arms forever.
Finally, he released her nipple and it popped out of his mouth.
She giggled, then sighed.
He looked up at her, letting go of her wrists and halting the movements of his hips.
“Hi,” she said, her lashes fluttering to rest on flushed cheeks before lifting again and making his heart turn over.
“Hullo, love.” He kissed the tip of her nose.
Supple arms came around his shoulders, drawing him down to her chest. “Can I sleep with you tonight?” Her voice was barely above a whisper and seemingly guarded.
It was her house. Why in the hell would she…He closed his eyes for a moment.
Mistaking his silence for a no. She began to squirm. “Never mind. I don’t know why I asked. I’m-I’ll just go back to my room now. It’s probably for the best anyway. I mean, Skye used to tell me I tossed and turned all night. So I’m sure I would be a bother and Blackbeard would be jealous.”
Skye and Blackbeard? Rose’s reference to sleeping with someone, actually going to sleep, included her sister and that damn cat? Even as he still rested inside of her, he had to know. “What would your former lovers have to say about that?”
The room was silent as he listened to the rapid beat of her heart. “Nothing.”
“Picked the quiet types, did you?”
“He, they usually drove me back to my store after our…dates.”
Sasha would bet his life she’d meant lover in the singular sense. As in Jason Everett. He turned and placed his elbows on each side of her shoulders. “And the other times?”
Her impossibly blue eyes widened before she looked away. “I walked.”
That asshole had made her walk? “Rose, that’s not…” He let his head drop to her chest and he concentrated on breathing. Slowly. Picturing ways to castrate the son of a bitch helped.
“It was spring, and I like walking. The trees were really pretty, too.”
Oh, good God, she was rambling. Castration was too good for his former lawyer. He would go all out and get rid of everything. “Jason doesn’t deserve your defense.”
“I wasn’t defending him.” Her gaze swung back to his and her mouth formed a perfect O when she realized what she’d said. “Or any other of my many, many lovers.”
He snorted and rolled to sit on the edge of the bed. “It doesn’t matter to me how many lovers you’ve had—one or a hundred and one. But every woman, especially you, deserves to be treated with decency. Dropping you off like the evening post or making you walk isn’t it. That’s what matters to me.”
“You’ve never done that?” she said and he glanced over his shoulder as her chin tilted.
“No, I was taught to treat a woman better than that.” Really? an insidious voice whispered, Did your father teach you to seduce the woman you were ordered to destroy? He grimaced and rose from the bed. “I’ll be back and I expect you to be waiting for me,” he called out as he started for the door.
“Sasha?”
He turned slightly and relief filled him when he saw her climbing under the covers. “Yes?”
Luminous eyes regarded him thoughtfully as she settled against the pillows, her curly black hair a stark contrast to the white pillowcases. “You’re doing it again.”
“It?”
Her smile filled the room and his heart. “Being a very good man.”
Chapter Sixteen
Sasha leaned against the door frame, watching as Rose lay sleeping in his bed. The sheets rose and fell with her steady breathing. He’d taken his time in the bathroom, rehearsing his lines and then striking them from his brain. She deserved better and there was no way in hell he would go another day without telling her the truth. No matter what it cost him.
Crossing the room, he gently nudged her bare shoulder and whispered, “Rosebud, wake up.”
Her forehead wrinkled and her lips puckered, reminding him of Ivy when she was displeased. “I’m sleeping.”
The mattress dipped under his weight as he crawled in beside her, gathering her in his arms. She was deliciously warm, her body pliant as she burrowed into him. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “It can’t wait ‘til morning, sweetheart,” he said against her curls. “Open those beautiful eyes and look at me.”
Black lashes slowly lifted, revealing slumberous blue eyes. At the center he could see his reflection and he swallowed. “I haven’t been entirely honest with you.”
Slumberous gave way to wary as her body began to tense against his and her hands came between them. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t push me away, love,” he said, but she moved to a sitting position and hiked the sheets over her breasts. “It’s not what you think—”
“I should’ve known.” She grabbed the cross pendant and looked away.
Sharp runners of pain unfurled in his chest, cutting into his heart. “Will you give me the chance to explain?”
“Sure, why not? At least I don’t have an audience this time,” she said, her voice flat.
He clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles cracked. “I’m not breaking up with—”
“We’re not in a relationship to begin with, so you don’t have to.”
Closing his eyes, he counted to fifty. This was going so horribly wrong. No matter what he said, she would take it the wrong way. Not that there was a right way. He exhaled and opened his eyes. “This isn’t a one-night-stand. It’s…we’re more than that.” When she didn’t respond, he leaned over the side of the bed, dug through his trouser pocket and found his cell phone. Quickly searching through his text messages, he found the one from his uncle and held out his phone. “Look at this.”
The slightest shake of her head had what was left of his heart in his throat. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m not interested in more of your lies.”
“Here me out, Rosebud.”
“Don’t call me that, Alexander,” she said sharply.
Swallowing his pride, he tried pleading with her. “Please. One look and then I’ll leave. Or stay. Whatever you want.”
Turning slowly, her black curls slid over her shoulders and swung against his chest, cool silk against his overheated skin. Lashes lowered, she took the phone from him. After a moment, the tight lines around her mouth relaxed and she met his gaze, her eyes glittering with unshed tears.
“Is that your mom?”
He scooted closer to her, relieved she didn’t move away. “Yes.”
“So you really weren’t joking when you said Ivy took after her.”
“My dad’s Russian and my mum’s Zimbabwean—African. That a problem for you?”
She gave him an odd look. “No.”
He hadn’t thought it would be for her, but this was the South and some things weren’t so easily accepted, even in the twenty-first century. “My mum’s parents sent her to London for boarding school. Education was really important to them.”
“Is that where she met your dad?”
He nodded. “According to him, it was love at first sight.”
“How long were they together?”
“Thirty-five years.”
“I can’t imagine how difficult it is to be able to be so close to her, but entirely helpless,” she said, her voice soft and compassionate.
A silky thigh brushed his and he had to make himself not touch her, to not press her back against the mattress and make love to her again. “What about your mother?”
“She left the night I turned sixteen,” she said, her tone so matter of fact that he wanted to take her in his arms. “The next morning, Skye and I came downstairs to an empty house. Summer wasn’t around, so…” She shrugged. “I took over everything.”
“That must have been tough to do with school.”
“I dropped out.” She exhaled, her breath shaky. “It was too exhausting trying to work and keep up with my grades. And I was afraid that if I asked for help that Skye would be taken away from me. Later, I studied my tail off and got my GED.”
Breaking his own rule, he captured one of her capable hands. Despite the work she did, they were soft and supple. He admired the hell out of her. Not many sixteen year olds would have bothered to try to keep their family together. “That’s amazing, Rose. What about university…sorry, college?”
“Not everyone’s meant for college,” she said, her fingers curling around his. “Besides, I have a business to run.”
His admiration for her grew. Such an intelligent, sexy woman he had in his bed right now. “Do you miss your mother?”
“Sometimes,” she said. “Mostly when I needed advice on how to take care of a baby. Contrary to popular belief, women aren’t born with the knowledge.”
Pressing a kiss to her knuckles, he placed her hand back in safer territory. “You’re a good provider, love.”
“I try to be.”
“Is your dad around?” He knew absolutely nothing about the man, not even a name. His uncle’s lawyers had informed him that there wasn’t a father listed on Rose’s birth certificate.
“He’s not someone I want in my life.”
He wanted to ask her more, but she looked so uncomfortable that he refrained. There was the possibility she had no idea who her father was. “There’s no shame in your mother raising the three of you by herself.”
“That would be the last thing I’d be ashamed about.” She slid away so that her thigh no longer touched his. “Who’s that man hovering beside your mom?”
The bane of his existence. “My Uncle Vladimir.”
“He looks menacing.” She handed the phone back to him and brushed a strand of hair behind one ear. “I’d already made up my mind to believe you about your mom, even before you showed me this.”