Solace in Scandal. Kimberly Dean
shivers were constant now, and she stomped her feet. She walked over to the thermostat and turned the heat up another five degrees. The hoodie might have warmed her core, but her feet were cold. She pulled off her boots, but her jeans were damp, too. With fumbling fingers, she unzipped them and pushed them to the floor.
Her shivers were becoming shudders that had her teeth clacking. She scurried to the bed, jumped in and pulled the covers up to her nose. The cocoon felt cosy and safe. Burrowing deeper, she waited for the warmth to come. Even her insides were trembling.
Problem was, she didn’t know if it was from the cold or from running into him.
‘What was he doing out there?’ She’d thought she’d been safe that far out on the property, but she’d somehow managed to run into the very person she was trying to get away from.
She’d dreamed about that encounter every day for practically the past two years. It was what had kept her up last night, worrying and obsessing, but once it had been upon her, none of it had gone the way she’d imagined. She’d thought there’d be angry words. Tears and more lies.
Not that.
The cold knot in her stomach gave way to confusion.
All she could think about was the heat that had been in his eyes. Her eyelids drooped as she remembered those fascinating eyes, that gorgeous face and all those emotions that had quickly been shut off. A pretty exterior for such a flawed soul.
Another shiver went through her and she rubbed her legs together, trying to generate heat. She got more than she expected when the borrowed hoodie chafed high on her thighs. A gasp escaped her lips, and she went stock still. It only made her more aware of the garment that held her body, wrapping around it like a lover.
She took a shaky breath and smelled a musky cologne, faint yet powerful. His scent.
Rolling onto her back, she stared at the ceiling. He was a callous man; she couldn’t forget that. Look at how many investors he’d betrayed. Look at the way he’d just turned his back on her. Her nostrils flared as she took another potent drag. Her hips rolled ever so slightly, testing the sensation again.
‘Mmm,’ she hummed helplessly.
The ribbed material at the hem created the sexiest of caresses, and her fingers clenched inside the sleeves of the fleece.
She knew he was dangerous, yet he’d given her the very shirt off his back.
How was she supposed to process that?
Her teeth sank into her lower lip. The heater cranked steadily, creating a soothing purr. Fatigue was pulling at her. That, and something else. The tension that she’d sustained all night was shifting into something just as powerful and maybe more profound.
Her body relaxed deeper into the softness of the bed. Warmth was finally settling over the room. Instead of the bite of a chill, she now felt the softness of the sweatshirt against her bare arms. The hood kissed the side of her neck, making it arch. The teasing was gentle, but it surrounded her, especially down low.
The friction against her thighs was hot, the ribbed material almost abrasive. She couldn’t help the rocking motion of her hips. When the cool zipper dragged over the front of her panties, she moaned. The sensation was so shocking, her hand dove between her legs to stop it.
Or to keep it.
Her fingers stalled when she found wetness. The nylon of her panties was damp all the way through. She explored carefully, her thighs falling open as she delved deeper. Her entire body gave a shudder that had nothing to do with a chill when she touched the most sensitive part of herself.
‘No,’ she whispered into the slowly overheating room.
It shouldn’t be like this. Not with him. Not with the scandal heating up all over again.
But she couldn’t help herself as her hand skimmed away from her core, only to come back again, this time under her panties. She let out a whimper. Her flesh was plump and warm. Sensitive. Her heels dug into the mattress as her body bowed. The sweatshirt was all around her, not letting go.
She explored herself with just the pads of her fingers. The butterfly touches were creating zaps of energy that filled her whole body. Her breasts felt heavy and full and her nipples beaded tightly. She could feel the weight of the fleece upon them. With her breaths at a pant, she circled her tender opening. Even knowing it was coming, her hips surged when she pressed a finger inside.
‘Heaven help me,’ she whispered.
It wasn’t heaven that was going to give her what she needed. From that point on, everything became a blur. Her feelings, the complications, the public fascination, the slippage of time … One finger became two, and her hips were lunging as she remembered the hunger on the wolf’s face. The intensity of his sexual gaze. Perspiration broke out on her forehead, and cries of pleasure left her lips.
This was impossible. Dangerous.
Yet when the teeth of the hoodie’s zipper raked across her sensitive nub, she arched off the bed, caught in a scorching orgasm. The sensation clutched her, dragging on as the fleece brushed insistently against her bottom. It let her go in degrees until she sagged onto the bed, her body limp.
The blur of her consciousness slid directly into fatigue. The little sleep she’d gotten the night before combined with the orgasm’s drugging release. Her head rolled on the pillow and, once again, she smelled that sexy cologne. The hum of the heater lulled her.
Despite her worries and fears, she was soon asleep, with Alex Wolfe’s sweatshirt wrapped around her, holding her tight.
‘I’m fine, Mom. Really.’ Elena stepped out of the lake house and tucked the key into her pocket. The ever-changing fall weather had swung around. The sky was a brilliant blue, although the temperature still had a bite to it. That slippery slope into autumn was getting steeper and steeper.
‘But you’re trapped there.’
‘On a gazillion acres of beautiful private property,’ she teased. Still, she gave a shudder to shake off the feeling of cabin fever. Her mother knew her too well. The fact that she couldn’t leave – not without serious repercussions – was straining her nerves. She looked over the trees and the rippling water. It was a beautiful trap, but a trap nonetheless.
‘Those darn bottom feeders,’ her mother muttered. ‘Please, honey. Just brazen through them and come out here to stay with me in San Diego.’
Elena sighed. ‘You know I can’t do that.’
She’d already tried running away once. The paparazzi had tracked her down here, although they didn’t know it. There was nothing that would keep them from finding her at her mother’s condo, and this place offered much more protection, unconventional as it was. Besides, a plane ticket would set her back financially and she couldn’t afford the time it would take to pack up and move across the country.
‘But you’re stuck there with that reprobate.’
The edge in her mother’s normally dulcet tone sounded harsh against Elena’s ear, and her gaze swept along the balcony of the manor. It was empty and she saw no movement behind the windows. The ‘reprobate’ must be out on one of his walks again.
‘He sticks to his house and I stay in mine.’
‘So you haven’t had to interact with him?’
Interact.
Well, that was a difficult word to define. The only time they’d spoken was the day they’d run into each other at the fishing spot, but there had been a lot more going on between them than words. Her fingers froze over the zipper she was toying with and she pulled her hand away as if she’d just touched fire. She needed to remember