Heart of Steel by Jennifer Probst
He reminded her of a warrior. He stood by the door. Legs braced apart. Thumbs hooked in his pocket as he waited. Dark hair mussed. Eyes narrowed. An unreadable expression on his face that made her more nervous than a testosterone temper tantrum. Waves of energy and tension emanated from his figure and pulled her to him in a way she recognized all too well. She fought the physical attraction that raged between them and awaited his response.
"Are you finished?"
"Yes. I've told you how I feel. Now, I think you should explain your feelings and maybe we can work something out that would be agreeable to both of us."
Suddenly, his mouth curved into a lazy smile and displayed a set of perfectly straight, white teeth. A pure devil smile that promised retribution and promised it slowly. Her stomach twisted in response at the predatory look on his face. With ease he closed the distance between them. His hands reached out to settle on her shoulders, then he ran his palms down her arms in a caress. His voice poured over her like warm, sticky molasses.
"Chandler, in a couple of hours everything will be clear. You'll know me in every way imaginable, and I'll know you. There will be no more communication problems, no more games, and no more lies. I'm taking you to bed, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it."
In one swift movement his hands glided down to grasp her hips. He leaned down and swung her up and over his shoulder, one hand easily holding down her legs to keep her from kicking. For an instant Chandler could have sworn she misunderstood him, until she found herself upside down, being carried confidently up the spiral staircase.
"You can't do this!" She fought for breath as her stomach bounced against his shoulder. "Logan, men don't treat women like this anymore. It's, it's--primitive!"
The rumble of his low chuckle drifted to her ears. "Things were a hell of a lot simpler then, sweetheart. I wanted you to trust me, but I only ended up giving you enough space so you could re-build your defenses. By tomorrow you won't have any doubts left."
She caught a flash of cream carpeting, the sound of a door being flung open and closed, the scent of musk and lemon permeating the air. "Put me down!" she shrieked. "I refuse to be treated in this heavy handed manner."
"Yes, ma'am."
The world shifted as she was dumped into the middle of a four poster bed. She sank into the luxurious mattress and tried to regain her balance. Inching her way to the edge, she tried to make a jump for freedom when a gentle push at her shoulders reversed her direction and caused her to fall back again. This time there was no chance of getting back up.
Logan pinned her under him, his hard muscles pressed against every curves of her body. Her chest heaved and her breasts strained against her silk blouse. Her long hair fell wildly around her, the tawny strands blending with the desert tones of the comforter. His fingers interlaced with hers and held them beside her head. His eyes burned like smoke.
She stuck out her chin with pure stubbornness. "I won't let you make love to me because you have some twisted motivation to make me surrender."
His lips curved into a sensual smile. "I'm going to make love to you because I've never wanted another woman like this before in my life. You invade my thoughts and haunt my dreams. I need you to fill a hole inside of me I didn't know existed before I met you. Those are my motivations, Chandler."
Sexual energy crackled between them like a burst of summer lightning. She closed her eyes. Dear God, she ached for him desperately, ached to believe his words but the fear was still there. The fear a man could deceive her and break her heart. Confusion and desire and anger twisted inside of her, and when she opened her eyes, she let him see it all. "Don't lie to me." Her voice shook. "Damn you, Logan, don't you lie to me."
His grip gentled. "I won't." He lowered his mouth so his breath mingled with hers. "I swear I'll never hurt you. Let me make love to you and show how my body could never lie."
His mouth closed over hers. He let his tongue plunder its dark, silken depths and possess her completely. Fire ignited in his blood as his tongue tangled with hers, tasting her, giving to her, demanding a response until her body thrust against him. Her body trembled under his weight. He rubbed his mouth back and forth over hers. The dark stubble on his jaw and chin rasped against her sensitive lips. She shuddered. His hands untangled from hers to stroke downward, and he felt the tips of her breasts push against the material of her blouse, and the unconscious invitation of her hips lifting against his.
With a low groan, he tore his mouth from hers and eased the buttons of her blouse open. He unclasped the delicate lace of her bra so her upper body was bared to his hungry gaze. His eyes feasted on the glory of her heavy breasts, creamy against the tan skin of his hands. Rosy peaks thrust toward him begging to be touched. He dragged his palms over her soft flesh and stopped at the edge of her jeans, caressing the dip of her belly button, the slenderness of her hips, the flatness of her stomach.
Chandler gripped his shoulders and whispered his name in urgency. She tugged at the edge of his t-shirt with jerky, desperate movements and heard the low rumbling of laughter from him. Then he pulled briefly away to pull it over his head and toss the material on the floor. He was gloriously naked to the waist, and her eyes adored the muscled planes of his chest. Lovingly, she ran her hands over his skin and enjoyed the crisp feel of his hair beneath her palms.
He dragged her upward to press her breasts against his chest and his hands caressed the waves of her hair at her nape. He kissed her with open mouth abandonment, and a low moan rose from her chest.
"Feel how much I want you." He guided her hands to the evidence of his desire. "There's no games or lies between us now. Just give yourself to me and I'll show you how to fly."
She smiled against his lips and dropped butterfly kisses along the line of his jaw. "I only have one problem with that proposal."
He removed her blouse and bra then traced the sensitive line of her naked spine with his fingertips and stopped at the curve of her jean-clad buttocks. "What?"
"I don't want to fly alone this time."
He laughed low. "I'll be with you every step of the way."
With one quick tug at her hair, he exposed the delicate line of her throat and tilted her breasts upward. His mouth lowered to one peak, his tongue making teasing patterns around her nipples. Her nails bit into his shoulders. Carefully, he tugged at the hard crest with his teeth, and then his lips opened and he took her breast into his mouth fully.
His tongue tasted her, drinking in the scent of roses and vanilla that drifted from her skin, suckling gently at the hard nub. Her whimpered cries echoed through the air. As he loved her breasts, she thrust her fingers into the dark strands of his hair and held his head closer. He moved his mouth, wanting more and treated her other breast to the same pleasure as the first.
"Logan, please." She arched upward to get closer to the sweet torture.
"Please, what?" He rubbed his lips over one crest knowing the motion would make her shudder with pleasure. "Please this, Logan?" His tongue licked gently, flicking over the hard nub over and over. "Or please this, Logan?" He took her breast fully in his mouth, suckling, while his hand stroked the skin of her belly. She cried his name.
"Or maybe it was please do this, Logan?" His hands eased down to the snap of her jeans and unfastened them. The rasping sound of the zipper being lowered cut through the air. His fingers slipped into the opening, and the heat of her response burned against the material of her panties. His breath hissed between his teeth as she arched upward.
Chandler was slowly going out of her mind. Liquid heat coursed through her body and pounded between her thighs. She melted into a trembling mass of nerves and responded to every touch, every kiss, every look from him, always aching for something she knew would ease the raw desire throbbing within.
Needing to touch him, she tried to release the buckle of his jeans but her trembling fingers refused to cooperate. A low moan of frustration escaped her lips. "Logan, you're torturing me."
"I'm tor
"The man of steel?" She stroked him through the material of his jeans and felt his hard strength. "I don't believe it."
"I'll have to make you pay for that remark."
With a low mutter of impatience, he tugged her jeans and black bikini panties off with one swoop, tossing them to the floor to join the pile of clothes. He got up from the bed and stripped off the rest of his clothes, standing before her naked.
Chandler sucked in her breath at the raw power of the man, his lean strength and grace evident in his carriage and quiet dignity. His arms and legs were corded with muscles, his stomach flat, his chest and shoulders broad. "You're beautiful," she whispered.
He joined her on the bed and stretched over her. "And you're exquisite," he whispered back. "Your body fits to mine like we were made for each other." His lips played with hers, slipping his tongue inside her mouth to taste her sweetness. He ran his hand ran down her thigh, then back up. His palm settled over her. He felt the heat of her core, and used his knee to ease her legs apart, opening her for his touch. His fingers slipped inside and parted her swollen flesh. She gasped into his mouth and her nails dug into his upper arms.
Fierce satisfaction burned through him at the liquid warmth of her response. His thumb plucked at her hidden nub. He gently guided one finger inside, then gentleness fled replaced by his need to make her soar.
"Logan!" Her cries of pleasure ripped away the steel around his heart. The rippling tension tightened and he felt her body scream for release just beyond reach. He sipped from her lips and swallowed every moan as his fingers pushed her to the edge of ecstasy.
He reached over for the packet beside the bed, taking the necessary actions to protect her. Reveling in her freedom and fierce response, he fought for control over his body, his muscles tight with tension. Taking hard, ragged breaths he eased her legs further apart to settle between them. "God, Chandler, you're so ready for me I can't wait anymore."
"Please, I need you now, I need you..."
He paused at the barrier. Her slick dampness made a path for him. "Open your eyes."
She obeyed, staring into twin burning embers of smoky steel, his face tight with tension.
"I want to see your face when I make you mine."
She shuddered as much from his words as from the slow movement of his body as he filled her, inch by inch. She gripped his shoulders hard, her eyes widening, her breath driven out of her lungs by the sheer size of him possessing her. Her body clenched around him in a tight fist. He buried himself deep inside of her. Then paused.
"Hold on, sweetheart. This is going to be a wild ride."
He moved. The sexual tension escalated to a rapid rhythm as he slowly withdrew all the way and then drove back inside, again and again. Her body arched upward and she held on hard as the pace quickened, faster and faster. His name broke from her lips as she rode a wild wave of desire that filled her up inside to a point where she felt her body about to explode. And still he continued, driving in and out of her wet, clinging heat, her body welcoming him, embracing him, holding him until the orgasm hit hard and she was suddenly pitched into a world of glittering pleasure. Her soul broke out of her body and soared high above as she exploded into a million pieces of pleasure and flew beneath the stars.
She heard Logan's fierce cry, felt his body shudder, and her arms clasped around him tighter and held him close. As she drifted back downwards in a shimmer of foggy pleasure, she whispered the words that refused to be caged any longer.
"Logan, I love you, I love you."
Chapter 11
*
Chandler opened her eyes and the full force of the sun struck her face as it streamed through the open windows. Her gaze settled on the figure next to her. Amidst a tangle of luxurious white sheets she followed the line of a muscular calf and thigh, dusted with dark hair, up to a broad chest which rose and fell with each breath, to the slope of an arrogant jaw, hard cheekbones, and fierce black brows. One arm was anchored firmly across her waist, holding her close. She watched him for a few moments, enjoying the sensual lines of his face, the masculine power he radiated even in sleep, the relaxed pose of his lips. The thought of the pleasure those lips bestowed made a faint blush rise to her cheeks, even as her breath quickened at the enticing thought.
After many hours spent learning every intimate secret about each other, they'd finally fallen into an exhausted sleep. She had thought it would be impossible for her body to crave anymore, but just the thought of his mouth on her sensitive flesh had the power to make her stir once again.
Maybe he'd created a monster.
"Keep looking at me like that, lady, and you're going to get yourself into a hell of a lot of trouble."
Startled, her gaze flew back to his face. An amused glint sparked in gun-metal eyes, and his mouth curved in a hint of a smile. Her blush deepened. "I thought you were asleep."
He rolled over and reached up to push away the heavy waves of hair from her face. "How could I sleep when I felt your hungry gaze on my poor, defenseless body?"
She closed her eyes in embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I know it's crazy, when we spent practically all morning, well, together. I thought it would be impossible to keep wanting you and I'm sure there's only a certain number of times a man can, well, can--oh!"
His mouth covered hers and stopped the flow of words. His tongue dove in and out of her mouth as he leaned over and pressed his body into hers. The bold evidence of his desire pulsed against her thigh. When he finally pulled away, she gasped for breath.
Fierce satisfaction rippled through him. He'd never met a woman who so welcomed his touch on her body; demanded and reveled in the pleasure of lovemaking to such an extent. He'd felt as if he never had a woman give all of herself to him before.
Throughout hours of intense pleasure, she cried out her love to him. The words were like sweet music, ripping at his own control.
Chandler Santell was finally his.
"Don't look so surprised," he said teasingly. "I made plans to be strong and give you time to recover. If I'd known you were having the same thoughts I would have woken you up hours ago."
Chandler laughed and ran her fingers through his dark hair. "You've turned me into a nympho. I was supposed to teach a yoga class this morning. Linda will probably be wondering where I am."
He trailed tiny kisses down her neck. "Hmmm, I have hours of paperwork I'm supposed to catch up on today. But I have a feeling it'll have to wait until Monday."
"That's two days away. Surely, you'll be able to get into the office by tomorrow."
He chuckled. "A day and a half. We kept ourselves occupied all morning. It's now officially afternoon." Her breath caught as he bit her lobe gently, and his tongue explored the delicate shell of her ear. "I have plans for us the entire weekend. Work is not involved."
"What? A business tycoon who refuses to work on the weekend?" She laughed as his teeth punished her. "What could possibly be more important than the Weatherall contract?"
"Our contract. We haven't had our three month review yet." He blew in her ear. Her body shot up in an unconscious, erotic reaction which he watched with interest. "I'm now ready to give you my full attention."
His mouth closed over one breast and drew the tip between his lips. She gasped. "We have a lot of financial figures to analyze," he said. Her nails scraped down his muscled back. "We should go over each case one by one in order to track the full benefit of the program." He eased her legs apart, his fingers playing gently, bringing forth the warm liquid response.
Chandler fought for breath. "How much energy are you willing to devote to this review, Mr. Grant?"
His fingers drove inside of her, wringing his name from her lips. He settled over her and drew her body close to his.
Logan smiled. "I assure you, Ms. Santell, I will give you every inch of my attention."
"We should eat."
"Hmmm?"
She lay against him, her long hair fanned out around his stomach and thighs. He was propped up against the headboard. His fingers rippled through the honey colored strands and arranged each wave at a certain angle.
The sun had sunk low on the horizon and threw shadows against the wall of the bedroom. A cool breeze drifted through the open windows. The cream colored curtains billowed outward, then smacked gently back against the panes of glass. The phone rung on a constant basis, and as the machine automatically picked up, a variety of voices filled the tape, demanding a call back. He'd turned his Blackberry to vibrate. The phone shook with anger as it buzzed insistently on his cherry wood dresser. They both ignored it.
Chandler sighed with contentment. "You know, food. Energy. We haven't eaten all day and I'm starving."
"I knew you'd be a demanding woman."
She laughed and stretched luxuriously. "If you want me to keep up with you, I need to be fed. You have more muscle, and therefore, more energy than me. It's not fair."
"My aim is to keep you weak and defenseless, chained up in my bedroom for the purpose of pleasuring me."