Scream My Name (11 page)

“I
’ve been looking all over for you, darlin’,” a familiar baritone whispered loudly enough for Senator Montoya to hear. Leila felt her cheeks warm in anger.

He nuzzled the side of her neck briefly, and smooth as butter on a hot skillet, deftly removed from the man’s outstretched hand the card the Senator was in the process of handing her.

“Ted, would you mind if I took the beautiful young lady away from you? She’s promised me the next dance.”

The shorter man winked broadly, a huge grin on his face as though the two men shared some joke beyond her weak feminine grasp, and left.

The sympathy she’d seen on his face as she’d spoken to him about Aunt Sadie’s had been replaced by a look of what appeared to be relief, as though he’d been rescued.

Leila opened her mouth to speak, to bring the retreating Senator back to her side. Immediately, Brandan pressed her tighter against his hard body. She felt his warm breath against her temple as he spoke for her ears alone. “Let it go, Lee. I warned you not to come here.”

“Let
me
go,” Leila gritted between clenched teeth.

She felt the muscles in the corner of her mouth twitch with the effort to keep the smile on her face, so others wouldn’t know what was going on between them.

The band struck up again, music filling the ballroom, and Brandan turned her around to face him. “Let’s dance.”

Her angry yet hungry eyes raked over his handsome form, decked out in a black tuxedo, complete with bolero tie, his big body looking resplendent in his formal clothes.

She wanted to maintain her anger with him, the last words they’d exchanged still heavy in her mind, and knew that if she was in his company for more than five hot seconds and danced with him, she’d fall victim yet again to their crazy, electric chemistry, something she didn’t feel like doing until she got a grip on her emotions.

She turned away from him, intending to put as much distance between them as she could, but he pulled her back.

Without waiting for her reply, he held her hand firmly within his and led her around the fast-filling dance floor. Once he’d gotten them a space, he turned her around and pulled her close.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, bringing her body flush with his as he moved his body and hers in time to the slow, sensual beat of the band.

“What are you doing here? What did you hope to accomplish by coming here with Mateo, Lee?” he asked, giving her no time to compose herself as his hard body brushed against her. Hypersensitive to his touch, she sought to pull back.

He immediately pulled her in again, tightening his hold around her waist.

“What do you care? It’s not your neighbors losing their businesses, their livelihoods, not your children losing their park! And you most certainly don’t care about me!” She refrained from sticking out her tongue at him. Just barely, as she tacked on that last bit out of spite and anger, remembering their last conversation and they way he’d
told
her not to show up at the fundraiser with his partner.

“Does this feel like I don’t care?” he asked, bringing their lower bodies into closer alignment.

Leila’s heart slammed against her chest, and her mouth went dry when she felt his hard length pressed intimately against hers.

Leila closed her eyes and shut down her body’s immediate reaction, refusing to get caught up with him again. “That doesn’t impress me,” she lied blithely.

“Not if you don’t want it to, it can’t,” he said, and subtly ground his cock against her body, disguising the bold sexual move as a dance move, as he pulled her hips closer to his and swayed back and forth, side to side, his heat searing through the thin black fabric of her dress.

Despite her best intentions, she leaned into his body, welcoming his touch, and opened her thighs to better accommodate him.

They swayed together to the music, their bodies pressed close, blending, merging, instinctively in tune with the other.

When the song began to end, she shoved away from him and broke out of the sensual spell they’d weaved.

She quickly left the floor, seeking out the ladies’ restroom. Blinded by tears at how easily he got around her, and weaving her way through the crowd, she was desperate to escape the tantalizing promise in his eyes.

Once in the restroom, Leila was thankful it was empty. She’d purposely chosen one that was far from the ballroom, figuring no one would come to it, and with the lateness of the hour, the likelihood was slim that a hotel guest would meander inside as well.

She needed to be alone.

What was wrong with her that just one touch from Brandan sent both her emotions and her sexuality into overdrive? When she was willing to, if not forgive, temporarily shove to the back of her mind the things he said that really pissed her off…and act like a cat in heat rubbing and grinding against him on a crowded dance floor.

Damn…

“Aunt Sadie, what in the world am I going to do?” she murmured out loud, staring at her reflection in the mirror.

She could almost hear her great-aunt respond:
Well, baby girl, you have to make a decision that you and only you can make. You need to decide what it is you want from this man, what he wants from you. You need to stop trying to analyze the whys of your feelings, and just feel, baby. Life is so short…

Leila squeezed her eyes shut tightly to erase the threat of tears that threatened to fall.

She knew it was all in her head, her conversations with Aunt Sadie. But sometimes, it felt so real…

She took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and washed her hands before she walked toward the door.

In the process of opening the door, her heart slammed against her chest when Brandan walked through the opening, determination settling across his face and in his stride.

“Y
ou can’t be in here! What’s wrong with you?” Leila demanded, but when he continued to advance toward her she quickly spun around and ran into one of the bathroom stalls and slammed it shut.

But not quickly enough.

He tore open the door, and with a screech, Leila backed up until the back of her knees hit the toilet.

She would have fallen had he not grasped her by the crook of the arm. With a thud and an “oomph” of breath escaping her lips, she was hauled against his chest.

With her mouth wide open she stared at him, fearing he’d plain lost his mind following her into the bathroom, and not sure what to say, completely speechless as his big body crowded her in the small stall.

He grasped her chin with his thumb and two fingers and lifted her face, forcing her to look directly into his eyes. As their gazes connected, she noted that within his light blue eyes was a strange gleam, one that scared her as much as it excited her.

He drew her closer. Yet didn’t say a word.

Leila was thrown off balance with his quiet, watchful stare.

Staring into his face, his eyes, she saw her own reflection stare back at her. His penetrating gaze seemed to look directly into her soul, as though he were seeking to discern her every thought, her every emotion.

At the thought, a new tingling awareness coursed through her body, sending chill bumps to curl around her spine. Cupping his palms around her cheeks, he dropped his mouth and covered her lips with his, giving soft, whispering caresses with his lips that soon turned to long, drugging, and devouring kisses.

“I told you not to come here, Leila,” he whispered hotly against her lips once he released her.

“And I told you, you don’t dictate—” her words were cut short when he lifted her easily, and hiked up her skirt to her waist before he wrapped her legs around his waist.

“No…what are you doing? I don’t want thi—” Her breathless protest was cut short when he slanted his lips over hers and turned, fumbling behind them to lock the door to the stall.

She heard the rasp of his zipper, and with his other hand he ripped her panties from her body and watched with dazed eyes as the flimsy scraps floated to the floor.

“Brandan…are you insane?” she whispered, her chest heaving as she turned her eyes back to his.

He nuzzled her neck, sending electric pulses of heat racing over her body. He licked her, grabbed the lobe of her ear between his teeth and pulled. One hand found and caressed her clit before he slid between her now-slick folds to slip inside her, and withdraw her own moisture to lubricate her.

Her body arched sharply, her back slammed against the door as he pressed his fingers deeper.

“Do you want it? Do you want me, Leila?” he asked.

She should have been angry.

She should have been afraid of the hot, intense look of determination brightening his light blue eyes, and struggled to get away from him.

She should have done and been all of those things.

But, she didn’t. She wasn’t.

Instead, she reached out for him, as desire and anticipation swirled around and over her, covering and submerging her until she felt weak and drowning in a sea of need.

A need only he could fulfill.

She wanted…needed him with a desire that was limitless, one that knew no boundaries, and one she wasn’t going to analyze…

With her breath coming out in a shallow rhythm, she nodded her head yes.

L
eila’s heart was slamming against her chest like a jackhammer.

Not waiting for her garage door to open, she slammed on the breaks, grabbed her purse, and after fumbling with the door, yanked the key out of the ignition and raced out of the car.

The very thought of the feral look in Brandan’s eyes sent fear mingled with insane lust through her veins.

She couldn’t believe what they had done.

Taking her in the women’s restroom, of all the places in the world, like a damn animal. And she’d let him do it. In the end, she’d all but begged him to.

On legs that were still wobbly, she raced toward her front door. After a few fumbles, she managed to find the right key to the door. Just as she was inserting the key, a low rumble alerted her that Brandan was hot on her heels.

After their torrid activity in the restroom, she’d gathered her things and fled, leaving him to run behind her to try and catch up.

She’d thrown her useless panties in her purse, and raced down the hall. At the door to the ballroom, she’d left a message telling Mateo she’d gotten a headache and was going home.

As she’d impatiently waited for the keys to her car, she’d sent a prayer heavenward in thanks when she saw someone reach out and pull Brandan’s arm, forcing him to stop and speak, giving her enough time to get into her vehicle and speed away, as though the hounds of hell were after her.

“Damn it!” she cursed, looking over her shoulder to see his low black Lamborghini slide next to her beat-up Jeep in her driveway. The powerful engine had barely been cut before he was out of the driver’s side.

Fumbling in earnest, she got the key in one lock and glanced over her shoulder to gauge if she had enough time to get the other two unlocked, when his tall, dark, menacing-looking form quickly advanced on her.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,
shit
!” she mumbled.

Her heart thudded, hiccupped, and stuttered.

She spun around and nearly wept in relief when she unlocked the last one all of three seconds before he made it to the door.

Once inside, she turned to slam the door shut.

But not fast enough.

One large black, ostrich-skin cowboy boot lodged between the door jam.

Leila chose not to wait around for him to catch her. She kicked off her heels and took off running.

Where the hell she was running to, she had no idea.

But the chase was on.

B
randan’s lips stretched into a predatory smile.

So she wanted to run, did she?

He took his time, gave her a head start.

Just to make it that much more—tasty—when he caught her.

As he walked through her home, he heard the echo of her racing steps in the dark, quiet loft.

He hoped that if she ever decided to leave the restaurant business, she wouldn’t turn to a life of crime. Her stealth abilities sucked.

As he walked around the loft, he headed straight to the back where he knew she’d be, and found her in the kitchen, paying no attention to his surroundings in his single-minded intent.

He turned in the darkened room and saw her staring at him, her nostrils flaring, chest heaving, her purse clutched against her chest as though it were some magical shield that could protect her from him.

“Come here.”

“Come here,” he said again.

Although he spoke in a low tone, the demand in his voice was subtle, and the look in his bright blue eyes promised a delicious retribution if she were to disobey his request.

But still…

“Make me.”

She had all of two seconds before he was on her.

“Look, what we did in that bathroom was crazy, and I don’t want a repeat performance, thank you!” She shoved against his chest with all the strength she had, but to no avail.

He picked her up as though she weighed no more than the purse she held clutched in her hands, a crazy glint in his light blue eyes, and carried her through the dark loft toward her bed, tossing her in the middle.

She’d only bounced twice on the bed before he was beside her, grasping both of her hands within one of his big ones and stretching them above her head.

Deftly he removed his belt and with the expertise of a master scout, secured her hands, murmuring against her ear. “Wouldn’t want you to try and escape before we can even begin.”

“What are you doing, you big brute? Let me go!” she panted, her breath coming out in harsh gasps when he tightened his impromptu restraints. “No damn
way
are you doing this, Brandan! I’m serious, let me up!”

He inserted one big hand inside the bodice of her dress, thumbing her extended nipple, before pulling the fabric to the side and capturing her turgid peak in his mouth and slowly releasing it.

Leila clamped her legs tight to prevent the cream from easing out of her vagina, valiantly ignoring her body’s reaction, and renewed her struggles in earnest.

He stood and swiftly shed his clothing, and in the dark, his long cock stood stiff and proudly erect, curving against his ripped abdomen, pulsing.

Her pussy, the traitorous hussy, clenched at the sight. She shut her eyes, her heart pounding.

She heard a telltale rip and reluctantly opened her eyes to see him sheathing his rod, his big hands almost obscene looking as they roughly smoothed the prophylactic over his straining dick in one quick movement.

He slanted his mouth over hers just as she was about to let him know what she really thought of his caveman, over-the-top antics, muffling the curses she was ready to let fly.

She fought him, kicking at any available body part she could reach, not really giving a damn if it was one he
might
need in the future, that is, if he ever wanted a family.

He rolled with her on her California king bed, their limbs tangled together until she was trapped beneath him, one of his hands grasped her bound wrists.

“If I let you go, do you promise to be a good girl?” he licked the shell of her ear, and brought the lobe into his mouth with his teeth before slowly releasing it.

“Answer my question. Will you be a good girl if I let you go?”

“I got your good girl, buddy,” she said and renewed her struggles in earnest. She just barely kept her laughter in check with their WWW moves on the bed.

“Be still and let me in this pussy,” he growled, and shoved his tongue deep inside her mouth. He loosened the belt, allowing her hands to be free. He moved down her body, shoved her skirt up her legs, and nosed aside her slick folds. When he thrust his tongue deep inside her, her body completely lifted away from the bed.

She grabbed his head and instead of shoving it away—as she should have—she pulled him deeper, tighter, closer. She threw back her head, her eyes rolling backwards as a tingling, almost burning sensation swept over her.

The pressure continued to build, until her limbs shook and her breath came out in harsh hiccups, as his long tongue rolled and frolicked inside her body.

“Stop, please, stop!” she begged, incoherent in her desires, instinctually seeking to back away from his hot strokes.

He anchored her to him, and tongued her in long, wicked glides. When he shoved two fingers inside her weeping core, she broke.

He wasted no time. As she was riding the wave of her orgasm, she felt his shaft glide on home, pushing past her swollen, passion-thickened vaginal lips, and press deep inside her core.

Leila arched her back sharply and dug the heels of her feet into the bed as he fed her his dick in tortuously slow increments, until he was all the way in.

“Please…wait,” she panted and growled low in her throat. But he ignored her plea, pushed her legs further apart, and pressed all the way home.

He didn’t stop until he was completely housed with her, didn’t pause until he had every inch inside, until her core was filled to the brim with his massive cock.

Brandan stared down at the sexually abandoned expression on Leila’s beautiful honey-colored face, saw the red tinge underscoring her skin, and grit his teeth, trying to give her enough time to accustom herself to him.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice rough, raw.

He remained still as he could inside her, but couldn’t prevent his hips from flexing, slowly grinding against her. He felt the minute her slick walls relaxed their death-grip on his cock, and with a sigh he felt her move against him.

She kept her eyes closed and gave a short nod of her head, her lips partially opened, small puffs of air escaping from between their full rims.

With a groan he grabbed onto her hips and began to thrust in shallow strokes into her.

She clenched around his shaft, milking and clenching him as he plunged into her sweet honeyed depths.

The walls of her pussy grabbed onto his cock desperately, causing flames to shoot electric fire directly from his balls and cock straight to his gut like a bolt of lightning.

She felt so damn good wrapped around him.

He hadn’t meant to fuck her in a damn bathroom stall, of all places.

Shit.

They’d been dancing around each other for so long. He couldn’t get a handle on their relationship—one minute they were burning hot, and the next they were at each other like two pit bulls…and when she’d defied him, coming to the fundraiser with Mateo, despite his threat of what would happen if she did, he’d seen red.

All rational thought had flown out the window, and his vision had become tunnel. He had to get at her, had to claim her as his. Nothing else had mattered.

She belonged with him for as long as it took for them both to get the other out of their system.

She was his, despite the anger and tension surrounding them, despite the fact that she denied this…this…connection between them.

He’d known they’d be amazing together. No way in hell it would be anything else, not the way she was built…the way she moved. But he hadn’t expected the emotional entanglement that had come along with it. He burned hot for her, constantly. She was on his mind every damn waking moment of the day. He thought about her constantly…he ran a hand down the swell of her hips, trailing down her smooth thighs.

Their chemistry was explosive, unlike anything he’d ever experienced with a woman, ever thought was even possible.

Brandan clenched his teeth together, and grunted deep in his throat when her inner walls pulsed on his dick with delicate yet robust ferocity.

And then she moved.

Slowly she ground against him in a sensual beat only she heard, and his strokes became stronger, his dick pressed deep into her body before stroking back out until the knob of his shaft sat at her slick entry, only to plunge back inside.

“Ummm.” The mewling sigh of pleasure only served to make him harder, and brought an answering growl from his own mouth as she met him stroke for stroke.

He thought his body would incinerate when she angled her hips so that he hit the walls of her pussy in such a way his dick felt as though a thousand tiny feathers were running along the length of it.

He’d never felt anything like it in his life. It was as though her pussy was alive.

Vibrant and unpredictable. Just like her.

“Damn!” he bit out the expletive.

He grabbed her hands in his and forced them high above her head.

Her eyes were like slits, nearly closed. Her pleasure, a tangible, breathing entity, made his cock thicken to painful proportions inside her. His heart beat heavily against his chest, and his balls tightened as he watched her panting breaths escape from between her pouty, juicy lips.

He picked up the tempo of his thrusts, driving inside her relentlessly, his body on fire, sweat dripping from him to her, mingling and running down the midline of her breasts, pressed together with her arms in position.

With every powerful jab inside her wet heat, her head bounced against the wall, against one of her thick pillows. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—stop the hard, pounding thrusts.

Being inside her was more exhilarating than anything he’d ever experienced.

As he dragged in and out of her heat, with each plunge her small, beautiful breasts jostled and swayed, gently slapping against each other. With a growl, he held her hands within one of his own, and moved the other down to nudge away her locs from the top of her breasts and grasp as much of one perfectly rounded mound that he could.

He molded and massaged the firm orb with strong fingers before he pinched and tugged on the long, dark wine-colored nipple. She gave a mewling, kittenish sound of pleasure, arching her back and pressing more of her breasts into his hand.

His breathing came out in harsh groans as he stared down at the picture she presented. Caught up in her pleasure, her beauty was mesmerizing.

Her head lay to the side of the pillow, her eyes were closed, and she had captured the bottom rim of her lush lower lip with her small top teeth. Her long locs were wildly spread, partially obscuring her breasts and stomach, providing her with an intimate blanket.

His nostrils flared. Her natural scent, mixed with the smell of sex, enveloped him, ensnaring him in her unique web.

Brandan bent down to inhale her, nuzzling aside several long locs to breathe in her intoxicating scent.

She mewled, rooting closer to him, and he leaned down to lick the side of her neck with the flat of his tongue.

“Delicious,” he murmured against her neck.

Her taste was sweet and salty. A hedonistic combination of milk chocolate and peppermint.

Brandan took his time playing with her breasts, swirling his tongue around the large chocolate disk of fat areole with the flat of his tongue, up and over her plump sweet nipple, before he pulled it deep inside his mouth while he rocked into her pussy.

“Brandan…” she cried in a strangled voice, her body surging up to meet his thrusts.

“Is it good to you, baby? Do you like what I’m doing to you? What we’re doing to each other?”

“Yes…yes,” she cried out.

“I need to come now,” the words were torn from his throat. “Are you ready?”

She closed her eyes and widened her legs, which allowed him to dig into her that much more. She rolled and twisted her hips, skewering his cock with abandon.

Brandan knew he couldn’t last much longer.

“
Now
,” he roared.

He reared his body up, away from hers. He firmly gripped her lush hips with his hands, digging his fingers into her flesh and furiously pumping inside of her, trying to hold on to the pleasure of her pussy as long as he could.

In hard strokes he rocked into her. Every thrust, every jab of his cock, he took them both that much closer to release, that much closer to rapture.

“Ooh,
God
!” she screamed. “Yes!”

He released his grip on her hips, grabbed both of her wrists again with one of his hands, and held them pinned above her head. He pumped into her furiously, delivering short staccato thrusts, jamming into her body, rocking them both into ecstasy, so harshly, her head easing toward the headboard so that he had to adjust her body, moving her back down toward the middle of the bed.

The only sounds in the room were her moaning wails, his heavy breathing, and the bed banging against the wall.

Brandan slammed his mouth over hers, swallowing her cries, and screwed into her with tight, controlled, circular motions, savage pleasure crawling through his gut with every clench of her pussy clamping his dick.

When he felt his balls swell, throb, as they tapped against her ass with each stroke, he knew it was time. He couldn’t hold back any longer. He was seconds from detonating.

He relented, gave up the battle.

Throwing his head back, he shut his eyes tight and growled deep from within his throat as all the blood rushed from his head with the power of his orgasm. He felt his cum spurt in painful streams from his body with the power of his release.