Crave (His Second Chance with Heiress Bryn Christmas Duet #1) - Z.L. Arkadie Page 0,25

know how you carried my purse and briefcase?”

“Yeah…” he said as if he was trying to figure out why I’d mentioned that.

“No guy has ever done that for me before.”

“No guy’s ever carried your things for you? I’m sure your brothers have. Haven’t they?”

I thought hard, trying to remember an instance. “I think my brothers wanted me to learn rugged individualism within an environment where servants were paid to make my life overly comfortable.”

Jamison grunted thoughtfully, and I explained how Jasper had run the household in my father’s constant absence. “He once told me, ‘Bryn, I don’t want you to get used to this shit just in case one day it’s taken away from us.’”

“You’re telling me Jasper Christmas believed he could lose all the money your family has?”

I chuckled as I remembered what I was thinking when Jasper issued me the warning. “No… I don’t think so. I don’t even think what he said came from him.”

“What do you mean?”

“His mother. My mother. Amelia…” I was on the verge of revealing something to a man who, by all indications, was my brother’s foe. Making love to and falling for him was bad enough. “Forget it.”

He moved my hair to kiss the back of my neck. “You can trust me, Bryn.”

I fell silent. Can I? I wanted to trust him, but I knew all about deception. We had a once-in-a-lifetime soul connection, but Jamison was still working for his father, which meant he hadn’t given up on trying to please Boomer Cox.

“Have you read The Dark Christmases?” I asked.

Jamison sniffed. “From cover to cover.”

I chuckled. “Why did you read it?”

“I wanted to get to know you better.”

I twisted around to see his face. “Then you read it after you met me?”

He planted a tender kiss on my lips, sending my heart racing to the moon. “Yes,” he whispered.

His handsome face was so close to mine. We beamed at each other. “Well… you surely got to know me better,” I said.

The breath from his long sigh expanded across my face. “Oh shit…”

Striking like a viper with its prey, Jamison clutched my hip. I listened to myself release an unrestrained gasp as he shoved his thick, hard cock inside me.

Round Three.

JAMISON COX

I have two handfuls of her perfect cone-shaped tits. Her hard nipples are against my palms. I want to bust right through her. My desire for Bryn Christmas is beyond reason.

I suck on the back of her shoulder. She shudders and sighs. Her salty skin is soft as air against my tongue, and the warmth, slipperiness, and tension around my dick make me…

“Oh…” My voice shakes as I experience pleasure that’s unlike any other.

But I’m not done. I put her on her back. I suck her pointy tits. They’re deep in my mouth. I bite a nipple. Not too hard, but I want her to feel it.

“Ah,” she grunts.

Yes. Fuck… umm… I shove my fingers up her wet pussy, thumb against her clit. “Come for me, baby. Let me hear you come.”

I work her clit. I eat her tits. I finger fuck her until her pussy tightens and she says, “Aah!”

I wanted her to get some rest so she could be fresh for work at sunup, but I couldn’t let her sleep. I was overdosing on Bryn Christmas. I’d fantasized about what was happening between us thousands of times while masturbating.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen,” I whispered and pelted her back and the nape of her neck with kisses. “Umm…”

“Was it the book that inspired you to fuck me?” Bryn’s tone was somber, her body motionless.

I leaned over her shoulder to see her face. “Are you okay?” I asked, hoping I hadn’t unintentionally offended her.

“I’m fine.” Her smile let me know she meant what she said. “I just want to know if you were having sex with me or her.”

“Who do you mean by ‘her’?”

“Her—the Bryn Christmas depicted in the book.”

I pondered her question, recalling the evening I started reading the biography about her family. I’d had a long and taxing day at the San Francisco office. My father, who I hadn’t heard from in weeks, had shown up and put himself in every major decision that had been mine to make. As usual, Boomer hadn’t informed himself of the ins and outs of each situation, yet he insisted on interjecting himself and changing carefully set plans of action according to his gut.

His barging in and taking control had been getting worse as he’d gotten older, and he even liked to