Voyeur (31 page)

She let out her breath, a bit stunned. "God, you're right." It seemed unthinkable now, like the experiences of the past week had already woven themselves so deeply into her existence that it felt as if they'd been part of the fabric of her life for much longer. And she realized again that it had begun to seem normal, al the wild things they'd done—but only with Braden. She couldn't imagine it feeling normal, or right, with anyone else.

As the unloading ramp came into sight and she lifted the tips of her skis, ready to
whoosh
down, it struck her that she must have had al these darker desires floating around somewhere inside her al along—and had simply never known it until Braden had helped her find them.

Standing to ski away from the lift, she couldn't help regretting that the ride was over.

By the time Laura sat down to write late that afternoon, she found herself feeling a bit melancholy, yet also insightful—and for the first time, she

al owed herself the freedom to be utterly pleased, maybe even
thrilled,
that Braden had opened up her deeper, darker, more adventurous sexual self.

If she'd suffered any lingering hopes that he would suddenly announce his unending love for her, however, their conversation earlier had squelched

it. She had a gnawing suspicion that s
he
had fal en in love with
him,
but she somehow knew now that she could handle parting ways with him like the adult she kept reminding herself she was. What they'd shared had been amazing, mind-boggling, and life-altering—but she understood ful y

after today that he wasn't the type of man who got attached to women. And she harbored no delusions that a week of hot, naughty sex was going to

change that.

And it was okay. Life would go on. She would be fine.

And so would Aunt Mimsey. And so would Riley. Riley's current story was beginning to come to a close, and Laura felt as if Riley had learned as

much about
herself
in this book as Laura had gleaned about her own personality while writing it.

As Laura typed, a colossal secret made its way onto the computer screen—something even
she
hadn’t known until she'd realized Edna was the

criminal. Mimsey explained to Riley that many years earlier, when she was young, she and Edna had been friends—but then, in high school,

Mimsey had aggressively stolen Edna’s boyfriend! Not only that, he'd turned out to be Mimsey s lifelong love and now-departed husband, Walter—

Riley s beloved uncle!

Edna, it seemed, had held a grudge their whole lives, and al the crimes she'd committed were poorly-thought-out attempts to frame Mimsey. As for

Hawthorne, it turned out Edna and he had indulged in a wild affair that had ended badly, so knocking off the gardener had seemed a convenient

way for Edna to turn much greater suspicion toward Mimsey when her other feeble tries had failed.

Despite the shock of finding out that Edna was apparently crazy, Riley's emotions instead focused on what she'd learned about her aunt.

Riley sat across from Aunt Mimsey at the table on the back porch, utterly stunned. Sweet, docile Aunt Mimsey had been a boyfriend-stealer

in high school? It seemed impossible.

Yet, on the other hand, she supposed it had been meant to be. She'd never known two people more dear to each other than Mimsey and

Walter had been before his death. So maybe, she thought, even if a relationship seemed a bit il icit in the beginning, it could be worthwhile

and have a meaningful ending. Maybe life was not as cut and dried, as black and white, as Riley had always thought.

"Are you okay?" Aunt Mimsey asked, setting down her teacup to take Riley's hand.

Riley nodded, stil a bit numb. "Just hard to picture you as a girl who would go after a friend's guy. Not that I love you any less for it," she was quick to say. "I'm just... trying to wrap my mind around it."

"Think of it like this," her aunt said. "The way you feel about your Sloane, no matter how you deny it—that's how I felt about my Walter, even then. I didn't want to be that kind of girl, but it was bigger than the both of us."

Riley nodded somberly, even if she stil wasn't comfortable admitting her affection for Sloane. "I understand. I guess I'm just... starting to

realize there are sides of you I don't know."

Aunt Mimsey cast a knowing, assured smile. "Wel , of course there are, dear.
Everyone
has secrets.
Everyone
has desires they can't push down. We may not talk about them, but they exist quietly, in the background, and life goes on."

That evening, Laura and Braden prepared an easy meal of burgers and fries, tired after skiing. The mood was relaxed as they sat down at the

table, but Laura couldn’t help remembering she was leaving in the morning. Somehow her departure had snuck up fast.

"What time is your flight?"

She swirled a fry in ketchup. "Eleven fifteen."

"Eagle’s a smal airport. If you get there an hour early, you'l be fine. I'l drive you down."

She drew in her breath at the offer, at the chance to spend one more little chunk of time with him. But then she imagined the anguish of kisses in the airport, the stretching-out of it, the painful finality of it al . She'd do better if she left on her own—and besides, it was more practical. "No," she said, explaining, "I have to return the rental or you'l be stuck with two."

"I don't mind. I could return your car for you and get Tommy to pick me up."

But she held firm. "It's not necessary," she said, peering down at her plate, then taking a big bite of her hamburger to distract her from the slight awkwardness of the refusal.

He sounded reluctant but said, "Okay, if you re sure."

She tried to speak lightly. "When wil
you
head out?"

He sighed, leaned back in his chair. "I think I'l hang out a few days more, unwind, watch the snow, veg a little." Then he grinned, teasing her. "You've worn me out."

She flashed a sexy smile, thinking she hoped to wear him out again, at least one more time, before the sun rose.

"So how's the book? Did I ruin your writer's retreat too badly?" He looked as if he might have mixed emotions on it—she suspected he hoped it was going wel but would also take some arrogant pride in learning she'd not managed to accomplish much amid al their naughty play.

"I'l have you know it's almost finished, and I'm very pleased with it. I have to write the last chapter after I get home, but it won't take long now, and I'm actual y going to make my deadline." A giddy sort of giggle escaped her. "I've never written a book so fast. And who'd have thought I could do it in the middle of a wild, crazy sextravaganza."

Braden let out a rich laugh and said, "I must be good for your creativity."

And she thought,
You have no idea, baby.

After dinner, she announced she was going to pack. She grabbed the CD on which she'd saved her book file, then scurried up the stairs before she

started looking too depressed.

She real y
was
going to be okay without him, but saying good-bye would be torturous. Each piece of clothing she wadded into her suitcase, each little item, even hair clips and dirty socks, drove it home more. Worst were the items Braden had given her—the sheer black kimono, the

champagne-colored ensemble, the velvet corset. In a way, it seemed weird to take them—she couldn't imagine ever wearing them for another guy.

Yet it would feel just as odd to leave them behind—they were gifts from the man she'd come to care for, and even if they sat in her lingerie drawer

forever, when she saw them they would bring her back here in her mind, back to the most glorious days of her life.

She didn’t pack the red bra-and-panties set from Monica, though— the set she'd worn for him on the webcam back when he was just words on a

screen. She wanted to look pretty and sexy for him on this, their last night together. After a quick shower, she donned the red lace, then put her

standard cotton cami and joggers on over them, thinking shed surprise him a little later.

Yet when she headed back downstairs,
she
was the one who got a hot surprise.

Braden lay on a thin quilt stretched out next to the star-fil ed window, beautiful y naked, his majestic cock erect and ready for her. Two ful

wineglasses rested nearby, and an array of candles dotted the floor around him, like more twinkling stars in the low-lit room.

But her eyes stayed on her gorgeous man, his darkened eyes, and his commanding expression. He didn’t smile. "Take your clothes off, snowflake."

Heat
rose to Laura s cheeks, as wel as other key parts of her body. Stopping in place across the room from him, she slowly pul ed the drawstring on her pants, then wiggled her hips a little to help them fal . They dropped gently over her hips to her ankles, al owing her to step free of them. She could have sworn she saw Braden’s eyes twinkle with lust at the sight of her tiny red thong panties. "Nice, baby," he murmured deeply, and the very sound of his voice made her pussy swel within the tight lace.

Next she lifted her hand to lower one shoulder strap of her cami, then the other. Where the white cotton remained stretched across her chest, she

reached up both hands to slowly peel it down. It required a push and more hip-wiggling to help it the rest of the way before she final y stood before

him in her red lace bra and undies. As always with Braden, she enjoyed being the object of his possessive gaze.

"Come to me, honey," he said, and she padded across the carpet to where he stretched out, wel -muscled and bare. She knelt next to him on the blanket, and he handed her a glass of white wine, taking up the other himself.

"To keeping the lights on," he said, lifting his glass in a toast, "so I can see every beautiful inch of you.”

She released a smal , thoughtful smile and raised her
own
glass. "To my sexy voyeur, who made
me
see so many new things."

They sipped their wine, but quickly set the glasses aside. Laura found it difficult to sit that close to his ful -on erection without touching it. So as soon as her hands were free, she reached out to stroke
him, wrapping her fist around his length, loving the silk-over-steel feel
of him, loving the way she made him moan. She bit her lip, studying his perfect cock, memorizing every long, lovely inch, watching the pre-come wel ed at the tip—and only

eventual y remembering to be surprised that scrutinizing him so boldly no longer made her feel sheepish.

Braden pul ed in his breath as she squeezed and caressed him, and he couldn’t resist sliding his palm from her hip up to the curve of her breast.

They looked beautiful tonight, captured in snug red lace, her cleavage deep and round. Damn, he was going to miss this heat, this connection he

shared with her. Heel had more than his fair share of hot women and exciting affairs, but he'd never felt such trust from a woman—and he couldn’t

help thinking Laura was the first girl he'd ever truly and whol y seduced in the purest sense of the word.

Her smal hand pumped his dick with slow, aching precision, the sensation sweet enough that a selfish man would have been content to lay back

and let her work him over that way al night long. But this was his last night with Laura, a fact he was al too painful y aware of, so he felt the urge to take control, to make sure he got al of her he could before they were done here.

Sitting up, he slipped his thumbs into the red straps of her bra and eased them off her shoulders. His groin tightened further at the sight of the lace fal ing just past her lush pink nipples, hard and pointed. The bra stil cupped the bottoms of her breasts, underlining them with lace. He simply

beheld them for a moment, then stroked his thumbs across the pert peaks. She drew in her breath—a soft, scintil ating sound— and he found

himself tweaking the pink tips, twirling the taut buds between his fingertips until her breath came harder, harder.

He leaned in to kiss her and the sensation ran al through him, heightening his reaction to her continued strokes between his legs.

"I love when you touch me," she said on a ragged whisper.

The words ignited a fresh blaze deep inside him. "I love to hear you say that. When we first met, you never would’ve said something like that."

Her eyes appeared glazed, and her chest heaved with labored breathing. "You changed me."

He met her gaze—and had to have more of her.

Capturing her wrists in his hands, he pushed her to her back on the quilt, shifting to hover over her, let his body graze the slopes of hers. His

erection skimmed her soft bel y. "I want you so damn much," he ground out through clenched teeth before he pressed his mouth hungrily back to hers. Her fingers wound through his hair and her thighs parted beneath him so that he could nestle his hard length where she was the softest.

Breaking the kiss, he dropped his mouth to her breasts, suckling first one then the other, his cock going harder every time she moaned. He held the

outer curves of her breasts with both hands as he switched back and forth between them, sucking soft and sweet, using his tongue to lick, then

pul ing harder, wanting to take them deep, wanting to feel her nipples elongate even farther between his lips. She whimpered beneath him now,

lifting her crotch against him, and he loved making her so wild, taking away her control. That’s what he'd yearned for from the beginning—to make

Laura drop that shy little shield of protection, to take away al her inhibitions. And now he had it, sweet Laura writhing and trembling beneath him,

responding to his every touch.

"I need to taste your pussy," he rasped over her, then kissed his way down her smooth stomach, listening to her breath catch with each inch he descended.

"Yes," she breathed before he was even there. "Yes, baby, please."

A bolt of masculine satisfaction shot through him, spreading outward when he lowered a kiss to the front of her pretty panties. Her breath stil came