MrBigStuff-epub Read online

  Her hands landed on his forearms and she bit her lip, too turned on to be offended by his behavior. Her only hope was that he would let her go, because she didn’t have the strength to push him away. “I’m sorry, Jefferson. I had a rough morning and then I thought you were drowning. Stress makes me bossy.”

  Jefferson didn’t let her go, but continued to stare at her as if he knew what she wanted. What she was thinking. Feeling.

  “It’s more than stress. You think I can’t see what you’re doing, but you’re wrong.” He shook his head. “Junior’s not a threat. He’s your friend’s pesky brother with that inconvenient crush you tolerate. He doesn’t have any idea how to handle you. Doesn’t turn you on and make you want to beg for more. He’s safe.”

  He could see through her too easily. That made her nervous. She wanted to push him off of her and tell him he was wrong. She wanted to wrap her legs around him and pull him closer. “Jefferson, let’s take a minute and think about this. You’ve obviously been going through something. Now is not the—”

  “Not the time?” His hand slipped between them to undo the top button of her jeans and his words interrupted her. “I’m going through a rough patch and I don’t know what I’m doing? I suppose that’s true. It’s been one bitch of a week and I don’t appear to be handling disappointment as well as I’d like. Tell me, will I wake up tomorrow hung over but grateful you stopped me from getting you naked, losing myself in this sweet body beneath mine and making you come?”

  “You might.” She had three months of proof that he wasn’t exactly beating down her door when he was sober.

  “I won’t. But if you really believe that then tell me to stop, sweet Caroline. Convince me I should let you leave before I have a chance to thank you for saving me from a bloody end and give you a proper hello.”

  He unzipped her soaked jeans and she covered his hand with her own. There were a million reasons this shouldn’t be happening. More. The fact that he’d just taken a header into his pool stood out. But he seemed okay now. Better than okay. She was the one who felt drunk. She didn’t want him to stop. What did that say about her? Selfishly, all she could think about was how long it had been since she felt like this.

  The last time he touched her.

  “Damn it, Jefferson,” she whispered, reaching up to pull him down for a kiss as her other hand guided his beneath the denim so he could feel how much she wanted him. Everything inside her cried out for him as soon as his lips touched hers. She could see sparks behind her eyelids and feel his full lips firm and part against hers. It was as good as she remembered.

  He kissed her as if he were starving. As if he owned her. He tasted like making out in the back seat of a car. Or playing Spin the Bottle with the Scotch she’d stolen from her father’s office to drink with her teenage crush. He tasted like the first time she’d agreed to be someone’s submissive. Dangerous. Exciting.

  Just one more time, she thought as she opened her mouth to his thrusting tongue and whimpered at how right it felt. We both need comfort and it’s been so long. Just let me have him one more time and I’ll walk away and go back to reality.

  He groaned against her mouth like a man in pain as his thick finger slid inside her sex. God that felt good. Caroline rocked her hips, desperate to be filled, desperate for more of him.

  His neck tensed under her hand and Jefferson lifted his mouth, green eyes unblinking and bright with need. “Stop me, Caroline.”

  She held her breath, watching him.

  He jerked her clinging jeans off along with her black thong and wet socks. She didn’t hesitate, dragging the tank top over her head, flinging it over his shoulder and letting a smile curve her lips.

  “I know how you can thank me, Jefferson. Don’t stop.”

  He swallowed, staring at her breasts. “I thought you had to go. You had plans.”

  “I lied.”

  Chapter Three

  Maybe this was a dream after all. It wouldn’t surprise him. The woman in his bed had been the star of all his hottest fantasies for a while now. She was as wanton and shameless as he remembered, and more beautiful, which he’d thought was impossible.

  Caroline’s bare skin was flawless and buttery soft. Small, firm breasts topped with hard, rose-colored nipples burned his palm as her teeth scraped along his jaw in sensual challenge. Her sable hair was held away from her face with an elastic band, revealing the high cheekbones and long neck he couldn’t resist exploring with his lips and tongue.

  His head was beginning to clear from his marathon pity party, but he couldn’t say he was sober enough to be thinking rationally. They hadn’t seen or spoken to each other in three months and so much had happened since then that he knew he had to slow down. Better yet, he had to stop until he could control himself. But he couldn’t make himself let her go.

  Her smell, her taste, the feel of her wet and hot against his fingers… It was too much to ask him to resist. He was only human, and no man breathing could resist the kind of temptation Caroline offered.

  Don’t make the same mistake.

  He swore silently and lowered his head to take one breast defiantly into his mouth, sucking so hard that she cried out and he felt a new rush of arousal soak his fingers. She wanted him. She still wanted this, at least. Honest sex. No hidden agendas, just lust. You couldn’t lie about lust. This wasn’t a mistake.

  You gave her what she wanted before…

  The night when she’d come into his room wearing nothing but a pair of high heels and a saucy smile came to mind. She’d asked if he needed anything—a drink of water, a bedtime story…or her. His leg had been in a cast, but he could have been at death’s door and it wouldn’t have changed his answer. All he could think about was taking what he’d wanted for as long as he’d known her.

  He could still remember her laugh when he grabbed his cowboy hat and placed it on her pillow-tousled hair, and how she bit her lower lip when he started to touch her. She’d teased him, pretending to change her mind and pull away but when he’d bent her over the bed with a growl she’d chuckled again and he’d known that was exactly what she’d had in mind.

  It had been the best sex of his life. She’d been wild and wicked, demanding and tireless, meeting him need for need and sin for sin until the first rays of dawn sunlight found their way to his window. But though he was willing to admit that night had changed his life, it hadn’t mattered. She’d still left his room without a promise to return.

  Then she’d come to the party he’d thrown to celebrate the end of his incarceration in that celibate prison camp they’d called a reality show. He’d planned to walk the room with her on his arm and show her off before sending everyone else home so he could enjoy her in peace, but he’d ended up dragging her to the bedroom as soon as she’d walked in the door.

  He’d warned her of his plans to pursue her now that he was free, and seen a challenge in her eyes he couldn’t resist. He’d kissed her, pinned her against the door, yanked up the short skirt of her dress and fallen to his knees to have a taste.

  Her garters had scraped against his cheeks, her fingers raking through his hair as he’d pushed aside the scrap of lace that kept him from his prize. She’d given herself over to him with more demand than struggle, one leg thrown over his shoulder, her whispered words urging him on. She’d tasted so good and come so hard on his tongue he almost joined her, would have done more if they hadn’t been interrupted. By the time he’d dealt with a few female guests who were too drunk to drive themselves home, she was gone.

  That was the last time he’d seen her until today. He wanted to kick himself for letting her find him like this, once again at a disadvantage. Once again in need of help. She called him Junior. And according to Trudy, as of two weeks ago she was dating some metrosexual meathead from Scotland. Someone who probably didn’t go on drinking binges and fall into his own pool.

  If Jefferson had been able to pursue her the way he’d planned… But the reason he hadn’t had been another mistake
, one in a long line since he’d decided to temporarily relocate to California. The show. Everything.

  This couldn’t be another.

  He bit her nipple and pinched his fingers around her clit in warning, making her shudder. He knew more about her than she thought he did. More than she would feel comfortable with. She may have been a gossip columnist for a while, but she wasn’t the only one who could ask questions. Finding out about Caroline Aaron had been his secret obsession, even after he’d believed he’d missed his chance with her.

  He knew she’d stopped reporting on the stars’ secrets and gotten a book deal to write her father’s biography. He knew the fetish club she frequented and he’d even gone there himself once or twice out of curiosity. She hadn’t been there, but he’d gotten an earful from some attractive women wearing strategically placed pasties and little else. Everyone there knew Caroline.

  She moaned in pleasure and he knew the meathead she’d been seeing couldn’t be satisfying any of her needs. If he had been, she wouldn’t be here like this. Caroline was as sexual a woman as he had ever known, unapologetically so, but she was also loyal. Faithful to friends and lovers alike. As loyal as she was kinky.

  If he ever met the man he’d have to thank him for being such a fuckup.

  Jefferson knew what it would take to keep her interest, and it wasn’t flowers or love letters that rang her bell. Which was good, since Jefferson wasn’t a love letter kind of guy. He didn’t share Caroline’s or his sister’s talent for the written word. He’d always been better at showing than telling.

  There were things he wanted to show her. Do to her. Things he’d been imagining in the darkest part of the night. Some things that had never crossed his mind until he’d joined an online forum and started reading. They were branded into his brain now. The idea of having her submit to his every dirty whim appealed to something primal and raw inside him. He’d never been good at holding back—he’d never had to be—but it would be worth it if it got him what he wanted. Caroline on her knees.

  He lifted his mouth when he felt her hands reaching for the waistband of his boxer shorts. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Tempting him. Trying to make him lose his mind and forget all the frustration he’d gone through without her.

  Her lashes were lowered, her full lips parted and shimmering with what remained of her sweet-tasting gloss as she groaned. “You know what I want. Don’t make me beg.”

  He forced himself to chuckle. “That’s exactly what I expect you to do.”

  Her eyes opened wide then and he knew she’d heard the steel in his words. He smiled as he pushed himself off of her. “Roll over.”

  She licked her bottom lip, eyeing the tent of his shorts while she considered his words. But he didn’t want to give her time to think. “Now, Caroline.”

  He heard her soft inhalation when she did as he asked. Jesus save me, he thought, staring at the colorful, elegant Asian artwork and poetry inked into her back that brought attention to her sweet, bare ass. He loved this view. He dreamed of it every night and it still didn’t prepare him for seeing it again up close and in person.

  He dug his fingers into her hips and dragged her toward him until her toes were on the floor, her legs slightly spread as she bent over the tall bed. He squeezed the soft, rounded flesh firmly and she moaned again. “Do you like that?”

  “Yes,” she sighed.

  Jefferson didn’t want her sighs. He wanted her out of control. He wanted her screams.

  He stepped to one side, still spreading her cheeks apart with each caress, loving the delicate feel of her skin under his rough hands. ”Are you sure you don’t have any plans tonight?”

  “Mmmm…I’m sure.”

  Pressing one palm against the small of her back to hold her still, he lifted the other and brought it down with a firm, open-handed smack on her left cheek.

  “Jesus!” she cried out in surprise, flinching away as if to turn over.

  He pressed down harder on her back and spanked her again. “Jesus?” he mocked. He landed another smack on her cheek, and then the other, the sounds shockingly loud in the quiet bedroom. “Flattering, but have you forgotten my name again already? Come on now, Caroline.” He traced light swirling designs on her reddening flesh with his stinging palm and she shivered. “I want to make sure you know who I am. Tell me.”

  “Jefferson!” Caroline gasped as his hand came down twice more in quick succession. “Jefferson, what are you doing?”

  “Saying hello in a more memorable way. Enjoying the hell out of this view. Reminding you that lying is wrong. And don’t ask me that question when you already know the answer.” He spanked her again. “Don’t tell me you don’t like it. Look at you. You’re already lifting your hips for more. This is just a kiss to you. Just the beginning of what you want. Tell me I’m wrong.”

  “Oh God.”

  Damn, she was sexy. She was doing more than sighing now and he definitely had her attention.

  He praised her response by slipping two fingers between her legs to slide through her arousal. “Damn, you’re wet, Caroline. It’s been three months but I can still taste you on my tongue. Six months since I had more, but I still remember that too. I wish we hadn’t been interrupted at the party. Scratch that—I wish I hadn’t stopped. Would you have made me? Answer me Caroline. Would you have let me take you in front of them?”

  She whimpered and tightened around his fingers. “Yes.”

  He grit his teeth. “Good to know. Next time I won’t make the mistake of stopping.”

  Exhibitionism wasn’t new to him. In La Grange, their beekeeper Glory loved nothing more than opening her windows at night and giving everyone a show with her collection of erotic toys. He had a feeling Caroline could leave Glory in the dust.

  He couldn’t wait to see how far she wanted to go.

  He lifted his hand again and resumed his punishment. The harder he spanked her, the more she writhed beneath him and the louder she moaned his name. Her cheeks were the color of plums instead of pale cream now, glowing with handprints—his handprints—and she loved it.

  So did he.

  “Are you done telling me we shouldn’t do this? Done feeding me a line about your having plans so you don’t have to stay?”

  “Yes, Jefferson.” She gasped and pushed back against him. “I’m done, I swear. Don’t stop.”

  He angled his next blow so his fingers landed between her legs and her cries took on a higher pitch, so he stuck his leg between hers to widen her stance and did it again. “I won’t stop, Caroline. This pussy needs to be spanked, doesn’t it? Beg me to spank this wet pussy until you come.”

  “Jefferson,” she groaned, her hands making fists in the sheet beside her head. “I’ve never—yes. Yes, make me come. I need it.”

  “You didn’t say please.”

  “Please.”

  “Not yet.” His gaze was riveted to the smooth, pale lips of her sex pinking under his touch. Her arousal drenched his hand and glimmered wetly against the inside of her thighs. He could smell her perfume, her hot skin. He licked his lips, wanting another taste. It took everything he had not to take her now. Fuck her. Claim her the way he wanted to. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed her.

  Not this time. Not yet. The appetizer before the dessert.

  He leaned over her and gripped her ponytail, wrapping her hair around his fist and tugging, letting a little of his frustration bleed through.

  “Fuck,” she cried, her neck arching back from the force. “Yes. Oh my God, Jefferson.”

  The rhythm of his spanking increased and he pressed his erection hard against the edge of the bed to ease the ache. His blood thrummed with adrenaline, every muscle tensed with the effort it was taking to hold himself back. He watched her fingers clawing at the mattress, heard the hoarse, sexy sounds she was making and the wet rhythmic slap of skin against skin, and it all seemed designed to push him over the edge.

  “You love this, don’t you?” he mu
ttered above her, his jaw clenched with need. “Sweet, kinky Caroline in my bed. You could come right now if I let you. Do you need it that much?”

  “Yes. Harder.”

  “You didn’t say please.”

  “Jefferson!”

  The desperation in her voice told him she was as far gone as he was. There would be no drawn out torture this time. It had to end or he would forget this idea and take her now, damn the consequences.

  He slipped his fingers back inside her, pressing his thumb against her clit, and tugged her hair roughly with his other hand. “I’ll give you what you want this time. What you need. Come, Caroline. Come for me.”

  Obeying instantly, she screamed and her body shuddered hard against him. Jefferson grit his teeth again to hold back a ragged groan at her responsiveness, gentling his touch and caressing her while the pleasure rippled through her body in visible waves.

  He was still hard as stone, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so satisfied. Caroline was trembling, unconsciously pushing into his touch as if she craved it. Craved him. He’d done this to her.

  Damned if that wasn’t more addicting than any drink or risk he’d ever taken.

  This was just a kiss, he reminded himself. If he could hold onto the reins, there would be more. So much more.

  He let go of her ponytail and lowered his hand to stroke her back lightly, making her shiver. Neither of them said a word when he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the shower. He didn’t want to leave her alone with her thoughts, didn’t want to stop touching her, but he needed the hot spray to clear his head.

  He could feel her eyes following his hands as he soaped his body. When he offered her a washcloth she shook her head, staring at his cock, still jutting out toward her in demand. He distracted himself by focusing on the bigger prize, rinsing off and reaching for a towel to dry her. Light strokes, careful movements, as if she were a deer in the woods that he didn’t want to startle. Her eyes were big enough—the dark green almost lost to the black of her dilated pupils.