She was poised on the edge of the board like a dancer or a bird about to take flight, her small curvy body graceful and lithe.
I’d told myself that the few hours we’d had in bed was all we’d needed. She’d had her revenge on her father, losing her virginity to a man of her choice, while I’d got a little something for myself for once.
It hadn’t ended up being a big drama, not now the virginity issue was being handled by those fake certificates.
I didn’t need to go back for more.
Yet that didn’t stop my stupid cock from hardening at the mere thought of those few hours or at the idea of reliving them.
Repeatedly.
When she’d unleashed herself on me, her curiosity and passion had combined into a force that was as unstoppable as it was irresistible. It had blown my fucking mind.
I’d never thought that a virgin exploring a man’s body for the first time could be so erotic.
She’d started hesitantly then had gained confidence, becoming utterly fearless. Watching her bloom had been the hottest thing I’d ever seen. And knowing that I was a part of that had only made it hotter.
I stared out the windows, my goddamn cock getting harder at the sight of her and the memories that kept unreeling in my head.
I should go to a bar. Find a woman. Fuck away the need.
But the idea left me cold.
I didn’t want just any woman. I wanted her.
On the diving board Imogen leapt but, instead of a graceful dive, she drew her legs up under her and wrapped her arms around them, bombing into the pool like a teenager, water going everywhere.
Then she surfaced a moment later, grinning like she was having the time of her life.
I moved before I could think better of it, shoving the huge sliding glass door open so I could step outside, the sound of the music deafening.
She had her back to me, gripping the tiled edges of the pool then pulling herself out.
A wooden sun lounger sat nearby, the speaker and laptop she was using to stream the music sitting on it.
I bent and hit a button on the laptop, cutting off the sound.
Imogen, who was now standing on the side of the pool, water streaming down her lovely body, turned around. ‘Hey, who did—’ She broke off, blinking as she saw me.
Colour rushed into her face and a smile like the sun coming out turned up her mouth. Then just as quickly the smile vanished and she frowned. ‘You’ve been avoiding me.’
That fleeting smile, bright and instinctive, hit me in a place I wasn’t expecting, a place I hadn’t realised was vulnerable.
Fuck.
I scowled. ‘Why would I avoid you?’
She shrugged then raised her hands to her hair, squeezing the water from it. ‘I don’t know—you tell me.’
The movement lifted her breasts, the thin fabric of her bikini pulling tight, drawing attention to those sweet little nipples. They were hard, the wet material outlining them perfectly.
I’d tasted them, rolled them in my mouth, tugged on them with my teeth. She’d liked that. I could still hear her cries of delight in my ears...
Christ, I could not be thinking shit like that. There was no need for a repeat. I had other, more important things to do with my time.
‘I’ve been busy,’ I growled, irritated both with my stupid cock and the need I felt to explain myself to her.
‘Too busy to even say hi?’ Her arms dropped and she wandered over to where I stood, apparently not caring that her bikini was very small, very wet, and I was getting very hard. ‘That’s kind of a dick move, Ajax.’ Mercifully she folded her arms. ‘I mean, I’m not asking for flowers and chocolates and love songs. A “hi, how are you doing” would be fine.’ Her brows drew down. ‘Or is vanishing usual for guys after they’ve taken a girl’s virginity?’
She called you, asshole.
Yeah, and I did not like it. Not one fucking bit.
‘You’re my prisoner,’ I said flatly. ‘Prisoners are lucky to get food and water, let alone computers, libraries, pools and loud music.’
‘No need to be a bastard.’
‘I’m your kidnapper. What the fuck do you expect?’
She stared at me, her green eyes sharp. ‘I know why you’re angry. You’re annoyed because you wanted me to come and say hi to you, right?’
Caught off guard, I couldn’t think of a single response.
‘Because all you had to do was say,’ Imogen charged on, not waiting for me to speak anyway. ‘I was around. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.’
Holy shit. The bloody woman thought I’d been hanging around waiting for her to approach me?
She’s right though.
No. Why would I do that? If I wanted something and it didn’t interfere with my plans I went the hell out and got it. I didn’t wait.
But you wanted her and did nothing.
‘Like I said, I’ve been busy.’ I gave her a hard stare. ‘And I still am so turn your fucking music down so I can concentrate.’
She searched my face, her expression turning into something like...understanding. ‘It’s okay, I get it,’ she said, even though I had no idea what she was talking about. ‘But you told me not to hold back and I didn’t. So why are you doing the same thing now?’
‘Holding back?’ I shoved my hands into my pockets, the need to grab her needling at me like an itch I couldn’t scratch. ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’
She let out a sigh, like I was being particularly dense, then closed the distance between us, reaching out to brush her fingers over the fly of my jeans. ‘You’re hard, Ajax.’
I stilled, her touch electric, stealing my breath. It took every ounce of will I had not to take my hands out of my pockets and take her on the pool tiles.
You can’t. You can never have what you want.
‘I told you all I’d give you was a couple of hours,’ I forced out between gritted teeth, ignoring the voice in my head. ‘And I fucking meant it.’
‘I know. But...you still want me.’
I couldn’t deny it, not when the evidence was pressing hard against the front of my jeans. ‘I told you that what I want doesn’t matter.’
A crease appeared between her brows. ‘And I told you that it does. Seriously, Ajax. How does us having sex interfere with the safety of this city? My virginity is gone and you’re dealing with the medical proof. Dad’s never going to know. So what’s the problem?’
The problem was the catch, and there was always a catch. I’d learned that particular lesson in my time as my father’s heir and learned it well.
I’d wanted to protect my brothers, but doing so would have exposed me and then Dad would have taken me down instead of vice versa. More people would have got hurt. And he would have ruled Sydney unchecked.
Sacrifices had to be made and I was the one who’d make them.
There was no room for selfishness in my plans.
It’s great how noble you can make yourself sound.
My jaw tightened.
Imogen shrugged. ‘Oh, well, your loss.’ Reaching around behind herself, she tugged at the tie of her bikini top and I wasn’t sure what she was doing until the whole thing loosened. ‘But you know where I’ll be if you change your mind.’ Pulling the fabric free, she dropped the top on the ground, her perfect little tits bare. ‘I’ll be in the pool.’ Pushing her bikini bottoms down, she stepped out of them then straightened, giving me a look from underneath her lashes. ‘Naked.’
Then she strolled to the side of the pool and dived in.
Every muscle in my body tensed.
The gall of the woman. Stripping naked and swimming in my pool like she didn’t give a fuck. Like I wasn’t standing there aching to get my hands on her and hadn’t been aching for the past two days straight.
Like I hadn’t been using bullshit ex
cuses to stay away from her, when all I really wanted was to take her to bed and keep her there for the next week straight.
You think a prick like you can ever have what he wants?
I shoved the thought from my head, stalking over to the pool, drawn relentlessly by the woman in it.
She was floating on her back with her arms out, her hair moving like silky golden kelp around her head. Her eyes were closed, her naked body the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Pale skin, golden hair, soft pink nipples...
Shit, if there was a catch, I couldn’t find it. And since when had I ever made sex into such a big deal?
Her arms moved lazily in the water and she hummed a song I didn’t recognise, oblivious to me standing on the side of the pool wrestling with my fucking conscience.
It was just sex. No big deal. Her virginity was gone and I was handling that. Taking her to bed wasn’t the start of that slippery slope, the one that led back to the violence of the days I’d left behind. Anyway, she wanted me and who was I to deny her what she wanted? What we both wanted?
I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.
I took a moment to kick off my shoes, then I dived in after her.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Imogen
I HEARD THE SPLASH, felt the spray over my face and the movement of the water as Ajax dived in. And my heartbeat accelerated, adrenaline coursing through me.
Yes. My gamble had paid off.
For the past couple of days I’d been hanging out by the pool, hoping he’d come. Hoping that seeing me in my bikini might make him do...something.
Because ever since he’d walked out the morning after we’d slept together, he’d been avoiding me. And I hadn’t been able to get him out of my head.
I hadn’t expected that. I’d thought that once I’d got my little piece of revenge, that would be it. I’d be satisfied. But apparently that’s not how it worked with Ajax.
One night had done nothing to put out the fire of my curiosity.
He hadn’t been around so I’d used the laptop he’d provided to distract me, but all I found myself doing was surfing the Net looking for anything I could find on him. There were old news stories about his father’s arrest and how they’d eventually caught Augustus due to some dodgy financial business dealings. Ajax had been involved with the takedown and I obsessively read everything about it, watched all the interviews that featured him. There weren’t many, but in each one his expression was hard, his eyes glittering. He looked dangerous and mean, and said virtually nothing.
I couldn’t stop watching.
The media viewed him with suspicion and, to be fair, he hadn’t done anything to change their viewpoint. But I wondered why not. Because the man the media had painted him as—the violent heir who’d somehow managed to avoid conviction—was not the man who’d cupped my face as I’d cried, who’d held me close while I’d slept. Who’d insisted that protecting his brothers and his city came before anything else, including himself.
I wanted to know that man quite desperately. It consumed me.
I’d had intense passions like this before—the tropical fish I’d been obsessed with once as a kid that I’d lost interest in a couple of weeks after Dad had bought me a tank. Or when I’d suddenly been desperate to learn calligraphy, fascinated by the black curves and elegant straight lines, getting lots of pens and different inks, practising for a day before putting everything aside and never picking up a pen again.
Ajax was the adult version of my interest in tropical fish. Or my calligraphy. He was the Mandarin I’d tried to teach myself once, the astronomy I’d been obsessed with for a whole month.
He was a puzzle that only got more complex and more interesting the closer I examined him, and I suspected that sex was merely scratching the surface of who he was.
Whatever, I knew myself. I knew that my obsession with him wasn’t going to ease until I’d satisfied my curiosity and the only way I was going to do that was to figure out a way to get close to him.
And obviously the best way to get close to him was through more sex.
I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the hours I’d spent in his bed. About how free he’d made me feel and how accepting he’d been of me and my quirks. How he’d actively encouraged me to be curious about his body and how it had fit with mine.
No one had ever made me feel as if it was okay to be myself the way he had.
So, after the first day or so of obsessing, I’d decided that I had to do something about it. Such as convincing him to take me to bed again.
Unfortunately, for that to work, he had to be around and he wasn’t. Which meant I had to try something different—getting him to come to me.
I’d been thrilled when my little ploy of hanging out by the pool in my green bikini and playing loud music had worked. But then he’d been a dick, giving me all sorts of crap about how busy he was, all the while staring at me like he wanted to eat me alive and pretending he wasn’t as hard as a rock.
So, to give him some incentive, I’d taken my bikini off. And, judging by the way he’d launched himself into the water, that was all the push he’d needed, which thrilled me down to the bone.
Still, I wasn’t sure why he’d been denying himself what we both wanted and I’d already decided I was going to find out.
I was going to find out everything.
But maybe after I let him catch me.
I turned over on my front, making an attempt to swim away, but his fingers closed around my ankle and he jerked me towards him. I took a breath as I went under, then his hands closed around my hips and I was out of the water again, being pulled against his hot, hard body and held there, face to face with him.
‘Tease.’ The hunger in his eyes blazed.
‘You can talk.’ I spread my palms out on his chest, loving the contrast of his heat with the cool press of the water on my skin. ‘I’ve been in agony for two whole days.’
‘Agony?’ His hands slid over my butt as he fitted my hips against his, the denim of his wet jeans rough against my sensitive bare flesh. ‘You should have come to me.’
‘I would have. If you’d been around.’
‘I’m around now.’ He squeezed me, not gently.
I gasped, the slight bite of pain adding to the rub of his wet clothing on my tender skin, the friction maddeningly erotic.
The feral look on his face intensified, as if he liked the sound very much. ‘What’s wrong, little one?’ His fingers shifted under me, finding the folds of my pussy and brushing over them. ‘Am I too much for you?’
‘N-no.’ Excitement made me stutter as I shifted restlessly in his grip. ‘I can handle you. But I’m not sure you can handle me.’
He gave a low growl and suddenly I was being kissed—and kissed hard.
I shuddered with pleasure, winding my arms around his neck, holding on tight as his tongue pushed into my mouth, the dark addictive taste of him flooding through me. His kiss was raw, with an edge of danger to it that I found absolutely intoxicating.
Yes, God, this was what I wanted. What I needed. Not movies or books or calligraphy or astronomy, or any of the thousand things I’d spent the last fifteen years of my life using to fill the void inside me. The void I hadn’t even realised was there until Ajax had touched me. Let me cry. Let me explore. Made me aware of what I was missing.
Him. I’d been missing him.
I tried to kiss him back, but he was having none of it, wrenching his mouth from mine.
‘Ajax, please.’ Disappointment crowded in my throat. ‘I want—’
‘No.’ His voice was so rough it was almost unrecognisable, his gaze incandescent with blue fire. ‘We’ve done what you want. Now it’s time to do what I want.’
A couple of days ago he’d taken my virginity, let me make a choice and take my revenge. That night had been all about me.
&nbs
p; Now he wanted it to be about him.
I could not wait.
‘Y-yes.’ Excitement burned in my blood. ‘Show me.’
He smiled, ferocious and predatory. Then, without a word, he turned and carried me to the edge of the pool and set me on the tiles. Gripping the edge, he pulled himself out in one fluid, immensely powerful movement.
My mouth dried, my heartbeat going into overdrive as I watched him.
He stood there for a second, dripping water, then he began to pull his wet clothes off, dropping them negligently on the ground. His body gleamed in the sunlight, slick with water, the ink of his amazing tattoos stark against his olive skin.
I’d never wanted to touch anything as badly as I wanted to touch him.
I got to my feet and stretched out my hands like he was a fire I wanted to warm myself against, but he took a long, loping step towards me, a wolf on the hunt.
Adrenaline rushed through my veins, my excitement electric.
Slowly, he began to stalk me and I let him, backing away in the direction he wanted me to go, towards the nearest sun lounger. Then, when the frame pressed against the back of my legs, he picked me up and sat down on it with me in his lap, both of us facing the pool, my spine against his broad chest, his hard cock pressing between my thighs.
I trembled at the feel of him, at all that heat and coiled power in the taut muscles beneath me.
His hands urged me to lie back against him, my head on his shoulder, and then he smoothed his palms down my arms to my hips. They rested there a moment before easing lower, to my knees, sliding inwards to grip my thighs and gently pull my legs apart, spreading them on either side of his. He bent his legs at the knee, widening them, so his knees were holding my thighs open.
The position was exposing, the slight stretch of the sensitive tissues of my sex so hot I could hardly breathe.
He stroked over my stomach, one hand grazing the sensitised flesh between my thighs, the other lazily toying with my nipple, pinching it lightly.
I groaned, arching into his hands, desperate for his touch. But it was too light. I wanted more, harder.
‘Ajax.’ His name was a prayer in my mouth. ‘Ajax, please.’
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