Hidden Pleasures Page 12

  She pulled her mouth back and drew in a deep breath before burying her face in the warmth of his hairy chest. He smelled good. He smelled of man. And his intimate touch was driving her sensuously insane. When his free hand moved to caress the slope of her back she lifted her head from his chest and met his intense gaze.

  “Make love to me, Galen.”

  She whispered the words not caring that her request probably lacked manners. The protocol was changing, and women were bold enough to ask something like that. Still, such an audacious request sounded strange coming from a female. However, at the moment the only thing she cared about was the deep ache in her stomach that had been there for a while and had become unbearable the moment he’d removed his pants to reveal the thatch of dark curly hair at his groin. There was just something about seeing him exposed and the thickness of his erection that had heat radiating to her lower limbs. She wanted him in a way she’d never truly wanted a man. With Galen she could be herself. She could be the woman she’d never been.

  She wanted him. He wanted her. And for now that was all that mattered.

  “Be careful what you ask for, sweetheart,” he whispered as he gathered her close to the warmth and solid hardness of his body. She felt his arousal pressed against her belly and was compelled to reach down and grip his manhood in her hand.

  She remembered touching Gilford once and the harsh words he’d said when she did. He’d reminded her that she was a lady who was above doing such things. Instead of being turned off by her actions, it was evident Galen had no such problem with her touching him, if the sound of his heavy breathing and deep guttural groans were any indication. Empowered by his response, she began stroking him, liking the feel of the thick veins that outlined the shaft of his penis, and the warmth that emitted from the tip of it.

  “Damn, Brittany,” he growled. “You’re about to make me lose my manners.”

  She smiled thinking he just had. A true gentleman would never swear in front of a lady. Instead of pointing that out to him, she decided to inflict her own brand of punishment by sinking her teeth into his shoulder blade and then licking the bruise with her tongue. “Payback, Brittany.”

  He shifted their positions and she found herself flat on her back with him looming over her, sliding in place between her open legs and red stilettos. And she knew whatever patience he’d been holding in check had gotten tossed to the wind. She glanced up at the see-through ceiling. It had gotten dark and there were stars in the sky adding to the romantic effect she’d created.

  That effect stirred everything within her and when she felt his manhood at the entrance of her mound, nudging her womanly folds apart trying to seek admittance, streaks of anticipation flooded her.

  Then she felt him, the heat of him sliding inside her wet channel, stretching her, taking her, preparing to mate with her. Her muscles clenched him, gripped him, needing something only he could give. She knew she had to relax, stop being greedy, but this was all new to her and she wanted it all.

  He remained still when he was inside her to the hilt and then he glanced down at her and whispered, “Wrap those legs and high heels around my waist. I want to feel you. I want to feel them. I’m about to do the very thing to you that those shoes stand for.”

  And he did.

  He began moving in and out of her, and the throbbing between her legs intensified with each stroke. She did just as he suggested and wrapped her legs around him, stilettos and all.

  He lifted her hips to receive him deeper and she could actually feel blood rushing through her veins. And then in a surprise move he lowered his head and captured a nipple in his mouth and began sucking while his body rode her hard. She bit her lips against a moan and then gave up and screamed out his name when a mass of sensations ripped through her.

  She pressed closer to him, tightened her legs around him as he continued to pound into her. Heat burst into flames and she tightened her grip on him when he bucked several times with whiplash speed. They held nothing back. They shared passion, pleasure and possession. Tonight he was hers and she was his. He kept thrusting inside her until he had nothing left to give, and then finally he moaned her name and collapsed on top of her.

  When his breathing returned to normal, he shifted his weight off her. She cuddled closer to him as if that was where she belonged.

  He laid a hand across her thigh as he met her gaze, breathing in deeply and then saying, “That was simply amazing. Incredible.” He then reached down to remove her shoes and tossed them across the room.

  She lay there, completely sated, as she tried to catch her breath. She totally agreed with him. She wondered what he would think if he knew tonight was the first time she’d made love and considered it a pleasurable experience.

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. “Let’s sleep a while. Dinner will keep until later. Besides, I doubt either of us has the strength to get out of this bed right now.”

  He was right, she thought, laying her head on his chest and giving in to her body’s exhaustion. She felt drained, yet at the same time flagrantly and passionately pleasured. She moved her head to look at him, and when she did their eyes locked. He had been looking at her. At that moment something passed between them. Just what, she wasn’t sure.

  Sensations rippled through her all over again and she knew at that instant that Galen Steele was every woman’s fantasy.

  He was certainly hers.

  Chapter 14

  Brittany woke up the next morning, shifted her body and stared up into the sky. She could even see birds flying overhead through the bedroom ceiling. Amazing. She closed her eyes thinking nothing was as amazing as making love with Galen last night.

  She had lost count of her orgasms. After they’d taken a nap and awakened to make love again, they had slipped into their clothes and gone downstairs to eat, totally famished.

  Galen told her more than once how much he enjoyed her spaghetti, which she’d served with a salad and garlic bread. He had even asked for seconds. Then he had helped with the cleanup. The next thing she knew, she was swept into his arms and taken back upstairs where he’d made love to her again several more times.

  She’d come close to telling him what last night had meant to her and how her better judgment had warned her against the indulgence. But Galen was a man used to sleeping with women who know the score, and although she wasn’t a virgin, her experience left a lot to be desired. In the end, she kept the secret.

  She shifted in bed and wished she’d stayed put when her muscles ached. The intensity of Galen’s lovemaking last night had made her sore, which would no doubt slow her down a bit today. At least until she took a hot, relaxing bath. Then she would go over to her house. After yesterday she finally allowed herself to label the house as hers, especially after Galen had given her the key.

  She wondered where he’d gone. Although today was Saturday, he was probably downstairs working in his garage. She had yet to see that part of his house and knew he considered it his private domain where he allowed his creativity to flow. She smiled thinking his creativity had done a pretty good job flowing right here in this bedroom last night.

  Easing out of bed, she went into the bathroom. If Galen intended to work all day today, then she could very well revisit her house. If he thought she would be at his beck and call, then he had another think coming.

  Galen’s heart began racing when he heard Brittany moving around upstairs. Although he’d been tempted to wake her early this morning to make love again, he’d figured she needed her rest, especially because he’d kept her up most of the night.

  He probably should feel like an oversexed, greedy ass, but he was too damn satisfied, far too content, to find fault in his behavior last night. Besides, he knew although Brittany might not have expected to go as many rounds with him, she’d enjoyed each and every one of them. Her screams were still ringing in his ears.

  Something about her screams, though, hadn’t been right. Not that he thought she’d been fakin
g them, mind you, but he’d made love to enough women to recognize the tenor of a scream. Listening to Brittany’s, one would get the impression she’d never screamed during a climax before. It could very well be that she assumed screaming displayed reproachful behavior, definitely a lack of manners. But still, lack of manners or not, some things couldn’t be held back. And letting go while gripped within the throes of passion was one of them.

  He moved away from the sink to open the refrigerator and again was taken aback by the sight of the items inside. Milk, eggs, cheese, fruit… The meal Brittany prepared last night had been off the charts. But he hoped she didn’t assume she had to cook, because he’d made it clear he had no problems with their eating out. And then there was dinner at his parents’ home on Thursday night and—

  Holy crap! Brittany would still be here on Thursday night. According to the terms of their agreement that Eli had drawn up, she wouldn’t be leaving his place until next Saturday morning. There was no way he would take her to his parents’ place for dinner. He didn’t want anyone getting the wrong impression, and knowing his mother, she would. It was not the norm for women to hang around his place on a frequent basis. Although several had spent the night, he didn’t waste time helping them to the door bright and early the next morning. And it went without saying that he’d never taken a woman to his parents’ dinners.

  “Good morning.”

  He hadn’t heard Brittany come down the stairs. But then why would he have been listening for her? Talk about irregular behavior…

  He drew in a deep breath, closed the refrigerator door and turned around. The moment he did so, a fine sheen of perspiration touched his brow. Some women looked better than others in the morning and he quickly decided she fit in that category. She had taken a shower, which was probably the reason she looked so fresh in her top and jeans. But a shower hadn’t put the glow on her face. He had posted enough notches on his bedpost to know only a night of earth-shattering sex could do that to a woman. He inwardly flinched at the thought of her being a notch on anyone’s bedpost, including his.

  “Good morning, Brittany.” There was no need to ask if she’d gotten a good night’s sleep because thanks to him she hadn’t.

  Instead he asked, “Where would you like to go for breakfast?” He had showered and shaved earlier and was ready to go. And getting out of the house wasn’t such a bad idea; then he wouldn’t have thoughts running through his head of taking her back upstairs.

  “I can prepare something for us. Won’t take but a minute. At least, if that’s all right with you because it’s your kitchen.”

  Yes, it was his kitchen, and as far as he was concerned, everything in it was his, including her. He then heaved a sigh, wondering how his mind could think such a thing. There was no woman alive that was his. He borrowed them for the time it took to get his pleasure and then he returned them to where they’d come from. It would be easy to tell Brittany she could go upstairs and pack, and that starting today she could stay at her mother’s place, but for some reason he couldn’t fix his mouth to say those words.

  Instead he said, “I don’t have a problem with it. I just don’t want you to assume I expect it of you.”

  He watched in fascination when her lower lip started to quiver. Call him sick but he had missed seeing that, although he knew she was vexed with him for some reason. “Trust me, Galen. I know your expectations where I’m concerned.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes.”

  A sudden smile touched his lips. “In that case…” He moved toward her. As soon as he reached her, he picked her up off her feet and placed her on his kitchen counter and moved between her jeans-clad legs. Already he missed seeing her in those sexy high heels.

  “What do you think you’re doing, Galen?” she asked, staring at him with a frown on her face.

  That elicited a laugh from him. “I bet you won’t ask me that in a couple of minutes.” He then swooped his mouth down to hers.

  Brittany wondered why after a night like last night, they were at odds with each other this morning. And why did it take this, another Galen Steele mind-blowing kiss, to put things in perspective?

  Instead of thinking about the answers to those questions, she decided to concentrate on the kiss instead. Might as well, because it would have snatched her focus anyway. Heat always sizzled between them whenever their lips locked and this morning was no exception.

  His hands reached up to cup both sides of her face, making her feel the intensity of him making love to her mouth. And that was exactly what he was doing. His tongue was ravaging her, leaving no part of her mouth unscathed.

  His mouth continued to move against hers with a hunger she felt all the way to her toes, and she couldn’t resist returning the kiss with equal fervor. All she could think about was how last night this same mouth and this very naughty tongue feasted at her breasts and between her thighs, driving her over the brink of madness and lapping her into orgasm after orgasm. Neither could she forget his powerful thrusts into her, over and over, in and out, making her scream more times than she could count. It was a wonder her throat wasn’t raw this morning.

  He pulled back, breaking off the kiss, and she stared into his face, saw that arrogant smile on his moist lips and she swallowed hard. It was either that or grab his shirt and make him kiss her again.

  “Now, you were asking?”

  She blinked. She’d asked him something? Oh, yeah, she’d asked what he thought he was doing. He’d given her an answer in a tongue-tangling way. Brittany considered saying they should take this to the bedroom but decided not to. Instead she said, “Breakfast. What are we going to do about breakfast? This is Saturday, so I’m sure most breakfast places are crowded and it’s after nine already.”

  He nodded and she noticed his gaze was glued to her lips. “So what do you suggest?”

  “I suggest I prepare something. Afterward I’m sure you have your day planned.”

  “I had thought about putting in more time on Sniper today.”

  “And I plan to go over to my mother’s place for a while.”

  He lifted her off the counter and placed her back on her feet. “It’s no longer your mother’s place. It’s yours. I gave you the key yesterday and she willed the house to you, so you might want to start thinking of yourself as the owner.”

  She rubbed her arms where his hands had touched. “I know,” she said smiling faintly up at him. “But no one has ever given me anything before.” And that had been the truth. Even during the Christmas holidays when she’d received presents from her foster parents, she’d known the gifts had been donated by charity.

  He took a step toward her and reached out and traced the curve of her mouth with his thumb. “But all that’s changed now, hasn’t it?”

  He was standing close, so close she could feel his erection through his jeans pressing against her. She couldn’t stop the stab of sexual sensations that spiked through her veins.

  His question made her realize that yes, it had changed. Her mother may have given her away when she was born, but before Gloria McIntyre had left this earth she had found her and had tried making things right. Not that they had been wrong. A part of her had always figured her mother had been a teenager who’d wanted the best for her. She’d had no way of knowing that what she’d wanted for her daughter and what her daughter eventually got were two different things. But then maybe she did know once she’d gotten the investigator’s report.

  “Do you need my help?”

  She gave Galen a reluctant smile. What she needed was for him to leave the kitchen so she could concentrate.

  “No, I can handle things. Why don’t you go to the garage and start working,” she suggested. “I’ll call you when I’m done.”

  “And you’re sure you don’t need my help?”

  “I’m positive.”

  “All right. And you don’t have to come to the garage looking for me. I’ll be back up in fifteen minutes or so. I’ll lay out my supplies and come ba
ck.”

  He turned to leave, then, catching Brittany off guard, he pulled her against him and covered her lips in a kiss that sent her pulse racing. When he released her, he whispered against her moist lips, “I like you.” And then he moved toward the door that led to his garage.

  “Tell me about your brothers, Galen.”

  Galen glanced across the table. When he had returned from the garage, it had been just in time to see Brittany place the pancakes she’d prepared on a platter. Then there were the eggs, bacon and orange juice. Everything he would normally get at Flynn’s Breakfast Café where he ate most mornings. But he would be the first to say the meal Brittany had prepared could hold its own against Flynn’s any day.

  He lifted a brow. “My brothers?”

  “Yes.”

  She had asked about his brothers before, a couple of times, and he’d always avoided her question. His family was his family, and most people living in Phoenix knew the Steele brothers. Most women he’d dated didn’t ask about his brothers, because Tyson, Eli, Jonas, Mercury and Gannon had managed to carve out reputations around the city on their own. He had to remember Brittany wasn’t from Phoenix, though, which could be a good thing. She wouldn’t know about the Steele brothers’ reputation. She had no idea some women considered them the “Bad News Steeles.” Nor would she know they liked women in their beds, but had no plans to keep them in their lives.

  “I mentioned I’m the oldest,” he started off by saying.

  “After me there’s Tyson. There’s only an eleven-month difference in our ages. At thirty-three he’s the doctor in the family, a heart surgeon and a damn good one.”

  He took a sip of his coffee, thinking it tasted just as good as any he purchased from Starbucks. “After Tyson there’s Eli. As you already know, he’s the attorney in the family. He’s thirty-two. Then there’s Jonas, who’s thirty-one. Jonas owns a marketing firm and has some top names as clients. After Jonas there’s Mercury at thirty. He’s an ex-NFL player turned sports agent. And last but not least is Gannon, the youngest at twenty-nine, but he’s definitely not the smallest. He took over the day-to-day operations of my father’s trucking company and even gets behind a rig himself every once in a while.”