The Elliotts: Bedroom Secrets: Under Deepest Cover - Barbara Dunlop 10 стр.


The only question left was, would they act on the waves of desire coursing between them?

She knew she wanted to, and shed let Bryan know her feelings in no uncertain terms. But she still wasnt sure what he wanted. He hadnt said a word about it during the silent drive home.

Now, as the minutes clicked by on her bedside clock, it became more and more evident that he wouldnt come to her. He was staying away on purpose, trying to avoid any awkward good-night scenes.

She knew that for him to make love to her would cross an ethical boundary, and she respected Bryans wish not to mix his professional life with his personal.

But how often did two people resonate the way she and Bryan did? How did one simply turn ones back on those feelings?

She couldnt do it.

When more than an hour had passed, Lucys frustrations turned to worry. What was keeping him? What could he possibly have to check on at the restaurant that would take this long? Had something happened to him?

When she couldnt stand not knowing any longer, Lucy got out of bed and threw on a pair of warmup pants and a T-shirt. Hardly clothing designed for seduction, but seduction was far from her mind now. She put on her glassesa new, more stylish pair with lightweight lenses Bryan had insisted on when theyd ordered her contactsand headed for the elevator.

She could get out of Bryans apartment, but unless she found him, she couldnt get back in. So she took a few dollars with her and Scarlets phone number, in case she got locked out. Then she got in the elevator and headed down to the restaurant level.

The restaurant had been dark when theyd arrived home, but she could see a light coming from somewhere now. She tried the door. It was locked, so she banged loudly.

At first no one came, and Lucy envisioned the worstBryan lying on the floor in a pool of blood, helpless to answer her knock. But finally she saw a shadowy figure approaching. Apprehension seized her, followed quickly by a rush of relief when the figure resolved into Bryans familiar form.

He turned the dead bolt and opened the door. Lucy, what are you doing here?

I couldnt sleep. I was worried about you when you didnt come back. She realized how stupid that sounded. She was worried about a superspy, so she was coming downstairs to rescue him?

He smiled indulgently at her. Thank you for worrying. And Im sorry, but I got caught up

What is that smell? she demanded, cutting him off. She yanked the door open wide enough that she could slide inside past Bryan. The smell coming from the kitchen drew her like the pied pipers music.

Its just a dessert.

After all the food we ate at your grandparents house, you were hungry? But even as she said that, her own stomach growled, reacting to the commingled scents. Whatever was cooking, she wanted some of it.

Cooking helps me think, he said.

She zeroed in on the tall cake sitting on a cooling rack. Orange, thats what I smell.

Right. Its an orange pound cake.

And chocolate. And bourbon?

You have a good nose.

What is this dessert? she asked, intrigued.

I dont know yet. Im making it up as I go along.

Lucy inspected the sauces slowly simmering on the stove, taking a good whiff of each one. Her mouth watered. Unable to resist, she dipped a finger in the warm chocolate sauce and took a taste.

Mmmm.

Lucy! This is a restaurant. You cant do that.

Youre not actually going to serve that cake to patrons, are you?

I cant now. But he grinned. Actually, I was planning to eat the whole thing myself.

Not without my help, you dont. What comes next?

She watched as Bryan used a very sharp knife to cut the cake into four layers, all perfectly uniform. Youre good with a knife, she said.

Im good with all my tools, he replied, paying her back for her saucy comments on the beach earlier.

Ill bet you are.

He gave her a warning look, then returned his attention to the cake. He spread fresh whipped cream on the bottom layer, then spooned on some of the chocolate sauce and set the second layer on top. Then came more whipped cream and the bourbon sauce, and another layer. Yet more whipped cream, more chocolate sauce, and some toasted almonds, and the final layer.

I want to drizzle a glaze on top, but Im not sure what to flavor it with. Lemon?

Lucy shook her head. Too much citrus. I dont know what Im talking about, but how about crème de menthe? When I was little, I used to mix orange sherbet with mint-chocolate-chip ice cream.

You innovator, you. He grinned. Okay, what the hell. He quickly mixed up a glaze, adding a dash of spearmint extract rather than crème de menthe, which he thought might compete with the bourbon. He garnished the cake with orange slices and sprigs of fresh mint.

Its the most beautiful cake Ive ever seen, she said reverently.

Youre not laying it on a little thick, are you?

No. Its a work of art. Shame to cut into it. But you are going to cut into it, arent you? she asked anxiously.

In answer he got out two plates, then wielded his knife and spatula to cut two perfectly uniform slices, which he laid on the plates sideways. He topped each with another small dollop of whipped cream and a mint leaf.

Presentation is everything.

Lucy knew she should be admiring the dessert. But shed eyed a small spot of whipped cream on Bryans cheek, and she became fixated on it.

What? he asked.

You have whipped cream on your face.

Oh. He rubbed one side of his face with the dishcloth he kept over one shoulder, missing the spot completely.

Here, let me. She took the dishcloth from him. But instead of wiping his face, she stood on her tiptoes and licked off the whipped cream.

Bryans pupil dilated. Oh, Lucy. His voice was hoarse with suppressed passion. They were standing near the stove, and Lucy reached over to the pan of chocolate sauce, dipped her finger in again, and wiped a little on his other cheek before sucking the end of her finger.

You do get dirty when you cook, dont you? She again stretched up on tiptoe so she could dart her tongue out and lick off the chocolate.

You are a very wicked girl. He dipped a finger into the bowl of whipped cream and spread a smear across her lips. Oh, dear, look, Ive made another mess.

Lucy reflexively licked at the whipped cream, but Bryan shook his head. No, no, youve missed most of it. He leaned down and claimed her lips with his.

The kiss started out light and teasing, but it didnt stay that way. His mouth went hard, demanding, his breathing harsh and rapid, and Lucy drank it in, his passion elevating hers.

She hadnt meant to come in here and seduce him. Not exactly, anyway, but clearly that was what shed done. And this time they were not in a public place, there was no family nearby. They were in a deserted restaurant with just the heady scents of chocolate and orange surrounding them.

Bryans kisses moved from her mouth to her jaw and down her neck to her collarbone. He caressed her breast through the thin warmup. Youre not wearing a bra.

I dressed in a hurry. She pulled his hand against her breast again, hungry for the feel of him. She wanted his touch everywhere on her body.

Bryans kisses moved from her mouth to her jaw and down her neck to her collarbone. He caressed her breast through the thin warmup. Youre not wearing a bra.

I dressed in a hurry. She pulled his hand against her breast again, hungry for the feel of him. She wanted his touch everywhere on her body.

He slid the zipper on her shirt down, following with a trail of kisses that ended between her breasts. Then he insinuated his hand inside the shirt and eased the fabric aside, bringing her breast out into the light.

He pushed her up against the Sub-Zero fridge and kissed her breast, first with reverence, then with an increasing hunger. As he suckled, flames of hot desire shot from her breast through her body to the very core of her, and the heat made her whimper with need.

He peeled off her shirt and then his, fumbling with the buttons in his haste, getting his hand caught in the cuff, tugging until buttons flew off. He pressed his bare chest against hers and groaned.

Oh, yes. The hair on his chest abraded her sensitive nipples, sending more of those white-hot flames licking through her, making her squirm.

Lucy, we have to stop.

Oh, no. No, no, no, dont do this to me.

We dont have any birth control.

We dont need it. I have the implant.

Seriously?

She went to work on his linen suit pants. I wouldnt joke about something like that. Now, make love to me, Bryan Elliott, or that pot of chocolate sauce is going over your head.

Seven

Bryan had always been a man who used his good judgment in all decisions, but he was beyond judgment now. Lucy Miller had just removed the last barrier to their making love. No unforeseen consequences could result from their intimacy.

He kissed her again, inhaling her. She smelled even better than the chocolate, which would have been a poor substitute for indulging in Lucy.

I should take you up to bed, he whispered.

No. Youll change your mind if I give you even half a chance.

Or you will. He slid both hands inside the stretchy waist of her warmup pants. She wore only the briefest of thongs under them, which meant her cheeks were bare. He filled his hands with her rounded bottom while he continued kissing her, rubbing up against her small but perfect breasts. Her nipples were hard as glass beads against his chest, and they burned him like a brand.

She managed to get his pants unfastened and her own hands were as busy as his. She thrust them inside his boxers, groaning as one hand found his arousal.

Whoa, Lucy. He had to distract her or he was going to go off like a defective bottle rocket. He couldnt recall the last time he was this turned on, possibly never. But he felt as if the foreplay had been going on all evening. Every look she gave him, every innocent or not-so-innocent touch, had led to this.

He pulled her pants and thong down past her knees in one fluid movement. She gasped in surprise, but she was about to get an even bigger surprise. He leaned down, placed a shoulder against her waist, wrapped his arms around her thighs, and picked her up in a firemans carry.

She squealed in protest. Bryan, what are you doing? Put me down. She reached out and slapped at his rear, but it was hardly more than a tap.

He retaliated with a slightly smarter smack to her bare bottom. Behave.

Ow! She laughed. What are you doing?

He carried her only as far as the large counter where the chefs assembled the plates of food just before the wait staff whisked them out to their patrons. You think youre the only one whos allowed to do something outrageous? You think youre the only one who can seduce?

Oh, Bryan, I didnt set out to seduce you. Not really. She wrapped her hands around his head, pressing his face against her breasts, and he didnt protest. He was in heaven.

I was worried about you. Youd been gone so long. If you hadnt had the whipped cream on your face, this never would have happened.

Well, it did, missy. You started it and Im going to finish it. He leaned against her, pushing her until she lay with her back on the counter. Then he stripped her pants and underwear all the way off her feet, pulling off her running shoes in the process. They dropped with a clunk to the floor, and he pulled her knees apart and stepped between her thighs.

She quivered with anticipation, and he had to admit it would have been easy just to drop his own pants and bury himself in her. He tested her readiness with one finger and felt that she was slick.

She gasped at his featherlight touch.

Please, she said. Do it now.

Not before hed tasted her. With his own stomach knotted in anticipation, he leaned down and, using his fingers to open her, lightly grazed her with a flick of his tongue.

She wiggled and moaned again. Oh, no, please, no more

Maybe youll think twice before you do that trick with the chocolate sauce again, he said with a low growl before tasting her once more. He held her hips firmly so she couldnt wiggle right out of his reach, and he tasted her yet again, drinking more deeply this time, letting his tongue explore.

Lucy reached out and grabbed a handful of his hair. Bryan!

He did not take pity on her. He waited until he sensed she was verging on the peak of pleasure. Then he raised up, shed his own garments, slid her hips to the edge of the counter and plunged himself into her warmth.

Oh! Lucy cried out. I cantOh, my

Bryan thrust again, more deeply this time, and again until he was buried to the hilt. She was tight and warm and slick and he was going to lose control of himself. It was too much.

He felt Lucys spasms of ecstasy just before she cried out one last time. Three more hard thrusts, and it was over for him, too, but hed known he wouldnt last long inside Lucy. Not with the buildup hed had over the past hourshell, the past days.

Lucy sat up suddenly and, still joined to him, threw her arms around him and kissed him. She clung sweetly to him and rubbed her face against his hair.

Please dont leave me, dont ever leave me, she said. I want to be together like this forever.

He thought about telling her how awkward it would be for the chefs to work around them when they came to work tomorrow, but he held his tongue. This wasnt a moment for humor.

Lucy might seem strong, but in many ways she was fragile, and he had to remember that. She might have been a bit brazen tonight, but he knew she didnt take this sort of thing casually.

He tried not to take her plea about never leaving too seriously. People said all kinds of strange things during a sexual climax. Refined ladies cursed like sailors, and sailors wept like children.

He hoped she didnt mean anything by it. Because he would leave her eventually. No matter how much he didnt want to.

He gently separated himself from her, wrapped his arms around her and slid her off the counter and onto legs that wobbled slightly before she found her balance.

You okay? He smoothed her hair out of her face.

I think Ill live.

Ready to put your clothes on and go upstairs?

You arent seriously asking me to go upstairs without eating some of that cake, are you?

Funny, hed forgotten all about the cake. Lets take it with us. We can eat it in bed.

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