Yours to Savor (41 page)

“What’s going on?” he asked, feeling a bit of agitation creep up inside. Just then, he noticed movement by the door. He looked past Sandra’s shoulder, and found Clarisse sneaking in, looking as suspicious
as a burglar in the night. “Clarisse?”

Suddenly, Sandra burst out laughing. Clarisse looked at him, a smile clear on her face, and then joined in, too.

Brandon stared at the two women in disbelief. When Clarisse put her arm around Sandra, and Sandra didn’t recoil, but only
laughed harder
, a flash of anger tore through Brandon.

“What sort of game is this?” he demanded.

“Oh, don’t be mad with the girl, dear,” Clarisse announced. “This little joke was my idea.”

“Your idea,” Brandon repeated flatly. He felt like he’d just been run over by a stampede of bulls, resurrected, and then run over again. He looked at Sandra. “You’re telling me this was all a
joke
?”

Clarisse answered instead. “Sandra told me about the way she met you. The two of us thought it was high time you got a taste of your own medicine.” Sandra was just starting to control her laughter. Clarisse beamed at her like a proud mother. “You needn’t worry about us, Brandon. Sandra and I have become fast friends.”

Brandon stared at Clarisse, speechless. He’d learned to trust her over the years, but this stunt was pushing it. On the one hand, he was infinitely relieved she’d patched things up with Sandra. On the other, he was absolutely outraged that she’d thought this
joke
would be a good idea.

“You had no right to do that,” he said, low and angry.

Sandra broke from Clarisse’s grasp to come toward him, but he stepped back. “Come on, Brandon,” she said lightly. “It was just a joke. I’m not
actually
mad at you. Although I have a right to be, after what I found out about Clarisse. I know she’s not really your assistant. But I can also understand why you had her pose as one before.”

“I just told the girl I’m your business partner,” Clarisse announced.

Brandon felt like he’d been punched in the gut. “
Business
partner?” he repeated, narrowing his eyes at the older woman.

“That’s right,” Clarisse said, not missing a beat, “for our real estate development projects.”

Relief swelled in Brandon. If Clarisse had told Sandra about their drug operation, then he had no doubt Sandra’s anger would have been real. But it meant that he still had to explain that to her—that he still held secrets from her. He hated himself for it, but knew he had no other choice. Not yet.

“I thought I almost lost you,” he said, taking Sandra by the shoulders to look her in the eyes. Brandon had
never
been subject to so many emotions so fast, and he
never
wanted to experience it again. “You will not try anything like that with me again.”

“Brandon, relax! We know you have a sense of humor,” Clarisse started. But Brandon cut her off with a violent slice through the air.

“
Never again
,” he repeated, focusing all his attention on Sandra. “I will
not
tolerate jokes like that. Not about my women.”

“Brandon…” Sandra started softly, then stopped and shook her head. She gazed up at him, those stunning silver eyes a window to her soul. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d take these things so seriously.”

Brandon could tell her remorse was genuine. “Anything about you I take seriously.” He turned his attention to Clarisse. “And
you
,” he spat. “You should have known better.”

Clarisse drew her chin up imperiously. “I won’t take that tone from you, Brandon—”

“You will. You will, and it’s better than you deserve. I want you to leave. Now. I don’t want you back until morning.”

For a second, he thought Clarisse would argue. They were partners, and he’d never commanded her like that before. But the situation had demanded it. Given all he’d told her about his feelings for Sandra, she should have had the sense not to encourage such a prank.

Clarisse opened her mouth… and then closed it again, sniffing once before drawing up her shoulders and turning away. “We will speak when I return,” she promised, and walked straight out the door.

Brandon turned to Sandra. This latest escapade had his blood stirred to a boil, and he knew of only one outlet for it.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Sandra watched Brandon go to the door after Clarisse left. He shut it, turned back to her, and closed the distance between them without ever seeming to move. Sandra was yanked hard into him right as his mouth crushed hers.

The angry heat of his kiss made Sandra forget the turmoil of the day. It was nothing like the way he’d kissed her earlier today on the island, or on his boat. There was a fury in Brandon, now, an urgency that was made clear in the aftermath of the ill-advised joke.

Sandra felt it, too.

She’d have thought Brandon better humored, considering all she knew about him. But the way he’d reacted to her made-up outrage was like nothing she could believe. The sincerity and the passion in his voice when he told her he didn’t tolerate jokes about
his
women made her heart melt. His
woman. Is that what he thinks of me, now?

Brandon’s arms hooked beneath her shoulders. He picked her up, and threw her on the bed.

There, Sandra was assailed by Brandon’s unrestrained passion. The rough way he tore off her clothes, the deep marks his fingers clawed into her back warned Sandra that now, she would pay the price for enraging him.

She was ready for it.

As their bodies stormed together, and she fell into the power of his heat, Sandra realized that Brandon’s passion mirrored his emotions. And knowing that
she
was the one to spark such strong feelings in him made her, somehow,
more
open to him.

When Brandon held her neck down and feasted on the exposed flesh, Sandra realized she was angry, too. Angry at herself for mistrusting Brandon. Angry for being so quick to judge him after finding Clarisse on the bed. Angry for all the time she’d wasted holed up in her dingy little apartment, too consumed by guilt and fear to live her life.

So, she raged against him. She pressed her teeth into his flesh, dug her nails into his shoulders. She clasped her legs around his waist in a tight vice and pulled him in.

Surprise flashed across Brandon’s face. He was the one in control, of course, yet now he knew Sandra wasn’t afraid to fight back. She
welcomed
him. A raw intensity erupted on his face as he matched her, rush for rush.

Brandon’s expert hands wore away her body. They were forceful, powerful, and overwhelming. His strength, his pure dominance annihilated her body’s last defenses. His teeth assaulted her breasts, his fists pulled tight against her hair.

With a sudden growl, he flipped her over. A tightened grip on her hips brought them straight in the air.

“Hands,” he commanded, “on the wall.”

Sandra complied.

A faint alarm went off in her head as Brandon’s hand circled her throat. When his other hand pressed into the small of her back to curve her spine down, a whimper escaped her lips. But it wasn’t fear. It was
anticipation.

Brandon’s smooth voice sounded in her ear immediately. “Don’t be afraid.”

She tossed her hair to meet his eye. “Never.”

Brandon grunted, and pushed her spine farther down. Pain flared through muscles that tightened in protest. Sandra knew she was completely defenseless, now. But this is what she wanted. This is what she
craved
.

She cried out when Brandon entered her with that first heavy thrust. All her feelings converged into razor-edged pleasure in her mind, and she was consumed by the ecstasy of Brandon deep inside her. Pain enhanced her senses. She sobbed out as he thundered into her, a plea for him keep going, a plea for him to keep feeding the primal desire within her.

Tears blurred her vision. Brandon’s hand turned her head so his mouth could descend upon hers, muffling the screams. Her breasts heaved as he forced himself in and out. Each stride sent a jolt of pain through her arched, stretched back; each thrust was followed by a surge of pleasure through her deepest synapses.

Brandon’s mouth lifted from hers, and her muffled cries became screams again as she was rocked by a blizzard of pleasure and pain. The flexion of her spine, the feeling of him inside her, the rough way his hands continued to grab at her body assailed her senses to the point of breaking. And when the first wave of orgasm rocked her body, all she could do was cry out Brandon’s name as he owned her entirely.

Behind her, Brandon unleashed a roar of pure erotic triumph as his own climax tore through him.

Sandra was left gasping and raw, amazed by the way Brandon had ravished her.

He had been completely unrestrained in his anger. And she had responded in a way that let him take control.

She was afraid if she tried standing anytime in the next week, her trembling limbs would not be able to hold her.

What amazed her most of all was the way Brandon made her feel whole. Even through the angry passion, the consummate way their bodies linked together was unlike anything Sandra had ever experienced before. She realized, at that moment, that no other man alive could make her feel that way again.

She looked over at Brandon. His chest was heaving, his body lined with sweat. But the anger had evaporated, and there was a softness in his eyes, now. “I’m sorry,” Sandra whispered. “I should have known better than to pretend to be angry with you.”

Brandon grunted. “I want you to know how important you are to me. And a joke like that… the thought of losing you was unbearable.”

“You really care that much?”

Brandon turned his head and looked at her, those beautiful green eyes so intense and heavy Sandra thought he could read her soul. “Sandra, how can you even ask that? Of course I do. I care for you more deeply than I remember ever caring about anybody else. You’re changing me. Even last week, I would have never imagined I’d be in this place. But you’re waking feelings in me I thought I’d suppressed long ago.”

“Really?”

“Really.”