A flush singed her cheeks. No one had ever revealed her in such a way or gazed at her with such ardor. It was both embarrassing and arousing.
“You’re mine,” he stated unequivocally.
All her misgivings evaporated on the musky air between them. A rush of welcoming desire flooded her core. The need to have him buried inside her, filling her completely, was so overwhelming, for a moment she couldn’t speak.
Gia weakly smiled past the lump in her throat and blinked back tears. “Yes. I’m yours.” She would be his as long as possible.
Still holding her legs in the air, he pulled her tight against him, pressed against the ache of her moist sex. Skin to skin, everything inside her screamed with delight as her body accepted every inch to sheathe him.
Moving her hips in a tight circle, she felt the coil inside her tighten. Then he began to make love to her with a slow, sensuous rhythm that turned her liquid in his embrace.
Closing her eyes, she smoothed her palms across her heavy breasts, finding their tender peaks. Fingers closing around the tips, she squeezed. Sweet, sweet pain shot through them, making her back arch off the bed.
“Damn, sweetheart, that’s hot.”
Gia opened her eyes to see Marc staring at her fingers dancing across her nipples.
His nostrils flared. Eyes growing dark with lust, he increased the pace of his hips. “More. Touch yourself.”
She pinched her nipples again at the same time his cock bounced against the back of her pussy, hitting a spot that made her entire body quiver.
“More, Gina.”
More? Trailing a hand over her belly, she passed the small patch of tight curls and swiped a finger across her clit, making herself shiver.
Breathless, he groaned, “Yeah, baby, that’s it. Play with yourself.” Propping her heels against his shoulders, he grasped her hips and fucked her harder, faster.
Powerless to stop the wild hunger whipping through her body, she moved her finger over and over the bud. Her panting sighs turned to whimpers. She wouldn’t last long this way. Even now her spasms made her pussy throb. Rays of sensation filtered throughout her body. Slipping her hand farther down, she circled his cock with her thumb and index finger. Slick and wet, she squeezed and then ran her fingers up and down his length as he thrust inside her.
A primal groan of satisfaction roared up from somewhere inside him. “Son of a bitch! That’s incredible.” His fingers bit into her skin. The thump of their bodies together was more than music, it was pure ecstasy.
Marc was right. It was incredible. He was incredible.
Gia shifted restlessly beneath him. Her breasts ached, nipples stinging. Her body had become a furnace, a flame ready to ignite.
His hips pumped faster, his balls slapping against her ass, stroking that sensitive spot between her slit and her anus. He grunted, thrusting harder and she felt his control slip. Bucking beneath him, her hand squeezed tightly before she released her grip and pinched her clit. She tensed a split second before her scream of pleasure echoed through the bedroom. Vision dimming, she shook as each contraction sent shocks throughout her body, her hand falling away.
Marc reared back and drove forward before he ground against her swollen clit, sending another series of spasms crashing through her body. Her inner muscles clenched greedily around his cock. Her tattered cry mixed with his as her sex tightened and released, milking him.
A minute later her legs fell from his shoulders, dropping slowly to the bed. He collapsed atop her. His heavy weight trapped her, but she had no complaints. Both their bodies were moist and hot from their loving. Her heart pounding in her ears matched his beating wildly beneath his chest, lying against hers.
A smile curved his lips. He pressed them to her forehead and then rolled off her. “I could live like this forever.” He pulled her into his arms and she snuggled close.
So could she, but how long was forever?
Neither of them slept as they lay wrapped in each other’s arms. Moonlight filtered through the break in the curtains. Outside Marc could hear the last of the die-hard partiers whooping and hollering. Several people appeared to have had one too many drinks tonight. The music had ended thirty minutes ago but that didn’t stop a man who couldn’t hold a tune as he belted out a song Marc had never heard before.
Gina giggled. “Sounds like Faith will have her hands full tonight.”
“Parker?”
“Parker,” she confirmed.
“I like your family,” Marc said before he realized it.
She cuddled closer. “I get the feeling they like you too.”
Smoothing his palm down her bare back, he wondered about her father. “Your dad hasn’t said much.”
“He’s a wait-and-see kind of guy. He’ll withhold judgment for a while longer.” Gina slid her silky leg up and down Marc’s.
“Your mother?”
“Only positive comments from her.”
He twirled a lock of her hair between his fingers and then buried his nose in the silky mass, inhaling her sweet scent. “Sister?”
“Other than thinking you’re sex on a stick? I haven’t spoken to her much.”
“Sex on a stick?” He chuckled.
Gina nudged him in the side. “Don’t be getting any ideas. Remember you’re mine.”
It thrilled him to hear her say that. He pressed his lips to her forehead and held her a little closer. Hopefully, tomorrow she would remember the endearing words they had exchanged this night.
Except for the flutter of a couple of people below, silence filled the space between them. His eyelids were heavy, falling as sleep approached.
“Marc?”
“Huh?”
She hesitated, releasing a soft sigh. “Never mind. Go back to sleep.”
“I’m not sleeping.” In fact, he was wide awake now. Clearly, something was nagging her.
“We’ll talk tomorrow,” she insisted.
Tomorrow planned to be a hell of a day. One he would rather not confront, but knew he had no choice. Either Gina would be his forever or she’d send him packing.
There was no doubt in his mind he couldn’t walk away. If he had to pursue her ’til the end of time, he would. Another woman would never satisfy him.
He wanted—no, needed Gina.
Chapter Eleven
Beneath the large pavilion, a smorgasbord of food from a variety of cereals to Belgian waffles and custom omelets made by a chef behind a grill was available. The juicy aroma of sausage and bacon wafted in the crisp morning air laced with pine and the sweet scent of flowers arranged on each table. Gia sliced into her eggs Benedict, the rich hollandaise sauce oozing from the sides, and took a bite. Chewing, she smiled at her mother and sister as they took a seat beside her.
“Marc with the others?” Becka asked.
Several of the men had risen early to go fishing.
Before speaking, Gia took a drink of water to wash down her breakfast. “Yes. They left at dawn.” Several hours after she and Marc had finally gone to sleep. How he rose this morning she’d never know. It had been chilly and way too early for her liking. She disliked it even more when she realized she would be deprived of his warmth next to hers.
Over a cup of coffee, her mother looked at Gia. “He seems very attentive to you.”
Another grin found its way to her lips. “He does, doesn’t he?”
In his arms, she had found a small slice of happiness. No matter what Marc really was, he made her feel special.
Nibbling on a piece of dry toast, her mouth full, Becka glanced between Gia and their mother. “So is he the one?”
Gia wanted to say yes, but her better judgment swooped in at the last minute. “No. Just entertainment for a while.” The realization washed the joy from her soul, leaving an empty hole.
If this was love—it sucked.
How could she give him up? He was everything she had ever wanted. Well, except he wasn’t human and there would be no children.
Dammit. She di
dn’t want to think about this right now.
A male android with cold blue eyes and blond hair, holding a tray of juices and pitchers of coffee and water stopped by their table and her mother shooed him onward before he could interrupt.
“Don’t let Aunt Clare hear you say that. After last night’s event with your agent, she has Marc on a pedestal and wedding bells ringing,” Becka warned.
“Great. And that’s former agent.” That’s all Gia needed to deal with. Thank God they were leaving tomorrow. The thought of having Marc all to herself back home was appealing. Could she hide him in her mansion so that no one was the wiser?
“Clearly, he thinks you’re the one.” Her mother blew the steam from her coffee and then took a sip.
“It’s star infatuation. He’ll get over it.” But would she? Even now all she wanted to do was be by his side. He was a drug in her veins. She had to have him.
Yet what if the media discovered the truth?
The thought made her stomach roll. Time was against them. Even if she kept him under lock and key, while she aged, grew wrinkled and gray, he would still be in pristine shape, never getting older or fat.
Gia pushed her plate away, suddenly no longer hungry.
“Grandpa!” Becka yelled, getting up from her chair and moving toward him. “I thought you were ill?” She walked into his open arms. “Mom, he doesn’t look well.”
“Ill? Me?” His voice shook.
Gia noted his pale complexion. He was dressed in tan khakis and a brown polo shirt, and his hair had thinned since the last time she’d seen him. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he was shrinking in height too.
Her mother rose. “Dad, are you sure you’re all right?”
He frowned. “Stop all this fussing, Becka.” He planted a kiss on her cheek before receiving his daughter. “I’m as fit as a fiddle.”
Their mother gave him a squeeze and released him.
Stepping forward, he turned his sharp gaze on Gia. “Come here, my little shining star.”
Gia moved to her feet and stepped into his embrace. “Grandpa.” Breathing in his subtle cologne, memories raced through her head. He had always been supportive of her career. Maybe that’s because he had told her once that she could always come home.
He leaned close to her ear. “Everything okay?”
“Fine,” she lied.
Holding her at arm’s length, he openly scrutinized her. “Lies. They are wallowing in your eyes.”
“Oh Grandpa.” Gia’s smile didn’t come close to reaching those lying eyes he referred to.
“Nothing to do with that Charleston boy, is it?” he grumbled.
Gia flinched. “Why would you say that?” And who had been talking to him about Marc?
“I guess I didn’t mention that your grandfather knows Marc personally. Plus, he has accounts with our bank.” Her mother pulled a chair out and motioned for her father to sit down, while Becka went to the breakfast bar to retrieve him a plate.
Gia nearly swallowed her tongue. “What?”
Oh God.
There was an actual Marc Charleston out there. Well, of course, there would be. The world was a huge place. But what were the odds that her grandfather would know the real Mr. Charleston and that he would have accounts with their banks?
Grabbing the back of the chair to steady herself, Gia attempted to regroup. “How? I mean—” She cleared her throat. Slowly she sank into her chair. “How do you know Marc?”
“I met him at the Klondike Charity Auction and played golf with him once about two years ago. Our paths cross occasionally at other charity functions, and I knew his parents when they were alive.” He glanced up at Becka as she set a plateful of fruit and eggs before him, along with a cup of steaming coffee. “Thanks, sweetie.”
“Welcome, Grandpa.” She took a seat next to him.
“His parents?” Gia repeated, unable to keep her disbelief from seeping into her voice. Her mother as well as Becka flashed worried looks in her direction.
This couldn’t be happening. The minute her grandfather was introduced to her Marc their lie would be known.
“Elaine, you remember those two scientists, husband and wife team, that lost their lives when their spaceship exploded? I believe they were headed to the moon on an expedition.” He picked up his coffee and took a careful sip. “Good people.” He shook his head. “Sad situation. Marcus was so young.”
Gia tensed.
Damn the Institute. They had stolen another man’s identity.
Wait. She had chosen Marc’s last name. Yet this couldn’t be a coincidence. Her heart palpitated as though it would jump out of her chest. Something smelled fishy and it wasn’t the kipper on her grandfather’s plate.
“Uh, Grandpa?” Gia picked up her water glass and took a drink that went down like acid, or was that bile starting to burn its way up her throat? “How long do you plan to stay?”
“I’ll be here until tomorrow.” He picked up a piece of watermelon and took a bite. “That is if your mother has a bed for me to rest these weary bones?”
“Of course, Dad. Your room is always ready.”
“Good. That will give me time to catch up with Charleston and ask what his intentions are.” The old man gave Gia a playful wink.
Gia attempted to make herself smaller, sinking down in her chair. Holding her breath, she tried not to think what would happen when her grandfather and Marc met. Maybe they could leave tonight, before there was any encounter.
“You all right, Gina?” Becka asked.
“Huh? Y-yes. I’m fine. Just tired. I must have partied too hard last night.”
“Uh… You and Marc were the first to leave. Maybe it wasn’t the partying that kept you up all night, but that gorgeous hunk you’re with.”
Her grandfather cocked a brow, narrowing his sight on Gia. Heat flared across her cheeks.
“Becka.” Their mother’s voice dropped an octave. “Now, no one made note of your and Victor’s absence or for that matter the boat rocking in the lake.”
“Mom!” A blush suffused Becka’s face. She ducked her head, looking intently at the remainder of her breakfast.
Gia took the opportunity to shift everyone’s eyes off her. “Becka and Vic always have liked the water.”
The chilly expression Becka cast Gia made her chuckle.
“Is this true, Becka?”
“Grandpa! We’re married and…” She prattled on, but her voice was white noise to Gia.
Her gut was telling her something wasn’t right.
She snuck a peek at her mother who was chatting with her father. Evidently her mom hadn’t seen a picture of the real Marc Charleston.
A clap of thunder made her as well as everyone else beneath the large tent jump. Nervous laughter filled the area.
Great. A summer storm.
Gia hadn’t noticed the scent of rain or the graying clouds that were more than obvious now, blocking out the sun and dimming the area so that the lights in the tent flickered on. The pavilion’s side panels were moaning as they slipped into place, blocking out the wind that had kicked up, sending the android waiters scurrying to catch napkins caught in the breeze. In seconds the heaters would turn on and warmth would dissolve the chill in the room, but not her bones.
The entire congregation would be trapped together.
That’s all Gia needed. To be sequestered in this area unable to escape. She was dying to get on the computer to take a look at the real Marc Charleston.
At the first sign of clouds gathering, Paul Easton had recommended they pack up and head back to the house. Lightning zigzagging across the sky had been known to change direction and start more than a few forest fires. It wasn’t safe.
Even though a light sprinkle began, Paul appeared to be lagging behind. Did the man want to talk? Marc dropped back from the crowd.
“So android development is lucrative?” Paul shifted his fishing pole to his other hand.
Scott sidled up to them. His expression s
aid he wanted to hear Marc’s answer.
“Very lucrative.” He didn’t expand on his answer.
“I’m curious,” Scott said, “do you think this is just a fad with women?”
Marc shook his head. “No. Women are really no different than men. There are a number of reasons why women are lonely or dissatisfied, looking for other entertainment or companionship.”
Scott harrumphed. “There can’t be that many similarities.”
“You’d be surprised. Not enough sex in or out of marriage. Self-esteem. Revenge or payback for past wrongs.” He shrugged. “You know, an eye for eye or Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Some feel neglected or underappreciated. Their mates emotionally withdraw. Lack of intimacy. Bedroom boredom. Of course, just like men, some women want to wear the ‘bad girl’ emblem for the night.”
“So your units cure all their woes?” A hint of sarcasm rose in Scott’s tone. His father reprimanded him with a single scornful look.
“No. I provide a product that serves many needs. How one chooses to use them is up to that particular person. In reality, there is so much more to my androids than pleasure, but who am I to knock pleasure?”
“What about Gina? She’s been hurt too many times and taken advantage of,” Paul stated bluntly. “What’s going on between the two of you?”
The young Mr. Easton’s directness took Marc aback for a moment. He’d better tread lightly. “We’re exploring the possibilities. I care very deeply for your daughter, but there is no denying that we live different lifestyles. I guess it’ll depend on the paths we both take in the future.” What he really wanted to say is that he loved her and that if she would have him, he was hers forever.
The remainder of their return passed in silence, especially since the rain had increased and all of them picked up the pace. Marc was out of breath by the time they reached the house. He stomped off the mud on his shoes before entering. The large dwelling was unusually quiet. Little activity was about except for a few of the staff who noted the footprints they were leaving on the clean marble floor. In a split second a small robot appeared, working quickly to remove all tracks.
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