As Beautiful Does
One lust fueled encounter with Patrice sends Aiden’s emotions on a roller-coaster ride. When she brands their night together as something never to be repeated again, Aiden is crushed. Long before the night of pleasure, he’d fallen for her quick wit, sharp tongue and insightful business acumen.
Patrice has forced herself to believe she has to forget about a future with him. He can’t let her go. How can he convince her that they’ve found something worth pursuing?
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Chapter One
The moment she pressed her lips against his, Aiden’s hesitance faded away. He could taste the remnants of chocolate on her breath, the sweetness no rival to the sensual touch of her mouth. He could have lost himself in that moment. In the feel of her body pressed against his.
Somehow, for some reason only the heavens knew, Patrice Grant, the woman he pined after for almost a year, stood in his embrace.
“Touch me,” she murmured. Her lips brushed against his.
Oh, Christ. His mind a blur of wants and needs, he didn’t know where to start first. When she reached between their bodies to loosen a button on her jacket, he pulled away long enough to look down. His hands joined hers, working in sync to remove the excess material separating him from her. He felt clumsy. The buttons seemed to dance out of his way as if the round pieces of pearl eluded him on purpose.
He could remove women’s clothing. He’d been slipping off bras and other underwear since he was seventeen years old. Taking off her jacket should have been as simple as taking off his own. But his mind was too fuzzy, too confused, and too excited to obey the simplest of motor commands. To distract her from his ineptitude, he captured her mouth with his again. Another burst of chocolate tingled over his senses when he slipped his tongue between her parted lips.
How many days had he watched the seductive sway of her hips as she walked and imagined sliding himself between those thighs? How many nights did he stroke himself to completion thinking about what she would feel like beneath him? A living fantasy writhed beneath his hands, and he was fucking it up because much-needed blood raced from his head to his cock.
Patrice gripped his jaw in her hands, preventing him from crushing her in his enthusiasm. He managed to release the last button and pushed the jacket off her shoulders. It slid over the silk of her blouse and caught against the crook of her arms. She would have shrugged it off, but Aiden pushed himself against her, blocking the motion. The wall behind her held her erect. Through the kiss, he grinned.
Bound and pinned in place was just one of the fantasies he’d imagined.
He worked on slipping the buttons of her blouse free next. Her soft urgent moans spurred him to work faster, to find the soft brown skin hidden beneath. He could have wept with joy when he glanced down long enough to spy a dainty yellow bra. With trembling fingers, he pushed the shirt away until it, too, caught where the jacket held her in place.
Her eyes met his when he looked up again. He kissed her, a light sweep of his lips across hers.
“You are so beautiful, Patrice.”
She was. Not just pretty. Not just cute. Beautiful.
Her almond-shaped brown eyes laughed all the time. They had the amazing ability to see right through people. Even as she sized up her competition or coworkers, they appeared to invite everyone in to get to know her. That was, until her sarcasm and sharp wit came over to play.
A perfect up-turned nose sat above full lips. The cheekbones of her heart shaped face spoke of a regal ancestry. Her face, combined with her slender neck and wind-blown locks, screamed casual elegance.
His probably wasn’t the only heart to grind to a screeching halt whenever she walked into a room. The sole black woman among a field of cookie-cutter blondes dressed alike in dark business suits, she stood out for more than just her skin color. Men and women alike visually followed her movements. She didn’t look for the extra attention. It found her.
Aiden dipped his head and tasted the skin at the base of her neck. The rounded tops of her breasts rose and fell faster when his tongue slid down her flesh. He nipped at her, his movements slow and teasing. The lace on her sexy yellow bra tickled his chin. Removing one hand from her waist, he thumbed over the cup and almost groaned when her nipple came alive under his touch.
He held his breath and pushed her breast until the areola peeked out. Just the very top of it. Just enough to make him lick his dry lips, swallow against a dry throat.
“You’re killing me, Aiden,” she complained, her voice low and husky.
That was the plan. If he had blue balls for the next year, he would tease her until she couldn’t stand it. Until she begged for relief. And God, it was going to be his absolute pleasure to give in to her.
He rushed in for another breathtaking kiss, both thumbs brushing over the lace now. She sighed, almost melted into him, and her nipples stiffened. He traced their perfect roundness, memorized the pattern of lace hiding them from view. Patrice arched into him, and he pressed his body harder against hers until she stopped squirming. This would be his show. His masterpiece to control. He wanted her to stand there and take it.
“You kept us here late.” He smiled when she wrinkled her nose. “Your demanding deadline kept us both at the office until past midnight.”
She shrugged a shoulder. Her breath caught when he pinched a nipple. “We – we have a deadline.”
“Your deadline.” He pinched harder.
Patrice moaned.
“Say it… My. Deadline.”
Defiance flared in her eyes. For a split second, he thought he might have to resort to a different tactic. When he pinched again, she nodded.
“My deadline.” Her breathy voice was barely above a whisper.
Some primal instinct within him roared its approval. “Good girl.”
Her body vibrated with tension. Either the playful toying or the slight act of submissiveness elicited the satisfactory effect. Quite possibly – oh, please God – the combination of both acts did it.
In either event, he rewarded her by sliding one hand down her stomach. He cupped the warmth of her sex, studying her reaction as he did. With what had to be an infuriating slowness, he circled her clit through her skirt with his middle finger. The nub was already hard and all but screamed for his attention.
Her arousal perfumed the air along with her repetitious moans. He would have kissed her again to drown the sounds if he didn’t find them so damned erotic. She probably didn’t realize her hips rolled as he touched her, chasing the contact she craved. When he stopped long enough to bunch her skirt in his hand, she closed her eyes, turning her head to the side. There would be none of that.
“Look at me.” She did and he fought down another flare of primal possessiveness. “Keep your eyes on mine. When I’m inside of you, when you come, I want your eyes on mine.”…
*****
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