Imminent Conquest (2 page)

"Tell me what you want me to do to you.” James lightly pinched her nipple and extended it.

The pleasurable pain travelled down to her pussy. “I want you to fuck me."

He got down to his knees and spread her thighs even wider. His tongue rasped against her pleasure pearl, lapping with short, delicious strokes one second, and nibbling the next.

She couldn't resist looking at him in admiration, at his broad shoulders, his short honey blond hair, his narrow, trim waist. How could she be anything but thrilled to spend the rest of her life with such a delicious man?

"Come for me,” he whispered hoarsely.

Nicole didn't need much more urging. She pressed her pussy over his face and rubbed her clit against his lips. Her muscles tensed before the moment of release burst upon her. She cried out but he continued to torment her with his tongue, his moist lips and his teeth.

"No, no more,” she begged.

"Why?"

"Because I can't take any more.” The words were hardly out yet she climaxed again, whimpering with delight. As her bare back arched, she felt him move away from her body. He kissed her. His mouth tasted of her honeyed juice.

When she heard the sigh of the zip on his shorts, she took a deep breath. His tongue did wonders but there was no substitute for his cock driving deep into her wet sheath. When the tip of his erection pushed against her damp opening, her toes curled inside her sneakers. This was the moment she lived for each day, when James took her.

Slowly, he slid into her, inch by agonising inch, before he stopped, completely hilted into her.

"Do you like that?” he murmured, nibbling on her lips with the taste of her essence.

"Yes,” she whispered.

He began to thrust, tentatively at first, then faster and harder. He lifted her ankles and placed them around his waist, driving himself deeper into her. She moaned as she buried her head against his shoulder, feeling giddy happiness sweep through her. He was the only man for her. She was as certain of that as she was of the sun rising each morning.

His neck arched and she saw in her mind how his neck muscles became rigid cords and he held his breath, waiting for release. She couldn't ask for more in a man than she had in James Carmichael.

When he exploded inside her, she crested the top of the mountain. His hot cum shot into her channel. Her bones seemed to melt. His hard body felt so good against her soft curves, as if they had always been meant for each other.

"I love you,” he said, flicking his tongue over the crown of her ear.

"I can't think of another man I would like to spend the rest of my life with."

He laughed. “I hope not."

"What if I was thinking of another man?” she teased.

"Then I would have to abduct you, tie you up in a basement somewhere, take away all your clothes, and change your mind."

"I don't think you'll have to do that.” But she might tease him so she could get a taste of what he threatened.

"Too bad. I was looking forward to the abduction part."

She giggled. “Of course you were."

"You'll come for dinner, won't you, Mrs Carmichael?” He traced the outline of her breast.

"Yes.” Nicole blushed to hear him call her by a name that wasn't hers yet. She shook her head, her heart pounding in excitement.

"Tell me what you feel for me.” He untied her hands and kissed the pulse beating in each wrist.

"I can't."

"You can't? Why not, Mrs Carmichael?"

She threw her arms around his neck. “Because I'm too much in love with you."

He lowered himself over her, fitting his engorged cock against the apex of her thighs. She couldn't stop herself from reaching down and squeezing his slippery rod. “You're so hard."

"Only for you, Mrs Carmichael."

"When are we getting married?"

"Tomorrow."

"But we can't,” she said aghast. “How will I get all the wedding preparations done in time?"

"We'll elope."

"But your father will be so hurt.” His father was the kindest man she knew, always ready to give a helping hand to whoever asked.

"Okay. How about September fourth?"

That still only gave her three months. “How about a Christmas wedding? Wouldn't that be dreamy? Pine trees all lit up, candles flickering and everything red, green and glittering gold."

He lifted his chin and laughed into the air. “That's too far away. I thought you were eager to marry me."

"I am, Jamie, I am."

They made love once more before, momentarily sated, they returned to his car. Neither had any idea the next few hours would turn their worlds upside down.

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"I can't wear this! It's not much more than a bath towel!"

Dismayed, Nicole Harris stared at her reflection in the mirror on the back of the bedroom door. The burgundy dress didn't hide much. Her back was bare, almost to her derriere. If she bent forward, her ass would show. If she attempted to lean back, her breasts would pop out of the scanty bodice.

Her fiance frowned. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down but he quickly disguised his approval. “The salesclerk said you'd love it."

"What does she know about me?” Nicole grumbled, hating to admit her reflection was attractive—in a sluttish way. The only way a woman would wear a dress like this was if she was looking for a man, and Nicole wasn't in the market. She had someone who loved her, someone she could love in return. It didn't matter that he had a receding hairline, or the beginnings of a spare tyre. It wasn't physical appearance that counted in a relationship. No, it was the emotional makeup, how a couple interacted with each other.

"Maybe she's got a lot of experience. You look like Cinderella.” He stepped closer and kissed her lips a little too quickly.

Nicole shrugged and sighed. Apparently the transformation in her appearance had little effect on him. To her dismay, a brief glance at his crotch showed he wasn't excited in the least. She had teased and taunted him with her nudity, but nothing seemed to work when it came to seducing him. Why had she given a fleeting thought that a sluttish little dress might work?

She really didn't want to go to his staff party. He came home each night and described the biker types he worked with in great detail, how the men spat on the ground, smoked dope and wore earrings. What kind of crowd was that to hang out with, even if it was only for a few hours? She would rather have curled up with a good mystery book and passed the evening reading while Brad watched TV with a sweating beer in hand.

He watched her now with speculative eyes as she twirled a strand of dark brown hair into a lazy curl resting against her cheek. Pearl earrings from the local Shop N’ Drop dangled from her earlobes.

She sensed that being in the little burgundy dress wouldn't achieve what she might have hoped for when she'd first spotted it in the tissue paper it had been wrapped in. Mentally she counted the months that had gone by since Brad and she had last peeled off their clothes and fallen into bed. Six months. Roughly the time he had been working for Anessa Rendering. She frowned.

Was there some kind of connection between working with dead animals all day and no desire for sex? Was it ludicrous to think that? Or was there some kind of scar Brad's wife had left him with? After a ten-year marriage, she had made his life hell in a messy divorce that had left him all but penniless.

It had been almost a year since Brad and Nicole had become reacquainted with each other again, oddly enough at a party at the law firm where she worked as a secretary. Years earlier, they had gone to high school together. Brad and she had shared an apartment for a few months before she'd bought this house in Eastwynd. The law company she worked for had requested the transfer. Now she was an executive secretary in charge of the Eastwynd Law Offices of Bessman and Overton.

Her stomach clenched. Could she persuade him to make love to her, perhaps avoid going to the party? She seductively strolled up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, raising her face to his. “Make love to me?"

There had been a time when she wouldn't have had to beg a man to make love to her. She repressed a sigh of longing. Those days were gone. Forever. There was no way to bring back the blissful past.

"Why?” he asked, taking a step back out of her tenacious hold.

She suddenly felt like a cat rubbing itself against a fuzzy carpet. “Because that's what men and women do."

"Like a bitch in heat?"

Nicole couldn't help herself from trembling with barely concealed anger. Making love wasn't about being in heat. It was about being madly in love, wanting to share two bodies and make them one.

She changed gears. “I appreciate the gesture,” she said, referring to his buying the dress, “but I really can't wear this.” She headed for the bed where her blue two-piece dress lay in soft, long folds. The burgundy dress left a lot of skin exposed and made her feel self-conscious. She didn't mind dressing like that in front of her fiance, but she did mind going out in public wearing next to nothing.

"You're not thinking of changing, are you?"

"I'm planning on it, unless you want to see this all night.” To demonstrate, she squirmed, pulling the dress's neckline upward before she tugged downward on the hem. Neither action did much to cover her naked skin. The dress might as well have been moulded to her body.

Brad's face paled and his eyes clouded over with sadness. Inwardly, she took a deep breath. He had never before purchased anything so personal. Reminding him to pick up a carton of milk or a can of tuna was hard enough. Could this have something to do with his ex-wife, Meg?

Between her work and her personal life, Nicole had little trouble imagining she could turn this living arrangement into a comfortable one for both of them. He was a simple man with simple needs, but the hurt from his first marriage went deep through his psyche. She had never told him about her past. There had been no need to dig up what once had been.

Their eyes met, his lacklustre grey. He grimaced and started to walk from the room. Not able to bear the hurt, she ran after him and grabbed his arm. He stood three inches taller than her five-foot-three. Deep bags under his eyes marred his usually nonchalant look. Uncharitably, she thought he looked like a penguin in his frothy white shirt, black jacket and trousers. She didn't want to hurt him, especially now that he was starting the long healing process after the divorce.

"I don't want to hurt your feelings, but the dress is a bit short,” she insisted, her eyes pleading with his for understanding. “What if I cut your pant legs up near your thigh and then trimmed your shirt so there's more material on the floor than on you? How would that make you feel?"

His drawn smile tugged at her heart strings. He patted the top of her hand. “You look really sexy in it,” he said half heartedly.

"But I don't feel sexy. I feel like someone cut off half the dress. Won't everyone else be wearing jeans and whatnot at that party?” Black leather ran through her mind and caused her to shiver.

He lifted his shoulders in a half-shrug. “Don't know."

"Is there a dress code?"

Again the careless shrug. “Never been there before."

A nagging question disturbed her. “Where did you get the money for this? I didn't think we could afford it."

He sighed, running a palm over his balding crown. “Michael called me into his office the other day."

"Your boss?"

Brad nodded.

She bit her lip. That didn't sound good. Anessa Rendering was the mainstay of Eastwynd's economy, employing over two hundred men in the rendering plant and several administrative personnel. Brad was the foreman in charge of six mechanics. Most businesses in the area slowed down after the holiday season, which meant layoffs. “Is he going to lay you off after the holidays? But he can't!"

"Don't jump to conclusions. All Michael said was I had done such a good job, he believed I deserved a bonus. He handed me a thousand dollars in cash."

She placed her hands on her hips. Relief flooded through her. “That's all he said? That's terrific! A thousand dollars? In cash?” Right now that was a small fortune. “How much did this dress cost?"

Brad shifted from foot to foot. “You sure ask a lot of questions. All at once, too. Did you forget I'm the kind of guy who can only do one thing at a time?"

"You're not a multi-tasker.” She grinned. He couldn't do two things at once without getting confused.

He shook his head. “It was Michael's suggestion to buy you a dress for the party."

"What a strange suggestion.” She forgot about the dress's price tag. “I don't understand. The last three or four months, he's all you can talk about. Michael this, Michael that. You praise him for every little thing. What's so special about him?"

"Whoa. I'm not in love with him or anything. He just happens to be a terrific boss. Considerate, thoughtful of his employees."

"Sounds like he's too good to be true."

"I was a little surprised. He must have been shopping for the lady in his life, because he suggested a place on Main called Giselle's."

She couldn't think of her boss, Marty Overton, a senior partner, suggesting she buy Brad a nice suit with a bonus he had given her. Not that Marty had ever given one, according to office rumours. Since when did a boss encourage an employee to spend a bonus? “If he gave you a bonus, isn't it up to you to decide what you want to do with it?"

"I guess so. I'm sure it was merely a suggestion.” He wouldn't meet her eyes but stared at something over her left shoulder.

"Is he married?"

"No.” Abruptly, he turned on his heel and strode from the bedroom, preventing her from scrutinising his expression.

"What's going on?” she asked, running after him again.

"Nothing,” he said, jogging down the stairs.

She stopped. They'd be late for the party if she didn't do something with this dress soon. She headed into the spare room and the sewing machine resting on a table in the corner.

Opening her sewing basket, she rummaged through different length zippers, bias tape, scissors and an unwound measuring tape before she found what she was looking for. The lace, a rich cream colour, would complement the dress as long as it was stitched on at the hemline. Nicole reached behind her, unzipped her dress and slid out of it. She hadn't put the electric heater on in here in order to save on heating costs. A cold rush of air brushed over her body, teasing her nipples erect and hurtling goosebumps over her arms and thighs.