Breathless Secrets (Rose Garden Apartments Book 3) Page 7

  When the elevator pinged, he grabbed her hand and led her into his place. But he didn’t give her time to look around. He doubted that she’d like his penthouse anyway, so he kissed her. Right there in the foyer, doing what he’d wanted to do in the elevator; pressing her back against the wall as he lifted her so that her body was more perfectly aligned with his.

  He heard her gasp, and absorbed it into his mouth as he covered her lips with another kiss. Angling her body allowed him to free up one hand and he slid the zipper of her dress down. But because of their position against the wall, he couldn’t see her. Not well enough. And finally getting to see Molly’s breasts was not something he was willing to miss!

  With his hands under her thighs, he carried her into the bedroom, kicking the door shut before he moved over to the bed, lowering her down.

  He heard a whimper and smiled. Actually, he wasn’t sure if his face moved at all. “I need you naked, Molly,” he said, as he flipped her shoes off, and slid the straps of her red dress down. She shimmied her hips, making him groan with lust.

  James had been so focused on taking off her clothes, that when he looked up and saw the red, lace bra he froze…too stunned to even breathe.

  “James?” Molly whispered.

  His eyes jerked to her face and he suddenly realized that she was nervous. “You’re so beautiful!” he rasped, straightening up so that he could strip his own clothes away, needing to feel her skin against his. “Don’t move, Molly!”

  She froze and he might have laughed if he wasn’t in so much pain. When he finally pulled off the last of his clothes, he moved back to her, taking her hands that tried to shield herself from him and putting them on his chest. At her first touch, a low growl of approval tore from him. “I love the way your hands feel against my skin!”

  Her big, blue eyes touched him deeply, but not as deeply as when she leaned forward to kiss his chest. Her lips were soft and tentative at first, but when her tongue flicked against his nipple, he just about lost it!

  Pulling her back into his arms, he rolled over so that she was straddling him.

  Molly stared down at the impressive expanse of muscles and skin. Slowly, despite the clawing need to shift her body backwards and fill herself with his heat, she let her fingers slide over his chest, exploring every beautiful muscle along the way. Molly was just as amazed at the skin in front of her as she was with the fascinating erection behind her. Letting her nails trail over his muscles, she watched with increasing delight and amazement as he closed his eyes, gritting his teeth as she explored him. Wiggling lower, she moved over that hard part of him, smiling slightly when she heard him hiss, and moved lower still.

  “You’re very strong, James,” she whispered in awe, her fingers trailing over his hard thighs, although her eyes were glued to that throbbing member. Closer and closer, her fingers teased, until her hand wrapped gently around the thick shaft. Molly ignored his groan as she explored, unwilling to hurry this process. She’d spent far too long thinking about him and she was going to…!

  “Hey?” she yelped, finding herself flat on her back as James loomed over her. “I was–”

  “I don’t care,” he growled, lowering his head to kiss her into silence. His tongue invaded and Molly curled into him, pressing her body against his desperately. Moving lower, his mouth latched onto her lace covered breast and she gasped, arching into his mouth, pressing her nipple deeper. His tongue laved and his teeth nibbled, creating a red hot line of desire directly to her groin.

  That’s when she felt his finger sliding into her and Molly spread her legs, giving him easier access.

  “You’re so ready for me,” he groaned, but he didn’t shift higher. In fact, he moved lower, kissing his way down over her stomach. Her fingers shifted from his shoulders to his hair, pulling at the surprisingly soft locks. But he didn’t get the hint. Or if he did, James ignored her silent plea. She didn’t want him to…!

  “Yes!” she gasped, her hips shifting as his tongue touched her there, right on that swollen nub! She groaned, her back arching, her hips rolling, trying to elude his relentless tongue. But he held her still so that his mouth could latch onto that nub. And boy was he good! James knew what to do with that mouth. In that last moment of barely conscious thought, she would have sworn that his tongue was magical. But instead of thinking, her body burst into flames of pleasure so intense, she screamed his name, her hips undulating against his mouth as her first orgasm washed over her in waves.

  By the time she finally came down, James had already donned a condom and was moving over her, his eyes heated as he wrapped her legs around his waist. “Have I mentioned how beautiful you are?” he asked. His eyes shuttered closed as he pressed into her heat, his invasion smooth as her desire-slick sheath absorbed his body.

  Molly opened her mouth to reply, but words were impossible. Arching against him, she took him deeper into her body, her nails digging into his shoulders as he thrust into her, making her whole world shimmer with pleasure. It wasn’t a climax, but it was pretty damn close!

  Then he started thrusting. Slowly at first, but with each pulse into her body, he moved faster, his abdomen pressing against that already-swollen nub, the friction driving her wild. Again and again, he thrust into her, bringing her closer and closer until her body tightened with another release. This time, the pleasure was so intense that no sound came from her as she writhed beneath James, her mind blanking as pleasure took over.

  A long time later, she felt him pull her against his side and she sighed, closing her eyes as exhaustion rolled over her.

  James looked down at Molly’s sleeping expression. Even now, he was fascinated. Her long lashes splayed out against her pale skin, her blond locks completely disheveled. He’d done that to her, he thought with a satisfied completeness he’d never felt before.

  Slipping out of bed, he went to the bathroom to clean up. When he came back, he turned off the lights and pulled Molly back into his arms. For a long time, he stared up at the ceiling, his mind replaying every moment of their homecoming. It had been the single most amazing sexual experience of his life. And he couldn’t wait to do it all over again.

  Chapter 6

  Eleanor Morgan sipped her tea, ignoring her husband as he noisily scraped butter over his toast. The man was such a slob, she thought. But he was powerful within the Manhattan social scene and, for that, she endured his slovenly habits and his heart-attack-inducing diet. She also ignored the woman living in the brownstone over in Brooklyn, which he visited on a regular basis, as well as the prostitutes that frequented his office on those afternoons when he had “important lunch meetings”. As long as he paid her credit card bills and kept up his end of their financial bargain, Eleanor didn’t care what her husband did with his time. She maintained his house and performed her hostessing obligations. Their arrangement worked, even if it was more of a financial partnership than a marriage.

  Flipping through the newspaper, Eleanor was about to toss the paper aside when a headline in the political section caught her eyes. For a brief moment, she almost felt a pang of pride as the image of her son came into focus. The picture was blurry and Eleanor made a note to contact Herman Bradshaw, the editor in chief of the newspaper to admonish him for the mediocre skills of his photographer when she saw her son’s arm around a woman in a red dress. She looked like a hussy, Eleanor decided with immediate disdain.

  Her eyes narrowed as she read the caption. “Hot Shot Lawyer Challenging the Von Deuch Legacy” That was it? Nothing about the woman?

  She must not be important. Eleanor started to dismiss the woman. Plenty of females had passed through her son’s life and this one was just another in a long line. It didn’t matter as long as this…person didn’t distract James from his career. A career Eleanor was looking forward to exploiting for her own benefit! Eleanor had plans once her son was in his senate seat. She wanted to harness his power for her own personal ambitions.

  But what was this woman doing by his side? And why
was James looking at her as if…did James actually have feelings for this woman?

  She almost laughed at the possibility. James wouldn’t dare denigrate himself by attaching his name to such a ridiculous woman! Her hair was blond! Was the color even real? And…good grief, she was wearing a garish red dress! What trash! How dare this tramp wear such a whorish shade when on her son’s arm!

  “Everything okay, darling?” her husband asked, setting down his own newspaper and wiping crumbs from his mouth with a pudgy hand. They had two newspapers delivered every morning since neither was willing to share. They didn’t share bedrooms or bathrooms, why the hell would they bother to share a newspaper? It was bad enough that they had to share the dining room table!

  “Everything is perfectly fine, my love,” she said, forcing her lips up into a semblance of a smile. “Why do you ask?”

  He shrugged, lifting the starched napkin to his mouth, wiping his fleshy lips before tossing it onto the table.

  Eleanor didn’t bother to roll her eyes, knowing full well he refused to lay his napkin on his chair simply to piss her off.

  “I don’t know,” the bulbous man said as he stood up, buttoning his tailored jacket. “I suppose because you look irritated.” He chuckled, causing his multiple chins and jowls to shake. “But how would I know the difference? You’re always irritated!”

  And with that, he left the room. Eleanor ignored him. Ruppert was just a means to an end. Husbands came and went. And because of his irritating comment, she would stop by the jewelers and buy those diamond earrings that she’d fallen in love with last week.

  Not that she needed more diamond earrings. She had several, all of them safely tucked away in a safety deposit box that only she knew about. Eleanor considered her jewelry collection to be her financial safety net. She was well aware of her husband’s opinion of her, as well as her reputation among their social circle. Hell, it was how she maintained control over the other bitchy women who moved throughout the Manhattan social set. No one crossed her because her tongue-lashings were legendary. It was a source of pride that the other wives cowered when she entered a luncheon or social gathering.

  As her eyes moved over the photograph one more time, Eleanor wondered if this woman was someone she needed to deal with. Or was this tart just a passing fancy? Was her son exploring some sort of…tramp fantasy? Sowing some wild oats?

  Perhaps it was time to do a bit of investigation. Carefully folding the newspaper, she stood up, placing her napkin on the chair with a sneer at her husband’s messy end of the breakfast table before she got on with her day.

  Chapter 7

  Molly floated through life over the next two weeks. She worked hard at the Center, but promptly at five o’clock every day, she packed up her computer, filed away her reports, and locked her office so she could head home. She’d then shower and change into something pretty and slightly daring. She enjoyed surprising James by opening the door wearing pretty dresses that made his jaw drop.

  Life was pretty good! Okay, reporters seemed to pop up at odd moments, which wasn’t appreciated. But Molly loved spending time with James. They went to expensive restaurants and he paid for their dinners. Then she’d demand equal time and would take him out to dinner at one of the less expensive culinary haunts. Every time it was her turn, he tried to pay for their meal. But Molly knew the proprietors of those establishments and, most of the time, she managed to ensure that she paid for their meal. Every once in a while, James would be extra sneaky and would get his money out before she had a chance to. But on those nights, Molly would demand the upper hand in bed as pay back.

  No matter who paid though, they always ended up in bed. Normally, James would bring her back to his place, but Molly hated his penthouse.

  “Why do you hate it so much?” he finally asked, parking in the underground parking lot.

  She stepped out of his Mercedes, meeting him at the elevator that was closest to the passenger side door. “Because it has zero personality,” she said.

  “I beg to differ,” he replied, pulling her into his arms and nipping at her earlobe as punishment. Molly simply laughed, trying to squirm away, but her efforts were half-hearted.

  “You can beg all you want, Mr. Morgan,” she teased. “But your penthouse is dull.”

  They stepped into the elevator, a private one she’d learned, and he pressed the button that would take them to the top. “How is it dull?”

  She glanced up at him over her shoulder since she was leaning back against him, his arms wrapped around her waist. “Well, let me see,” she said, tapping her chin with a thoughtful finger, pretending to consider the issue. “You have a black leather couch.”

  He waited, but the elevator doors opened and she stepped out, walking through the foyer to glare at the offending sofa.

  “And?” he prompted, as he pulled her sweater off, letting it fall to the white marble floor.

  She laughed, taking a step forward as she spun around to pull his tie off, dumping it on her sweater. “And…” she teased, working the buttons on his dress shirt, “that sofa is barely comfortable enough to sit on. It’s certainly not that comfortable for…other pursuits.”

  He looked over her shoulder. Then down at her. “Why can’t one sit on it?”

  “Because it’s too stiff. And there are no pillows.” She glanced at the leather sofa. “I’ll bet your decorator said something along the lines of how pillows throw off the clean lines of the furniture, didn’t he?”

  Molly laughed when he rolled his eyes, proving that she was right. “Okay, so I’ll get a new sofa. What else?” Her dress dropped to the floor, pooling around her feet.

  James grinned, staring down at the barely-there bra and panty set that she’d bought earlier in the week.

  “Isn’t that horrible sofa enough?”

  “You said my penthouse was dull. Are you telling me the sofa is the only thing that you hate?”

  He lifted her up so that she was perched on the back of the sofa, the cool leather stiff against her nearly bare bottom. Looking around, she wondered what he was up to, although she could probably guess.

  “Hmmm…well, your dining room table has no personality. It’s just a polished wood table. The chairs aren’t ‘Thanksgiving chairs’ either.”

  His head reared back slightly while his hands slid up her waist, cupping her breasts. “Your family has chairs for different holidays?” he asked, then leaned into her so that she had to hold his shoulders for balance or fall off the sofa.

  “No!” she laughed, and yelped when his mouth captured her nipple, teasing it unmercifully. When he finally lifted his head, he looked into her eyes, although his thumbs continued to tease her nipples.

  “No? You mean… you don’t want me to keep doing this?”

  Molly’s eyes glazed over. She could have sworn that they were talking about…something else. But his fingers, his thumbs…and how had he gotten between her legs?! He reached down and tore off his pants. When had he gotten rid of his socks and shoes? Good grief, James was gloriously, amazingly naked!

  “Condom?” she whispered, shivering as he nibbled his way along her neck.

  He fumbled with the condom, rolling it down over his length and Molly knew that he was doing that on purpose. Every time his fingers moved, they seemed to hit that nub, making her shiver and wiggle. He even chuckled softly as he grabbed her hips, pulling her forward as he plunged into her heat. For a heartbeat, they stayed just like that! Molly sighed, absorbing his beautiful invasion and James groaned as her body expanded around his shaft, then tightened as her body reacted.

  “I love it when you do that,” he whispered, then started moving. Thrusting slowly, torturing Molly with every slow, slick thrust of his body into hers until he finally started moving faster. And faster! They were gasping for air when she shuddered, her orgasm taking both of them over the edge as they held onto each other.

  In the aftermath, James lifted his head and looked around, realizing that Molly was still perched
on the back of his black sofa. “I think I kind of like this sofa,” he admitted, biting her earlobe again before pulling out, then helping her down. He held her steady while she regained her balance, then kissed her before grabbing a tissue to dispose of the condom.

  “What don’t you like about my bedroom?” he asked, taking her hand to lead her down the long hallway.

  “I love your bedroom,” she replied, still dazed.

  He shook his head. “No no,” he teasingly corrected. “You said that my place was dull.” He pulled her along into his bedroom. “I’m going to prove that it isn’t.”

  Molly laughed, delighted with his plan. She loved this playful, daring, loving, and passionate side of James Morgan. This was the side of him that the public didn’t know about. It was the side that she felt special to be privileged to discover!

  Eleanor dropped the newspaper in disgust. Another picture! That woman, whoever she was, had to be stopped! Granted, she was wearing a demure dress this time instead of a red tramp outfit or a pair of those repulsive jeans and worn out tee shirt, but James couldn’t be seen with a tramp. Molly…whatever her name was…simply wasn’t the right image for a man about to win a senate seat.

  Tapping a well-manicured fingernail thoughtfully on the arm of the polished chair, she contemplated her options. Perhaps it was time to be a bit more active in her son’s life. Granted, she hadn’t seen or spoken to James in about…well, she couldn’t remember how long it has been. There hadn’t been any need to speak to James. He was doing an excellent job of becoming a presentable man, so there’d been no reason to bother with him.

  But now…her gaze moved to the picture in the newspaper again…now, there was a reason. James simply could not fall for a tramp, regardless of how much the press loved her and the pathetic community center she ran. She wasn’t the right type. James needed someone who knew how to lord over an exclusive “casual” Sunday brunch or a massive formal gala in Washington, D.C. with all of the right people. And she doubted that this Molly woman knew how to throw the all-important dinner parties with cocktails and socializing that were vitally important for every man’s career.