Читать книгу Modern Romance March 2015 Collection 2 - Кэтти Уильямс, Jane Porter, Cathy Williams - Страница 17
ОглавлениеTHE KING-SIZE BED that had been her hiding place for nearly two weeks seemed suddenly to have expanded until now she felt as though it was consuming all the space in the room. It was the only thing she could see.
Milly’s body was on fire. ‘Sexually daring and adventurous’ were not descriptions that could ever have been applied to her. The truth was that she had never felt particularly bothered by her lack of experience in this field. She had kissed a few guys and had been content enough to leave it right there. Now, though, her head was filled with possibilities.
‘This...isn’t a good idea.’ Common sense half-heartedly tried to prevail but Lucas recognised it for what it was: a flimsy attempt to hold off something that felt inevitable. He had already dumped his jacket downstairs and his fingers were hooked under the polo shirt, ready to yank it over his head. He was breathing fast as he stared at her, not trusting himself to get any closer, because that flimsy attempt at common sense wouldn’t stand a chance.
‘Why not?’ Milly asked with reckless abandon. She took a couple of steps towards him.
They hadn’t switched on the light, and the bedroom was bathed in pale moonlit rays sifting through the big windows. His beautiful face was a mix of shadows and angles, his eyes glittering as he watched her nervous progress.
He felt nervous, as well. Unbelievable.
‘Don’t you fancy me at all?’ she asked, placing the palm of her hand on his chest and feeling the steady beating of his heart underneath it.
‘What sort of stupid question is that?’ Lucas returned roughly. He covered her hand with his and guided it to the bulging hardness of his erection pushing against the zip of his jeans.
Milly shivered, unbelievably turned on. So turned on that she forgot to be scared that this was going to be her first time. With trembling fingers, she hitched down the zip and heard his sharp, indrawn breath with a jab of pure satisfaction.
She had taken a chance, had been prepared to stomach his rejection because her own shameless craving felt like something requiring satisfaction before she packed her bags and walked away. The feel of his arousal was proof that he wanted her, too, even if he didn’t think it was a good idea.
With a growl of impatience, Lucas pulled off the polo shirt, revealing a bronzed, muscular body that was as exquisite and as perfect as the rest of him. Any wonder she had dumped all her reservations? Breathing shallow, she ran her fingers lightly over his torso, pausing to circle the tight, brown nipples.
‘We’re supposed to be lovers...’ She looked up at him with a wry smile. ‘Aren’t we?’
‘How is it that you haven’t felt this pressing need to touch me before?’
‘Who says I haven’t?’
Lucas’s smile was triumphant. Common sense flew through the window. He began unbuttoning the tiny pearl buttons, taking his time, until the top half of the dress was gaping, allowing him to see tantalising glimpses of her soft breasts.
‘You weren’t wearing a bra,’ he murmured huskily. ‘That was the first thing I noticed when I saw you this evening.’
‘I had no idea you even noticed what I was wearing, considering you didn’t say anything.’
‘The sight left me speechless.’
Milly smiled. ‘Speechless in a good way?’
‘Speechless in a way that made me want to do what I’m about to do now.’ He hooked his fingers under the spaghetti straps of the dress and slowly pulled himself down until he was feasting his eyes on the proud jut of her breasts.
Milly stood absolutely still, which was the only way she could think of to restrain herself from pulling the dress back into position. She didn’t want to think of all the lovely bodies he had looked at before because she was not built like one of them.
‘Don’t say anything.’
‘Not hard. I find...’ He circled one rosy nipple with his finger and felt her shudder. ‘I find myself without words...’
‘I’m not tall and skinny. I’m short and well-endowed... Sorry.’
Lucas looked at her in genuine amazement at her self-denigration. ‘I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous in all my life.’
‘Thank you for that.’ Romantic fool she might be but she could also be as realistic as he assumed she was not, and she was realistic enough to know that what he saw was the novelty of a differently shaped body and a differently fashioned personality from those to which he was accustomed. But the moment would be lost if she embarked on that sort of conversation. It was a topic best left alone.
She walked shakily towards the bed and seconds later he joined her, tossing the condom he had sourced onto the small bedside table.
‘Take off the dress,’ he commanded. ‘No, just let it fall open... Yes, like that. I want to see you...’ He straddled her prone body and just watched, savouring the tight buds of her nipples. He removed his jeans and enjoyed the way her eyes skittered away from his pulsing erection before looking once again. ‘Feel free to touch.’ He barely recognised his voice.
Milly gulped and tentatively tugged down the boxers. He was impressive in his girth, his erection as big, as powerful and as striking as he was. She took it in her hand and instinct took over. At first, she kept her eyes half-closed, but then opened them and looked at the shiny head in her hand then, growing braver, she sat up and took him into her mouth.
She tasted him and felt him shudder, move and arch back. His fingers had coiled in her long hair. The salty taste of him was an aphrodisiac, sending waves of pleasure and yearning through her in equal measure.
She moaned when he pushed her back. Her underwear was wet, her own arousal soaking through the cotton, and she wriggled and kicked herself free of it, parting her legs in an attempt to cool between them.
‘You’re burning up for me.’ Lucas slipped exploring fingers into her and her breath caught in her throat as he found her clitoris and began rubbing it, gentle, persistent strokes that made her arch her body up, transported like she had never been before in her life.
She didn’t want to come. Not like this. She pulled him to her and kissed him and Lord...it was beautiful. It was a kiss meant to be lost in. His tongue against hers was gentle and demanding at the same time. She could taste the essence of the guy who wanted to move slowly and yet was desperate to sate his hunger. His steel shaft brushed against her and she opened her legs a little wider so that she could feel its hardness against the parted, delicate folds. She moaned softly into his mouth, quivering when his erection pressed against her clitoris, threatening to push her over the edge.
She broke apart and captured his face between her hands. ‘There’s something I should tell you.’
‘Now isn’t the time for sharing confidences,’ Lucas breathed shakily. He pinned her arms above her head and ordered her to keep them there.
Then he lowered his head to taste her succulent nipples, circling first one then the other with his mouth, drawing them deeply in then teasing the stiffened bud with his tongue.
Milly couldn’t bear it. It was beyond pleasurable. It was also a completely new experience. She wanted to tell him that she was a virgin. He deserved to know, didn’t he? Or else he might expect her to...be like all his other women. She wasn’t sure what that meant, exactly, but she thought that creative gymnastics might be involved.
She half-opened her mouth and a gasp of pure pleasure came out instead of the haltering admission she had been formulating.
He was licking her nipple, watching her, enjoying the hectic colour in her cheeks, enjoying the way she couldn’t keep still, all her little soft moans and whimpers.
Her full breasts jiggled as she writhed under him and he was driven to capture her other nipple, suckling on it until the moans became husky and uncontrolled.
He’d never felt the need to rush his love-making. Sex was an art form and pleasure had to be given and taken in equal measure. He was a master of taking things slowly, of the languorous intimate exploration, but right now it required a great deal of self-control not to grab the condom on the bedside table, stick it on and just...take her. Where his skinny supermodels were all sharp angles and jutting hip bones, Milly was soft, silky smooth and sensually rounded.
He curved his hand along her side, mouth still firmly clamped on her breast, then over the gentle swell of her stomach to slip between her legs, although once there he simply smoothed her inner thigh. His knuckles brushed the soft down of her pubic hair, and he itched to delve deeper, but all in good time.
Very slowly...and trying hard to douse his raging libido by concentrating on something, anything, other than the sex bomb squirming under him...he licked a trail along her stomach, starting from underneath her heavy breasts and working all the way down to her belly button.
He tipped his tongue into the sensitive indentation and felt the whoosh of her breath as she inhaled sharply. She had pressed her legs together and he gently but firmly eased them apart in preparation of tasting her but she tugged him by his hair and he glanced up to meet her feverish eyes.
‘What are you doing?’ Milly whispered, yearning for his mouth to touch her in her most private part, yet horrified at this outrageous show of intimacy.
‘Nothing while you’re pulling my hair out.’
‘It’s just that...’
‘Don’t tell me that no one has ever tasted you...there...’ Could his libido get any more out of control? he wondered.
‘I...’ Confession time—but her vocal cords protested at ruining the moment and what difference would it make anyway? She still wanted him, wanted this.
Lucas slanted a bone-melting smile at her and her fingers slackened their grip. She fell back, eyes closed, cautiously opened her legs then sucked in deeply and held her breath as his tongue began to tease her open, flicking over the stiffened nub of her clitoris. She exhaled but had to breath in quickly again because sensations were running rampant through her.
She was burning up all over and panting. No part of her could keep still under the force of the fire spreading through her body, wafting through her in waves, making her arch up against his mouth, and there he kept her by placing his hands firmly under her butt.
He brought her close, so close that she wanted to cry out, then pulled back, teasing her body in a way that had her breathless and shamefully pleading for him to enter her.
She felt rather than saw him fumble for the condom he had earlier fished out. She watched, cheeks hot, as he expertly slipped it on, never taking his eyes off her face. She felt that she should have done more—clambered over him, perhaps, enticed him with the promise of new, acrobatic positions—but she dismissed that jag of insecurity. The hunger blazing in his dark eyes left no room for her to doubt that he was as turned on as she was.
He nudged the thick head of his arousal into her, and she tensed and stifled a little yelp as he inserted more of his tremendous girth into her, plunging deep and hard. She stiffened, eyes wide and panicked, and he stopped as realisation dawned.
‘Tell me you’re not a virgin,’ he gasped, his whole body so still that it sent a ripple of alarm racing through her.
‘You said that this was no time for confiding.’ Milly pulled him down to her, raising herself slightly so that she could kiss him.
‘Oh, Milly of the not-red hair, I’ll take my time... I’ll be gentle...’
He did, teasing her with his arousal, nudging it slowly in, withdrawing it, enticing her until her little whimpers became pleading moans. It was agony. But there was no way that he was going to hurt her, no way that she would ever think back to this night as anything but utterly memorable. Why that meant so much to him was something he shoved away.
She was wet and slippery as he eased himself deeper, taking his time as he had promised, until she was crying out for him to take her and take her now.
With a groan, Lucas thrust deep into her, and after the first sharp shock of his entry her body settled around him, responding to his deep, fierce thrusts, and the orgasm she had come so close to having when his mouth had been exploring her built into something wild and unstoppable.
She cried out and he placed a hand gently over her mouth, lifting his hand and grinning, then kissing her and coming as his mouth was still on hers, tasting her as his big body shuddered.
Spent, he backtracked and registered what she had confessed earlier.
‘You’re a virgin.’ He eased himself off her and flopped onto his side then immediately propped himself on one elbow to stare at her.
And this was why he had stayed away. Not that he’d known that, but still, he’d known enough: had known that she wasn’t tough like the women he dated; had known that she was one of life’s romantics; had known that she was still in a vulnerable place. That she was a virgin took a stupid situation and threatened to turn it into a very messy one.
But, hell, the sex had been good.
A virgin. He’d never placed any value on that particular virtue at all but now he wanted to take her all over again, show her things she had never experienced before, teach her, make love to her with all the gentle command at his disposal.
None of it made sense but he couldn’t fight the realisation. Since when had he become a he-man bore who got a chauvinistic kick out of bedding virgins? What next? Belting out a Tarzan yell and looking for a vine to swing on?
But he couldn’t contain a deep sense of mystifying satisfaction.
‘You should have told me.’
‘I was going to. Does it matter?’
‘What I don’t understand is why?’
‘I don’t want to talk about this.’ Milly rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. This had been the most wonderful experience in her entire life. Nothing had prepared her for all the amazing sensations that had bombarded her entire body; nothing. And yet all he could take away from it was the fact that she hadn’t told him that he was her first.
Lucas propped himself up, invading her space so that she was forced to look at him. ‘I apologise if I wasn’t up to your high standards,’ she managed to choke out and his eyebrows shot up.
‘What the heck’s going through your head, Milly?’
‘What do you think?’ She drew in a deep breath and said what was on her mind. ‘We’ve just made love, and I know that it’s probably not a big deal for you, but the only thing you seem to care about is the fact that I’ve never done this before. Is it because you’re... I know those women you dated...supermodels...’
‘Don’t ever run yourself down to me, Milly. Ever. That has nothing to do with...anything.’ He sighed his frustration. Even the way she looked at things was different. Why the instant rush to denigrate herself? In so many areas she was the most outspoken, cheerful and upbeat woman he had ever met...and yet there was an insecurity there that was reflected in the wounded, accusing eyes looking at him.
He had a moment of disturbing tenderness that threw him for a few seconds and then he rationalised that it was because he didn’t usually do this, didn’t usually have cosy conversations with women after sex. But naturally Milly would want to have that conversation because this had been her first time and by nature she was confiding and talkative. Of course she wasn’t going to keep quiet and uncomplaining when he rose from the bed to have a shower and check his emails.
‘I expressed puzzlement that you were still a virgin because you’re so damned hot, Milly.’
She allowed her hurt to dissipate a little. ‘I’m not.’
‘Are we going to waste time playing the “no, I’m not—oh yes, you are” game?’ He brushed a lock of hair from her cheek and hardened at the thought of taking her again.
Milly was tempted to tell him that she quite liked the idea of that game. ‘I practically threw myself at you. Most men would take what was on offer even if they didn’t fancy it.’
‘I’m not most men and we seem to be coming back to the fishing for compliments game. I fancied you the minute I laid eyes on you at my ski lodge.’
‘You did?’ Now she definitely wanted to hear more.
‘And now here we are, in bed together, and trust me—I enjoyed every second of the experience. In fact, if I didn’t think you were sore, I would repeat it right now all over again...’ He cupped her with his hand and her eyelids fluttered. ‘Why me?’
‘Sorry?’ Milly dragged her addled brain into some sort of functioning order and frowned.
‘You’re hopelessly romantic...’
‘Not hopelessly.’
‘Romantic enough for me to wonder why you would choose your first experience to be with me, under these circumstances. I’m curious as to why you didn’t sleep with the man you presumed you were going to marry but you were happy to hop in the sack with a guy you definitely won’t be ending up with.’
‘I haven’t sat down and analysed it but...I guess, maybe, I just needed...’
‘A tonic? A pick-me-up? And I happened to be the nearest suitable medication to hand? Wasn’t the ex man enough to entice you into bed?’
‘The ex didn’t fancy me,’ Milly said bluntly. ‘So he didn’t put much effort into trying.’
‘And you didn’t bother to try either.’
‘I...’ I was never the sort of girl to make the first move. Yet she had made the first move with Lucas, hadn’t she? Was it because she’d had nothing to lose? Or was it because she had never grasped the full meaning of lust until she’d met him?
‘I suppose I was waiting for the big night.’ In love with the thought of being in love, but she’d never fancied Robbie. Lucas had shown her that; lust and love were two separate things, miles apart. She stared at his lean, dark face for a few disorientated seconds. ‘You’re right. Stupidly romantic. This is real life. Maybe subconsciously that’s what I wanted, to connect with real life...’
‘A man could be hurt.’
‘I can’t picture you ever being hurt. I mean, so hurt that you wanted to cry.’
‘Oh, Milly. The things you come out with. So, ironically, we’re lovers for real but still on course for self-destruction...’ He brushed his fingers over her nipple, which hardened in fast response. ‘Shall we think about how we do that while we rediscover each other again...? Or maybe we’ll have to do the thinking after the rediscovery has finished...because I guarantee you won’t be thinking when we’re making love...’
* * *
Lucas pushed himself away from his desk and restively strolled towards the bank of windows that overlooked the city. He was back in London, back in his towering office, back in the thick of it. This was his reality. The two-and-a-half weeks spent with his mother playing Romeo to Milly’s Juliet had been a mirage, flimsy and insubstantial, easily blown away after a fortnight. Then, business as usual.
So what the heck had happened?
He raked fingers through his hair frustratedly and silently cursed himself for letting things get out of hand. It was a mess. They had returned to London, his mother none the wiser that their relationship, whilst it had become physical, was just a sham. Marriage was not on the cards. Longevity was not on the cards.
But that was nearly two months ago and now...
Entrenched. And in a place from which an exit had to be made. Accustomed as he was to making the most of a bad situation, Lucas decided that this was something from which a positive could be drawn. Perhaps it had been foolish to imagine that he could take Milly to Spain and, in the space of a mere week or two, manage to convince his very astute mother that their brief romance was drawing to its sad but inevitable close.
Wasn’t it better this way? The relationship had lasted long enough for its demise to be more credible. They had got to know one another and unfortunately familiarity had bred contempt. His mother would not have witnessed the decline in their relations. It would be easy to report back that they were no longer an item. Disappointment all round, but that was life.
He prowled restlessly through his vast office. It was late. He was probably the last man standing in the office. Milly, now settled into her new apartment and her new job, was having an evening out with her new colleagues. A drink at some pub somewhere with a meal to follow.
What colleagues?
Lucas impatiently pushed away any line of pointless speculation. It was good that she was making lots of friends. So what if some of them were men? It was to be expected. She had smartened up her act when it came to her dress code. He had, she had told him more than once, given her confidence in the way she looked, in her body. She had had a ritual getting rid of most of her old clothes, which, much to his amusement, she had insisted in showing him piece by deplorable piece. He had never seen such a vast collection of shapeless items of clothing in one place in his life before. Then she had dragged him out shopping.
He gritted his teeth at the thought of some guy seeing her in some of the stuff they had bought together. The red dress with the plunging back; the tight black jeans; hell, some of the sexy underwear...
He only had himself to blame for the situation he now found himself in. He had known from the very beginning that she was vulnerable. He had known that she was the sort of romantic who got lost in house and garden magazines and gazed longingly into the windows of bridal shops. She had a strong nesting instinct and was a home-maker by nature. She had loved cooking for him and he, who had never allowed any woman the privilege of cosy home-cooked meals in his kitchens, had found himself trying out new recipes and working while she sat cross-legged next to him, watching rubbish on television.
Was it any wonder that she had fallen in love with him? Was it any wonder that she had risen to the futile challenge of trying to make him see that his teenage error of judgement was just a little something that ‘true love’ could overcome?
Before she had even told him, he had known. She wasn’t good when it came to hiding things. She wore her heart on her sleeve, and he had seen it in her eyes but had chosen to ignore it because he enjoyed her company and the sex was better than brilliant.
But he wasn’t going to marry her and just the thought of being the object of her love, just the memory of those hopeful, trusting, adoring eyes on him, filled him with a sense of claustrophobia.
Love was for fools. He had learnt that the tough way. She knew that and if she had chosen to ignore it, then, hell!
The long and short of it was that he had taken his eye off the ball...and now...
He made his mind up, grabbed his jacket and left the office before he had time for any weakness to seep in.
* * *
He, of course, had a key to the apartment. It was his, after all; why wouldn’t he? On a couple of occasions, he had left work early and headed straight there, letting himself in and working until she returned.
In a short space of time, she had made inroads into the decor. The perfectly cool, bland apartment now bore just the sort of homey touches that should have warned him that she was settling into it, just as she was settling into him.
Pictures on the mantelpiece. Scraps of paper with handy recipe titbits pinned to the stainless steel American-style fridge-freezer with jokey magnets. Lots of flowers because, she told him, it had always been her grandmother’s habit to fill the rooms with things from outside. Good Feng Shui, apparently. He had laughed and drily told her that he had lived quite happily without such touches in his own place. She had suggested some kind of water feature; he had firmly squashed that idea, but he suspected that its absence was only short lived.
He had to wait for over an hour and a half before he heard the turn of the key in the door and, in that hour and a half, his mind had been everywhere but on work. For once, the joys of deal making had failed in its duty to distract him.
‘Where’ve you been?’ was his opening question as she entered the sitting room and Milly started, then smiled as her breathing returned to normal.
He had been on her mind all evening. So she had told him, just blurted it out; she hadn’t been able to help herself. She had fallen in love with him and it had been just too big a deal for her to keep inside. She didn’t even know when the process had begun. Maybe the seeds had been sown in Spain, when she had glimpsed sides of him that were so curiously appealing. Certainly, she now knew that her fate had been sealed by the time they had fallen into bed together that first time and she had sunk deeper and deeper the longer she had spent with him.
It was crazy, she had known that, but love was crazy, wasn’t it? It wasn’t something you could explain on a sheet of A4 paper, like a maths problem with a solution. If love made sense, she would never have fallen in love with Lucas. But she had. And, the minute she had told him, she had wished that she could yank the words back into her mouth and swallow them down. He had gone perfectly still, hadn’t replied, and when he had spoken it was as though he had chosen to ignore what she had said.
And his eyes were grave now as she tentatively walked towards him.
‘We need to talk.’
‘Why?’ Milly smiled quickly. ‘You always tell me that there are far better things to do than talk.’
‘But, first, where have you been?’ That question hadn’t been on the agenda.
‘I told you, Lucas, that I was going out with some people from work.’
Lucas scowled and tried not to let his imagination run away with thoughts of who those people were. She looked bloody amazing. Just the right side of tousled, her red hair trailing down her back, her tight jeans showing off every succulent inch of her body, as did the clingy long-sleeved top. The fact that she was wearing a pair of flat sneakers did nothing to detract from the look and he angrily felt himself harden in automatic response.
He dismissively waved aside her explanation just in case she thought that a detour down that road was going to happen.
‘What’s going on, Lucas?’ As if she didn’t know. One sign of love and he was getting ready to bolt. Things were just fine as long as they were having sex. The charade was well in place then! But she had crossed a line; she had forgotten what he had told her about not getting involved and had committed the mortal sin of not only disobeying the edict, but of telling him that she had.
‘I think you know. And sit down; stop hovering.’
‘I’m not sorry I said what I said,’ Milly imparted with just the sort of driven honesty that he felt had landed them in this mess. ‘And I never said that I was asking you to love me back.’ But she was.
‘This is no longer a working proposition.’ He was somehow angry and bewildered as to how it was that these seemed to be the hardest words ever to have left his mouth. He had known that it was going to end sooner or later. So why did each syllable feel like broken glass? Maybe it was because he hadn’t been the one to determine the timing of the end. He had been pushed into it because unforeseen circumstances had forced his hand. That made sense. He, of all men, did not like having his hand forced.
Milly opened her mouth but nothing emerged. She stared at him, wide-eyed, not daring to speak in case she started doing something really humiliating...like pleading and begging. Because, for the life of her, she couldn’t envisage life without him.
Stupid Robbie and her broken engagement had been a walk in the park in comparison. This was the real thing. This was love, and hearing him tell her that their relationship was over was like staring down the barrel of a gun and waiting for the trigger to be pulled.
Did she regret her honesty? No. Was she going to compound her horror and dismay by really pushing the boat out and bursting into tears? Absolutely not!
‘I get it,’ she told him quietly. ‘And I agree.’
