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Authors: Winter Renshaw

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BOOK: ARROGANT PLAYBOY
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THIRTY-TWO
 
 

BELLAMY

 

Dane’s out cold.

The sun’s not out yet, and my
eyes are hardly adjusted enough to read the glaring red numbers on the alarm
clock, but every muscle in my body knows it’s too early to be up.

Still, I can’t stop staring.

I’ve seen him naked plenty of
times. That’s nothing new. But I’ve never seen him asleep. I roll to my side
and feast on the man with the hollowed cheekbones, the dark lashes, and the
perfectly bowed lips.

His soundless breathing and
peaceful expression make him look like a painting. Without his three-piece suit
and that permanent arrogant glimmer in his eyes, he looks like any other man.
Right now he’s Superman without the cape.

I always preferred Clark Kent
anyway.

My eyes trace the length of his
bare arms before settling on the lines and ridges of his upper body. His skin
is soft, smooth, lightly tanned and perfectly toned. I’d press my cheek against
his chest if it wouldn’t wake him.

I wish he’d stir a little, just
enough to roll a bit closer, and hoist his arm around me, pulling me in. Maybe
someday I’ll be with someone who’s comfortable holding me for longer than five
minutes at a time.

My lids become weighted, and
the promise of another hour or two of sleep sings to me. I’m stuck at a
crossroads, torn between getting more sleep or studying the gorgeous, broken
man in front of me. Both equally tempting.

“Go back to sleep, Bellamy.”

He’s
awake.

“Yes, Master.” Even in my
half-asleep state, I’m keen enough to cover my tracks. The last thing I need is
for him to think I was lying here admiring him…

Because I absolutely was.

***

Dane returns from the hotel gym
as I’m about to step into the shower. The conference is in ninety minutes. He
hasn’t said a word all morning, and I’m not sure if that’s normal or not
considering the fact that this is the first time I’ve stayed the night with
him.

With my back to the hot water,
I tilt my head, shutting my eyes. The clink of the shower curtain sends a shock
to my heart, and I grasp at my naked body until I realize that a very
undressed, deliciously sweaty Dane is climbing in with me.

“Oh, hello.” I hand him a bar
of soap. He doesn’t take his eyes off mine for one second. “Have a good
workout?”

His hands grab my ass, and we
switch places, our wet bodies gliding and slicking against the current of
steaming hot water. Even covered in sticky sweat, he smells amazing, and I
wouldn’t mind licking him clean.

“Keep your eyes up here,” he
teases. He’s testing me. He wants to make this a game so that he has an excuse
to punish me should I disobey.

He hasn’t punished me in a
while, and I kind of miss it because no one has ever pushed my boundaries the
way he has.

“I’ll try, Master.” I give him
a wink, resisting the overpowering urge I have to steal a kiss from his wet
lips.

His fingertips graze up my hip
until he reaches a nipple, which he wastes no time twisting between his thumb
and middle finger. Leaning down, he draws the tender bud into his mouth and
then moves to the other. My head dips back, brought forward again the second his
massive erection presses against my thigh and sends a shiver down my center.

Dane’s hand glides down my
slick thighs and up to my core, slipping a wet finger between my seam before
pushing it inside me.

I reach for the shower wall,
gasping and silently pleading for him to keep going. He’s notorious for
teasing, giving samples and previews, and leaving me desperately hungry for
more. Only when I can hardly stand it anymore does he reward me.

My hips grind against his hand,
responding to his every touch. I almost faint when he lowers himself to his
knees and brings his tongue to my clit. With fists pounding the tile wall of
the shower, I whimper and exhale.

It’s my tell.

“You can come now,” he says,
his lips moving against my sex.

I want to grab fistfuls of his
lush, dark hair, but I know I’m not allowed, so I grab my breasts instead. I
need something to cling to that’s not a toy or a strap or an inanimate object.
I ride the wave all the way to the end until I nearly collapse on the shower
floor. Dane pulls me up into his arms, placing me back under the warm, running
water.

Maybe it’s the steam getting to
me or maybe it’s my post-orgasmic brain fog, but I fall to my knees and take
him in my mouth. I don’t ask permission. I don’t think about it. I just act.

He doesn’t stop me, in fact,
his cock throbs in my mouth, growing larger as my tongue circles and swirls
every inch of him from shaft to tip. A delicious bead of pre-cum hits my
tongue, and I know for a fact I’ll be sucking him dry this morning.

I grab the base of his cock, my
tongue dancing across every groove and vein as I pull him into my mouth over
and over. It’s different this time. It’s just us. Naked. In a gorgeous tiled
shower. No toys. No props. No straps or restraints. No need to worry about choosing
my words carefully or asking politely.

Dane grabs a fistful of my hair
and releases a guttural groan, thrusting his hips into my mouth. I suck harder
and move faster, wordlessly begging for that explosion. He tugs my hair hard,
bursting into my mouth at the same time. I swallow every last drop and wipe my
mouth, rising with a satisfied smile.

The second our eyes meet, the
party ends. He doesn’t thank me. Doesn’t give me a verbal pat on the back. He
simply lathers his body with soap, washes and rinses his hair, and steps out of
the shower.

 
 
THIRTY-THREE
 
 

DANE

 

 
“Did you enjoy your stay in Nashville?”
We climb into the back of my limo Sunday afternoon as my driver, Bronson,
hoists our bags into the trunk.

“I did.”

She was quiet most of the way
back, her nose buried in that same damn book. I’m convinced she was pretending
to read it the entire time.

Bronson climbs in the front and
pulls away from the tarmac. By the time we’re merging onto the interstate,
she’s spent the better part of the last several minutes staring out the tinted
window on her left.

The Saturday morning shower
changed things.

I’m not a vanilla man. I don’t
prefer vanilla exchanges. I’m not sure why I allowed what I allowed. I wasn’t
quite sure what to say or how to act afterward. A mixture of warmth, pleasure,
and powerlessness smacked into me like a runaway freight train, and I couldn’t
process it at the time.

I still can’t.

“We’ll do more business trips
together,” I tell her.

She nods.

After we’d left for the
conference Saturday, she spent eight hours manning a booth, and I spent eight
hours giving presentations and personally hosting our keynote speakers. We
crashed that night after ordering room service and watching some historical drama
on pay-per-view.

Now here we are.

Back in Salt Lake City.

Everything around us is exactly
the same, but everything about us has changed.

When Bronson drops her off at
her car outside Townsend Tower, I climb out with her. Not only do I intend on
giving her a proper goodbye, but I need to make sure she’s okay.

And also, I need to know that
we’re
okay.

Bronson pulls her bag from the
limo trunk and wheels it to the back of the Discovery.

“I’ll see you Monday.” I stand
before her, but her gaze is fixed at my feet. “Bellamy, look at me.”

We meet nose to nose and eye to
eye.

I’m losing her.

I can feel it.

And the fact that I can feel it
means something.

Everything about the ache in my
chest that appears when I imagine my life without her in it, tells me she’s not
just my submissive anymore. But I’m not exactly sure what she is, and I’m not
entirely positive I need to go flinging labels on things and making heartfelt
declarations just yet.

I don’t scare easily, but damn
if the thought of opening up to her makes my stomach churn.

I cup her chin, lifting her
mouth just enough. Pressing my lips against hers, I run my tongue along the
seam of her mouth until she opens for me. Our tongues mingle, and my fingers
dig into the soft underside of her jaw.

It’s a passionate kiss: the
kind of kiss lovers might exchange. Fear sinks its gnarled teeth into me,
convincing me that if I don’t kiss her here and now, like this, I might never
see her again.

She pulls away, a definite
first, and slips away, her heels clicking toward her ride.

“Thanks for everything,” she
says, climbing in.

“See you Monday.”

***

I don’t see her Monday.

Instead I receive a text at
eight o’clock that morning, asking if she can take the day off to hunt for
apartments.

I give her permission and almost
offer my assistance, changing my mind when I know she’ll just turn it down. She
wants to do it all on her own, and I respect that.

Relief comes the second I see
her Tuesday morning.

“Find a place, did you?” I ask
after leading her to my office.

Her hands wrap around a mug of
tea, and her glazed expression piques my curiosity.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

“I found a beautiful apartment
on Hickory Street south of Campus Town,” she says. “Two bedrooms. Big windows.
Tall ceilings. A fireplace even.”

“Wonderful.”

“They won’t rent to me because
I don’t have any credit history.” She takes a careful sip of tea, her eyes
fixed on the murky brown liquid. “Called a few other places. They all said the
same thing. I need someone to co-sign.”

“Bellamy,” I say.

“Yes, Dane. I’ll accept your
help, but only because I have no other choice.”

“It doesn’t make you any less
brave or any less resourceful,” I remind her.

“My father pulled me aside last
night after dinner.” She places the mug on the edge of my desk and only then do
I notice she’s trembling. “He told me he suspects that my sister has lost her
innocence and that his only option is to send her off to marry a virtuous man
who can lead her back to the path of righteousness.”

My eyes flick to the ceiling
and back. It sounds exactly like something one of the church elders back at the
compound would say.

“He knows of a man in South
Dakota with five other wives. He’s a wealthy man with a penchant for correcting
women who’ve strayed a bit from their paths. He and my father have been
speaking for a few weeks now, and my father is absolutely convinced that this
is the only option he has to save my sister.” Her bottom lip quivers. “She’s
eighteen, Dane.”

“Now. It happens now. Go get
her. Bring her back. You two are living with me until further notice.” I rise,
but Bellamy doesn’t move.

“I’m supposed to drive her to
South Dakota sometime this week. I don’t know when, but my father made it clear
that he expects me to drop everything the second he gives me the go ahead.” She
shakes her head. “It was so hard to sit there and act like I agreed with
everything he was saying. I know it was all an act, but I still feel sick about
it.”

“Perfect.” I step to the front
of my desk. “As soon as your father tells you to drive her to South Dakota,
you’ll bring her to Golden Oak instead.”

“She won’t go without Jensen.”

“Jensen?”

“Our stepbrother. Kind of.” Her
pale eyes wince. “He’s my father’s third wife’s oldest son from another man.
I’m pretty sure they’re in love.”

I’m not one to judge the
personal lives of others. “Then he can come too.”

“Are you sure?”

I smirk. “Are you surprised
that the tin man actually has a heart?”

“Not at all.” Her eyes light.
“Do you have an extra car in your fleet? One I could park at a shop for a few
days?”

“Of course. What are you
thinking?”

She sits up straight. “I could
leave it at my uncle’s shop, where Jensen works. I’ll tell my cousin that if he
comes in there looking for me or my sister, to hand him the keys and tell him
to press the HOME button on the GPS. It’ll bring him to Waverly. I love my
sister dearly, but if she so much as thought about going back for him and
risking throwing away all my efforts, I’d have to kill her. This’ll prevent
that from happening.”

“Smart girl.”

“Okay.” Bellamy stands, reaching
for her mug. The color’s begun to return to her face along with a bit of hope
in her eyes. “So now we wait for my father to give me the go-ahead.”

“You’ll call me when you’re on
your way,” I say. “I’ll pick you two up in the parking garage. You can leave
her car there. I’ll have it towed.”

“We’re doing this.” The woman
can’t help but smile.

“You worry about getting your
sister here. I’ll handle everything else,” I fold my arms, watching her saunter
toward the door. I promised to take care of her the first week we met.

I can’t help that I’m a man of
my word.

 
BOOK: ARROGANT PLAYBOY
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