Just for Now: Escape to New Zealand Book Three

by Rosalind James

  “Done,” the other man promised. “Best of luck, mate.”

  That was Step One sorted. As long as he was the one dancing with Jenna while those songs were playing, instead of that bloke who was perving at her now. The song ended, but Jenna’s partner showed no sign of releasing her, and the slow notes of a saxophone were coming over the speakers. His song. His dance.

  He moved up behind the other man, tapped him on the shoulder. The young man’s protest died on his lips as he turned and looked up into Finn’s face, set into its best Hard Man glare.

  “Time for you to find another partner,” Finn told him. “This one’s mine.”

  “Right. Sorry.” The man released Jenna without saying goodbye and hastened back to his table.

  “Hey!” Jenna protested. “I was dancing with that guy. And he was nice. What was that all about?”

  Finn stepped up, took her in his arms. “What I said. My turn now.”

  She looked at him suspiciously even as she began to move with him, swaying to the slow, insistent beat. “Did you come over here to tell me I was doing something wrong? I know I’ve been dancing a lot, but everyone’s been so great about asking me, and I’m not working now.”

  “Yeh. I’ve noticed how they’ve been asking you. Because you look beautiful.” He couldn’t resist a peek down the front of her dress himself. He wasn’t surprised that fella had been so mesmerized. It was quite a sight from above, the swell of her breasts just visible above the neckline, and that enticing shadow in the middle. A man could put his hand right down that, get lost there.

  “Really? You think that’s why?” She sounded so pleased, he couldn’t help but smile. “Your sister helped me pick out this dress. Do you like it?”

  “I like it so much,” he assured her. “But it’s not the dress. It’s you in the dress. You’re gorgeous.”

  “We’re getting inappropriate again,” she warned him. “Do you think this is a good idea? Dancing?”

  “I’m past caring,” he admitted. “I’m beginning to think it’s inevitable. Feels like a freight train coming down the track. And like I’m standing in front of it, just waiting to be hit. Maybe, just for tonight, we could forget about everything else. About the kids, and all the complications of it. Pretend we’ve just met.”

  “Dangerous,” she cautioned, looking up at him.

  “Like I said. That freight train. My name’s Finn Douglas, and I’ve been watching you all night. Because you’re beautiful.”

  Those full pink lips stretched into her generous smile, and he felt his heart rate kick up a notch. “Jenna McKnight. I’m glad to meet you. Because you’re quite something yourself.”

  He felt her move a little further into his arms as the music shifted to a smooth, romantic Michael Bublé song. Her hand felt right in his, her body warm as he pulled her against him, moved her around the floor. He sensed the moment when she melted against him, her head coming to rest against his chest. Felt her snuggle in closer, run her hand over his shoulder.

  Norah Jones over the speakers next, her smoky voice crooning as the two of them danced, barely swaying together now.

  “I like this music,” Jenna sighed against him, and Finn smiled a bit above her head. As the song ended, he let go of her hand, raised his own to stroke her cheek. He heard the opening strains of Unchained Melody, but he wasn’t waiting for the fourth song. He didn’t think he could. But he couldn’t kiss her here, either. And he needed to kiss her, so badly now.

  “Come on,” he urged. “Let’s take a walk.” He took her hand and moved to the door, then into the wide hallway.

  Jenna went with him willingly. This wasn’t a good idea, but she didn’t care anymore. She hadn’t drunk enough tonight to blame it on the wine. It was Finn. She’d been thinking about touching him again ever since that night in the hotel. Thinking about the way he had touched her, how he had kissed her. She needed him to kiss her like that again.

  He was trying doors now, moving faster. “Finn,” she protested as she stumbled, her heels sinking into the carpet. “Slow down. Please.”

  He looked down at her in surprise. “High heels,” she explained. “I can’t walk this fast.”

  He exhaled in relief. “Thought you were saying something else.” He tried the next door, felt the handle shift. He looked inside, shot a quick glance at the hallway behind them and pulled her through the doorway.

  “Where are we?” she asked.

  He reached for her, the darkness complete around them. “Storeroom,” he got out. Then his mouth was on hers, his arms around her. She felt him walking her backwards, up against the door they had come in. His mouth insistent now, greedy and feverish on hers, his hands pulling her to him. She felt the length of him hard against her, and a thrill shot all the way through her body.

  One hand continued to hold her to him while the other moved to a breast. “Aw, Jenna,” he groaned into her mouth. “I’ve wanted to touch you here all night.”

  She felt his mouth on her neck, his lips and teeth moving against her skin, and shivered with it. Then the shock as his hand slipped inside the neckline of her dress, cupped her warm flesh, held her there. She moaned as his hand moved over her, felt the sensation going straight to her center.

  His big body pressed her back against the door, and he shifted the other hand from behind her, lifted the edge of her skirt to grip a thigh. His hand moving upward then, the size and heat of it. She was kissing him back hard now, clutching at his shoulders, lost in his hands, his mouth on her. Then a new sensation, the shock as the hand on her leg found bare skin. And stopped there.

  He broke the kiss, kept his hold on her, his thumb above the lace top of the stocking, warm against her inner thigh. She could hear his labored breathing, and her own, in the darkness.

  “Jenna.” His voice was strained. “Are you wearing stockings?”

  She felt herself blushing. “Yes.”

  He groaned. “I need to see you. And we can’t do this here. But I’m in a room with the kids.”

  “And I’m in one with your sister,” she reminded him.

  “Right. Getting a room.” And a condom, he realized. “Wait here for me.” He pulled his hands away reluctantly. Then leaned against the wall next to her. “Give me a moment.”

  “Are you all right?” she asked tentatively.

  He laughed a little. “Burning up for you. Only so much a dinner jacket can conceal. Saying my twelve times tables here.”

  “Right,” he said after a minute. He lifted her gently away from the door. “Stay here. Back in a few minutes.” He gave her a kiss that was meant to be brief, lingered there as her mouth opened under his. Broke it off at last. “Wait for me.”

  Alone in the dark, Jenna wrapped her arms around herself, reality slowly returning like a cold spigot running into a warm bathtub. What was she doing? This was a really, really bad idea. Never mind the future. Tonight was frightening enough.

  She had worked herself into full anxiety by the time Finn gave a quiet knock and slipped through the door again.

  “Jenna?” he called softly. “Still in here?”

  “Yes,” she said tentatively, moved towards him in the darkness. “But . . . are you sure?”

  He reached for her, pulled her into him. “I’m so sure. I need to do this. But if you don’t . . . you can say no. Praying you won’t, though.” He found her mouth, kissed her again. “What do you think?”

  “I want to,” she said honestly. “But . . . what I told you. I’m not good at this. What if you’re disappointed?”

  “Do you want me?” he demanded.

  “Yes,” she admitted. “So much.”

  He exhaled in relief. “Then here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to take you upstairs. I’m going to get you naked, and then I’m going to put you on your back and do some things to you that I’ve been thinking about for a long, long time. Trust me, I’m not going to be disappointed. I’m going to be feeling like the luckiest man in the world.”

  Cha
pter 20

  Finn opened the door with the keycard, allowed Jenna to precede him into the room. He’d kept her hands off her during the walk to the lift, the ride up with a family whose young son had been awestruck at the bit of chat he’d offered. But now he had her here, and he was done. He bent down to pull off his shoes and socks. Saw her beginning to kick off her own high heels.

  “No,” he said sharply. “No,” he added more gently. “Please. Leave them on for me.”

  He saw her uncertainty. “Jenna. Come here.” He folded her in his arms, gave her a long, slow kiss. “I’m going to tell you what to do. And I’m going to find out what you like. It’s all good. No worries.”

  “You’ll tell me?” she asked, looking up at him. “Because I want to please you.”

  He took his arms from around her to pull off his dinner jacket and throw it across a chair. “You please me so much. Just looking at you is pleasing me. But if you want to help, why don’t you unfasten this tie?”

  She stepped in close, untied the bow tie from around his neck, and he saw her breath coming faster at the contact.

  “Could you take these cufflinks off for me too?” He lifted his wrists and watched as she carefully removed the black onyx links and set them on the desk. “And can you do the shirt studs as well? They’re a bit fiddly.”

  His shirt fell further open with every black ornament she removed and placed on the desk with the cufflinks, and her hands slowed.

  “I want to touch you.” She looked up at him. “While I do this.”

  He smiled. “Funny. That’s what I was just going to suggest.” He took a breath as she set her palms on his chest, moved them over him slowly. She removed another stud, ran her hands down his abdomen. Slid her arms around him beneath the shirt, reached up to kiss the spot above his collarbone, then the place where his neck met his shoulder.

  “You’re so strong,” she breathed against his skin. “I love how big you are. How you feel.”

  He bent to kiss her again as her hands continued to move on his back. “Better take care of the rest of those,” he told her. “Touch me a bit more while you’re there, too.”

  She pulled out the last stud. Looked up at him questioningly as she pulled the shirttail from his black trousers. “Can I take it off?”

  “Hoping you will.” His breath was coming faster now.

  She pulled the white shirt from his shoulders, set it on the chair next to the jacket. Turned back to look at him, explore him with her hands again. The big shoulders and broad chest, his forearms with their shifting ropes of muscle. His defined abdomen, and the trail of hair that ran from his navel, dipped into his waistband.

  He closed his hands over hers as they moved to the button of his black trousers. “I’m taking that dress off first,” he told her. “I need to see you.”

  She reached for her belt, but he brushed her hands aside again. “Oh, no. I’m doing this. Been planning it all night.” He unfastened the wide belt, set it aside. Then reached around to pull down the long zipper that ran the length of her back. The sleeveless dress gapped as he did, revealing more of her breasts, the top of her bra. Black, he realized, his pulse giving another kick. He pulled the dress up over her head, dropped it on the chair. Stood back, and just looked.

  Auburn waves fell over her white shoulders. A black lace demibra left the upper curves of her full breasts exposed, and matching black lace bikini panties began at the wide curve of her hips, dipped in a V that pointed where he wanted to go. But that wasn’t all. He’d felt the top of a stocking as he’d kissed her in the dark. That hadn’t prepared him for the sight of the wide band of black lace encircling each white thigh, changing beneath to sheer black nylon that ended in the high heels.

  “Shit,” he breathed.

  “Is it all right?” she asked him tentatively. “Too much?”

  “Oh, yeh,” he groaned. “Too much.” He pulled her to him, began to kiss her as he covered a breast with one hand, brought her hips against him with the other. Dove beneath the waistband of the lace panties, rubbed his hand over her backside. Felt her response, her hips rocking into him, her mouth opening wider under his own as his hands moved on her. Her own hands sliding over his shoulders, his back, coming down to his waist now. Then she was stepping back, reaching for his button again. Unzipping him, pulling his pants down his legs.

  “Condom in my pocket,” he muttered. Grabbed for it. Then hesitated, not sure what to do with it.

  Jenna took it from him, tucked it into the front of her bra. “Ladies’ pocket,” she smiled.

  He watched her face grow serious again as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his boxer briefs. “I want to take these off,” she told him. “I need to see you too. All of you.”

  He nodded, dry-mouthed, as she pulled them down. He stepped out of them and his pants, kicked them aside, and reached for her again.

  “Oh.” She reached out to hold him. “So much here too.” She ran her hand over him, and he closed his eyes. Then opened them again. Because the sight of her, dressed like that, doing that, was something he didn’t want to miss.

  “Time for you to lie down for me.” He walked her backward until her thighs hit the bed behind them. Came down with her onto it, reached down to pull off first one black high heel, then the other. Moved over her again, kissing her harder now, a hand going to her breast, thumb tracing the edge of the lace. Down to kiss her neck, her throat. And then the flesh rising above that lace bra. Dipping into the space between her breasts, that shadow she’d been showing all night. All his now. He pulled the condom packet out, set it aside. Then reached around at last, unfastened the bra and pulled it off, exposed her to his gaze.

  She moved her hands towards her breasts to cover them, uncomfortable with his silence. “Big.”

  He pulled her hands away. “Perfect.”

  His hand closed over one breast, stroking and teasing, while his mouth moved on the other, found the nipple and took it between his teeth, and the shock of it went through her, straight to her core. Her breath was coming fast now, and a moan escaped her at the feeling of his mouth and hands on her. She felt her thighs falling open, the electric moment when his hand moved down from a breast to cover her. His hands moving to pull the lace panties off.

  Then he wasn’t touching her anymore. He was sitting up and staring down at her as she lay on the white duvet cover, wearing only the black stockings.

  “Bloody hell,” he said, breathing hard now too. “You’re like Disneyland. Everything I like best, all there for me. And I want to go on every ride.”

  He ran a hand from her breast down her stomach, then lower. Looked into her eyes as he began to stroke her, saw her eyes lose their focus as he continued to touch her. “You’re so gorgeous. All I want to do is play here all night. Do everything to you.”

  “Finn,” she breathed. “Please. Please.” Her hips moved towards him, her entire body enticing him. He kissed her breasts again, moved lower. Looked at her legs in those stockings, falling open now. Pulled a pillow from the head of the bed and shoved it under her hips, then put a hand on each thigh and opened her to him.

  “Wait,” she gasped as he began to kiss her. “No. Don’t.” She tried to close her thighs, struggled against him.

  He looked up. “What’s wrong?”

  “You don’t . . . you can’t want to do that.” She was blushing furiously now, the color staining her chest and her face as she struggled onto her elbows.

  He came up to hold her, kiss her mouth again. “Jenna. I want to do that so much. You’re gorgeous, and I want to kiss you, and please you.”

  “You do?”

  “Trust me. If you don’t like it, I’ll stop. I promise.” His mouth went to her breast again, his hand stroking her, and her breath hitched. “Now lie back and let me love you.”

  He could tell that she still felt shy, at first. And he could sense the moment when the feelings became too much for her, the pleasure too intense. When she forgot to be shy and was rising
into him, calling out now, hands clutching his hair as he took her higher, then higher still. When she felt her entire being centered there, where he was touching her, kissing her. He drove her up until she shattered with a long cry, her back arching as she rose into his mouth again and again.

  She was still trembling with the aftershocks as he grabbed for the condom packet. Her hands went to the stockings. “I should . . .”

  “Oh, no.” His hands closed over hers, stilled them. “We’re not taking those off. Ever since I saw them, I’ve been wanting to feel them against me.” Still holding her hands, he moved over her, looked down to watch as he slid inside, then up again to see her eyes glaze as he filled her. The heat of it, the sight of her mouth opening, her breath coming hard now. Her hands still in his, her hips rising to meet him. He kept it slow, a smooth rock, watched her, listened to her responding to him.

  “Wrap your legs around me,” he told her at last. He felt the lace tops of her stockings against his back, and his pleasure ratcheted up another notch as the ride continued, higher and higher now.

  “Harder. Please. Finn. Do it harder. Do that to me.” She was crying out at every stroke, moving against him, and he was lost, no control now, taking all of her. He felt her convulsing around him again, the contractions pulling at him. The sensation was too much, and he felt himself going up and over, calling out hoarsely as he emptied into her.

  He rolled to his back, pulled her on top of him, both of them fighting for breath. “Worth waiting for,” he told her at last. “My God. So worth waiting for.”

  She buried her face in his neck as his hand moved over her, stroking her. “Me too. I never knew it could feel that way. That was . . . it was amazing. Thank you.”

  He smiled lazily. “My pleasure. As you’re a bit amazing yourself. Happy to help you out that way anytime.”

  “We need to get back,” she told him reluctantly. “We’ve been gone so long.”

  “Mmm.” He ran his hand over her hair. “And we can’t slip out tonight. Pity. What do you think about coming back to the house with me tomorrow, staying with me there for the week? We’re going to have to do this a fair few times to get through everything I’ve thought of. Unless you had plans you don’t want to change.”