The Black Sheep's Secret Child. Cat Schield
“I’m not surprised. Rafe was never an animal person.”
Unlike Trent, who’d fostered several rescues over the years. He liked helping out—something he’d deny—but the temporary nature of providing a home for dogs who after a couple months moved on to permanent situations demonstrated his unwillingness to commit and his distaste for being tied down.
She’d been so hurt by his refusal to move their relationship forward, even though she’d known that’s how he was when she’d gotten involved with him. She kept hoping that he’d change. That she’d be the one he’d fall in love with and would be unable to live without.
Instead, in her sorrow and loss, she’d let his brother manipulate her. In her heart she’d known Trent was a better man than his brother, and a small part of her had expected him to save her one more time.
Only he hadn’t. And she couldn’t blame him for leaving her to rot.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
“For what?”
“It was wrong of me to get involved with Rafe.”
“I’ve been waiting a year and a half for you to admit that.”
Trent’s arms were around her, his lips descending, before she could guess his intention. Fire flashed along her nerve endings at the first touch of his hot mouth against her skin. She gasped as his lips trailed down her throat. In the space of one heartbeat, she transitioned from wary to wondrous. His teeth grazed the sensitive joining of neck and shoulder and her toes curled. He knew her weaknesses. Every single one. Obviously he intended to capitalize on her bad judgment.
So what?
It had always been like this between them. Hot. Delicious. Inescapable. She groaned, surrendering to pleasure. Why not? They were both consenting adults. She was no longer married to his brother. This had nowhere to go. She’d discovered the folly in trying to create a traditional family. Failing at that, what more did she have to lose by giving in to this rush of desire? And if she convinced Trent to help her in the process, what was the harm in that?
All these thoughts flashed through her head in the instant before Trent’s hand slid over her butt and pulled her pelvis into snug contact with his arousal. She fisted her hands in his hair and tugged to bring his mouth to hers. She wanted him, needed this—why deny it? Later she could chastise herself for this rash act.
Trent captured her mouth in a hot, sizzling kiss. The ache between her thighs pulsed with more urgency as his tongue plunged past her teeth. She met the thrust with ardent fervor. A growl vibrated in her throat. That they could be discovered at any second should have bothered her. On the other hand, maybe Trent had entertained enough women in here to make his staff wary of interrupting their boss.
That thought too should have disturbed her. But Savannah was beyond logic and reason.
She drew him toward the couch and pushed him onto it. He bounced a little as the cushions gave beneath him. With a sassy grin, she hiked up her skirt and climbed onto his lap. Settling her hot center against his erection caused them both to shudder. She wasn’t sure when the Courtney Day persona had fallen away. What she was doing now was pure Savannah.
Breath ragged, palms gliding up her thigh, he regarded her. His guards were up. He’d tightened his lips into an unyielding line and a sharp line appeared between his strong, dark brows. Questions gathered in his eyes. Savannah rocked her hips in a sultry move that caused him to exhale sharply in a low curse.
He started to speak. She shushed him and captured his face between her hands to keep him still while she flicked her tongue against his lower lip and then pulled it between her teeth and sucked gently. Strong fingers dug into her thighs hard enough to leave bruises. She smiled as she kept up the tantalizing seduction of his mouth.
Earlier when he’d pulled her against him, she’d felt the familiar square of tin that held breath mints and a little something extra in his suit coat pocket. Now she reached for the box and slipped it free. Trent heard the familiar rattle and leaned away from her kiss.
Savannah sat up straight and held the tin between them. “I see you haven’t changed your habits.”
“I like being prepared.”
She popped the lid and slipped a mint into her mouth. Sharp and cool, the peppermint flavor exploded on her tongue, making it tingle. “Want one?”
Eyes locked on hers, he opened his mouth and let her feed him one. While the mint dissolved, they regarded each other in silence. His gaze held challenge, but curiosity, as well. He wanted to know if she intended to get to what else the tin held. Savannah savored his anticipation. He liked being in charge. It’s why he hadn’t stuck around to be a part of his family’s business, but had struck out on his own.
No one was going to boss around Trent Caldwell.
But Savannah had found him to be a wonderful partner in bed. For as often as he’d swept her into his passion and demanded her surrender, there had always been opportunities when he let her take the lead. Because of this, her confidence had flourished, not only with regard to her sexuality, but also in her worth as an individual.
The heavy pulse of desire between her thighs hadn’t diminished one bit during this exchange. In fact, as she grew more committed to this next step, her hunger for him had only increased.
Savannah plucked out the square foil package and held it up. “Only one? You used to carry at least two.” She might have sounded confident, but she wasn’t. Courtney Day might not have thought twice about a quickie with her sexy ex, but Savannah was rapidly losing her nerve.
“What makes you think I haven’t used one already today?”
Trent had a healthy sexual appetite, and she wouldn’t be surprised if he’d already had sex with three other women. She shouldn’t care. But it hurt all the same. Several deep breaths later she’d pushed down panic and dismay. This couldn’t become about what she’d had and lost. She needed a brief interlude to escape her troubles and there was no better man to rock her world than Trent.
But why was he baiting her? She could see from his flat stare that he expected her to back off.
“For a second I forgot who I was dealing with.” She closed the tin with a metallic snap and tossed it aside.
Aware that he was scrutinizing her every move, she placed the wrapped condom between her teeth and set her hands to loosening his belt. Up until now she’d been doing a good job of appearing confident. But beneath Trent’s unreadable gaze, she felt a tiny fizz of nervous energy dance along her spine, making her fingers clumsy. Trent made no attempt to help her. In fact he didn’t move at all, except for the unsteady rise and fall of his chest.
At long last Savannah slid down his zipper and freed him. His erection sprang into her hands, eager for her attention. Overwhelmed by joy at what they were about to do, she paused for a moment, fingers coasting along his hot silken length. With a half smile she tore open the wrapper and unrolled the condom, sheathing him. His head had fallen back against the couch while his breath hissed out between clenched teeth. He squeezed his eyes shut and held perfectly still, every muscle in his body tense beneath her.
In her stylish but conservatively cut dress, Savannah might not have appeared as if she’d planned for a hot night at the club, but she’d chosen a red lace bra and thong set to wear underneath. Had she thought in her wildest dreams she would be in this position? Perhaps her subconscious had wanted this all along.
Before she could change her mind about what she was about to do, Savannah cupped Trent’s erection in her palm, slid aside her thong and brought his tip into contact with her wet heat.
For the first time in several seconds Trent shifted. He cupped her butt in both hands and moved her forward and down until he was sheathed inside her. They groaned simultaneously as she came to rest, fully seated on his lap once again. Savannah put her hands on his shoulders, needing him for balance as her head began to spin.
This