by Tina Folsom
“Oh baby, you don’t know what this means to me!” Despite the fact that Holly was an escort, a fact she’d just reminded him of once more, he couldn’t help but rejoice at her words.
She didn’t have to sleep with him. Their verbal contract didn’t require her to. But to know that she desired him, ached for him, spoke to everything male in him. The woman in his arms wanted him, not for his money or status, not for his family connections or what he could do for her, but simply because she knew they could give each other unbelievable pleasure. That was all that was important right now.
Reality would come crashing down on them soon enough. But for now, for this week, Holly would be his. And he promised himself he’d make the most of it.
Paul rolled onto his back and took Holly with him so she was on top of him. When she lifted herself up to sit, he pulled on the red teddy and lifted it over her head.
“I missed you,” he said, his eyes taking in the beautiful sight of her naked body. “Now, my beautiful nymph, why don’t you lean over to the bedside table and get me a condom so we don’t waste any more time tonight?”
She graced him with a seductive smile. “So you’ve decided to order me around?”
“If you don’t get that condom now, I’m going to do a lot more than that,” he warned her without malice.
Holly bent to the side, opened the drawer of the bedside table, and removed a condom from it while he admired her breasts as they hung there suspended. When she leaned back toward him, he couldn’t resist and brought one breast to his face, sucking the tip of it into his mouth.
Holly pressed herself against him, straddling his groin, her sex rubbing against his hard-on. Her wetness spread on his cock, and if he didn’t put the condom on in the next two seconds, he would be inside her without it, fucking her without protection and spilling his seed into her when he came.
Fuck! That thought excited him more than it should. He’d never before taken that kind of risk. Before he could do something stupid, he ordered her, “Put the condom on me. Quickly!”
Holly ripped the foil packet open, and with expert hands she sheathed him with the thin latex. When she smoothed down the condom, she almost robbed him of his control.
“Now, ride me, my beautiful Lady Godiva, or I’ll flip you onto your back and take what I want.”
“Well, in that case,” she purred, “I’d better obey.”
Holly lifted herself onto her knees and brought her pussy to hover over his cock. Instinctively Paul placed his hands on her hips, not to push her down on his cock, but to slow her descent.
“Easy, baby,” he warned when she tried to take him inside her with one thrust. “I’m like a powder keg. And I don’t think you want me to explode yet, do you?”
Holly bent closer so that her nipples rubbed against his chest. “A little sensitive?”
“You would be, too, if you hadn’t had sex in two months.”
When Holly’s eyes widened, he realized what he’d inadvertently said. He hadn’t wanted to admit this to her, because he didn’t want it to be misconstrued. Yes, it was true that he hadn’t been with a woman since that fateful night with Holly, but that didn’t mean anything.
“I was working day and night,” he added now, trying to downplay his confession.
Ah, fuck! Who was he kidding? No other woman had interested him, and he hadn’t even engaged in anonymous one-night stands, or been out on a single date. Hell, he hadn’t even kissed another woman.
He couldn’t allow her to think about this, so he did the only thing he could to distract her: He pushed her hips down and rammed his cock upward, driving himself into her to the hilt. The intensity of the sensations engulfing him almost robbed him of his control. But in the last second, he pulled himself back from the brink.
“God, you feel good!” he gritted out from between clenched teeth. “Now ride me, Holly!”
Holly followed his command, mesmerized not only by the lust blazing from his eyes and the raw emotion in his words, but also intrigued by his earlier words, the ones he’d dismissed so quickly.
You would be, too, if you hadn’t had sex in two months.
The reason she knew he’d spoken the truth was because he’d wanted to take those words back immediately. Had he wanted to butter her up with a remark like that, he wouldn’t have tried to dismiss it by blaming work for his lack of sex.
So why had he been celibate for the last two months?
Did it truly mean what she hoped it meant—that Paul hadn’t been able to forget her, just like she hadn’t been able to forget him?
Holly began to move, first slowly, lifting herself up onto her knees, then dropping back down to take him deep into her. She’d missed that feeling of being filled and stretched, of Paul trying to get as deep inside her as humanly possible. With every thrust, her heart beat faster and the temperature of her body rose.
Paul’s hands roamed her body, alternately stroking her backside, then squeezing her breasts and caressing her nipples, as if he didn’t know what to do first. She felt his desire for her physically, and couldn’t help but be affected by it.
“I want you,” she whispered.
His eyes met hers, and within their dark depths she saw agreement. “You’ve got me.” His hands gripped her hips, and he slammed her down on his cock, harder than before.
She knew what he wanted to tell her with his words and his actions. That he enjoyed sex with her more than anything and that in bed, he would be hers to do with as she pleased. It would have to be enough. At least it was something nobody could take away from her.
“I love how your cock thrusts into me,” she said, knowing how much he liked it when she talked dirty.
“Fuck, Holly! Another word, and I’m coming.” He clenched his teeth, and then suddenly, without a warning, he rolled and flipped her on her back. “When I’m coming, I want to fuck you so hard that I rob you of your breath.”
She smiled up at him. “I love a man who knows when to take charge.” Because what she needed right now was a good pounding.
“Oh, yeah? You think you can take it?” He pulled his hips back.
“Don’t tease me.”
Paul slammed his cock into her, making her breath rush from her lungs.
“Oh Paul, yes! Yes! Again! Please!” She was out of control now. Nothing mattered but feeling Paul’s body take charge of hers, giving her pleasure and guiding her to her climax. “Make me come, Paul!”
“Anything you want, baby.”
Then his hips worked frantically, and he fucked her harder and faster than he’d done during their first night. Sweat was building on his face and chest and every time their bodies slammed together, the sound echoed in the room, and Holly was sure it could be heard all the way down the hallway to the guest room.
“So good,” she pressed out, panting.
“Yes,” he responded and dropped his head to her. “So good.” Then his lips were on hers and he kissed her.
Everything disappeared into the distance. Everything but Paul. They could have been in a bare shack, making love on a hard cot, and she wouldn’t have noticed.
When she felt her orgasm approach, her body stiffened, and Paul released her lips.
“Yes, baby, together,” he encouraged her.
The wave of her orgasm hit her. “Paul!” Then she felt his cock jerk inside her and Paul’s loud moan filled the room. A shudder ran through his body and collided with the shivers that went through hers.
Moments later, he collapsed on top of her, bracing his elbows and knees on the mattress to keep his weight off her.
Holly breathed hard, trying to force air into her lungs. She heard him breathe just as heavily. It took long seconds before Paul lifted his head.
He brushed a blond lock out of her face, a gesture so tender it threatened to push tears to her eyes.
“I think I should make you jealous more often,” he murmured.
“Jealous? I’m not jealous!” she protested instantly, raising her v
oice.
“Mm-hm,” he hummed, and brushed his lips over hers with a feather-light touch. “Now, be a good girl and kiss me.”
“Or?” she challenged.
He moved his head back by a few inches, so their gazes met. “Or I’m going to have to make love to you all night. And trust me when I tell you that you do not want to have to explain to my mother tomorrow why you’re walking funny.” Paul laughed.
“Paul Gilbert, you’re a rotten son of—”
She didn’t get to continue cursing him, because he lowered his mouth and kissed her. Not hard and fast, but tenderly. And that tenderness robbed her of the will to resist any longer. She slung her arms around his back and caressed his nape. He shivered under her touch.
“Much better,” he murmured, interrupting the kiss.
“Stop talking,” Holly demanded.
“Yes, ma’am.”
21
The smell of coffee greeted him as he entered the kitchen. It appeared that Tara was already up and had made coffee. Not that it was a surprise. After all, he and Holly had slept in, engaging in more pleasurable activities.
Paul turned to Holly, whose hand he was still holding, and pulled her against his chest. “Looks like we don’t have to make breakfast.”
She lifted herself onto her tiptoes. “Coffee hardly qualifies as breakfast.” She leaned in and gave him a peck on the lips.
Before she could withdraw, he’d lifted her up and was kissing her in earnest. Damn, he just couldn’t get enough of her. After making love to her half the night and then again in the morning, he should be sated. Instead, he wanted more. Holly was truly addictive.
If they’d been alone in the house, he would have lifted her onto the kitchen counter and stripped her bare right there. But unfortunately they weren’t alone. He suspected that Tara was sitting out on the terrace enjoying her coffee and could come back into the kitchen at any moment.
“Damn it! I told you to take his hand!” he suddenly heard a very familiar female voice yell from the front of the house.
Paul released Holly and set her back on her feet. He sighed. “So much for a peaceful breakfast. It appears my sister and her brood have arrived.”
The shrill scream coming from a small child nearly pierced his eardrum. And with it, his heart. He’d heard that scream more often than he cared to remember and would recognize it anywhere: His nephew Jonathan was upset again.
“You said you had him!” Quentin’s angry voice yelled back. “I’m dealing with the fucking luggage.”
Jonathan continued to cry, his wail echoing through the entire house.
Holly shot Paul a panicked look. “The child is hurt.”
Paul pulled up one side of his mouth. “I doubt it. Jonathan always screams like that when he can’t get his parents to pay attention to him.” Not that screaming would help the poor child. He motioned to the door to the hallway. “Let me give them a hand before they start fighting.”
Holly raised her eyebrows. “They sound like they’re fighting already.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet. When they really do start fighting, just stay out of the line of fire. Let me warn you: They will fight while they’re here. It’s only a matter of time.”
“Then why do they stay married?”
Paul shrugged. “For the kids, I guess. If you ask me, my sister should have been more careful and not gotten pregnant in the first place.”
Holly suddenly stopped in her approach. “What do you mean?”
“She was crazy in love with Quentin, but their relationship was always rocky. Olivia figured things would change if she got pregnant. So she did. He did the honorable thing and married her, but I can’t see that either of them is all that happy.”
Holly’s face fell. “Oh.”
Paul reached for her hand. “Come. Let me introduce you. And don’t worry about them. It’s their life.”
The moment he stepped into the hallway with Holly in tow, Paul entered chaos. He knew that for the next three days while his sister and her family were visiting, there would be no escaping this. The only way to survive it would be to take it all in stride.
Olivia, her long dark hair pulled together in a messy ponytail, had several smaller bags slung over her shoulder and carried a cardboard box laden with pastries, which she rested on her pregnant belly, while three-year-old Jonathan tugged at her leg. He was dressed like a little sailor and would have looked adorable, had he not been screaming at the top of his lungs with tears streaming down his face. He looked utterly miserable.
Meanwhile, Quentin lugged in two large suitcases and dropped them in front of the stairs. “I don’t know why we couldn’t just take one suitcase,” he complained.
Olivia whipped her head to him. “And where would I have put Jonathan’s clothes and toys?”
“Well, you didn’t have to bring ten outfits for him for three days!”
“Hey, Sis,” Paul interrupted, hoping to prevent the argument from turning into a full-fledged fight.
Olivia sighed and forced a smile. “Hey, Paul! Thank God you’re here already. Would you mind taking Jonathan?”
Paul sighed. He doubted he’d have a fighting chance to calm the child. Jonathan wanted his mother, not an uncle he barely knew. “Sure thing.”
As he walked toward Olivia and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, he nodded toward her husband. “Quentin.”
“Paul.”
Relieved that he didn’t have to conduct any small talk with Quentin, who, despite his khaki shorts and expensive polo shirt, looked as though he’d swallowed a broomstick, Paul bent down to his nephew. “Hey, buddy!”
He reached for the boy, trying to lift him into his arms, when Jonathan started screaming even louder. Paul looked up at his sister. “I don’t think he likes me.”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “Well, he doesn’t seem to like me right now either. Join the club.”
He could hear the frustration in her voice. While he felt for his sister, Paul didn’t think her attitude helped calm down her son. Kids were smart: They picked up when their parents were upset.
“Let me try,” Holly suddenly said from beside him as she bent down.
“Are you sure?” he murmured to her. “You know this is not your responsibility.”
Holly smiled at him. “I’d like to.”
Paul rose from his crouching position and stepped back, when he caught his sister’s inquisitive look. “Oh, Olivia, meet my girlfriend, Holly. Holly, this is Olivia and her husband Quentin.”
Holly smiled up. “Nice to meet you.” Then she focused her attention on Jonathan again. She reached out to him and spoke in a quiet and calm voice. “Hey, Jonathan. I’m Holly. I’ve been so looking forward to meeting you. I’m so excited that you’re finally here.”
To Paul’s utter surprise, Jonathan’s cries simmered down to a low whine. He let go of his mother’s leg and took a tentative step toward Holly. His tiny hand reached out to her and he grabbed one of her blond locks.
“You like those, Jonathan?” Holly cooed, letting him play with the strand.
Then she lifted him into her arms and rose. Seemingly fascinated by her hair, Jonathan brought his head closer to it until he buried his face in it and started laughing when the strands tickled his face.
When he threw his head back and gurgled happily, Olivia tossed Paul a surprised look. “Paul, I like her. I think you should keep her.”
Paul laughed and caught Holly’s embarrassed look, which she tried to hide by softly murmuring to the child again. “I have every intention of doing just that. But don’t think you’ll be getting a permanent free babysitter out of this deal!” He put a possessive arm around Holly.
“You’re such a spoilsport!” Olivia complained, then smiled at Holly. “I’d shake your hand, but it looks like I don’t have a free one.”
Paul released Holly. “Let me give you a hand.” He reached for the bags over Olivia’s shoulder, but his sister shook her head.
“No, take
the pastries and put them in the kitchen. I brought Dad’s favorites from the bakery in our town.”
“Dad’s not here right now. He and Mother are picking up Great-aunt Mirabelle. I expect them back sometime today.” Paul took the cardboard box from his sister’s hands. “But if those are Dad’s favorites, then they’re my favorites too.” He lifted the lid.
Olivia playfully slapped his hand. “If you eat them all before Dad can have one, I’m going to strangle you.”
Paul peeked into the box and counted. “There are four of his favorites, plus a ton of others. How many does a man need? Besides, I haven’t had breakfast yet.”
Olivia furrowed her forehead. “It’s past ten o’clock. What have you been doing all morning?”
Instinctively, Paul’s gaze drifted to Holly, who’d heard the question too. To his surprise, her cheeks colored a pretty shade of pink. When he looked back at Olivia, his sister seemed to have noticed the short exchange.
Olivia sighed. “At least one of us is having fun.”
She tossed a look over her shoulder, where Quentin had started to lug one of the suitcases up the stairs. There was a yearning look in his sister’s eyes, and it made Paul’s heart ache for her.
22
“Jonathan, stop!” Olivia called after the little rascal, who was now charging over the terrace and into the house, while his parents were sitting on the comfortable lounge chairs, enjoying a late afternoon drink.
Paul jumped up from his chair, but Holly stopped him. “I’ll go after him.”
“Would you?” Olivia asked, relief in her voice. “That’s so nice of you.”
“Sure, I don’t mind,” Holly replied and walked to the door.
Behind her, Tara asked, “Who wants refills on their drinks?”
“I’ll have another one,” Quentin said eagerly. “Let me give you a hand in the kitchen. Paul, you want another drink?”
“Sure, why not?”
Holly charged after Jonathan, who’d taken off like a rocket, leaving the others to their own devices. She had to admit that now that she knew Tara wasn’t interested in Paul, she found the girl very nice and helpful. Tara didn’t mind helping out where she could and had even offered to cook dinner, but Paul had announced that since his parents were returning today, he was sure the staff would too. Which meant that the cook would be arriving shortly to prepare dinner.