by Miranda Lee
Diving under the breaking waves, she quickly reached her objective where she was able to float quite successfully. With her hands behind her head, she stared up at the star-studded night sky and tried to work out which ones formed the Southern Cross. She thought she’d found it several times.
Time drifted. And so did she. Zoe didn’t realize ‘til she decided to swim back in just how far out she was. It gave her a fright, as did the current her feet encountered when she tried to tread water. It was strong and pulling her, not toward the beach, but toward the bluff stretching out into the ocean, where rolling waves were crashing against the jagged black rocks.
Zoe struck out for the shore with slightly panicky strokes, but made little headway against the strength of the rip. When she stopped swimming, it dragged her sideward and backward. Toward the rocks.
Searching the ocean, Zoe couldn’t see another single soul. Even the moonlit beach looked deserted. Everyone had gone home. Or gone out. There weren’t any lights on in any of the weekenders, except Nigel’s and Aiden’s.
Would he hear her if she cried out? His house seemed so far away. She didn’t want to die.
Damn it, she wasn’t going to die!
Zoe started screaming for help and swimming at the same time, kicking like mad.
AIDEN WAS SITTING UP in an armchair by the window, trying to read, when he thought he heard a faint cry.
His head jerked up from the book, his ears instantly on alert. A gull? The wind perhaps?
The cry came again. Then again. And again.
Aiden was on his feet and running.
Not a bird. A woman. And she was in trouble.
He burst out of his front door, leaped down the three front steps and sprinted across the beach, scanning the ocean as he went. He spotted her about fifty feet out, right down the end where the rocks were.
It was Zoe. He just knew it was Zoe.
Aiden didn’t stop to speculate on what she was doing out there at this time of night. He whirled and raced back to pick up his board which was thankfully leaning against the front porch. Adrenaline had him covering the sand back to the water’s edge in no time. He ran through the shallows, threw the board across the first wave, dived facedown onto it and paddled like crazy.
If he’d been in one of those lifeguard rescue races, he’d have won hands down, so fast did he cover the distance from the water’s edge to where Zoe was valiantly swimming and getting nowhere fast. Once drawn alongside her, he sat up, reached over to grip her under the arms then hauled her up across the board in front of him.
Their eyes connected for a second, hers still wide with fear, his appalled at what might have happened if he hadn’t heard her cry out.
“What were you doing,” he snapped, “swimming so far out at this time of night? You could have got a cramp and drowned, or been taken by a shark, or smashed against the rocks. You have a death wish or something?”
His own eyes widened with this last accusation. “Hey, that wasn’t the idea, was it?” he threw at her. “You weren’t trying to kill yourself, were you?”
Zoe didn’t have the strength to defend herself verbally, but her face must have told him the truth.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I should have known you weren’t the suicidal type. Not much of a rescuer, am I, bawling you out like that. I guess you were just hot and went for a swim, then got caught in the tide. I should have thought to warn you about the tide here this morning, but you made me so mad I just didn’t think.”
“Same here,” she choked out.
Suddenly, she began to shiver violently.
Aiden swore, but Zoe knew it wasn’t at her.
His hands were gentle as they shifted her ‘round ‘til she was lying lengthwise on the front of the board, her back leaning up against his chest. His bare chest, she noticed, despite everything.
Did he spend his whole life half naked?
Another shiver ran down her spine. A different sort of shiver.
“Don’t worry,” he said softly, rubbing her goose-bumped arms up and down. “You’re in shock. You’ll be right once I get you home and into a hot shower.”
Zoe tried to protest when they reached the shore and Aiden swept her up off the board into his arms. But he silenced her with a look, and a sharp, “Don’t you think you’ve been silly enough for one night?”
She closed her eyes and sagged against him.
“That’s better,” he said, satisfaction in his voice.
Zoe groaned silently, any physical exhaustion she’d been feeling swiftly overridden by the much more powerful feelings she’d been trying to fight all weekend.
Lust, hot and strong, flooded every pore of her flesh, heating her from the inside out, bringing with it an exquisitely tortuous awareness of Aiden’s body. Her eyes being shut only intensified the experience. She wallowed in the strength of the arms carrying her; the warm wet wall of chest pressing against the side of her breast; his thighs slapping against her bottom as he strode across the sand.
He was taking her to his place, she knew. Into a hot shower, he’d said.
Oh, God…
The sensible part of Zoe’s brain warned her not to let him take her into the setting of one of her wildest fantasies about him. But she was too far gone for common sense, or willpower, or any high moral ground.
She felt weak with desire, driven by cravings so strong they amazed her. She wasn’t used to wanting a man this much. She’d never wanted Drake like this. Lust, she decided despairingly, was nothing at all like love.
Lust focused on one thing and one thing only.
The physical.
She tensed when she felt him mounting some steps, keeping her eyes tightly shut whilst he opened his front door then carried her through, angling her body so that her feet didn’t hit anything.
Zoe’s heart began to pound.
It was warm inside, but not unbearably so.
He crossed a short distance, then lowered her down onto something soft and squishy. A couch by the feel of it. Leather.
She opened her eyes, then wished she hadn’t. For he was looming over her in just the way she’d once imagined.
“Glad to see you’re still alive,” he said. “I was just about to do mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.”
The thought of his mouth on hers banished what little was left of her scruples and she looked deep into his eyes, unable to hide her feelings for him any longer.
Not wanting to.
“I’d have liked that,” she whispered, and a ripple of exquisite excitement ricocheted down her spine.
He was taken aback. No doubt about that.
But only for a second or two.
His eyes darkened with a desire of his own as he stared down at her mouth. He sat down on the edge of the couch and reached to lift some wet strands of hair away off her face. Her lips puffed apart with a soft gasp.
He didn’t say a word, for which she was glad. Words would have shattered the dizzying sense of anticipation which was twisting her stomach into knots. His hands curled over her shoulders and his mouth started to descend. Zoe’s heart thudded wildly.
But his head didn’t come all the way down. His grip tightened on her shoulders and he drew her up toward him…slowly…then swiftly, their mouths colliding.
Zoe’s valiantly suppressed passion for him was unleashed with a rush, her arms wrapping tightly ‘round his torso, her mouth as hungry as his. He groaned then pushed her back down onto the couch where he kissed her ‘til she thought she might die from lack of air.
He finally stopped, his breathing ragged as he sat back up abruptly, his gaze sweeping down over her own rapidly panting chest. “Let’s get this off,” he said, and swiftly peeled the almost-dry swimsuit from her fired-up flesh, tossing it carelessly aside.
A stunned Zoe watched it land across a black lacquered cabinet which held a big black stereo. With a single wide-eyed glance, she registered the rest of the room, which was almost as colorful as the outside of the house. Lemon wall
s. White woodwork. Terra-cotta ceiling.
The furniture was eclectic. A mixture of old and new. Glass-topped, wood-based and wrought-iron pieces sat side by side. The soft furnishings were just as varied, the colors bold. The drapes were black silk and the leather couch she was lying on was a deep burnt orange.
“That’s better.”
Aiden’s speaking again brought her back to the reality of her lying stark naked in front of him, in quite bright light. Yet oddly, she wasn’t besieged by concerns over her body shape or grooming, as she was when she was with Drake. It didn’t seem to matter that she had no makeup on, or her hair was sticky with saltwater and hanging down in rattails. If the look in Aiden’s eyes was anything to go by, he still liked what he saw.
And she liked what she saw. She couldn’t wait for Aiden to strip off as well and for her to see if all her fantasies about his body were true.
She swallowed at the thought.
But he didn’t undress. He pushed her left leg off the couch and sat down where it had been lying, leaning forward over her body, his hands skimming over the surface of her rapidly heating skin, grazing up over the tips of her breasts.
Zoe gasped, then groaned with disappointment when his hands moved on over her collarbones and up her throat to her face. Holding the sides of her head, he bent down ‘til their mouths were almost touching, but not quite. His tongue darted out to lick at her parched lips, working its way right around them. It wasn’t ‘til he stopped that Zoe realized she’d been holding her breath, not knowing what to do, or what to expect.
Drake had never kissed her like this before, if you could call what Aiden had just done, kissing.
“Give me your tongue,” he ordered thickly.
She hesitated a fraction before sliding it slowly out between her tingling lips. She quivered when he touched the tip with his own tongue tip, then shuddered when he sucked on it.
He let it go, his head lifting slightly, his eyes frowning down at her.
She blinked up at him, her own head spinning.
“What?” she said, finding it hard to think clearly.
“Don’t you like that?”
“I…I’m not sure,” she admitted. “But don’t stop.”
He laughed a low, deliciously sexy laugh. “No fear of that, honey. I’ve been wanting to make love to you since you smiled at me yesterday. I’ve thought of nothing else but you all day.”
“I…I’ve been thinking of you, too,” she confessed.
“That’s gratifying to hear. I was beginning to think I’d lost my touch. But let’s not talk. We can talk later. We can talk tomorrow.” His head descended again and he kissed her for real, deep, drugging kisses which had the blood pounding in her temples and her body racing like a Formula One Ferrari on the starting blocks.
She moaned when his mouth abandoned her, then moaned again when he rubbed his stubbly chin over her breasts. Her rock-hard nipples felt like they were on fire. He licked one, then sucked on it as he had in her dream.
An electric charge zigzagged down through her stomach, centering between her thighs. She cried out and her back arched away from the couch, her hands somehow finding his hair. He stopped momentarily to lift her hands up above her head, out of the way, and they flopped back over the wide leather arm of the couch. His lips returned to take possession of her other breast, his right hand squeezing it at the same time, pushing the whole areola and nipple deeper into his mouth. When Zoe’s back went to arch again, Aiden’s other hand splayed across her tautly held stomach, his large palm pressing her back down against the leather, keeping her spine still, keeping her still whilst he continued his erotic feasting on her breasts.
The effect was incredible, her mind as turned on as her body. She writhed against those captive hands, crying out with the heady mixture of pleasure, and yes, pain. For every now and then he would nip at a nipple with his teeth, then tug on it. Zoe would suck in sharply with relief once he released the pained peak, only to perversely want him to do it again almost straight away. She swiftly became addicted to the tortuously erotic experience, never wanting him to stop.
But he did stop, and the hand on her belly moved down into the damp curls which guarded the most intimate parts of her body. His mouth followed, licking at her navel whilst those knowing fingers parted, probed and penetrated. She gasped, then gritted her teeth. He was touching her in even more ways than he had in her dream, knowing exactly where and how to give her the most exquisite yet almost mind-bending pleasure. She couldn’t think. She could only feel, and crave more.
“Please,” she begged, her head thrashing from side to side. “Oh, please…”
He responded by flipping her right leg over his shoulder and putting his mouth where his hand had been. When she jackknifed, he gripped her bottom, lifting it, and her hips, away from the leather, giving him better access and stopping any further movement from her. Oh…!
Drake had never done this to her. Never. She hadn’t wanted him to. The thought had repulsed her. Aiden had done it briefly to her in her dream and she hadn’t been repulsed then, but that had been fantasy. This was real!
Yet there was no embarrassment, only the most intense pleasure. And the most urgent need.
Yes, yes, she craved. There! There!
His tongue flicked over her swollen clitoris and she almost screamed. Another flick. Then another. She clenched her teeth harder in her jaw. She was going to come. She was sure of it. He only had to touch it with his tongue again.
He didn’t touch it with his tongue again. Instead, his lips closed over the burning bursting nub of flesh and he sucked on it. Hard.
She screamed, then splintered apart, coming as she had never come before. Her back arched. Her mouth gaped wide. Her head exploded with a thousand stars. Brilliant and blinding. The spasms went on and on and on, wave after wave, ‘til at last, it was over.
Aiden’s head lifted, his expression both smug and slightly sheepish.
“I’ll have to leave you to go to the bathroom for a minute or two. Your…um…enthusiasm…tipped me over the edge as well. Which is not such a tragedy, under the circumstances. Next time, we can enjoy the real thing together, and for much longer than I was anticipating. Don’t go away now,” he added, giving her bottom an affectionate smack before lifting her leg off his shoulder and placing it gently back down on the couch.
Zoe lay there, dazed, her other leg still dangling over the side of the sofa. She didn’t have the strength to drag it up into a more modest position. Her arms were still flopped over her head and she felt…wonderful. She knew she should get up, make some excuse and leave. But she didn’t have the willpower, or the desire. The next time, he’d said. Had he meant tomorrow, or later tonight, after he’d rested awhile? Zoe knew that a man needed some time before he could make love again.
She winced at using that expression, for what Aiden had just done to her had nothing to do with love. It was just sex to him, the same kind of just sex sex Drake had had with that blonde. Yet despite knowing that, Zoe had enjoyed it far more than any lovemaking of Drake’s.
This realization brought a degree of bewilderment. She’d always believed love made sex better. Certainly sex with Drake had been better than sex with Greg. That experience had been gross!
But this…this was something else yet again…
The bathroom door opened and Aiden walked back into the room, scattering all Zoe’s attempts to make sense of this situation.
He was naked. And still stunningly erect.
Zoe couldn’t help staring at him. Her fantasies had underestimated things a tad. “I thought you’d said that you’d…um…” Her voice trailed off as he approached her.
“I did,” he agreed smilingly. “Just shows you what happens when you haven’t had sex for a long while. Time to adjourn to my boudoir, I think,” he said, and bent to scoop her back up into his arms.
He carried her over to another door, holding her easily with one arm whilst he opened it and flicked on the overhead li
ght. It lit up a roomy bedroom with polished floorboards, royal-blue walls and ceiling, colorful Indian rugs and a huge brass bed that was startlingly similar to the one in her dream.
She stared at the four solid brass posts stationed at each corner and tried not to picture herself spreadeagled on top of the prettily embroidered white bedspread which looked perversely virginal.
Zoe didn’t think there’d been too many virgins gracing this bed, no matter what Aiden said about not having sex for a long time. He probably thought a week was a long time.
“Don’t say a word about the bedspread,” he advised on seeing the expression and direction of her eyes. “My mother made it for me and I like it.” With that, he threw back the spread with one hand, revealing blue sheets.
She blinked up at him. “Your mother?”
“Everyone has one,” he returned dryly, and lowered her into the middle of the mattress. “But we’re not going to chitchat about family tonight. Or boyfriends, or being free, or any other emotional baggage. We’re going to just enjoy each other, right?”
“Right,” she choked out, trying not to stare at the part of him she was hoping to enjoy most.
He pulled open the bedside drawer and extracted a box of condoms. Stripping off the cellophane wrapping, he flipped open the lid, and tipped it upside down, at least seven or eight small packets spilling out.
“Don’t let me forget to use them,” he told her as he climbed back onto the bed and drew her into his arms. “You’ve got me into such a state, it’s the sort of stupid thing I might do.”
He didn’t forget. And neither did Zoe.
But she forgot everything else. Drake. Her conscience. Her common sense. And every inhibition she thought she had.
They were to return later, along with the shock and the shame of it all. She was no better than Drake. Worse, even.
Zoe was infinitely grateful that Aiden was asleep when she crept out of his house just before the dawn.