by Lia Lee
Well, except for the Porsche they’d just stepped out of, anyway.
They made their way out to the cliffs, and she gasped at her first glimpse of the sky out over the Pacific. A small sliver of burnt-orange was still visible above the dark ocean water, and above it, the sky was lavender fading to a deep purple. A few brave stars had already begun to shine, and a cool wind blew across the cliffs, lifting her dark hair.
“Oh, my God,” she whispered, almost reverently. “It’s beautiful.”
“You’ve never been here before?”
“No.”
“Good.” He squeezed her hand and spoke softly. “This weekend, I want to show you lots of things you’ve never seen before.”
In the gathering gloom, he couldn’t see her clearly, but he imagined a blush lighting up her pale cheeks, and he smiled to himself. The edge of the cliff had many narrow, treacherous paths leading down to the sea, and the cliffs themselves were riddled with caves and passages. Someday, maybe the two of them would explore it all together. But for now, just enjoying the sight of the vast ocean and the darkening sky, with her hand in his, was enough.
The two of them stood, silently watching, while the last remnants of the sunset faded, and more stars shyly began to appear, one by one.
Finally, unable to resist any longer, he pulled her toward him. She lifted her head, and their lips met.
At first, her lips brushed against his, like the breeze, cool and fresh and tanged with salt, but the kiss rapidly deepened, becoming hotter, more intense. He couldn’t stop himself from pulling her against him, needing to feel her soft, pliant body pressing against his own. He slipped a hard thigh between her legs, and she rubbed against him, whimpering.
The memory of her hot channel squeezing his fingers, clenching around them as she came, shot through him like an arrow, almost painful in its intensity. He wanted to make her come like that, over and over again. He wanted to take her fully, to thrust into her, fast and hard, filling her so deeply that they became one. He wanted to be a part of her, and for her to be a part of him.
He ached for intimacy in a way he hadn’t in a long, long time.
Even so, this wasn’t the time or the place for it. His big brain knew that, even if his little brain didn’t. Exerting every bit of self-control he possessed, he pulled away from her hot, eager lips, and gazed deeply into her fathomless eyes.
“Not here,” he said, hearing the hoarseness in his own voice. “We’re going to be staying at the Fairmont Grand Del Mar. You’ll love it. Once we get there—”
She leaned into him, peppering kisses over his throat and jawline as if he hadn’t spoken at all. All at once his knees felt strangely weak, and his heart pounded against his ribs like it was trying to get out.
“I can’t wait,” she murmured. “Please, Brent. Please.”
Dammit. He was more than twice her age, and he needed to be the grown-up here. The responsible party. And yet she was untying his tie, shoving his suit jacket off his shoulders… and he was letting her. Helping her, even. He spread his jacket over the sparse grass and hardy wildflowers that managed to grow in the rocky soil and salt air, and the two of them sank down onto it. He heard himself groaning, a feral sound of need and longing.
He couldn’t do this to her. Not like this. She deserved a soft mattress and softer sheets, the golden sheen of candlelight flickering over the two of them, the soft sounds of a Spanish guitar or a string quartet playing in the background. She was young, so young, and, he suspected very strongly, a virgin. For her first time, she deserved romance and tenderness and sweetness.
He couldn’t possibly fuck her in the grass like an animal.
But despite his better impulses, he couldn’t seem to stop his hands from roaming over her body, shoving up the flowing skirt of her dress, finding the satiny thigh-high stockings she wore, and above the lacy tops, the even more satiny flesh. Beneath his questing palms, her thighs were soft and smooth, and he longed to lose himself between them, to touch her and kiss her and draw in the spicy scent of her arousal before plunging deeply into her slick hot depths…
“Can’t,” he whispered against her throat. “We can’t, Jessica, I didn’t bring protection…”
“It’s all right.” Her hands dug into his hair, holding him fast. “I’m on the pill.”
A desperate relief flooded him. He knew he was clean, and he was almost certain she’d never been with a man before tonight. The only real concern, then, was to not get her pregnant, and like the smart young woman she was, she had that covered.
He drew back and looked at her. “You sure this is okay?”
She looked back at him. Something flickered in her gaze, for just a moment, but then she nodded resolutely.
“It’s more than okay,” she whispered. “I need you, Brent. I need you so much.”
The last remnants of his self-control shattered and blew away on the cool ocean breeze like so much dust. He found himself rucking up her skirt desperately, then yanking at the little scrap of lace that concealed her hidden flesh and tossing it aside.
And then he lowered his head, brushing kisses along the soft, tender skin of her inner thigh. The incredible scent of her arousal hit him like a hammer to the skull, dizzying him, and he struggled to control himself, doing his best to go slowly. But as he kissed his way upward, her hips rose eagerly, and her voice lifted in a desperate cry.
“Brent!”
God, she was something. Fresh and sweet and innocent, yet eager and frantic and hungry for him. As he moved upward, slowly but surely, her thighs fell apart, offering him everything she had to give.
Even so, he managed to hold himself back. His mouth moved upward, across the fabric covering her belly, and then over the soft swell of her breast. His lips fastened onto her nipple, and even through the fabric, she seemed to like it. Her hands dug into his hair harder than before, holding on so fiercely it almost hurt, and as he suckled her hips lifted against him, and a frantic noise rose from her throat.
He couldn’t hold back any longer. He had to have her. Right here, with the sound of the waves pounding against the cliffs, with the salty ocean breeze blowing across their bare skin, and the stars shimmering above. All his concerns, all his guilt, melted away in the heated cauldron of need that burned inside him.
Somewhere along the line she’d unfastened his belt and unzipped his slacks. He shoved his pants down around his thighs, heedless of the fact that they were in a public place. His usual caution, his sanity, had been consumed by the fire of need and longing burning inside him.
He knelt between her thighs, positioned himself, and pushed into her, just a bit.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’d been worried that he hadn’t prepared her enough, but he needn’t have worried. She was already wet and soft and ready for him. She cried out with unmistakable pleasure as he slipped into her slick body, and he groaned, fighting to control himself, his hands clutching convulsively at the tufts of grass beneath her.
Driven by what he guessed to be instinct rather than experience, she lifted her legs, bracing her heels on the back of his thighs. Fortunately, she’d lost her stilettos somewhere along the way. He felt himself slip deeper inside her, and they both cried out with the pleasure of it.
He wanted to surge deep into her, to thrust hard and fast, over and over again. But he caught frantically at the fraying ends of his self-control, reminding himself that she was inexperienced, probably virginal, and that she wasn’t used to being taken so forcefully. He had to go slowly… he had to…
But then her hands slid down his back, her nails digging into his ass, and he was lost. Before he knew what he was doing, he’d sunk balls-deep inside her, and the bliss of being buried in her hot, tight channel was almost unendurable. He buried his face in her neck and let out another resonant, shuddering groan.
And then, as if his body was an entirely separate entity over which he had no control at all, he was moving in and out of her, slowly, but in a steady and determ
ined rhythm. Her hips rose to meet his as well. At first her movements were erratic, hesitant, but very soon she seemed swept up in the same primal rhythm that had seized him, and their bodies moved together as if the two of them had done this many, many times before.
Brent felt the tension growing in his balls, a tight knot of need and wanting that could only be satisfied by filling her with his seed. At the thought – the idea of coming deep inside her, without any condom in the way – he almost lost it then and there.
It was, he thought, a stupid thing to get so turned on by. It wasn’t like she was going to get pregnant, after all. She was on the pill.
But even so, the thought of her slim abdomen growing round and taut with his baby inside made him shudder harder than ever. Despite himself, he felt his hips moving at a faster rate, felt himself fucking her more fiercely.
She cried out his name, a broken, half-strangled syllable, and then he felt her tight inner muscles spasming around him, hard. She wailed, her fingers digging into his shoulders, and he knew she was coming.
His own hips moved in a violent, erratic rhythm, and all at once heat swept over him like the great waves pounding at the base of the cliffs, a powerful and violent force of nature that couldn’t be resisted, that couldn’t be stopped. His come gushed into her warm, soft depths, spurt after spurt of it, and the intensity of his climax stole his breath away.
When he came back to himself, he was lying on his back next to her, her hand in his and the stars glittering overhead. He blew out a long, unsteady sigh, remembering his earlier thoughts.
A single weekend.
For the first time, he admitted he was lying to himself. There was no way a single weekend with her would be enough.
He wasn’t sure he’d ever have enough of her.
Chapter Eleven
Jessica
Three months later
“She does love penguins, doesn’t she?”
Jessica chuckled as she watched Cara dance happily toward her grandfather’s house, proudly attired in the penguin T-shirt she’d just gotten at SeaWorld. Fortunately for all of them, Donald hadn’t troubled himself to come out to greet the three of them. Instead, Cecile had come out to collect the little girl, muttering something about a conference call. Cara waved at them before disappearing inside the enormous mansion.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Brent said to his driver, “before my father decides to grace us with his presence.”
Jessica thought she saw the faintest smirk on the driver’s face, but he only nodded and said, “Very good, sir.”
The partition rolled up, giving them privacy – which was now the standard operating procedure for whenever the two of them were alone in the limo together – and the enormous car began its stately progress down the long curving driveway, bumping gently as it made its way over the cobblestones. Brent blew out a long breath, which sounded relieved to Jessica’s ears, and put his arm around her shoulders with casual familiarity.
“Thank God my father was busy.”
She giggled. She couldn’t help it. It was, she thought, terrible that Brent and his father didn’t get along – but it certainly wasn’t Brent’s fault. His father was a jerk and a bully, and he didn’t really deserve a son as wonderful as Brent, nor yet a granddaughter as amazing as Cara. He was really quite lucky Brent let him be in their lives at all, considering his terrible attitude.
“He and Cara will have a nice evening together,” she said. And it was true. Cara had a way of melting even Donald’s ice-encrusted old heart. Around her, he was almost human.
Almost.
Brent grinned and pulled her nearer. “And you and I will have a nice evening together,” he said, brushing a kiss over her hair.
She leaned into him, breathing in his clove and cinnamon scent, enjoying the warmth and the strength of him. It was nice that they could find evenings like this to share together, every so often. Between Brent’s overfull work schedule, and the fact that they had to hide their relationship from virtually everyone in their lives, it didn’t happen often. But when it did, it made for a very special night.
She only wished she felt better. She’d been fine at SeaWorld, but for some reason, the motion of the limo had been making her feel nauseated, ever since they’d gotten into the car. The Rolls was as smooth and luxurious as ever… but today her stomach didn’t like it.
Must be that hot dog I ate for lunch, she thought. She let her head rest against his shoulder and breathed deeply, doing her best to settle her uneasy insides. And make sure they stayed inside, where they belonged.
Once they got to his penthouse, and out of the gently swaying vehicle, she felt better. It was, she thought, fortunate for them both that Brent had his own place, a home he could retreat to when being around his father became too much for him.
Or when he wanted to… “entertain”.
His penthouse was located in the tallest building of the Waterfront district, situated forty-two stories above San Diego, blessed with a spectacular view of the bay. She’d been here a few times now, and she’d never failed to admire the jaw-dropping views. The two of them rode up the private elevator, hand in hand, and then Brent poured them both a glass of Chardonnay, and they stepped out onto the balcony. The sun was sinking low in the sky, and the late afternoon sunlight gilded the bay with gold.
“It’s beautiful,” she said softly.
He smiled down at her. “Everything’s beautiful when I’m with you, Jessica.”
Something in his eyes and his voice made her uncomfortable. They’d tried to keep things light over the course of their affair, but more and more often, she thought she heard a serious note in his voice when he spoke of being with her, and it made her nervous. It wasn’t that he was too old – he was, in her opinion, the sexiest man she’d ever known – but she was well aware that the world would probably think that.
And her father would, too. He might admire Brent, think of him as a good man, and consider him a close friend, but for his precious baby girl, he’d never consider a man his age to be an acceptable choice. He’d either murder Brent or have an aneurysm with rage and expire on the spot.
Not to mention Donald and Cara, both of whom would probably be greatly upset by their relationship, if for totally different reasons. She couldn’t ever bring herself to hurt Cara, who’d come to mean so much to her in so short a time. And as for Donald – well, she didn’t care what he thought, but she definitely worried about what an enraged Donald might do to Brent. She couldn’t bear the thought of Brent losing his inheritance, the house he’d grown up in, and all the opportunities wealth and status granted him, just because of her.
No, she thought, for perhaps the hundredth time. She couldn’t let this become serious. She just couldn’t.
Even so, she couldn’t pull away, either. His big hand wrapped around hers, and she tightened her fingers around his like she’d never let him go. The two of them stood there for a long while, watching the sun as it slowly sank toward the shining bay.
At last, the butler discreetly tapped on the glass door, notifying them that dinner was ready. Brent escorted her inside with great ceremony – pulling out a chair and seating her at the small table in the dining area, which overlooked the bay as well. The first course of their dinner was placed before them – miso soup, followed by salad and salmon with spring vegetables. By the time dessert was served – chocolate mousse in crystal glasses – she was starting to feel full.
And, to be perfectly honest, a little ill.
Definitely shouldn’t have had that hot dog, she thought and pushed the Baccarat glass away with regret.
Brent frowned at her. “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” she answered, though she wasn’t quite. “I’m just full. Too much junk food at SeaWorld, I guess.”
He smiled at that, and pushed his own dessert aside, half-eaten.
“I had fun today,” he said softly. “So did Cara.”
“Me too. My feet will be sore tomor
row, but it was worth it.”
She spoke lightly, but he answered with perfect seriousness. “I mean it, Jessica. You’re the only person that’s ever encouraged her to be who she is. I mean, other than me, but I’m always so busy. You’ve made a huge difference in her life.”
To her surprise, tears sprang to her eyes. Which was ridiculous. She never got teary, except right around her period. Must be that time, she thought. Hormones, ugh. She tried to calculate if her period was likely to make its unwelcome appearance tonight – which would be inconvenient, all things considered – and couldn’t quite recall the last time she’d had it.
“She’s made a huge difference in mine,” she admitted. “So have you, Brent.”
“I want you to know,” he said, looking at her with the charming earnestness that made him look so much younger, “how much you mean to us. And to me. I know things between us are complicated, but… I need you to know that this is more than just a fling, at least as far as I’m concerned. I’m falling for you, Jessica. Falling hard.”
A sudden sensation of panic caught her by the throat, choking her. For a moment, she couldn’t speak at all. The panic only intensified when he took a velvet box from his pocket and opened it, displaying a lovely pendant in the shape of a dolphin, its soft gold surface studded with glittering diamonds.
“I can’t—” she blurted, or tried to. But her throat was still not cooperating, and he didn’t seem to notice her objections. He rose to his feet, came around the table, and fastened it around her neck.
“It looks beautiful on you,” he murmured. “But then, most things do.”
Driven by her growing panic, Jessica suddenly found her voice. She rose to her feet and faced him, looking straight up into the brilliant blue eyes.
“I’ve had fun this summer,” she said, somehow managing to keep her voice steady even as her aching heart shriveled inside her chest. “But this can’t be serious, Brent. I’m going back to college soon. Senior year, remember?”