Laura Browning

Remember Me


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he could think about was getting her naked and burying himself inside her.

      The dance ended, and he tilted her chin, brushing her lips with his. “Thank you. Would you like some coffee or an after-dinner drink?”

      “Both.”

      By their third dance, he’d found a darker corner of the dance floor where he could allow his hands to roam a little more. Her arms were twined around his neck, her fingers teasing the short hair on the back. His nerves thrummed like an alarm, telling him this woman was different. She was the one.

      “Lucy,” he growled. “I want you.” Her cheek rested on his shoulder. When he finished speaking, she turned to him. In the dim light, the gray of her eyes was as deep and unfathomable as the sea. Her lips parted. Brandon took one hand from her hips to raise her chin and they kissed. The heat of it made him stifle a groan. God, he had to have her. “Let’s go.”

      He kept her hand in his through the parking lot and into the car. When they reached the lodge, he turned to his suite and she never hesitated to come with him. Once inside, he took her coat and turned on the gas logs in the fireplace. He shed his suitcoat and loosened his tie. He’d like nothing better than to just get naked, but didn’t want to come off as too much of a guy.

      “Would you like something to drink?” He had to clear his throat. Smooth.

      She nibbled her lower lip and his cock twitched. “No.”

      He took her in his arms, needing to get his hands on her. The feel of her pressed to his aroused body made his pulse beat faster. “My God, Lucy. Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

      Her fingers grasped at the cotton of his dress shirt. “If it’s anything like what you do to me…” She lifted her gaze and now what he saw was a blaze of passion so intense, he growled.

      “I want you naked. I want me naked, and all I can think about is touching you skin to skin.” He slipped his index finger beneath the neckline of her dress and watched her tongue poke out to moisten her lips. Christ. He was going to explode before he even got her clothes off. She was sex personified. After pulling her close, his fingers found the zip and eased it down with a snick that sounded loud in the quiet of the room. His hands brushed over her shoulders, taking the dress with him. With a slither, it pooled at her ankles and she stood in front of him in a strapless, black bra and a lacy excuse for panties. “Holy shit.”

      Her glance slid down over him. He knew he was tenting his trousers, and had to fight the urge to adjust himself. God, he felt like a teenager. When she met his gaze again, she reached for his tie, pulling it loose at the same time she pulled him closer.

      “Kiss me, Brandon. Like you mean it.”

      Like he meant it? My God. He wrapped her in his arms and crushed her mouth beneath his. With one hand grasping her ass and the other on the back of her head, he plundered her mouth with his tongue. His body went even more rigid and he groaned. He was burning up, and shaking as if he’d never had a woman before.

      “Oh, Lucy,” he whispered into her hair when they both came up for air. “Touch me. Please. Let me feel your fingers on me.” He jerked the front of his dress shirt, not caring when several buttons snapped off. Then her hands glided inside and his tension eased at the same time his arousal burned out of control. When her fingers rubbed his nipples, he closed his eyes and moaned.

      “You like when I touch you there?”

      “Yes.”

      She pulled his shirt from his pants. He wriggled out of it and let it fall to the floor.

      “More,” he muttered.

      She bent her head and leaned in, her mouth and tongue closing over the tight little bud. “What about this?”

      Beyond words, he growled and tugged her down to the fur rug in front of the fireplace. She lay on her back, hands behind her head and her lacy bra barely concealing her breasts.

      “I’ve gotta have you, Lucy. Now. We can come back for all the niceties later, but if I don’t get inside you, I’m going to lose it like some high school kid.”

      “We need—”

      “A condom. I have one.” He reached into his back pocket to get his wallet while Lucy rose to her knees and began unfastening his trousers. God Almighty, he wasn’t even sure he could wait long enough to cover up. When her hand brushed his shaft, he hissed. “Stop. I can’t take any more.”

      With the foil-wrapped packet in one hand, he toed off his shoes, yanked down his trousers and boxers and stepped out of them. His eyes never left the sight of her in her lacy lingerie and thigh-high stockings. In less than a minute, he’d covered his cock and was kneeling between her legs. Too impatient to even finish undressing her, he moved her panties aside and thrust forward with his hips. To his amazement and pleasure, she climaxed on his second thrust, showing him just how turned on she was. He grasped her hips and flew in and out, crying out as his balls tightened and he spilled his seed.

      Brandon rolled to his side, panting and embarrassed. Not exactly a testament to his ability as a lover. “I’m sorry,” he grunted.

      “It was good.” Her breath came in little gasps. When he met her gaze, one brow arched, she touched his cheek. “It was.”

      He leaned over her and brushed her lips with his. “Thank you for saying that. I’ll make it better next time.”

      He stood and went to the bathroom to strip off the condom.

       Chapter 3

      Lucy watched him retreat. Drooled, more like it. He might have been a businessman, but there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. Broad, muscular shoulders tapered to a tight ass that made her want to grab it with both hands. Below were long, very muscular thighs and calves, due no doubt to the competitive skiing. She realized she was still wearing her bra and panties—well, sort of. Both were twisted to one side so they no longer served their intended purpose. With that in mind, she stripped them off. She stood, kicked off her high heels and put one foot on the arm of the couch so she could take off her stockings.

      Hearing Brandon behind her, Lucy glanced over her shoulder. His eyes were wide and focused on her ass. He held a blanket in front of him, but from what she could see, he was still as naked as when he’d left.

      “I brought you a blanket.” His voice sounded strained.

      Lucy removed the other stocking and turned to face him. She was not self-conscious about her looks. How could she be when she spent three to four nights a week taking her clothes off in front of a crowd? His discomfort made her uneasy.

      “Is everything all right?” she asked, hearing the slight hesitation in her voice.

      Maybe she had been too aggressive. Men like him wanted to be in charge, but she had been so hot for him, she’d scared him off. Her lower lip started to tremble, so she clamped down on it with her teeth, but there was nothing she could do to hide the tears welling in her eyes, and she wasn’t used to them. She never cried, so why now?

      Swallowing around the tightness in her throat, she ventured, “Did…did I do something wrong?”

      And the first tear fell. Even through the blur she could see the horrified expression now on Brandon’s face. She should have known better. My God, Edward had always been so stiff-upper-lip and concerned about what would keep up appearances. Now here she was in this classy guy’s suite, crying like a baby after jumping his bones like some cheap hooker. Lucy spun and grabbed her dress. Without bothering to put on either bra or panties, she started to pull it over head.

      “What are you doing?” Brandon growled.

      “Leaving.”

      “Why?” He tossed the blanket on the couch and grabbed her shoulders. “I know it wasn’t very good for you, but I promise…”

      Lucy wiped her eyes and stared at him. “Not good? I jumped all over you, and then before