The Lost Tycoon (16 page)

He was nearly losing control. And he was still on his feet, walking. Yes, Misty was high in his arms. Her breathing was deep, and her dress was so low, he could almost — damn! not quite! — see her perfect nipples. How he wanted to taste them again, watch as they turned hard and wet.

But he wanted a lot more. He wanted to make her feel special. Because she was. She wasn’t just another woman he would be enjoying beneath him. She was flinging open doors to emotions for him, doors that he hadn’t known could be unlocked.

He was thinking of forever with this woman, and to lose that was unthinkable. He should hold off making love to her again and proclaim how he felt about her, but as he set her on her feet and she took a step back and reached behind her, he could do nothing but hold his breath.

This new, bold Misty was driving him almost to distraction. Tonight, she’d been transformed from the shy caterpillar to a beautiful butterfly. Not in looks — she’d always been beautiful, from the moment he’d first laid eyes on her with a Taser in her hand, no less. No, the transformation was in her confidence, in her self-esteem.

Bringing her back to Washington, making it possible for her to meet her family, to see the possibilities of where her life could go — that’s what had made her blossom. She was no longer alone in the world. She’d no longer have to be afraid.

Bryson knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that with or without the Andersons, Misty was meant to shine. She had found her own way so far in life, and even with all the obstacles in her way, as he’d told her before by way of high praise, she’d managed to rise above the streets, with their attendant drugs, prostitution, and violence.

With the added benefit of her family — and not to brag, but him — there was nothing she wouldn’t be able to achieve. He was grateful that he would be there to watch her break away from the shell she’d been in for so long.

But those thoughts inevitably gave way to other, more pressing matters, like the unzipping of the back of her dress. When her hands came back around, and she opened the sides…the dress still stayed in place. Bryson held his breath in anticipation.

“Tape,” she said with a giggle, and she looked down at the fabric in front, which was hanging on just to torment him.

Unable to be out of her arms for a second more, he approached, commanding himself to take this slowly, to savor every taste, every gasp, every ripple of pleasure, and to make her fly so high that she wouldn’t ever land again. Except, perhaps, on his bed, again and again and again.

“I will have to thank the designer of this dress personally,” he murmured, then leaned down and kissed her…softly…slowly…with a tenderness that had her sighing in his mouth. He was determinedly taking from her all she was willing to give.

“Bryson,” she moaned, before capturing his bottom lip with her teeth and sucking on it, sending jolts of electricity straight to his groin.

He could take her now and die a happy man.

When she ran her hands across his shoulders, slipped inside his jacket and tugged, he released his grip on her and let her send the garment to the floor. Better and better.

He felt her fingers flutter against his neck and loosen his tie before it floated to the ground. Then, one by one, she was undoing the buttons on his shirt, the sensation of her hands against his skin scorchingly sweet.

In his turn, he ran his hands along her exposed back, the silk of her skin hot to his touch — so satiny, so perfect in its imperfection. He reached the top of her buttocks, and his control almost abandoned him when he felt the minuscule piece of fabric covering that lush behind.

“You are so flawless, Misty, so unbelievably perfect,” he groaned as she kissed his jaw, then sucked the skin of his neck before her mouth followed the course of her fingers and she kissed along the smooth planes of his chest, and the rigid muscles of his shaking abdomen.

She pulled his shirt free, then bit the skin of his stomach, nearly making him jump right out of his pants — and he certainly wouldn’t have minded such a time-saver.

With calculated movements, she licked the skin of his stomach as her slim fingers began undoing first his belt, then the top button of his slacks. The sound of his zipper descending was oddly loud in the room, where the only other thing to be heard was their breathing, deep and desperate.

Reaching down, he gripped her head, holding himself steady as she slipped her hands under the waistband of his slacks and tugged. The material slipped easily from his hips and fell to the ground.

His erection stood out under the black underwear he wore, reaching for her touch. She shifted and kissed him through the silky material, making him groan as his legs fought to keep him upright.

No other woman had ever had this kind of control over him. And he loved it, loved feeling as if he were going to explode, loved knowing this was the last woman he would ever desire to touch…to sink inside…to pleasure.

When she rose back up his body, his stomach shook, his muscles tensed. He told himself to go slowly, to restrain his animal impulses. He was barely able to contain himself, but when she was standing and he found himself looking into her eyes, a calm fell over him.

Yes, his body was hard, yes, he was more than ready to complete their coupling, but, also yes, he could be happy just to hold her close the entire night — the rest of his life.

“You make me…feel. I’m falling in love with you, Misty,” he whispered. He bent forward and kissed her, keeping his eyes open to look into her mystified gaze.

“We don’t know each other well enough,” she said, confusion and hope fighting for supremacy within her fragile psyche.

“I know all I need to know, Misty. I know you love with all your heart, though you’re afraid others won’t love you the same way. I know you like to make little doodles on paper when you are sitting somewhere and bored. I know you can’t keep still, that you have to move. I know you like sappy movies and sappier books, though you try to hide your obsession. Yes, I’ve looked at your shelves. I know that you are the most beautiful, caring, strong woman I’ve ever met. And I also know that I can’t go a single hour without thinking of you, and when I tried to stay away from you, I could barely function. I want to be with you — not just tonight, but forever.”

Hope was the winning emotion in her eyes.

“I think about you all the time, too, Bryson,” she admitted. She kissed his jaw, her body trembling in his arms. It wasn’t quite an undying confession of love, but from her, it was a lot, and he appreciated her words.

“Then why should we fight this?”

“I can’t think when you touch me,” she said, sighing when he kissed her neck, then trailed his tongue along her shoulder.

“Then don’t think. Just feel.” His hands slipped inside her dress and he pulled it slowly away from her breasts, letting the fabric float to the floor, leaving her standing before him in nothing but a scrap of lacy black fabric covering her core.

“Oh…” he said in a long rush of breath.

She smiled at the passion in his gaze, confidence now shining in her eyes as she spun in a circle in front of him, letting him get a good view of her rounded derrière, then facing him and showing him the perfection of her breasts, her nipples peaked with desire.

Unable to keep himself from touching her, he brought his hands to her hips, slid them over the curve of her behind, slipping his fingers under the soft material at her hip, moving higher, covering her stomach, and then caressing her breasts, his palms rubbing across her hard nipples, making her gasp, making her entire body shake.

He walked her backward until her legs made contact with the bed, and she fell; she lay sprawled out before him, her hair gloriously mussed, her eyes shining, and her chest heaving, her body begging for his mouth to claim every inch of her skin.

He ran his mouth along the smoothness of her legs, spending extra time on the delicate skin of her toned thighs, and then he skimmed across her womanhood, encouraged by the moans escaping her throat, loving the way her body arched to reach for his mouth.

His hands roamed where his tongue wasn’t, and he touched and kissed every inch of her, leaving his mark on her thighs, stomach, chest, and neck, and making her mouth swollen from his kisses.

She writhed beneath him, begging for him to complete their union, begging for release — and he gave it to her. He returned his complete attention to her heat and helped her fly over and over again, leaving them both exhausted as he continued stroking her flesh, tasting her, loving her.

When he moved up her body, he took her breasts fully in his hands, weighed them, squeezed them, then sucked her nipples deep into his mouth, nearly giving her another orgasm.

“Please, I want you inside me,” she begged, her head twisting back and forth on the mattress, her skin covered in a light sheen of sweat, her eyes half open, a remarkable light shining from them.

Removing the last barrier between them, he quickly took care of protection, and then spread her legs wide as he pressed against her core. Inhaling deeply, he took a moment just to appreciate the beauty of her beneath him.

“Now, Bryson,” she commanded, in her need for him, now sure both of herself and confident he would comply.

“Like this?” he teased, slipping an inch inside her. This game was killing him, but having her struggle beneath him made his misery worth it.

“No!” she shouted, her short nails digging into the skin of his hips as she tugged on his body.

“Mmm, like this?” he asked, pushing another couple of inches inside her, before pulling back out.

“I swear…” As she began to threaten, he thrust fully inside and buried himself deep, taking their breath away at the perfect fit.

“You were made just for me,” he groaned. He pulled back again before quickly sheathing himself in her heat once more.

“Yes…yes…yes,” she moaned, gripping his skin so tightly that he was sure to be black and blue.

He didn’t care.

Minutes or hours passed. He didn’t know. All he knew was that each time he pulled from her, he was empty, and each time he sank back into her folds, he was complete. A glorious pressure built, limbs and mouths entwined, and somewhere along the way, they became one, one breath, one heart beating, one body, reaching for paradise.

When they peaked together, both moaning out their pleasure, she opened her eyes, and he gazed into them, knowing this was it — this was their moment. Their fates were sealed, and he would never let her go. With a guttural cry, he exploded, his body shaking from the intensity of his release, while her body clung to him tightly as it pulsed around him.

With barely enough energy left to move, Bryson still managed to pull her into his arms and stroke the slick skin of her back as the two of them floated back down to earth, reveling in what had just occurred.

Bryson was no fool. He knew this moment was beyond anything he’d ever experienced before. He knew when he had everything he could ever dream of.

As he fell asleep that night with her in his arms, he knew that the rest of his life was going to be right.

He just didn’t know that there might be a few bumps along the road.

She’d assumed she’d be relieved to head back home, away from her brother and everyone else in the house. What if they knew exactly what she’d been doing under their impressive roof?

They probably did; she couldn’t miss their knowing looks. Thankfully, no one had called her on it. She would have been mortified. So when it came time to leave for the airport, it was
almost
a relief —
almost
being the key word.

No, saying goodbye wasn’t as easy as Misty had thought it would be.

She couldn’t repress a few tears as she and Bryson pulled away; the sight of Joseph and Katherine, Damien, and Sierra with the baby all standing on the step waving made her heart ache in a way she hadn’t experienced before.

For right now, they appeared to have embraced her as one of their own. If they still felt that way when the newness wore off, she’d be more than happy to be a part of their family.

Family. That was something she’d never thought she’d have — and she certainly wasn’t going to throw it away.

Soon the case would be over, and Jesse would be locked behind bars. She had to tell herself that. And then she’d grow more confident about the future. Then, her real life could begin.

For now, she had Bryson at her side. He was there to keep her safe. He was there to make sure this man who had terrorized her for so long never got the chance to do it again.

But she had a bigger fear than Jesse. Was she confusing love with something else? Bryson had been the one to show up and tell her Jesse wouldn’t be able to hurt her again; he’d been the one to show her how wonderful life could really be. He’d taken her to the edges of paradise and beyond and then slowly floated back down to earth with her.

But did all that mean that she was falling in love with him, or was she actually just grateful to him? She hadn’t ever fallen in love before and had no idea what true love felt like. She knew what her heart felt, knew that the thought of being with him for the rest of her life sounded just about perfect, but she didn’t know if she could trust what she was feeling.

Maybe the best way to judge the way she felt was if she were away from him for a while, even a few days. She’d been in this whirlwind relationship — if
relationship
was the right word — and she hadn’t had time to pause, hadn’t had a chance to really think.

She’d gone straight from one situation to the next, each one new, each one a first in her life, and more exciting than the next. There had been fear, passion, excitement, and sadness. All of these emotions sent her whirling. She needed to land on solid ground again before she could properly assess what she felt beneath all the adrenaline.

At the airport, Misty knew she was being unusually quiet, but there was so much on her mind. She wanted to speak to Bryson about it, share her feelings, but she certainly didn’t want to do it in public.

He’d shared with her the night before, so she didn’t think the conversation was going to go badly. It was more that she was afraid of how she felt, not of how he felt. Still, he could be riding on the same emotions as she was, and also be confusing love with something else.

Didn’t men confuse love and sex?

Hadn’t she read magazines before that said if a woman wanted to keep her man, she needed to feed him well and give him great sex — something about being a lady during the day and a tramp during the night?

Ahhh, she couldn’t remember. But if she could make him confuse the two things, would it be to her advantage? Or would everything crash and burn?

The time passed quickly, and soon they were boarding the plane. Misty sat back in the comfortable first-class seat, and decided she’d drink a screwdriver. A bit of alcohol couldn’t hurt, though it wasn’t yet 5 p.m. Yeah, yeah, it
was
somewhere.

She was trying to work up the courage to talk to him about these serious matters when the two of them weren’t naked or about to get naked. There was no chance of that happening while they were in flight, not unless she wanted to become a member of the mile-high club. And, no, she did not.

The plane took off, and soon Bryson turned to her with a worried look in his eyes that didn’t reassure her.

“I have something I really should have told you sooner, but…I just didn’t know how to say it,” he began.

“You can tell me anything, Bryson,” she said, though her heart pounded.

“It’s really not that big a deal…”

“If it’s not that big a deal, why are you having such a difficult time saying whatever it is that you need to?”

“Okay, here goes…” He took a long drink of his diet soda before continuing. “Joseph didn’t tell you how he found you, did he?”

Misty was silent as she processed his words. This wasn’t what she’d been expecting. What did Joseph have to do with their feelings toward each other?

“Um, no. I guess that should have been the first thing I asked. I was just in too much shock over the whole situation.”

“Well, I’ve known Damien for quite some time. We’ve never been particularly close friends, but we see each other a few times a year. I knew he was looking for a sister. I also knew she would be about your age.”

“Just tell me, Bryson. I don’t know what that has to do with anything.” So far, he hadn’t cleared anything up.

“I took a glass from your house, had your DNA compared with Damien’s.” This time, the words rushed from his mouth before he lifted his glass again and drained the contents.

“May I get you another drink, sir?” The flight attendant approached and Misty wanted to shout at her to go away.

“Yes, please,” he replied, and Misty waited while the woman took his glass, then brought him a fresh drink.

The more she thought about what he’d done, the more irritated she became. Why couldn’t he have just spoken to her about it? Told her his suspicions, said that he might know where her brother was? Why had he been so underhanded?

“Isn’t that illegal?” she asked instead.

“No. Well, stealing your glass is theft, but not testing your DNA. Once you discard something with your DNA on it, it’s fair game in most states,” he said.

“So, should I press charges for theft?” She was only half kidding.

“I supplied them for you,” he reminded her, and that just pissed her off more.

“So you set me all up, and that means you get to do what you want?”

“I know I should have told you what I was doing, but try to understand. I was doing what I thought best to protect you. I didn’t want your hopes to be raised if it turned out that he wasn’t your brother.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Great. That’s what I need, Bryson. I need you to keep babying me. You told me you were falling in love with me, but how can you love me if I am this weak little girl who needs you to hold my hand at every moment of every day? This visit has finally given me some confidence, made me see that there’s so much I can do. What you did has knocked me back down a step, saying you’re the big, tough guy — the heroic FBI agent — who will just take care of everything for me. How is that caring about me? How is that protecting me?” she whispered furiously, not wanting the other passengers to overhear them but starting not to care.

“I’m not trying to hold you back. If I could attach the wings to your back to help you fly, I would. I just wanted to take care of you, and I still do. Is that so wrong?” he demanded, his own temper flaring.

“Yeah, Jesse just wanted to control me, too. That’s really what this is about, isn’t it? You are the man and I’m the meek little woman, so I need to just bow down and be grateful when you do something for me that
you’ve decided
is in my best interests?”

“I’m done with this conversation, Misty. It all turned out well. I can’t believe you would even compare me to that man. He is a worthless piece of trash,” he said, fury flashing in his eyes.

“Well, I’m done, too. I need to think about this, Bryson.” Misty didn’t like it at all that he was now telling her when a conversation was going to end.

As the plane started its final descent into San Francisco, Misty wanted to break the awkward silence between the two of them, but she couldn’t seem to find the right words. She knew she was being unfair. Yes, the way he’d obtained her DNA was wrong. Yes, he should have trusted her more with the truth, but hadn’t she been a frightened woman when he’d found her? Hadn’t she trembled in his arms?

She knew he’d done what he had with good intentions, even if he had gone about it all wrong. She just didn’t know how to call a truce.

They had time.

Then the plane ride was over and done with before she could come to any conclusions, and they were silently walking side by side as they left the terminal. Just when she was working up the courage to apologize, or at least to try to work this fight out, his phone rang.

When he snarled into the device, they both stopped, and she turned his way anxiously.

“Why in the hell not?” he thundered. His voice was normally more controlled, but between their fight and whatever was happening on the other end of the line, his mood appeared to be growing worse by the second.

There was a long pause as the person on the other end of the call made some little speech or other, but whatever he or she was saying wasn’t making Bryson happy. Misty waited quietly for him to continue speaking.

“Fine. I will be there, but heads are going to roll…” Another pause. “I said,
I will be there
. Send a unit to check Misty’s house.” Yet another pause. “No, not the damn marshals; they’ll be around later anyway. I want our guys.”

Misty waited while he stopped and looked up at the sky in exasperation.

“Good. Jackson is on his way? Okay. I’ll be there in a couple of hours.”

Bryson hung up, his face now blank as he took a long breath. “I’m sorry, Misty, but I have another client — he’s just a kid, been really messed up. I can’t say anything about the case, but he ran off yesterday and they’re just now bothering to call me. Jackson, is going to make sure your house is secure. I should be back within a few hours.”

“Don’t apologize for doing your job, Bryson. I think that’s the thing I respect about you most — how committed you are to your work. We will talk later,” she said, shifting on her feet. She couldn’t tell from his expression whether their talk later was going to be good or bad. Maybe he was finished with the drama of being with a woman like her.

“I love my job, but right now isn’t the best time to leave,” he said, looking away from her as he focused on what he needed to do. She shrank inside just a little bit more. Was he thinking of the kid he needed to help, or was he pulling away from her?

Usually, a fight meant the relationship was over, at least in her world. It was either over or she was about to get the hell beat out of her. She knew Bryson would never hurt her physically, but she’d almost rather suffer through that than go through the heartache of losing him. But she was going to stay strong right now.

“You have to go. I’ll be fine,” she told him.

“I could drop you off first,” he said, but from the anxious look on his face, she gathered that the boy had run off in the opposite direction.

“I’ve managed to survive, even in some sticky situations, for a very long time. I assure you that I can get home.” She turned toward the line of cabs.

“Here’s cab fare,” he said, stepping up after her.

“I’ve got it, Bryson. I do have a job,” she reminded him, her back stiffening.

“I know, but you’re not making much,” he said, holding the money out to her.

“Believe it or not, it’s enough to survive.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take you?”

“Go right now, or I’m going to take back what I said about respecting you for being so dedicated to your job.”

After a final look her way, a look that she couldn’t interpret, he turned and jogged off, toward where his SUV was parked. Misty watched him vanish into a sea of people, and she scoffed at herself when she felt a surge of anxiety.

What they had was going to go one of two ways. It was either over — or it would truly begin. There was nothing she could do about it at the moment, so she needed to focus on what she
could
do. Right now, that was to get home. She had to work that night, so she would get only a few hours’ sleep, if she could sleep at all. Then, hopefully tomorrow, she and Bryson would talk.

If the uneasiness in her chest would go away, she’d feel on top of the world after her visit with her brother, or at least as high as the Empire State Building. The fight with Bryson shouldn’t have affected her so much, not after the wonderful days she’d had in Seattle.

The line for a taxi moved quickly, and soon she was on her way home. The sun dipped in the sky as she pulled up to her house.

Home, sweet home — for now, at least. Misty paid the cab driver and stepped wearily from the car.

It had been a lovely trip, but she was tired straight through her bones. Having a panic attack and then meeting her family had been overwhelming. Add to that not sleeping much because of certain nighttime activities, and the math was clear: not enough sleep. To end the trip with a fight, and she was done for.