Allure

“But I… oh, God…” Her eyes drift closed as I push upward again. She swivels her hips again, faster, rubbing her clit against me. Just when I think she’s going to take me with her, she gasps and shudders. “Dean… oh!”

 

She rides the wave of her orgasm, which makes her ripple around my shaft. Then she puts her hands on my chest, her fingernails digging in as she lifts herself up and down. That’s what I want—the sight of her working herself on my cock, her breasts bouncing and her belly rippling. Pressure builds fast in my groin.

 

It’s not going to last long for me either, and when she slides down and clenches around me, I’m done. I thrust up into her and come like a rocket, pulling her down to me. Her breasts pillow between us, her nipples hard as pebbles, her breath hot on my mouth. She wiggles her hips, drags her breasts against my chest.

 

“Dean, I want to come again.” Her voice is strained.

 

I roll her onto her back and move lower on the bed. I slip my hands between her thighs, spreading them apart. She watches me as she cups her breasts, her fingers playing with the nipples. The sight is almost enough to get me hard again.

 

She moans and bucks upward when I start to lick her. Sweat beads on her inner thighs. I close my lips around her clit, slip a finger into her, stroking and sucking at the same time. When she fists a hand in my hair, I know she’s close and increase the pace. She comes again with a shriek, gripping my head, holding me against her.

 

I move back up to her and pull her close. Her chest heaves as she drapes herself across me. Her body is warm and loose. I brush my lips across her hair and feel her sink into sleep.

 

This is the only place I want to be. Right here, with her.

 

Everything else has to stay the hell away.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TEN

 

 

 

 

 

Olivia

 

 

 

 

omething is weird. Paige and Joanna West have never made a secret of their hostility toward me, but they haven’t flat-out ignored me. Now when I enter the kitchen to ask about helping with dinner, Joanna avoids looking at me. And at Dean, for that matter.

 

When I catch his eye, I tilt my head toward the garden terrace.

 

Once outside, I turn to him with a frown. “What’s going on?”

 

He scratches the back of his neck.

 

“Dean?”

 

“Well…”

 

“Dean?”

 

A faintly abashed look enters his eyes. “I got into an argument with Helen about you.”

 

“What?”

 

“Well, not an argument exactly. She said some things I didn’t like, and I told her off.”

 

I cross my arms and narrow my eyes. “What, exactly, did you tell her?”

 

“That you’re the love of my life and she could never compare to you.”

 

I stare at him. “Really?”

 

“Not in those exact words, but close.”

 

“Oh.” I don’t know what to say. I’m getting a little mushy inside, but part of me is very aware that Helen likely didn’t take such a comment well. “Um, what did she say to that?”

 

“I don’t know. Didn’t stick around to find out.”

 

“Why did you have to say that to begin with?” I ask.

 

“She was being bitchy about you. I didn’t like it.”

 

“And were your mother and sister there at the time?”

 

“Yeah.” He holds up his hands in defense. “But I didn’t know it. They walked in on us.”

 

“Dean.” I groan and drop my head into my hands. “That’s why they’re being so weird to me. They’re on Helen’s side.”

 

“I didn’t realize there were sides.”

 

“Of course there are sides! When your ex-wife and your current… not to mention last, thank you… wife meet for the first time, how could there not be sides? Especially when your ex-wife is BFFs with your mother and sister?”

 

Confusion furrows his brow. “When my ex-wife is what?”

 

“When they’re best friends forever. BFFs. God, you are such a dork.” I start to pace. “I know I can’t compete with their friendship, and I don’t want to, but I would like it if your mother and sister didn’t wish I was out of the picture. And that Helen was still in the picture.”

 

“Come on, beauty, they don’t think that.”

 

I harden my heart against the endearment that usually makes me weak in the knees. “Yes, they do. And now they’re going to think it even more if you’ve painted us as… as Lancelot and Guinevere.”

 

He grins, which annoys me further.

 

“Guinevere ends up a nun at the end of that story,” he says.

 

“So?”

 

“You could never be a nun.”

 

I whirl around to face him. “Why could I never be a nun?”

 

“You’re too lusty.”

 

With that comment, he glances at my breasts. His eyes darken. Desire tingles through me from that one look. I cross my arms again and frown.

 

“Don’t change the subject. I meant that now your mother, sister, and Helen all think we have some great, passionate love affair—”

 

“We do.”

 

Oh, crap. How much do I adore this man?

 

I struggle to maintain my indignation.

 

“It makes your history with Helen seem even more horrible,” I continue. “So now they’re all going to resent me for giving you what she couldn’t.”

 

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