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Enchantingly Entangled Page 5


  Why can’t anything be simple?

  Why do we Spade siblings have to have such bad luck in love?

  My brother with that lunatic bitch Lulu and me secretly in love with Sterling, a guy who either mocks me and calls me a brat or doesn’t even see me or, even worse, doesn’t recognize me and sticks his tongue —his very nimble, talented tongue— in my mouth.

  I hear my brother say something and I frown, forcing my attention back to him.

  “What did you say, Charlie?”

  He shakes his head. “Um… I was simply answering a question you asked.”

  My eyes widen. I was talking? What the fuck?

  What was I babbling about?

  I really have to get a grip on myself. “Oh right, sorry I… I got distracted.”

  Charles chuckles, bending down to get a hold of one of my little curls and pulling at it lightly; his eyes crinkling. “Clearly… anyway, like I said, no: I haven’t heard nothing from Louise.”

  I nod absentmindedly, glad I didn’t say anything else out loud.

  “Cora? Weren’t you about to leave? Go study and all of that?” Charles gives me his best big-brother, concerned look and frowns.

  I guess when your nerdy sister is not all over her books before her finals, if you know her well you know something is wrong with her.

  I look away and take a deep breath. I have to tread carefully or he will badger the truth out of me. I think about telling him I’m in love with his best friend and that we kiss and feel myself flush a bit. Yeah that would go down well.

  I force a smile. “Oh yes… yes… right I was going. I’ve been losing a lot of sleep studying: I guess it’s really starting to show,” I say laughing nervously.

  My brother doesn’t look too convinced, he studies me for a long moment and opens his mouth to say something, then Aston appears at the door and I heave a sigh of relief.

  I need to get out of here.

  Charles smiles. “Hey, Ast… wasn’t sure I’ll see you today.”

  Aston answers the teasing grin with a glare.

  “Morning Charles, Cora…” he smiles at me and leans over to give me a short hug. “Ready for your finals?”

  I take a step back and smile at him. “As ready as I can be, I think.”

  “Where’s Ster? Didn’t he say he would stop here for a bit right about now, before heading to his other meeting?” Charles asks picking up a folder from his desk and I feel my heart skip a beat.

  Aston nods. “We shared the lift. I left him in the hall dealing with a call from The Pest,” he explains rolling his eyes.

  Okay, panic: here’s your green light.

  They shared the lift?

  As in Sterling is in here?

  Right now?

  Now I really really have to bail. Fast.

  My heart really reaves up and my breath gets so chopped it goes the wrong way and I start to cough.

  Charles comes near me and starts patting my back. “Munchkin are you okay?”

  I feel an uncontrollable blush creep over my face. “Y-yes… y-yes I am, just… air went the wrong way.”

  Aston walks straight to the mini fridge and bends to open it.

  When he comes back, he has a little bottle of Perrier in his hand and gives it to me. “Here’s some water, Cora.”

  I take it from him as I try to stop my hands from shaking and I drink a little sip. “Thank you. Well… guys I… I better go, lots to study still, you know. I’ll see you around.”

  Before they can even think of saying something back, I’m out of there; my sneakers skidding as I run through the hall.

  I need to be out of here like yesterday.

  Sterling can’t see me here.

  If he does, he will connect the dots.

  He is not stupid. I might be different from how he remembers me, but I’m a redhead with blue eyes showing up first at his best friend’s building and now at the main office of his best friends’ company?

  It would be too big of a coincidence to try and explain away.

  Plus, I can’t face him.

  Not after what happened, not after that kiss.

  Focus, I need to focus ad get the hell out of here.

  I almost crash into a couple of suits, narrowly escaping the collision, I flatten myself against the wall and force myself to think more clearly and breathe.

  I just need to reach the elevators and then it will be over.

  I just have to avoid the hall.

  Assuming Aston was talking about the main hall on this floor, the one where the receptionist sits.

  I can do it. It’s not so bad. Not so bad.

  I can do it. I can do it.

  I just have to make myself inconspicuous.

  Why, why did I have to wear a fuchsia shirt today of all days!

  I have to keep my eyes down. There are like a million people running around these corridors, he won’t see me. He won’t.

  I just have to stay calm.

  Here’s the plan: I’ll… I’ll get out of here ASAP and then I’ll stay in my dorm, I’ll be MIA until he goes back to England. I’ve done it before; I can do it again. He won’t stay above a week, he never does: he hates New York as much as he hates being on a plane.

  I can do it. I can.

  Chapter 7

  STERLING

  “I can’t believe this! You can’t be bleeding serious, you git!” I almost snarl into my mobile.

  I was barely able to sleep last night, I’m still trying to shake off the effects of my meeting with my mysterious sexy elevator bombshell and the less pleasant ones of my jet lag, to top it all off, I have spent the last three hours going over financial prospects, graphics and reports and now I have to deal with this fucking idiot’s latest scandal too?

  The Terrible Duo has barely had time to talk my ear off about yet another of his PDAs with a couple of Paris Hilton wannabes after his fight at that fundraiser and now he himself calls me to help him out of yet another mess, about another shag in public with some hussy involving snorting coke and getting bloody arrested no less!

  I can’t fucking deal with this right now.

  “I don’t have time for your dramatics, Nigel, unlike you I do have a job and a purpose in life aside from being a pain in everyone’s arse and a reckless layabout to boot. I’ll call one of our lawyers and one of our Press agents later.”

  I terminate the call with a sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose between thumb and forefinger and I close my eyes for a moment trying to control the surge of irritation clenching my guts —a common occurrence when I find myself in a conversation with my brother.

  I check the time on the screen of my phone and see that I have less than an hour before I have to get to my next meeting, but I still have ten minutes to kill so I can catch up with my friends and touch up on our strategy for the business lunch with a couple of potential venture partners we’re going to have later today.

  As the haze of anxiety pushed down on me by The Pest’s latest antics starts to fade away, my brain goes back to what it was attempting not to do but was doing anyway just before I got the bloody call: think about the bouncy red hair and curvy, heart-stopping, little body of the bombshell that has being filling my every thought since the second I saw her in that elevator.

  I haven’t decided yet what I’ll do if —when— I get my hands on her again. I don’t know if it would be better for my sanity to defuse her or just let her explode around me.

  I feel a tug from below my belt and I shake my head: can’t go down that road right now, not when I don’t even know how to find her yet, not when I should be thinking business.

  I put my mobile away and loosen the knot of my tie while trying to collect myself as best as I can; I turn around and start to walk in the direction of Chuck’s office when my chest stops someone who’s in a lot of hurry in their tracks.

  I barely stumble at the collision, but whoever I bumped into is not so lucky and is abou
t to topple over when my hands dart forward and grab onto their tiny shoulders.

  “Easy,” I mumble, smiling to myself and all I hear in reply is a little gasp.

  As I steady the small woman holding her against me, the first thing I notice are her bright hot pink sneakers. They make me frown a little ‘cause they’re definitely not the kind of shoes one would see around here on any given day, but that’s when I straighten up then I feel the air leave my lungs and my heart starts hammering away in my chest, ‘cause right in front of me, clutched in my arms, there’s the girl I’ve been thinking about non-stop for the last three days.

  As the shock wears off, I feel the grin on my lips stretch bigger and I vaguely think that this is one of those things, the things that aren’t supposed to happen in reality.

  Our eyes meet and lock and I can see the rosy blush running up her delicate neck and to her cheeks, but she’s not smiling.

  Why is she not smiling back?

  She looks startled, her big blue eyes seem unsure.

  She tries to pull away from me, but I don’t let her. I don’t think I would know how to let her go even if I wanted to.

  Without saying a word, I take her hand in mine and scan the hall. There’s an office space on this floor that Charles and Aston always leave at my disposal and it’s only a couple of doors away.

  When I tug at her hand, she looks uncertain again.

  I just look at her: we need to talk and she knows it.

  A little sigh leaves her lips and then she follows me.

  Thoughts of my friends waiting for me and my impending meeting flitter in my brain momentarily and are promptly beaten off and scattered away like annoying little flies.

  No way I’m going to let this girl out of my sight this time.

  “Why did you leave like that?” I ask, closing the door behind us and locking it for good measure.

  My little bombshell is looking anywhere but at me. I can see her throat working and the way she’s biting down on her full, pink lower lip is doing things to me that I can barely understand.

  No woman has ever had such an effect on me, especially not for such a little thing.

  She’s just nervous, she’s not trying to be coy or sexy, she’s not playing games, I know that, and maybe that’s why the simple sight of her, pouting and worrying her lip is so bloody hot to me.

  “I had to,” she says, her voice so soft I can barely hear her even in the thick silence around us.

  I reach for her, the back of my hand and fingers running over the silken skin of her jaw.

  “I was going to tear this city down to find you, you know?”

  She looks up and into my eyes and nods, “Yes.”

  We both act like it’s normal for me to say things like this and I can tell we both believe it is.

  It’s crazy, but I’m okay with it: I understand it and so does she.

  My fingers continue to stroke her face and I marvel at her softness. “Tell me your name.”

  It’s a simple question, but I can see the panic inflaming her expressive eyes.

  I start to ask her what’s wrong, but the words never make it out of my mouth because her lips are pressing down on it.

  I feel a wave of hot white need obliterating everything else and I respond to her kiss, my lips devouring hers, my tongue searching and caressing hers; her taste driving away all my questions.

  I’m well aware she’s kissing me to shut me up, but I can’t find it in my heart to complain, not when her little hands splay on either side of my face so fiercely, her body sags against mine with such abandon and tiny, whimpering noises of pleasure leave her throat to whisper on my lips as our kiss grows into something I can’t control and my dick, already at attention since I recognized her, hardens and lengthens in my slacks, punching against the unrelenting fabric.

  We are absolutely overdressed and not close enough for this.

  I bend over her and wrap her more securely in my arms, never breaking our kiss, and I pick her up.

  She is so small compared to me that in my arms, she feels like nothing more than a cloud would. For some reason this makes me think about how fragile she is and the idea clutches at my heart in a way I can’t explain. I’m sinking in a sea of lust as I hold her against my body and at the same time I feel a rush of protectiveness for her, something I’ve never felt in my life.

  She’s precious, she’s something I have to cherish, something I have to protect. I still don’t know her name and she’s so totally mine and there’s something behind the fragility of her frame: an energy, a strength, a light I can perceive, something I want to bask in for the rest of my life.

  I want to shield her from anything and everything in this world, but it’s not because she’s powerless, it’s because she is powerful, she has powers over me: she holds my heart in her hands and I’m okay with it.

  I didn’t even know I could give my heart away, but I can and I want her to have it so badly, nothing else matters.

  I lift her higher against me and her legs spread around my waist, cradling my erection to her hot center and the sensation is such that I feel my knees buckle.

  I move us back toward the door, our tongues still fencing and fighting and I pin her to it, pressing down on her with my body to keep her in place. My hand goes down to clasp one of her wide, curvy hips to steady her more and I deepen the kiss even more as the fingers of my other hand sneak between our bodies to cup one of her big, full breasts, ripping a hissing moan from her lips. I swallow it as I have done with every other little sigh and sound coming from her lovely mouth.

  I squeeze her perky mound and I feel her tense up at the touch, my fingers pluck and tease at the hard, little nipple blooming through the purplish pink shirt.

  I groan low in my throat and tighten my hold on her, driving my erection even higher and harder against her jean-covered pussy.

  She feels so delicious in my mouth and so soft and perfect under my fingertips that I can’t get enough and my rock-hard cock is loving it.

  I need skin. Now.

  I leave her lips behind to nip and suckle at her delectable neck as I rip the row of tiny, rose-shaped buttons in the middle of her chest and I watch them fly all over the place. I listen to the clink they make as they roll around us on the marble floor and I feel a satisfaction with the simple action that I can’t account for.

  My eyes zero on the most marvelous pair of breasts nature ever shaped on a woman contained in a delicate, lacy pink and white bra and I gulp down air as I follow the blush on her skin sliding down and over them and disappear in the heavenly valley between them.

  “Fuck, you’re so beautiful…” I mumble, my voice so raw and roughened I can barely recognize it.

  I run a finger between the bountiful mounds and I smile when I feel them clasp it tightly with her fast intake of breath.

  A million of deliciously filthy images of those very breasts clutching at something entirely different and unequivocally mine exploding behind my eyes and making my cock lurch forward again.

  I watch practically in adoration as she moans on a sigh and her eyelids flutter close and then open again, the blue glancing up at me even brighter now.

  I kiss her lips again, my hands working the clasp of her bra open —as much as I’m hating any offending piece of fabric hiding her body from my eyes, this is too pretty to ruin.

  I let it fall down and I feel my mouth water and dry up at the same time at the sight of her exquisite pointy nipples. They are a rosy shade of pink so pretty I almost feel like crying.

  I thumb one and watch it pucker and cover in goosebumps under my touch. I lower my mouth to it and suck it between my lips, flicking my tongue over and around it and my mysterious sexy bombshell goes up into flames, her body tensing up and going rigid in pleasure.

  “Fuck: you’re sensitive, so lovely,” I murmur around her nipple and start to nibble gently on it; the barest hint of my teeth on her skin makes her jump and clutch
at me so hard I can feel her nails digging in my back through my clothes.

  Having her in my arms and in my mouth is so damn good, I can feel pre-cum already beading the tip of my cock. My balls are already starting to draw up —I’m usually the kind of guy who loves the main course and likes to get to it sooner rather than later, but I could spend eternity licking and kissing her body and never grow tired of giving her pleasure: I’ve never enjoyed foreplay more in my life.

  I trail kisses back and forth between her breasts, palming and stroking their succulent weight; the delicate scent of lavender reaching my nostrils and doing little to calm my raging cock.

  “I’m pretty sure I could make you come just sucking on these scrumptious breasts, but I’m also positive you’re hiding an even more delicious treat from me and that’s what I want to taste.”

  “Oh, God, yes,” she moans, her compact body squirming against mine.

  I reach down between us and undo the button and zip of her capri jeans all the way, pushing them over her curvaceous hips and down her legs.

  I take a peek at the pink lace threaded over the white silk of her knickers and the mere vision is enough to tighten my balls even more.

  I let her slide down and push her flat against the door again, her jeans bunched around her pink Converse. I don’t bother with getting her completely naked: there will be time for it later. I need to get to her cunt now, there’s no more time for pleasantries.

  I look up at her to make sure she’s still with me as I pet her over her panties, feeling the wetness already seeping through the silk; the flimsy material is completely molded to her swollen lips and I can see the shape of her tiny clit peek from between them.

  I rub it softly, making her body wiggle and tremble, her breath coming in short, aroused puffs of air.

  I press my face to her panty-covered pussy and take a big whiff, my eyes nearly crossing at her sweet, feminine fragrance, my cock straining even more painful now with absolutely no more room to grow in my pants.

  “You smell absolutely divine, my little bombshell. I bet you taste even better,” I say, kissing her mound and looking up at her with a smirk.