The Black Sheep's Secret Child

He started to speak. She shushed him and captured his face between her hands to keep him still while she flicked her tongue against his lower lip and then pulled it between her teeth and sucked gently. Strong fingers dug into her thighs hard enough to leave bruises. She smiled as she kept up the tantalizing seduction of his mouth.

Earlier when he’d pulled her against him, she’d felt the familiar square of tin that held breath mints and a little something extra in his suit coat pocket. Now she reached for the box and slipped it free. Trent heard the familiar rattle and leaned away from her kiss.

Savannah sat up straight and held the tin between them. “I see you haven’t changed your habits.”

“I like being prepared.”

She popped the lid and slipped a mint into her mouth. Sharp and cool, the peppermint flavor exploded on her tongue, making it tingle. “Want one?”

Eyes locked on hers, he opened his mouth and let her feed him one. While the mint dissolved, they regarded each other in silence. His gaze held challenge, but curiosity, as well. He wanted to know if she intended to get to what else the tin held. Savannah savored his anticipation. He liked being in charge. It’s why he hadn’t stuck around to be a part of his family’s business, but had struck out on his own.

No one was going to boss around Trent Caldwell.

But Savannah had found him to be a wonderful partner in bed. For as often as he’d swept her into his passion and demanded her surrender, there had always been opportunities when he let her take the lead. Because of this, her confidence had flourished, not only with regard to her sexuality, but also in her worth as an individual.

The heavy pulse of desire between her thighs hadn’t diminished one bit during this exchange. In fact, as she grew more committed to this next step, her hunger for him had only increased.

Savannah plucked out the square foil package and held it up. “Only one? You used to carry at least two.” She might have sounded confident, but she wasn’t. Courtney Day might not have thought twice about a quickie with her sexy ex, but Savannah was rapidly losing her nerve.

“What makes you think I haven’t used one already today?”

Trent had a healthy sexual appetite, and she wouldn’t be surprised if he’d already had sex with three other women. She shouldn’t care. But it hurt all the same. Several deep breaths later she’d pushed down panic and dismay. This couldn’t become about what she’d had and lost. She needed a brief interlude to escape her troubles and there was no better man to rock her world than Trent.

But why was he baiting her? She could see from his flat stare that he expected her to back off.

“For a second I forgot who I was dealing with.” She closed the tin with a metallic snap and tossed it aside.

Aware that he was scrutinizing her every move, she placed the wrapped condom between her teeth and set her hands to loosening his belt. Up until now she’d been doing a good job of appearing confident. But beneath Trent’s unreadable gaze, she felt a tiny fizz of nervous energy dance along her spine, making her fingers clumsy. Trent made no attempt to help her. In fact he didn’t move at all, except for the unsteady rise and fall of his chest.

At long last Savannah slid down his zipper and freed him. His erection sprang into her hands, eager for her attention. Overwhelmed by joy at what they were about to do, she paused for a moment, fingers coasting along his hot silken length. With a half smile she tore open the wrapper and unrolled the condom, sheathing him. His head had fallen back against the couch while his breath hissed out between clenched teeth. He squeezed his eyes shut and held perfectly still, every muscle in his body tense beneath her.

In her stylish but conservatively cut dress, Savannah might not have appeared as if she’d planned for a hot night at the club, but she’d chosen a red lace bra and thong set to wear underneath. Had she thought in her wildest dreams she would be in this position? Perhaps her subconscious had wanted this all along.

Before she could change her mind about what she was about to do, Savannah cupped Trent’s erection in her palm, slid aside her thong and brought his tip into contact with her wet heat.

For the first time in several seconds Trent shifted. He cupped her butt in both hands and moved her forward and down until he was sheathed inside her. They groaned simultaneously as she came to rest, fully seated on his lap once again. Savannah put her hands on his shoulders, needing him for balance as her head began to spin.

This wasn’t just sex. It had never been just sex between them. But there were no words of love or affectionate looks exchanged. This was a crazy, impulsive interlude that she desperately needed. Her goal was oblivion, and being with Trent always enabled her to forget her problems. Even when what was troubling her was Trent himself.

They rocked together in a familiar rhythm, maintaining a steady, relaxed pace.

“Take your hair down,” Trent demanded, his voice an unsteady rasp.

Happy to oblige, she reached up and pulled out half a dozen pins and demolished the smooth, controlled hairstyle with a languid shake of her head. Long blond waves tumbled around her shoulders and tickled her cheeks. Trent had always loved her hair. He sank his fingers into the thick silky mass and brought her lips back to his.

* * *

Trent wasn’t sure how he’d come to be on his couch buried deep inside Savannah, her tongue dancing with his in a passionate kiss, her manner every bit as wild as he remembered. Another woman might have pleaded with him for help or screamed abuse when he refused to fall in with her plans. He’d had only the briefest suspicion that Savannah intended to seduce him into helping her before he rejected the idea. Her hunger for him was as all-consuming as his for her.

That didn’t make this a reunion between lovers. Not in the traditional sense. Sixteen months of bitter silence lay between them. Part of him didn’t want to open the door to her. The part of him that did was in charge at the moment. Maybe what they were doing was saying goodbye. But as her teeth nipped at his lower lip, driving him closer to orgasm, he knew this brief taste of her had only revived his unquenchable desire.

Trent fought to make the moment last. But he was only able to hold on until he could determine that she hovered on the brink of a climax.

Her soft keening and the accelerated rhythm of her hips pushed him over the edge and they came together. Heart thundering, Trent sat perfectly still, his body drained, his heart twisted wreckage. Damn her. She’d made him do what he promised he wouldn’t. He’d let her back in. His first instinct as he labored to breathe was to kiss her long and deep and never let her go. His second instinct was to remove her from his lap and kick her out of his office.

He did neither.

Instead, he sank his fingers into his hair, let his head fall back and stared at the ceiling. It was the pose of a man wondering what the hell he’d done.

Displaying no regret, Savannah pushed off the couch and got to her feet. Hips swaying in unconscious allure, she crossed to the bar and found a towel, bringing it back to him. By the time Trent had cleaned up and disposed of the condom, she was putting the last hairpin into her impromptu updo. The only signs of how she’d spent the last ten minutes were her flushed cheeks and smeared lipstick.

He glanced up and down the length of her as she stepped back into her tall heels, and all he saw was a tranquil, confident woman. Gone was the femme fatale. Trent couldn’t decide if he was glad or sorry.

“This doesn’t change anything.” His tone was brusque, his words more clipped than he’d intended. “I’m not going back to LA to bail out West Coast Records.”

She looked at him askance, her eyebrows lifted in disbelief. “That’s not what this was about.”

“No?” But he knew she wasn’t lying. Savannah frequently ended up in trouble because she wasn’t calculating. The fact that he’d just accused her of unscrupulous behavior demonstrated that their unexpected sexual encounter had thrown him off his game. He hated that. It was time to take the situation back in his hands. “Where are you staying?”

His question surprised her. Something flickered in her eyes. “I’m not taking you to my hotel suite, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

It wasn’t what he’d been thinking, but now that she’d mentioned it, that sounded like a great idea. He’d like to strip that conservative dress off her and make love to her properly. But it was too late for that. Two years, one marriage and his brother’s son too late.

“Where are you staying?” he repeated, letting her see that his patience was waning.

“Upstairs.”

Cobalt had been Trent’s first choice of location when he and his business partners decided to open Club T’s. The hotel’s owner, JT Stone, was a brilliant businessman with a great reputation and solid ethics. The rent was high for this exclusive real estate, but the hotel drew a chic crowd with deep pockets who liked to party and could easily afford Club T’s high-end table service.

“I’ll walk you back to your suite.”

“There’s no need.”

Savannah wouldn’t meet his eyes, and it was the first indication Trent had that the encounter had ruffled her composure.

“It’s two in the morning.” And Trent had no intention of returning to the club tonight. He’d lost his taste for partying the instant Savannah had appeared at his table. All he wanted was to head home, pour himself a liberal amount of scotch and brood. “And you’ve already had one run-in with a man you couldn’t handle.”

She gave an offhand shrug. “I think I handled you just fine.”

He fought back an admiring smile. “I meant the guy in the bar.”

“Oh, him.” She shook her head. “I was on the verge of crushing his toe with my heel.”

Unsure if she was kidding, Trent caught her by the elbow and turned her in the direction of the office door. He led the way through the back halls of the club and hotel to a service elevator. Once inside he turned an expectant expression on her. Rather than tell him her floor, she reached to push the button herself.

“It’s no good, you know,” Trent said as the car began to move upward. “If you try to bring me in at West Coast Records, Siggy will fight you with everything he has.”

“But you’re exactly what the company needs. You’re brilliant. Your father and Rafe never understood that.”

Trent stared at her in bemusement. She’d always been on his side. How had two people who only had each other’s best interest at heart failed so miserably at being together?

Because he didn’t want what she did. Family for him meant nothing but heartache.

“You’re wasting your time and mine. Let the company fold. You and Dylan will be fine without it. I’ll make sure of that.”

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