No Magic Moment (Secrets of Stone Book 4) (2 page)

But somewhere, somehow, I was going to have to do just that.

She’d put the secrets of her past into my care. It was about damn time I gave the same to her.

I’d start with giving her something more pleasant.

“’Dre,” I shouted. “Let’s roll it up, man.”

“Oh, my God,” Margaux exclaimed. As soon as I emerged, brandishing the gold band, she screamed, “Oh, my
God
!”

Before I could remind her I’d just been down a hole dripping with slime and runoff water, she mashed herself against me. As her body and lips molded to mine, the ecstasy of her yelped hummed through me. “I love you, Mr. Pearson,” she declared against my mouth.

I chuckled, ordering myself to enjoy the moment—and for the time being, leave my morose thoughts from the sewer
in
the sewer. “I love you too, sugar.”

“No shit!” As she slipped the ring back on, I literally watched her reconnect with that part of herself. Joy flowed from her, but it wasn’t the only thing. She was grounded again. Solid.

I didn’t know if that recognition was heartening, or disconcerting.

She muted the conflict by kissing me again.
Whoa
. This time, there was tongue—the kind of tongue I loved. Pulling at mine, as if needing my mouth deeper inside hers…usually her fun little way of asking to have
other
parts inside her, too. Sure enough, she emitted a kittenish mewl and waited for me to give back the Captain America version, before dragging away with a lust-heavy gaze.

“The knight who saved me.”

I smiled. “The princess who saved
me
.”

“Take me home, stud. This princess aches to reward your bravery.”

Andre had already pulled up in the BMW, waiting for us to finish the PDA as he yanked open the door to the back seat. With his other hand, he extended a small silo of sterile baby wipes. “Not saying you smell worse than a baby’s batty, but…”

I chuckled at his Jamaican slang. “But you’re
thinking
it.”

“Never said that, either.” His lips twitched as he kept the hand extended, waiting to take the cloths I scraped from fingers to elbows.

“Thanks, man.” I made sure our gazes met. “And not just for the clean-up.”

As I expected, the big guy just rolled his eyes. “Not a worry, brother.”

As soon as he shut the door and sealed us in, I swept toward Margaux in one lunge, lowering for another kiss. Now that we weren’t in the middle of the street, I attacked her with deeper passion…growing need.

“What if I don’t want to wait for my reward?”

Her eyes flared at the husk in my tone. As she nudged her head up and bit into my bottom lip, she replied, “You still smell, Sir Knight.”

“Exactly how you like me.”

“We’ll get the car dirty.”

“Exactly how you like it.”

I watched my edicts curl through her, making her writhe with renewed arousal. Yeah, I was in love with a woman who reveled in orgasms on silk sheets, beneath gold shower heads, and in marble elevators—but my princess also craved being taken like a peasant, her passion just accepted and enjoyed, as raw and raunchy as she could get it. Getting her to admit that? Another thing entirely—which was why I yanked the decision from her sometimes. Told her exactly how hard she’d take it from me, and love it as I did.

“You want me to get you dirty.” I hovered my mouth over hers, tempting but not giving, while pushing a hand beneath her dress and bra. We both moaned as the bud inside stiffened. “You want me to put my naughty hands all over you…to make your body as filthy as your mind.”

She cupped a hand to the back of my neck. Tried to drag me down for another kiss. I held fast where I was, pinching her nipple at the same time. “Say it, Margaux. Tell me you want it—and exactly how.”

Her throat vibrated with a little snarl. She knew the sound drove me to sexual insanity. I resisted the temptation, steeling my jaw.

“Say. It.”

I shoved her dress open wider, trailing my hand to her other breast. Her breath snagged as I rolled the erect nipple between my knuckles.

“I—want you,” she rasped. “Goddammit, I need you, Michael.” Her fingernails dug into my neck. “Satisfied?”

A rumble prowled up my throat. “Not yet. And you know why.”

Her free hand shot to the front of my slacks. She’d only worked the loop of my belt free before I caught her intention, then captured that hand. Slammed it to the cushion aside her head.

Her eyes flared. Her lips parted. Her hips bucked. “Oh, fuck!”

“You’re getting warmer.”

“Bastard.”

“Say it.”

“Fine.
Fine
. I want you to get me dirty. To put your grimy hands all over me. To defile me with your touch…make me hot for your nasty cock.”

As I growled approval, I was conscious of another sound blending with it: Andre’s low chuckle, fading as he disappeared behind the partition he’d activated. I grinned, knowing he’d return us to the El Cortez the long,
long
way. Margaux had all but ordered me to move into her condo in the swanky building after I’d broken my lease in a heartbroken stupor three months ago, thinking I could forget her by accepting a job offer in Atlanta.

Idiot
.

As if I’d ever forget this woman.

As if I ever wanted to.

I moved both hands to the front of her dress, opening it more. Let my smile widen as my stare fell to the front clasp on her bra. With a twist, I released it. With a snarl, I watched her breasts fall free.

“Holy fuck, how I love these tits.”

She returned my smile, purposely lifting her chest. Little minx. She knew exactly what I’d want to do then—what I
did
do. My head dipped, transfixed by the sight of her gorgeous, puckered fruit. I sucked one breast in, teething her flesh but licking her nipple. Margaux sighed, digging her hands into my hair, shooting a thousand points of heat down my spine, into my balls.

I should’ve known she wouldn’t be happy with just that. The woman was like an electron, never satisfied keeping still even when all but ordered to do so. With my attention focused on her incredible chest, she knew I wouldn’t be minding the store inside my pants. Sure enough, before I knew it, she was unzipping my fly and reaching in. With eager surety, she palmed my throbbing dick through my briefs.

“God
damn
.”

She blinked up at me, eyes glistening like huge emeralds, teeth sneaking over her lush bottom lip. “Is that a dirtball between your legs, or are you just happy to see me?”

I narrowed my gaze. “You sure you want to play it like that?”

Her smile deepened—as she scraped her nails lightly over my balls. “Maybe I do. I never liked playing in the dirt. The teeter-totter was more my thing. Up, down. Up, down…”

I laughed though I didn’t want to. The action sped up my heart rate, pulsing more blood into the arousal she played with such expertise. God
damn
. She knew me so well. Knew exactly where to stroke, to push, to tease. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

She licked her lips, all feigned innocence once more. “Was I missing out…not diving into the mud with the boys?”

I swallowed heavily. “The mud can be rough.”

“Hmmm. I think I can handle rough.”

“And brutal.”

“Good.”

I laughed again, this time on purpose—to distract her. Just as she tried to get a bigger handful of my sex, I dropped my grip to her waist and completely turned her over. With a gasp, she grabbed the top of the seat, her knees hiked on the cushion.

“How do you like the dirt so far, princess?”

The rise and fall of her shoulders gave me an immediate answer. Her breaths came faster as I shoved her skirt up and her panties down, fully exposing her to my gaze. Damn. And I’d thought her breasts were mesmerizing? I couldn’t stop caressing the milky globes of her backside, astonished and humbled that this breathtaking body was all mine.

“Ohhhh…” It spilled from her as I slid my fingers between her thighs, encountering the cream that always made me think of nectar from some far-off land. Perhaps another planet. From the start, that was how I’d seen Margaux Asher. Right, wrong, or completely lunatic, she was like a gift in my life from another galaxy—and I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to change the perspective.

“My treasure.” I rasped it as I palmed her mound, splaying fingers over the cropped curls that shielded her most sensitive flesh. “I need more of this.”

“Yes,” she whispered. The lights from the road played over her neck and breasts as she arched back for me. “Yes, Michael. Oh, God. Touch me there…please.”

I pressed myself over her, inhaling the spicy mix of her favorite perfume. “You mean right…
here
?” Her hood fell back, releasing her trembling nub, making us both shudder. “You want me to get your little clit dirty? Make it shiver and shake, so it opens you up to be fucked by my nasty cock?”

Her hands kneaded the cushion. Her muscles corded in her shoulders. She was illicit and rumpled, her dress bunched around her waist, her nudity flashing in and out of shadows as Andre drove us through the night. We sped along the freeway now, the car nearly alive around us, rocking from the force of the acceleration.

“I’m—I’m already open. Dammit, Michael. Give it to me!”

She finished it on a gasp as I leaned back, spreading her cheeks so I could gaze at the intimate lips, open and wet and perfect. “Look at this cunt,” I growled. “Even in the dark, I can see it glistening. So ready for me.”

“Yes.” She parted her thighs, stretching her lace panties to their limit between her knees. “Ready. Michael.
Michael
.”

I could resist no longer.

“Hang on, princess.”

With one push, I breached her entrance.

With the second, I lunged completely in.

She screamed. I groaned.

One long moment, savoring every clench and constriction around me—and the glimpse I surely had of heaven—before I began the steady, hard pace that matched the fast-lane thrum of the car. She didn’t want the granny lane tonight. She wanted the rush, the adrenaline…the dirt. It was my supreme pleasure to give her all three.

“Oh, hell,” she rasped. “So good. So good.”

I couldn’t have agreed more. She smelled so good. Felt so good. Fucked so good. I told her so by grabbing her nape with my teeth, digging in just enough to zap down to her clit. As that wet bundle quivered beneath my fingers, I knew it had worked.

“Rub yourself, sugar. Put your fingers right here, and make yourself dirtier for me.”

She complied without question. Her strokes pushed her folds against my shaft, tightening her body’s grip on my erection, dragging a taut moan from the depths of my balls.

“Dear God, woman. I need to fuck you hard.”

She abandoned her masturbation in order to grip the cushion with both hands again—bracing for my deeper, harder plunges. “Yes.”

“And you need to take it.”

“
Yes
.”

I reared back, framing her hips with my hands. Slammed into her with the full force of my lust, and need. Rejoiced as she squeezed around me, tighter then tighter still, finally pulsing with the violence of her release. A string of profanity tumbled out of her, high and ragged and unthinking, filling my cock and stretching my control. Still, I wasn’t done with her. No way. I needed more. Needed to drain everything from her, as she’d completely consumed me.

She’d barely come down from that wave when I reached in, massaging the button of her desire all over again.

“Michael. Oh my God. I can’t. Not so fast—”

“You can.” I pinched her stiff flesh, tearing a full scream from her. “You
will
.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Ohhhh, fuck!”

“That’s it.” I ground into her, thrusting as deep as I could, reveling in the crush of her sex around mine. “My darling, dirty girl. Do it for me again, Margaux. Let me feel you come. Now.
Now
!”

Her whole body clenched. Her head fell back, a soundless shriek spilling from her parted lips. Her hips pumped back into mine, milking me with her orgasm, all but demanding that I follow her over into the ecstasy.

I sure as hell did.

Pressure surged. Exploded. The world careened so hard, I almost questioned if Andre had rolled the car. I fell over her, sinking teeth into her shoulder blade as I emptied my essence into her hot, perfect channel. The shudders of her passion urged me on, dragging more and more come from me, bringing on a sarcastic wondering about having any swimmers left to give her, ever. Sure, we weren’t concerned about condoms since Margaux started on birth control pills, but that didn’t mean I didn’t entertain dreams of it being different one day—of coming inside her so our child would grow from that fire. A little girl with all the beauty and intensity of her mother…

I forced the thought back while ordering my body under control. But the dream was persistent, and it grew every day.

I wanted a family with this woman.

I wanted a life with this woman.

I needed to be with this woman every day for the rest of my life.

Springing the news on
her
? Different story.
Much
different.

One step at a time, man. It’s not like you can just handcuff her down and make her listen.

Or could I?

Margaux

“D
o I even
want to know what this is for?”

My hulk of a driver—and now, undoubtedly, best go-to guy on the planet—lugged the mid-century schoolroom desk and attached chair into the middle of my condo’s living room. It was perfect, the centerpiece of my grand scheme to help my man celebrate his first day of professional freedom from my mother. Coincidentally, it was also the fulfillment of a secret fantasy we’d confessed to each other after he’d toured me through the offices of the Aequitas firm last month, when he was still considering their obscenely generous offer to come on board their elite team, representing some of the biggest names in international business.

Aequitas occupied a building in the East Village that had been lovingly restored from its shoe factory beginnings—already a plus—but the firm’s elegant take on exposed brick and wood had won me over. That, and the fact that after Michael explained that the desk in his future office was a refurbished piece from a girls’ private school…the headmaster’s himself, actually…well, it hadn’t taken much imagination—his
or
mine—to make the jump from there.