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Secrets of the Tycoon's Bride (The Garrisons #5) Page 18
Author: Emilie Rose

“My father was the same. He lived for work.” A moment of silence passed as if Adam, too, had become lost in his memories and then he shook his head and focused on Lauryn. “I still need you for my original purpose. I want to win that election.”

She set her glass on the table, rose and crossed the room, stopping just inches from him. “I won’t let you down, Adam.”

She’d do whatever it took to help him become the president of the Business Council, and she’d try to make his brother Parker see what a valuable asset he was ignoring.

Rising on tiptoes, she brushed her lips against his cheek. “Thank you.”

His arm hooked her around the waist when she would have withdrawn, keeping their lower halves fused. “For what?”

“For helping me. For believing and trusting me.”

“You should have been straight with me, Lauryn.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Are there any other skeletons in your closet I need to know about?”

She considered telling him about her misspent youth. But her rebellious days were long past and wouldn’t affect him. Tommy was on the opposite side of the country—very likely in jail somewhere given his yen to make a quick and not always legal buck. Besides, the annulment meant legally her marriage had never happened. Thanks to her father, the ceremony she couldn’t remember had been erased from the record books. The whole debacle was too embarrassing for words. She was ashamed of her past, of her obnoxious teenage behavior, her stupid mistakes and her gullibility. And she was afraid Adam would think less of her because of it.

“No.”

“Good.” He discarded his mug, speared his fingers through her hair and cupped the back of her head. And then he kissed her.

She didn’t care if this embrace was window dressing for the housekeeper. All she cared about was the warmth of his mouth and the strength of his body against hers. She hated to admit she’d come to like and even anticipate these public displays of affection a little too much.

He tasted of cinnamon toothpaste and coffee.

His hands slid down her back to grasp her bottom and pull her flush against his tall frame. Hard, hot muscles bunched beneath her hands as she shaped his forearms, biceps and shoulders. His hair was silky and slightly damp from his recent shower, his jaw warm and smooth and freshly shaven.

Adam lifted his head. His labored breaths matched her own and his intense gaze fastened on hers. “Enough. I can’t keep driving myself to the brink of control and backing off. I want you, Lauryn, and I’m tired of playing games.”

The roughened sound of his voice made her quiver. He was right. They couldn’t go on as they’d been. The tension and teasing were getting out of control.

“I want you, too, Adam.”

His nostrils flared and his pupils expanded. “Then we can take the day off and start searching the closets. Or we can go back to bed. Together.”

Her stomach somersaulted. She wasn’t going to fool herself into believing this meant forever. But she liked and respected Adam. And she was halfway in love with him.

“I’ve waited months to find those diaries. I think I can wait a few more minutes.”

His brows shot up as if she’d insulted him, but fire flared in his eyes. “Minutes? You underestimate me, wife.”

A smile tugged her lips. “Prove it.”

Adam swept Lauryn into his arms and headed out of the kitchen.

Her heart jolted at the sheer romanticism of the gesture. She locked her arms around his neck and held on but squirmed when he reached the foyer and didn’t slow down. “Adam, you can’t carry me up the stairs.”

“Want to bet?”

They met the housekeeper coming down.

“Martina, hold any calls. The wife and I are not to be disturbed.”

“Si, Señor Garrison.” Smiling, Martina hustled away as if eager to give them privacy.

Adam climbed effortlessly. His breathing had barely altered by the time he reached the landing. He strode down the hall, not stopping until he reached their bedroom where he lowered her legs, clamped a hand around her nape and took her mouth. Ravenously.

Lauryn dragged her fingertips from his shoulders down his chest and over the rapidly thudding heart keeping pace with her own. Right or wrong, she’d made the decision to do this, to unleash the passion she’d kept caged for so long, and now she couldn’t get him nak*d fast enough.

Her fingers clutched his shirt and yanked upward, freeing his shirttails and allowing her access to the hair-spattered six-pack she’d admired from his loft Monday morning. She splayed her hands over the hot skin at his waist and soaked up his heat.

Adam snapped his head back and reached for his cuffs while Lauryn started on the buttons of his shirt, working her way from the bottom up. When his cuffs were loose Adam released the top buttons, meeting her in the middle of his chest. As soon as the last disk slipped free, she shoved the silk off his shoulders, revealing dark whorls over his pectorals and the line of hair leading to the waistband of his pants. She raked her nails down the path.

His muscles contracted and air whistled between his clenched teeth. He caught her hands, kissed each palm and then pressed them to her sides. He pushed off her new designer suit jacket. It piled on the floor at her feet. Her blouse became his next target. Making fast work of the buttons, he sent it after her jacket.

Inhaling deeply, he reared back to take in her lavender lace bra. He lifted his hands and with his pointer fingers traced the thin straps from her shoulders down over the swells of her br**sts to the tiny bow in the front. He cupped her briefly and then shoved the straps from her shoulders to her elbows, pinning her upper arms by her sides like a lingerie strait-jacket. Then he folded the fabric cups beneath her flesh, exposing her to his devouring gaze.

Her n**ples hardened and her internal muscles clenched in anticipation. She held her breath as he bent his head and then his hot, wet mouth engulfed her, laved her, suckled her. She bit her lip on a moan. He rewarded the sound by cradling and caressing her other breast. Need twisted deep inside her. Spiraling. Tightening. She speared her fingers through his hair and held him close until impatience with her restricted movements became too bothersome to bear.

Lauryn reached behind her back, flicked open her bra and shrugged out of the garment. She needed him nak*d, needed to touch him. Her fingers found and released his leather belt and then the hook of his trousers. She eased the zipper down, reached inside to stroke him and found flesh. Hard. Hot. Smooth. Bare flesh.

Gasping, she jerked back. His pants glided past his narrow h*ps and down his legs. “You’re not wearing underwear.”

“Never do.” Adam kicked his shoes and pants aside. He whipped off his socks and straightened.

His erection rose thick and long from a dense nest of dark, wiry curls. Her fingers curled involuntarily in expectation of touching him, but he captured her hands, laced his fingers through hers and waltzed her backward until the dais on which the raised bed sat bumped her heels.

His arms encircled her, briefly searing his chest to her br**sts and his hard length to her belly. Her lungs emptied in a rush. He unbuttoned and unzipped her skirt, letting it drop to the floor to reveal her high-cut lavender lace panties.

“Nice.” His growl made the blasé word sound wicked. He knelt, and, hooking his fingers in the elastic, tugged the panties to her ankles. He leaned forward, pressed his cheek to her triangle of curls and inhaled. “Your scent drives me crazy.”

Her knees buckled. Adam scooped her up, carried her to the freshly made bed, ripped back the nubby silk spread and lowered her onto to Egyptian cotton sheets. The fabric was cool against her back in contrast to the hot palms skimming her underwear past her ankles, but leaving high-heeled sandals behind.

He sat back on his haunches and looked his fill. “You’re beautiful.”

She’d heard those words before. But she could see in Adam’s eyes that he meant them. He wasn’t spewing empty flattery to get what he wanted. He wanted her. Not just sex. Not just a female receptacle. Her.

And suddenly she realized this wasn’t the tawdry, meaningless sex of her teens or the itch to defy her father and test her womanly wings. This was…more. And that worried her a little because “more” wasn’t part of their marriage agreement.

Adam feathered the lightest of touches around her ankles, over her calves and shins, moving closer and closer to her apex, but with teasing detours behind her knees, to the outside of her thighs and then finally, finally where she wanted him.

“Oooh.” Her h*ps jolted off the mattress at the electrifying initial contact of his fingers against her center. He stroked, found her wetness and smoothed it over her sensitized flesh with a slightly roughened fingertip.

It was too much. Not enough. Exactly right.

And then his mouth found hers and his tongue plunged deep in tandem with his fingers doing the same much lower. Her cry of ecstasy filled his mouth. He carried her swiftly toward cli**x, but let her drift back down short of her goal. He repeated his sensual teasing again and again until, tense and desperate, she writhed beside him.

She clutched his hair, his shoulders, his back, begging with actions rather than words. And then she covered his hand with hers, holding him at her center. “Please. Now.”

Adam rocked back. His passion-darkened gaze held hers for countless seconds and then he rolled away. Lauryn wanted to scream in frustration, but then she realized what he was doing.

Protection. How could she have forgotten? Even in her crazy, careless, rebellious past she’d never forgotten protection.

He opened the nightstand drawer, withdrew a condom and returned to her.

She should confront him about his cocky assurance that she’d sleep with him. Maybe later.

She snatched the package from his hand, but then made a few torturous detours of her own. He wanted to make her beg? Well, she could return the favor. She lightly scraped her nails over his chest, abdomen, h*ps and legs, and finally, his sex. His groan, the jerk of his flesh, the dewy drop of arousal at his tip combined to excite her even more. When she couldn’t wait another second, she tore open the wrapper and rolled the condom down his rigid length.

Before she could consider her next move he had her flat on her back, his thighs between hers, and his erection at her entrance. Adam cupped her bottom, lifted and plunged deep.

The air gushed from her lungs on a cry as he filled her. Adam froze with his jaw rigid and his unblinking gaze locked on hers. “Lauryn?”

“Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

“You’re so damn tight. Were you—”

“No. But it’s been a while. This is…good.”

The devilish glint returned to his eyes but didn’t completely erase the hint of concern. He gently stroked the back of his knuckles across her cheek. “Only good?”

She pressed her heels into the mattress and arched her h*ps to take him deeper. Pure hunger wiped the smile from his face.

“Really good. Great. Adam. I. Can’t. Wait. Please.”

She didn’t have to repeat her request a third time. He withdrew and thrust again and again, suffusing her with a heat that intensified with each powerful surge. With his hands, mouth and body, touching, tasting, thrusting, he rushed her into the fastest and most consuming orgasm of her life. It ripped through her like a tornado, leaving her weak and clinging, winded and shattered. But he wasn’t finished. Adam coaxed her into a second and a third before he joined her, his groan echoing through the bedroom.

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