Torrid Teasers Volume 23 Read online

  "This is getting us nowhere. I had hoped to talk to you. I can see now I was wasting my time."

  "Is that what you call it?"

  She scooped her purse up and headed for the door. His hand wrapped solidly around her arm.

  "Talk. I assume this is about the necklace? It's very important to you, isn't it?"

  Maybe she could get him to understand just how important. Turning, she took a deep breath. “That necklace was promised to me. My grandmother told me it would lead me to the man I was to marry. I need...” Brianna's voice trailed and Jarred regarded her with a look of expectance.

  "I would love for you to finish what you were saying.” He sounded triumphant

  Brianna shook her head. “Forget it. I have nothing left to say to you."

  "You'll come around."

  "No. I will not. I will never marry a wolf."

  "Your grandfather did,” he called.

  Chapter 6

  Jarred dug his toes into the sand. The spray from the waves made it difficult to hear the man on the other end of his cell phone. It was hard enough to understand Collin's cryptic words without the howling of the salt breeze.

  He had come to the beach property and realized that he really didn't care anymore. A week ago, this stretch of sand was all he had ever wanted. Now, it stood between him and what he really wanted.

  "I screwed everything up!” he yelled into the cell.

  "Never think so, son.” Collin's voice sounded inexplicably animated.

  "She wants nothing to do with me."

  "Is that right?"

  Jarred felt the hairs on his neck again. “She's there with you, isn't she?"

  "Oh, it's just my granddaughter, bringing me a cup of coffee. Which tells me she wants something! Now, Brianna, don't look at me like that. I raised you, remember?"

  "Collin, don't let her know—"

  "I've got to go."

  "Shit!” Jarred slammed the phone closed. “She wants something, alright. My head on a platter."

  Brianna waited as her grandfather sipped his latte'. “Mmm.” He smacked his lips. “Let's see. Raspberry mocha, from my favorite coffee shop, all the way across town.” By the time he had finished the statement, it had gone from appreciation to demanding an explanation.

  She felt stupid, buttering him up because some man told her that her grandmother had been a werewolf. She shook her head, laughing.

  "Actually, I have a couple concerns over one of the clients you left me."

  "Jarred Forester is a good boy. His father and mother were close personal friends."

  "How did you know—"

  "Brianna, I'm your grandfather. Hell, your grandmother and I raised you since the time you were six. How did I know it was Jarred?” He gave a chuckle and shook his head.

  Brianna was sure she was missing some inside joke. Her grandfather gave her a smile as his eyes took on a sparkle. “That boy saw pictures of you from the time you started University."

  "Pictures, I see. Well, that boy is now a man and wanting to marry me."

  Collin Le Roux looked pleased. “And?"

  Brianna gritted her teeth. “Why me?"

  Her grandfather waved his hand as if they were discussing football teams and not a sexy wolf that was hot in bed and hotter to marry her. “This was planned a long time ago. That's why he has your grandmother's necklace. I knew you'd eventually want it."

  Brianna wanted to scream. “You told me it was sold at auction."

  "You weren't ready for Jarred or he you, but now it's time. You'll warm up to the idea."

  "That's what he said."

  "Good instincts, that boy has."

  Brianna shook her head. “He said that Grandma...” Brianna glanced around to see that no one was near. “He said that Grandma was..."

  "A wolf? Yep, totally true. I figured it would come out since he shares a similar condition. He gets that from his father's side."

  Brianna cleared her throat and forced a smile. “You call it a condition. I call it long claws, sharp teeth, and a lot of fur to vacuum up once a month."

  "You'll get used to it. I did."

  "That's what he said."

  "Man, there is nothing like a wolf in bed. I remember when your grandmother and I were young—"

  "Spare me the need for any more therapy than I require now. And don't talk about grandparent sex.” She felt utterly deflated.

  Her grandfather looked at his watch and smiled. “Thanks for the coffee. I have to go meet Judge Hawkins for tee off. Brianna, give the boy a chance or kiss the necklace good bye.” He climbed into the golf cart and turned the key.

  "I just don't want to be forced, or forced on him."

  "Then find a loophole or follow your instincts."

  Chapter 7

  Jarred waited in Brianna's office, having convinced the receptionist that he needed to be ahead of any other appointments. He hadn't slept, couldn't wrap his brain around anything other than holding her, possessing her. He stopped pacing, glancing over the pictures on her wall. There was a picture of her with her grandparents. Collin had shown it to him before, that and many others. Jarred had watched Brianna grow into a woman and had gained a fondness for her. Never did he imagine that the sexual chemistry between them would be so intense.

  He remembered how he had taken her in his office and grew hard, wanting to bury his cock deep inside her even now. Jarred inhaled and his nostrils filled with her perfume and pheromones. He grew harder and felt the pressure build behind the zipper of his pants.

  "I was told you were here.” He heard her greeting behind him. He turned, taking in the short skirt that showed her long legs. Her blouse hinted of her perfect breasts and he grew hungry to taste her flesh and kiss her lips. “Why are you looking at me like that?"

  Jared tilted his nose up slightly and sniffed the air. She was already getting wet.

  "Stop that! I spoke with my grandfather. He wasn't much help. He did confirm that my grandmother was a..."

  "Werewolf."

  "And that her necklace was given to your father with the hope it would bring us together, and that's how it ended up in your paws. No pun intended."

  Jarred gave a warm chuckle. “Well, if the fur fits."

  Brianna could not help but offer up a small laugh. “It's nice to see you have a sense of humor."

  "I have many desirable qualities,” he reminded her. “I brought you something.” He pulled a black velvet box from the inside of his suit.

  Jarred watched her very carefully as he pried it open, revealing the sapphire necklace. He could smell her surprise, infused with lust.

  Brianna's eyes darkened, “Dangling it? But I haven't found that loophole yet."

  "No. I came to give it to you. I decided since you were not interested in marriage and it did belong to your grandmother, you should have it. Brianna, most marriages with wolves are arranged. However, my father fell in love with my mother at first sight and knew there would never be another. They told me to follow my instincts and I did."

  Brianna gave a slow nod and took a step closer to Jarred. She quickly glanced at the necklace before turning her gaze back to him. “My grandmother told me the same thing. She met my grandfather at a bus stop on a rainy day.” Brianna paused for a moment and then smiled. “She loved to tell that story as much as she loved my grandfather."

  Jarred watched the emotions cross her face.

  "I'll leave this with you,” he replied. He leaned into her with the hope of tasting her lips and not receiving rejection. Declining his marriage proposal was one thing. Denying him a kiss after everything they had shared sexually was another.

  His lips briefly touched hers. He felt her arms slide around his neck and welcome him with the parting of her full lips. Jarred gently ran his tongue over the silky texture of her lipstick before gliding his tongue into the wet warmth of her mouth. She gave a soft sigh and met his thrusting tongue with her own.

  Jarred moved his hands around to feel the flesh of her bottom. He
wanted to take her there. He knew if he slid a hand up under her skirt, she would be damp and ready for him.

  Just as he decided to investigate how moist and ready she was, Brianna moved away from him. Her breathing was as ragged as his. Jarred was unsure what to say.

  Glancing at the box, she offered him a tremulous smile. “Just like that? You're giving up?"

  "Who said I was giving up?"

  "But the property?"

  "It can wait. I know I would never have to force you into my bed, and I refuse to force you down the aisle. I'm a werewolf, Brianna. Not a beast."

  "Meaning what?"

  "I don't want the property as much as I want you.” He reached out, cupping and bringing her face closer to his. “Just don't stop seeing me."

  "I won't."

  Suddenly, she was in his arms, his mouth coming down on hers hard, hungry and possessive. Brianna felt the rough brush of his coarse whiskers tease the skin on her face. She parted her mouth, inviting his tongue to explore all it wanted. Wrapping her arms around Jarred, she pressed against him, already feeling his cock hard beneath his pants. She let a moan escape her, wanting him deep inside her.

  Her need for him swamped her and she held onto his shoulders as the words formed on her tongue.

  "Jarred."

  "No. Don't stop me, Brianna."

  "No. I will marry you."

  His head lifted suddenly and he stared down at her.

  She nodded. “You just gave up everything for me. You had the necklace because I'm supposed to be with you."

  He could only nod as a grin split his handsome face.

  Jarred's strong hands caressed her, cupping the flesh of her ass and pressing her harder against the bulge that even through clothes was teasing her pussy to play. She felt him pull the fabric of her skirt up and grip the bare flesh exposed by the small fabric of her thong.

  His strong hands gave it a tug down, caressing her legs with wet silk as it slid to the floor. She moved her arms down over his shoulders, splaying them across his chest as she worked down to the buckle of his pants.

  Jarred let out a growl and tenderly trailed his finger over her wet folds, toying and teasing until the tip of his finger caressed her clit. She felt the buckle of his pants release in her hands and made quick time in undoing them. Her fingers felt the soft fabric of his satin boxers and quickly tugged them down, allowing his large, rock-hard cock to spring free.

  Another growl left Jarred as his fingers stopped working her clit and both hands moved to her hips. In a fluid movement, he lifted her back onto the edge of the desk while he pressed his large frame between her legs. She pulled on the hair at the back of his neck as his cock thrust hard and deep into her wet, begging pussy. She allowed her head to fall back as a soft wail of relief filled the office. Jarred tightened his hold on her, rocking her hard against him with every thrust. She felt the tight band tighten and the pressure build.

  "Harder,” she moaned in need and felt the aggressive and possessive thrusts increase in power. He picked up speed, taunting her pussy to let go with pleasure. Release it did, her pussy walls contracted, tightening hard around him and her heart slammed to her throat. Her shoulders shook from the intensity rippling down to where Jarred was still thrusting his cock.

  She felt one last thrust as her walls clamped around his cock, sending it a rhythmic pulse. Jarred let out a pure wolf howl as he emptied his hot seed into her, sending her body convulsing in another orgasm before finishing the first.

  Her breathing was ragged and her heart, no longer in her throat, thudded in her ears. She couldn't move. Finally, she lifted her hand from his shoulder, only to find silky strands of hair still grasped tightly in her fingers. Her mouth fell open as she looked up at him.

  Grinning, he lifted an eyebrow and shrugged. “Did I forget to mention that part?"

  THE MAN UPSTAIRS

  by

  C.Armstrong

  Chapter 1

  Sarah eased her elbows onto the kitchen counter, rubbing at the shooting pain behind dry, scorched eyes. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she glanced at the picture in the cookbook. Baked vanilla cheesecake. Her gaze slid to her creation, goop in a pan. Life had a sense of humor.

  She dragged a finger through the lumpy goop. It couldn't be that bad, after all, her last name was Lee. Her decision to taste was made for her as the liquid began to drip down her finger. She pushed the digit into her mouth.

  She gagged, trying in vain not to swallow it.

  "Oh God!” Some of it slid down her throat. It tasted like a combination of chalk and garlic, peanut butter ice cream with a hint of cream cheese. She grabbed the towel off the counter and spit into it.

  She stood, staring at the lopsided crust inside the pan. Specks of the lumpy residue clung to the counter surface and to the front side of her shirt. She could feel the corners of her mouth go slack as tears threatened to roll down her cheeks. She threw the towel back on the counter, disgusted. This was horrible. She wasn't made for cooking. She was made for eating ... and shopping, something her ex-husband had never accepted. Rather, he'd used her lack of culinary skills to ridicule, as well as to divorce her.

  She should've listened to Candace, her friend since childhood. “Don't bother baking anything, sweetie. I'd never expect that of you. Just go out and buy something.” Which really meant, “You don't know how to cook, so don't. I wouldn't want anyone to get poisoned."

  Just buying something was out of the question, especially after last year. She'd brought her usual store-bought dessert. It wasn't her fault that some of the girls assumed it to have been her recipe. Shortly after setting out her cake, another red velvet cake arrived, from the same store. Embarrassment was the understatement of the millennia. A normal person would have passed it off with a laugh. Instead, she'd felt her face flame as she helplessly recalled her ex-husband's ridicule. So, her determination had overridden good advice.

  Carefully, she moved the mixture to the oven and slid it inside.

  She felt her brows furrow in her forehead, adding to the increasing ache behind her eyes. She'd made herself cross-eyed trying to decipher the ingredients. One half cup of sugar and then, one and one fourth cup of the same ingredient. It hadn't made sense, even with the help of the calculator. Still, she was determined.

  Then the banging had started, and hadn't stopped since. She paused, starring up at the ceiling. What the hell was he doing up there? All thoughts of her ex-husband fled, replaced with visions of her new upstairs neighbor.

  Matt. Tall, dark, green-eyed and handsome. She'd passed his six foot three frame in the stairwell, watching the wide stretch of shoulders and the muscles bulge from his arms as he carried a box. She'd waited for him to speak, but he'd only smiled at her. Tongue-tied, she had turned away and had hurried down the stairs, kicking herself with each step.

  "Oh hell.” Her head pounded with each sharp bang. She took a deep breath. She wasn't going to get upset. She'd focus her mind on what he was doing to be causing such a racket. It sounded as if he was pounding the floor with a sledge hammer.

  Could all the noise make her cheesecake fall? She moved to her oven and opened the door, peeking in. So far, so good.

  She looked up at the microwave clock. “Shit. Great, just fucking great!” She forgot to set the timer on the oven. How long had it been in? She checked the cookbook. Sixty minutes ... minus five? She pressed the button for timer, but instead of giving her a temperature, it flashed a series of zeros. She rubbed her forehead in frustration.

  "Fifty-five.” She punched the hour button by mistake. Taking a chance, she hit the minute button.

  The pounding started again. Actually, it hadn't stopped, it just got louder and louder...

  She jabbed hard with her fingers on the oven panel until everything cleared. Damn it. Where had she put the instruction manual for the oven? She searched her kitchen drawers, finding it buried under coupons. She flipped it open and followed the instructions to set the alarm. Finally,
she got the timer set for forty-five minutes and peeked in again.

  She needed a drink.

  Pouring a glass of wine, she eased back onto her kitchen stool and sighed. She closed her eyes, fantasizing and listening to the rhythm of Matt's pounding, now coupled by a new pounding. This, coming from her front door.

  She knew that knock. It belonged to Ms. Jenkins, her landlord. Could her day get any worse? Sliding off the stool, she hurried to open the door before Ms. Jenkins used her passkey to let herself in.

  It was just in time. As she swung the door open, Ms. Jenkins was sliding her passkey into the lock.

  "Yes, Ms. Jenkins?” she said, slightly out of breath.

  "What's that gawd-awful noise? What are you doing up here?” She squinted one eye, lifting the eyebrow of the other at the same time. “You have a man in there? ‘Cause as a single woman, you shouldn't be alone with a man. It ain't right, unless you're married to him."

  Breathe, Sarah, breathe. She could feel her hand tighten around the doorknob, trying not to close it in the woman's face.

  "No Ms. Jenkins. The sound's not coming from my apartment.” She closed her door some as the old woman peered into her living room. The old woman gave her what seemed like a disbelieving look.

  "Are you sure?"

  "I think I would know."

  "Well, where is it coming from then? An old woman like me can't concentrate on her bingo when I have to listen to all that ruckus! I'm old and wastin’ away. All I have is my bingo and I can't have that interrupted."

  Didn't the old lady hear what she'd just said? It wasn't her apartment! It was the man upstairs! She wasn't about to say that though. Chances were Ms. Jenkins would want to see inside her place to make sure she wasn't hiding a man.

  "So if it ain't your apartment, whose is it?"

  Sarah sighed. “Do you remember the new resident that moved in last week?"

  "New resident? Do you mean tha’ good lookin’ feller in apartment eight? He's a nice, sweet man. Are you sure it ain't your apartment?"