Perfecting the Odds (25 page)

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Authors: Brenna St. Clare

BOOK: Perfecting the Odds
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“Not particularly.”
Please fucking stop
, he wanted to yell, but he wouldn’t dare allow his anger to flare.  His saw himself on the edge of lava-spewing volcano, his toes curling over the mouth of the crest. This could be it. His whole world could burst into flames if she pressed the issue.

And in the same flat tone she
’d asked the previous questions, she posed a string words that pierced his core. “I see. So, I can share my pain and fears with you, but you can’t do the same?” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Her question was as much a risk as his answer. But she was much stronger than he would ever be.


Karis, I want to share everything with you. There’s just nothing more to share. He battled for months. He died. I helped my mom and sisters. It was a shitty time but nothing compared to yours.” Fuck. Now he was deflecting. She was an intelligent woman. No doubt she would call him out on it. She would ask him all the questions any friend would. And he would answer those questions like a fucking fraud. 

She placed her palms on the table and nodded
before rising. “Dinner was delicious. Since you prepared the meal, please allow me to clean up?” Karis began clearing the table, moving within his kitchen as if it were hers. Michael stared at her, his eyes following her every move and searching for some indication of her mood. She cleared the dishes. She didn’t seem angry. In fact, it was as if she merely needed an escape from their conversation. How long could he avoid the bomb that could detonate their lives together?

“Why ar
e you staring at me, Michael,” she asked as she loaded the dishwasher. She looked over her shoulder to receive his answer.

He gave her his most genuine, soulful smile he could muster. “Because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Her face flushed a beautiful rosy pink before she wrinkled her nose. “You just wait, Michael. In a few years, I’ll be older and wrinkly and flabbier than I am now. You won’t think so then.”

T
his woman had no idea how beautiful she was. How could a man not find that a fucking dream? And he would be the only man to remind her of how beautiful she was, and that thought made him harder than a rock.


I’ll never stop thinking you’re the sexiest, most intelligent, smart-mouthed woman I’ve ever met.”

“Smart-mouthed!
” She mistakenly pouted, and his eyes darted to her lips. Any residual blood pumped to his already throbbing dick. Fuck, he couldn’t wait to sink deep into her snug, wet pussy, show her how beautiful she was, how much he desired her. He would possess her. He stood and stepped toward the island, and she took a step backward, eyeing the countertop.
Isn’t that cute
, he thought.
She thinks she can out maneuver me.
Her eyes widened, realizing what she’d done.

“Michael
Finn, you’re stalking me again.”

He could see her breath quicken and took full advantage. “
Last week you told me you thought it was sexy. Am I not sexy enough?” Michael played her card and pouted as he continued his path toward her, placing his hands on the island.

***

“Enough?” She snorted.  “Sexy doesn’t do you justice, Michael. That’s my whole frickin’ dilemma,” she brazenly admitted. He flashed her
that
smile. The smile that would make any woman drop her pants just so he’d keep it on his face and press it shamelessly to her pussy.  “Jeez. Please stop. You make me—.” She stopped and stared at Michael, gripping the countertop. Her body hummed under his predatory stance, despite her anxiety. She’d had days to think, fantasize, pine after his mouth, his hands, that ridiculously frightening organ between his legs. When he looked at her that way, his eyes mirrored what she now knew his hands and mouth could do. Her entire body quivered with excitement, throbbing in every area that made her female. She shifted her legs to try and smother the hot, damp ache.

“I know that look, sweetheart. You do know I could just pull you across this counter
right?”

She jerked backward, placing her hands behind her on the adjacent counter. She inched toward the right. He matched her one step to the right.
“What look? I don’t make a look.”

His eyes
tethered her to him. “You make many looks, and I love all of them, especially the ones you make when you come.” Before she could retort, he was around the island and claiming her mouth with a crushing force. She could taste the tanginess of wine, and she swore she was now drunk with it. Their bodies locked, the heat radiated, melding them from head to toe. Three years’ worth of hunger emitted from their bodies. And just as quickly as he grabbed her, he released her, leaving her breathless and softly whimpering.

Karis
shook her head and gripped the counter, trying to steady her legs. “I don’t want to stop myself when you do that, Michael,” she panted out.

“Then don’t”

“I owe you, Michael.”

“You don’t owe me anything, sweetheart,” he said and brushed his lips along her neck.

“I owe you pleasure,” she whispered.

“You please me by just being,
Karis.” She rolled her eyes as they lined with tears. He was just so sweet. So damn good. She pulled him down, tracing his lips with her tongue, swirling it within his mouth. Her hands were slowly making their way over his shoulders, down his arms, and began stroking his back in rhythm with her tongue. Her initiative had him shuddering. She nipped his bottom lip and trailed kisses and bites along his jaw, his earlobe, and down his neck. His low rumbling growl had her hungry for more of him—his taste, his hard body, his delicious, tropical scent. Still pressing kisses and licks to his neck, she yanked his shirt from his pants and began stroking his firm, rippling back. She pressed her lips just below his ear.


I thought about touching you like this all week,” she murmured. He let out a harsh breath and squeezed his fingertips into her hips so hard, she swore he wouldn’t allow her to go on much longer. His erection taunted her to give up and allow him to take over.


No, Michael. You witnessed my baking talent already, but I have a few more,” she whispered.

She
pulled back from his neck, lifted his shirt over his head and allowed her eyes to follow the path already set with her hands.


Jesus, never in all my life—.” Simply, he was a feast for the eyes, wide chest, hard pectorals, ridged abdomen. And as if he were her last meal, she was famished. His muscles rippled and twitched against her wandering fingers. She pressed her body against his, delighting in his hard length against her belly. She still couldn’t believe how his body reacted to her.

She broke her stream of thoughts and began stroking his arms as she kissed his neck,
across his collarbone. Nibbling his earlobe, she whispered, “Ease down, Michael. If I’m going to have bruises, I don’t want them there.”

He
released her hips and groaned as she skimmed her fingers along the top of his jeans. She trailed kisses down his chest and traced his zipper up and down with her fingers. His hard male heat pulsed against her hand.  

“Enough
,” he growled, raspy and breathless. She gasped as he lifted her into his arms. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she continued to feast on his neck until he stood her in front of his massive bed. 

She could feel his
warm breath on her cheek as he thumbed the two straps off her shoulders allowing her dress to fall to her hips. He nudged it down, and it pooled at her feet. He stepped back and when she met his eyes, her breath caught. No man had ever looked at her with that much raw passion, his jaw tense, his hands fisted. She reached behind her back to unclasp her bra.

“Stop,
Karis,” he said loudly, and she flinched in alarm. He pushed both hands though his hair, dropping them behind his head. Seeing his massive biceps flex was almost enough for her to continue and throttle herself at him. But something was wrong. He looked almost…tormented.

S
he placed her palm on his face. “What’s wrong, Michael?”

He exhaled slowly. “You’re so beautiful. Sometimes I can’t take it.
I have thought about this moment for three fucking years. I can’t believe you’re standing here right now. With me.”

She
looked down at her body and shook her head. “I’m like”—she scrunched up her face—“the cheap-ass prize in one of those claw machines at Walmart. You’re the…the frickin’ Mega Millions lottery. Sorry for the corny metaphors, but I mean, do you even look at yourself in the mirror?”

He
chuckled and pulled her close. “Stop.  Do you know how good you make me feel, Karis…how wanted, virile,” he whispered into the crook of her neck as if embarrassed. “One sentence can swell my heart and make me hard as fucking stone all at once.” He lifted his head and tipped up her chin. “But sweetheart, you’re dead wrong. You’re priceless.”

He hugged her to him
and reached around her back to unclasp her bra and move it off her shoulders. Her heavy breasts fell into his hands. He lifted them and kissed the swell of each before placing his fingers in the band of her panties, trailing kisses down her stomach as he pushed them to the floor.

His eyes
drank her in from the top of her head to her toes. “Christ. I’m never going want you dressed.”

She lifted one eyebrow.
“I’m not sure Jesus would approve of all the things we have done or are going to do to each other.” His deep laughter filled the room as he shook his head.
Thank God
. She needed him to laugh. His strange insecurity unsettled her a bit, but more, she was beyond nervous. Even though he had seen her naked, she had been up against the wall and in the very tight front seat of a truck. It was dim, and, quite frankly, he hadn’t really seen her hips or ass, at least not from the back. Her mind ran through images of her wide hips, their “fluffy” parts, her thin stretch marks and the c-section scar. She felt utterly inadequate. And
then
he gestured with one finger to turn around.

Please,
for the love of dim lights, no! Karis cleared her throat. “Michael, the thing is, I’ve had children, so...my body is not what it used to be. I mean—I know you’ve seen my faint scar on my lower belly, but—.”

“Stop
,” he growled out. Her mouth dropped open at his tone. “Did you not believe me when I said you are beautiful and sexy?”

She wrinkled her nose.
“Honestly? No, not really, I—.” He pressed his finger to her lips as he pierced her with those decadent eyes.


Stop thinking those damn irrational thoughts. Turn around slowly. Now.”

“Can you at least dim the light
, please” she requested, sounding whinier than she intended. His nostrils flared as he sucked in air.

Thinking he was granting her request, she watched him march to the light switch and flip on the remaining lights.

“Michael,” she yelled before quickly bending to grab her dress.


Karis, I’m going to say it one. more. time. Drop your dress and turn around—slowly—

so I can see the body I’m going to thoroughly enjoy ravaging over and over.”

She glared at him. “Don’t you mean
ravishing
, Professor?”

“No.”

Well, shit. She tried to ignore the new wave of arousal battling with the need to vomit. She hadn’t been this nervous in years. But the sexy bastard simply tilted his head, waiting for her spin.
Fine
! With an internal groan, she shut her eyes tightly and dropped her dress. She could feel his eyes running over the length of her. Her body heated; her heart beat out of her chest.
God, what if he hates my body?
Wouldn’t that just suck. What would he say? ‘Karis, I’m afraid you won’t be number twenty-one in my list of conquests. Well, it’s been real.’
No
, he wasn’t cruel.  After she made almost the entire rotation, she opened one eye…then the next. At least if he was still hard, she knew her body didn’t completely turn him off. She dashed her eyes to his pants for reassurance and swore she saw his cock jump. She blinked rapidly. Yep, still there. She lazily moved her eyes to his washboard abs veeing up perfectly to his firm chest and broad shoulders. She studied his face. It exuded what could only be described as dangerous. For a moment, she felt exactly as he saw her. She, Karis Bennett, prompted a sex god’s hard-on. He still wanted her as much as she did him.

Her breath quickened as he indulged his eyes
further. He started at her breasts; they tingled and budded in response, sending shock waves down to the wet heat dripping down her thighs. His eyes dragged down to her pussy and wet his lips, triggering her clit to swell further.
Crap, can he see how wet I am
? She attempted to slow her breathing, failing miserably. He was still clothed from the waist down. She cleared her throat. She needed to rid the insecurities and just enjoy.

“What about you, Michael
,” she rasped, and he jerked his gaze up to her mouth.

He grinned
and unbuckled his jeans, yanking them down. Her girly parts fluttered again as she watched his muscles ripple and flex with each movement. She stifled a nervous giggle. She could NOT laugh at him again. She was giddy as hell, though. It was like Christmas morning, and he was the gift she’d waited all year to rip open. Her eyes dropped to his tented boxers, jet black, masculine compared to last week’s Mickey ones. She gulped as she nodded toward them.

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