13
Laurelyn Prescott
I lie on my back, naked from my waist down, across an ornate dining table and stare up at the ceiling. I’m lightheaded and dazed during my postorgasmic bliss. Drunk almost. I’m no innocent virgin, but this is new for me. Blake never made me feel like that, not that he ever tried.
I don’t want to think about him. I won’t let him ruin anything else for me.
I feel Lachlan kissing his way up my body and it takes a minute before I’m able to focus on him when he hovers above me. I see his smile and I know he’s pleased with my acceptance of his proposal. He didn’t play fairly, but he got what he wanted from me. That’s something I’ll need to remember in the future.
I wait for the sound of his zipper sliding down, but it doesn’t come. Instead, I hear him tell me how I won’t regret saying yes and I can’t argue because I know he’s right. The next three months are going to be extraordinary.
I find my voice and whisper, “Caveman.” That’s going to be my nickname for him.
He throws his head back laughing and I join in soon after. He’s so beautiful when he smiles. The happiness in his dazzling blue eyes is unmistakable. I’m elated because it’s all for me; I’m the one making him beam, and I couldn’t be happier about that.
He lowers his face to my neck and nuzzles it with his nose. I know he’s smelling me because I hear his long, deep intake of air followed by a sigh. “A caveman. You think that’s what I am, huh?”
I feel the warm rush of his breath against my skin and chills cover my body. “You definitely have caveman tendencies.”
He places a kiss against my neck and I lift my chin so he can have full access. “You don’t like my tendencies?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“I was only helping you say yes,” he reminds me, as if he’s afraid I have forgotten my agreement.
“I was coerced by a caveman,” I laugh. My laughter is cut off by my sharp intake of air when he runs his hand up my shirt to my naked nipple. He rolls it between his fingers and I feel it pebble from his touch all over again.
He sucks my earlobe and it’s a reminder of how it felt to have his mouth between my legs. He whispers against my ear. “But you’re not taking it back, are you?”
He’s coercing me again, but in a different way. He doesn’t realize it, but it’s unnecessary. Paige Beckett already belongs to him.
I think about how much fun his persuasion might be if I tell him I recant. I don’t mind his way of compelling me, but I decide it’s better to not push my luck since he warned me he gets what he wants. He claims to use reasonable means, but I don’t think that’s true after what he just did to me to get a simple yes. “No, I’m not taking it back.”
“Good. That’s what I hoped you say.” His mouth leaves my neck and he pushes himself up to stand. His touch is gone too soon and I suppress a whimper. He takes my hands in his and helps me from the table.
I stand wearing nothing from the waist down in front of him, and I feel vulnerable, even though I know this won’t be the last time I’m naked with this man. The thought makes me want to do my happy dance, but I decide to save it for later when I’m alone.
He picks up my panties and shorts from the stone floor and holds them out for me to step into, like an adult dressing a toddler. I balance by holding his shoulders, and he leans forward and inhales deeply before he places a kiss against my smooth mound. He makes me want to fall back across the table to have a second round, but I resist because I know he has other plans for me.
He pulls my panties and shorts up, and I’m frightened by how well I know this place I shouldn’t go. This man will be hazardous for my heart if I allow it. He’ll use me up if I let him. I know this without a doubt and remind myself of a lesson well learned not so long ago. Never confuse sex for love.
Right now, we’re black and white, but I vow that the second it becomes a hazy shade of cold steel gray, I will get out. No question about it.
He kisses my mouth as I fasten my shorts. I wonder if he does it because he’s curious to see my reaction—if I’ll kiss him back after he’s had his mouth between my legs. I kiss him hard and he smiles.
“Take a walk with me.” He clutches my hand and leads me through the maze of rooms toward the cave’s exit. I’m a little disappointed to leave and I hope he brings me back here again soon. I’m quite fond of his caveman ways.
We walk between two rows of vine-covered trellises that stretch as far as the eye can see. He’s quiet, but simply walking next to him is peaceful. My mind isn’t spinning in search of our next topic of conversation—for some reason, not talking is okay. Simply being next to him is enough to keep me content and that’s when I realize what is happening. He is right about this relationship. We feel relaxed with each other because there are no pretenses.
I’m his for the next three months and I’m prepared for what that means. It’s clear he has boundaries, and he’s told me what he expects from me. I’m stoked about my sudden epiphany and stop dead in my tracks. “This relationship … I get it now. I get why it works.”
He smiles but still asks me for an explanation. “Tell me what you get.”
I think he wants to hear me say the words, and I’m okay with that. “Because we have no pretenses and clear expectations, I don’t feel pressured to be anything but me. I have no worries about what today, tomorrow, or next month means for us because I already know.”
He reaches for my face and strokes his thumbs over my cheeks. He’s beaming as he watches my eyes. “You get it full circle now—what I want and need from you.”
I see how delighted he is and I realize something. Pleasing this man brings me pleasure. Common sense tells me I should be frightened by that, but for some reason, I’m not.
We go back to the cave after our walk and he drives us back to the house. I think about the things he has planned for tonight. I know he has something in mind because this man doesn’t fly by the seat of his pants. He’s done this enough to be calculating, his every move premeditated.
We get to the house and he drops me off by the door while he parks the ATV. I take the picnic basket to the counter to unload it and put the dirty dishes and utensils in the dishwasher. Any other time, I suspect Lachlan would leave the mess for Mrs. Porcelli. Since she isn’t here, I make it my job.
When he enters the kitchen, I’m loading the last of the dishes into the dishwasher. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know, but now it’s done and we don’t have to worry about it.”
He opens the refrigerator and takes out two bottles of beer. He twists the tops off and pushes one across the counter to me. It’s an unexpected surprise, but I guess it’s presumptuous of me to think he only drinks wine. “Have a coldie with me.”
Wine drinking is a lot of work. Beer drinking is more my speed. I reach for the amber bottle and sip without holding it up to the light or sniffing it. I don’t swish it in my mouth to judge its aftertaste. I simply drink and enjoy it because that’s all you have to do.
I check out the label and see it’s an Australian brand. I like it and it goes down smoothly. “Nothin’ like an ice cold beer.”
He reaches for my free hand and tugs on it. “Come into the living room with me so we can talk and relax.” I follow him and we sit side by side on the couch. He’s close enough that his leg brushes mine and I feel like a teenager all over again. The simple touch thrills me beyond belief. “I’m sorry about bailing on you yesterday.”
“It’s fine. I understand that it wasn’t your choice.”
He rests his free hand on my bare thigh and begins to work my muscle like a professional masseur. “What did you end up doing?”
“Addison and I went shopping, which was probably the wrong thing to do considering Christmas is in three days.”
“Did you buy anything?”
“A few things.” I smile when I think of the lingerie. I didn’t know if it would get any use when I decided to blow my budget by buying it, but now I’m certain it will, and I can’t wait.
“I haven’t been in town long, but Wagga Wagga doesn’t seem to have a lot of great places to shop.”
He’s right. The shopping choices aren’t great. I’m used to Nashville. It’s home to all the biggest country stars so places to shop are endless. “It’s a little limited when compared to what I’m used to.”
He’s stroking my leg as he talks about Wagga Wagga, but I zone out for a minute because I’m remembering what he did to me in the cave. I hear him saying something about Sydney and I force myself back into the conversation just in time to hear his invitation. “I have tickets for Madama Butterfly in February in Sydney. Will you go with me and let me take you shopping?”
He’s asking me to make plans with him two months from now, and I realize this relationship gives me the ability to accept his offer without worry about what will happen between now and then. “Sure, that sounds like fun.”
He probably thinks I like opera because I’m a musician, but he’d be wrong. I’m not a fan, but I don’t tell him this because he seems happy about taking me.
We finish our beers and have two more while we talk about everything and nothing at the same time. He tells me more about his life, but he’s guarded and I wonder if he’s telling me half-truths.
I hear “Jolene” by Dolly Parton playing inside my purse. It’s my mom’s ringtone and I’m not sure it’s wise to talk to her after having a few beers, but I decide I should probably answer since I’ve only spoken to her once since I arrived in Australia.
I reach for my purse and apologize to Lachlan. “I’m sorry. This is my mom calling, so I should probably answer.”
“Don’t apologize.”
I take out my singing phone and I’m reminded of the one Lachlan sent me. Neither of us has brought it up yet. I’m not sure if it’s appropriate to thank him for it or not. It’s a weird situation. Not thanking him feels rude, so I’ll think that one over later. Right now, I have to talk to Jolie Prescott.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hey, baby girl. I haven’t heard from you in a few days. I’ve been worried.”
“Mom, you shouldn’t worry. Everything is fine.”
“Well, how am I supposed to know these things if I don’t hear from you?”
“You’re right and I’m sorry. I should have called already.”
“Are you having fun in the land down under?”
Umm, yes. A lot. I delight in the source of my fun today and he holds up his empty beer bottle and waggles his eyebrows. He’s asking me if I want another one, and I nod. He takes my empty bottle and I admire the incredible view as he walks away. He’s been in a suit the other times we were together, so this is the first opportunity I’ve had to see how great his ass looks in jeans.
“I’m having lots of fun, Mom. Australia is great so far.”
She gives me an update on the things I’ve missed in Nashville this week and then I hear her exhale a long breath. That’s when I know there’s a reason behind her call. “Have you thought any more about what we discussed before you left?”
I can’t believe she’s called me to bring this up again. She isn’t going to take no for an answer. “No, I’ve told you, I’m not doing that and I’m not going to change my mind. Please stop asking.”
Don’t get me wrong. My mom is a good woman, but she is approaching the point of obsession with my career and it’s exhausting. “Your father owes you, Laurelyn.”
“Mom, I owe it to myself to make it on my own. When I look back on this years from now, I want to be proud of what I’ve accomplished.”
“Laurelyn Paige, you are Jake Beckett’s daughter and you should use that to your advantage.”
“No, I’m Jolie Prescott’s daughter, and I’ll make my own way. I’m done talking about this. I love you, Mom, but I’ve gotta go. I’ll call you next week.”
I hang up as Lachlan reenters the living room. “Everything okay with your mum?”
Mum. It’s so cute the way he says it. “As good as it can be. She can be difficult at times.”
He passes me a beer. “Did she give you a hard time?”
A hard time is an understatement. “Yeah.”
“Would you like to talk about it?”
No one besides my mother and grandparents know my father is a huge country music star. It’s a secret I’m forced to keep from everyone I know, but I don’t have to do that with Lachlan. He doesn’t know my true identity so that makes him my one exception. “She wants me to threaten my sperm donor with going public about my paternity in exchange for him getting me a record deal.”
That sounds so much worse when I say it out loud and I feel the need to defend her, even if she is wrong. “Please, don’t think my mom is a terrible person. She’s not.”
Lachlan scoots closer to me and puts his arm around my shoulders. He props his feet on the coffee table and I can tell he’s prepared to talk and listen as long as I want. “I don’t think she’s a terrible person. She only wants to see her daughter succeed, but the right way of achieving that has become blurred through her eyes.”
We talk a long while and then go into the kitchen to continue our conversation over Mrs. Porcelli’s reheated chicken casserole. I know nothing about her or their working relationship, but something tells me she has a soft spot in her heart for her employer. I picture a gray-haired woman who loves Lachlan like a son, but then a different notion strikes me. Perhaps she’s younger than I imagine and is secretly in love with him.
We finish eating and thoughts of Mrs. Porcelli fade from my mind as we clear our dishes. When I finish, I’m drying my hands when he approaches me from behind and kisses my neck as he slides his hands around my waist. I think he likes doing that—surprising me—and I imagine him liking other things from behind.
He pushes my hair away from my neck so he can place kisses there and I tilt my head to the side. When he’s done, he reaches for my face and turns it toward him so I’m peering at him over my shoulder. He presses his erection against my bottom and kisses the corner of my mouth. He wants me. Badly. “I’ve been thinking about getting you into my bed all day, and now I’m done thinking about it.”
He takes my hand and pulls me toward the bedroom. I happily follow because I’m ready for this. I’m anxious to begin what he has predicted as the best three months of my life. So far, he hasn’t disappointed me.
We walk into the bedroom and I see my overnight bag on his bed. I wonder when he moved it from the guest room, but I don’t ask because it doesn’t matter. We both know I was never going to sleep in any other bed than his. That’s isn’t why I’m here.
We stand in the middle of the bedroom facing each other and he cradles my face with his hands as he kisses my mouth. His tongue moves slowly in a wave against mine and I melt against him.
He stops kissing me but doesn’t pull away. I feel his mouth move against mine when he speaks. “Do you need a minute?”
His inquiry makes me question if he snooped in my bag and saw the lingerie, but I don’t care. There are no pretenses here. We both know what’s about to happen. The only question is which set of lingerie I’ll be wearing when it does.
“Yes, please.”
He gives me a quick kiss. “Don’t be long. I’m anxious to get you under me.”
We haven’t spent a lot of time together but I can tell that he likes to say things like that. He’s already proven he’s a man who speaks his mind. I bet he talks dirty in bed. I hope so.
I grab my bag and head into the bathroom. I quickly undress and try to decide which lingerie to wear. The naughty Christmas set is on top, but I’m saving it for tomorrow night.
I go with the sheer black lace baby-doll and matching panties—it’s naughty, yet somehow innocent at the same time. Something tells me Lachlan will like having it both ways. When I’m dressed and ready for him, I fluff my hair and finish myself off with body spray as I inspect the final product in the mirror. I feel every beat of my heart in my flushed face, but I’m not nervous. I want this man and everything he has planned for me.
I stop just inside the doorway. This no-pretense thing makes me brave, so I don’t go to him right away. I feel playful, still a little buzzed from the alcohol. I want to tease him, so I put my hand on my hip and lean into the doorframe, supporting myself with a raised hand. The hunger in his eyes tells me everything his mouth doesn’t. He’s dying to have me.
He grins and sweet seduction oozes from him. I melt to a puddle on the floor because I know what he’s about to do with that mouth; he’s going to use it to make me come.
He watches as I walk to where he’s standing by the bed. When I reach him, he twirls his finger in a circle. “Turn around for me.” I’m not sure if he means all the way around because he wants to see the full view or because he wants my back turned to him. I know he likes to touch me from behind so I circle slowly, deciding he’ll stop me if that’s the way he wants me.
I make a full spin before he drops to his knees in front of me. He pushes my gown up above my hipbones. My panties are riding low and he kisses my stomach before he runs his tongue over the jeweled piercing through my belly button. “This was very unexpected today. I like it.”
I put my hand on top of his head and run my fingers through his thick, dark hair as he kisses each of my hipbones above the elastic waist of my panties. No man has ever knelt before me and explored my body like this. On one hand, it’s unsettling. On the other, it’s hot as hell and has me drenching wet.
He hooks his fingers in my black lace panties and drags them down my legs. I have to use his shoulders to balance myself as I step out of them because my head is spinning so hard from everything he’s doing to me.
He tosses them aside and runs his hands up the back of my legs, starting at my ankles until he cups my cheeks and pulls me against his face. His mouth is almost right where I crave it, and I’m ashamed to admit how badly I yearn for it to be on me.
He gazes up at me. He smiles when his eyes meet mine and we don’t break contact as he leans forward to lick me in one long stroke. I’m shocked, but not by the feel of his tongue. It’s the sight of seeing him do that to me. I think he wants me to watch the show.
“Sit on the bed.” I do as I’m told because I’m afraid not to.
I sit farther back than he wants me to, so he grabs my legs behind my bent knees and pulls me until I’m barely on the edge. He takes my feet and places them on the rails and pushes my legs apart. “Don’t lie back. I think you’ll enjoy the visual.”
Oh, f*ck me running! Or on the edge of your bed using your mouth. I watch his head dip between my legs. He uses his tongue to lick me up and down before it circles the place throbbing with need for his attention. He pushes his thumb inside me and glides it in and out while his tongue works its magic. In little to no time at all, he takes me to that place—the one where a little is too much, yet never enough, and I’m close to coming undone.
It’s that spot right there. As I’m sending him the telepathic message, he receives it and gives me exactly what I need to finish. Once the rush of pure pleasure starts, I can’t stifle the incoherent garble escaping my mouth. I fist his hair and pull his mouth harder against me.
I feel a new sensation—tiny quivers deep inside as I spiral down from the place Lachlan has taken me. I come to my senses and realize I’m still fisting his hair. I let go and know I should apologize, but I can’t find the coherency required to speak.
My legs are quivering, boneless appendages in the aftermath and I think my knees will buckle if I try to stand. I look at Lachlan to make sure I didn’t smother him when I slammed his face between my legs. He’s peering up at me. “You are so damn beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I whisper. I’m not sure if I’m expressing gratitude for the compliment or the supernatural orgasm he just bestowed upon me. I don’t have time to iron it out because he kicks off his shoes and strips his shirt over his head without unbuttoning it.
He’s the beautiful one—soft and hard in all the right places. He wastes no time in ridding himself of his jeans and boxer briefs. He’s anxious to f*ck me. And I’m anxious to be f*cked, but first I want to return the favor he has gifted me with twice.
He sees me get off the bed and knows I’m about to drop to my knees, so he stops me. “Not this time. I need to be in control or I’ll blow as soon as your mouth touches me.” Yeah, I sort of know the feeling.
He spins us around and sits on the bed. He needs the control, but I see what else he wants, so I climb up to straddle him. He rubs his thumbs over my nipples through my nightie and I hear him suck air through his teeth when I grind against him.
“I can’t wait any longer. I’ve got to have you right now.”
He loops one arm around my waist and I hang on to him as he leans forward to get a condom from his nightstand drawer. When he sits on the bed again, he lets go of my waist and leans back. He tears the square package open with his teeth and rolls the condom on in one quick motion. I look down because I want to watch, but I’m too late because he’s so fast.
I feel his hands on each of my hips and I’m flipped onto my back. He uses his legs to push mine apart and he positions his erection against the very wet center between my legs. He bites his bottom lip and shakes his head as he groans, “Paige, I’m about to f*ck you so hard. You have no idea.”
And then he drives into me with one smooth motion—hard, just like he promised. Or threatened. I suppress the surprise behind my lips and the noise I make comes out sounding like a moan. He pulls back with deliberate leisure and it feels like he’s going to slide out completely, but then he thrusts into me again even harder. He does this several times and I realize what he’s doing. He’s pacing himself because he wants this to last as long as possible. And so do I.
I’m surprised when he reaches for my feet and brings them up to his shoulders so he can get deeper inside me. It’s slow paced, but every stroke is deliberate. And oh so powerful. Nothing he does to me is unintentional.
He finds his voice between thrusts. “You. Feel. So. Damn. Good.”
But all good things must come to an end, and this does too when everything inside my pelvis tenses and the sensation radiates down my thighs and curls my toes.
Literally.