Brazen (B-Squad #1) (9 page)

“You sound like you’re just waiting to give out advice.” Needing a moment to wrangle his wants back into submission, he finished the fruity drink.

Yasmin pressed herself close and whispered in his ear, “Fuck her. Right here. Right now.”

“What?” he asked.

“You heard me,” she said, her tone firm and unrelenting. “Let the rest of them know that she may play with them, but she belongs to you.”

It made perfect sense to the caveman inside him. Bianca wanted him just as much as he wanted her. They belonged together. They both knew it. Why shouldn’t everyone see it? Why shouldn’t everyone know that?

He set the glass down on a passing waiter’s tray and grabbed a new one. “I think you’re right.”

“I always am,” she said. “Remember that.”

But Taz barely heard her. He was already halfway across the pool.

B
ianca took
another sip of the signature cocktail she’d been nursing since she got to the party and scanned the crowd for any sign of Gidget. The guy with the half-hard dick that kept
accidentally
brushing her hip finished his joke. She let out a loud laugh and then, pretending to lose her balance, she grabbed onto his arm and subtly used the steadying move to push him away.

On the whole, everyone at the party had been very cool, as lifestylers tended to be, but the guy to her left was not the best representative of the clothing-optional, sexually uninhibited crowd. He was the kind of douche canoe that ended up getting handsy at every office happy hour. Total prick material—and she wasn’t talking about his actual cock. Maybe being with Taz had spoiled her, but her standards were a little higher than that.

Mr. Douche Canoe was halfway through a story about the time a waiter threw up in the canapés during a party on his yacht, when his face turned ashen.

“Are you okay?”

He looked over her left shoulder. That’s when every nerve in her body sizzled to life and she
knew
.

“He’s behind me, isn’t he?”

The other man gulped and nodded his head before backing away.

Bianca swallowed her curse. They weren’t going to get anywhere if Taz couldn’t bury his caveman tendencies long enough for her to talk to a few naked men.

Pasting on her most sugary fake smile, she turned to greet her “husband.” She only got about ninety degrees before Taz encircled her waist, whipped her the rest of the way around, dipped her backwards and planted a kiss on her that had the crowd clapping. She could hear the cheers just barely above the blood rushing in her ears and the unmistakable sound of someone moaning in ecstasy.

Oh shit.
That was
her
moaning. That is not what was supposed to be happening—but it was and toe-curlingly, amazingly so.

In a last-ditch effort for sanity, she pushed him back. Breathing hard, her entire body aching for him, she forced him back two paces.

“What are you doing?” she asked, even as her body clamored for more.

His lips curled into a slow, sexy smile. “Making sure everyone here knows that you may play with them, but you belong to me.”

She traced a fingernail over the curve of his biceps, adding just enough pressure to put a temporary white line on his brown skin and silently get her point across in case he missed the ice in her eyes. “Are you really peeing a circle around me? Now? At this particular point in time?”

Not even the brown-colored contacts could shade the wicked glint in his eyes. “Yes.”

Desire—hot, wet and undeniable—unfolded in her belly even as her temper flared. “You don’t own me.”

“I know that,” he said, reaching out and tugging her close so that their bodies melded together, his hand splayed across her lower back, searing her skin. “But what you need to realize is that you own me—body and soul.” He dipped his head lower, delivering a devastating kiss that was little more than a brush of his lips but still shook her to the core. “You have since that first night. Kitten, I’m yours.”

He didn’t kiss her again, but he didn’t move away. In this in-between moment, her brain tried to catch up with what her electrified body already knew. It was her play. Either way she went, she risked the kind of heartache that could knock her sideways and then come back to finish the job. Life was such a bitch that way. But no one had ever won a fight by staying in a crouched defensive position, and she wasn’t about to try to be the first.

“We can’t go back to what it was before,” she said, her mouth so close to his that her lips tingled in anticipation. “I need to know the real you.”

“All you have to do is ask,” he said, bending down whip quick to hook his arm behind her knees and lift her up into his arms. “But don’t even think about doing that now. I have other plans for the next few hours.”

He carried her through the laughing crowd to a cabana on the border between the pool and the beach. A bed draped in fresh off-white Egyptian cotton sheets took up most of the space under the high canopy. The teal voile fabric cascading down from the peak to the ground was see-through enough to give the impression of privacy without actually providing any at all. And with every ocean breeze, the fabric moved in waves, opening up in some areas to give the poolside audience an unobstructed view of what was going on in the cabana.

Excitement and lust careened through her. “They’ll see us.”

Taz lowered her until her feet touched the ground, Bianca facing away from him, exposed to the others. One hand cupping her breast and the other dipping between her legs, he kissed the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. “Exactly.”

* * *

Taz felt it the moment Bianca agreed to his exhibitionist fantasy and relaxed against him—her center soft and slick under his fingertips, her breast full and heavy in his hand. Anticipation threaded through each breath. It was like those moments before the bell started a fight, when it felt like he owned the world. He’d stand in his corner, one gloved hand resting lightly on the top rope, and know he’d already won.

Take the win when you could get it. That’s what his old manager had always said. Every minute with Bianca was a win, even during that first night at Bisu Manor when he’d pushed every boundary she had. The memory of how she’d responded to his public display made his balls tighten.

“You thought I’d forgotten how much you like to put on a show,” he said.

“No more than you like giving one.” It came out full of sass and confidence, but she couldn’t hide how her pulse picked up.

“True.” He brought his face close to hers so they were cheek to cheek and pulled her back tighter against his front. “I love feeling you press against me when your knees get weak.” He slid his fingers back and forth through her slick folds. So soft and wet for him. “I get so fucking hard whenever I hear that soft mewling sound you make, when you’re so close you can’t hold back.” He rolled her hard nipple between two fingers, pulling the peak just enough to make her gasp with pleasure. “But it’s more than that. Do you know why I want to watch their faces as you come all over my fingers?”

She clenched around his fingers. “No.”

“Because they get to watch, but I get to have you.” Pre-cum wet the tip of his dick as he rocked against her plump ass. “You’re mine. Now. Always. Say it.”

“Ta—”

Releasing her nipple, he grabbed her chin and quickly turned her face to the side so he could capture her lips before she could give away his real name. He plunged his tongue inside her sweet mouth. Tasting her like that while he fingers were buried inside her and two dozen people looked on was a lethal bit of heaven.

Breaking the kiss, he fought to regain his focus. If he wasn’t careful, he’d lose himself in her wanton body and he couldn’t do that yet. He had to make her understand this wasn’t just fucking. It never had been between them.

“Kitten,” he said, putting a low warning into his tone as he took her nipple between his fingers. “That’s not the word I want to hear.”

Her nipple stiffened to a diamond point and he twisted it with just the kind of tender roughness she liked. Bianca exhaled a breathy moan that made his cock ache.

“Do you want to come?” he asked. “Tell me.”

She dropped her head back so it rested in the pocket of his shoulder, the long blonde hair of her wig spilling down his chest and teasing his nipple. “Yes.”

“Then say it.” He stilled the two fingers buried deep inside her warm pussy. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” she said, her voice quiet and strained with need.

It was more plea than statement, and he had to have more.

Resuming the slow rub of his fingers against the bundle of nerves inside her entrance, he added a twist to his wrist that brought the heel of his hand in contact with her hard clit. Executing a series of slow, deliberate rotations, he increased the pressure until her thighs quaked against his. Her ass cheeks squeezed his cock, nestled between the globes. She was close to breaking apart in his arms, so fucking close.

“Say it louder.”

Only her sweet, unintelligible groans sounded as her hips undulated, urging him to take her where she wanted to go.

“Oh no, Kitten. You know that’s not how this is going to happen.” He released her breast that he’d been cupping and curled his arm around her narrow waist, holding her tight so she couldn’t rock herself to orgasm against his hand. “They need to hear you.”

She bit down on her bottom lip, tugging it between her teeth, as her body tightened. It was her tell.

He froze as she pulsed around his fingers. “I’ll take you there. You know I will. Always.”

He moved inside her again—not leisurely as before but harder, faster, more demanding. Again and again he plunged inside of her, making sure the heel of his hand rubbed against her swollen clit in quick rotations. The warm air in the cabana smelled of her sweet scent and sizzled with electric anticipation. Onlookers outside the see-through curtains had stopped their quiet conversations, drinks forgotten, as they watched. No longer aware or not giving a damn, Bianca was lost in the moment as she writhed against him in time with his fast fingers.

“Say it.”

She tensed in his arms, her spine bowing. “I’m yours,” she shouted as her orgasm washed over his fingers and then she melted back against him.

Scooping her up into his arms and carrying her to the bed, he marveled at the extent of her trust in him, even after everything that had happened; it overwhelmed him.

This was love. She may still be fighting it, but he’d given in months ago. He’d never been good with words or feelings or anything resembling something that would happen in a chick flick, but if he had to bare his soul to her to get her to understand that he wasn’t going anywhere—ever—then he’d figure out a way to do it.

That would be later. Now, he was going to show her.

* * *

Surfacing after an orgasm that had turned her to melted butter, Bianca blinked her eyes open and stretched out on the bed, the cream sheets soft under her back. A languid satisfaction filled her, but didn’t dispose the deep yearning for Taz thrumming through her.

He stood at the end of the bed, watching her, as he slowly stroked his hard cock. The sight sent a thrill flashing through her, soaking her pussy and setting off a tingle that extended from her clit to the rest of her body. The wanting was almost as good as the orgasm itself—almost. He
was
a very talented man with magical fingers—not to mention the rest of him.

“I like the looks of that,” she said, rolling over and crawling toward him.

He put a hard grip on his dick as he stroked toward the swollen head, squeezing out a fat drop of pre-cum. “Ready for more?”

She stopped at the edge of the bed and glanced up at him through her thick lashes. “You have no idea.” Keeping her gaze locked on his handsome face, tight with need, she licked up the drop with the tip of her tongue.

He inhaled a sharp breath as she swallowed his cock, letting him fill her mouth. Flicking her tongue around his girth as she pressed forward and pulled back, she relished the blissfully tortured groans he made and the nonsensical encouragement falling from his lips. She didn’t have anything to rub against, but couldn’t help but rotate her hips in time with her mouth’s actions. God, nothing got her as hot as sucking this man’s cock and giving him the same near-blinding pleasure he lavished on her.

Balancing on her knees, she reached around behind him, sank her fingernails into the muscular curve of his ass and pulled him forward until his balls hit her chin. The crown tittered, but she had little use for them. They could watch. She didn’t care.

This wasn’t about the gawkers. This was about her and Taz. It always had been. Ever since the moment she’d walked into Devil’s Dip Gym, they’d been on a crash course to each other. Finding him that night at the Bisu Manor orgy during her search for Gidget had only pushed them together faster. The speed of it all scared her then. It still scared her. And when Tamara had shown up, she was the physical manifestation of Bianca’s fears of once again being left heartbroken and alone.