Читать книгу It Started With A Proposition - Miranda Lee - Страница 10

JORDAN stiffened, then tried to stop dancing altogether. But he would have none of it, keeping her body jammed tight against his as he moved his hips from side to side.

Impossible to ignore his arousal.

Gino was impressively built. Her mind flashed back to the first time he’d made love to her. Or tried to. She’d never forgotten the shocked look on his face when he’d realised she was a virgin. She’d begged him not to stop, and he hadn’t, his initial penetration punching a pained cry from her lips.

She’d gloried in the experience, impatient to do it again as soon as possible. Afterwards he’d run them both a bath and lain her on top of him in the warm water, caressing her body. Then he’d dried her and carried her back to her bed, where he’d made love to her again, not stopping till she’d fallen into a deep sleep.

He’d given her tender body time to recover from his initial onslaught. Next morning, when he’d entered her, she’d welcomed him with a wild, wanton need. She’d climaxed swiftly and noisily.

After that, she’d always come whenever he was inside her.

Feeling his rock-hard flesh pressing into her stomach reminded her of how that felt: Gino being inside her.

Jordan suppressed a groan, burying her head under his chin to hide her flushed face from his eyes.

‘I’m up here for the weekend,’ he murmured, his lips in her hair. ‘I’m staying here at this hotel.’

Jordan’s head jerked back, her eyes disbelieving as she stared up into his darkly handsome face. ‘You’re staying here? At the Regency?’

‘It is fate, is it not?’

Jordan shook her head. ‘I don’t believe in fate. Things are not predestined, Gino. People have free will. And choices.’

‘And what would you choose, Jordan, if I asked you to come up to my room with me?’

Jordan’s lips fell open. The arrogance of him! And the presumption!

But, oh…the passion. It blazed down at her from his beautiful black eyes, reminding her of his extraordinary virility and amazing sexual stamina. When they’d lived together it had been nothing for Gino to make love to her for hours on end, with only the shortest of breaks in between. He’d claimed he couldn’t get enough of her, and his actions had backed up his words.

Gino had never been the first one to go to sleep. She’d been the one who usually pegged out, exhausted but happy.

‘What for, exactly?’ she snapped, even as she quivered inside at the thought of going up to his room with him. ‘An old-times’-sake shag? Sorry, but I don’t do one-night stands, Gino. I never did. You must remember that.’

‘I remember everything about you,’ he said, his voice vibrating with the most seductive emotion. ‘And I’m not after a one-night stand. I want you to stay the whole weekend with me. I also want the opportunity to talk to you. To explain why I didn’t come back for you all those years ago.’

Jordan’s wildly galloping heart skittered to an unsteady halt. ‘You…you wanted to come back for me?’

‘Of course. I loved you, Jordan. Never doubt that.’

The last of Jordan’s resistance began to crumble right then and there.

‘Don’t get me wrong,’ he added. ‘I don’t want to talk tonight. Tonight is for us, Jordan. You and me together again, as we once were. Don’t say no. Say si. Si, Gino. As I taught you all those years ago.’

Jordan’s head whirled. That was another way she’d been different with Gino than with any other man since. The way he’d been able to make her submit to his will. Not like some whipped slave, but willingly and wantonly. She had wallowed in the role of being his woman. Wallowed in his possessiveness and his protectiveness. With him she’d always felt safe and secure, and totally, totally loved.

She’d been devastated when he left, devastated and despairing. That year she’d failed her exams and had to resit.

She hadn’t had another boyfriend during her remaining years at university. Then, when she had eventually started dating again, she’d gone out with sweet, gentle men who were, perhaps, just a little weak. Men she could dominate and dump, once things got too serious.

Because she wasn’t going to marry any of them. How could she, when she didn’t love them?

Then Chad had come into her life. Smiling, charming, successful Chad, who’d impressed her with his intelligence and sophistication.

Sex with him was quite good.

She’d thought she loved him—till he’d proposed and she had suddenly been faced with a lifetime of sleeping with him.

If she were brutally honest, there was something irritatingly clinical about Chad’s lovemaking—as if he was following a textbook on sex. Sometimes she faked her orgasm, so that he wouldn’t ask her if she’d had one.

Gino had never asked her. He’d known she had.

Jordan trembled at the thought of how many times she would climax if she went up to his hotel room with him.

‘Come on,’ he decided for her. ‘Let’s go.’

Taking her arms from around his neck, he grabbed her left hand and began pulling her towards the exit.

‘My things!’ she protested, and indicated the table where, hopefully, her bag and jacket would still be on that chair.

They were.

He scowled as he watched her draw her jacket on. ‘Why do you wear such unflattering clothes?’

Her eyes flicked over his outfit. Tight black jeans, a white T-shirt and a black leather jacket. He’d always been a jeans and T-shirt kind of guy. They suited Gino’s tall, macho body.

‘Female lawyers wear clothes like this to work,’ she said. She didn’t add, Especially ones who looked like her. The law was still a man’s world, no matter what feminists liked to think. Even women clients preferred a male lawyer.

‘You look better in a dress,’ he returned, taking her elbow and steering her towards the exit. ‘Or at least a skirt. You should never wear trousers, Jordan.’

Heat flooded her body as she recalled how, after Gino had been living with her for a while, he’d forbidden her to wear underwear. She’d fought him over that. At first. But he’d managed to convince her, and she’d started going round with nothing on under her clothes. Which was why she’d worn dresses and skirts back then, and not jeans or trousers.

Oh, heavens, she felt hot, so hot.

Thankfully, the air outside the bar was much cooler. Jordan scooped in some calming breaths as Gino urged her along the marble-floored arcade which led to the hotel foyer proper. If she was going to do this she would rather do it with a clear head, not because she was mindlessly turned on.

But it was no use. She was mindlessly turned on.

She tried warning herself that he might have become a heartless womaniser, was just spinning her a line to get her into bed for the night.

But she wasn’t convinced. He’d seemed so sincere just now. Sincere and very passionate.

At the same time Jordan was desperate to find the answers to all those questions about Gino which had plagued her for the last ten years.

He’d promised to explain everything in the morning.

Meanwhile…

It was the meanwhile which was sending her into a spin.

Was she really going to do this? Go to bed with Gino within ten minutes of running into him again?

Her heart fluttered wildly as her eyes raked over him. He was everything she remembered. And more…more handsome, more mature…and even more masterful.

She would not have believed herself capable of being seduced so quickly these days, even by Gino.

But seduce her he had, in no time flat.

Jordan knew that if she spent the night with her wickedly sexy former lover then it would be Chad who’d be history. She’d had a slim chance of forgetting Gino when he’d been safely consigned to the past. No way could she forget him now.

Still, maybe she wouldn’t have to forget him this time. Maybe they really could take up where they left off.

Oh, she hoped so.

‘What are you doing up here in Sydney?’ she asked, almost running to keep up with him. ‘And why are you staying here? This is a very expensive hotel.’

‘Don’t ask questions, Jordan,’ he returned, his tone impatient. ‘Not right now. Leave it till the morning.’

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. In truth, she didn’t want to talk. But she didn’t want to think, either. And silence encouraged thinking.

Thinking brought doubts and worries. She could imagine what Kerry would think if she saw her now. She’s say she was insane!

When they reached the bank of lifts, one of them was empty and waiting. Gino took no time steering her inside, inserting his key card and pressing the tenth floor. The moment the doors closed he pulled her forcefully into his arms.

‘I can’t wait another second,’ he growled, his mouth already descending.

What was it that made one man’s kiss different from another?

Jordan had once tried to analyse this when other men’s kisses never did for her what Gino’s had done.

Now she knew: it was not just a matter of technique, or the sensual shape of his mouth. It was the passion behind those kisses, that all-encompassing hunger which came not just from his lips and tongue, but from his whole body.

Jordan was panting by the time he wrenched his mouth away.

His black eyes blazed down at her. ‘I should never have left you,’ he said. ‘Never!’

The lift had stopped by then, and the doors slid open. Two couples were waiting there to get in, all glammed up for a Friday night on the town. The women glanced at Gino as they exited, the men at Jordan.

She cringed a little when she saw her reflection in the mirror on the wall opposite. She looked dishevelled—some strands of hair falling down, her mouth devoid of lipstick, her eyes dilated and glittering with desires as yet unsatisfied.

Gino enfolded her hand in his and drew her along a carpeted hallway, stopping in front of room number 107.

As he bent his head to insert his key card again, Jordan noticed that his hair was shorter than he’d once worn it. She wondered if he was still a construction labourer. Maybe he was a foreman by now.

Another thought popped into her mind as he opened the door and waved her inside. Surely he must have a girlfriend back in Melbourne. Men like Gino didn’t live celibate lives.

As jealous as this idea made her, Jordan held her tongue, not wanting to spoil the moment with any upsetting truths. All she needed to know for now was that he wasn’t married and that he still desired her. As she still desired him.

But do you still love him? came the intriguing question as Gino followed her into the hotel room, kicking the door shut behind them.

Jordan was no longer a romantic teenager. She’d learned in the decade post-Gino that falling in love did not come as easily when you’d seen more of life. And of men.

When Gino curled his hands over her shoulders and leant her back against him Jordan realised she didn’t care if she still loved him or not. Her desires had moved past the point of no return. She was Gino’s woman again. At least for tonight. No, for the whole weekend.

An erotic shiver rippled down her spine as he eased her jacket off her shoulders.

‘Do you wish to go to the bathroom first?’ he whispered.

‘No,’ she choked out.

Her jacket gone, he turned her round and began unbuttoning her blouse. When her nipples tightened within her bra, she closed her eyes.

‘Open your eyes,’ he commanded.

She obeyed him, if a little reluctantly.

‘Now keep them open. I want you to see that it is Gino making love to you.’

‘You think I wouldn’t know it was you, even with my eyes closed?’

His smile was almost smug. ‘You have not forgotten me?’

‘I remember everything about you, Gino,’ she said, echoing his words down in the bar.

His eyes smouldered as he stripped the blouse from her body, then her bra.

‘Then you will remember I am not always a patient lover.’

Jordan’s mouth went dry.

Sometimes, when he’d come home from work, he’d lifted her skirt and taken her swiftly, standing up. No foreplay. Just his flesh filling hers whilst he told her how he’d thought about doing this to her all day.

His impassioned words had excited her as much as his actions, sending her over the edge within a shockingly short space of time.

She shuddered at the thought that this was what he was going to do to her now. Though he couldn’t, could he? Not with what she was still wearing.

‘You should not cover your beautiful body with clothes such as these,’ he told her, as he unzipped her pin-striped trousers and pushed them down over her hips. When they pooled onto the floor she stepped out of them, leaving her standing there in nothing but cream cotton panties, beige knee-high stockings and sensible black pumps.

‘Ridiculous,’ he growled, his top lip curling at the sight of her. ‘Get them off. Get everything off!’

She might have done as he ordered if he hadn’t started undressing himself, tossing aside his black leather jacket and reefing the white T-shirt over his head in a flash.

The sudden baring of his chest kept her rooted to the spot, her heart thudding as her eyes washed over him. He was leaner than he had been ten years ago—leaner, yet still utterly gorgeous.

‘Do you want me to do it? Is that it?’ he asked as he unzipped his jeans and shoved them down, taking his underpants with them.

Jordan swallowed. ‘What?’

Gino shot her a frustrated glance before sitting down on the edge of the bed and yanking off his shoes and socks.

Once totally naked, he remained sitting there, his dark eyes narrowing as they travelled up and down her tautly held body.

‘You are thinner,’ he said.

‘So are you,’ she countered, desperate to find some strength to fight the wave of weakness which was washing through her. ‘And your hair’s shorter.’

‘Is yours?’

‘No.’

‘Then take it down.’

She just stood there, willing herself not to blindly obey him, as she once had.

His dark eyes glittered. ‘If you don’t, then I will.’

Jordan’s hands lifted to pull out the pins which anchored her French pleat, her hair spilling down over her shoulders.

‘Now come here,’ he said, and moved his knees apart, drawing her gaze to those parts of his body which she’d been trying not to stare at.

Jordan stiffened. What did he want her to do?

‘Put your right foot up here,’ he said, patting a small area of the bed in front of him.

Relief loosened her frozen muscles, and she moved forward to do as he suggested.

He slipped off her shoe and tossed it aside, then peeled the short stocking down her leg, his fingers caressing her calf as he did so. Then her ankle, and then the sensitive sole of her foot.

‘Mmm,’ he said, once her leg was bare. ‘Cream nail polish on your fingers, scarlet red on your toes. I wonder if your work colleagues know the real you, Jordan? The other foot, please.’

‘And who is the real me?’ she said, struggling to keep her voice steady whilst he gave the other foot the same erotic treatment.

‘You’re a closet exhibitionist. And a sensualist.’

Jordan grimaced when he pulled her foot towards him, pressing her toes into him.

‘Rub your foot up and down on me,’ he said.

When she did, a raw groan broke from his lips.

‘You see?’ he said, grabbing her ankle and depositing her by then unsteady foot back on the floor.

She saw nothing, her mind having tipped from reality into that wildly erotic, heart-pounding world where desire ruled and pleasure beckoned.

‘Come closer,’ he commanded.

When she did, he dragged her panties down to her ankles, then bent forward to kiss her stomach.

Jordan’s belly tightened under his lips, her hands lifting to rake through his hair. She groaned when he swirled his tongue in her navel, gasped when his hands slid between her legs, whimpered when his fingers slipped inside her…

His head suddenly lifted from her stomach. ‘Don’t let go yet,’ he warned her, even whilst he continued the most intimate exploration of her body.

‘Oh, God, Gino. I can’t. I…Please…Please…’

‘Now you are the impatient one. I like that. Would you like me inside you now? Tell me how much. Tell me,’ he urged, his eyes like shining black coals as they gazed up at her.

‘Stop tormenting me,’ she cried.

‘But I find I am enjoying it. It makes me feel good to see you this desperate for me.’

‘Just do it, for pity’s sake!’

She was on the bed and under him before she could utter another word. He hooked her ankles over his shoulders, then drove into her. Deep.

‘Is this what you wanted?’ he muttered as he pounded into her.

‘Yes,’ she panted. ‘Yes.’

‘You can come now,’ he growled, just as she splintered apart in an orgasm which blew her mind even further than it was already.

Dimly, she heard him cry out, her senses no longer her own. She was lost, drowning in the heady sensation of his hot seed flooding her womb, exulting in the feel of his flesh pulsating in a rapturous tandem with her own.

It wasn’t till some time afterwards, when their bodies had finally become as quiet as the room, that Jordan’s brain kicked back into gear, her stomach somersaulting at the realisation that Gino hadn’t used any protection.

Not that this was a total disaster. She was on the pill. But her own lack of thought in that regard—and, more to the point, his—was a real worry.

‘Gino,’ she said, her hands pushing at his shoulders.

‘Yes, yes, I know. I’m heavy.’

‘It’s not that. I was just thinking…you…you didn’t use a condom.’

He levered himself up onto his elbows and stared down at her.

‘Are you saying I could have made you pregnant just now?’

‘No. Pregnancy’s not my concern. I’m on the pill.’

‘I promise you I’m no risk to your health,’ Gino reassured her. ‘Look, are you hungry? I am.’

‘I’m starving,’ she confessed.

‘The Room Service menu’s over there, on that desk. In a leather folder. Check it out while I go run us both a bath.’

‘Wait,’ she said. ‘I need to go to the loo first.’

‘I’m not stopping you.’

‘But I don’t—’ She broke off, thinking how she would have died rather than go to the bathroom in front of Chad. Yet when she’d lived with Gino they’d hidden nothing from each other.

But she wasn’t living with Gino any more, came the timely reminder. She was living by herself. An independent, grown-up woman who liked her privacy.

‘I’m sorry, Gino, but I’d prefer to use the bathroom alone.’

He stared at her in surprise, then shrugged. ‘Whatever.’

Jordan hurried, feeling slightly silly at her stance. She’d just let him touch her in very private places, let him strip her and have sex with her. Let him see her come.

Now she had suddenly gone all shy and precious with him. It seemed they couldn’t exactly take up where they’d left off after all. Ten years had gone by. She’d changed, even if he hadn’t.

Gino was waiting outside the bathroom door, totally naked, whilst she’d drawn on one of the hotel’s bathrobes.

‘All yours,’ she said, and bolted past him, not wanting to start staring again.

The Room Service menu was where he’d said it was.

And so was a plane ticket, lying next to it on the desk.

Jordan stared at it for a long moment.

Then she picked it up.