Scream My Name (10 page)

L
eila lay on the bed, looking drained, spent. Satisfied.

With her eyes closed, she drew in deep breaths of air as her body calmed after her wild release. His hungry gaze raked her body. Her big, beautiful thighs were spread wide, one drooped over the edge of the bed.

Even in the dark Brandan could see her pouty clit peaking out from the dark triangle, that thatch of hair at the apex of her thighs.

So goddamn sexy.

He had to fuck her again. Now.

He rolled the condom over his shaft and mounted her. She opened surprised eyes and groaned along with him when he eased back inside her hot, sweet, willing pussy.

“Baby, I don’t think I can take you again so soon,” she groaned, and he gently kissed her closed lids before trailing kisses down her soft caramel-colored cheek that tasted as good as it looked, over to her lips. Her ripe, red, luscious lips.

“It’ll be okay, I’ll be gentle,” he promised.

He shifted his hands beneath her head and brought her face close to his as he deepened his kiss in time to his deeper strokes, and thrust his tongue inside her warm mouth.

“Ummm,” she sighed when he swiped inside her mouth, running his tongue around the walls of her mouth, the roof, before slowly lapping his against hers.

“Feel good?” he asked, releasing her mouth.

“Yeah,” she smiled, a small, purely feminine smile that made his breath hitch in his throat.

Laying her head back down he maneuvered their bodies so that she lay in front of him before he eased his dick back inside her, carefully separating the swollen lips, and he pushed into her until he was imbedded all the way back in.

Leisurely he made love to her, alternating his depth and strength of his strokes, from shallow to deep and slow, he rocked into her.

He held onto her breasts and she arched into his palms, her sweet round bottom nestled tightly against him as she accepted him.

He took his time with her, easing a hand in front to brush his fingers over her mound, separating her so that he could toy with her swollen clit.

They made love that way, him rocking into her from the back, her head lying against his chest, accepting his loving until the storm, gentler this time, broke, sending them both into ecstasy.

“So, you’ve been setting up meetings with the others?” Leila murmured lightly, her voice hoarse and strained.

It was the early hours of the morning, and her body, sore and aching from their all-night lovemaking, was firmly nestled against Brandan’s.

She felt the thick muscles in his arms, tense with her question, before they relaxed, and he continued to stroke feather like caresses down the length of one arm.

He moved one of her long locs behind her ear, and kissed her lobe, pulling it into his mouth before slowly releasing it.

She moved her head away.

He sighed, turning her around to face him.

“Lee, it wasn’t like that. I promise you. They invited me to their meeting. I didn’t set anything up.”

With the early morning light filtering into the room, past the wide wood blinds of the windows, she was able to see the sincerity in his eyes. But it didn’t erase the burning sense of betrayal she’d felt.

“I wish you would have told me, Brandan. I mean, I know you’re still after the property and all, but I thought…”

He leaned down, captured her lips in a soft kiss. “Thought what, Leila?”

The question seemed to be asking more than what was obvious. What had she thought?

She ducked her head, unsure…

He lifted her to meet his eyes, one finger beneath her chin. “Thought that what is happening between us goes beyond interest in your property?”

She looked him in the eye, answering, “Yes. I thought so.”

He pulled her into his arms. “It is. Much more than that.” He held her, his head resting lightly on hers.

“So, what do we do?”

“I won’t lie and say I don’t want your property, Leila. I do. But what’s happening between us matters more to me.” He sighed. “Neither will I lie and say I have the answer, a compromise that will work. One that will make you happy, one that will make my partners happy. Or even one that will make your neighbors happy. They all want to sell, Leila.”

Leila felt tears burn the back of her throat. “God, I know. Don’t you think I know that? But what am I supposed to do? I can’t let Aunt Sadie’s go. It’s my last link with my aunt, a woman who raised me like her own daughter. I can’t let her down like that. I can’t sell out,” she cried, burrowing her head deep in his chest, worry, anger, and helplessness suddenly crashing down on her in waves.

Brandan tightened his hold on her. He was at as much of a loss on what to do as she. The only thing he could offer was comfort. He ran his hands over her long locs, noticing the fine tremble in them.

He’d never been affected by a woman, never felt such an emotional attachment to anyone, such that to see her cry, distressed, made him feel helpless.

“You know, I wish I’d had someone like your Aunt Sadie in my life growing up.”

Her soft cries began to wane and she raised her head to seek his eyes.

He smiled down at her. Although her face was puffy and flushed, her eyes reddened from her tears, she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

Damn. He had it bad.

He thumbed a caress down her soft cheek, wiping away the last of her tears.

“My father skipped out on us when I was a kid. We never did have much, and my parents and I were basically homeless,” he laughed without humor.

“I’m so sorry,” she said softly.

He saw the sympathy in her eyes and smiled. “Well, we weren’t ever actually out on the streets. Just went where my father could find work, usually in ranching and cattle. My mom usually got hired on in the kitchens.”

He leaned down to kiss her before continuing. “Dad had a hard time keeping it together. Got drunk one time too many and didn’t show up for work, and the next day we had to pack up. Time to move on.”

“That must have been hard.”

“Wasn’t great. But it could have been a lot worse. A lot of the ranchers hired illegals to work. They’d bring their families sometimes, and share the same cramped quarters that we had. It wasn’t an easy life. But none of us knew better—it was the only life we had,” he finished, remembering the days of his childhood. As a boy, he hadn’t been aware of just how poor he and his family had been. It had taken adolescence and bussing to urban area high schools to realize that.

He remembered the shame of showing up to school in mended jeans and too-tight hand-me-down clothing, and the teasing that ensued before he became aware of just how poor he and his family was.

He shook off the shame of a painful past and pulled her on top of his body.

“Where are your parents now? Your mom? What happened when your father left?”

“Mom kept on doing what she knew, working in the kitchens whenever she could get hired on. Things actually got better once dad left,” he said lightly.

He didn’t feel like going down memory lane, memories of his father’s raging and subsequent abuse whenever he got drunk, how he’d take his anger out on his mother until Brandan had finally stepped in.

The result of his interference was that he still bore the scars, both physical and mental.

“That’s all in the past. Why don’t we focus on the future?” he asked, ignoring the painful memories, and the light of sympathy and curiosity that burned bright in her amber-colored eyes.

He leaned around her body, sought and found a condom, and with her warm body on his, he sheathed his burgeoning erection.

“I can think of much better things to concentrate on,” he said, lifting her by the waist and slowly lowering her onto his shaft until his balls tapped against her mound, and her warm, welcoming sheath gripped him.

“A
n offer came through from the Rodriguez brothers,” Mateo told Brandan as he strolled into his office.

“Asking price?”

Brandan glanced away from his monitor, removed his glasses, and massaged the bridge of his nose before setting the glasses on his desk.

“Hell, above asking,” Mateo laughed, tossing the fax on Brandan’s desk before sprawling down in one of the chairs facing him.

Brandan glanced over the copy and raised a brow.

“I’ll say,” he murmured and placed it to the side. “It’s a good investment. They’ll sit on it for a while and turn around and make a huge profit when they resell it,” he said offhandedly, knowing the nature of the real estate commercial business well.

The Rodriguez brothers’ business was similar to theirs—they bought large land plots and then resold them to investors, mostly for commercial deals. And made a hell of a lot of money in the process. The longer they waited, the higher the tag when they sold.

“No doubt.”

They discussed the deal for several minutes, among new deals they had on their plate, before Mateo mentioned a fundraiser he was going to attend.

As he was speaking, a ding alerted Brandan that he had an email message. He smiled when the small envelope appeared on his computer and saw it was from Leila.

He hadn’t seen her since they’d made love a week ago, having had to go out of town on business. He’d just gotten back to the office, and had every intention of leaving early to rectify his absence.

She didn’t know he was back in town—his intent was to surprise her and pick her up and take her out. In all the time they’d known each other, they hadn’t yet gone out on a real date.

He shook his head, thinking how their relationship had gone from zero to one hundred miles per hour in three seconds flat.

“I’m going to invite Leila to accompany me,” Mateo stated, and Brandan turned his eyes away from the computer and back to Mateo.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

“To the fundraiser. I want to take her to the fundraiser. Senator Montoya will be there.”

“And?”

“And he’s a sucker for a good hard-luck story and a pretty face. He may be able to exert some influence and help her out,” he finished, goading Brandan.

“I don’t give a shit what he’s a sucker for. She’s not going anywhere with you,” Brandan stated baldly.

“Well, why don’t we let Leila be the judge of that?”

“And when in hell did you decide you wanted to ‘help’ her out? I thought you wanted to buy the land,” he demanded.

“I like her. What can I say?” he responded, shrugging a shoulder.

“I don’t give a damn how much you like her. Leave her alone,” Brandan said, his voice calm and devoid of emotion as the two men stared at each other.

“And if I don’t?’

“Mateo, don’t fuck with me on this. Leave it alone,” Brandan repeated in a deadpan voice as the two men measured one another—one with a deadly gleam in his eye, the other’s mocking.

Brandan glanced around the brightly lit ballroom, his gaze running over the glitz and glamour and fashionably turned out crowd, seeking Leila.

He’d gotten caught up in business and hadn’t been able to call her until several hours after his conversation with Mateo.

Surprised and pleased that he was back in town, he could hear the smile in her voice when she greeted him.

They’d gotten caught up with each other’s news, engaging in the type of conversation new lovers often conducted, her deep husky voice soft, sweet, almost girlish in tone, when he told her what he planned to do to her when he saw her next, before he’d steered the conversation around to the fundraiser.

“Yes, actually, Mateo called me a few hours ago and invited me. I didn’t know you were back in town,” she’d said and he’d heard the hesitancy in her voice.

“So, when the cat’s away, the mouse will play?” he’d asked, anger flooding him.

“What are you talking about?”

He heard the hurt in her voice, but ignored it. “You’re not going.”

“Wha—what do you mean, I’m not going? Since when do I need your permission as to what I can and cannot do, Brandan?” The hurt turned to anger, yet Brandan ploughed on.

“I’m serious. Call him up and tell him you have a change of plans,” he demanded, knowing he sounded like a dominating ass, but not really giving a damn. She wasn’t going anywhere with Mateo.

“And if I don’t?”

Brandan cursed, her words mocking him, echoing Mateo’s.

When he said nothing, trying to check his anger, she continued. “Senator Montoya will be there. And unlike you, Mateo seems to actually want to help me save Aunt Sadie’s.” She threw the words at him and Brandan reacted.

“Mateo doesn’t give a goddamn about you or Aunt Sadie’s. His only concern is trying to fuck you. Don’t fool yourself,” he laughed harshly, and knew he’d gone too far when she gasped. “Damn, I didn’t mean that…”

“Yes, you did,” she paused. “But really, is he any different than you?” she laughed harshly.

“Damn it, Lee—”

“Look, I gotta go. I need to close up early so I can get ready. And Brandan, please don’t make the mistake of thinking you own me just because I let you fuck me,” she said, and before he could refute her claim that all he’d done was “fuck” her, he heard her quietly disconnect the phone, leaving a soft buzzing in his ear.

He savagely pressed end, and slammed the phone down on his desk.

“Damn!”

Now, as his eyes scanned the crowd searching for her, his gaze zeroed in on her. Like a lighthouse beacon, she stood out from the crowd.

She, tall and so gorgeous she made his breath catch, was talking to an older man. He walked closer, watching her animated beautiful face as she laughed and spoke to the man he recognized as Senator Montoya.

She had her long dreads—locs, he corrected himself, remembering what she’d told him the correct name was—long and loose, hanging down her back in a thick curtain, pulled away from her face.

She was wearing a short black dress that draped her long, fit body, molding her soft curves and ending above her knees.

His hungry gaze traveled down her gentle curves, down her long shapely legs, legs that had been wrapped around him as she called out his name while he stroked into her.

“Shit,” he mumbled, forcing his thoughts away from the two of them making love before he embarrassed himself in the crowded room of sophisticated partygoers.

He shook his head when a tuxedoed waiter offered him a fluted glass of champagne, and purposefully strode toward Leila.