RidingtheWaves (7 page)

He lifted his face from her breast. “This is what happens to
women who take advantage of men they assume are sleeping.”

They assume are sleeping?
Oh God! She gulped. “That’s
what this is about?” She grabbed the nylon bindings and clamped them so tightly
her nails dug into her palms. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it.”

He didn’t continue sucking her nipple and instead slid his
tongue down her stomach to her pussy. When the tip breached the folds, he
lightly brushed it over her clit. Her hips bucked off the bed. To hell with
that feathery caress. She needed a sound, firm licking. But she knew he wasn’t
about to give one. The teasing strokes proved he wanted to teach her a lesson
in the punishment for greed.

If she held her body in check and didn’t react, maybe he’d
intensify the pressure. Taking a huge breath, she steeled herself against his
touch.

Oh God, did he have to stick his fingers inside me!

She clamped her teeth together and stiffened. Her nails dug
farther into her palms while fighting the in and out strokes he performed like
a pro.

Jesus! Not his tongue again!

While fighting the urge to gyrate her hips, she squeezed her
ass cheeks. That in turn forced her vaginal walls to clamp his knuckles in a
viselike grip. He withdrew both fingers.

She wanted to scream. And cry. Tears of frustration filled
her eyes. Her neck arched and she dug her ass into the mattress. “I… I swear.
It’ll never happen again,” she panted. “I promise.”

Without a word he covered her body with his, took his cock
in his hand and guided it into her pussy. One long, smooth stroke completely
filled her. “Mmm,” she purred, rolling her hips, coaxing him to move. She
needed the thrusts smashing in and out of her pussy but he remained still.
“You’re killing me,” she whimpered.

He laid his hands on her cheeks. “Shhh.” His lips brushed
against hers. “Squeeze me.”

She constricted her vaginal walls.

“Just like that, baby. Now hold it.” He withdrew his cock
until only the head remained, then shoved it back inside.

It rubbed against every nerve imaginable. “Brent,” she
squealed. “I want to touch you.”

As he kissed her, he reached one hand above her head and
untied the restraints. Immediately she wrapped her arms around him and held on
tight while he fucked her with such force the bed squeaked as if threatening to
break. His biceps and back bulged with rock-hard muscle and he’d clenched his
jaws. He lowered his face and kissed her, his tongue darting in rhythm to his
hips. Short masculine grunts escaped from his throat. Suddenly everything
turned into a blur as her back arched and body convulsed.

Yes! Finally!
“Brent!”

“Embrace it, Annalee,” he gnashed through clenched teeth.

She grabbed his ass and rammed him deeper while bucking her
hips to greet each pounding thrust. If not for the damn confinement of her
legs, she would’ve wrapped them around his waist to deepen the passage to her
belly.

She gave it her all, biting his shoulder, digging nails into
his back, clamping her pussy walls. Then a deep moan overshadowed the creaking
of the bed. He shoved his cock in as far as he could and stilled. The thick
shaft pulsated as he ejaculated deep inside her.

He propped himself on his elbows and patted the outside of
her mouth with his lips. “Did I hurt you, baby?”

She brushed damp hair off his forehead and shook her head.
“Not at all.”

“I don’t ever want to hurt you. Christ, if I get to that
point—”

“Don’t worry, I won’t break.”

He stared long and hard into her eyes. “You don’t
understand.”

She placed her hands on his face, tracing his cheekbones
with her thumbs. “Yes, I believe I do.” It wasn’t impossible to figure out he
had strong sexual desires.

For a few minutes longer she examined his rugged features.
The clean-cut Brent Delaney who’d pounded numbers for a living was now a brawny,
rough-looking man who rescued ships at sea. The shadow of a beard, his long
hair and taut jawline sent chills down her spine. And the way he made her feel?
Her insides stirred again.

While he sat up and freed her ankles from the restraints,
she tucked a pillow beneath her head and closed her eyes. A moment later, after
pulling her legs together, his body heat cocooned her in a wave of contentment.
She opened her eyes to find his gaze hovering above her face. “Brent, how long
will you be in town?”

Lightly he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “My
flight to Miami leaves Thursday night.”

“Are you staying here all week?”

“I’ve already booked the room.”

She placed an arm above her head on the bed. The other she
laid across her tummy. “Why don’t you stay with me?”

“Thanks, baby, but I’m not one to impose.”

“You won’t be imposing. I’d love to have you. Brody can come
too.”

“Isn’t that a bit much to take on?”

For her food bill, absolutely. “Not at all. Come on. Let me
spoil you guys over the next five days. Friends take care of friends, right?”

“I guess they do.”

“Well, this friend,” she winked, “comes with benefits.”

“Benefits, huh?”

“And a little pampering.”

“I appreciate it, but—”

“Even if you refuse, I’m still asking Brody.” She smiled
when Brent’s features hardened. Then suddenly a huge
good guy
leaned
over the top half of her body.

“The benefits won’t be shared beyond me, especially with my
brother, so I’ll do the asking.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “No spoiling.
And no pampering.”

“Is that a yes?” She waited for a response while he removed
strands of hair from her face and tucked them behind her ear.

“I guess it is.”

“I’ll make it worth your while, I promise.”

“I don’t doubt you will.” He planted a lingering kiss on her
lips, lighting up her insides.

“I should warn you about my cooking though. Sometimes the
edibility is questionable,” she said, reaching up to caress his cheeks. His
soft whiskers prickled her fingers. “Do you guys spend much time at home?”

“Unless we’re escorting cargo through the China Sea, where
piracy is a huge problem, we’re home quite a bit actually.”

“What’s quite a bit?”

“A week or two a month.”

That’s it? That certainly wasn’t much time, especially for
any man who wanted to raise a family. Unbelievable. “I disagree. I don’t think
it’s enough.”

He smiled. “When you’ve spent an entire thirty days or
longer on the water, believe me, that week or two is a lot. Sometimes it’s too
much.”

“I take it you prefer marine life?”

“I live and breathe the sea.”

“How can you live such an unstructured life?”

“It’s not unstructured to us, baby. Brody and I wake up the
same time every morning and bust ass from dusk to dawn.”

He had a point. She smiled. “We’ve got a lot of catching up
to do.”

“Yes, we do,” he said, stretching over her to turn off the
light. “Now would be a good time, but we need sleep if we’re going to get an
early start on the morning.” He kissed the top of her head, tucked an arm
around her waist and pulled her closer.

“Brent?”

“Yes?”

“Whiltby’s doesn’t have any ships scheduled to leave port
until Monday. So why are you flying to Florida?”

He feared that subject would eventually surface, but having
just finished making love to her, he preferred to relax in the aftereffect, not
discuss any more work issues. “Unusual business.”

“I know it’s business related.”

He nuzzled his face against her fruity-scented hair and
inhaled deeply. Feminine. Refreshing. Calming. Just what he needed to finalize
the evening.

“Come on, Brent. I want to talk a little more to get
reacquainted.”

How could he tell her a reckless pirate happened to be on
the run, compliments of a fuckup by prison security? And he wasn’t a typical,
conniving pirate who only stole valuables. He kidnapped hostages for ransom,
played blood sport with their lives, raped women and sold them to the black
market for a hefty price.

Brent personally hand-delivered Rashand LaPorea, aka The
Sadist, to the authorities after he’d boarded the hijacked cargo ship and
rescued the captain and remaining crew. He’d found Rashand hiding in a cabin
but took a bullet in his shoulder before containing the son of a bitch. Brent
would never forget the crazed look in the bastard’s dark, beady eyes or his
feral laughter while being escorted off the freight liner. The murder of two
crewmen and the kidnapping and torment of Captain Kobby should’ve guaranteed
Rashand a life behind bars. But presently, according to their federal snitch,
the escaped felon wanted vengeance and supposedly labeled Brent a prime target.

“I’m waiting,” Annalee said softly.

“We’ll talk about it later.” With any luck she’d forget
about it and wouldn’t ask again. It was bad enough he dreaded the mission.

Rashand and his lackeys were heavily armed with assault
rifles, missile rockets and whatever else they could get their greedy hands on.
The man wasn’t easy to take down then and Brent imagined it would only get
worse.

On a positive note, being assigned to recapture the thug
bought him extra time inland to spend with Annalee. She’d just made it a little
more convenient by opening her home.

During the past few years he’d ridden the waves with her on
his mind. And after the previous rescue mission barely ended in his favor, he
vowed to see her once more. While being airlifted to the hospital, bleeding
profusely, her face was the last thing he’d remembered.

He resolved himself to the fact he’d perish at sea. Whether
in one year or twenty. With the overtaking of ships and hostage situations
occurring on the waters more often, it was inevitable unless he dumped the
career. But he refused to give it up. The excitement of attacking and taking
control of a pirate ship bled through his veins. Pirates fascinated him when he
was just a kid, and he’d dreamt of being like Blackbeard when he grew up. That
fantasy faded by twelve years old, but the thrill lingered in his blood.

When Whiltby originally asked if he’d be interested in
taking on the sea, Brent thought the man had lost his fucking mind. But during
his first exploratory journey across the waters, he couldn’t imagine life
anywhere else. It’s something he’d dreamt about his entire life.

“Brent?” Annalee asked, her whispery voice drifting in the
silence as she rolled onto her side, snuggling her back to his chest.

“Yes?”

“Are your eyes closed?” She wiggled her rear against his
crotch.

“Not anymore.” The contact instantly hardened his cock and
it shot upward along her lower spine. “Easy.”

“Close them. I want to take advantage of a sleeping man,”
she reached between their bodies and fisted his penis, “so I can be punished
again.”

Chapter Five

Wow, Annalee needed a bigger house. Having the
brothers
amble
around the place dwarfed her happy bungalow. Especially the kitchen. There was
barely enough room for them plus her, unless they all sat at the table.

They’d obviously intrigued her fluffy feline. Morton made
sure he’d apprised them of his presence by circling their ankles before darting
off into the laundry room.

She was glad they’d accepted her invitation. It gave her and
Brent the chance to reminisce, along with the opportunity to explore and delve
deeper into each other’s psyche. Their relationship in the past hadn’t crossed
the line of
strictly business
, and despite wanting to know every detail
about him down to his time of birth, she’d never asked. He seemed too
unapproachable in the personal life department to disclose any information.
Besides, they weren’t
that
close. They worked side by side once a month
for eleven months to analyze Whiltby & Sons’ financial statements.

A sixty-year-old, anal-retentive man with grayish-black hair
had taken his place, who uncomfortably gawked at her over the top of his
glasses when he should’ve been talking numbers. He’d been disciplined once for
sexually harassing the human resource manager, so Annalee avoided any chance of
physical contact with him by sitting on the opposite side of his desk. Hort
Horrance, aka Freaky Accountant, lived up to his coworker-appointed name. And
boy, at times, he really creeped her out.

She shook off the visual of his beady eyes, opened the oven
door and pulled out the broiler pan to flip the T-bone steaks and sprinkle them
with garlic powder.

“You need help with those, Annalee?” Brent asked, his husky
voice sending a soft shudder along her spine.

“No thanks.” Despite not needing assistance, she sensed him
drawing near her back end, which just happened to be pointing in his direction.
She hadn’t intentionally offered him that view. Well, maybe she had. Okay, it
was her full intention to flaunt one of her best assets in his face. But that’s
what he got for sitting at the table, staring at her like she was the main
course when he should’ve been tossing the salad.

He made her feel so damn sexy and airy, she couldn’t refrain
from tantalizing him somewhat. What a turn-on, knowing he was helpless to do
anything because Brody stood at the counter, crying over the potent onions he
was trying to dice on a cutting board. The silly guy had originally started
chopping them with a pocketknife. If she hadn’t replaced it with a paring
knife, he would’ve been dicing until morning.

Just as she slid the rack back inside the hot compartment, a
large hand reclined on her lower back. She jumped. The outer side of her index
finger hit the top of the oven and it burned her skin. “Yowch!” she shrieked,
dropping the potholder. She stuck her finger in her mouth then pulled it out
and shook it.

“Christ, I’m sorry.” Brent guided her to the sink, turned on
the faucet and held her hand under cold water. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It was my fault, really.”

“Brent, don’t be burning up our hostess,” Brody said. “I’ve
already claimed the refund on my hotel room.” He smiled and sniffled. “Are you
okay, sweetheart?”

“I’m fine, Brody, no reason to cry.”

“Oh but you are every reason to shed a tear over,” he cooed,
wiping tears off his cheek with the back of his hand.

She giggled. She really adored him. It’d taken a little
coaxing and a lot of convincing to talk him into
bunking
at her house
for the week. Whereas Brent felt he’d be imposing on her, Brody felt he’d be
imposing on both of them. Finally, with her persistence and Brent’s influence,
Brody buckled under the pressure and said yes.

His fun-loving disposition added balance to his serious
side. Unlike his brother, he removed himself from uncomfortable situations, as
he proved last night at the party when he avoided Sean. Brent, on the other
hand, seized control.

Yes, he certainly did.
Good Lord, he’d actually tied
her to the bed. And with
her
pantyhose that
he’d
taken the
liberty to shred.

Her belly spun and heated in a slow burn. Hell, the little
blister on her finger didn’t even compare to the hot sensation. “My finger is
fine,” she said, turning off the water. But she was everything but
fine
.
The visions of last night along with his huge body wrapped around her from
behind, trapping her at the sink, ignited an inferno in her blood, nearly
causing an internal meltdown. “All it needs is a Band-Aid. Will you please nuke
the potatoes while I find one?”

She stepped under Brent’s arm into the cool temperature of
the house and headed toward the main bathroom. On the way past her bedroom, she
stopped and glanced at her bed.
Tonight Brent will be sleeping in there with
me.
God, she couldn’t wait. What time was it now? Six-ish? Was six-fifteen
too early to turn in for the night? Maybe she’d tie him up this time and
torture his masculine body—perhaps run her tongue along the prominent, muscular
contours of his chest—then follow the line of hair from his abdomen to his—

“Hey, sweetheart, what do you want me to do with these
onions?” Brody hollered.

She spun around. “Sauté them in butter with the mushrooms,”
she hollered back. Morton decided at that moment to dash past her feet, and he
disappeared inside her room.
Crazy cat.

Now what the heck was she doing? The anticipation of what
would take place in her bedroom completely shut down her mind, and she’d
forgotten which direction she’d headed, and for what. Geez, she needed
professional help sometimes.

Traipsing back into the kitchen, she flipped the steaks one
last time and shut off the broiler. Brody stood at the stove mixing melted butter,
the onions and mushrooms, and they smelled delicious. Brent had taken a seat at
the table. Again she felt his gaze whisking across her backside. Tingles
followed it along her spine.

“Thought you were getting a Band-Aid for your finger?” he
asked, his voice adding zings to her unfolding arousal.

Aha! A Band-Aid.
That’s what she’d gone after. “I
don’t have any left.” She’d have to remember to hide the box so he wouldn’t
find it.

She moved behind his chair and lightly massaged his
shoulders. They were so firm and powerful, and they stiffened upon contact. The
sinful scent of his musky, spicy cologne spiraled through her nostrils and
settled in her
fuck me
zone, forcing all thoughts back into her bedroom.

Maybe coexisting with him this week was a bad idea. It’d be
so easy to eat, sleep and drink Brent Delaney until Thursday. Which meant no
time for work. How much trouble would she get in if she called off for the next
four days and violated a policy that only allowed three per year?

Thank God for Brody. His presence should keep her grounded
and prevent her from making any rash decisions that could cost her job.

As she slid her hands over Brent’s shoulders to the base of
his neck, he stiffened even more. In a courageous, seductive, no-time-to-think
moment, she lowered her lips to his ear. “I want you to fuck me all night
long,” she whispered, then brazenly bit his lobe before straightening into a
full stance.

“Brody, what are your plans tonight?” he asked, his tone
labored and hoarse.

“I don’t know. I thought about watching a movie or two on
the tube.” He turned around, holding a coated spoon. Annalee couldn’t see the
look on Brent’s face, but she sure saw the shock on Brody’s. “Or maybe,” he
added quickly, “I’ll go somewhere and have a few brews.”

Annalee pulled out a chair and sat down. She couldn’t wait
to get Brent alone but not at Brody’s expense. She’d invited him to stay at her
house, which meant making him feel comfortable and at home. No way did she want
to push him out so she could partake in a sexual tryst with Brent. She’d have
her time alone with him, even if it cost her sleepless nights. “I think
watching movies is a great idea. I’ve got a ton of DVDs, and they’re not all
girlie.” Thanks to Jared having left a stack behind. “And if you want beers, I
can run to the drive-through.”

“She’s right,” Brent said. “You don’t need to be hanging at
some bar and chance driving back in this shitty weather.”

Annalee smiled at Brent’s quick fix to whatever expression
he’d given Brody that motivated a need to leave. “I love snuggling on the couch
to watch movies when it’s cold and snowy outside,” she said. “If you don’t want
beer, I can make hot chocolate.”

“With marshmallows?” Brody joked, his eyes rounded in
delight.

“With as many as you want.”

“Okay, movies and hot chocolate it is.” He smiled as he
turned back to the stove and stirred the onions. “I think this stuff is done.”

After Annalee set the table, Brent removed the steaks from
the broiler, potatoes from the microwave then he and Brody filled their plates and
sat down to eat.

She drowned her baked potato in butter, ate the creamy
filling then gobbled her entire salad before starting on the steak. It cut into
pieces easily enough, but when she’d taken a bite it hurt her teeth to chew.
Figures.
Every stinking time she broiled steak it turned out like jerky. At least she’d
forewarned the guys about her culinary skills.

She pushed the plate aside and sat back in the seat. “So
what would you like to eat?”

“This is fine, Annalee,” Brent said.

“Yeah, it’s good,” Brody agreed.

“Don’t try to flatter me, guys. It’s bad.” She jumped up and
browsed the
almost
bare fridge, strumming her fingers on the handle. Why
hadn’t she shopped for the week instead of picking up a few things for
tonight’s dinner?
Dummy
. Now she’d have to stop at the store tomorrow.
“Hmmm, how about pizza or Chinese? They both deliver.”

“Seriously, baby, it’s okay. You got a tough hunk of meat.
Mine isn’t too chewy.”

Too chewy.

“Mine either,” Brody added.

“Fine, don’t blame me when your jaws hurt.” She grabbed a
gallon of iced tea, shut the door and poured three glasses. They’d need
something to help wash down the leathery meat. She sipped her glass after
returning to her seat.

“Brent, I talked to Mom and Dad today,” Brody said, stabbing
a hunk of beef with his fork. “They want to see you before you take off
Thursday.”

“Why?”

Brody looked at him over his nose. “You know why.”

Annalee glanced between the two of them.
Why?

“Then I’ll fly home on Wednesday for a few hours.”

“I’m glad you said that.” Brody raised a serious brow. “I
told them you would. Otherwise they planned on booking a flight into
Cleveland.”

Annalee could’ve made room for two more, well, other than in
the kitchen. But she did have two more table chairs. She’d love to meet them
and see which parent the brothers resembled most. With their identical
movements, expressions and smiles, she enjoyed watching their interactions.
“They could’ve stayed here too,” she said.

“No,” the brothers shouted in unison.

Yikes. She raised her hands, backing off. “Okay, I get it. I
was just trying to be nice.”

Brody smirked and shook his head. “We appreciate it. They’re
great people, but whenever we’re in the same room together, things tend to get
a little, uh, what’s the word I’m looking—”

“Manipulative,” Brent grumbled.

“Yeah, that’s it. Dad’s a control freak at times, and you’re
so much like him. I bet that’s why you’re his favorite.”

“Maybe his favorite to butt heads with,” Brent grouched.

Annalee glanced at him and flaunted a faux-surprised grin.
“Really? I would never have guessed.”

“I’m sure you’ll meet them someday, sweetheart. And you’ll
love them as everyone else does. Let’s just say, they were the neighborhood mom
and dad.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” She smiled at Brody then
focused on Brent, as if he’d silently beckoned her attention away from his
brother.

“I’ll probably fly home with you, brother,” Brody added.
“But I doubt I’ll come back.”

Annalee squirmed in the chair and crossed her legs. Sex and
sensuality oozed from every inch of Brent. The way he held his fork. The
contraction of his forearm muscles as he sawed the steak knife through the
meat. The tic of his jaw when he chewed. The large pectorals protruding through
the face of his partially unbuttoned black shirt.
The bulge in his pants
hidden beneath the table.

The visual threw her temperature into the red zone. The room
suddenly grew hot and her belly weakened, awaking her arousal once again.

He’d just raised the fork to take another bite when he
captured her gaze. His lids narrowed as he laid the fork on his plate.

God, she couldn’t wait to get him alone. How many more hours
until bedtime? If she acted sleepy, she could call it an early night and crawl
into bed, hoping he’d follow. Or she could watch movies like they’d planned and
wait it out. Seriously, she’d felt like this years ago and ended up going home
alone to play with her dildo, so a few more hours wouldn’t hurt. But now that
she’d gotten bitten by the Brent bug…

If she didn’t get up soon, she’d stick to the seat from the
amount of pussy juice dripping into her pants. It was just too surreal how a
simple, heavy-lidded gaze affected her like that. “I’ll clean up the dishes,
take a quick shower then we’ll start a movie. How’s that?” She jumped up and
filled the sink with soapy water.

Brent walked his plate to the counter. “Why don’t I clean up
the kitchen while you take a shower? That won’t kill as much time.”

Was he thinking what she’d been thinking the past hour? “I
like that idea better.” Her tummy bottomed out when he kissed her on the lips.

“And I’ll make the hot chocolate,” Brody threw in.