Wicked
through the front door. White dress and all. You’re the woman I wanted this house redesigned for. You’re the woman I’ve loved and wanted since we were fifteen years old and you started teasing me. You’re the woman I love, Blair. I always have.”Blair had never in her entire life been at a loss for words. Always a snappy comeback, a sharp retort, she was a master at putting men in their places.
Rand had left her speechless for the first time in her life.
“You love me?”
“Yes. I love you.” He approached her, his body lithe and taut, his cock unashamedly rigid against his jeans. And then he did something that brought tears to her eyes. He dropped down to one knee in front of her. This dominant, infuriating, alpha male went to his knees.
“Marry me, Blair. I love you. I love your strength, your intelligence and sense of humor. I love the life you’ve built for yourself despite where you came from—and yes, I know all about where you came from.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. I’m not your father, and you’re nothing like your mother. You are one kick-ass career woman who takes shit from no man.”
She smiled at that. It was the best compliment he could have ever given her.
“I don’t want to rule your life, baby. I wouldn’t love the woman you’ve become if you were my doormat. I love that you stand up to me and give back whatever I dole out.” He reached for her hand. “I want you in this house with me. I want you in this bed with me every night, fulfilling both our fantasies. Then I want to have babies and build a future together.”
She’d been wrong. Oh so wrong about everything. She’d judged Rand unfairly for years, comparing him to her father. Yes, he was dominant and arrogant and self-assured and controlling. But he was nothing like her father. Nothing at all.
He wanted her to be an independent, take-charge woman in every aspect of her life except one. The one place where she wanted him to control her, where she wanted, needed his dominance.
Sexually.
“I don’t know what to say.”
He grinned. “Say what you feel.”
She shuddered a breath. “I’ve been scared of you my whole life. Because of my dad, and what he did to my mom. I knew what kind of man you were, and I swore I’d never be the kind of woman my mother was.”
Tired of looking down at him, she dropped to the ground and sat. Rand sat with her and cradled her hands in his.
“Go on,” he said.
“After my first few sexual experiences, I came away empty. I deliberately chose guys I could control, because I was afraid to be with someone who was too dominant. The men I chose left me unfulfilled, though, and I knew then I was a sexual submissive, that I wanted to be dominated in the bedroom.”
“Bet that really scared you, given your family history.”
She nodded. “But I was determined to stay away from men who were like my father. And I lumped you in that category. You were strong, self-sufficient, arrogant, and powerful. I couldn’t control you. You made my heart thump like a wild beast in my chest, and you made my toes curl. You made my panties wet whenever you walked by or talked to me. For years it was you I fantasized about when I masturbated. With every man I fucked it was your face in my mind, your hands all over me.”
Part of her couldn’t believe she’d just admitted that to him. The other part of her felt free and unafraid that she had. Because she knew Rand wouldn’t use it against her, wouldn’t think her weak because of it.
“That’s hot, babe,” he said, reaching out to caress her neck. “Thank you.”
Her skin flushed at his touch, her nipples tight and achy.
She finally drew a deep breath and spilled her dark secret. “I’ve loved you from the first time my heart knew what love was, but it scared the shit out of me, Rand. I’ve never wanted a man more than I’ve wanted you. All these years, all those guys, all I ever really wanted was you. The only man I’ve ever surrendered to was you.” Her body, her soul, and her heart. She’d just handed it all to him. And as she did, she realized that she wasn’t afraid anymore.
Her heart swelled with the love she’d been too afraid to show him.
“I love you, Rand.” She pushed to her knees and hitched up her skirt, then straddled his lap. Winding her arms around his neck, she smiled at him, her heart swelling so much she felt it might burst through her chest. So this was love. Giddy, disgustingly sweet. She didn’t care how stupid it was. She felt fabulous. “I love you.”
He slid his hands around her waist and pulled her against him. “Does this mean your answer is yes?”
She waited for the inevitable clutch of fear, the urge to run. It didn’t come rushing toward her. The path before her was clear for the first time in her life.
“Yes. Oh, hell, yes, I’ll marry you.” She leaned in and pressed her lips to his, breathing in his scent, tasting the coffee and peppermint on his lips before she slid her tongue inside his mouth to claim him as her man. Hers. Forever.
She was now a one-man woman. Maybe she always had been.
He scooped his hands under her butt and stood, lifting her and placing her on her feet.
“Now, Ms. Newcastle,” he said with a stern voice and an arched brow, “I believe I said something about you stripping.”
She shivered at his authoritative tone, more than ready to do whatever he wanted. No barriers this time, no fear. She belonged to him and was his to command. But she could also tease him a little while doing his bidding. First she made painfully slow work of shrugging out of her jacket, folding it ever so neatly before