Читать книгу Hollywood Hills Collection - Lynne Marshall, Amalie Berlin - Страница 40

CHAPTER EIGHT

SHE SAT BESIDE him in the limousine. Their thighs were touching and the heat from his body scorched her skin and warmed her insides.

A bottle of champagne was chilling in an ice bucket. Damien reached for it and poured them each a glass. The champagne was cold and the sharp contrast between the coldness of the drink and the temperature of her body made her catch her breath.

Damien sipped his drink, drawing her attention to his lips. She imagined leaning forward, pressing her lips to his, tasting him, as she’d been longing to do all evening, but before she could decide whether to take that chance the driver had turned into her driveway and pulled up behind Damien’s car, which was where he had left it after dropping Summer off with Irma and George for a sleepover.

He took her glass from her hand and put it down in the limousine. He picked up the bottle as the driver opened Abi’s door.

‘Do you have champagne flutes?’ he asked.

She had been wondering if she was brave enough to invite him in when he took the initiative. Had he read her mind or seen the question, the desire, in her eyes?

She swallowed. ‘I’m sure I can find something appropriate,’ she said. She had no idea what was in her cupboards but did it matter if she didn’t have champagne flutes? She would drink out of jam jars if it meant prolonging the evening.

Damien followed her inside and she could sense his eyes watching the tightening of her butt as she climbed the stairs. She searched the kitchen cupboards and found two fluted glasses. Damien filled them before proposing a toast.

‘Here’s to golden nights,’ he said.

She closed her eyes as she sipped her drink. She could picture the waves of desire that surrounded her to form a kaleidoscope of colour. She could smell the bubbles, as well as Damien’s fresh citrus scent. It enveloped her, surrounded her, cushioned her and kept her safe.

She opened her eyes to find him watching her. His gaze was unwavering and she could see desire in the dark depths of his eyes. She felt her temperature rise as a flush stole over her cheeks and anticipation burned brightly inside her. She couldn’t breathe. His gaze was so intense it felt as if the room lacked oxygen, as if it was being burnt up in his gaze. She parted her lips to take a breath. Her lips were dry so she licked them with the tip of her tongue.

Damien groaned, giving in to his desire, giving in to hers. He wrapped an arm around her back, pulled her to him and kissed her hard. He tasted of champagne, of late nights and silent promises.

She waited for her nerves to raise the alarm, to ask her what she thought she was doing, but the anxiety didn’t come, the alarm didn’t sound. She wanted this, she needed this. There was no fear. In Damien’s arms she felt safe. Beautiful. Special. Desirable.

Nothing else mattered.

There was nothing else.

She reached one hand behind his head, holding him to her as she kissed him back. His tongue was warm in her mouth. His hands were warm on her skin. Every inch of her was on fire, consumed with desire. She felt his fingers on her arm, could feel them tracing a line up to her shoulder, across her collarbone to the hollow at the base of her throat, where she felt his thumb dip into the little dimple. She couldn’t breathe, she’d forgotten how.

Abi needed to breathe.

She pulled away and he lifted his hand, releasing her from his touch. She almost begged him not to as she didn’t want him to let her go.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked.

She nodded, unable to speak.

His dark gaze moved lower, over her breasts. How could such dark eyes hold such heat? Such intensity? She held her breath, trying to stop the rise and fall of her breasts, but still her nipples peaked in response to his gaze burning through the thin fabric of her dress. She could feel the moisture between her legs as her body responded to his gaze devouring her. He wasn’t laying a finger on her now and yet she felt ready to self-combust. A look, a glance, a smile was all it would take for her to melt under him.

‘Do you want to stop?’

‘No.’ Her voice was breathless. ‘I want you to make love to me.’

She didn’t need to ask twice. With one arm he scooped her up and held her against his chest, pressing her to him, as he carried her into her bedroom.

He lowered her to the bed before shrugging out of his jacket. He tugged at one end of his bow tie, pulling it undone and tossing it onto the chair at her bedside. He eased himself over her, supporting himself on his elbows. She reached up and ran her hands over his biceps, feeling his strength, marvelling at the firmness within him. His breath was coming fast now, she could hear it and feel it as it hit the bare skin of her shoulders and neck, but he didn’t move. How could he hold himself so still? He was poised to move forward, to take this to the next level, but somehow he held his position. He was in no hurry. How could he be so calm when desire threatened to consume her?

The waiting was exquisite agony. A delicious sense of anticipation battled with the desire to have him take her now, right now. She arched her hips up towards him, pushing herself against his groin, and was rewarded when she felt his matching desire, hard and firm, straining against his trousers.

She breathed out on a sigh as she let her knees fall open and wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer, pulling him down against her. She heard him groan and he lowered his body until it covered the length of her. She wanted this. She wanted to feel his weight on her, she needed to know this was real.

Every cell of her body tingled, she could feel each one straining, alive with the possibilities of what was to come. Her expectations were almost painful, her reaction intense.

He reached for her, ending her suspense. His lips were on her ear lobe, soft and warm, his breath in her ear. He kissed her neck and then his lips covered hers and she melted into him and let him consume her.

His fingers skimmed over her nipples, hard and peaked. He swept the strap of her dress from her shoulder and exposed her left breast to the cool air. His thumb brushed over her nipple, teasing, tantalising. She cried out as a wave of desire washed over her and a bolt of heat scorched through her, sweeping from her nipple to her groin in a searing flash.

His lips left a trail of hot spots from her lips to her throat and collarbone until finally he took her breast in his mouth, rolling his tongue over the taut flesh until Abi thought she might come then and there. But she didn’t want it to end. Not yet. Maybe not ever. She wanted to feel him, to touch him, to arouse him too.

Her fingers found the buttons of his shirt and she undid them, one by one, until she could run her hand over his chest. His warm skin was firm but soft under her fingertips. She pulled his shirt from his body as his mouth continued to tease her nipple, sucking and licking. He cupped her breast in his hand and ran his thumb over the peaked bud, making her moan. She arched her back, offering herself to him, and he took one breast in his mouth again, sucking hard, and she almost exploded in his arms.

She ran her index finger from his sternum down along the line separating his abdominal muscles, following the line of dark hair that led below his waistband. She concentrated on him, wanting to extend the pleasure, wanting to share the delight. She unbuckled his belt and snapped open the button on his trousers, unzipping his fly and pushing his trousers low on his hips. His erection strained against the fabric of his boxer shorts. She pushed them out of the way and ran her hand over his shaft, which was strong and thick, and she felt it rise to meet her. He groaned and the sound of his arousal urged her on.

His hand ran up her thigh and the soft folds of her dress fell away with his touch. His fingers met the elastic of her underwear and slid under the lace. Abi let her legs fall apart again, opening herself to him, giving herself to him, and she bit back a cry of desire as his fingers slid inside her. She was slick and wet, throbbing. His thumb found her centre and she gasped as his touch took her to the edge.

But she didn’t want it this way. She wanted to share the experience. She wanted all of him and she wanted him to have all of her. She let go of him to quickly pull her dress over her head, and now she lay naked before him. His dark eyes roamed over her body, setting her on fire with his gaze.

She wanted to feel him inside her. She wanted them to be joined together. She lifted her hips and reached behind him, holding his hips, cupping his buttocks, to pull him close. Her knees were bent and she arched her back as she fitted him to her like pieces of a jigsaw.

She gave herself to him and he claimed all of her.

She sighed as he thrust into her, filling her, consuming her as they became one.

* * *

This was dangerous, she was dangerous, Damien thought as he felt himself losing control. Everything else in his life was forgotten as Abi took over his senses. He wanted to go slowly, he wanted to savour the moment, he wanted time to commit it all to memory, but he couldn’t resist her. He couldn’t fight it. He was only a man, a powerless man, and he could feel himself being swept away. The world ceased to exist except for Abi.

There was nothing else.

Nothing else that mattered.

He felt her hand on his chest, felt it brush over one nipple, felt another surge of blood to his groin. He breathed her name and that was the last coherent thought he had. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pinning him to her. She pushed her hips against his and his resistance crumbled.

She tilted her hips and fitted him to her. He heard his own guttural moan as he thrust into her, filling her, claiming her for his own. He couldn’t hold back, he couldn’t resist, and when he heard her call his name it pushed him further.

There was nothing gentle in their lovemaking. It was fuelled by pure desire. Desperate, all-consuming desire.

He thrust into her again. Up and down he moved, faster and faster, harder and stronger, and she met each thrust. She arched her back and held him close with her legs, opening herself to him, offering herself to him.

He buried himself deep inside her and when he felt her shudder and come undone he came with her. They climaxed together and when they were completely spent he gathered her to him, holding her close, reluctant to let her go as he savoured this next moment, as they lay in each other’s arms, slick with sweat and breathing hard.

She had blown his mind. She was bold and confident. This was the Abi who had been hiding, the one he had known was in there somewhere, the one who had been swamped by trauma and stress. He was finally piecing her together. Bit by bit he was getting to know her and he knew now he could bring her back, resurrect her, restore her. All she needed was love, a connection, someone to nourish her. He could be that man.

He wanted to be that man.

* * *

Abi woke to the smell of fresh coffee. She had slept well, without nightmares. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept soundly all night. Actually, she could. It had been last week when she’d fallen asleep in Damien’s arms. She’d had two good nights’ sleep in the past six months since Mark had died and both of those nights she had spent with Damien.

He was standing by her bed, holding a mug of hot coffee. She could get used to waking up like this.

‘Good morning,’ he said, as he put the coffee beside her bed and kissed her.

She could definitely get used to this.

‘Good morning.’ She smiled.

‘Do you mind if I have a shower here? I need to collect Summer from Irma and George and it will save me some time if I don’t have to go and come back.’

‘Of course. There are fresh towels in the bathroom cupboard,’ she replied. She rolled lazily over onto her stomach and watched as he disappeared into the bathroom.

He showered and returned bare-chested with one of her fluffy white towels wrapped around his waist. He dropped the towel and grinned when her eyes went straight to his groin. He was certainly impressive, lacking nothing she needed in that department, and she was disappointed to know there was no time to take advantage of his attributes.

‘Another time, my lady,’ he said, as he bent to pick up his trousers.

Like her when she had slept at his house, he only had yesterday’s clothes to wear but there was not the same sense of shame for a man to put on yesterday’s clothes. Without the jacket and bow tie his suit became just a pair of trousers and a shirt, and once he got to work and put a white coat over the top no one would be any the wiser.

She was happy to lie in bed and watch him get ready. It felt comfortable, easy; it didn’t feel as if they’d only spent one night together but before they could talk about what happened next he was gone. Off to collect Summer and get on with his day, and Abi had no idea what he was thinking.

* * *

A fortnight went past in the blink of an eye. It was amazing how quickly time flew when every minute was filled. Between work and spending time with Damien and Summer, Abi had never been as busy, exhausted or happy.

Nikki’s operation had gone well and Dylan had been discharged following his skin-graft surgery. She was pleased with the results of Nikki’s op, even though it was early days. Her face was still swollen but Abi could already see the improvement made by the repaired bone structure. Nikki had some hip pain from where they had taken the bone graft but that was to be expected and Abi felt confident that everything had gone according to plan.

Damien’s attentions were also helping to restore her confidence. Spending time with him was helping to make her whole again and she was feeling more positive than she had in a long time. She could see light at the end of the dark tunnel now, thanks to Damien.

They spent the weekends together, with Summer as their chaperone. Abi played tour guide but when Summer went to bed they got their adult time. Life was good and the sex was amazing but there had been no discussion about where they were headed. Damien hadn’t raised the topic and Abi wasn’t about to instigate it. She didn’t want to formalise their liaison, afraid of jeopardising her happiness. Every relationship she’d ever had had ended badly, and she was superstitious and fearful enough not to want to have that discussion. She didn’t want to legitimise what they had for fear that something would go wrong. She didn’t want to be the one to cause the bubble to burst. She didn’t want to risk ruining the fairytale she had only just started to believe could exist.

She desperately wanted to give her heart away, she wanted to find someone who might want to look after it, but she was terrified of the consequences. She was terrified that she would end up with a bruised and damaged heart and that some tragedy would befall Damien. It was better to keep things uncomplicated. It was better to just keep quiet.

But despite her reservations she was looking forward to another weekend. Their weekdays were hectic, between their work commitments, taking care of Jonty, her appointments with her psychologist and Damien’s hands-on role as single dad to Summer, it didn’t leave them with much time for romance and Abi had already learned to hold out for Friday night. She was enjoying having someone to share her time with, someone to spend weekends with, and she smiled to herself as she and Jonty walked up to Damien’s front door.

But the smile was quickly wiped from her face when her knock was answered not by Damien but by a woman. A rather striking, glamorous woman dressed in skinny jeans, sky-high stilettos and a figure-hugging top with a plunging neckline that revealed plenty of cleavage between gravity-defying breasts. Who the hell was she?

‘Can I help you?’ the woman asked as she struck a pose in the doorway, jutting one hip forward as she flicked shiny, sleek hair over her shoulder.

Abi glanced around, thinking she’d perhaps knocked on a neighbour’s door by mistake, but this was definitely Damien’s house.

‘If you’re going door to door, selling something, I’m not interested,’ the woman said, as Abi stood mute, trying to work out what was going on.

The door was starting to close as Abi regained her senses. ‘No, I’m here to see Damien.’

‘And you are?’

‘I’m Abi, I work with him.’ Why had she said that? She wasn’t here in a work capacity. She was here because she and Damien had made plans to take Summer out for pizza. And why was anything she did any of this woman’s business? But she was too stunned to think of a better retort.

‘He’s in the shower,’ the woman said, as she continued to stand in the doorway. She made no attempt to get out of the way and Abi was certain she was about to shut the door in her face. She certainly didn’t appear about to invite her in.

Abi could see Damien over the woman’s shoulder. He was dressed in jeans and a shirt but the buttons were open and his feet were bare. He looked half-dressed. His hair was damp from the shower and he was buttoning his shirt as he came towards her, glancing anxiously from her to the woman and back again. He looked surprised to see her, almost as if he’d forgotten about their arrangement, and from the expression on his face she was certain he hadn’t been expecting her. But she couldn’t blame him. This woman would certainly be more than enough to distract most men. But that still didn’t explain who she was.

‘Abi! You’ve met Brooke.’

Abi could feel the blood drain from her face and her hand automatically reached down to pat Jonty’s head. She needed the comforting, familiar feel of his warm, soft fur under her icy-cold fingers. She felt as if all the blood was draining from her body.

This stunning, self-assured woman was Brooke!

She looked at her again. She couldn’t help but compare herself to the ex-Mrs Moore.

She glowed golden. Her brown hair had been expertly highlighted and straightened and hung in a shiny curtain halfway down her back. Her face was smooth, unlined and her skin was lightly tanned. Abi’s trained eye had noted that Brooke’s nose was perfect for her face, symmetrical, small and narrow, and her legs were long and slim. Abi felt herself pale in comparison. She felt she was lacking something. She knew she was pretty enough in a young way, she could pass for a teenager some days, and that was the difference. Brooke was all woman. Confident and beautiful and self-satisfied.

‘I’ll go and finish getting ready,’ Brooke said as she shot Abi a smug look that implied she’d won and Abi had no doubt that Damien was the prize.

As she turned on her heel Abi wondered what it was she was getting ready for.

‘What is she doing here?’ Abi asked, when Damien made no move to invite her inside either.

‘I don’t know.’

That was a very unsatisfactory answer but Abi let it go for now. ‘Are we still going out for pizza?’

Damien shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t. I need to find out what Brooke wants.’

So this was how it was going to be, Abi thought. She was going to be shown the door in favour of his ex. She’d wondered where she fitted into the scheme of things, into his life, and now she knew. She could handle coming after his daughter and his career but she didn’t want to come after his wife, ex or not. She’d been in that position before and it had ended badly. She wouldn’t willingly put herself in that position again.

‘Why didn’t you call me to cancel?’ she asked. She wouldn’t have turned up if she’d known. She’d had no desire to meet or even see Brooke. Not without some warning. She wasn’t prepared for this.

‘I didn’t know she was coming. She turned up without warning.’

‘What for?’

‘I don’t know yet. I haven’t had time to find out.’

Abi’s first response was to panic. She didn’t want to confront Damien’s past—if that was what Brooke was. What was she doing here and what did it mean for Damien and Summer? What did it mean for her?

She knew what it meant. She only had to look at Brooke to know.

It meant the fairytale was over. She didn’t get to live happily ever after. She didn’t get the prince.

‘I’ll leave you alone, then, to enjoy your evening,’ she said. There was no discussion between her fight and flight responses. Her flight response took over and she turned around and walked down the path, wanting to get away before she dissolved into tears, wanting to run and hide as humiliation crashed over her, shattering her ridiculous dreams into millions of tiny fragments that fell around her.