Wicked Page 3
She made his dick twitch. And her appearance outside the gate of his property had been as intentional as the clothes she wore. Good thing the drive was short, because his dick was getting longer with every passing second.
And her scent permeated the cab of the Jeep. Nothing flowery or perfumy, either. No, Blair was much more subtle than that. She let her natural fragrance do the talking for her. Soap, shampoo, and the smell of a nice clean woman was all it took to drive him up the wall.
By the time he took the circular curve and parked in front of the ranch house, he was primed and ready, his dick twitching like a divining rod that had just found the mother lode of water.
Rascal, his collie, came bounding toward them from the back of the house, barking and wagging his tail.
He judged a lot of women by how they treated his dog. Rascal wasn’t what you’d call a good-looking dog. Part sheepdog and Lord only knew what else, he was mostly a mess of dirt and tangled, matted hair with a long tongue just made for copious amounts of slobber.
Most women wouldn’t even get out of the car ’til he shooed Rascal away. Not Blair, though. She opened the door and greeted Rascal with an enthusiastic squeal, petting him and scratching his ears. Soon she was bent down and lavishing attention all over the mangy beast, cooing and making baby sounds. And Rascal was loving every second of it.
Well, she’d passed that test. He shook his head. “Come on inside before he gets his dirty paws all over your white top.”
Blair grinned at Rascal, stood, and patted the dog’s head. Rascal stepped up right beside Blair and kept up with her as they headed toward the house. “Oh, I don’t mind. I love dogs.”
Rascal bounded up the steps ahead of them, shooting through the door as soon as Rand opened it. “We won’t see him the rest of the night. He’ll plop down on one of my air conditioner vents and pass out.”
Blair snorted. “Can’t blame him. It’s damn hot out there.”
“He hangs out in the barn all day where’s it cool and shady. Don’t let his sad look fool you.” Rand realized he’d never had Blair in his house before. Hell, he rarely brought women here. Home was his refuge, his place to get away from everything and everyone. To bring a woman in here would be an invasion of his personal space, his privacy. It was a rare occurrence.
Blair, however, was different. He wanted her here, had wanted her here for years. The fact that she showed up on the edge of his property meant something to him. A first step. He’d waited a long time for this.
“You gonna fix my car?” she asked, skimming her fingertips over the polished surface of his grandma’s antique end table.
“Too hot outside right now. Thought we’d relax a bit, have a beer or two, and talk. Wait for it to cool down outside.”
She pulled her sunglasses off and tucked them in her purse, then laid the bag on the table and slipped into the kitchen to wash the dog goobers off her hands. “I suppose I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”
“You always have a choice, Blair.” He wasn’t going to let her take the easy way out. If what was going to happen was what he thought was going to happen, then it was going to be her conscious decision. It didn’t work any other way.
“Not always.” After she dried her hands, she wandered through his living room as if she were taking inventory. Okay, so he was a bachelor, and it wasn’t pretty. A few hand-me-down antique pieces here and there, but otherwise completely threadbare. He kept meaning to do something about that, but frankly, who cared? He never had before. She turned to face him. “How about that beer?”
He grabbed two bottles from the fridge, returning and handing her one.
“Sit down.”
She chose the single recliner. Figured. Safer that way. God forbid she should park on the sofa. He might actually sit next to her.
“I’m sorry about your granddad,” she said, and from the tone of her voice, he knew she meant it. His grandfather had passed on a month ago, though he’d been in a nursing home for two years. The last of his relatives were gone now. All that was left of his family was this house.
“Thanks.”
He had to give her this: she was calm. Or a damn good actress. The tension between them, as it had always been, sizzled the air between them. There was a combustible quality about their altercations. Even the simplest conversation tended to turn down a stormy road, sexual tension crackling between them.
Even now, without her having to say a thing, her body language told him everything she didn’t want him to know. Her back held ramrod straight as if the slightest shift in posture would reveal too much of what she was feeling. Her breasts rising with each sharp intake of breath—oh yeah—that meant she was well aware there was a man in the room. And he was sure as hell aware of her. Every, lick-able inch of her. The way her red hair caught and held the light as it streamed in through the half-opened shutters, surrounding her face like a fiery halo. Her skin, tan and glistening with some kind of body lotion that made it sparkle and smelled like pure, springtime rain. Mixed within all that was the unmistakable musky scent of a woman primed for sex.
He took a long swallow of beer, the cool liquid rolling down his throat and at least quenching the fire there. It did nothing to cool the flame between his legs, though. Then again, nothing would. Not until he had Blair stripped, spread-eagled, and begging him to fuck her. Once those sweet words passed her lips, he’d drive his cock deep in her cunt and finally have what he’d wanted for fifteen long years.
He’d never needed a woman more than Blair. He’d always wanted Blair. And he knew damn well Blair wanted him. But she’d built this wall around herself where he was concerned. Instead, she spent her time with wimpy, useless, pansy-assed toadies who were worthless in and out of the bedroom. No wonder she never kept a man around for long. What good were they?
What Blair showed to the world and what Blair really needed were two different things. Sometimes Rand wondered if he was the only man who saw underneath that cool, controlling exterior to the frightened woman who was afraid to express her true needs.
All she had to do was say the word, and he’d open the world to her. He’d give her everything she’d ever wanted. He’d make her come over and over again.
Come on baby. You know I can give it to you. Just ask me.
Because the one thing Rand would not do is take. If Blair wanted it, she’d have to ask him for it.
Once she did, though, there’d be no going back.
* * *
* * *
If Blair held this position for much longer, her back was going to go into spasms. It was like a game of chicken between them. A stare-down until one of them flinched. And she wasn’t about to flinch. But Goddamit, Rand was staring at her. And not just staring at her, but devouring her with his probing, enigmatic eyes that always seemed to be able to see right through her. As if he knew all her deep, dark secrets and was just waiting for her to blurt them out.
She’d made it this far. She was inside his house, she could see the line of his erection in his jeans and knew he was hot for her. Why the hell hadn’t he made a move on her yet? Did she have to do a striptease on his coffee table to get his attention? It wasn’t like she showed up at his place in her sexiest outfit on a regular basis.
Grab a clue, Rand. I’m here, I’m sexy and horny as hell. Fuck me, goddammit!
But no. He continued to stare at her as if he expected her to make the first move instead. Surely she hadn’t read him wrong all these years. He couldn’t be like all the other men she’d dated, could he? Spineless, weak, too afraid to take what they wanted? Had she misjudged him?
Disappointment washed over her, her mood souring so fast and making her stomach ache with such a hollow emptiness it almost made her cry. How could she have been so wrong about him? The games they played, the way he teased her, touched her, tormented her all these years with promises of the best sex of her life. No way could she have been wro
ng about her body’s reaction. No freakin’ way!
But still, he sat there, while she was all but spreading her legs in front of him. Was he waiting for an engraved invitation? Her verbal permission to come over and touch her? That so wasn’t like Rand, wasn’t at all like the man who’d damn near fucked her by the side of the road yesterday.
If it wasn’t for the bet, she’d get up and leave. Instead, she had to stay here and fuck this jackass who was beginning to annoy the hell out of her. Fine. The sooner she got it over with, the better. She stood, took a long guzzle of her beer, then swaggered over to the sofa, plopping herself down next to Rand. She tilted her head down and looked at him through lowered lashes, one of her sexiest moves.
“What is it that you want, Blair?” he asked, a slight smile curving along his generous bottom lip.
“You need me to spell it out for you?”
“I need you to tell me what you want. What you really want.”
His gray gaze challenged, daring her to be the one to say the words. But Blair was an expert at this game, knew how to manipulate men better than any woman she knew. She leaned into him, pressing her breast against the solid flesh of his arm. “Why don’t you tell me what you’d like to do?”
He shifted and pushed a knee in between hers, his gaze direct and intense. “I’m not the kind of man to tell you what I might like, Blair. I’m going to tell you what will happen if you stay here. I want you on your knees in front of me sucking my cock. I want to fuck that sassy little mouth of yours until I shoot a hot load of come between those beautiful lips. Then I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to tie you to my bed, your legs spread, your pretty pussy open for my view. I’m going to lick and suck your clit until you scream my name and beg me to fuck you. Then I’m going to drive my cock hard and deep inside until you’re squirming underneath me and pleading to come. After that I’m going to turn you over on your belly, spread those sweet cheeks and spear my dick between them into your tight ass. I’m going to fuck you all night long, all weekend long, until you can’t remember any man you’ve been with before, because no man has fucked you like I’m going to.”
Oh holy hell. The room temperature raised ten degrees in an instant, and she’d just gone up in flames. Blair swallowed, parting her lips to breathe in great gasps of air, stunned at the images his words created. No man had ever spoken to her like that. The men she chose damn near asked permission before kissing her. Rand had gone way beyond asking permission. He’d given her a graphic outline of every wicked thing he intended to do to her.
“My patience is wearing thin, Blair. You’re here, and I want you. You don’t want this, now is the time to say so, because I won’t be asking for a goddamn thing this weekend. I’ll be taking. You stay, you’re mine. Any way I want you, anytime I want you.”
Oh, God. He knew. Somehow, he knew what she craved, knew what she hadn’t had all these years. All those men, they’d never known what kind of woman she was, what kind of needs she had. But Rand did. He was offering her everything she’d ever wanted, and everything she feared.
The one thing she wanted most of all, the one thing that scared her most: to completely submit to a man.
And not just any man, but Rand McKay.
Her body was on fire, her nipples hard and straining against the soft cotton of her top, her pussy juices coating the thin strip of panty covering her crotch. Her clit swelled, the knot throbbing with an incessant pulse. The thought of what he could do to her—what he could do for her.
He almost made her come yesterday without even touching her pussy. Without even rubbing her clit.
She’d had nothing but lousy sex for the past fifteen years.
She had a bet to uphold.
It was one weekend, not forever. The chance to throw out her inhibitions and give up control to a man. No commitment other than giving in to her deepest, darkest, most wicked desires.
Just for the weekend.
After the weekend, it was over. He had no power over her, no control, no expectation that this would last beyond the weekend.
What harm would it do to indulge in her fantasies, to experience what she already knew would be the greatest sex of her life? Quite possibly the only chance she’d have at such phenomenal sex.
It wouldn’t do any harm at all. As long as she remained in control, as long as she knew that once the weekend was over, this game was over.
As long as she didn’t involve her heart, then when the weekend was over, she could walk away with a smile on her face.
A big-ass wicked smile.
She raised her chin, refusing just yet to give up complete control. “You want it. Then take it, Rand.”
three
Rand watched the play of emotion cross Blair’s face as she spat out the words. Indecision, a shadow of fear. Even anger, then resolution. She held her chin in a stubborn tilt as if daring him to command her to do anything she didn’t want to do.
She didn’t yet understand. But before the weekend was through, she’d realize she was the one who held all the power.
He stood and looked down at her, holding his hand out. For the longest few seconds she stared at it, then slid her warm fingers in his palm. He pulled her to her feet, jerking her roughly against his chest.
“I’ve waited fifteen years for this,” he said, then slanted his mouth across hers, breathing in the scent of cinnamon.
The first touch of his mouth to hers was wildfire. Uncontrolled, unchecked flames scorched him. He knew it was going to be like this, yet he still wasn’t prepared for how goddamned hot she was, how perfect her body felt pressed alongside his. Her full breasts crushed against his chest, her hips nestled against his pelvis. He wanted to touch her and kiss her everywhere all at once.
Slow. Down. His heart pumped like a churning freight train as he moved his lips over hers, digging his fingers in the lush softness of her hair, devouring her mouth and licking at her tongue like it was the nectar of the gods. His cock was ramrod stiff and insistent on breaking free of the denim, straining his zipper. His balls ached, his fingers itching to wrap themselves around the firm globes of her sweet ass.
It wasn’t until he was damn near delirious that he realized the only one spiraling out of control was him. Blair was stiff, unyielding, holding back. Though her palms were braced against his chest, her mouth responding under his, she wasn’t participating. She was following his lead, but not in the way he wanted her to.
Blair was scared to let go. Which meant he was going to have to take over and force it. Take the control away from her so she wasn’t acquiescing but being forced to participate. He knew the game; it was the same one they’d been playing for fifteen years. Obviously they’d have to continue to play it.
He slowed down his kiss, forced his racing pulse from its breakneck speed into something more manageable. Time to gather his wits and take over this situation before Blair turned into a steel girder in his arms.
He broke the kiss and stepped away from her. Her eyes shot open, and she stared at him, frowning.
“What?” she asked.
“On your knees.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” He flipped open the button on his jeans, his cock pounding in anticipation. “Get down on your knees.”
She looked to his crotch, her gaze riveted on the slow slide of his zipper as he drew it down.
“You’re joking.”
“Do I look like I’m joking?” He drew his shirt over his head and tossed it on the sofa behind her. Her gaze never left the vee of his jeans. Not until those gorgeous baby blues took a long, leisurely look up and over his hips, stomach, chest, finally focusing on his face again. Only this time she wasn’t wide-eyed with shock.
She was pissed. But beyond the frown and tight lips there was a fire in her eyes that hadn’t been there before, a passion that had been lacking when she had come to him “willingly.”
Okay, so she liked to be told what to do. He could sure as hell live with that. “I mean now, Blair. Do what I tell you or I’ll make you do it.”
He was going to enjoy every fucking minute of bending her to his will. And deep down, he knew Blair would, too.
Game on.
* * *
* * *
Blair sucked in a heaving breath of righteous indignation. Down on her knees.
He could damn well kiss her ass if he thought she’d drop like some subject to a king and suck his cock just because he commanded it. They were kissing. Things were going fine. Then what the hell happened?
Okay, so maybe the earth wasn’t moving for her, but it was okay.
And so maybe as soon as he commanded her to drop down in front of him, her clit quivered and her nipples tightened. But that didn’t mean she was going to do it.
“You’re not moving,” he said, his voice lowering an octave.
One damn sexy octave, too.
“I don’t intend to. This is stupid. I’m not playing—”
“And neither am I,” he interrupted, grabbing her wrist and jerking her against him. In seconds they had switched positions, and Rand was seated on the couch with Blair belly down across his lap. “This has been a long time coming.”
Her breath momentarily left her diaphragm, or she would have been screaming. Instead, all she could manage was a grunt of outrage as Rand placed one firm hand on her ass, sliding her skirt up over her hips and ripping off the tiny scrap of her thong to bare her buttocks.
“Such a fine, firm ass you have, Blair. I’ve been dying to get my hands on it.”
She couldn’t help it. She flooded with moisture as he swept his huge hand over her ass. Anticipation swelled her clit, and she tensed, waiting for it.
Needing it.
When the first swat hit her left cheek, she bit back a moan, refusing to let him know how much it excited her. But oh, it did. He knew just how hard to spank her. The sting was hot, sweet, and he followed it up by caressing the spot, sliding his hand down over her thighs and back up again, then swatted her other cheek.