His to Keep (Beauty and the Brit) (13 page)

“What the fuck is a retarded ejaculation?”

“He can’t, you know,
come
.” She mouthed the last word.

Iain’s brows slammed together. “So what, he just keeps pumping, but the well is dry?”

“Sort of. I mean, he gets there eventually. Sometimes. That’s not the point. The business can’t fail. Too many people’s livelihoods are at stake. Besides, Cass would never sell. It’s her baby. It’s the reason she gets up in the morning. She loves TDTC. She’s just not very good at running it.”

Iain stared at her, gobsmacked. “Your boss is telling you about her partner’s cock, and you call
me
inappropriate?”

“Out of everything I said, that was your takeaway? And you
are
inappropriate. That’s not even up for debate. The fact that Cass tells me these things is a burden I don’t want. Nevertheless, I know every disgusting detail.”

“So the next time she starts spouting off, tell her you don’t want to hear it.”

She wagged her finger at him. “That’s really easy for someone like you.”

“What do you mean, someone like me?”

“You don’t care who you hurt. I do. I care very much about hurting people’s feelings. I’m still feeling terrible about insulting you this morning.”

“When?”

“In your office, Iain.” She threw up her hands. “I said some very unkind things to you.”

He thought back. “When you said you hated me?”

She grabbed the napkin and buried her face in it, nodding.

Iain reached out and forced her hands down. “That was nothing. That was foreplay, right? I kind of liked seeing you get all cheeky. Turned me on a bit, I’ve got to admit.”

“Does anything offend you?”

Of course—disrespect, disloyalty, betrayal to name a few. “Not much, pet. But back to your business problems. What can you possibly do to help these people in your office? You’ve a soft heart, Brynnie, and it does you credit. But you can’t help everyone. In fact, you can’t even help yourself, love.”

Ouch. Iain’s words stung. He was correct, but Brynn still felt the wound. And no, she couldn’t go around saving everyone, but she had to try.

“I’ve hurt your feelings, haven’t I?” he asked.

“I’m just too sensitive.”

“You are. But it’s a quality I quite like in you.”

“You see me as soft and weak. You don’t admire that. You’re all brass balls and grabbing life by the throat.”

Iain pushed his plate to one side, leaned his forearms on the table, and angled his upper body toward her. “I grew up hard. I’m not ashamed of it. Yeah, you could toughen up a bit. Wouldn’t hurt you none.” As his accent became heavier, his consonants slurred. “But you’re a kind woman. Delicate. Tenderhearted.” He reached out and stroked her bare pinkie fingernail. “You’ve got quality, Brynn.”

She smiled. “I come from nothing. I grew up in a dilapidated house in North Vegas. There’s nothing quality about me. The only thing of value I’ve ever had was my family.”

His face became serious and a shimmer of tension threaded through his body, sending shock waves from his finger into hers. “Don’t you ever let me hear you say that again. You’re goddamned regal.” Suddenly, as if he remembered where he was, who he was talking to, the arrogant grin whipped back in place, along with that deep-creviced dimple. “If anyone tells you otherwise, send him my way.” Iain let go of her hand and pulled out his wallet. He dropped five one hundred dollar bills on the table. Then he stood. “Let’s go, yeah?”

Brynn exited the booth and, standing next to him, placed her hand on his lapel. She felt the steady pump of his heart. Her hand rose and fell with each breath he took. “Thank you, Iain.”

“For what? Telling you a few home truths?”

“Yes. And for lunch. And for rehiring that hostess.”

“You know my motives. I’m just trying to impress you.”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself. But I think you’re quality, too, Iain Chapman.” She walked toward the entrance of the restaurant. When she glanced back, he was still standing there, a harsh expression molded over his features. “Are you coming?”

Without another word, he caught up to her and placed his hand at the small of her back. His reassuring, warm touch ignited a fire inside Brynn’s belly that was growing into a steady flame. While her sensible brain yelled for her to beat feet to the nearest exit, Brynn’s heart fluttered and skipped every single time he grazed her skin.

As they waited in the front of the casino for his car to arrive, Brynn squinted at the bright sun. The warm wind picked up her curls and she held them back from her face.

“How come you don’t drive?” she asked when the car pulled up.

“A service is more efficient. Driving is a waste of time when I could be working.”

She climbed in, and he took his spot next to her, pressing his leg against Brynn’s thigh. She should have moved away, but instead, she stayed put. Being this close—smelling him, touching him, even through layers of clothes—was heady.

“You know what they say about all work?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He gave her a side-eyed glance. “Makes you fucking successful.”

“What does being successful mean? To you, personally?”

He was quiet for a moment before speaking. “Having ‘fuck you’ money,” he finally said. “Rich enough so that I can tell any wanker to sod off and not have it bounce back on me.”

“That’s it? Boatloads of money?”

He took her fingers and placed them on his leg. Clamping down on her wrist, he slowly dragged her hand from his knee, up his leg. Toward his crotch.

Brynn’s breath caught in her throat. What was he doing? She glanced at the closed partition between the seats, then to Iain’s face. The brown flecks in his eyes grew darker as he moved her hand closer to his dick. Of her own volition, Brynn splayed her fingers across his fly and spanned his erection.

He guided her palm, easing it up and down his long, thick shaft. “Success is getting what I want. When I want it. Right now, Brynn Campbell, I want you so fucking much, I hurt.”

Brynn’s brain sputtered out. Somewhere, in the recesses of her mind, she heard the word she uttered so often:
inappropriate
. But since it sounded weak and distant, it was easy to ignore. Staring up into his face, taking in his shadowed jaw, his intense gaze, Brynn continued to slide her hand over his cock. With long, steady strokes, she applied pressure toward the head and eased up as she neared his scrotum.

Iain let go of her hand and closed his eyes as a look of pleasure crossed his face. That was Brynn’s undoing. Nothing short of a six-car pileup would have kept her from continuing.

“Unzip my pants,” he said, his voice ragged. “Now.”

He used that bossy tone that Brynn loved. She shifted slightly in the seat, leaning her body toward him, and eased the zipper downward. She took her time, felt the click of each metallic tooth pull apart as she lowered the tab.

“Brynn.” It was torture for him. The lines at the corners of his eyes deepened. His lips compressed into a thin line, and his jaw became rigid.

He was
allowing
her to set the pace, she had no doubts about that. Yet if he ground out another order, she’d follow it without hesitation. Brynn was learning a few things about herself in this little adventure. It excited the hell out of her when he was forceful, but Brynn liked knowing that she wielded a sensual power over him, too.

When the zipper reached its end and his fly gaped open, Brynn shifted her hand inside and stroked through his silky boxers. She glanced down, saw that they were navy this time. Her hand slicked right over them and down his cock.

This was outrageous, fondling a man in the backseat during midday traffic. It was insane. It was wonderful. Excitement and nervousness caused her hand to shake. She could deny it all day long, but she
loved
this side of him. Loved that he could produce this level of arousal in her. For other people, groping in a car was probably tame stuff, but Brynn felt wild and out of control as her hand rested against his thick shaft.

Iain sucked in a breath between his clenched teeth. “Stroke me again. Slowly.”

Brynn complied, then slid her finger upward, through the slit in the boxers, skin on skin. She was touching him for real now, gliding her finger over that deliciously hard dick.

Though Iain was calling the shots, for the first time, Brynn felt sexually confident. Touching someone, making love—it wasn’t something to fear. It was something to celebrate. The fact that Iain wanted her so badly boosted her self-esteem
.
This beautiful, biting, intelligent man wanted
Brynn
.

Tilting her head, she dragged her finger over the head and behind the shaft so that she could pop it out of his shorts and have another good, long look. It was as impressive as she remembered. Two thick veins pulsed upward toward the glans, and there was a dewy bead of precome dotting the tip.

Heart hammering against her ribs, Brynn peeked up at Iain’s face once more. Through tight, slitted eyes he peered down at her. His hands were clamped into fists on either side of his thighs. Brynn’s shy touch excited him. God, that was…humbling. Even as she watched his chest heave, her own breathing became stilted. Her pussy grew damp by touching him, by observing his uninhibited response. Knowing how much he wanted her, seeing the evidence of it, filled her with longing. This lust growing between them fed on itself. Pleasing him rebounded and amped her up, made her pulse flutter and her breasts tingle. She was every bit as aroused right now as she had been last night, when Iain had been stroking her.

The driver continued to start and stop, but Brynn barely noticed. The Strip was crowded with tourists, the street flooded with other cars, and she didn’t care. She was too caught up in this. Right now, every bit of her attention was focused on him, on his reactions.

His jaw muscle ticked and he opened his eyes. They were darker now, that deep, warm brown shade, and so expressive. Heat shimmered in their depths, making her stomach flip-flop. “Suck me, Brynn. As deep as you can manage. Lick me like I’m your favorite treat.” His thick, broad accent was harsh, causing trembles to ripple through her body. Brynn’s heart was beating so fast, so loud, she was certain it was audible.

Was she ready to do this? Go this far and take him in her mouth in semipublic?
Yes, she was
. Just thinking about it made her light-headed. She wanted this as much as he did, maybe more.

Lightly, she flicked her short nail down the length of him and then tried to jerk her skirt from beneath his heavy thigh.

Iain raised his leg slightly, releasing her. The second he did, Brynn slid to the floor of the car and maneuvered her way between his thighs. She gazed up at him, seeking guidance.

“Slowly, yeah?” he said. “Start by tasting me. Use your tongue.” She’d never wanted anything as badly as she wanted to lick Iain Chapman.

If anyone in the past had asked her to do this, she would have thought the act so humiliating that she would have hurled herself out of the car. But Iain didn’t make her feel that way. He made her feel safe and sexy at the same time. On her knees, her hands cradling his muscular legs, being commanded to lick him, suck him—she was so turned on, it was delicious torture, this heightened level of desire. Did he feel it, too?

Glancing up into his face, Brynn could see he did. Frustration and hunger coated his features. His cheeks turned ruddy, and stress lines framed his mouth. His entire body was as taut as a wire. Anticipation flowed off him.

Or maybe that was her.

She was anticipating this, too. She’d gotten a quick taste of him last night, but now she wanted to take her time and enjoy this.

Lowering her head, Brynn inhaled deeply and kept her eyes trained on his face. She watched his reaction, tracked every response as her tongue darted out and swept over the length of him. She swirled it around the little dot of moisture, savoring his taste.

When Iain let out a low, guttural growl, Brynn lifted her head. “Fucking hell. Do that again.”

Brynn obeyed, using the tip of her tongue to trace one of the veins from the base of his dick to where it ended, then flicked across the tip. She stopped and waited.

“Again,” he said, his teeth clenched as tightly as his fists.

With a secret smile, Brynn finally stopped watching his face and took a good look at his penis instead. There was no way she’d be able to take him deep. He was simply too long.

Brynn was no blow job aficionado. She’d only given head a handful of times and never found the experience that pleasant. But everything was different with Iain Chapman. He flipped her switch in ways she couldn’t rationalize. And she wanted this—wanted all of him.

Wrapping her hand around his girth, she squeezed lightly. Judging by the moaning, he liked it. Brynn very gently cupped his balls with her other hand, squeezing just a bit. Then she bent down and engulfed the head of his cock between her lips, fluttering her tongue across the top of it—salty, sweet. He began panting and she delighted in it. She was doing this to him, causing his breath to quicken, his heart to race. She stayed there, nursing the tip while she gripped his base more firmly, moving her hand up and down his shaft, jerking him off.

To get her bearings, she slowly began moving over him. After experimenting with pressure and listening to his groans, she started sucking harder. By opening her mouth wider, Brynn found she was able to take more of him. His hitched breath and the way he whispered her name told her how much he liked it.

Up and down, using her hands in tandem, she worked him. Enjoying herself, Brynn inched her way downward, enveloping him as deeply as she could. She only managed to take half of him, but when he fisted a hand into her hair and groaned again, she grew bolder and lapped at his slit.

He didn’t try and set the pace or force her head down farther. He ceded control but held on to her, petting the back of her neck with one hand while he kept a firm hold on her hair with the other.

Brynn began moving faster. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on keeping a steady rhythm. His skin was so smooth, so hot. She pulled her cheeks inward each time she raised her head. Just as she was starting to get the hang of it, Iain’s hand stopped stroking her neck and, instead, gripped it roughly.

“Fuck it, Brynnie, don’t stop what you’re doing. I’m going to come, love.”
Oh God. Yes, please.
She wanted this. His cock jerked against her lips. Warm spurts hit the back of her throat.

Brynn hummed in pleasure. Tasting Iain, swallowing his come, was the most carnal thing she’d ever done. The most intimate. She continued to bob her head, keeping up the pace as another jet shot across her tongue. His dick twitched once more.

“Brynn. Goddamn.” He bucked his hips and sent one last short burst into her mouth.

Even when his hips stopped moving, he continued to pant. Still, Brynn didn’t release him. Though he was semierect, she swirled her tongue around him, licking him clean. After a couple of minutes, she let go of his cock and dug her fingers into his thighs. Raising her head, she swiped her tongue across the corners of her lips where his salty taste still lingered.

He was staring at her with something like wonder. “That was the most fucking brilliant thing ever.”