Secret Fantasy

by Carly Phillips

  Doug leaned forward until they were inches apart. “But…” He reached for her hand. “You’ve come to mean a lot to me in a very short time. And I enjoyed watching you. And I enjoyed listening to you. Did you know you make these little sounds? Sighs, gasps, moans of pleasure?”

  Her pupils dilated. A flush spread from her neck up her cheeks. Her mouth opened in a small O then closed without making a sound. Heat flooded his system and he broke into a sweat. In reassuring her, he was arousing himself all over again.

  It was probably his punishment and penance. To be so close to the woman he desired and know he had to keep his distance, for her sake as well as his own. Because to make his fantasy come true—to be able to look himself in the mirror and to see he could put a woman, this woman, before himself—he couldn’t go further. Couldn’t sleep with her. Even if doing so would fulfill a fantasy of another kind, his conscience and soul were at risk. And so was his heart.

  But he forced himself to concentrate on her needs. “And those sounds?” He drew both himself and her back to the point at hand.

  “Yes?” The word came out a barely audible gasp.

  “They turn me on.”

  Juliette swallowed hard. He was doing it again, she thought, dazedly. Soothing her. Easing one kind of distress while creating a new one of an entirely different sort. He was so obviously setting out to convince her that her pleasure had been his as well.

  And he was convincing. Enough to relax her and loosen her inhibitions again. To remind her that as much as he needed to prove to himself he was a decent person and could put someone else’s needs first, she’d promised herself something as well—that she’d take this one week to break free and be herself. That she’d experiment, with no constraints, problems or reporters to hinder her inhibitions.

  She’d trusted Doug to give her ultimate pleasure once before. Modesty and shyness wouldn’t help either of them now. “Doug?”

  “Yes?”

  She grasped on to the short length of time they had left on the island—the time they had left together—and marshaled the courage she needed. “Are you still turned on?”

  He sucked in a deep breath of air. The “yes” came out in a drawn-out hiss, one he couldn’t hold back, though he’d obviously tried. She’d take it as an affirmative answer.

  Grasping on to the ends of the white towel, she pulled him close. She inhaled his potent, masculine scent, and her body, already on the edge, reacted. Her nipples tightened and desire coiled deep in her belly—both familiar and welcome reactions to this man.

  Familiar. In a short time he’d become more familiar and endearing than her ex-fiancé ever had been. Why had she been willing to settle for less? “Let me take care of you this time.”

  She spoke the words at the same time she covered his mouth with her own, using the movement of her lips and the vibration of speech to make her point. To arouse him with her words and her touch, just as he’d done to her.

  His hands gripped her shoulders and she felt his indecision in the way he kept the kiss light and his hold on her firm, preventing their bodies from touching intimately. Just because Juliette now knew what caused his hesitation didn’t mean she’d allow him to turn her away. Testing her feminine wiles, testing him, she teased his lips with a light flicker of her tongue.

  She obviously made her point because his heartfelt groan resulted in a change—their kiss became the deepest, sweetest one she’d ever known. Juliette figured she’d made headway. And when he matched her move, dipped into her mouth with his tongue, she stopped thinking at all.

  CHAPTER SIX

  SWEET HEAVEN. And that’s where he was. Losing himself in her warm, wet, willing mouth once more. Warning bells were ringing hard, but he couldn’t bring himself to heed them. Doug didn’t break the kiss as his hands slid from her shoulders and around her back, settling on her waist. Barriers, even silken ones, were no longer acceptable and he lifted the flowing material so he could caress her soft skin.

  She stopped him with a firm grip on his wrists. “Your turn, remember?”

  Her voice broke through the haze of desire, bringing him back to reality. He didn’t want anything from her.

  He swallowed a curse. He might lie to her but he wouldn’t lie to himself. He wanted anything and everything she had to give. He just couldn’t let himself take. “I told you I didn’t expect anything in return.” His voice sounded rough to his own ears.

  “I know that. You gave because you wanted to, even if you were proving a point to yourself. Now I want to give back.” She drew a deep breath, one Doug knew for certain was for courage, and then placed her hand on the front placket of his jeans.

  He gritted his teeth. She must have sensed his aching need because she cupped him more firmly and slid her palm down then up again in an excruciatingly slow but tantalizing movement. Certainty combined with endearing hesitancy showed in her face as she felt, tested and learned his shape and contours. His body came alive beneath her touch and he barely held himself in check.

  “Are you going to deny you like that?” she asked.

  He couldn’t admit or deny. Need and arousal collided inside him, fast and intense. “I think the hard evidence speaks for itself.”

  She laughed, the sound light and easy, despite their serious conversation and the fact that they were both on the edge. But when she reached for the button on his jeans, Doug knew he had to call a stop. Now, before things went too far. But he also knew he’d be hurting her if he turned her away.

  Although he’d explained his fantasy, she was still vulnerable and she’d never completely understand why he stopped so soon. Considering how badly he wanted her, he was having a hard time understanding it himself—and he was in possession of the facts.

  Holding back, not taking what she offered and losing himself inside her willing body—Doug didn’t recognize the man making the sacrifice. He hadn’t done many things in his life to be proud of, Doug thought. Obtaining and printing facts by any means possible, even if they revealed others’ failings, hardly qualified him for sainthood.

  Yet here he was, denying himself what he wanted most, what he wanted even more than the information she possessed, because it was best for Juliette.

  She was new and special and brought something good into his life. In an ironic way, he owed her for that, Doug thought. And this was the only way he could repay her.

  She flipped open the button on his jeans and her fingers grabbed the zipper next. He inhaled, wondering how to stop her.

  “Remember I told you I was engaged?” Her voice and the topic she chose took him by surprise, but he managed a nod.

  “What I didn’t tell you was there were no sparks.” She released his fly and the rasping sound echoed in his ears.

  He clenched his fists at his sides.

  “No excitement.” Her hands went to the waistband on his jeans. “No real desire.”

  She paused—thank God—because he needed to hear everything she said, words as well as inflection, and he couldn’t do that if she was undressing him. And he couldn’t stop her or the topic of conversation would turn and he’d never get this insight into Juliette.

  Insight he wanted for personal, not professional, reasons. No agenda involved. He wanted to hear what she had to say because he needed to know the source of her pain. And he wanted to make it go away. Not because it was his so-called fantasy, but because he was on the verge himself.

  On the verge of falling for her, hard, deep and fast. A first he had no clue how to handle. “I can’t imagine any man not wanting you.” He spoke, Doug realized, with his heart. And that particular organ began to pound harder inside his chest.

  She bit down on her lower lip. “Then don’t imagine it, just trust me. He didn’t want me. And I thought it was my fault,” she said softly. “I’d been through something similar once before and it just reinforced the feelings. A man couldn’t want me, just what I could give him or do for him.”

  Doug’s journalistic instincts kicked in
, telling him he was seconds away from the truth. She could very well admit her secrets, yet the adrenaline flowing through his system had nothing to do with his ultimate goal and everything to do with her distant, hurt expression.

  He touched her cheek. “You have to know I want you.”

  “I do.” A smile lifted her lips and lightened her eyes. An honest, grateful, trusting kind of smile. “And since we’re admitting fantasies, you have to know you’ve been fulfilling mine. And it’s been an incredible gift.”

  “How’s that?”

  “You’ve given me back my faith in myself,” she said simply. Without warning, she refocused on her original task and grabbed onto the waistband of his jeans.

  He had seconds to make a choice. Doug wasn’t an indecisive man. He went after his goals, consequences be damned. Hell, the newspaper article and his busted career were proof of that. But when it came to Juliette Stanton, all his intentions and resolutions to go no further were constantly shot to hell the minute she came within touching distance. Kissing distance. Any distance.

  He grasped her wrists, stilling their determined movements and giving himself something to do with his restless hands—hands that would rather be roaming her supple curves. “If I’ve restored your faith in yourself, does that mean you believe in me?”

  “Of course.”

  That simple, he thought. And that complicated. “And you believe I want you.”

  She nodded. A light blush stained her cheeks as she gestured with a tip of her head. “Hard evidence, like you said.”

  Twining their hands together, he eased himself closer, so he could cradle her in his arms and resist temptation at the same time. “Then can you believe that I want to know you better more than I…” he cleared his throat, “want you to reciprocate. Right now, anyway.”

  “I can believe in you enough to trust what you say.” Juliette rested her head against his chest.

  Closing her eyes, she could see his face behind her shut lids. If she’d thought him handsome earlier this evening, after a run in the rain and her fingers in his hair, he was devastating and her pulse rate increased rapidly.

  “You should. Remember I’m not the one with the fear of storms. If I didn’t want to be here, I could walk out the door.”

  What he said made sense. Of course he could walk away. And unlike the past men in her life he didn’t know who she was, therefore he couldn’t want anything from her except sex or her company. Phrased that way, she ought to be grateful he’d opted to get to know her better first, she realized, and she let herself relax against him, trusting him even more.

  After all, no man had ever shown interest in her. Doug did. And her interest wasn’t just reciprocated, it ran high. But he was holding himself in check and Juliette had no doubt his restraint was related to his fantasy. He wanted to prove he could put a woman’s needs first, before his own. Unfortunately, that put his fantasy at odds with her desire.

  She’d already experienced the luxury of being catered to and doted upon by a very special man. With Doug, she felt desirable and the center of his universe. At times she even forgot the hurt of her broken engagement. And now that Doug had completed her basic fantasy—one she hadn’t known she’d possessed before coming down to this island—she wanted more.

  But first she had to prove to him they could share more intimacy and make love without one or the other of them being used for selfish gain.

  He said he wanted to get to know her better. It was a start toward her goal and she had no problem complying. “So what is it you want to know about me?”

  “How about we begin with your fear of storms.”

  She curled into his waiting strength. His arms cocooned her in safety and heat but she couldn’t ignore the tingling awareness rioting through her. “Dad built us a tree house when we were eight. It was so cool and Gillian and I spent so much time there. Too much time, so Mom and Dad had to restrict the hours. But we were kids, you know? We just had to play there no matter what.”

  “And here I thought you were the perfect child.”

  She shook her head. “Gillian was the wild child, which made me the more perfect daughter, but that came later, as I got older. At eight I just wanted to have fun.”

  “Nothing wrong with having fun.” He rested his chin on her head and Juliette sighed.

  The comfort and ease of the situation wasn’t lost on her. Not only did he understand, he was interested. He cared. “I liked fun too. We were playing at Stuart’s house…”

  “Stuart?” he asked.

  “My…neighbor. Fiancé,” she admitted, not wanting to bring the word into her private time with Doug but wanting honesty between them just the same. He let out a low growl but before he could question her about Stuart the man, she continued her childhood story. “And it was getting late. When it started to drizzle, his parents sent us home.”

  Doug groaned. “Let me guess. You detoured.”

  “Right. And then it started to pour.”

  “Aha.” His drawn-out word rumbled deep in his chest.

  “Exactly. By the time Gillian and I heard the rain, it was so late we were afraid to go back. At eight years old, punishment is scary. We spent too long arguing over what to do and, before you know it, thunder, lightning and major windswept rain was coming down. We were soaked, scared and wanted to go home.” She shook her head, remembering. “Dad found us first.”

  “Of course he did. You guys were in the most obvious place to look.”

  She laughed. “I said we were eight years old. I didn’t say we were smart. But he found us after lightning hit a branch on a neighboring tree. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared. I was holding on to Gillian and crying, while she was having the adventure of a lifetime.” She shrugged. “And that’s why I’m afraid of storms. I guess I should have known then I wasn’t cut out for too much excitement.”

  “Oh, I think you handle excitement extremely well.”

  There was that deep rumble again, Juliette thought. The sexy sound that reverberated inside her, turning her inside out and making her want him even more than she already did. “Depends on who’s sharing the excitement with me.”

  “Right now that would be me.”

  She rested her head against his shoulder. “You won’t get any argument from me.” She stretched her feet out on the couch and he followed suit. Though cramped, she’d never felt more at ease.

  Perhaps because he’d freed them from jumping into anything immediately sexual, he’d taken the pressure off. Thanks to Stuart, she possessed this driving need to entice a man and prove he could be interested. Thanks to Doug there wasn’t another man who interested her except for him. He’d just shown her a nonphysical but still intimate way of expressing that interest. And she was grateful. Enough to let herself go and relax in his arms, the rain outside distant and so far away.

  SHE WAS BEING shifted, lifted and carried. She hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep but Juliette awoke with a start to find herself held in Doug’s arms. “What are you doing?”

  “Moving before I wake up permanently twisted like a pretzel.”

  She laughed. “You could have just woken me.”

  “And miss the opportunity to hold you in my arms? Not a chance.”

  He carried her into the bedroom and deposited her on the bed, going so far as to pull down the covers and tuck her in, then lower himself onto the mattress beside her. Such a parental gesture, yet there was nothing familial about the heat in Doug’s eyes or the sizzling awareness he ignited inside her. Her pulse rate kicked into overtime as she waited for whatever he had to say.

  He picked up a lock of her hair, twisting a long strand around his fingertip, seemingly distracted, but Juliette knew better. He was savoring every touch, every feel, just as she did whenever he was near. She curled into the downy softness of the pillows beneath her.

  “Rain’s stopped,” he murmured.

  “You’re leaving.” Unexpected, unreasonable disappointment filled her.


  “I don’t have a choice.” His gaze fell from her face to the low neckline on her shirt. His fingers followed the movement, tracing the straight edging from her collarbone downward, brushing her chest and lingering in the deep vee nestled between her breasts.

  His tanned skin contrasted with her paler flesh and though his touch was gentle, his intent was sexual. And Juliette experienced an instant flare of heat. Suddenly the silk top, which had been so soft seconds earlier, rasped against her hardened nipples. Nothing would ease the tension inside her except his touch, and from the determined look in his eyes, that wouldn’t be happening now.

  Let loose. Be yourself. What other way to break past his stubborn convictions? “Of course you have a choice. You can stay.”

  His jaw clenched tight. “Not yet.”

  She wanted to question him further, find out what kind of hurt he believed he’d inflicted in the past or why he felt the need to atone now. “Why…”

  Before she could finish, he dipped his head and lowered his lips to hers for another one of his long, drugging kisses. The kind that sapped her energy and stopped all rational thought. And the kind that told her whatever reason he wasn’t staying the night had nothing to do with his feelings for her.

  While he worked magic with his mouth, his fingertips eased inside her shirt and though he encountered the barrier of her flimsy bra, he wasn’t deterred. With a light touch, he held her nipple between two fingers, rolling and flicking with enough pressure to first ease the ache and then increase it.

  She raised her arms, seeking to touch him, too, but he gripped her hands and held them against the mattress, keeping himself in charge. And her at his mercy. She sighed into him, letting him know with her mouth, the only way she could, how much she enjoyed his ministrations and how badly she wanted more.

  “I don’t want to go.” He leaned his forehead against hers.

  His admission sent talons of hope soaring through her veins. “Then don’t.”

  “You’ve been hurt recently.”

  She stiffened at the reminder. “I never said that.”