Unforgettable You: Destiny Romance

by Georgina Penney

  ‘You giving me a hint?’ Jo asked, laughing. ‘Do I smell that bad?’

  ‘Nope. Just looking for an excuse.’ He turned back to her and swiftly unbuttoned her shirt, then her jeans, while taking every chance he could get to run his hands over her bare skin.

  ‘An excuse for what?’ Jo asked, curious, eyes half closed, mouth curled into a Cheshire cat smile.

  ‘To get you naked,’ he replied with a naughty grin before reaching behind her back to unhook her bra.

  ‘Easy, tiger.’ She held up her hand, pushing against his chest. ‘Haven’t you heard that good things come to those who wait? Bugger off, and I’ll be out in a second.’

  ‘Why?’ His eyes widened in surprise, his hands stationary on her waist, mouth forming a pout.

  ‘Because I just flew a few thousand miles in this underwear, and I’d rather take it off by myself,’ Jo said, giving him a glare that had sent roughnecks running for cover many times before.

  Stephen didn’t run anywhere. Instead, he looked down speculatively at her bare breasts, as if deciding whether to argue the issue.

  ‘You’ll be quick?’ he asked eventually, running a long finger from her collarbone down to one nipple and then across to the other. They furled into tight buds, and Jo shivered before catching his hands.

  ‘Promise. Just give me a few minutes.’

  ‘If you’re not out in five minutes, I’ll have to come in here and carry you to bed,’ he said seductively, sliding his finger down the middle of her stomach.

  She caught it just as it ventured below her navel. ‘I’d like to see you try.’

  ‘So would I.’ Stephen ducked the jeans she threw at him as he walked out the door.

  Jo ended up taking just a little longer than she’d intended because the water was so warm and the feeling of anticipation building in her lady parts was too good to let go of so quickly.

  He ended up making her pay for it once they got to the bedroom.

  ‘Stephen! Oh my God!’

  ‘That’s my name, don’t wear it out.’ Stephen chuckled, his blond head dipping again between Jo’s thighs as he went back to the task of driving her insane, until her legs tensed up so much she thought her muscles were going to snap.

  She gripped his hair, laughing and whimpering, pushing herself against his mouth as his tongue flicked over her before she felt it delving inside her in a way that made her scream and writhe against him. ‘Finish it!’

  He blew gently on her clit and eased a finger inside her, grinning wickedly. ‘Ask nicely.’

  ‘You. Bastard!’ Jo groaned, reaching down with a hand to touch herself.

  ‘Uh-uh.’ He caught her fingers with his spare hand and gave them a gentle bite before intertwining them with his. ‘Ask nicely.’

  ‘Please.’ Jo gasped and wailed, back arching as she felt another finger go deep inside her. A pressure filled her lower body so intensely that she screamed in frustration as Stephen leaned down and gently bit her clit while his fingers worked their magic.

  She saw stars.

  ‘Hold that thought,’ he muttered roughly before she felt him slide up her body and push himself deep. When he couldn’t go any further, he stilled, looking down at her with heavy-lidded eyes, muscles in his shoulders and arms straining.

  She whimpered and tried to move, but he held still, his weight pinning her down.

  ‘What was that?’ he asked in a gravelly voice, rearing back.

  ‘Deeper,’ she demanded, pushing against his chest, moving his arms one by one and lifting her long legs, hooking her knees over his shoulders. They both groaned in unison at the heightened sensation.

  Stephen started a slow, steady rhythm that had them both sweating and Jo screaming again before they were done, coming hard a second time, before he rolled them over, Jo on top, so he could reach between them and touch her where she needed it most. He laughed roughly before shouting when his own release hit him, his whole body shaking as he rolled them over again, collapsing on top of her, his head in the crook of her neck.

  ‘Oomph,’ Jo muttered, hiding her smile against in his sweat-dampened hair.

  ‘Shaddup,’ Stephen said softly, his head buried in the pillow beneath them, body vibrating with silent laughter.

  Jo bit his shoulder hard enough to get his attention.

  ‘Ouch!’ He pushed himself up onto his elbows.

  ‘Shaddup.’ Jo ran her hand along the side of his face. ‘I really did miss you. Is that stupid?’

  ‘Completely,’ Stephen purred, rubbing his stubble-roughened cheek against her palm like a cat.

  ‘Did you miss me? Like really miss me?’ Jo asked, a little scared at how much she needed to hear the right answer from him. It was too soon to be asking questions this heavy, but she needed to know.

  Instead of brushing her off, he leaned down and gave her an impossibly sweet, gentle kiss. ‘Yeah, but don’t let it go to your head.’ Before she could react, he rolled over again and took her with him, tucking her head under his chin. ‘Now let me get some sleep, you’ve worn me out.’

  Hearing the mischief in his voice, she punched him lightly on the shoulder.

  He yelped, chuckling. ‘I missed you. Almost too much. Happy?’

  ‘Yep.’ Feeling immeasurably content and satisfied, she gave a yawn that would put a tiger to shame and let herself drift off, enjoying the steady thump of his heart beneath her ear.

  Chapter 13

  The rumble of Boomba’s loud purr a few inches from Jo’s ear woke her from the first decent sleep she’d had in weeks. She mumbled incoherently and half opened her eyes, reaching up to push the cat away. He let out a loud, irritated chirrup before jumping off the bed and heading for more comfortable surroundings. Presumably in the kitchen.

  ‘I hope you’re not going to treat me the same way.’ Stephen said, his sleep-roughened voice sending a warm shiver down her spine.

  ‘Nope. Not if you’re good.’ She twisted her head around and gave him a lazy grin, stretched, then looked down at the mess they’d made of her bed. Stephen was gloriously naked in the middle of it, lying on his side, propped up on an elbow, giving her his full attention.

  ‘You know, this is the first time I’ve been in your room other than to put you to bed when you were drunk and disorderly after that night out with Mike,’ he said, eyes lazily drinking in her sleep-flushed cheeks and rumpled hair.

  ‘Really?’ Jo rolled over to face him fully, the sheet twisting around her. She pushed it to her hips. ‘Didn’t we sleep in here before I left for Mauritania last time?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Huh. And you didn’t sneak a peek in here while I was away?’

  ‘Nope. Didn’t seem right.’ His eyes wandered down to her bare breasts, and for some unaccountable reason she blushed and pulled up the sheet.

  He grinned widely. ‘No, don’t. Leave it there.’ He reached out to lightly stroke a nipple, which pebbled into a hard nub. ‘Damn, I love it how they do that.’

  Feeling a liquid rush of pleasure flow through her, Jo reached over and tweaked one of the flat brown disks nestled in the light smattering of gold-coloured hair on his chest, enjoying the way his eyes narrowed. ‘I could say the same here,’ she said huskily.

  ‘Could you now?’ Stephen ran a finger down the bridge of her nose and then along her bottom lip.

  ‘Yep.’ Jo inched her inquisitive hand down his flat stomach, enjoying the feel of his muscles tensing under her touch.

  A feline howl from the kitchen interrupted her hand’s movement.

  ‘Some peace and quiet here would be nice!’ Stephen bellowed, scowling at the doorway. The cat howled again in response.

  ‘He’s got a point. It is breakfast time.’ Jo grinned at the indignant pout on Stephen’s lips and moved her hand off his stomach to push herself upright.

  ‘No, I’ve got a bloody point. He’s a pest.’ Stephen looked morosely down at his impressive display of morning wood.

  ‘Your point can wait.’ Jo leaned
down and gave it a sneaky kiss, then jumped off the bed and ran to the bathroom before Stephen could grab her.

  ‘No it can’t!’ he roared indignantly, only to be drowned out by Boomba, who’d revised his strategy, deciding on a more direct, in-your-face approach.

  The cat jumped up onto the bed near Stephen’s feet and gave another near-deafening howl. Stephen threw a pillow at him, which the cat predictably ducked. In the end Stephen gave in and made his way to feed the cat in the kitchen.

  ‘You’re bloody lucky I don’t strangle you and use you for a doorstop,’ he grumbled. Unamused, Boomba gave him a short meow that could be interpreted as ‘bollocks to you’ in any language, before going back to his breakfast.

  Knowing that Jo would be spending half the morning in the shower, Stephen took his time making himself a coffee before wandering back into her bedroom. He hadn’t lied when he’d told her he’d avoided her room since that night months ago. He’d been tempted, especially these past few weeks, but something had always held him back. It was Jo’s space, and as long as she’d not invited him into it, he’d felt like his presence was an invasion of sorts. Now he had an invitation, it was a different matter entirely.

  Like the rest of the apartment, Jo’s bedroom was full of good-quality, simply designed dark-wood furniture with only a single large black-and-white photograph decorating the wall between her king-sized bed and her window.

  Remembering Mike’s enigmatic comment about the photo in Jo’s bedroom, Stephen moved closer to have a better look.

  It was definitely one of Scott’s photographs. One of his early ones. That much was impossible to miss. The black-and-white image depicted two girls standing side by side in old, torn and filthy clothes, their long hair snarled and straggling. They were shadowed by a large peppermint tree, facing away from the camera.

  The photographer had captured one girl, a tall, heavyset brunette, with her hand reaching towards the shoulders of the other girl, a tiny blonde half her size whose fists were bunched at her sides in unmistakable frustration. The gesture appeared simultaneously comforting and protective.

  They were watching another two kids in the distance, a short, blond-haired boy, bathed in sunlight, who was running along the top of a dam bank, chasing a dark-haired girl. His hand was outstretched and holding something too blurred to see properly. It was obvious both the boy and the girl on the dam bank were laughing and oblivious to their audience, who was watching with what could only be described as intense longing.

  There was something incredibly, indescribably sad about the photograph, and at the same time, something familiar. Stepping closer, Stephen realised with a shock that he was the boy in the picture chasing Rachael. He would have been about twelve or thirteen. He recognised the bikini his sister was wearing as one she’d gotten for Christmas years ago.

  ‘I met Scott for the first time that day.’ Jo’s voice broke his concentration, and he reluctantly turned to find her standing behind him, wearing a short white cotton bathrobe and a distant expression.

  ‘We caught him only seconds after he took that photo. He’d snuck up on us.’

  ‘That’s you?’ Stephen exclaimed, moving closer to examine the two girls in the foreground of the picture.

  ‘And Amy. I was twelve, so she would have been eight.’ Jo made an odd little noise in her throat. ‘You make me some coffee too?’

  ‘What? No. Sorry. I thought you’d be longer in the shower,’ he said, eyes glued to the photo, trying to process what it meant. How had they not known the Blaine girls were there? What had the girls been doing watching them, looking like that? Come to think of it, how had Scott spotted them when no one else had?

  He opened his mouth to start asking questions, but Jo interrupted him with a hand running down his back.

  ‘Come on, make me some coffee while I work out how to cook breakfast. Which, I assure you, will involve milk and cornflakes.’ She tugged on his arm, pulling him away from the picture. Her grip was firm, indicating clearly that she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  He allowed her to pull him away with great reluctance, his brow furrowed. He wanted to know more. ‘So what were you girls doing there?’

  ‘Actually, why don’t we go out for breakfast?’ Jo interrupted, talking over him.

  ‘Yeah. Okay.’ Stephen tried to work out what was going on with her, feeling frustration rise in him at being shut down yet again. He’d give her this and then he wanted answers. ‘You sure?’

  ‘Yep.’ Jo dropped her robe and dressed quickly in jeans and a tight white T-shirt. ‘I’m starving.’ She caught him by the hand and dragged him into his room, throwing his shorts and shirt from the night before at him. ‘It’s early, no one will care what we look like, let’s go.’

  ‘But,’ Stephen began, knowing she was using this urgency to distract him and he was not that happy with it.

  ‘We’ll take my bike,’ Jo said abruptly. ‘I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten properly for days.’

  ‘Okay, we’re gone.’ He gave in at that. After the few things she’d said about the food out on the rig he couldn’t deny her a cooked breakfast. And he was hungry, after all, and there would always be time to talk later. ‘As long as you’re on the back.’

  ‘Negotiation will commence on our way down the stairs,’ Jo said, walking away from him to collect her wallet, riding jacket, and two helmets while he swiftly got dressed.

  That night Stephen woke up as Jo gently moved his hand from her hip and rolled quietly out of his bed. Squinting to see in the near-dark, he watched her tiptoe towards the door. Something about the way she was moving told him she wasn’t just going to the bathroom or getting a glass of water. The woman looked to all intents and purposes as if she was sneaking. His curiosity aroused, Stephen quietly padded along behind her as she carefully made her way into her bedroom and over to the photograph he’d looked at that morning. His curiosity increased a thousandfold when she lifted the frame off the wall in an almost reverential manner and slid it under her bed, out of sight.

  At that point Boomba decided to make an appearance. He tottered up behind Stephen, meowing loudly. Jo rocketed up from where she was crouched on the other side of the bed, her expression unaccountably terrified.

  ‘You all right?’ Stephen asked, keeping his voice low and calm.

  She ran a visibly shaking hand over her face. ‘Yeah. You scared me. I was ah . . . I was . . . I thought I heard something moving in here, so I came in to see what the noise was,’ she finished weakly.

  ‘You find it?’ Stephen had a gut feeling that now wasn’t the time to be calling her on the lie. He resisted the urge to look towards the now-blank space on the wall.

  ‘No. No I didn’t.’

  ‘Aw well. Come to bed then, I’ll keep an ear out. You need sleep.’ Stephen closed the gap between them and pulled her into a tight, comforting hug, alarmed at how tense she was.

  ‘Yeah, I do.’

  He was relieved when she began to slowly melt against his chest, her arms coming around his back and gripping him tightly, almost desperately.

  They stood there in the dark for what seemed like ages. Holding each other. Jo with her eyes closed, head resting on Stephen’s shoulder, lips pressed against his neck, Stephen studying the now-unencumbered hook on the wall behind her with a brooding expression.

  ‘We haven’t had a chance to talk about that phone call Rachael received a while back,’ Stephen said a few mornings later.

  Jo hauled herself out of bed and stifled a groan. She’d been waiting for this. She’d dodged this conversation for days, but here it was. It was a pity because she’d just spent a wonderful ten minutes watching Stephen parade his naked self around her bedroom, and this note of seriousness wasn’t welcome.

  ‘Really?’ she asked, pulling a pair of boy-leg briefs and matching red bra out of her underwear drawer.

  ‘Really. I’ve had enough of you putting me off and we’re talking about it now if I have to tie you up. Are you sure this psycho c
an’t hurt you?’ Stephen looked at her in the mirror above her dresser while he buttoned up a white oxford shirt. She noticed his eyes straying from her face to her underwear. She’d learned by accident the day before that he had a thing about watching a woman get dressed, and she used the knowledge now to distract him.

  ‘Definitely,’ Jo said emphatically and bent down to shimmy the briefs slowly up her legs.

  ‘You absolutely positive?’ Stephen asked, dragging his eyes off her crotch to meet her eyes in the mirror. ‘He was making death threats, Jo. This isn’t something I want to make light of.’ He let that sit in the air for a while.

  Jo continued to get dressed while doing her best to look unconcerned, slowly pulling on her bra and pushing out her chest while she reached behind her to do up the clasp. Her actions were rewarded when Stephen closed the gap between them and rested his hands on her waist, running them slowly up and down over bare skin.

  ‘And he left you pretty shaken up that night just after you came home that first time.’ He moved his hands around to her back, slowly stroking down her spine.

  ‘Oh, that? Yeah. Well, that was before I knew he was going to be locked away,’ Jo said, avoiding his eyes and sticking to her fabricated story.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Stephen said with a sceptical expression. He moved his hands further down her back to grip her backside.

  Jo squirmed. She’d never enjoyed telling lies, and lying to Stephen to cover up how screwed up her family was left her feeling sick. The thought of her parents was enough to kill her mood, and she reluctantly twisted away from him.

  ‘Don’t worry. It’s nothing,’ she said, making a move to walk out of the room.

  Stephen caught her arm as she passed him, his grip firm enough to tell her he meant business. ‘Jo. I know something’s going on. Something doesn’t add up here. I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but there’s something you’re not telling me.’

  Jo set her shoulders back and jerked up her chin, ready to defend herself. But the moment she made eye contact and saw the concern in Stephen’s expression, she buckled.