Better Deeds Than Words (The WORDS Series) Read online

  “Happy tummy?”

  Daniel was hugging me from behind and rubbing my stomach through my T-shirt as I dried my hands on a dish towel. I tossed the towel on the counter and spun around in his arms.

  “That steak was incredible. My tummy is very happy.”

  “I’d like to make some other parts of you very happy,” he said, nuzzling my ear. I shivered straight down to the tips of my toes. He brushed my hair away from my face and regarded me seriously. “It’s about time I stopped making you miserable, that’s for damn sure.”

  I pressed my fingers to his lips. “Daniel, don’t. The past three months—everything was out of our control.”

  He lovingly kissed my fingertips. “I adore you.” He shook his head. “Words. Not good enough.”

  “Maybe it’s time for some of those deeds you were telling me about yesterday.”

  “You’re right. There are a couple of deeds that might show you precisely how I feel. If you’re interested—” his lips moved to my ear “—I’d love to try,” he whispered.

  I bit my lip shyly. “Is it okay with you if I change first? I was hoping to show you the dress and shoes I bought for our trip to Taboo.”

  “Even if you won’t have them on for very long?”

  I laughed. “Absolutely.”

  “In that case, can you do me a small favor? Can you put your hair up?”

  “I’m sure that can be arranged.”

  “Did you want to have a soak in the tub or something? You can use the bathroom down the hall. I’ll shower in my parents’ bathroom, and then I’ll get the fire going.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  “So, you’ll be all dressed up. What should I wear?”

  I looked down at his jeans. “These,” I said. “And whatever else you want. My only request is the ratty pants.”

  “Fair enough.” He refilled my wine glass and handed it to me, his eyes shining. “I can’t believe you’re mine and this is finally happening.”

  He kissed me slowly, sucking on my tongue, tugging at my lip, moaning quietly into my mouth. Finally, he broke away.

  “You’d better get going before I ravish you right here on the kitchen table.”

  “That doesn’t sound unappealing.” I playfully tugged at the top button of his jeans.

  He slapped my ass, pointing down the hallway to the bathroom. “Go!”

  I laughed, making my way to Daniel’s room, grabbing my bag and taking it into the bathroom with me.

  For the next half hour I soaked in the tub with my wine, moisturizing my skin liberally afterward and finishing off with a vigorous tooth brushing. I selected a black lace bra and accompanying panties, smiling as I anticipated Daniel’s reaction to the hot pink polka dots. I slipped into my dress and shoes and arranged my hair in a loose bun, securing it with a clip. At last, I surveyed myself in the mirror and smoothed my dress.

  “It’s show time, Aubrey,” I whispered to my reflection.

  My shoes clicked on the hardwood floor, announcing my arrival. Daniel was sitting on the sofa in front of a roaring fire. A row of tea lights glowed across the mantelpiece. Smoky jazz music filled the room. He’d opened another bottle of wine, and two glasses sat on the side table. He’d thought of everything.

  He turned as I crossed the room and then stood up, eyes wide. “Wow. You look stunning.”

  “Thanks,” I said, trying to own stunning as I stepped into his embrace. He held me tightly and then moved back to take a closer look at my dress and shoes.

  “Gorgeous. How do you feel?” he asked.

  I smiled. I felt gorgeous. And sexy. And ready. “Nervous as hell,” I said. “You?”

  “Same.”

  “Any anxiety?”

  “Only the performance kind.”

  I laughed lightly. “I don’t think that’s going to be an issue.” I rested my hands on his chest. “But how are you feeling about losing your independence?”

  He frowned and played with a loose tendril of my hair. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you’ve been self-employed for so long, I’m concerned you might have trouble getting used to having someone working with you,” I teased.

  He threw his head back and laughed. “Ah, I honestly don’t see that as a problem.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He nodded. “Oh, I’m sure.”

  He ran his hands down my back and rested them on my hips. Then he told me with his lips, his tongue, and his sighs exactly how much he wanted me. As our bodies pressed together, it became abundantly clear that, like me, Daniel was ready.

  “This dress is beautiful, Aubrey, but unfortunately it’s in the way of something I really, really need,” he murmured.

  “Zipper’s in back.” I slowly undid the buttons of his shirt, sliding it down his arms and tossing it on the couch. I snuck my fingers under his white T-shirt and rested my hands on his sides.

  He looked into my eyes and found the top of the zipper, slowly easing it down.

  “I can’t wait to see you step out of this dress.” He lowered his lips to my shoulder. “God, I want you,” he whispered. He slid his hands down my back, cupping my buttocks.

  “Daniel,” I sighed, barely able to speak as he lavished my neck with kisses and brought one of his hands up, running his fingers lightly along my spine. “Daniel,” I repeated, taking his face in my hands.

  His eyes searched my face. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m wonderful, but—would you do something for me?”

  “Anything.”

  “Would you sit on the couch for a minute?”

  He squeezed my hand and sat on the edge of the sofa, gazing at me with undisguised longing. Emboldened by his desire, I eased off my shoes, kicking them to the side. Daniel leaned forward eagerly. I slowly lowered the straps of my dress and then let it fall unceremoniously to the floor and stepped out of it.

  His eyes traveled up my legs, lingering over my panties and then moving up my torso to check out my breasts. I didn’t know what was making me warmer, the heat from the fire or the heat from his gaze.

  “Do you have any idea how incredible you look right now?” he asked me.

  I simply raised my hands to my head, unclasped the clip, and let my hair fall around my shoulders.

  “Sweet Jesus,” he breathed. “Aubrey Price.” He looked me up and down again. “You are hired.”

  Chapter 27

  Heavenly

  Panting he lies and breatheth in her face;

  She feedeth on the steam as on a prey,

  And calls it heavenly moisture, air of grace;

  Wishing her cheeks were gardens full of flowers,

  So they were dew’d with such distilling showers.

  (Venus and Adonis)

  “AM I?” I ASKED, laughing at the naughty gleam in his eye.

  “Most definitely.” His eyes traveled down my body again, making my stomach flutter with excitement. “When can you start?”

  I twirled a lock of hair around my finger. “How’s right now?”

  “Perfect.”

  I lowered myself to the rug, reclining against the pillows and holding my hand out to him. Something about the way he was worshipping me with his eyes made me feel completely comfortable despite my nerves. A strange expression crossed his face.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he said quietly.

  He stood above me and pulled off his T-shirt, blindly throwing it behind him. With his eyes locked on mine, he popped open the top button of his jeans. I drank in the sight of his bare chest, his tightly muscled abs, and the sprinkling of hair below his naval. As his fingers moved to the next button on his fly, I shook my head.

  “No?” he asked, his hand hovering over the button.

  “No.” I held out my hand to him again. “Not yet.”

  He knelt down and stretched out beside me, resting his hand lightly on my stomach. Every nerve in my body strained toward him, eager for his touch, but at the same time I was para
lyzed with anticipation, my hands fisted at my sides. Finally, after looking at me hungrily for the longest time, he placed his finger gently on my mouth, tracing the outline of my lips. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, melting into the fur rug.

  I kissed his finger softly, and when I opened my eyes he was smiling as he traced a soft line between my breasts and across my stomach, making me jump when he found the ticklish spot under my ribs. He toyed with the bow at the side of my panties.

  “Do you know how many times today I wanted to tear your clothes off?” he whispered, running his fingers along the side of my thigh to my knee and back again.

  “I’m surprised. You certainly didn’t let on,” I said, my voice wavering.

  His beautiful eyes trapped mine intently. “I’m surprised too. Apparently I have supreme self-restraint.”

  “You must,” I agreed, reaching up to run my fingers through his hair. “I hope you plan on losing it very soon.”

  “Yep. You’d better brace yourself,” he breathed.

  He licked his lips, and I found myself doing the same. And then he kissed me with a passion that swept me up like an undertow. I arched my back and clutched at his shoulders, gripping him tightly, unable to get my body close enough to his.

  He slid his hand under my back, feeling for the clasp of my bra. I squeezed my shoulders together and he deftly flicked the clasp open, kissing his way down one arm and then the other as he slowly eased the straps off my arms. He held my bra, teasing the fabric with his fingers for a moment before tossing it over his shoulder.

  “I love the polka dots, but I love these more,” he whispered, lowering his lips while I threaded my fingers more tightly through his hair, holding him still as I pressed against the soft darting movements of his tongue.

  As he licked and nuzzled, his hands began to roam. My entire body tensed, waiting for him to slide his hand inside my panties. Again, he toyed with the silky strings tied at my hip. “Are these just for decoration?” he asked, breathing hotly in my ear.

  “No. Pull…”

  He tugged harder, and the soft fabric slid open at the side.

  “Fuck,” he said, sinking his fingers into the bared flesh around my hip bone.

  “Other side,” I urged.

  He opened the other bow, and I squirmed as he loosened the strings. His fingers grazed my inner thighs as he reached down to gather the fabric in his hand. I gasped and lifted my hips upward, but Daniel’s hand was now hovering above my face, the black lace panties balled up in his fist.

  “One pair saved from certain disintegration.” He tossed the panties over his shoulder.

  And just like that I was naked. And Daniel was not. He was lying there in his jeans, with the top button popped open, and somehow this was the sexiest scenario imaginable. I pulled at his shoulders so he’d roll on top of me, but he shook his head, determined to do things his way. His self-control was mind-boggling.

  “Beautiful,” he said, as his eyes feasted on me. “I imagined you lying here—like this—in front of the fire. My fantasies didn’t even come close.”

  Was there any feeling in the world better than being worshipped by Daniel Grant?

  “Your skin’s so soft,” he murmured, his hand torturously skimming my body.

  “Please.” I sighed, writhing helplessly, trying to make contact with his hand.

  He responded to my whispered plea by tentatively running his fingers downward between my legs. His touch was agonizing in its softness and sent a piercing spasm of pleasure through my whole body. Was it possible to come from a single touch? His fingers had barely grazed me, and I felt as if I could fly apart at the seams.

  “There’s my sweet, wet velvet,” he breathed in my ear.

  I gasped while Daniel traced a tickling path across my skin. There was no rhyme or reason to his movements—just a delicious dance as his fingertips moved with no apparent rhythm. Then I realized there was a rhyme and a reason. He was trying to drive me mad!

  “Daniel, please!”

  “So polite, Aubrey.”

  “Not fair,” I said, my voice barely more than a husky whisper. “You’re teasing me.”

  “My apologies. How’s this?” he asked, sliding his fingers across my sensitive skin.

  “Oh, God.”

  “Yeah? Just like that?” His voice was almost as hoarse as mine. He increased the pressure and speed of his fingers, moving them in deliberate circles.

  Just like that.

  I loved this man. I absolutely loved him. And his fingers? Oh, I loved them too. My love for his fingers quickly became adoration when two of them slipped inside me.

  “Jesus!”

  “Some time in the last couple of minutes you seem to have found God,” he whispered.

  Never mind God—Daniel appeared to have found me a direct route to heaven. The sensations he aroused were indescribable. I couldn’t help lifting my hips to meet each lovely stroke.

  “Oh, fuck, Daniel.”

  “So much for God,” he breathed, claiming my mouth and kissing me hard as his fingers continued to drive me to distraction.

  I was a quivering ball of need, making the most inhuman sounds against Daniel’s lips, clutching him everywhere—his shoulders, his back, fumbling helplessly with the buttons on his jeans as I writhed and panted, curling my toes into the rug. He continued flicking my tongue with his in time with the movement of his fingers. Oh God, his tongue! I wanted his tongue on me!

  I pushed at his shoulders.

  “What is it? Tell me what you want,” he said, still swirling his fingers, now wet and slippery between my legs.

  “I can’t…I can’t.”

  “Of course you can,” he murmured. “Tell me. I want to hear you say the words.”

  He stilled his hand, and his mouth twisted into a sly smile. Did he think that because his fingers were no longer moving that I could formulate thoughts? Didn’t he realize how mortifying the idea of telling him what I wanted actually was? I could barely think it, never mind say it! I closed my eyes and swallowed thickly.

  “I want…I need…” Nope. I couldn’t do it.

  “Yes?” he encouraged, licking his lips eagerly. “Tell me.”

  An epic blush crept up my neck and into my face. I needed an out. So, I plundered. I plagiarized. I cheated.

  “‘Let lips do what hands do,’” I said, pushing at his shoulders again.

  He chuckled softly. “I can’t believe you can quote Shakespeare at a time like this. Cleverness like that ought to be rewarded.”

  He kissed me gently, and I could feel his smile against my lips. And then he moved, his tongue darting across my skin as he made his way from my neck to my breasts, and then stopped to drop a circle of kisses around my belly button. His hands wrapped around my hips, holding me still, and his hair tickled my tummy as he moved lower and lower, slowly torturing me with anticipation, until finally there was no more teasing. There was only pleasure.

  He anchored me with his mouth, and the whole universe was Daniel’s lips, his tongue, his fingers.

  I moaned, hardly recognizing my own voice as I laced my fingers through his hair, holding him in place. Do that forever.

  Hearing Daniel’s appreciative moans as his tongue darted against me with excruciating precision was too much. I arched upward and tugged his hair hard. He gripped my thighs, growling. Fucking hell!

  I dropped my head to the side, vaguely aware of the jazz music in the background, feeling rather than seeing the flames leaping in the fire as Daniel’s tongue coaxed me toward ecstasy.

  I was there. I was right there.

  All I had to do was let go.

  I stroked Daniel’s hair and heard myself saying his name repeatedly.

  Close…so close.

  With my heart knocking at my ribs, I opened my eyes, looking up at wooden beams crisscrossing above me, and I suddenly realized that this was all wrong because no, no, no…I didn’t want to be staring at a ceiling right now! Not the first time. No, I wanted
to look into Daniel’s eyes and feel him inside me—to feel not only physically satisfied but emotionally connected, too. I needed him to stop now before I was too far gone. I attempted to wriggle away from his touch.

  “Daniel,” I said, reaching for his shoulders, urging him to stop and move back up my body.

  He hummed, his tongue still flicking deliciously.

  “Stop. Please stop.”

  I lifted my head, and his eyes met mine. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m—yes, I’m fine. But please, Daniel, I want you up here…”

  He dropped a sweet, soft kiss on my inner thigh and then moved back up to lie beside me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  I nodded and kissed him fiercely, tasting myself on his lips and on his tongue. I reached between our bodies, pulling the rest of the buttons of his fly open, and he shifted his hips with the same sense of urgency I had. He helped me as I struggled to push his jeans and boxers down his legs. I didn’t have the patience to tease him. I wanted to touch him. I needed him inside me.

  I stroked him, closing my eyes as I felt him for the first time, bare in my hand, reveling in the silky smoothness of his skin while he pressed himself insistently into my palm, pleading for more pressure.

  “Oh God, Aubrey,” he whispered.

  He propped himself up on one elbow, his other hand cupping my breast, pinching my nipple as I parted my legs and guided him between them. His eyes were clouded, his breathing faltered, and he was shaking his head in a way that usually meant no, but which, right then, could only be interpreted as yes. Hell, yes.

  No more waiting. With a sudden sweeping gesture, he pushed aside the pillows scattered around us so that I was now lying flat against the rug. My heart beat madly, excited by his sudden urgency.

  “Now?” he whispered.

  Oh, God, finally!

  “Yes!”

  And with his eyes locked on mine, he eased himself inside me. All the needing and wanting, the months of waiting, crystallized in this moment.

  “So perfect,” he murmured as his lips sought mine.

  His muscles worked beneath my hands as I arched my body to meet his every move. It was perfect. He was perfect. The tempo of the music dictated his unhurried pace, allowing for infinite sensation. Each movement was slow and exquisite.