Читать книгу Bloody Awful - Georgia Evans - Страница 12

She was not getting cold feet over this. Alright, she did have cold feet but of the physical sort. It was cold as a tomb in here and she suspected the sheets were damp into the bargain, but it was nine hundred percent better than trying to find a shelter.

Gloria was debating getting out of bed and putting on her cardigan, when the door opened.

Andrew came in, and she felt warm all over as he met her eyes. He wasn’t the least unhappy to see her in bed. Good. His eyes widened as his rather lovely mouth curled up in a very slow smile. Her goosebumps weren’t just because of the cold. She grinned back, only half noticing the ancient waiter carrying a load of blankets and a chambermaid bearing a pair of stone hot water bottles.

Gloria did her best to look calm and unconcerned as if she habitually stayed in hotels without luggage and the presence of hotel staff in the room was a matter of course.

If the burning in her face was anything to go by, she failed utterly.

“Where do you want the blankets, sir?” the waiter asked.

“Er…Put them on the chair.” Andrew replied. “We’ll get them when we need them. Many thanks.”

“No trouble, sir. We only wish we had coal for the fire but with all the shortages, heating is kept for the ground floor.”

“That’s alright.” Andrew seemed as eager for them to scoot off as she was.

“Hot water bottles, madam?” the chambermaid asked.

“In the bed, please.” Where else? Gloria took one and held it close, while the maid slipped the other down near her feet.

“Will that be all, sir?” the old waiter asked.

“Yes, rather. Thank you.”

“Morning tea, sir?”

Would they never leave?

“Yes, I suppose so.” He looked at Gloria. “Eight sound alright?”

“How about seven thirty? We should try to get back to Brytewood by nine.” Andrew nodded. “What about buses?” she asked.

“We’ve a timetable in reception,” the maid replied, “but often they run late after a raid. Detours you know.”

She could imagine.

“Right then. Tea at seven-thirty, please,” Andrew said and as good as bundled them out of the door. Closing it behind them, he smiled at Gloria.

Now, she wasn’t cold one little bit. Heat flushed right down to her toes. Well, not quite to her toes. It pooled a good bit higher as a thrill fluttered between her legs.

“Fancy a drink?” Andrew asked, holding up their unfinished bottle of wine.

She bit back, “Not really. I fancy you!” and nodded. “Thanks.”

“I rescued it from the dining room,” he went on. “It was sitting undisturbed on the table right where we left it. Not a drop spilled.”

“I was thinking earlier, I wished we’d brought it down to the shelter, but now’s even better.”

He handed her a glass of the deep red wine and poured one for himself before raising his glass. “Here’s to us.”

She wasn’t about to wonder what that meant. Now was all that mattered. Blame it on hormones, shock or unbridled lust, she wanted Andrew Barron in the worst, and most likely best, possible way. “To us.” She raised her glass and sipped, not breaking contact with his gorgeous blue eyes.

“Look,” he said. “I’ve got to nip down the hallway. Be back in a jiffy, I promise.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Except perhaps into her dreams, as he closed the door and left her alone in the now decidedly chilly room. Who gave a fig? Just as long as he didn’t get lost on the way back, she’d be happy. This was outrageous, definitely scandalous and without a doubt, truly wonderful.

Funny how a deluge of doubts evaporated with a few bombs. Alright, not funny for the poor people who get it and not funny over Andrew’s car, but they were both alive, young, attracted to each other, and delighted to be together.

He was back in minutes, his jacket over his arm and his shirt hanging out.

“I hope you didn’t meet anyone on the way back.”

He blushed. Just a wee bit but it somehow reassured that he didn’t do this every weekend. “I think we’re the only ones up here. The boozy lot from the bar all left, probably late for some curfew. And the other couple in the restaurant had hied off home. We have the place to ourselves,” he paused, “Gloria.”

She swallowed. It helped ease her tight throat. Sort of. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Yes. It’s like the Arctic here and the bathroom…”

“I know. Freezing. Made my lean-to bathroom seem positively cozy by comparison.” Damn it! She did not come here to talk about deficiencies in comfort of her cottage. “It’s warmer in bed and I put one of the hot water bottles on your side.”

Hardly seductive but it didn’t seem to put him off. “You’re a brick, Gloria.”

He unbuttoned his shirt and she, shameless Gloria that she was, watched, all but mesmerized as he slipped each button from its buttonhole. As if aware of her scrutiny, he turned his back and draped his shirt over the chair, giving her a lovely view of his broad shoulders. A view much enhanced as he pulled his vest over his head and she got an eyeful of his naked back.

She clenched her fists to restrain the sudden urge to run her hands over that beautiful skin and trace the muscles in his arms.

As he sat down to take off his shoes, she unclenched her fists. Darn it, very soon she had every intention of touching him, of feeling him skin to skin and running her hands all over his luscious body. Just watching his arms as he untied his shoelaces and eased his shoes off sent her pulse racing.

He pulled his sock off, set his bare foot on the faded red carpet, crossed the other foot over his thigh and started all over again.

She was beginning to understand the appeal of striptease acts and she had her own personal solo performance.

He stood. There was a soft metallic sound as he unbuckled his belt.

Gloria knew it was rude to stare but really, how could anyone not? She’d never realized just how long it took a man to unbutton his flies. Was he taking his time to tease, or was he…shy?

That she didn’t think. A shy man would have insisted on separate rooms.

Ooh! He bent to take off his trousers and gave her a lovely view of his nice firm posterior. Good thing he couldn’t see her lick her lips. Or maybe he’d be flattered. The look on his face as he crossed the room toward her wasn’t that of a self-conscious man.

“Andrew,” she said. It came out a bit like a squeak but she didn’t try to hold back the grin. She could just imagine him without the white cotton interlock drawers.

He had the bottle in his hand. “Want to top off your glass?”

“Not really, I’d rather you got in and kept me warm.” Forward, yes, but darn it, hot water bottles only warmed so much.

“I can do both.”

He could indeed. Sitting beside him in bed, sipping wine wasn’t a bad way to spend an evening. But she could think of better. “What are you going to do about the car?” Why in heaven’s name did she ask that?”

“I’ll worry about it in the morning. It isn’t going anywhere. Ever. Apart from the junkyard. Maybe they can use the metal to build a Spitfire.”

She did not want to talk about planes or bombs or war. Not now. She swigged down the entire glass. It would go right to her head very, very soon, so…“Kiss me, Andrew, please.”

She must have put the glass down somewhere. He probably tossed his across the room, wine and all. His hands came to her shoulders, she caught the scent of wine on his breath and his lips met hers. She kissed back, excitement rippling through her at his touch. He was warm and male and heady as the wine on his lips and she almost swore when he broke the kiss.

“Sure you want this, Gloria? I can sleep in the armchair if you want.”

There were times a man should be a perfect gentleman. This was not one of them. “No, you won’t!” Just in case he didn’t quite get the message, she wrapped her arms around his neck and this time, she kissed him. Pressing her lips on his as she opened her mouth. He hesitated, maybe one sixteenth of a second, before he warmed to her kiss, taking her mouth as his tongue found hers and she let out a little sigh of utter pleasure as he pulled her close.

When they came up for air, she took a deep breath and grinned at him. “Oh, Andrew!”

“You are utterly wonderful,” he replied, stroking the hair off her face. “Wonderful.”

She kissed his chin, his lower lip and his mouth, needing, wanting more. Much more.

Seemed Andrew was of the same mind. He kissed back, deepening it, caressing her tongue with his, holding her close. His hands, stroking her back and shoulders, were cold but she felt warmth anyway. Heat, need and lust poured through her in a wild spate of desire. His hands slipped the straps of her petticoat off her shoulders. He paused a moment or two as he looked at her breasts. Then, with a smile curling his mouth, he stroked his hands over her breasts. She couldn’t hold back the groan as her nipples went hard.

His touch ignited something wild inside her—a rush of wanting that sent her mind into a spin. Her petticoat, bunched around her waist, was in the way. She wanted him skin to skin. She wanted him inside her. She wanted him as close as man and woman could be. She wriggled her hips, taking her hands off him to ease down the crumpled silk and kick it away.

He helped her.

Burrowing under the covers, he stroked her belly and thighs and the cluster of now-damp curls between her legs. Gloria rolled on her side, pressing herself against him, running her foot up and down his leg, feeling his erection against her.

That damn underwear had to go.

“Take these off!” Her hands tugged at the elastic and he obliged with a bit of shifting and wiggling of his own. Tossing the underwear across the room was a bit flamboyant but who’d complain? It just added to the moment.

The real moment came when she stroked the side of his impressively hard cock. Dear heaven, he was so erect. She slipped under the bedclothes, glad he’d left the light on. What she would have missed if they were in the dark!

As she caressed him, he stroked her breasts, then found his way back between her legs, arousing her until she moaned and rocked her hips.

This was wild and wonderful but…“Andrew, I want you!”

“Love, we should make this last.”

“Why? Next time can be slow! Not now!”

She didn’t understand the urgency, the raging need, but wasn’t about to fight it. She wanted him. “Now.”

“Hang on a tick, Gloria. Better get a French letter.”

He’d brought them with him? He planned this? So what? Darn good thing he had as she hadn’t. The bed cooled fast without him but he was back in seconds, the paper envelope already open.

“Won’t be long.”

She pulled back the blankets to watch as he rolled the pale rubber over his erection. She was tempted to offer help. Next time.

He was ready.

So was she.

She put her leg over his thigh and rubbed her body against his. His hands cupped her breasts, holding them steady. He bent his head and kissed her left breast. She thought she’d leave the bed. Her hips and chest did as she arched her back to bring her breast closer to him. When he lifted his mouth her peaked nipple hardened even more in the chill air. As she caught her breath, or at least tried to, he went for her right breast, stroking with his tongue as his hand played the other one.

Her hands went wild, stroking his back, his hips, his bottom. She ran kisses over his chest and shoulders as she grasped his hips to pull him closer.

He rolled her on her back, settling between her legs. There was no longer any chill in the room. Just wild heat stirred by sexual need. His erection stroked between her vulva as he rocked his hips against her.

Stroking was nowhere near enough. Not now. She spread her legs wide, moving the wretched cast to one side and bending her good leg so her foot was flat on the bed to angle her hips toward him.

He understood her need completely. Pausing only to open her gently and ease inside her. “You are so wet,” he said, “wet for me.”

And he was making her wetter by the second. As he stroked her nub, her hips rocked instinctively, her body responding to his need. He shifted so his cock was right between her lower lips. He rocked, and she felt sweet pressure against her opening. She arched toward him and he was inside.

She cried out. It was too much. It was wonderful. It was perfect. He filled her. Stretched her. Mounted her. She was gasping, panting, her body arching to bring him deeper, her hips rocking in her need.

“Ready, love?” he asked.

Ready? She was so far beyond ready, she didn’t think there was a word for it. “Please, Andrew. Please!”

He began to move, back and forth in a certain, steady rhythm as passion built between them. She kissed his shoulder and tasted sweat. She nipped his skin, holding on with lips and teeth as he increased the pace, until he was driving her hard and wonderfully. Wild sensations burgeoned, possessing her brain, filling her spirit. Need and pleasure roared in her mind. She was letting out cries, gasps and whimpers as her climax grew, peaked and burst in a wild cascade of pleasure and a great cry of happiness. He continued, driving her higher until he came with a wild whoop of satisfaction and collapsed on her.

He made to move. But she grabbed hard and held him close. Not wanting him to leave her, wanting to feel his cock between her legs forever, until dawn and beyond.

“I’m too heavy,” he said. “I’ll squash you.”

She laughed. “I want to feel you inside. I like being squashed.”

He lay on her, taking some of his weight on his arms, but they were skin to skin. Hot and sweaty. What better way to spend a cold October night? She couldn’t help the groan of disappointment as he softened inside her and withdrew.

“You are utterly and totally wonderful, Gloria,” he said and kissed her.

“Wonderful yourself, Andrew. My love.”

She was vaguely aware of him shifting and sitting up. He must have disposed of the French letter. Didn’t take him long. He was back, his arms around her. She snuggled close, and shut her eyes.

Whatever tumult and trouble awaited outside this haven of a room, for this moment in time, they were both at utter peace.