Summer's Lease: Escape to paradise with this swoony summer romance: (Shakespeare Sisters)

by Carrie Elks

  What he’d wanted, as well.

  She was the one pinned on the bed, but she was the one in control, too. Just one word and he’d let her go. A different kind of word and he’d hold her so close she wouldn’t be able to breathe.

  ‘I’m going to take your dress off now.’ Starting with the hem, he slowly lifted it over her body, revealing first her legs, then her stomach, and finally her chest. She shifted on the mattress to free up the fabric, until he lifted it over her head. Then she was lying there in front of him, in her bra and panties.

  Slowly, he allowed his eyes to roam her body, taking her all in. From the mole on her upper thigh to the soft undulation of her belly. The way her nipples were pushing against the lace of her bra. Just above the waistline of her panties her skin turned from pale to golden. He ran a finger along the divide, marvelling at her smoothness. Then he was touching her all over, allowing his hands to roam, across taut skin and muscle, then to the softer, warmer parts.

  Reaching behind her, he unclasped her bra. She was shaking beneath his touch. Not afraid though, no, definitely not that. Or no more fearful than he was about where this was going.

  ‘I’m not going to have sex with you tonight,’ he told her. The way she winced gratified him. Knowing this girl – this beautiful, clever girl – wanted him, was like a shot of adrenalin to the veins. But this thing growing between them was too delicate right now. He wasn’t willing to break it by moving too fast.

  ‘You’re not?’

  ‘I am going to touch you, though. All over.’

  ‘What if I want to touch you, too?’

  She ran her palm down his bulging jeans, curving her fingers to squeeze him. He bucked against her involuntarily, her touch taking him to the chasm between pleasure and pain. It was a relief when she unfastened his jeans, allowing his cock to escape the denim. Then she grabbed him again, this time circling her fingers around him, and it brought stars to his eyes.

  ‘Be my guest.’ His voice was guttural against her breast. Then he sucked her in and she cried out. He slid his hand inside her panties, and she was wet, so wet. His fingers sought her out, his thumb circling her until she started to moan. Her own hand fluttered on him, moving up and down erratically, squeezing his tip as she did. But even without rhythm the pleasure was almost unbearable. It took everything he had not to grab her hand and force it into his shorts.

  Her hips were circling now, moving in time to his thumb. He slid a finger inside her, then two, noticing how warm she was, how tight.

  ‘Don’t stop, please don’t stop.’

  ‘I’m not stopping, baby.’ He lifted his head from her chest. She looked fucking glorious, her head tipped back, her lips full and open. Still moving his fingers inside her, he pressed his mouth against hers. She kissed him back feverishly, her tongue curling against his, her breath warm and short when they parted.

  ‘I’m going to come.’

  She didn’t need to tell him, he could already feel her tightening around him. He flicked his thumb harder, moved his fingers faster, tasting her pleasure as he kissed her again.

  Her mouth dropped open as she lifted her hips up, her eyes wide as she stared at him. She convulsed around his fingers, her tightness only making him harder, and tiny little breaths escaped from her lips. He curled them inside her, wanting to prolong her pleasure. It was only when her body dropped back onto the mattress that he slowly slid them out.

  She was still holding his cock, though.

  ‘You’re fucking gorgeous,’ he whispered against her mouth. Seeing her explode with pleasure was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. Before he could say anything else Cesca reached inside his shorts, her hand enveloping his cock as she started to move it up and down.

  Sam squeezed his eyes shut, seeing lights dancing behind the lids. The pleasure she was creating caused him to fall back on the bed, allowing her better access to him, as she pulled him free of the jersey fabric.

  The next moment the soft warmth of her mouth slid over him. For a second he felt as if he was going to explode right there. Then she moved her lips down, enveloping him, and he thought if heaven involved sex, then he was already there.

  Sam cupped the back of her head, feeling her move up and down as she bobbed her mouth on him. It wasn’t going to take much to finish him, not when he was already so tightly wound by her, by the night, by the sight of her pleasure as it stole her breath.

  She cupped his balls, and he felt them tighten. Everything about him was narrowing into a single point. Then she slid her tongue up his shaft, circling his tip, and all he could think was ‘now, now, now . . . ’

  ‘I’m going . . . ’ The words died on his tongue. He tugged at her urgently, trying to signal his impending orgasm. She batted him off, refusing to move her mouth, instead she was sucking, licking, tasting . . .

  Behind the screen of his eyelids the pleasure exploded, turning his vision into a kaleidoscope of colours. He exploded in her mouth, too, the joy flooding out of him, as she swallowed it down. Then she pulled away, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, collapsing to the mattress where she lay next to him.

  It felt as though every bone in his body had turned to rubber. A really heavy, exhausted kind of rubber. All the frustrations of the night, his fears as she left for an evening with another man, his worry that she wouldn’t return his admiration – they all disappeared with a single breath.

  It was Cesca who broke the silence that followed. ‘Well I don’t usually do that on a first date. Especially with a guy who didn’t even go on the date.’

  The corner of his mouth twitched. ‘I’m glad to hear it.’ He reached out for her, gathering her into the crook of his arm. Like him, her movements were slow, weighed down by satiation. She curled into him again, one of her thighs sliding between his.

  ‘Stay for a while.’ Like his body, his words were heavy with fatigue.

  ‘OK,’ she mumbled into him. ‘Just for a bit.’

  Before he could protest, her breathing turned heavy and rhythmic, as sleep began to steal its way across her. He closed his eyes, letting it take him, too, still holding her against him.

  23

  This bud of love, by summer’s ripening breath, may prove a beauteous flower when next we meet

  – Romeo and Juliet

  ‘We should be able to leave early next week.’ Gabi’s voice crackled down the telephone line. ‘I just want to make sure the baby is sleeping a little better before we go. The poor little thing is waking up every two hours.’

  ‘Next week? That’s very soon.’ Cesca’s thoughts turned to Sam, who she’d left back at the villa an hour earlier. ‘I thought you’d be gone for longer.’

  Gabi laughed. ‘What happened to the girl who wanted to go back to England? Has Varenna made you fall in love with it? That happens, you know.’

  Staring out at the village square, Cesca saw how easily it could. The village had a character of its own. Traditional yet welcoming, a little piece of old Italy along the banks of Lake Como. ‘It’s a beautiful place to stay,’ she admitted. ‘I’ll miss it when I have to leave.’ The thought of returning to London made her chest hurt. She couldn’t bear to go back to that old life, not that it was any kind of existence, really. Living hand to mouth, dodging landlords and cosying up to bosses. Not able to write a single word . . .

  ‘Your contract is to stay until the end of the summer, right?’ Gabi asked. ‘And it would give me and Sandro the chance to check on his sister a few more times if you stayed around. You don’t have to leave on our account.’

  ‘We’ll see,’ Cesca replied, her mind still on London. ‘I don’t want to outstay my welcome. I’m here to do a job, after all, and once that’s done I won’t be needed here any more.’ There was that tight feeling around her ribs, again.

  After Gabi hung up, Cesca stayed in the telephone box to call Hugh. Since that first week in Varenna, she’d only spoken to him a couple of times.

  ‘How lovely to hear from you,’ Hugh said, afte
r she identified herself. ‘Would you like me to call you back? I know how expensive these long distance phone calls can be.’

  ‘It’s OK,’ she told him. ‘I’ve bought an international calling card with the money the Carltons paid me in advance.’ She didn’t want to be that girl any more.

  ‘Very wise. So how are you doing, poppet? Have you managed to get much writing done?’

  ‘As a matter of fact I have.’ Her voice was full of smiles. ‘I’m three quarters of the way through the first draft. I can’t tell you how good it feels.’ What a difference a few weeks made. She was happy to give him a positive answer.

  ‘That’s wonderful, I can’t wait to read it. I don’t suppose you can send it over to me, can you?’

  She laughed. ‘It’s on the computer at the villa, and there’s no internet access there. Besides, I’d like to wait until it’s finished if that’s OK.’

  ‘I suppose I’ll have to wait then. It won’t be that long until you come back, will it?’

  Another reminder of the limited nature of her stay here in Varenna. An unwelcome one, too. Why couldn’t she just stay here for ever, in her lovely cocoon with her writing and Sam?

  Oh, Sam. She didn’t want to think about leaving him right now. Not after the past few days.

  ‘A couple of weeks, possibly,’ she told him. ‘I spoke to Gabi earlier – she’s the housekeeper – and they’re talking about returning to Varenna next week. I’ll need to hand everything over to them and make sure it’s all shipshape.’

  ‘I thought you’d be rushing back just as soon as they arrived. Not that long ago you wanted to leave straight away.’

  ‘Yeah, well, I may have been a little precipitate,’ she admitted. ‘Uncle Hugh, I’m so glad you found me this job. It’s changed everything.’ It wasn’t hyperbole either. When she looked in the mirror this morning after cleaning her teeth she wasn’t sure she recognised the girl looking back at her. In such a good way, too. She looked healthier, stronger, and so much more in control. For the first time in years she was taking life by the horns. And the ride was starting to feel amazing.

  ‘I can’t tell you how happy that makes me, my darling.’ Hugh’s voice cracked as he replied. The closest he came to admitting to emotion. ‘Now you have to keep it up when you get home. We can look into grants, competitions, the opportunities are out there. You just need to take them.’

  She didn’t want to talk about that. Not that she wasn’t grateful for his support – she knew how lucky she was to have him. It was more that she didn’t want to face the reality of going home.

  It was like she’d been in rehab and now had to see if she could keep her sobriety back in the real world. It was scary.

  ‘That sounds good.’ She hoped he didn’t notice how quiet her voice was.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Of course he noticed. ‘I thought you’d be happier about that. My God, if you could write the way you did when you were eighteen, I can only imagine what you can produce now. All the emotion, the angst you’ve been through. It’s perfect training for a writer.’

  ‘I’m fine.’ She tried to sound resolute. ‘Honestly, you don’t need to worry about me.’ It was such a familiar refrain, but this time – for the first time in six years – it was true.

  Hugh was quiet for a moment. She tried to picture him in his London apartment, sitting on one of his antique chairs. In her mind she could see rain pebbling against the window, obscuring the grey clouds outside. ‘Well, let me know when you’re ready to come home. I can arrange for you to be picked up at the airport. Do you know where you’re planning to live? I could clear out my spare bedroom.’

  ‘I’ll find somewhere,’ she said. ‘If the worst comes to the worst I can stay with my father for a few days. And you don’t need to pick me up, I can use the Underground. I can afford it now.’ Not for long, though. Not without a job or benefits.

  ‘Well, the offer’s always open. I’m looking forward to seeing you. And to reading your play.’

  ‘I’m looking forward to it, too.’ A tiny lie. Because she loved him, and at any other time it would be true.

  When she arrived back at the villa, arms laden with food, Sam was waiting for her at the gate. He’d taken a chair out there and was editing her work in the sun, crossing through her words. He looked up when he heard her approaching, a smile breaking out on his face. She wanted him to lift his sunglasses, too, so she could see his eyes. She hated it when she couldn’t see them.

  ‘I hope you’re wearing sunscreen,’ she said, as he took the bags from her hands. ‘It’s almost midday.’

  ‘I hope you are, too,’ he said pointedly. ‘Especially with your pale skin.’

  She looked down at her arms. ‘I’m not pale. Well, not any more, anyway.’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘Parts of you are.’ She sensed his gaze sweeping down over her body. Was it wrong that she liked his appreciation?

  ‘You don’t exactly have an all-over tan,’ she said, as they crunched their way along the gravelled driveway.

  ‘No I don’t.’ His smile was slow, but devastating. ‘But I don’t think sunbathing naked would do a whole lot for my public profile.’

  She raised her eyebrows. ‘Oh, I think you’re wrong. Imagine the girls’ reactions when they see how . . . um . . . impressive you are.’

  Sam chuckled. ‘You think I’m impressive?’

  How did she manage to get herself into these conversations? For a girl who was supposed to be good at words, she managed to get tied up in knots whenever she was talking to Sam.

  ‘As I told you, I don’t have that much experience.’ She grinned, running lightly up the steps to the front door.

  The corner of his mouth twitched. ‘You did tell me that.’ Was it her imagination or had his voice become lower and thicker? Much like the atmosphere between them.

  ‘I wonder if it’s possible for us to talk without innuendos,’ Cesca said.

  ‘That would be very boring,’ he replied. ‘I like talking to you in innuendos.’

  ‘You do?’

  He laughed again. Everything he did only heightened her attraction to him. She hated that. She loved it too.

  ‘It’d be boring if we just talked about the weather. And pretty unsexy if we used all the anatomical words. Innuendos seem like a good compromise to me.’

  ‘In that case, I found your, ah, flashlight very impressive.’

  Sam spluttered. ‘My flashlight? Wow, I’m not sure if that’s an innuendo or just an insult.’

  ‘Is it too small?’ she asked. ‘Too big? Is there a better way of describing it?’

  ‘How about my cock?’

  Cesca gasped. ‘I can’t believe you just said that. Cock isn’t an innuendo. It’s a real description, and a rude one at that.’

  ‘You think cock’s rude?’

  ‘Sam!’ Her cheeks were flaming. She must look so much like a prude. Shaking her head, she walked into the kitchen, with him following closely behind.

  ‘You didn’t seem to think it was rude last night when you were kissing it.’

  Wow, she really hadn’t expected him to be so direct. And it wasn’t as if she was completely innocent. After all, she’d had sex before, she’d read dirty books, and she knew all the words she needed to. But hearing them come from his mouth was dirty and exciting and made her light up inside.

  ‘Say it,’ he said, taking a step towards her, sliding his sunglasses over his head.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Cock. I want to hear you say it.’

  ‘No way.’

  ‘Say it.’ Another step towards her. ‘Or are you too scared?’

  ‘I’m not scared of you.’ Except she was, just a little bit. Scared of the way he made her feel.

  ‘Then I want to hear it come from your mouth. Just four little letters, Cesca. C. O. C. K. Now say it.’

  Sam moved closer still, until their legs were touching, their torsos only inches apart. He leaned forward, his hands flat on the work surface, until he was c
aging her in. A thrill shot through her at his proximity. She could smell the woody fragrance of his cologne, and it made her want to run her nose up and down his throat until she got more.

  The look of amusement on his face mixed with desire. ‘Come on, baby.’

  ‘There’s not a rat’s chance in hell that I’ll say it.’

  ‘Then I’ll have to make you.’

  Her eyebrows rose up in challenge. ‘Try it.’

  He leaned forward, taking her chin into his hand. There was a heat in his eyes that she could feel burning at her, too. He pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth, and she felt their softness, their warmth.

  ‘Say it, baby.’ He kissed his way along her bottom lip, until it started to tremble. ‘Say it, and I’ll make it worth your while.’

  His tongue slid along the seam between her lips, dipping inside. Without a conscious thought she opened for him, kissing him back as he pushed inside, his hand still cupping her face. Cesca’s eyes fluttered closed, her breathing stilted as Sam’s body pressed against hers. She could feel it all; the hard planes of his chest and stomach, the thick muscles of his arms. The way he grew hard against her as she pushed herself into him, giving herself up to his passionate embrace.

  Sam was the first to break the kiss. Cesca let out a little whimper before he moved his lips to her neck, kissing the sensitive skin there.

  ‘Say it,’ he whispered against her.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Say it or I’ll stop.’

  ‘You wouldn’t.’ Her words were a gasp. He’d paid attention, learning which parts of her to target, and he was applying his knowledge with vigour.

  ‘Try me.’ She could feel his lips curving into a smile against her skin as he stole her words. Then he pulled back, the sudden rush of air against her skin underscoring his absence. Her eyes flew open, and she went to grab his head, wanting him back there.

  ‘Sam, please.’ Her cheeks were bright red.

  ‘Cock,’ he teased. ‘Cock, cock, cock.’

  ‘OK!’ She threw her hands up. ‘You want me to embarrass myself?’