Kimberly Dean - Solace in Scandal

Her body relaxed deeper into the softness of the bed. Warmth was finally settling over the room. Instead of the bite of a chill, she now felt the softness of the sweatshirt against her bare arms. The hood kissed the side of her neck, making it arch. The teasing was gentle, but it surrounded her, especially down low.

The friction against her thighs was hot, the ribbed material almost abrasive. She couldn’t help the rocking motion of her hips. When the cool zipper dragged over the front of her panties, she moaned. The sensation was so shocking, her hand dove between her legs to stop it.

Or to keep it.

Her fingers stalled when she found wetness. The nylon of her panties was damp all the way through. She explored carefully, her thighs falling open as she delved deeper. Her entire body gave a shudder that had nothing to do with a chill when she touched the most sensitive part of herself.

‘No,’ she whispered into the slowly overheating room.

It shouldn’t be like this. Not with him. Not with the scandal heating up all over again.

But she couldn’t help herself as her hand skimmed away from her core, only to come back again, this time under her panties. She let out a whimper. Her flesh was plump and warm. Sensitive. Her heels dug into the mattress as her body bowed. The sweatshirt was all around her, not letting go.

She explored herself with just the pads of her fingers. The butterfly touches were creating zaps of energy that filled her whole body. Her breasts felt heavy and full and her nipples beaded tightly. She could feel the weight of the fleece upon them. With her breaths at a pant, she circled her tender opening. Even knowing it was coming, her hips surged when she pressed a finger inside.

‘Heaven help me,’ she whispered.

It wasn’t heaven that was going to give her what she needed. From that point on, everything became a blur. Her feelings, the complications, the public fascination, the slippage of time … One finger became two, and her hips were lunging as she remembered the hunger on the wolf’s face. The intensity of his sexual gaze. Perspiration broke out on her forehead, and cries of pleasure left her lips.

This was impossible. Dangerous.

Yet when the teeth of the hoodie’s zipper raked across her sensitive nub, she arched off the bed, caught in a scorching orgasm. The sensation clutched her, dragging on as the fleece brushed insistently against her bottom. It let her go in degrees until she sagged onto the bed, her body limp.

The blur of her consciousness slid directly into fatigue. The little sleep she’d gotten the night before combined with the orgasm’s drugging release. Her head rolled on the pillow and, once again, she smelled that sexy cologne. The hum of the heater lulled her.

Despite her worries and fears, she was soon asleep, with Alex Wolfe’s sweatshirt wrapped around her, holding her tight.

‘I’m fine, Mom. Really.’ Elena stepped out of the lake house and tucked the key into her pocket. The ever-changing fall weather had swung around. The sky was a brilliant blue, although the temperature still had a bite to it. That slippery slope into autumn was getting steeper and steeper.

‘But you’re trapped there.’

‘On a gazillion acres of beautiful private property,’ she teased. Still, she gave a shudder to shake off the feeling of cabin fever. Her mother knew her too well. The fact that she couldn’t leave – not without serious repercussions – was straining her nerves. She looked over the trees and the rippling water. It was a beautiful trap, but a trap nonetheless.

‘Those darn bottom feeders,’ her mother muttered. ‘Please, honey. Just brazen through them and come out here to stay with me in San Diego.’

Elena sighed. ‘You know I can’t do that.’

She’d already tried running away once. The paparazzi had tracked her down here, although they didn’t know it. There was nothing that would keep them from finding her at her mother’s condo, and this place offered much more protection, unconventional as it was. Besides, a plane ticket would set her back financially and she couldn’t afford the time it would take to pack up and move across the country.

‘But you’re stuck there with that reprobate.’

The edge in her mother’s normally dulcet tone sounded harsh against Elena’s ear, and her gaze swept along the balcony of the manor. It was empty and she saw no movement behind the windows. The ‘reprobate’ must be out on one of his walks again.

‘He sticks to his house and I stay in mine.’

‘So you haven’t had to interact with him?’

Interact.

Well, that was a difficult word to define. The only time they’d spoken was the day they’d run into each other at the fishing spot, but there had been a lot more going on between them than words. Her fingers froze over the zipper she was toying with and she pulled her hand away as if she’d just touched fire. She needed to remember to drop the hoodie off with Leonard on her way back.

‘We’ve bumped into each other a few times.’ On the trails, but that was something her mother didn’t need to know. Alone in the remote, dense woods … away from any other human souls … It had happened twice more since that first encounter. Both times, that prickly awareness had returned.

Both times she’d scurried home to safety.

And hot, uncomfortable thoughts.

‘You’ve talked to him?’ Yvonne gasped. ‘What did he say to you?’

‘Nothing,’ Elena said quickly. She looked to the sky and sighed. She hadn’t wanted to worry her mom about this. ‘We don’t speak.’

No, they didn’t speak. They watched each other, sensed each other, and circled. ‘We don’t have anything to say to each other.’

‘You be careful of him. Elena, nobody knows the full story yet. Nobody knows what happened to his grandfather, and you’re there all alone with him.’

‘I’m not alone, I have Leonard.’

Yvonne let out a frustrated sound, but it cut off on a downward note. When Leonard had first made the offer of shelter, she’d encouraged it.

‘I spend all my time in the lake house,’ Elena said soothingly. ‘I’ve got a lot of work to do. Remember? My PhD is our goal.’

Her mother blew out a breath. ‘Fine, you’re right, but I don’t like it.’

‘Neither do I, but that can’t be helped right now.’

‘If your father had just –’

‘But he didn’t.’ He hadn’t ever lived up to their expectations, and they both knew it. They both fell quiet for a long moment.

‘We need to talk more about this, but I have to get to work. Thea didn’t tell me she was running short on pastry bags,’ her mom finally muttered. ‘You call me if you need anything.’

‘I will.’ There wasn’t anything her mother could do about the situation, the reporters or especially Alex Wolfe, but talking to her always made things better. ‘Have a good day.’

‘You, too, honey.’

‘Bye.’ Elena tucked the phone into her pocket and inhaled the fresh air. She’d been cooped up for so long she couldn’t stand it any more. She needed to move around. She had to think about things other than supply, demand, stock evaluation and market volatility. She loved her studies, but sometimes they sucked her under.

Instead of going round the lake, she headed up the garden path. It was quiet, pretty and ruthlessly manicured. She hadn’t seen her manor mate on this part of the grounds. He kept mainly to the lake and the untamed woods, sometimes exploring for hours. She’d started to keep track of him from the window in her office, when she managed to spot him. He was like his namesake in the way he moved around, silent and elusive.

The muscles in her thighs fired as she walked up the limestone steps on the steeper part of the hill. She was beginning to understand why he spent so much time outside. She’d only been sequestered in the lake house for a week. He’d been in prison for a year and a half. She couldn’t imagine what that would do to a person’s mind, especially a Type A, determined, forceful man like him.