Matchless Millionaires: An Improper Affair
Liquid warmth pooled between her legs.
He pulled his lips away from hers finally and groaned against her mouth. “I want you badly.”
“Yes.” She felt the same way. A faint tremor shook her hand as she raked it through his hair.
He sat back on the bed and bent to take the tip of one breast into his mouth, groaning as he did so and bending her backward.
She gasped and grasped his shoulders in order to anchor herself. The sensation of him heating her wet and tender flesh was delicious. “Ryan …”
When his mouth moved away, she was burning with hunger for him.
He pulled the shirt over her head and she raised her arms to assist him. Then he tugged down the boxers she was wearing—his boxers—and did the same for her panties. Both pieces of underwear dropped to the floor. Then he pulled her down on the bed for another searing kiss.
When her hand accidentally brushed against him, she stroked his erection and he groaned. Finally, when it seemed as if he couldn’t take any more, he pulled his swim trunks off.
She wrapped her hand around him without invitation and his breath hissed out.
A faint smile touched her lips. It felt wonderful to have Ryan Sperling in her grasp, literally, and on his knees, figuratively.
“What are you smiling at?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she denied, but caught the sudden urge to tease him. “Just thinking about giving you pleasure … having you in the palm of my hand—“
He tilted his head, his eyes heavy lidded. “Oh, yeah?”
In the next instant, he pushed her back on the enormous bed and came down beside her, anchoring her.
She squealed and he nuzzled her breasts.
“That first day at Distressed Success,” she said, striving to keep her train of thought, “before I knew who you were, I was immediately attracted to you.”
He lifted his head, his expression roguish. “I wanted you like crazy.”
Her eyes widened. “You did?”
He nodded. “I already admitted I was hitting on you. Of course I had the hots for you.”
“I thought—”
“What?” He smiled. “You think I hit on every young female entrepreneur selling mismatched china?”
She pretended to look offended.
With a grin, he looked at her bra and slid a finger under the band. “Are you going to take this off for me?”
“It’s front closure.”
“In that case—” He raised himself up and undid the clasp between her breasts, allowing them to spill free.
“You’re beautiful,” he said reverently, tracing the outline of one breast.
Then he kissed her and caressed her all over, bringing her to a fever pitch. When he dipped a finger into her damp heat, she went dizzy with sensation.
“Ryan,” she said hoarsely.
But he pressed, making rapid little movements, like the beating of butterfly wings.
She moaned, mindless with pleasure.
Then, all at once, she went up and over and into the vortex, her grip on his arm the only thing anchoring her to the world.
He pressed his mouth against her damp heat, making her gasp again and jerk, even as her fingers threaded through his hair.
She felt the tension within her build again and she trembled against him. Turning her head to one side, she pulled a pillow toward her, trying to muffle the way he made her feel.
Within moments, however, he pulled the pillow from her grasp.
“I want to hear you,” he said hoarsely.
And then he enjoyed her until she felt liquid fire dance along her nerve endings.
Her release was fiery and rapid, bringing tears to her eyes.
She lay limp afterward and thought dimly that her limited experience had not compared to this … had not prepared her for Ryan Sperling.
He pressed kisses to her inner thighs, then levered himself up off the bed. He pulled open a dresser drawer and retrieved a foil packet.
“Because you just never know when you’ll need it,” he explained.
“I’ll do it,” she responded, and watched his eyes flare.
She’d never done this before, but he made her feel daring and bold.
She took the foil packet from him, but when he lay back on the bed, instead of rolling the protection on him, she pleasured him with her mouth.
He tensed with surprise, then relaxed and groaned. “Kelly …”
She heard the warning in his voice but, knowing she was undermining his control, she kept on going.
“I’m about to lose it,” he said hoarsely.
When she raised her head, he gave her a quick hard kiss.
“Bold in bed,” he said, smiling. “I like that.”
It took them a long time to roll the protection on him. In the end, neither of them could wait any longer.
He rolled her under him and parted her thighs. Then, holding her gaze, he slid into her slowly and came down into her arms.
The buildup was slow—and he toyed with her, increasing her pleasure—but when her release came, it was in a rush of sensation so that she gasped and cried out, grasping his hips as she moved against him.
His release came on the heels of hers and he spilled himself inside her.
She held him afterward, knowing that in this moment he was totally hers.
Nine
When Kelly woke the next morning, she glanced over and blinked. Ryan looked back at her, his hair tousled.
She’d done that, she realized, heat rising. Last night, she’d raked her fingers through his hair, and so much more.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Morning,” she said, suddenly unsure of herself.
She tried to glance at the clock on the bedside table.
“It’s only eight,” he said. “Plenty of time for you to get to work, which, in any case, is right here.” He smiled. “Lucky you. You can just roll out of bed and be on the job.”
Last night had been what she’d imagined sex was supposed to be. She’d pictured it in her mind countless times. And it had finally become a reality with Ryan Sperling.
“Last night was incredible,” he said, as if reading her mind.
A pleasurable thrill shot through her. It had been wonderful for her, too, but she wasn’t as experienced in bed as she was sure Ryan was.
“It’d been a while for me,” he stated.
She looked at him in surprise. She was the one who’d been all but celibate most of her adult life.
“Really? Why?” she asked.
“You could say I’ve been consumed with other things …”
“It’s been a while for me, too,” she admitted.
“Yeah, I know.” Under the bed sheets, his hand trailed along her leg.
He knew? Had she been so obviously rusty and inexperienced last night? She felt heat stain her cheeks.
She looked at him quizzically. “How did you know? Was I so obviously a novice?”
He shook his head and gave her a quick kiss. “No, but that night at the White Fir, when I got you home, and before you drifted off to sleep—“
She felt herself tense. She’d wondered whether she’d forgotten some key details from that night.
“—you mentioned you’d been with only one guy before, and then only a couple of times.”
“I did?” Apparently, when she was tipsy, she relished divulging her innermost secrets.
His lips quirked. “You’ll recall your conversation was a little, ah, disjointed, that night. I got you into bed and a second before you fell asleep, you said something about never having spent the entire night with a man before, though of course—” his eyes crinkled “—I was getting you into bed only in the most literal sense.”
Her brows drew together. “So you knew this when you slept with me last night?”
A smile rose to his lips again, even as the heat rose to her face.
“Yeah,” he said.
His words landed with the force of an explosion—at least to her. Looking at him, she knew he had no clue.
The rat, she thought.
He’d known all along just how inexperienced she was. No wonder he’d changed his tune after that night at the White Fir.
What had he claimed as the reason behind his change in attitude? The realization that we all make mistakes?
Well, she’d made a mistake—starting with sleeping with him last night!
She threw back the bedcovers and got out of bed.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
He continued to look guileless—his tone and expression relaxed and satisfied—and it fueled her anger.
She grabbed her clothes from where she’d put them on a nearby chair last night and decided to give him a clue.
“So I was an easy target?” she demanded. “Ripe for the picking because you knew I’d gone so long without, hmm?”
He sat up, suddenly alert. “No. I explained I haven’t had any, either—“
She waved a hand. “Yes, I know. In ages. All the more reason for you to have been thrilled to find a soft target. I just fell into your lap, didn’t I?”
He smiled roguishly. “Well, if you want to put it that way—“
“No wonder you seemed so willing suddenly to overlook the fact I was Brenda Hartley’s daughter!”
“Don’t dare bring your mother into it,” he said, no longer joking as he rose from the bed.
She stomped to the nearby bathroom and slammed the door and locked it.
“Damn it, come back here so we can talk about this!”
She ignored him.
“Kelly!” He knocked on the door and twisted the knob. “Come on out.”
Methodically, she dressed, while he continued to knock and pound.
“All right,” he said eventually. “I’m not having this conversation through the bathroom door. I’m going downstairs to make some coffee and wait for you to calm down.”
She was calm, she wanted to tell him. In fact, she was thinking more lucidly than she had all weekend.
He hadn’t mentioned he knew her sexual history, or lack thereof, until after he’d gotten her into bed.
She thought he’d started seeing her—really seeing her—for the whole of who she was. Instead, he’d seen no more than a potential bed buddy, convinced by nothing more than her sexual history.
She couldn’t believe she’d started falling for him. She was such an idiot.
She dressed quickly, then took a deep breath. She would march out of the house without letting Ryan persuade her otherwise. He couldn’t be trusted.
She would just have to chalk up today as a loss as far as finishing the job at the lodge went. Later, she could figure out how she was going to finish up her decorating work without coming into contact with Ryan. She’d just have to come to an arrangement with him to be at the lodge while he was out.
Taking another deep breath, she opened the bathroom door and looked around.
The room was empty and her eyes strayed to the huge bed. The rumpled and twisted sheets were a reminder of last night.
Resolutely looking away, she stole out of the room and crept down the stairs.
This was the second time she was trying to sneak away, and while she was prepared for Ryan to intercept her, she preferred not to have a scene.
When she’d made it down to the lower level, she sighed with relief.
She quietly opened the front door … and her heart leapt to her throat.
“Brenda?” Her question came out as a gasp.
Her mother, who had been surveying the drive, turned to face her.
Brenda’s bright red lips curved into a smile. “Hello, tootsie. I was just about to ring the doorbell.”
Kelly felt her heart race. No, no, no, she wanted to scream. Not here, not now.
“What are you doing here?” she squeaked.
Brenda’s smile dimmed. “I went by your house, but you weren’t there. When I tried your cell and couldn’t reach you, I called Erica. She was out with the kids, but Greg told me you might be here.”
“I—”
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“Kelly.”
Ryan’s voice sounded behind her and, as if in a nightmare, Kelly watched Brenda look past her, just as she herself turned to see Ryan coming into the foyer.
All three of them froze.
Ryan stared at the woman in the doorway, and his lips thinned. Even if he hadn’t seen her before, it wouldn’t have been hard to figure out who she was. She looked like an older version of Kelly.
He’d come to iron things out with Kelly—because last night had been fantastic, and because now that he’d found her, he wasn’t letting her go. Instead, he was confronted by one of the last people he wanted to see.
“Brenda,” Kelly said, “this isn’t a good time—”
Ignoring her, Brenda sashayed in, looking from her daughter to Ryan and back. “I see I’m interrupting something.”
She looked Ryan up and down in frank appraisal, making his skin feel tight with angry tension.
“What makes you think so?” Kelly asked, addressing her mother.
Ryan could have told her that her high-pitched, slightly hysterical voice was a dead giveaway.
Brenda lifted her hand, with its fire-engine red nails, and rubbed a lock of Kelly’s hair between her fingers.
“Bed hair,” she said succinctly.
Kelly flushed, then looked helplessly at Ryan.
He approached slowly, aiming for a casual stance. “Kelly’s sister, I presume?”
Brenda gave a tinkling laugh, as if she found his question highly amusing. “I see you inherited your father’s charm.”
She turned to her daughter. “I admit being surprised, however, that you picked Webb’s son as your … playmate.”
Kelly drew in an audible breath. “You know who he is?”
Brenda flashed a hard smile. “I make it my business to keep up with all of Clayburn’s current and past illustrious citizens.” Then she looked at Ryan again. “However, the photos I’ve seen of you in the local papers don’t do you justice.”
If the comment had come from anyone else, Ryan figured he’d have been flattered. But this was Brenda Hartley. Clayburn’s erstwhile sexpot. His father’s former mistress. Kelly’s mother.
The last thought brought him up short.
Kelly looked as if she were in agony.
Brenda apparently noticed, too, because she flashed a saucy smile at her daughter. “There’s no need to look panicked, Kelly. I’m just glad you’re having some—” she paused and gave Ryan a sweeping look “—fun. I was starting to worry about you, toots.”
“Why are you here?” Kelly asked, looking as if she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her.
Brenda focused her attention back on her daughter. “Why, to see you, of course!” She leaned in and kissed the air next to Kelly’s cheek. “And you know, I may need the teeny, tiniest—” she indicated how much by a small space between her index finger and thumb “—little loan.”
Brenda glanced at Ryan, her expression shrewd. “On the other hand, maybe these days you can afford more than a little loan….”
Ryan decided he’d heard enough. It was time he took over the situation.
“Come on in, Brenda,” he said.
“We’re just leaving, actually,” Kelly said quickly.
“No, you’re not.”
Brenda clapped her hands. “Oh, I love a man who takes charge.”
His eyes clashed with Kelly’s, before he looked back at Brenda. “Coffee?”
“I’d love some,” Brenda responded.
“Okay, then I’m leaving,” Kelly said.
He shrugged and turned toward the back of the house. He had some negotiating to do with Brenda Hartley, and if Kelly wasn’t around, so much the better.
Brenda started to follow him toward the back of the house.
“Fine,” Kelly said in exasperation behind them. “In that case, I’m going back upstairs to take a shower. Let me know when your coffee break is over.”
Back in the kitchen, he gestured Brenda toward a seat at the counter and removed the coffee carafe from its holder.
“How do you take it?” he asked.
“Black, no sugar.”
“I figured.”
He checked himself, waiting for the hate to kick in.
For years, he’d loathed Brenda Hartley for having an affair with Webb.
Somewhat surprisingly, however, all he felt at the moment was a cool detachment. He was prepared to deal with her in the same way he’d dealt with everything that had stood in his path to date—with unemotional, clear-eyed calculation.
He set a coffee cup down in front of Brenda and asked without preamble, “So why’d you take up with Webb?”
She sipped her coffee and took her time responding. “He was rich—” she gave a throaty laugh “—and good in bed.”
“He’s slime. His wife was dying.”
Brenda shrugged and suddenly she looked every one of her years. “For men like Webb, life’s too short to forgo the kicks.” She wagged a finger suddenly. “But don’t think he’s the only married man to wander. At least he was generous with the perks.”
“I just bet he was,” Ryan replied drily, leaning back against the counter and folding his arms. “But that generosity ended a long time ago and now you’re back to scavenging.”
Brenda’s brows snapped together. “I do not—“
“How much?” he interrupted.
She stopped. “How much what?”
“How much do you need from Kelly?”
Brenda sat back, a slow smile spreading across her face. “I like a man who’s willing to talk business.”
The next morning, when Kelly showed up for work at Distressed Success, Erica was waiting for her.
“Well,” Erica said, as Kelly set about getting ready to open the store for business, “how did your date with Ryan go?”
“Where do I begin?” Kelly responded drily. “Brenda showed up as I was trying to sneak out of the lodge and away from Ryan yesterday morning.”
Erica’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped. It was one of the few times Kelly had seen her at a loss for words.
“Wow … I’m not sure I know where to begin,” Erica said slowly. “Brenda’s in Tahoe? You slept with him? And what do you mean you were sneaking away?”
Kelly filled her in on the events of the weekend, omitting, however, some of the more salacious details. She ended with, “No wonder he changed his tune after that night at the White Fir!”
“Well,” Erica said, “you’re sure leading a more exciting life than I am. Mine’s a merry-go-round of work and kids. Yours is more interesting than watching the afternoon soaps.”
“I’d opt for boring in a heartbeat.”
Erica laughed. “Not with a yummy beefcake like Ryan Sperling around, you shouldn’t.”
“Haven’t you heard what I said? His whole aim was to try to get me into bed.”
“Yeah, that was more or less Greg’s primary goal in life when we first met.”
Kelly looked at Erica, a seed of doubt was sown. Her friend had been married close to ten years, she had more experience with men and she didn’t look nearly as condemning of Ryan.
“Are you saying Ryan isn’t wrong?” Kelly asked.
“No, he’s a rat,” Erica responded cheerfully, “but he’s a man, so the behavior’s understandable—predictable, even.”
“Thanks for the tip,” she said drily.
“Since Brenda is in town, remind me to hide some of the new stock that came in,” Erica replied. “Last time she was here, she made off with a new jewelry box and a small vase.”
As it turned out, Kelly spent the next days having Brenda as her houseguest—and trying to forget Ryan Sperling.
Luckily, she was forced to spend a significant amount of time at Distressed Success. Brenda, fortunately, was more than happy to entertain herself with the attractions of Tahoe and its casinos.
As she got ready for work on Thursday morning, Kelly thought with relief about the fact that her work at the lodge was nearly done. The furnishings had arrived for all the bedrooms, and except for waiting for an odd piece or two and hanging up a few more pictures, she was finished.
Just as she and Ryan were finished, she thought with remaining anger—and a pang or two. Soon, she’d never have to see him again. Her job at the lodge would be done and his month in Hunter’s Landing would be up.
He hadn’t tried to contact her since she’d left the lodge three days ago and, as much as she hated to admit it, it hurt that he hadn’t. She could only suppose that now that he knew she was clued in to his game, he’d moved on to other amusements.
Three days ago, when she’d come back down the stairs at the lodge after freshening up, she’d encountered Brenda in the foyer.
Not wanting another confrontation with Ryan, she’d asked sharply, “Ready?”
“Aren’t you going to kiss Ryan goodbye?” Brenda had responded, a gleam in her eye.
“We’ll be seeing each other again soon, I’m sure,” she’d hedged. “He’ll understand.”
“Take it from me, tootsie,” Brenda had advised. “If you want to keep a man, never leave without saying goodbye.”
Thinking about Brenda’s words now, Kelly sighed. The advice said it all about her relationship with her mother.
She glanced toward her bedroom doorway as Brenda appeared, as if on cue.
“I’m heading out,” Brenda announced.
“What?”
Brenda had gotten back so late last night, Kelly hadn’t seen her—she’d already been asleep.
She glanced down now at the carry-on bag at her mother’s side. “Where are you going?”
Brenda laughed. “Home. You didn’t think I was staying forever, did you?”
Clayburn was home again to Brenda these days, though her mother led such a peripatetic existence, Kelly wondered how long the current state of affairs would last.
She finished buttoning the jacket of her green pantsuit. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. You said nothing about leaving yesterday.”
Her mother waved a hand negligently. “You know I prefer living life in the moment. It makes things so much more interesting.”
Kelly helped her mother take her luggage outside, then paused beside Brenda’s car.
“You never told me how much you needed,” she said, remembering suddenly Brenda’s request when she’d shown up at the lodge earlier in the week.
“How much I needed for what?”
Kelly sighed. “When you arrived, you mentioned you needed a small loan.”
Brenda gave a throaty laugh and waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, that. It’s not necessary anymore.”
Kelly frowned. “What do you mean it’s not necessary? Did you win at the slot machines?”
Brenda laughed again. “Well … I suppose that’s what I should say.”
“Should?”
Brenda leaned in and lowered her voice, though no one else was around. “Your boyfriend asked me to keep this quiet, but what the hell? You should know.” She seemed to pause for dramatic effect, her eyes alight. “He gave me the money.”
“Ryan?”
Brenda straightened, a satisfied look on her face, and she patted Kelly’s cheek. “You have that man eating out of the palm of your hand. I always knew you were a smart girl.”
“How much did he give you?” she blurted.
Part of her didn’t want to know—dreaded knowing, actually—but the other part knew she had to find out.
Brenda hesitated. “Five thousand.”
“Dollars?”
Brenda laughed again. “What else is there? I knew he could afford more, but I also knew asking for more might make him suspicious. After all, I did say I needed a small loan from you.”
“How could you?” she asked, the question coming out like a wail. “How could you take money from him?”
Brenda sighed impatiently. “Why should I have turned him down?”
“Didn’t you think you might be creating … obligations for me?”
“Well, considering you’re already sleeping with him,” Brenda replied tartly, “I don’t see how that could be the case.”
Kelly opened and shut her mouth. It was useless. Arguing with Brenda was like banging her head against a brick wall. They came at things from two different sets of assumptions—two different world-views. She should have learned that by now.
“How did he get the money to you?” she demanded. “Not even someone as rich as Ryan carries around that much cash.”
“He had his people wire some money to me.”