Naked Love

by Jones, Lisa Renee

  By the time we'd reached the willow trees, we were both hot and ready to take a break. The shady spot, along with the picnic basket I'd ordered waiting for us on a blanket, was a welcome sight. It was the first time I'd ever arranged a picnic, and I figured I should do it right if I was going to do it at all. Giselle dropped down onto the blanket with so much enthusiasm her hat fell off. I caught it with my hand and handed it back to her. "I hope there is food in that big basket because I am starved. The flowers were a beautiful distraction, but this looks just as lovely to me right now."

  "I agree," I said, only I wasn't referring to our scenic spot or the picnic basket. "Why don't you open it and find out."

  I could watch her for hours and not get bored. It was the truth. And even though it still shocked the hell out of me, I didn't try to make excuses for the things I felt that I couldn't even name. Honestly, feeling anything at all for a woman I'd known for all of two days was something I never saw coming.

  She took my suggestion and opened the lid, revealing wine, cheese, a collection of fruit and other delicious things topped off with a baguette broken in two. "You didn't!" Giselle's delight—her transparent joy—over something as simple as a packed picnic basket only made me want to do more things like this for her. I should be working. I never would have taken days off like this for Cassidy, but for Giselle… She was unreserved with her smiles, happy with simplicity, and seemed to find the good in everything. I couldn't get enough of her.

  I reached over and snagged one half of the baguette and took a big bite. "You're right, I didn't. Ted's Butcherblock packed it up for me. And you should be really happy about that because I am certain Ted does one hell of a better job than I ever could."

  "Well, I shall be grateful to Ted then, because he has made us a beautiful picnic, but thank you, for arranging it."

  We spent the next hour eating and laughing while we chatted under a huge old willow tree with branches weeping so low we were pretty much under our own private umbrella. I started asking questions, hoping she might finally tell me something about her life. "So, you really are an artist—like as a job?"

  With two fingers, she wiped the crumbs from her lips and swallowed before responding. "Yes, I really am an artist. Now, do not mistake me, I do not, exactly, ‘live large’ as you say. But what I do earn is enough to get by."

  "How old are you?"

  She giggled. "Even I know that asking a lady her age is a faux pas in any language, but I don't mind telling you I am recently turned twenty-four."

  So young. Younger than I thought.

  "Apologies for my breach of manners, but I'm just curious how someone so young can be so carefree and yet certain of what they want to do." There was something about Giselle that was so diverse and so physical. Like a wild creature in its natural habitat. Except her natural habitat was everywhere. She knew where she wanted to be and she just…went there.

  "What?" she teased with a gentle prod into my ribs. "Is it so surprising in America to see someone doing what they actually want to?"

  "A little bit, yes," I admitted. "But I think it's a dying trend though, just chasing safe jobs. Anyway, I do what I like, mostly."

  Nibbling on the edge of a triangle of cheese, she looked up with interest. "What is it you do that you mostly like, Gage?"

  "I'm a commercial architect, and a partner in a gin distillery with two brothers I've known all my life. I am not as involved in the gin business as my partners, Reeve and Reid Greymont, but my name is on the label."

  "Like gin to drink? You make it? What is the name of this special gin, so I can buy it?"

  "You don't have to do that. I'll give you a tour of the plant sometime if you're interested. Greymont-Danielson is the name, but our label shows a turquoise ‘G’ and ‘D’ on a hexagon bottle."

  "Oh my God, that is you, G & D Gin? You are the ‘D’ with…Danielson? I have seen it in the shops."

  I nodded. "Yeah, I'm in involved with the Charleston plant with Reid. There's a larger one in Wilmington that his brother, Reeve runs. But I am an architect by trade…" I trailed off, not sure why beyond the fact I was in the wide-open outdoors, but yet talking about work felt like the walls were closing in on me.

  "And why do you mostly like what you do?" Giselle missed nothing in conversation I'd noticed. She was an excellent listener and very easy to talk to, so the words sort of tumbled out of my mouth.

  "It's being here...in Charleston." I popped a grape in my mouth and chewed. Swallowed. Giselle waited patiently for me to continue. "I think maybe I need a change...from some things I'd like to forget. I don't know all the answers, but I might want to leave at some point."

  Giselle nodded understandingly. "Even if somewhere is our home, and we love it dearly, that does not mean that staying indefinitely is always right." The brown pools of her eyes reflecting the green boughs of the willow tree swaying all around us looked a bit sorrowful.

  "Sounds like you know what you're talking about," I said.

  "I suppose…" She began tracing the design in the pattern of the blanket with her fingers.

  I closed my hand around hers, and when she looked up at me, I asked, "Why did you come here?"

  Her lips parted, as if preparing to say something, but then she diverted her attention back to the picnic basket and said, "I do hope Ted has packed us something lovely for dessert."

  She doesn't want to tell you.

  So, I decided to leave her alone. After all, Giselle and I didn't really know each other, and I still hadn't even told her about…

  "I was engaged. Recently."

  She turned toward me, the intensity in her eyes understanding and questioning both at the same time. Why did I just say that to her? Was I trying to goad her into a sharing session where I would find out more about her? I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours, kind of thing?

  Whatever the case, with her intelligent eyes resting on me now, there was no way to sidestep the truth. "It was a…mistake," I said carefully.

  She pressed her pink lips together and nodded once, letting it drop.

  It was a relief knowing that as far as the sharing game went, Giselle was willing to accept my silence if I was willing to accept hers. For now. But a part of me wants more.

  "So, what about these for dessert?" I lifted a container of strawberries from the basket and handed it to her.

  "I hope there are Twinkies to go with the strawberries," she said.

  "Twinkies?"

  "Yes, the small cakes in the shape of a tube with cream inside them. They taste good, no?" She looked sincere enough as she described what a Twinkie was, but so many times already…her wicked sense of humor had held the upper hand over me.

  "I know what a Twinkie is, Giselle. But what I want to know…are you messing with me right now?" She had to be. A girl like her would not have a Twinkie addiction, would she? I really had no idea with her anymore. Teasing me was one of her best skills.

  "No." She shook her head. "I have never tried a Twinkie, but I'd like to. I just thought maybe Ted would have"–she gestured toward the basket and shrugged—"you know, packed them for our dessert." She even looked mildly disappointed as she said, "It is fine if you don't have Twinkies today, but some time I do want to try one."

  "If you've never had one, I'm not sure you're going to like them—but they might have Twinkies in the gift shop where they sell snacks. Want to wait here while I go try to find you some?" I guess you could say I'd officially lost my fuckin' mind, with no end in sight to the madness that seemed to overtake me when I was with her. Twinkies, dude.

  Giselle shook her head and crossed her arms across her chest. "I think you will never learn, Gage Danielson, when I am teasing you, but I will keep testing my theory." She then broke into peals of laughter while trying to get the words out, "Twi—twink—twink-ieees…are j-just the m-most—oorri-blllle—"

  I pounced before she could get the rest of words out, pressing her down to the blanket and tickling her until she shrieked, begging me
to stop. "I think it's lucky for you I very much like your wicked teasing, Giselle Fleury, but I'll wise up eventually." What I really wanted was to kiss her senseless and then slide her silky dress up her legs, so I could take my sweet time making her shriek for another reason. But that wasn't exactly possible in public gardens so I made do with the smiling contest we were having instead.

  "If you release me, I can make it worth your while."

  With the sound of her sexy promise purring in my ears, I eased off her to lie on my side facing her. "I am intrigued."

  Giselle put on one helluva sexy show as she pulled a glossy red strawberry out of the bowl and bit down slowly.

  Then she brought her berry to my lips and pressed it against them. My eyes locked onto hers; I opened my mouth and bit down. As the sweet taste swept over my tongue, Giselle closed her eyes and sighed, "Strawberries…my favorite."

  No sooner had she opened her eyes, she bit into another berry, again offering its smaller form to me. This time, I bit closer, my lips brushing her fingers and holding them there. She didn't move, or take her eyes off me.

  And so, the game began. Each shared strawberry brought us closer together. Until there was only one last berry left, which I snatched out of her fingers before she could feed it to me.

  I pressed it to her pouting lips this time. Her eyes lowered to the strawberry, then rose back to meet mine, unmoving as she slowly bit into it.

  I kissed her just like that—with a strawberry in her mouth.

  So, my next taste was of her…of strawberry and want…and Giselle.

  We kissed for a long time, savoring the final part of our dessert—the taste of each other.

  She was soft in my arms, her skin petal smooth, as if she was a moving, breathing flower that had floated away from inside the gardens. We chased lips and tongues, pressing inside for more and more. Our fingertips stroked and explored, becoming bolder with the swish of wind egging us on. We kissed and rolled on and over each other in the grass. Until we found ourselves somehow in the space behind the huge old tree and a patch of tall sunflowers. A private cove that shielded us from view.

  On top of me, Giselle paused to look through the tall flowers which fanned out high above us. "Oh no. Please do not tell me this is the part where the aliens come and get us."

  I laughed. The shit she says…is freaking adorable.

  Leaning over, she delivered another kiss to my lips, her eyes half-lidded in that sultry way that had my cock hard and twitching.

  "Seriously, though." Her gaze traced over me in curious strokes. "What happens now?"

  There was something of a dare in her question and the way it dropped to my crotch, so I decided to do her one better. Flexing my cock upward against her ass, I said, "Why don't you ask him?"

  I saw a bit of fear in the excitement sparking in her brown eyes as she bit down on her lip, but it didn't deter her, because…she reached for the top button of my jeans.

  She's not actually…

  But my jeans were open, and my briefs were shoved down by her busy, busy hands. Giselle was going—down—on—me in a public garden. Is this real? Is she real?

  "Someone's happy to see me." She took me in her hand and stroked, giving one last sultry look of pure lust before dipping her head down. Her sweet lips met the head of my cock in a wash of feathery sensation that had me groaning incoherently in less than a second.

  "...have no idea, baby…fuuuuuuck…ahhh yeah..."

  The random words spilling from my mouth as she peppered my cock with kisses only helped to remind me this was really happening. It wasn't just some fantasy I was jerking myself off to. Her tongue took over, hot and wet and stroking up and down my dick.

  I had to open my eyes to make sure we were out of sight because my mind was perilously lost in GiselleIsSuckingMyCockLand…and hoping like hell to stay there. But we were securely surrounded by tall sunflowers and a massive tree trunk, hidden from others who might come near. Still dangerously public though as Giselle's expert full lips performed a lewd act upon my eagerly cooperating cock.

  I had to grit my teeth and clench my hands into fists to stop myself from losing it on the spot. It wasn't just her open-jawed lips wrapped around my cock, or her tongue-swirling way of sucking me down. No. It was how she moaned around my cock as she did it, as if it was giving her as much pleasure as it was giving me.

  And then a hand cupped my balls as sweet series of sucks began. Each one a perfected work of art. Long, painstaking savoring as she sucked all the way down to the base so that the tip of my cock bottomed out against the back of her throat. An actual moan came out of her lips as she came up, sending sparks of pleasure firing through my legs.

  As her other hand took over the skillful stroking, she was all about quick slickness and flow. Up, down, and around, she sucked. Bobbing her head side to side. Angling her mouth. Seeing her virtually worshipping my cock, it took all I had not to burst on the spot.

  And then, when she peeled my cock out of her mouth and started rubbing it over and around her lips, I thought I would die right there.

  "So hard…" Her saliva-sweetened smile purred with pleasure.

  You're making it so fucking hard.

  When she put me in her mouth again, I knew I was close. Clearly, she did too. This time, slow was a thing of the past. Her lips and tongue throttled up and down me fast, deep, and hard.

  Blood rushed in my ears.

  With the scents of earth and grass and flowers all around me, my eyes opened.

  Seeing her on hands and knees working over my cock while sexy moans rolled out of her, I lost it. "Giselle! I'm gonna come."

  She didn't back off me, though, even with my desperate warning.

  I came. Hard. Spurt after spurt of white-hot ecstasy shot out of me as my fingers sunk into her hair, and she sucked me down hungrily.

  Perfect fucking impossible bliss…

  And how was this even happening? How was any of this real? This woman? Giselle? This this…now?

  I sagged back into the soft grass and opened my eyes hazily.

  Giselle was wiping the side of her lips daintily with her fingers.

  Then she crawled up to meet my lips for a final kiss. As casually as if we'd just finished our meal and left it at that, she draped herself in my arms and looked through the branches at the sunny blue sky. Giselle smiled up at the white clouds and then at me, with nothing but happiness and easiness in the moment. "I love strawberries," she said softly.

  I think strawberries love you too.

  "When I have you back at my place later I'm returning the favor. Repeatedly."

  "Oui, I cannot wait," she said against my neck.

  Neither can I, my tempting French beach fairy.

  7

  Time passed in a whirlwind after our memorable afternoon at Magnolia Gardens.

  Days of working and surfing turned into a week of afternoon trysts and nights with Giselle. The week turned into a month of having her with me on the beach—at my house—in my bed.

  Giselle. The addictive enigma who, even after all this time, I still seemed to have only scratched the surface of. My mysterious Gi, as I called her now.

  Lying in bed on my side, I could see her through the bedroom's open balcony. The moonlight traced an unearthly glow over her slim curves showing through the transparent nightgown she'd put on.

  The sight had me pulling on shorts and leaving the bed to be with her as she leaned on the railing and admired the night sky. When I wrapped my arms around her from behind, she froze for a second as if I'd broken her out of a deep trance. But she then relaxed into my hold, resting her weight against me, our bodies flush.

  "I was just thinking." Her voice was clear. As clear as the shining full moon above us. "About how long it has been. About us."

  "Me too," I said.

  "Must be the full moon," she said with a little laugh.

  "One of the first jobs my dad got when he was in his early twenties was at a corrections facility. He said it
was at a full moon when the great majority of the fights and madness occurred like clockwork."

  She turned her head to meet my eyes.

  "The question is, what kind of madness does it mean for us now?"

  The challenge I saw in her eyes suddenly weighed me down. Although I didn't want to let go of her, I slumped back to sit on the end of the chaise lounge.

  "You know, it feels like there's enough madness already." She waited for me to say more. "These feelings—I mean…they're just…not at all what I expected."

  She continued with her moon-gazing. "Not what you expected in a good way? Or bad?"

  Pushing upright, I caught her by the waist and flopped back into the chaise, bringing her down with me.

  "Bad, obviously." I nuzzled and kissed her neck. "So terribly bad."

  She laughed lightly. "Me too. What a summer being stuck with this Gage guy."

  As we laughed, she eased herself back, until her head rested on my shoulder. "Seriously, though. When I came to Charleston, I never expected…to find…someone like you."

  Her hand rested on top of mine, facing forward as we held them up, and I could see how much smaller her delicate fingers were compared to mine. Fingers that drew portraits, that touched my body with perfect skill, that I loved to have in my mouth and kiss.

  "Same. When I met you, I was in a low place mentally. My ex and I had just recently broken up and…"

  "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

  The free pass was implicit in her words even though I wouldn't accept it. Not this time.

  I focused on the glossy circle of the moon and stroked her silky hair through my fingers.

  "We fought for more than half of our relationship. About the stupidest things, too, like…my socks on the floor. Although I think, deep down, all that was because of the real problems, the ones we barely talked about. I couldn't open up to her."

  Giselle stiffened against me slightly, but she didn't speak. She was in listening mode. And since this was something I wanted her to know about me, I kept on talking. Because this wasn't really about her—it was about me. I was saying these things out loud for myself.