[4 Seasons 01] Seducing Summer

by Serenity Woods

  Gene’s hands were warm on her back, and when he realized she wasn’t trying to pull away, his kiss grew gentle, his lips moving tenderly, while his tongue played with hers.

  It took him a long time to finally move back, and when he did, Callie held on to his arms, afraid that if she let go her legs would give way.

  “Um…” Her brain felt like a ball of knotted wool. “Kind of getting conflicting messages here.”

  “I know.” He cupped her face and tucked the strand of hair that fluttered in the sea breeze behind her ear. “I apologize.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “It’s not, and I am sorry. But I can’t keep away from you. I thought that after last night all our passion would have vanished, but I can’t stop thinking about you.” His thumb brushed her cheek, his voice turning husky. “It wasn’t enough. I want you again. I want more of you. Last time was hard and fast because I was afraid my brain wouldn’t let me finish before the guilt took over. I want you again, but slowly this time. I want you naked on the bed so I can kiss every inch of your skin. I want to taste you and make you come on my tongue, then take you and make you come while you look into my eyes. Will you let me, Callie?” She shivered, and he groaned. “Do that again and I’ll take you here on the sand.”

  “Gene…” Her heart pounded and her cheeks had grown hot. “I don’t understand. What’s changed?”

  “What’s changed is that I’ve accepted I’m weak. I’m fooling myself if I think I can stay away from you.”

  She tried to slow her breathing so she didn’t hyperventilate. The look in his gray eyes was so intense it turned her to mush inside. “I… I don’t know. Last night was so hard when you left, and I’ve only just talked myself around.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry. I won’t do that to you again. I thought I was doing the decent, honest thing, but I was wrong. We’ll talk about where we go from here, I promise. I won’t make decisions for both of us. Just… come to bed with me again.”

  Callie felt dizzy. “Oh…”

  He moved closer to her again, and slid his hands onto her bottom so he could pull her hips to his. His erection pressed against her mound, leaving her in no doubt as to his desire for her.

  “Let me make love to you,” he murmured. “Let me see if you taste like strawberries and cream, like I suspect.”

  “Gene!” Her cheeks flamed.

  He gave a sexy chuckle and nuzzled her ear. “Let’s go back to the villa, and we’ll open the balcony doors. I’ll slowly remove your clothes, and then you can just lie there and be pleasured in the evening sun. How does that sound?”

  “Fucking marvelous,” she said, worried she was dribbling.

  He laughed. “Nicely put.”

  “On one condition, though. We both remove our clothes.”

  He opened his mouth to protest, but the look on her face obviously convinced him she was serious. “Callie…”

  “Once was impulse,” she said. “If we have sex again, it means there’s more between us, and whatever happens, I want to start off the right way. No secrets, Gene.”

  He glanced away, looking out to sea, his smile fading.

  “I know you have a scar,” she whispered, resting her hand on his hip. “Don’t be ashamed of it. It’s part of you, part of your past. Don’t shut me out.” She didn’t say what she was thinking—that he’d obviously shut Angela out, and that had brought about the end of their relationship. There was no way of telling how things would pan out between them, but she didn’t want to begin with them hiding more than they had to.

  She cupped his cheek and rubbed a thumb across his lips. “Deal?”

  She felt them curve up. “Deal,” he said.

  “Come on, then.” She took his hand and they walked back across the sand, then up the grassy bank and along the road to the villa. They didn’t say much as they walked, but excitement rode bareback on her blood through her veins, and she could feel his tension and knew he was experiencing the same sensations.

  Still, she couldn’t eradicate a small amount of doubt that lingered like sea spray in the air. Was she doing the right thing? The more times she slept with him, the more she was going to fall for him. She wasn’t the sort of person who could indulge in casual sex and remain untouched emotionally. How would she feel if, once again, he brought her to the dizzy heights of pleasure and then rolled over and cursed?

  Nibbling her bottom lip, she unlocked the door to her room and went in, and he closed the door behind him. As he’d promised, he crossed to the far windows and opened them wide, letting in the evening sun, smells, and sounds. The cry of seagulls and the sound of music filtered through—someone was playing Barry White on the beach.

  Gene laughed as he came back to her. “It sounds as if I’ve set that up, but I promise I haven’t.”

  Callie smiled, leaning back against a chest of drawers, then moving forward hastily as she remembered what had happened the previous night.

  He tipped his head and studied her, then turned away and walked over to the minibar. “How about a glass of wine?”

  “Just a small one.” She felt suddenly nervous, and not at all sure she wanted to go ahead with this. The heat of passion was one thing, but the things he’d told her he wanted to do to her made her hands shake as she accepted the glass half-filled with Sauvignon.

  “Try to relax.” His doubt appeared to have vanished, she wasn’t sure why, and he seemed full of confidence as he took her hand and led her over to the window. “Look at that lovely view.”

  It was gorgeous, the ocean reflecting the copper-colored sky, the sun still holding enough heat to warm her as she sipped the wine, then tilted her face up to let the cool liquid slide down her throat.

  “You’re so beautiful.”

  She looked up at him, her heart racing. He was so much taller than she was, and although she loved his suits, in his casual shirt and jeans he looked rakish and relaxed, like a cowboy who’d won a lasso competition and was now claiming his prize.

  “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” He lifted a hand and rested a finger on her bare shoulder, then slid it down her arm. “But I promise you’ll want to.”

  Callie shivered, aware she was being seduced. Last time, without meaning to, she’d done the seducing, by enticing him with suggestive looks and encouraging him to give up his principles to take her to bed. This time, though, he was the one doing the seducing. She knew that if she said no loudly, he would accept it and wouldn’t push her—he was a gentleman, after all. But he wouldn’t take her indecision or her silence as proof that she wanted him to stop. If she didn’t want to end up in bed with him, she was going to have to make it quite clear.

  His finger reached her free hand, and he lifted and turned it, then drew a spiral on her palm. She lowered her gaze to watch his strong, tanned hand move up to brush the sensitive skin of her inner wrist, then further up the ticklish skin to tease the crook of her elbow. She shuddered, then bit her lip, conscious of what he’d said the last time she’d shivered. Do that again and I’ll take you here on the sand. What a thought. Making love outdoors in broad daylight, the risk of being discovered only adding to the excitement coursing through her veins.

  He swallowed another mouthful of wine, then traced up to her shoulder, over the neckline of her dress, then across to the other arm, continuing his gentle exploration of her body. She looked up and met his eyes, feeling a sweeping sense of helplessness at the determination within them. She could read the thoughts passing through his mind, because he’d already told her them on the beach.

  I want you naked on the bed so I can kiss every inch of your skin. I want to taste you and make you come on my tongue…

  How could she fight against such a beautiful seduction? Callie was lost, and there was nothing she could do about it.

  Chapter Twenty

  Gene could tell the moment Callie surrendered and made up her mind to stay with him. In spite of her encouraging reply on the beach, as they’d entered the r
oom she’d turned stiff and reluctant, not pushing him away but not completely welcoming his touch, either. He guessed she was wary because of what had happened last time, and he cursed himself for being so selfish and cold toward her.

  It wouldn’t happen again. He was determined. He’d fought with his principles, but they weren’t strong enough to overpower his attraction to Callie, and now he’d finally accepted that he wasn’t going to hold back.

  He’d consoled himself by thinking that being this close to Callie was even better for her safety, because he wouldn’t be leaving her alone at night. He’d know if she wanted to go out for a walk, or if someone knocked on her door, or if there was someone prowling outside, and he’d be able to take steps to combat that.

  Being emotionally involved with a client might not have been the smartest thing, but he was over berating himself for it. From now on, he would stop wrangling with himself, and put all his energy into showing her how he felt about her.

  And he could see when she came to a similar decision, because her shoulders loosened, her arms slid around his waist, and she leaned against him as she reached up to kiss him properly.

  Her mouth was sweet with wine, and he gave a long sigh, enjoying not only the sensation of her pressed to him, but also the anticipation of what would happen over the next few hours. What could be better than spending a summer evening with a gorgeous, naked blonde and having his wicked way with her as often as he could manage it?

  Except she wasn’t naked yet, and it was about time he rectified that situation.

  Gently, he took her nearly finished glass of wine and placed it with his on a nearby table, then gathered the hem of her sundress in his hands and lifted it up. Callie’s eyes widened, but she just raised her arms as he pulled the dress up her body and over her head, and then let it flutter down onto the table.

  Today she wore a gorgeous bra and panties set, the satin material the color of the paua shell she’d picked up on the beach, a blend of turquoise, blue, and purple swirls, outlined in purple ribbon and with a turquoise bow between her breasts. “Another of Rowan’s designs?” he asked, running the tip of his finger beneath the ribbon along the top of her right breast.

  She nodded, her gaze fixed on his face, a small smile on her lips.

  “Pretty.” He traced across to her left breast. “So pretty I’d love to leave it on, but I’m afraid that’s not going to happen.”

  She laughed, not complaining when he moved his hands behind her back to unfasten the clasp of her bra. He loved what happened when the elastic of a bra revealed a woman’s breasts—how the boned and shaped garment collapsed in his hands and released her body, her muscles relaxing and settling to her natural shape. In Callie’s case, her breasts were on the large side but still youthfully high, and he cupped them with his palms and squeezed gently, incredibly turned on just by the feel of her, so soft and yielding in his hands.

  Tossing back her hair, she pulled back her shoulders and arched into his touch, and he sighed. Her nipples were the color of the sky to the west, a rose pink, and they felt softer than the rest of her, swollen in the heat, large and round and just begging to be teased. So he did, running a finger around the outside, which slowly contracted like a flower closing its petals for the night.

  It was no good—he needed to get his mouth on them. Wanting her to be comfortable, he took her hand and led her across to the bed, then gestured for her to climb onto the mattress while he unbuttoned his shirt. She did so, but remained kneeling as he stripped, and just sank onto her haunches while he undid his jeans and, with a deep breath, slid them down his legs and stepped out of them.

  He hated undressing in front of someone, whether it was a woman or a doctor or a friend at the pool, but Callie’s words about starting off the right way had rung home. No secrets, Gene. His hands hesitated for a brief second, the secret he still kept hanging between them like an opaque curtain, but he swept it aside and removed his briefs, returning to stand before her naked.

  Her gaze rested on his hip, soft and light as a butterfly. Slowly, as if reaching out to a wounded animal—which he supposed he was, in a way—she lifted a hand and pressed her fingertips to the scar. He looked down, embarrassed by the puckered skin, the jagged scar that was still a dark pink and stood out starkly against his tan. A bullet had smashed through his pelvis, and it had been a miracle he’d had no lasting damage to his crown jewels. It had taken several long and extensive surgeries to rebuild the bone, and he bore enough metal pins to set off the detector in an airport, but he was immensely grateful that he’d regained ninety percent of his movement. He’d worked hard to get to that stage, practically learning to walk again, but it had been worth it.

  Callie trailed her forefinger across the scar, her face showing no sign of the revulsion he’d worried would appear there. Her finger continued moving, and he caught his breath as she closed her hand around his erection.

  “Impressive,” she said. Gently, she stroked him, her hot gaze studying the way she revealed and then closed the skin over the bulbous tip.

  “Jesus.” He swelled in her hand, closing his eyes for a moment at the blissful sensation. She continued to stroke, gentle and yet firm, and he bore her touch for as long as he could before he opened his eyes and carefully removed her hand by the wrist. “Lie back,” he instructed. “My turn.”

  Callie shifted up the bed, her arms above her head, stretching elegantly, wearing nothing but her tiny panties. Her skin glistened in the warmth of the room. “Mmm,” she said, obviously enjoying the feeling of the sun across her like a golden blanket.

  Climbing onto the mattress, Gene stretched out beside her, propped up on an elbow, and looked down at her dips and curves as she wriggled like a cat beneath him.

  “I’m so turned on,” she said breathlessly. “You have a fantastic body.”

  “Thank you.” He was genuinely flattered by her comment.

  “Mmm.” She ran a hand up his arm, admiring his muscles, and down his chest, exploring his pecs and abs. “I’m so lucky.”

  “You’re lucky? I feel as if I’ve won the lottery.” Placing a hand on her thigh, he stroked up her body, following the way it curved out over her hips, then into her waist, then out again to her breasts. She closed her eyes, moving beneath his hand, her lips parting with a moan. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to just mount her and thrust them both to oblivion, but he forced himself to hold back. He wanted this to be an exploration of each other, and he wanted to draw out her pleasure until she was begging him to let her come. He wanted her crazy for him, again and again, until she couldn’t bear to be apart from him.

  So he spent a while just stroking her, learning the landscape of her body, like a sexual Marco Polo, discovering every freckle and hair, where she was ticklish, and which erogenous zones made her sigh and squirm beneath him. Eventually, when he couldn’t wait any longer, he kissed her lips, delving his tongue inside, then kissed around to her ear and sucked the lobe into his mouth. He brushed his lips down her neck, finding the spot with his tongue where her pulse raced just beneath the surface, and sucked there, giving a satisfied smirk when he lifted his head and saw that the skin in that spot had flushed pink.

  His blood rising, he kissed down to her breast, cupping it with a hand to lift the nipple to his mouth. They’d relaxed again from the warmth of the room, and when he covered each one with his mouth, it was like sucking on a soft truffle, the velvety texture making his mouth water. He squeezed them gently with his tongue to make them contract, and then he flicked and nibbled and teased with his lips until they hardened and lengthened to shining beads.

  Callie was moaning and writhing beneath him by now, and he thought it was about time that he turned his attention to the lower half of her body. So he brushed his lips slowly down her ribs, tasting her skin with his tongue, kissing over her stomach, then from hip to hip across the line of her panties. At the same time, he stroked up the inside of her thigh to cup her mound, and he pressed gently
with his fingers, massaging her folds through the satin material.

  As he’d suspected, she was swollen and wet, her panties quickly becoming soaked with her moisture, but he continued to stroke, turned on by the way the material became slippery.

  Eventually, though, he shifted on the bed and moved between her legs, kneeling up to pull her panties down. They left her wet flesh reluctantly, and she gave a little moan as they peeled away, fidgeting on the bed beneath him while he made himself comfortable.

  “Stop wriggling,” he scolded, pushing her knees wide to expose all of her to his gaze.

  She groaned and covered her face with her arms, and he gave a short laugh. Let her be embarrassed at his lustful stare. He couldn’t have stopped for the world.

  For a moment, he just studied her, admiring the glisten of her folds, the shimmer of her skin. Then he lifted a hand and stroked down either side, enjoying the feel of her silky soft body. Finally, he used both hands to part her folds, exposing her clit to his gaze.

  Lowering his head, he covered the swollen bud with his mouth. Callie gave a long, sexy moan. Slowly, he began to explore her most secret area with his lips and tongue, finding out what pressure she liked, and whether she responded to light and fast, or slow and firm licks.

  At first, her thighs remained tense on either side of him, the muscles tight, but the more he licked and sucked, the more she relaxed, her thighs loosening and her movements becoming more uninhibited.

  Only then did he add his fingers to the mix, and he slid two down and into her, slow and careful so he didn’t hurt or alarm her. There wasn’t much chance of that, though, because she was incredibly wet, and she gave small but obvious thrusts of her hips to match the movement of his fingers, encouraging him to stroke more firmly.

  “Oh…” she said, dropping her knees to the sides and surrendering to his mouth. “Gene…”