The Price Of Scandal(86)

I glanced at the visible erection in his shorts. “I think I can make some safe assumptions.”

Gently, he lowered himself over me and pressed a soft, silky kiss to my mouth.

The shrubs parted, and Brutus grumbled his way across the patio to the grill.

“Your sous chef is demanding your attention,” I said, stroking my hand over his jaw.

“How are you?” he asked, brushing my hair off my forehead. “Are you tired?”

I thought about it. “Yes. But in a good way. Not an edge-of-physical exhaustion way,” I promised.

“A lot happened today,” he reminded me.

I could feel the nudge of his hard-on against my leg. “I have a feeling there’s more to come.”

He removed his sunglasses and pushed mine up so we were eye to eye.

It was a long, loaded look.

“You terrify me,” he admitted finally.

“What are you talking about?” I scoffed.

“You don’t need me. You don’t need anyone.”

He was so serious, so broody.

“There’s more to a relationship than necessity, Price.”

“How would you know? It’s been two years since you’ve dated someone.”

A nugget from his dossier on me, I supposed. I wished I had one on him. I wondered if Jane did. “How long has it been since you’ve dated someone monogamously for longer than a month?”

He pressed his crotch into my hand and toyed with the string of my top. “I haven’t the faintest idea.”

I reached between us and cupped his shaft. He hissed in a breath at the contact. “Would you rather be needed or wanted?”

“I’d rather be whatever keeps me near you,” he confessed. “And that also scares the daylights out of me.”

I’d confessed a fear to him today, and he was returning the favor. A vulnerability for a vulnerability.

Brutus gave a short warning rumble. Flames were rising from the grill.

“I like my burgers medium rare, not meteorite.”





The second round of burgers were perfection, and we managed to squeeze in a quick swim before Derek insisted on cleaning up. I returned to my lounger for a few more minutes of relaxation. The lowering sun baked me into a blissful oblivion. I was almost asleep when I felt the tug at my bikini cup.

“Mmm,” I murmured as a warm mouth closed around the tip.

I opened one eye and watched Derek’s cheeks hollow. Impatiently, he brushed the other cup down and played his fingers over that nipple.

It felt so good. So decadent. The late sun. The steady thrum of the surf. The pull of Derek’s mouth on me.

His erection was barely contained by his swim trunks.

“Someone might see us,” I chastised, my voice breathy.

“What a pity.”

He stroked his tongue over my nipple and then leaned across me, latching on to the other one. It felt like fire spiraling through my body. My core pulsed emptily around nothing, and I squeezed my knees together, trying to find some relief from the building pressure.

“You taste so good,” he said, pausing mid-suck.

The man was a wizard. Five seconds of playing with my breasts, and I was ready to come.

The crown of his cock peeked out of the waistband of his trunks. I reached for him, but he grabbed my wrist.

“I’ve thought about this one for a while,” he said, nuzzling at my breast.

He gave my wrist a squeeze and released it. Brushing his stubble across my nipple, he tugged the strings on my bikini bottom loose.

I opened my knees to the sides.

“And how does this one go?” I teased, opening my knees wide to the sides.

Too lightly for the friction I needed, he skimmed his hand under the fabric and over my mound. Back and forth, making me shiver.

“Well, since you asked,” he said, rising on his knees and settling between my legs. He untied the strings on the other side, folding my bikini down, baring me to the fading daylight and his gaze. “I’ll suck on these rosy nipples,” he said, pinching one between his fingers.

“And?” I prodded.

He leaned over me, his cock not close enough for me to brush against.

“And you’ll touch yourself.”

“And?” I squeaked.

“And I’ll touch myself.”

I was dizzy with the idea.

“And we’ll come together?” I told him.

He nodded, head already lowering to my breast. “We’ll come together,” he promised.

It was my last coherent thought as those brutal lips closed over the peak of my breast. My nipples worshipped him, vying for attention.

The rays from the sun warmed my bare skin, and it felt natural for me to slide one hand between my legs to tease between the folds that were already so desperately wet.

Derek growled his approval against my breast.

I watched in fascination as he took his cock out of his swim trunks. So powerfully masculine. Veined and rigid. The head was nearly purple. He stroked down to the root and held there, squeezing with a thin edge of violence.

Oh, yes.

“I fantasized about finding you out here like this. Napping in the sun,” he said, moving back to the other nipple. He stroked the flat of his tongue over it and watched it harden and strain toward him.