Married Lovers

by Jackie Collins

  “He left me,” she said sadly, her eyes dropping to the very evident bulge in his pants.

  “Why’s that?” he asked, his voice thick with lust.

  “There were certain things he wanted me to do,” she said timidly. “Things that didn’t seem right.”

  “What things?” Seth asked, licking his lips.

  Anya summoned up a blush. “Things that only married people should do…”

  “Such as what?” he insisted.

  Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Oral sex.”

  “I see,” Seth said, feeling beads of sweat form on his brow.

  “What do you think, Mr Carpenter? Is it wrong if two people love each other?”

  “Did you love him?”

  “No.”

  “Did you…uh…do anything else with him?”

  “He touched my breasts. That’s all.”

  “Show me how,” Seth mumbled, unable to control himself any longer.

  This girl was an angel with her delicate innocent face, long fair hair, and extraordinary pale blue eyes.

  She’d been sent his way to save him from a wife who constantly berated and criticized him.

  Fixing him with a direct gaze, Anya slowly began peeling off her T-shirt and started fingering her nipples. “Like this,” she said. “He touched me like this.”

  Mr Seth Carpenter was about to be her first American victim.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “I thought you’d prefer coming here rather than going to a restaurant,” Don said, escorting Cameron onto the outdoor patio around his infinity pool where a dining table for two was set up with all the requisites for a romantic evening. Candles in tall silver holders; purple roses arranged in a series of delicate small glass bowls; a scarlet tablecloth with matching napkins; black thin-stemmed wine glasses; and the pièce de résistance–an all-male trio playing soft Brazilian music.

  She stifled an urge to break out in a fit of giggles. This was so predictable. The Seduction Dinner. And his bed was probably covered in rose petals.

  She hadn’t expected this of Don, she’d thought he would come up with something more original.

  “Uh…lovely,” she managed.

  “Private,” he said, quite pleased with himself.

  Yes, very private, she thought. Two waiters, a chef, a couple of maids and the three-man group. What was up with entertaining in Hollywood?

  One of the waiters approached her with a flute of champagne.

  “No thanks,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ll have water.”

  “Water?” Don questioned.

  “After the other night—”

  “Understood.” He nodded at the waiter. “Get Miz Paradise some Evian. Room temperature. No ice.”

  She was impressed that he remembered.

  “Let’s sit over here,” he said, taking her hand and leading her to a couple of lounge chairs strategically set up to take advantage of the spectacular L.A. view.

  “Don—” she began.

  “Yes?”

  “This is all so unnecessary.”

  “What is?”

  “Everything,” she said, indicating the table and the waiters and the musicians. “It’s excessive.”

  “I thought you’d enjoy it.”

  “Why would you think I’d enjoy something like this? It’s way too formal.”

  “Hey–it’s it’s better than a restaurant where people keep on coming over requesting me to sign bits of stupid paper,” he said, frowning slightly because he’d gone to a lot of trouble–or rather his assistant had.

  “For you–maybe,” Cameron said. “For me–no. I’m not a formal kind of girl.”

  “You’re not, huh?” he said, arching an eyebrow.

  “Can’t you tell?”

  “I wasn’t sure.”

  She laughed softly. “You know, Don, you didn’t need to go to all this trouble just to lure me into bed. I’ve already decided tonight’s the night.”

  “Aren’t you little Miss Romantic,” he said, throwing her a perplexed look.

  “What can I tell you,” she answered with a casual shrug. “Playing games is not my thing.”

  “Apparently not,” he said, totally flummoxed by her offhand attitude.

  “So,” she continued, “this entire set-up is somewhat redundant.”

  “It is, huh?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid it is.”

  “Okay,” he said, getting up. “Never say I don’t listen to reason. Stay here. Do not move.”

  “I’m not moving.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yes, Mr Verona.”

  He hurried inside the house, returning a few minutes later with a big wide grin on his face.

  “What did you do?” she asked.

  “Told everyone to get the hell out,” he said, still grinning. “Believe me–I’m no slouch when it comes to following orders.”

  “You really did that?”

  “Everyone will be gone in five minutes,” he assured her, taking her hands and pulling her up. “Satisfied?”

  “I didn’t think you would—”

  “Yes, you did,” he said, swooping in for a long hot kiss.

  “This doesn’t mean you can rush me,” she warned him, breathlessly extracting herself.

  “Who’s rushing?” he questioned, moving in again for a leisurely second kiss.

  This time she found herself unable to resist. Twining her arms around the back of his neck and pulling him close, she realized how satisfying it would be to make a real connection. And now, with Paradise opening, she felt so much more secure and quite ready to move forward.

  After a few minutes he began kissing her in earnest, his tongue exploring her mouth. They could both feel the heat building between them, and neither of them cared to stop.

  By the time they surfaced for air, everyone had left the house.

  “You did it,” she gasped, drawing away from him. “We’re alone.”

  “Would I lie to you?”

  “I hope not.”

  “So,” he said, throwing her a meaningful look. “No music, no food. What are we gonna do?”

  “I wonder,” she breathed, quite light-headed and full of expectations.

  They began kissing again, standing beside the pool, the lights of L.A. spread out before them.

  It was a long time since she’d enjoyed kissing a man and it was quite a heady experience. She savored every moment–the roughness of his mouth, the feel of his tongue, the sensation of breathing in his aura.

  Gently she reached up and touched his face, stroking the slight stubble on his chin, then moving her hands once again to the nape of his neck.

  He was tall, so was she, their bodies seemed to meld together. Soon she could feel him hard against her thigh and it was turning her on.

  How many times has he done this?

  How many women has he slept with?

  Am I one of hundreds? Thousands?

  Who cared? He was a great kisser, so much better than overenthusiastic Marlon–the only man she’d been with since fleeing Hawaii.

  She knew she was taking a risk, embarking on an adventure with Don Verona.

  Was she making a mistake?

  Ryan’s warning drifted into her head–Don’s a great guy, but he’s been divorced twice, and he does have a love ’em and leave ’em reputation.

  Right now she didn’t give a damn. She had a strong urge to be with someone who cared about her, really cared, and hopefully Don was that someone.

  And if he wasn’t? The thing was, she had to take a chance sometime, may as well go for it.

  Slowly he began peeling down the straps of her white silk camisole, exposing her breasts. “God, you’re beautiful,” he marveled, caressing her nipples with a great deal of expertise.

  The sensation of Don touching her was taking her breath away. She’d only slept with two men, Gregg and Marlon–and neither of them had been into foreplay. She had not expected it to feel this heady and exciting.

/>   Waves of desire overwhelmed her as she feverishly began unbuttoning his shirt, suddenly desperate to feel his skin against hers.

  “Slow down,” he commanded, gripping her wrists. “I’m the guy here, remember?”

  She was so used to calling the shots with Marlon that she wasn’t prepared to be with a man who knew exactly what he was doing. And Don knew all right–his touch sent shivers of ecstasy throughout her entire body.

  His practiced hands started moving down to her waist, then they began undoing the zipper on her white silk pants.

  “This isn’t fair,” she murmured. “I’m not standing here naked while you’re still fully dressed.”

  “You standing out here naked has been my dream ever since you turned up at my house that memorable morning,” he said, husky-voiced. “I saw you at my door that day and I was a goner. That was it for me.”

  And I saw Ryan pacing up and down outside Chow’s and that was it for me.

  Don’t go there, Cameron. You’re making a move with this guy.

  The twice-divorced, love ’em and leave ’em guy?

  Shut up, Ryan. You’re married. It’s none of your business.

  Okay, okay.

  “Get your clothes off,” she ordered, kicking off her shoes and stepping out of her pants.

  “And she’s still bossy,” he said, obligingly starting to strip.

  “Aren’t you glad I made you send everyone home?” she said breathlessly.

  “I gotta admit,” he said, dropping his pants. “You’re an excellent decision maker.”

  “You’ll need a condom,” she managed, admiring his strong physique and impressive hard-on.

  “It’s okay, I just got tested,” he said, his eyes soaking up every inch of her beauty. “You have nothing to worry about.” She was beyond the point of no return. Condom. No condom. Whatever.

  And then it was on, neither of them able to hold off another second. They sank back on one of the loungers and he was on top of her and inside her, and somehow she reversed positions and maneuvered herself astride him. It felt so damn good!

  The sex was hot and frenzied and carnal. They were both so into it. And it went on for quite a while before they reached the pinnacle together.

  “Jesus Christ!” Don exclaimed, rolling off her. “You do not disappoint.”

  “And you,” she murmured, every fiber of her body tingling, “must’ve been working out. I’m very impressed with your stamina.”

  “Hey–gimme gimme ten minutes,” he said, with a lazy grin. “I gotta thank my trainer–she keeps me in tip-top shape.”

  “I can tell. She must be quite something.”

  “Oh yeah, she certainly is.”

  They both started to laugh.

  After a few moments he stood up, pulling her up with him.

  She felt totally invigorated, her skin still tingling with waves of deep-seated pleasure.

  “You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he sighed. “Why’d you make me wait this long?”

  “’Cause I could,” she said, teasing him, all thoughts of Ryan temporarily banished.

  “Jesus, Cam—”

  “What?”

  “I…uh…I think I could be falling in like.”

  “Now let’s not get carried away,” she said lightly, remembering that this guy was a player and that she should tread carefully. Didn’t want to fall. Didn’t want to get hurt.

  “Gonna try,” he said. “Can’t promise anything.”

  Was he full of smooth lines? Or was he genuine?

  She hadn’t quite figured him out.

  With a sudden burst of energy she jumped up and made a running dive into the pool. “Last one in the pool’s a chicken,” she called out, challenging him.

  By the time she surfaced from her dive he was in the water next to her. And once again it was on.

  Making out in the pool was a challenge, but they were both into it, nearly drowning in the process as they came together in a tangle of arms and legs, choking and spluttering for air.

  They finally emerged from the pool, wet and giggling.

  “Wow!” she gasped. “I gotta say–you’re pretty active for an old man.”

  “Old my ass,” he said, picking up a couple of large cabana towels and tossing one at her.

  “How old are you?” she asked, wrapping the towel around her, sarong-style.

  “Thirty-nine. And you?”

  “Twenty-five.”

  “Seems to me that’s about right,” he said, toweling his hair dry.

  “For what?”

  “For you and I to be together.”

  “Yeah, yeah…” she drawled, not quite sure what he meant. It wasn’t as if she was about to move in.

  He threw her a quizzical look. Somehow he knew the chase was only just beginning. Cameron was elusive, he’d have to tread carefully to get her to make any kind of commitment, and wasn’t that a joke, considering he was supposed to be the commitment-phobic one, the one who usually ran in the other direction once the deal was sealed.

  It was getting chilly out, so they made their way into the house.

  “Where’s Butch?” she asked.

  “Had to shut him in the gym.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “’Cause he jumps up on the kitchen counter and eats the chef’s food. The guy’s French, hates dogs.”

  “Great!” Cameron said, frowning. “Can you please go let him out, it’s not fair to shut him away like that.”

  “Yes, ma’am!”

  “Will you stop saying that.”

  “You’ve got to admit–you are bossy.”

  “I told you before–I’m not bossy.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  “Go get your dog.”

  “Yes, m—”

  “Don’t you dare!”

  Laughing, he ran upstairs to release Butch.

  “I’m taking a shower,” she called out after him. “Is that okay?”

  “Go ahead,” he yelled over his shoulder. “I’ll join you in a minute.”

  Hmm…was he insatiable or simply gifted?

  She couldn’t help smiling. The sex was sensational and he was so easy to be around, not at all what she’d expected.

  Do not take it too seriously. The guy’s a big player. Divorced twice. A love ’em and leave ’em kind.

  I’m not looking for an involvement.

  Oh yes you are.

  His shower was state of the art, with jets shooting water from eight different angles, and a glass-enclosed TV.

  A TV in the shower! How wild was that!

  By the time he joined her he was ready to rock ’n’ roll again.

  “What are you–a Viagra freak?” she questioned breathlessly as he soaped her body with the most amazing fragrant soap he informed her he had imported from the South of France.

  “Just lucky, I guess,” he said, smoothing soap onto her nipples, a move which started driving her into a frenzy. “Tried Viagra once, and ended up with a hard-on that lasted three days.”

  “Lucky you,” she murmured.

  “Not so lucky,” he said ruefully. “Had to go to the hospital where a nurse slapped it down.”

  “Sounds painful.”

  “It was,” he said, gently pushing her up against the glass block walls of the shower and maneuvering himself inside her.

  After a few minutes she couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Oh God!” she gasped, climaxing for the third time that night. “You’re—”

  “What?”

  “Pretty…damn…good.”

  Later, swaddled in white toweling bathrobes, they raided the kitchen to see what the chef had left behind. They discovered plenty of hors d’oeuvres–including a selection of tiny baked potatoes filled with caviar, miniature duck pancakes with plum dipping sauce, and baby pizzas.

  Don grabbed a bottle of red wine, and they put everything on a tray and took it into the living room, where they settled in front of a fire, with Butch comfortably stretched o
ut at their feet.

  “Y’know, this is maybe the best night I’ve spent in a long time,” Don mused, putting his arm around her. “You gotta admit we’re very compatible, Cam. Are you feeling it too?”

  “And that would be because–?”

  “’Cause I don’t get the vibe that you want anything from me. Most people do.”

  “What do they want?” she asked curiously.

  “Oh, y’know, my money, my fame…oh yeah,” he added with a hollow laugh, “and my body. But you got that now.”

  “I do?” she said, snuggling close.

  “If you want it.”

  “I’ll take it on a rental,” she said, nibbling on a duck pancake.

  “A rental?”

  “That way it’s nothing permanent.”

  “Oh, so I guess that means you’re not into anything permanent?”

  “Are you?” she responded, tossing it right back at him.

  “You’re an odd one, you know that?” he said, giving her a long, penetrating look.

  “Odd, how?”

  “Mysterious. Not like other women. Do you realize that I don’t know anything about you. Your likes, your dislikes, your dating history. Most women can’t wait to spill all that crap.”

  “That’s because I live in the present, not the past,” she said carefully.

  “Which suits me just fine,” he said, fixing her with another long look, and deciding that yes–she was indeed the perfect woman.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  “How was your visit to that new gym?” Ryan asked, unable to stop himself from going there.

  He’d worked late at his office the previous evening, and when he’d arrived home Mandy was out at one of her charity event meetings. Now it was morning, and he was in his bathroom, shaving, and Mandy had wandered in looking as if she was ready to ask him something. What a relief if the words that came out of her mouth were–I want a divorce.

  He could fantasize, couldn’t he?

  “We didn’t go,” Mandy said. “Mary Ellen got called to the studio.”

  “It’s probably just as well,” Ryan said, keeping his voice even.

  “Why’s that?”