Hiding in Plain Sight (20 page)

"Yeah, baby," he heard her breathe and his heart did a double thump at her sweet word. 

The car drew even with the motorcycle and matched the motorcycle's pace for more than a few hundred yards before pulling ahead.  He turned his head briefly and saw that there were now only two in the car.  He made a mental reminder to call Atin as soon as they were home.  This game the men were playing had new rules, and he needed to discover them.

"Guess we fooled them this time," she said and Brand could hear the smile in her voice.  He reached and covered the hands locked against his waist with one of his own.

"We did, my bride.  We did."

Chapter Nineteen

"I thought you said it was a cabin," I asked after we'd parked the bike and removed our helmets.  My eyes lifted up, over and around the large structure in front of me.  Yeah, it was made of logs and the steps and porch were made of wood But dang, it was huge. Not only was it double the size of the house I'd grown up in, it even had two stories.

Brand was removing the metal saddlebags but stopped at my words.  He raised his eyes to mine then looked at the building in front of us.  "It is."

I followed him up the steps, our boots thumping against the wood before I saw him unlock the three different locks on the door.  I looked around the grounds and back behind me down the long gravel driveway.  His place wasn't in the middle of the 'hood but he had it locked up as if expecting an army of thieves to steal everything not nailed down.

But then again, maybe he was right to lock things up so tightly if what met my eyes upon entering was any indication of the rest of the house. 

I shrugged out of my backpack as I let my eyes roam over the full open space of the downstairs.  To my right was a couple of large brown leather couches that framed a fireplace over which a huge TV hung.  The kind of TV that would've had my dad and brothers drooling.  The couches were sitting on a brightly patterned, fancy rug and were only separated by a gleaming light wood coffee table.

To my left was the staircase with a large round oak table with six chairs beyond.  There was a matching side board pressed into place between two of the windows.  Behind the dining table was the kitchen.  And oh goodness, what a kitchen!

It was like something off one of those shows on a cable station.  Light wood cabinets with rich, flecked granite as countertops.  Stainless steel appliances, which included a dishwasher.  The upper cabinets had glass doors allowing Brand's colorful dishes and glassware to peek through. 

To the right of the kitchen and behind the leather couches was a huge pool table, the cues in a special holder on the back wall.

"Man," I heard myself whisper as I allowed myself another slow stare. 

I felt his hands slip around my waist as he pressed against my back.

"Welcome home, wife," he said, dropping a kiss on the top of my head.

I turned my head to look up at him.  He had to be kidding, right?  This is where we were going to live?

"Would you like to see the rest?" he asked smiling.

I could only nod and he moved to grab my hand to lead me up the stairs.

He took me from room to room, but my mind couldn't grab it all until we made it into what he softly said was 'our room'.  I would've used the word 'apartment' instead.  It was huge and I was guessing from its placement, the room was directly over the living room and dining room.  But the room had to be big to hold all the furniture in it.

The bed alone was probably the size of my entire bedroom back home and was bracketed by two large nightstands.  At the foot of the bed was another brown leather sofa which faced the fireplace with another huge TV hung over it, and I counted three different dressers, the long kind, strategically placed throughout the vast space.  Besides the door coming into the room, I counted two others.

Just like the downstairs and the dishes, all the colors in all the rooms were done in soft golds, deep reds and rich greens.

I was as still as could be, trying to take it all in but none of what I was seeing was making sense to me. 

"Goddamn," I mumbled and felt my fingers pinching my lip.

Brand came and stood before me, using a hand to stop my nervous tugs before lifting my face to his.  "What are you thinking?"

"Are you rich?" I blurted and wanted to slap a hand over my mouth as soon as the words were out.  He frowned at me, then looked around the room.

"No.  I have money put aside, but I would not say I was rich," he answered with a frown of confusion.  He gathered me in his arms and pulled me to his chest.  "Is there a reason why you are shaking, my bride?"

I hadn't even realized it but he was right, I was shaking like I'd been plugged into an electrical outlet.  I wrapped my arms around his waist and swallowed before answering. 

One of the romance novels I'd read used the world 'squalor' to describe the environment the heroine had grown up in.  At the time, I didn't know what the word meant.  So I wrote it down and then looked it up in the ginormous dictionary that sat on a stand in a corner of my high school library.  I remembered exactly what the definition had been and how, after I knew what it meant, I'd said it to myself over and over.  I even used it in a sentence. 
'My mama and I live in squalor every day of our lives.'

As I felt the warmth of him beneath my cheek and rested my eyes on the different pieces around the room, I could finally change the sentence that held that word.
As long as I'm
w
ith Brand, I'll always be about as far from squalor as you can get
.

"Aren't all brides supposed to be nervous on their wedding day?" I countered, but I knew he wasn't fooled.

"Would you like to take a shower?" he asked, his mouth against my ear.  "You have not yet seen what a wonderful bathroom we have."

I wasn't surprised by how huge the attached bathroom was since size-wise, it was about on par with the rest of the house.  The shower, though, shocked the shit out of me!  Big enough to easily hold four people, it didn't have a shower curtain or even a set of glass sliders.  The water was prevented from splashing around the room by a stair-step pattern of glass blocks and there were three showerheads on the inside.

"How do you get it to work?" I asked him over my shoulder, deep in the shower, my body facing a row of different shaped knobs.  He was holding onto the edge of the entrance, just his head and shoulders in the tiled space with me. 

A very sexy smile, which showed his dimple, made an appearance and his eyes became heated.  "Undress, my Reese and I will show you."

I raised my eyebrows and felt my own smile begin.   He slid his jacket from his shoulders and peeled away his t-shirt.  I stepped to him and put my hands on his sculpted chest, giving him a little shove.  "Do you think you're gonna take a shower with me?"

Brand nodded quickly.

"So I guess I need to be gettin' naked, too then, huh?"

My new husband enthusiastically nodded again before he began toeing off his boots.  But the entire time, his eyes were on me as I started removing my own clothes.  Or should I say, his eyes were on the skin that was exposed as I undressed.

"You are very beautiful," he mumbled and I glanced at him after stomping my way out of my jeans, shucking my socks at the same time.  My glance soon turned into full on ogling as I observed the gorgeous hunk of naked male flesh in front of me.  Caught in the waning sun's rays from just over his shoulders, he looked like a book cover with his hard, curved muscles.   Only where the book cover ended, my eyes continued downward to actually look at that part of him I'd only glimpsed or felt.  It was just as large as I'd imagined.

But I can honestly say there wasn't an inch, not one square centimeter, on Brand that wasn't perfection.

"You too," my whisper echoed against the tiles as I took a step towards him.

He led me into the shower and had me sit on the corner seat as he adjusted the knobs, finding the temperature he wanted.  While he twisted and turned, my eyes were glued to all that wonderful olive-toned skin that rippled over muscle with his every move.

"Come, my Reese.  Come get wet with me," he invited over his shoulder.  What came out of his mouth as a simple directive, hit my ears as downright dirty and I became very aware of the moisture gathering between my legs when I stood up.

The feel of his drenched skin against mine was almost as hot as the fire his mouth was building as he kissed me deeply.  Instead of just holding me, he rubbed himself against my chest, my belly before turning me to burnish my backside. 

"Hair or body first, my sexy one?" he asked on a murmur, his mouth next to my ear causing shivers in spite of the warm water.

"Hmm?" Or at least that was the sound I was trying to make. But between what his hands were doing to my breasts and how his hardness was stroking my butt cheeks from side to side, I think I groaned.  There was a soft chuckle from behind my shoulder at whatever noise I'd made.

He enveloped my breasts in both hands as I felt his tongue glide over the skin of my neck.  Through it all, his long length never stopped its solitary exploration of my backside.

"When I tease my cock over your beautiful ass, your delightful breasts dance for me.  Yet when I flick your tantalizing nipples, your voluptuous butt quivers against my thickness."  His voice was slow, sexy sin.  "Are you ready for me, my bride?"

Again, I reached for the 'hmm' sound but what came out of my mouth was more of a begging moan.  It didn't help that he moved one hand from my breast and did a slow, sensual glide down my rib cage, over my belly until it stopped at what would have been curls if I didn't shave.

"Open your legs," he coaxed, causing a spasm deep within me.  As I did, I felt his fingers resume their downward slide.

"Oh!" I gasped as his touch began to explore the swollen flesh between my legs as his other hand moved to brush against my very sensitive peaks.  I reached an arm behind me to clutch his thigh as my hips started to thrust against his moving digits. 

"Yes!" I heard my voice come out of my mouth as a low, dark hiss.  My knees were shaking and I pressed my other hand against the tile just to steady myself.  "Oh, Bay…"

"Not yet, my sweet draga," he advised before removing his hands and turning to press my back up against the tiled wall.  His mouth dropped to mine for another searing kiss.  "I need to taste you."

Befuddled by his words, I could only stare as he pulled away from me, the desire clearly evident in his face and in the velvet covered steel rubbing against my stomach.  He inched his way down, using his mouth to lick and lave, taste and tempt before crouching on the floor of the shower.  His greeny-gray orbs met mine as his fingers caressed my thighs.  "I have wanted to do this for days."  The sin was back in his voice, and I took it as a warning of the pleasure to come.

Keeping his eyes on mine, he stroked my thighs to coerce them to open further before his thumbs spread my swollen folds.  No one had ever looked at me there but when his gaze dropped to his hands, I heard him whisper in the old language.  I didn't know what he said but his tone told me of his thoughts.  And those thoughts were hot.  Hot enough to cause another deep spasm in me.

When his tongue met my core, I couldn't help the sounds that came out of my throat.   His fevered tongue started slow and flat, lapping gently before he began to pick up his pace and zeroed in on my bead of desire.  Lapping in slow circles, I found my hips followed his slow movements.  Deeply bending my knees to help my hips and follow his tongue, I dipped and swayed.  Mouthing me, alternating as he licked and sucked, then sometimes doing both by pulling my clit into his mouth and holding me still with his hands as the end of his tongue wiggled on me.  I didn't try to stop my cries of delight.  Or my hands that caressed the short velvet of his hair. 

"So good…" I groaned.

I was inches away from finding my orgasm when I felt him slide a finger into the depths of me, which was soon joined by another one.  "I'm gonna…" I tried to alert him of the wantonness flaring inside me; a wildness that was out of control.  And I found my hands were no longer stroking his head, but I was holding him to me, my hips churning and thrusting against his busy tongue.  "Damn, Bay…here," I ground out, my breath hitching.

He moaned and the vibrations of his mouth sent me completely over the edge, yelling his name.  My body quivered and clenched, locking and milking his fingers.  The scorching pleasure robbed me of coherent speech as it thundered through me.  As the sharpness of delight decreased to vibrating undulations, I dropped my head back to the wall and closed my eyes.  That had been the most exciting thing I'd ever felt in my life, with so much power it was almost frightening.