Read Undercover Seduction Online
Authors: Gemma Hart
Undercover Seduction (19 page)
“How about you stay in your seat and try to be quiet for five minutes,” Marco said, unable to help himself from grinning at his brother. “You’ve been yammering on for the last hour all by yourself.”
“Some say I’m a gifted conversationalist,” Jamie sniffed in mock offense.
“And others would say you’re taking advantage of the deaf,” Marco returned.
I snorted in my wine glass, spurting wine all over.
“Oh so you’ll snort wine but you won’t eat some stinky cheese?” Jamie said, raising a brow.
I burst out laughing, raising a hand in defeat. “Alright, alright! I concede. You are all superior to me!”
And with much ribbing, we slowly headed back towards our beautiful and quaint hotel, the city lights twinkling above us.
With Jamie safely seen back to his room, Marco and I retired to our own. I threw myself on our plush bed. Marco had planned very carefully. Through his detailed planning and maneuvering, we could live happily and comfortably in Europe for the rest of our lives.
Our
lives.
I looked over and saw Marco standing at the edge of the bed, admiring me. We were together and we had the rest of our lives to enjoy that fact. I smiled at him.
“This still feels like a dream,” I said.
The corner of his lips curled. “I know,” he agreed. He leaned down on the bed, lying next to me. He wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me even more snugly against him. “But it’s the absolute best dream.”
I raised my head and stared up at the man that I loved. I couldn’t have agreed more.
The absolute best.
And the dream only got better as Marco’s lips descended on mine. In a slow, pulsing kiss, he pulled my lips into him. His tongue swept and explored the inside of me. He took away my breath, literally. He kissed me deeply, warmly, powerfully. It was a kiss that let me know that I was his and he was mine and that was all there was in this universe.
Without hurry, we undressed each other, letting our hands slide over each other’s body in a sensuous study. It was as if knowing that we were now free and safe, we could truly take the time to linger and tease each other.
Marco lowered his head, kissing his way down my neck and chest towards my breasts. He squeezed each full mound, giving the nipples short, sharp bites that sent electric bolts straight to my pussy. I moaned and arched, wanting more.
His large hand slid down the length of me till his fingers met my wet warmth. Without hesitation, he gave my swollen folds a good hard stroke. I gave a guttural groan, so hungry for his touch. His fingers teased and tormented me. He circled my clit and stroked my sensitive cleft. He brought me again and again to the peak of release only to pull back and enjoy my whining cries.
Finally, I reached up and pulled him down for a kiss. As our tongues met and slid against each other, I flipped myself over till I was leaning over him.
“Two can play at that game,” I said firmly.
Marco’s eyes glinted in amusement like two dark obsidian opals.
I wedged myself between his legs and lowered my mouth onto his thick and ready cock. I swirled my tongue around the sensitive head, feeling him twitch against me.
In one smooth motion, I mouthed him completely, taking in as much of him as possible.
“Oh fuck,” he groaned, making me wriggle in pleasure. He wasn’t the only one who could tease. And I would show him that.
I gave long lingering swiped down the underside of his cock, making sure to wrap a hand around the base and continue a movement of friction. I mouthed and teased and licked and swirled all over him till his thighs felt like steel beams.
Finally a powerful arm grabbed me around the waist and threw me back onto the bed. “That was
not
a proportionate response,” he said, his face darkened with powerful lust and arousal. “You were a lot worse than I was.”
I grinned, unrepentant. “Was I?” I asked innocently.
His eyes darkened. “You’ll be paying for that,” he promised.
And I did. In one powerful thrust, he filled me with his thick and throbbing cock, making me arch back in utter satisfaction. With powerful motions, he plunged into me, every stroke deeper and harder than the last.
I felt every inch of him sliding and stretching into me. Wave after wave of pleasure exploded over me, leaving me twitching and shaking for release. Marco leaned down and roughly crushed his lips to mine as he thrust in hard again, hitting me just where I needed it.
My scream of release was muffled against his lips as I cried and cried out in the racking pleasures of my body. Nerve endings fired from all ends as heavy doses of ecstasy bloomed within me.
Marco continued to thrust into me as my pussy milked every last tremor. Finally his own roar of satisfaction accompanied mine as he found his release.
Pulling me into his arms and gathering me close, we collapsed together in bed.
Our panting breaths and pulsing hearts beat as one. I felt Marco press his lips to the back of my head.
“Consider that a lesson,” he said, out of breath.
I grinned and turned around in his arms so I could face him. “The first of many, I hope?”
“The first of forever,” he assured me.
And we fell asleep, warm and safe in each other’s embrace.
The End
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This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Any similarities to events or situations is also coincidental.
© 2015 Gemma Hart
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Dedication
It’s a little scary to write from your heart and to put it out there.
Thank you to everyone who reads my heart’s imagination.
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Table of Content
“Definitely a drifter,” Malcolm said with confidence as he polished a glass. “A serial killer drifter who’s having his morning coffee before he serially kills again along his drifter way.”
Kat looked at her younger brother dryly. “Wow,” she said. “Care to be a bit more dramatic?”
Malcolm shrugged his thin shoulders. Malcolm had always been skinny. Actually both of Kat’s brothers had always been skinny. But Malcolm was the taller of the two. He had been teased as a kid, being called names like beanpole and toothpick. He was tall and gangly with long arms and legs that he had never seemed to gain complete control over.
His lack of grace had eliminated him from sports even though he was tall enough to play most anything. With his thick black rimmed glasses and broad but bony shoulders, Malcolm looked exactly like what he was—a bookish but lovably geeky brother.
Taking no pains to hide his staring, Malcolm looked over at the customer at table six. Although Kat was trying to be more subtle about it, she was having a hard time herself trying not to stare.
The man did look peculiar.
He was tall, taller than Malcolm and Malcolm stood at 6’1. He had rough stubble that shadowed his rugged jawline. He wore a heavy olive canvas jacket that looked well worn and worn out jeans. His black boots were nearly gray in some areas, showing just how much love they had received from their owner. He had a charcoal gray beanie on that hid most of what looked like chestnut colored hair. And he kept his eyes down on his coffee.
That had been all he had ordered. As soon as she had sat him down at his table, he had asked for black coffee and a spoon and that was it.
Some of the regulars in the diner were also having a hard time not staring. This was a small town and any newcomer was news but any
peculiar
newcomer was a spectacle.
And it was no wonder. This man did have a quiet draw to him. Although it was clear he wanted to just blend into the background of the diner, there was something potent about him that kept everyone looking over his way.
“Well,” Malcolm thought aloud as he polished the same glass over and over again. “I suppose he could be a vagrant. A thieving vagrant who sneaks into towns and steals things at night and then disappears by day before anyone can catch him.”
Kat gave her brother a pointed look. “‘A thieving vagrant who disappears by day before anyone can catch him?’” she repeated, staring up at him like he had completely lost his mind.
Malcolm nodded with wide eyes, mistaking her incredulity for enthusiasm.
She smacked his shoulder, the highest part of him she could reach. “What era are we living in? The 19
th
century? Who says ‘vagrant’ anymore?” Kat rolled her eyes. “And I’d love to see anyone, vagrant or not, not get caught stealing a
town’s
worth of stolen property. Malcolm, whatever books you’ve gotten into now, you need to take a break.”
She took out the glass from his hands before he wore it out and replaced it with another one. “
I
see a man who looks like he just needs a quiet moment to himself,” she said. And it was true. If the man looked any harder at his coffee, he’d fall into it.
Kat stacked away the cleaned and polished glasses on the rack below the soda machine.
“Have you ever thought about giving Harry Potter a try?” she said, smiling to herself as she neatly arranged the glasses.
Her nineteen year old brother sighed above her. Kat didn’t have to see it to know he was rolling his eyes at her.
“Fine then,” he said. “He’s a Death Eater in hiding and he’s waiting for the Dark Lord to—”
“Can I have a refill on my soda?”
Kat stood up and slapped her dishtowel against Malcolm who laughed before she headed over to the end of the bar to refill Ernie’s soda.
Ernie, owner of Bald and Tired, the local mechanics shop smiled at her as she refilled his coke. He leaned in over his nearly empty plate of chicken fried steak and murmured confidentially, “Looks like we got ourselves a visitor, eh?” He made a weird wrinkle with his brow towards the stranger at table six.
“We sure do,” Kat said. “Looks like he’s enjoying the nice day.” She smiled at Ernie, who was as bald and often tired looking like the tires he fixed, before walking away. She didn’t want to engage in gossip about the stranger. That wasn’t polite. Especially since the man clearly wanted to be left alone.
She went back and grabbed the coffee pot and did her rounds of refilling any empty cups and sharing a word or two of greeting or gossip with the customers. She had grown up nearly her entire life around these faces. They were as much her family as her own brothers.
Finally, she reached table six.
“More coffee?” Kat asked cheerfully, smiling even though the man wasn’t looking at her.
The man didn’t say anything. She wondered if he hadn’t heard her. She bent over a little and said again, “Coffee?”
He didn’t even stir. A little perplexed but not wanting to disturb someone who clearly was in his own space, she gave up and walked away.
But before she was even two steps away, a large hand shot out and grabbed her left wrist. Kat gasped out of surprise and stared down at the large and callused hand that held onto her. Her eyes slowly traveled down the arm to the owner.
The mysterious man was looking straight up at her.
Oh they’re green
, she thought dumbly as she stared into the deepest green eyes she had ever seen in her life. They were a dark, rich color that seemed to be able to emote all the things the man couldn’t say himself.
Kat saw stiffness, exhaustion, and strength in the darker depths of his eyes but they were all covered by a sheen of pain. His green eyes, surrounded by dark lashes and set above a straight nose and a chiseled jaw, made her realize just how startlingly attractive he was. The realization shot through her like a hot electric bolt.
“Miss,” he said, his voice a little husky. He cleared his throat and started again. “Miss,” he said again. “I hope this doesn’t come out wrong but…would you mind staying for a bit?”
Kat furrowed her brows, confused.
“Staying?” she asked.
“And talking,” he added. “You know, a conversation.”
She stared at the man. He spoke in a strained voice, as if it physically hurt him to ask a favor.
Kat looked over her shoulder quickly and saw everyone in the diner staring openly their way. This was the first time this strange newcomer had spoken and they were dying to hear what else he would say. She saw Malcolm staring at her with bulging eyes.
Malcolm shook his head and drew a finger across his neck.
Serial drifting vagrant Death Eater, sis! Don’t talk to him! Avada Kedavra! Avada goddamn Kedavra!
“Well,” Kat started, very aware that his hand was still wrapped around her wrist. Her arm looked like a tiny twig in his large grasp. “I’m the only waitress on the clock right now….”
The man immediately let go of her, as if scalded by her words. “Of course,” he mumbled, looking back down at his cup. “I’m sorry.”
It was irrational but Kat immediately regretted the loss of his touch against her skin. Her wrist felt cold without his hand around it.
She saw Malcolm breathe a sigh of relief. He pointed a finger at her and then pointed to the space in front of him, his lips in a tight line.
Get back here, missy.
She saw the other diners still staring at the man, some of them with absolutely no pretense as they openly watched him sitting in his booth.
There had been something in the man’s voice. It had been a desperate plea, his request. He had asked because he needed something more than conversation. She could tell that. But what else more he needed—now that was the mystery.
But she had heard the pain in his voice. She had seen it in his eyes. And it was hard to walk away, having heard and seen all that.
Kat took a seat opposite of him, decidedly setting the coffee pot down on the table. The man’s head jerked up in surprise, his eyes wide as he watched Kat get settled in her seat.
She smiled. “I’m the only waitress,” she said, “but it’s a slow afternoon. I don’t think a few minutes would really hurt.”
For the first time, a small light lit up the man’s incredible eyes. She saw a ghost of a smile twitch at his lips. “They’ll probably be too busy watching us anyway, right?” he said.
Easy laughter bubbled up in her. Kat leaned forward and said in a conspiratorial whisper, “I think you’re right about that.”