The Argentinian's Demand

by Cathy Williams

  He had to press down firmly on his erection to stop himself from being tempted to rush things so that he could hurry towards his own satisfaction.

  He let her tease him with her hands and her mouth, but he had to pull back often, because she knew just how to arouse him, just how to tip him over the edge. It was as if she had complete control over his body. And whilst it was bloody marvellous on the one hand, on the other it did require a great deal of self-control and gritting of teeth to stop himself from coming prematurely.

  He moved down to lick her stomach, squirming his tongue into the neat indentation of her belly button and enjoying her little whimpers of pleasure. Then he covered her hand with his and eased himself down along her body until he could breathe in the sweet, fragrant aroma of her womanhood.

  He parted the shell-like lips and dipped his tongue in—just a quick flick, establishing intent. Then he blew softly, which had her almost completely melting and wriggling, so he stilled her with his hand even though he knew that she would be finding it difficult to keep still.

  Her body burned for his. She twisted and he tapped her gently and told her to keep still,

  ‘Or,’ he drawled, ‘I’ll have to introduce a little light bondage... Would you like that?’

  The image nearly sent her into meltdown. She nodded and blushed, and then met his eyes with hers and held his stare.

  ‘You’re turned on at the thought of it, aren’t you, my darling?’ Leandro grinned.

  If he hadn’t been so hot, and so in need of finishing what they had started, he would have hunted down something suitable to take their lovemaking down a slightly different road. But that, he decided, would have to wait. He literally wouldn’t be able to hold out for the time it would take to find some strips of cloth...

  In fact he could barely hold out long enough after he had licked and teased that swollen bud to equip himself with a condom, but equip himself he did.

  Emily felt that her body would combust if he didn’t fill her soon. He was so big, so thick, that when he entered her, her entire body was set alive, every nerve-ending satisfied.

  But, as usual, he would do nothing until he had ensured protection. Even though she was now on the pill, and even though she had told him more than once that there was no need for him to wear a condom.

  Even the pill, he had told her, could fail, and he wasn’t going to be taking any chances...

  More than anything else this told a story of its own. The guy who wanted a football team of kids would never take chances unless it was with a woman he truly cared about—a woman with whom he could envisage having those children.

  Underneath the burning lust, how could he respect someone who had slept with him when she had been engaged to someone else? He had never, ever said anything to give her any reason to believe that contempt laced his feelings towards her, but deep down she harboured that nagging worry.

  It was just something else she had conditioned herself to ignore—because what would be the point of analysing it?

  She closed her eyes and gasped with pleasure as he thrust deep into her, and then again, moving strong and hard and banishing her uncomfortable thoughts until sensation took over, spiralling and spilling over into wave upon wave of shuddering orgasm.

  Their rhythms matched perfectly. Their bodies were so tuned in to one another that instinct guided them. When they came, they came together.

  She felt his big body lose control and, as always, felt the heady sensation of absolute happiness that this man could do this to her and she could do the same for him.

  Subsiding back to Planet Earth, Leandro almost missed the sound of his cell phone buzzing from where he had earlier chucked it.

  Emily was fond of telling him that he had no respect for his possessions. He treated his expensive clothes as though they’d been bought cheap at a market and were disposable. He had a drawer full of smartphones, most of which had cracked screens. But Leandro found that her gentle nagging did not irritate him in the slightest. On the contrary, he rather enjoyed it—although he wasn’t quite sure why.

  ‘Your phone’s ringing.’

  Emily lay back and stretched and for a few seconds Leandro was driven to watch her, because the movement was so unconsciously graceful.

  ‘I’m busy. I’ll get it later.’

  ‘What are you busy doing?’

  ‘I’m busy looking at the woman in my bed.’

  Emily blushed and savoured the appreciative gleam in his dark eyes. ‘It could be important.’

  ‘Not as important as watching you. Or...’ he slid out of the bed, reached down and scooped her up in one easy movement ‘...as important as having a bath with you. It’s fair to say that both those activities take precedence over some work-related issue that can be dealt with later...’

  He enjoyed having baths with her. He liked the feel of her body when it was wet and slick with soapsuds. It reminded him of how she had felt in the sea...with his arms around her... Those last few days on the island after she had come to him had been mind-blowing. Occasionally he caught himself wondering whether he shouldn’t engineer another spurious work-related trip out there just so that they could repeat the experience...

  He had been to numerous breathtaking destinations during his lifetime, but never before had he ever felt the need to revisit any of them.

  They took their time in the bath. It was a giant-sized bath, big enough to accommodate him comfortably. He could lie down and she could lie on top of him, her back against his torso, their knees protruding through the bubbles. She could feel him pressing against her, could know exactly how aroused he was, and he in turn could explore every inch of her wet body with his hands, soaping and massaging and generally working them both up to a state of maddening arousal.

  His mind drifted back to the suggestion of a holiday with her, back to the island. Or they could go somewhere else. She had been abroad, apparently, as a child—presumably before her father had disappeared—but as an adult she had taken lamentably few holidays. He couldn’t quite figure out why that would be when she was so highly paid and could have afforded some pretty good holidays abroad—if not twice a year, then at least once.

  He could take her to Paris. Rome. Venice. All three. Or they could go further afield. Mauritius. The Maldives. Some other exotic destination where he could savour her delight and enjoy every new experience with her through fresh eyes. It was an appealing thought.

  He would talk to her later, feel out the ground. She was remarkably independent and he certainly didn’t want that to change—certainly didn’t want to introduce any element to their relationship other than transitory.

  And yet...

  They finally emerged from the bath. Standing in front of the mirror, he could watch her reflection—watch as she towelled herself dry, ending up with her hair, which she rough-dried before running her fingers through it, trying to disentangle the knots.

  She caught his eye and grinned. ‘Your phone’s going again.’

  Leandro took his time. When he finally made it to his mobile it had stopped ringing and there was a voicemail message to pick up from the guy he had not expected to hear back from so soon. Only hours after instructions had been given. Money certainly bought speed.

  In the bathroom, doing something about her hair, Emily was unaware that Leandro had left the bedroom. She dressed, dabbed on some make-up, and when after half an hour he’d failed to reappear she headed down to the kitchen, where he was most likely to be.

  His apartment was more of a townhouse than a flat, and spanned three floors of unadulterated luxury. She had become quickly accustomed to the display of wealth and now she bypassed the paintings, the handmade furniture and mirrors, the wood and marble, until she ended up in the kitchen to find him staring out through the French doors with his back to her.

  He didn’t turn aroun
d when she walked up behind him.

  ‘Everything okay?’

  Leandro turned slowly to look at her. He had changed into casual clothes and had his hands shoved deep into his pockets. His hair was still damp and was swept back from his face.

  ‘There’s a guy who works for me,’ Leandro said expressionlessly. ‘His name’s Alberto. I use him when I want sensitive information unearthed. He’s not high-profile in the company but he’s a key member of my team and he’s very good at what he does.’

  ‘Why are you telling me this?’

  ‘Because I had him do a few background checks on your ex-fiancé...’

  ‘You did what...?’ Emily made her way to a chair and sat heavily.

  ‘Well might you look as white as a ghost.’

  ‘You had no right!’

  ‘You’re my woman. I had every right, considering the circumstances surrounding this relationship of ours, and I can tell that you’re just dying to find out what my private investigator told me... Or maybe you have an idea... Yes, I’m guessing you do have an idea...’

  ‘I know you’re going to jump to all the wrong conclusions,’ Emily muttered.

  ‘I’ve heard of marrying for security, Emily, but you really take the biscuit, don’t you?’

  His voice was neutral but he could feel pure rage coursing through his veins like poison. This was the woman who had obsessed him to such an extent that he had actually considered going on holiday with her! A woman who had cast such a powerful spell that for the first time in his life work had become a secondary consideration! He had spent so long thinking with the wrong part of his body that the reality of what had been happening under his nose was a bitter pill to swallow.

  Even worse was the fact that as she sat there, staring up at him with those big cornflower-blue eyes, his body was still letting him down!

  ‘I finally understand why you did what you did. Why you launched yourself into a relationship with me when there was some sad sack in the background, waiting for you to show up at the aisle. Because a gay husband doesn’t require fidelity, does he?’

  Emily shook her head mutely.

  ‘You were marrying your gay friend because you felt safe with him. Your father had instilled in you a belief that you were never to trust a man, but you could trust a man who would never take advantage of you. You could marry someone for affection because it was better than never getting married. Oh, and of course he came with a hefty bank balance... Maybe you figured that you didn’t want to spend the rest of your life working hard but still never really being able to afford the best. Maybe you thought that a rich guy who could never threaten you on the physical front, who could never touch you enough to hurt you, was worth the sacrifice...’

  Emily, her head lowered, didn’t say anything. This was her big chance to fill in the missing blanks in the picture he was painting, but what would be the point? This wasn’t a committed relationship in which she would fight for him. This was a one-sided relationship which was always going to see her being the mug who got hurt.

  And he had got so much right, at any rate...

  ‘So?’ Leandro prompted impatiently. ‘Have you nothing to say?’

  He raked frustrated fingers through his hair and glowered at her from a distance. Naturally what they had was well and truly over, but the thought of her exiting in a shroud of silence filled him with impotent rage.

  ‘Shall I continue telling you what I think the ending to this story is?’ he thundered, making her jump and forcing her to look at him as he strode towards her and planted himself directly in her line of vision.

  ‘Do I have a choice?’

  Leandro turned away. He could feel her, and it put him off his stride. Now was not the time to have any lapses in concentration.

  ‘I think you figured that you could dump the security and hang on to me for as long as you could. You know from first-hand experience how generous I am with my lovers...’

  Emily’s mouth dropped open and she stared at him in dismay. ‘That’s crazy,’ she said, flabbergasted at his leapfrogging of information to reach the wrong conclusions.

  And yet, how could she blame him? Her behaviour had not been straightforward. She had given him half-truths and the fewest possible details about Oliver she had been able to get away with. Naturally she had known what he would think had he discovered that her intended groom was gay—what anyone would think—and so she had concealed that small but glaringly important detail. How could she have said anything?

  She looked at him helplessly and her blue eyes tangled with his hostile, cold, dark ones.

  ‘I would never use...’

  Wouldn’t she? Use someone for money? Hadn’t she done just that with Oliver? And even if it was by mutual agreement, did that make the slightest difference?

  ‘I think I should go.’ She hovered for the briefest of moments, willing him to beg her to stay. As if he would!

  ‘Is that it?’ Leandro heard the edge of what sounded like fury and frustration in his voice and hated the vulnerability that came with it.

  ‘I’m not after your money.’

  ‘Oh, please. I should have seen the warning signs. I once nearly got sucked in by someone of your kind—someone who did such a damn good job of pretending that I was almost conned into believing the woman wasn’t a gold-digger. To think I was nearly had again. The big blue eyes and the trembling mouth aren’t going to cut it, darling. You can tell me till you’re blue in the face that you weren’t with me for the money—with sex, I’m sure, a nice bonus on the side—but face it... You don’t deny that you were planning on marrying a guy who could never have fulfilled you physically because it was convenient...because he came with a nice, convenient bank balance...’

  ‘Sometimes we do things that we may not particularly have mapped out for ourselves when we were young and idealistic...’

  ‘You’re still young!’

  ‘But I dumped the ideals a long time ago!’

  If only. She hadn’t, had she? No, they had all been waiting there for the right guy to come along and turn her world upside down... For the right guy to hurt her.

  She turned away, trembling. ‘I’ll go now,’ she said stiffly.

  Surprised, she realised that her hands were balled into tightly clenched fists and she slowly relaxed them and flexed her fingers.

  ‘I don’t want you to think the worst of me.’ The plea was wrenched out of her.

  ‘Then why don’t you try telling me something to prevent that from happening!’ Leandro stared at her and then flung his hands up in a gesture of enraged dismissal. ‘I thought not! Well, Emily, it was always going to end. And you know where the door is...’

  CHAPTER TEN

  LEANDRO HEARD THE doorbell through a haze of too much alcohol. He had always made it a rule never to drink beyond a certain amount. He had been to far too many client events where the champagne had flowed and things had been said and done that were regretted in the cold light of day.

  But five minutes after she had walked out of his house the bottle of wine had suddenly become his best friend.

  He groggily looked at his watch, registering that it was after midnight and that he was still slumped in the chair in the sitting room where he had been for several hours, bar a couple of essential trips to the bathroom.

  He heard the doorbell again, finger-on-buzzer-not-stopping-till-you-get-this style, and swore softly under his breath.

  Emily. Who else? For a few seconds he contemplated not getting it, because there was nothing she had to say to him that could possibly alter his opinion of her. Nothing at all.

  But he’d spent the past few hours drowning something or other in a bottle and why shouldn’t she see it? He’d probably feel a damn sight better if he really offloaded on her! Really told her exactly what he thought about someo
ne who had played him for a fool. He’d thought he could never be had again. He’d been wrong. Wouldn’t it feel good to vent that anger and frustration?

  He walked in a fairly straight line and yanked open the front door.

  Emily, having chewed over the way they had parted company and made the brave decision to return to his house, stared at him in surprise.

  ‘Are you drunk?’

  His hair looked as though he had run his fingers through it a million times and his shirt was hanging loose over the waistband of his trousers. He was barefoot.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  Was he posturing? Defensive? Neither option was cool and he scowled at her, noting in passing that she looked as fresh as a daisy despite the lateness of the hour.

  ‘And how did you get here anyway?’ He squinted to see if he could make out a taxi and couldn’t.

  ‘Tube and foot.’

  ‘That’s bloody crazy,’ Leandro growled.

  ‘Not as crazy...’ Emily took a deep, fortifying breath and looked at him without blinking. ‘Not as crazy as if I were to head back home by tube and foot, because there was a group of drunken teenagers outside the station, but that’s what I’ll do if you don’t let me in.’

  It was all bravado. She hoped he couldn’t detect the desperate edge to her voice. Of course the outcome of this unexpected visit would change nothing, but she had had no choice but to come. To tell him everything. She didn’t want, never mind expect, his sympathy, but she had finally come to the conclusion that love wasn’t just painful, it also made a shambles of all your good intentions and put you in a place where you just could no longer forge ahead and think straight. You found yourself compelled to do things that went against the grain—compelled to ditch your pride, to become...vulnerable, whatever the consequences.

  ‘You’d better come in, but I should warn you that you’re an uninvited guest and the only reason I’m not shutting the door on you is because I wouldn’t send my worst enemy out at this hour, to face the vagaries of public transport.’