Flash Burned (13 page)

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Authors: Calista Fox

BOOK: Flash Burned
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Excitement shot down my spine. I ached for him, deep in my core. Especially as he resumed the flicking of his tongue over that swollen knot of nerves between my legs. He slipped two fingers inside me, pumping vigorously.

“Yes,” I murmured, the pressure and heat building. “God, that's just …
so
good.”

He always took me to soaring heights. No exception tonight, but I was fairly certain the intensity of the pleasure that currently gripped me had more to do with the fact that I was now his wife.

For all the fear I'd had of marriage, all I could focus on was the beauty of it. The fact that we belonged solely to each other.

As that thought settled enticingly in my mind, Dane gently suckled my clit, his fingers pumped quicker, and I came apart at the seams, crying out his name as the fiery sensations raged through me.

I clung to the rush, the high, as he remained wedged between my parted thighs. He kissed my inner leg again, then worked his way up, over my stomach and rib cage, to my breasts. His tongue curled around my hard nipple, toying with it. Then he drew the pebbled peak into his mouth. I gasped, the sensation sizzling, keeping my blood simmering. Exhilaration echoed through me—I was convinced I experienced the longest orgasm imaginable as my inner walls still clutched his fingers, savoring the last vestiges of a release that went on and on.

Despite the vibrant climax, I still wanted more. Still needed more. As though I hadn't relinquished even half of the delicious tension he evoked.

My head fell forward. “Dane,” I whispered against his hair as he continued to tease my nipple. Then the other. I writhed restlessly against him. “I want you inside me.”

He kissed the tops of my breasts, my neck. “Whatever you want, baby.”

I tried really hard to keep my nails from biting into his skin as I gripped his bulging biceps and hauled him up. His hands clasped my waist and he moved me toward the center of the bed. His eyes shimmered with lust and a dark yearning that made my pussy throb.

“I need to feel you,” I told him. “All of you. Fuck me. Hard.”

“My sexy, sinful Ari.” He kissed me in his searing way, commanding all of my senses, making me burn for him.

Hooking his powerful forearm along the underside of my knee, he lifted my leg so that the back pressed to his chest. The tip of his cock teased my opening for several tantalizing seconds before he sank into me, making me cry out once more.

He only partially hovered over me, propped on one elbow. Mostly, his weight bore down on me, and it felt heavenly. His heat and scent surrounded me. My leg remained sandwiched between his chest and mine, my knee crooking over his broad shoulder. The position opened me fully to him and he moved inside me with long, full strokes that pushed deep.

All hot and bothered now, I said, “Do this to me every night.”

He chuckled, though it came out a bit strained from the effort he exerted in getting me off. “You're insatiable.”

“Who would have thought? I just needed the right partner.”

Another scorching kiss had me climbing quickly to that pinnacle I so loved. He palmed my ass cheek and lifted me slightly off the mattress as he plunged deeper.

“Yes,” I moaned. “Oh, God, yes. Fuck me, Dane. Make me come.”

He worked me fervently, and my raised hips met his smooth, solid thrusts. Our breathing escalated, filling the quiet room. My heart thundered. My skin tingled.

I loved how he possessed me, owned every inch of me. He knew instinctively what I needed and gave it to me. Over and over.

Staring into my eyes, he said, “You'll always belong only to me.”

“Yes.”

“You are
everything
to me, Ari.”

Emotion welled in my throat. Desire surged through me. He pumped faster, harder, and all the feelings inside me collided and erupted.

One word fell from my lips as I came.

“Dane!”

As I shattered so, too, did he.

It was perfect.

 

chapter 7

I found it impossible to hide my wedding bracelet at work, even with long sleeves from a blouse or suit jacket. The diamonds sparkled vibrantly with just the tiniest hint of light. It caught everyone's eye. So I had to lie and tell them I'd splurged with my impending bonus and that they weren't real diamonds. I wasn't wholly convinced the fabrication flew, because it only caused people to inspect the bracelet more closely and mutter, “Hmm.”

While I wasn't keen on the scrutiny, I only took the gorgeous piece of jewelry off in the shower and before bed, so I didn't scratch the hell out of Dane with it—my nails did that plenty when he made love to me.

Following the success of the Thanksgiving events, everyone at the hotel put their heart and soul into the transformation of the Lux from fall to Christmas decorations. Enormous crates filled with wreaths, lights, garland, and ornaments were scattered everywhere, transported around the property via forklifts and extended-bed golf and other carts. I scrambled to stay on top of the placement of every single item. Studied each decoration hung to make sure it was perfect—the right location, the right angle, the right look.

The Engineering/Electrical staff grumbled over my insistence that they check each strand of twinkle lights—that meant jiggling every single bulb to make sure it wasn't loose—before they were wrapped around the thick trunks of the sycamores and aspens lining the drive into the hotel, the pines near the entrance, the various optimal objects in the courtyard and gardens out back, and the rounded second-story terrace that overlooked them.

But above the tedious, an air of excitement permeated the hotel and the grounds.

There was much to do in the three weeks before our first pre-launch event, which was to be our hosted media night. The days flew by in exhaustive blocks of fourteen or sixteen hours at the Lux, and not much sleep in between.

Dane urged me to take the pace a bit slower, but that was impossible, not just because my to-do list was still a mile long but also because I was beyond excited. It was difficult to shut down my mind. I reverted to the wedding planner's curse of waking up ten times a night to run through mental checklists. Typically, Dane was lying in bed next to me, his fingers clicking softly on the keyboard of his laptop.

Not so a week prior to our first big event.

I found him on the sofa in front of the fireplace in our bedroom, speaking quietly into his phone. I only caught a few seconds of his conversation before he disconnected the call and dropped the cell on the end table next to him.

Curling on the cushion beside him, I asked, “Talking with Nikolai in Russia again?”

“No, Mikaela,” he said. “She's back from Italy. Her zoning issues have been cleared up and she's ready to open shop in Old Town.”

“Thanks to you?”

“And Anthony Delfino. He has friends in all the right places in Scottsdale.”

My mind worked quick on this one. “That was what the meeting was all about at the second wedding reception for Meg and Sean? The one Mr. Delfino hosted at his home in Scottsdale when they returned from their honeymoon?” I recalled that evening, when Dane's mentor and business partner, Ethan Evans, had whisked Dane away to wrap up some mysterious business with Anthony Delfino.

“Yes,” Dane said. “I cashed in a few favors to help her out.”

“Do you always help her out?” I couldn't resist asking.

He slid a glance my way. “She's been a friend since I've had a memory, Ari. If she needs me—”

“Yeah, but … her father is an ambassador. Can't Daddy take care of her roadblocks?”

Dane's head dipped and he kissed the tip of my nose. “Baby, this is no big deal. And besides … wouldn't you want me to help someone in need, if I could?”

Another technicality he had me on. He'd given Kyle a job, after all. Had written a huge check to get my mother off my back—and save my dad's reputation. I could only imagine the other countless times Dane had come to someone's aid. Hell, he'd rescued me from numerous threats that went well beyond my mother.

“I concede,” I said on a yawn.

“When it comes to Mikaela,” he whispered against my hair, “you have nothing to worry about, Mrs. Bax.” He kissed the top of my head.

I grinned. And fell asleep while snuggled alongside him.

*   *   *

Unfortunately, my contentment wasn't meant to be.

As I double-checked invoices to sign off on before sending them to Accounting for payment processing, there was a knock on my opened office door.

“Season's Greetings!”

The very distinct, sensual Italian accent made my head snap up from my laptop.

There, in my doorway, stood Heidi Klum.

Well, Mikaela Madsen, but whatever. Same, same.

She smiled brightly, all pearly white teeth and just so striking from head to toe, I could see why every man in her life fell so easily at her feet, eager to do her bidding. I'd probably fall, too, if I possessed the right equipment and the little head/big head mentality.

“Hey,” I said as I closed the top of my computer and gestured with my fingers for her to enter. “Nice to see you.”

“It's been much too long, darling.”

I was thrown by the accent—Mikaela was American. I surmised all the time she spent with Fabrizio in his village outside of Florence lent to her international mystique. Still, the accent seemed so out of place. Yet chances were good I was the only one who noticed.

She crossed the vast space I occupied on the fourth floor of 10,000 Lux and set an elegant, elaborately designed gift bag on my desk.

I stood and came around to meet her for the double-cheek air-kiss thing she liked to do.

She studied me a moment, then said, “You look fabulous. Did you do something different with your hair?”

“Just pulled it up,” I commented. It was all meticulously styled, every strand in its proper place. While Mikaela's was the perfectly mussed high ponytail only some women could achieve. That back-combed look that made it seem as though she'd merely rolled out of bed and wrapped a few strands of long hair around the thick mass to contain it, but which likely took a good hour to get just the right tousled look. A style I could never pull off.

“So, you're back from Italy,” I mused, hoping my tone sounded neutral. Not bitchy. Not too nice. Just … indifferent. Like hers. “I hear you're good to go on the shop in Old Town.”

“Everything's being delivered in the next few weeks to set up, and our first shipment is due any day after that. Every variety of gourmet olives, meats and cheeses, oils, and the absolute best-of-the-best Italian wines—all imported from Brizio's village. Italy on Your Doorstep … That's our name.”

“Very nice.”

“I brought you samples,” she said, indicating the bag with one slender, beautifully manicured hand. “I'm dying to get a review from you. Dane says you're a fantastic cook.”

I gave her a curious look. Had he told her about us? Did she know we were married?

I mentally shook my head. No. He'd been specific about the small circle we kept our secret within. I couldn't believe he'd spill to Mikaela without telling me.

So I merely played along.

“I've been learning from the chefs downstairs.”

“Smart girl. They're very talented. And you know what they say about the way to a man's heart.…” She gave me a coy look, then added, “You do know Dane's favorite dish is duck with glazed carrots and zucchini salad, right? I picked up a great recipe in Paris while I was at Le Cordon Bleu for a time.”

I fought the
of course you did
bubbling up in my throat. Not only was she way too touchy-feely when with Dane, but she had mad skills in the kitchen as well?
And
knew his preferred meal—while I did not.

“I'm sure Chef D'Angelo has it perfected for Dane,” I merely commented.

“Without a doubt. They've been together forever. Dane only shares tidbits like that with people who've been in his life for a long time. In my case, since we were toddlers. Amano drove the both of us to and from the private schools we attended and all the activities, like dances. Even the prom.”

I assured myself it didn't matter that this woman had shared all the classic adolescent rites of passion with my husband. Because he was mine now.

But her words still stung. Maybe if she weren't so statuesque, worldly, and sophisticated I might not be so bothered that she remained a permanent fixture in Dane's life. Yet she
was
all those things—and more—and that set me on-edge.

“Well, it was nice to see you again,” I told her as I walked toward my door, hoping she'd follow. “Thanks so much for the treats. I look forward to sampling them.”

“And you must stop by the tasting room when we're open,” she insisted.

I caught on very quickly that she specifically said
you,
not
you and Dane
.

Interesting.

Still not wanting to give anything away, I nodded in agreement, refraining from mentioning that my husband and I would certainly do that. Plus, I wasn't the petty type. Not horribly insecure when it came to Dane's affection, either. He'd married
me,
after all.

Perhaps it was just that she seemed to have some sort of claim over him, since they'd grown up together, and she always turned to him when she needed something.

Thankfully, she got the hint and finally whirled around on her ridiculously tall stilettos and strolled out the door, with a chic, “Ciao!” and a waggle of her long fingers.

It did not go unnoticed by me that she headed in the opposite direction of the bank of elevators—toward Dane's office suite.

I seethed.

So, okay. Maybe I
was
a tad jealous.…

*   *   *

Preparations at the Lux progressed nicely. Though Dane's anticipation and enthusiasm over the launch escalated, I sensed his tension around the periphery. Understandable, but I tried to assure him that everything had fallen beautifully into place, as I did one more time at two in the morning the day of our media gala.

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