Imperfect Penelope (Wild Crush)

by Sami Lee

  He groaned at his first full taste of her. It was ambrosia. He thrust his tongue into her in sharp jabs, then long slow licks before pulling out and paying attention to her clit again.

  “Oh, cripes. What are you… God, Greg. Please.” Her hands bunched in the sheets beside her hips as she thrust her pussy at him. Keeping the slick pressure on her clit with his lips and tongue, he tunneled two fingers into her cunt, pressing them deep and hard inside her and curling them forward until she shuddered in response. “Fuck. Yes. Right there. Like that. Oh God!”

  She came on Greg’s tongue and nothing had ever tasted as good to him. He groaned as he lapped at her, as though her ecstasy were his own. And damned if that wasn’t almost the truth. He was steel hard and throbbing. He brought his hand down and grabbed the base of his cock, squeezing it firmly. Hold on. Jesus. Don’t you dare come prematurely twice in one night. Slow and ordered and methodical, remember?

  All his arguments for the latter seemed moot. He wanted her as much as he had the first time, when he could at least rely on the excuse of a long abstinence to explain himself. He had no defense now as he grappled with another condom wrapper and quickly sheathed himself. He had to feel her taut muscles gripping him, milking him.

  Greg climbed back on the bed and hovered above her. Her eyes were glazed, her golden hair a wild halo around her head, and her skin was flushed pink. He pushed himself against the backs of her thighs, forcing her knees to hook over his shoulders. Then he entered her.

  She was tight, her muscles strong as they clamped around him. It was incredible. He rocked into her, and as though she hadn’t already climaxed explosively, she urged him on. “Yes. Feels good, baby.”

  Greg found he liked the sound of that baby on her lips, and he plunged into her more fully.

  “Oh. Oh boy.” Her eyes widened, locked with his. “I think I can…yes again. Harder.”

  Her muscles rippled out another orgasm, or perhaps it was still a remnant of the last one. Her responsiveness drove him mad, and he shoved into her in a fast, jerky rhythm, pushing himself higher as she came around him.

  She covered her breasts with her hands, caressing them and teasing her own nipples. Whether she did it to excite him or because she plain enjoyed touching herself didn’t matter. It was so sexy Greg felt the orgasm rip out of him. His balls exploded and his cock filled with rushing heat. He lost it completely. Lost himself in her for the second time in thirty minutes.

  It was glorious.

  It was terrifying.

  Overwhelmed and more than a little shaky, Greg bent down and kissed Penny with all the breath he had left in him. He found the covers and pulled them both beneath them, afraid to admit to himself how difficult it was going to be to let her go in the morning, as he would have to do.

  Just sex, she’d said. No relationships, he’d told her. She was his brother’s ex-girlfriend, and there were undeniable complications in that. Even if he did want to pursue something more permanent with her, how would he tell Bryan? Besides that, they were incompatible on every level.

  As Greg gathered Penny close to his body, he couldn’t help but notice how well they fit together, and in that moment, they didn’t feel incompatible at all.

  Chapter Ten

  The sound and smell of the ocean was louder this morning, as though it were right outside her door instead of blocks away. Eyes closed, Penny rolled over and buried her head in the pillow beside her. The remnant aroma of cologne—Greg’s cologne—filled her nostrils. The fact she wasn’t home began to penetrate even before every muscle in her body reminded her of all the…well, penetration that had gone on last night.

  Oh boy.

  Penny opened her eyes. Last night she’d taken little notice of Greg’s bedroom furniture. She’d been too enthralled by the man himself. Her blood warmed at the memories as she looked around. A chunky timber bedframe, navy-blue sheets and a complete absence of art on the cream painted walls. It was a manly room, furnished for practicality, not aesthetics. He needed some art and a few throw pillows in here. Not that she’d cared a whit about giving him decorative tips last night when she’d practically begged him to fuck her in the bathroom.

  A sound burst out of her, half giggle, half groan. She was both embarrassed and kind of proud of herself for being so assertive. She’d never been that vocal during sex. Greg seemed to bring out a lusty smart aleck in her that she hadn’t even known existed. Her libido had rivaled his, and she’d been wet and ready when after the bathroom, and that stunning session on the bed, he’d woken her two more times during the night. Or maybe that last time she’d woken him, she couldn’t quite remember. All she knew was each time had been good. Very good. Better than very good.

  Mind-blowingly fantabulous.

  Her sex tingled as heat gathered. “Down, girl,” she murmured as she stretched and rolled over. She was still grinning to herself when she saw her dress, purse and shoes laid neatly over a chair in the corner. Her smile faltered. How long had Greg been up? Perhaps her neatly arranged clothes were a major hint that she’d overstayed her welcome.

  A glance at the bedside alarm clock told her it was almost seven. She never slept so late. She had to be at the clinic to open by nine. Cursing softly to herself, Penny got out of bed and threw on her dress, making a mental note to complain to Summer about the Sunday wedding when she saw her. If she’d gotten married on a Saturday like a normal person, Penny would have had a lazy Sunday morning…

  To do what, Pen? For all she knew Greg was relieved the normal workday would give him an excuse to get her off his hands. Stomach roiling a little at the thought, Penny tiptoed barefoot to the bathroom to use the amenities. She also found Greg’s toothpaste and used it to quickly finger-brush her teeth before splashing cold water on her face. When she looked in the mirror she winced. The water had made last night’s mascara smear around her eyes.

  “Oh, for sure Greg would want to spend the whole morning with you, Raccoon Face.”

  As she found tissues and did her best to clean off the makeup, Penny admonished herself for not being cooler about this. She’d slept with more people than Greg, four of those experiences being one-night stands. Each time, she’d managed to exit admirably, or subtly kick the guy out, without panicking or wistfully dreaming of long mornings in bed. Admittedly, she’d come to her senses and realized the pointlessness of casual sex a few years back, and hadn’t intended to do the walk of shame again. But the fact she was out of practice wasn’t why she was testing the mintiness of her breath and trying in vain to tidy her hair without a comb.

  It was Greg. He made her want to primp. Ugh.

  “Be cool, Penny,” she told her reflection. “Just go out there and say ‘Hey lover, had a great time last night. If you ever want to do it again, give me a call.’”

  Dear God, if you say hey lover you might as well throw yourself off his balcony.

  And for Christ’s sake don’t be so desperate to let him know you’d do it all over in a second.

  Time was ticking away, and eventually Penny had to emerge from the safety of the bathroom. She grabbed her purse and shoes from the bedroom and went in search of her host.

  He was standing on a vast deck that overlooked the ocean, staring out to sea. He was neatly dressed in a suit and looked out of place against the view of wild tumbling waves and swooping seagulls. A breeze shifted the leaves around the trees bracketing the house, but Greg stood as still as a statue, seemingly unmoved by it all.

  It hit Penny why her palms were sweating. Greg wasn’t like the other guys she’d been with, local dudes she’d known since high school or tourists who were only looking for a brief source of entertainment. He wasn’t anything like Bryan, who’d avoided responsibility like the plague and in hindsight had never been relationship material. Those previous lovers had been such boys, and Greg was a man. Greg took life seriously and hid his wounds well behind a sophisticated ex
terior. He had a career and a house and a damn fine car. He was responsible. He seemed to have it all together.

  Plus, he’d completely slayed her in bed. Sleeping with guys she sorta liked for shits and giggles when she was younger was vastly different to being taken the way Greg had taken her, to being possessed by him, not to mention being satisfied to within an inch of her life yet left wanting more.

  That was why the butterflies wouldn’t stop flitting around her stomach. She wanted more from this man who kept himself isolated on the outskirts of town, maintaining a distance from everyone, including her. She wanted more nights like last night.

  You’ll never learn, will you? He won’t give you that. For God’s sake, at least act like you’re cool.

  She finally managed to speak. If croaking a lame “hi” counted as speaking.

  Greg turned from the view. His expression was unreadable but seeing his handsome face—the defined cheekbones, the full lips and dark eyes—made Penny’s heart flip over. He set the mug he was holding down on a nearby table. “Hi. Did you sleep well?”

  When you let me, Penny almost said. But she didn’t want to be the one to make any lame sexual innuendos. Greg was standing there all unruffled, fully kitted out in his workday attire while she was still in yesterday’s dress, half of last night’s makeup, wearing no shoes and no longer possessing a pair of panties. The least she could do was keep her foot out of her mouth. “A little too well, I think. You should have woken me if I was going to make you late for work.”

  “I’m not late. Besides, I couldn’t.” His lips kicked up at the corners the slightest bit. “You looked too peaceful.”

  Penny smoothed a hand over her hair, afraid the wind had ruined her efforts to take the bedhead look out of it. Her heart was stammering all over itself because he’d almost smiled at her. You are pathetic, Irving. “Great view,” she said, because she had to say something innocuous before she blurted out take me, take me now, you big stud.

  Greg followed her gaze, and they both stood surveying the beach for a moment. “Yes,” he agreed. “I rented this when I first came here, intending to only stay a few weeks. I guess I got hooked on it because I never wanted to go back to Sydney after all.”

  “You rent?” Penny asked, when what she actually wanted to know was why he’d left Sydney and never managed to go back. A relationship breakup seemed likely. What else could be painful enough to drive someone away from their hometown and make them swear off relationships? But going down that conversational path seemed like prying, and Penny didn’t want him to think she was trying to press him for personal information he didn’t want to give.

  Because she was cool. Totally, completely cool with having the best sex in history and discussing real estate in the morning.

  “Yes, I rent. The owners are working overseas for an extended period. I suppose if they ever wanted to sell I’d put in an offer. I’ve come to love it here.”

  Penny didn’t read the real estate section of the paper as a rule, but at a guess she’d put the value of a beach house like this at close to a cool million. Greg was not only serious, professional, drop-dead handsome and mature, he was filthy rich too. And here she was still keeping her rent money in a tea canister.

  What had she been thinking, coming here with him? In bed it had seemed like they were equals. She’d certainly given as good as she got. How had she forgotten he was Greg Danvers, the Alfa Romeo-driving lawyer who’d looked down his nose at her from day one? Granted, once he’d accepted the truth about Bryan he’d apologized, made things right. Then he’d kissed the stuffing out of her, and she’d obviously lost her ability to see logic.

  She wasn’t his equal. She was just some idiot without panties.

  “I have some Weet-Bix in the kitchen if you’re hungry,” Greg said. “Or I could make some toast.”

  Greg ate Weet-Bix, the most traditional of all Aussie breakfast cereals. Everyone she knew had grown up on it, and a picture of Greg as a kid, hoeing into a bowl of Weet-Bix and running outside to play cricket popped into her mind. Had he ever been that young and carefree, or had his parents not allowed it?

  No point wondering. She’d never know.

  “Thank you, no. I’d better get going. I texted my neighbor to check on the cats last night, but they’ll be fretting for me by now.”

  “Of course. I’ll take you.”

  She’d have called a taxi if there were any chance one would get here within a half hour. Going with Greg in his car would be quicker, and made more sense since he was driving to town anyway. But Penny’s skin prickled with self-consciousness as she followed him to the garage and got in the Alfa. It was impossible not to remember how he’d swept her up in his arms and carried her inside last night. And as they drove along the coast road, Penny couldn’t stop recalling how she’d held his cock in her hand and had driven him crazy with lust. He’d warned her they were going to have an accident.

  He didn’t seem the least bit out of control this morning as he maneuvered the vehicle into Leyton’s and up Cassowary Street. He found the turnoff to her house without having to ask. By the time he parked in her driveway, the silence had become unbearable and Penny was more than ready to bolt.

  “Thanks for the lift,” she said, and got out of the car as soon as she could.

  She bit back a groan when she heard the driver’s door open and Greg’s footfalls on the path behind her. “Penny, wait.”

  Not wishing to appear like she was running away from him—even though she was—Penny took a deep breath and turned to face him. “Yes?”

  He appeared nonplussed, even agitated. “It’s not supposed to end like this.”

  “Nothing’s ending,” Penny said. “There is nothing to end.”

  “I don’t think that’s true. I don’t know what we are but we’re something.”

  His expression was so pained that Penny’s heart softened. She let out a sigh and gave him a feeble smile. “We were a moment, remember? I guess we say it was fun while it lasted and move on.”

  “Do we?” She saw his intent a moment before he stepped forward, but her reflexes were too dull. She couldn’t evade him before he wrapped his arms around her and brought her close to his chest. His eyes were dark, the gold flecks glinting in the morning sunlight. “Last night was more than fun. It was incredible.”

  He inclined his head, inching forward slowly enough to allow her to stop him if she wanted. She didn’t want to, and she couldn’t prevent the kiss from beginning. There was a soft exchange of breaths, the tentative brush of lips. Penny clung to his suit lapels and stole the fleeting encounter to keep for later. He was a damn fine kisser, and clutching the memory of his kisses to her chest like a treasure might end up ruining her for all lesser men. Still, she couldn’t help but revel in the taste and feel of his mouth as it added light pressure to her own.

  When his tongue ran along the seam of her lips, requesting entry, Penny forced herself back from the abyss. If he kissed her fully in that way he did, she wouldn’t be left with a nice memory but a gnawing craving that would never be satisfied. Because Greg didn’t want a relationship, and she couldn’t keep giving herself to men who didn’t see that she deserved one. She deserved someone who loved her.

  That someone wasn’t Greg Danvers, no matter how well he kissed her.

  Penny pulled back, trying not to gasp audibly as she stepped out of his embrace. His expression wasn’t as well composed as it had been earlier. She saw the disappointment in it and almost apologized for not inviting him inside. She wanted to. Four times last night, about twice as many orgasms, and she wanted to invite him in. They’d have time for something quick before they both went to work.

  You’re going to make a fool of yourself, Pen. Be cool, be cool.

  “It was incredible.” She smiled and dared to hope she looked worldly. “Thanks.”

  Penny whirled around to fit her key in th
e lock, turning it hastily. She slipped inside and closed the door without looking at Greg. She rested her back flat against the wood, holding her breath until she heard Greg walking away. When his car started up, she sank to the floor where she was and let out a mewl that brought Mr. Rumplepants running towards her.

  “Hey, Mr. Man.” Penny picked him up and pulled him into her arms, hugging him to her chest for a long time.

  Thanks? You said thanks? Was she thanking him for the ride home, for the sex or for pretending to be unaware of the fact he was way out of her league?

  “I am so not cool,” she muttered to herself.

  * * *

  “This is much better.”

  Greg glanced at Dr. Natasha Stevens, who was removing the blood-pressure cuff from his arm. “It is?”

  “Yes.” She looked over the top of wire-framed glasses at him. “A huge improvement in only two weeks. Did you implement some of my suggestions?”

  “I cut out the salt, as you asked. Cut down on caffeine too even though you didn’t,” Greg said. “And I tried yoga.”

  With a woman who’d driven him mad with lust, forced him to face the truth about his brother and given him the hottest, wildest night he’d ever experienced. Every time Greg thought of that night over the past three days his pulse rate accelerated. He was surprised his blood pressure had lowered enough to put a smile on any doctor’s face, because thoughts of Penny only seemed to set his pulse to racing.

  “Well, it must have worked. Compared to our last consult, you’re the picture of health.”

  He didn’t feel like the picture of health. He felt like an idiot who’d missed out on something he wasn’t brave enough to even want. Whenever he remembered how awkward things had been the morning after that night, Greg’s stomach started to churn. Hell. He was better at dealing with women than that. At least he had been, once. He was too out of practice. Or was it simply that Penny made him feel things he didn’t know how to handle?