A Sip of You (The Epicurean Series)

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A Sip of You (The Epicurean Series) Page 8

by Grace, Sorcha


  Someone in his household knew what we’d been up to, and I wasn’t exactly looking forward to running into whoever that was this morning. But my stomach was rumbling and I had to eat.

  I found Fernanda in the kitchen and she gave me a warm smile and asked if I would like breakfast. She looked me right in the eyes without the tiniest bit of judgment in her gaze, so I guessed she wasn’t the midnight cleaning crew. I decided on a latte and a fruit and yogurt plate, and she brought it out to me by the pool.

  The morning was cool, so I’d slipped on a pair of skinny jeans in royal blue and an oversized grey sweater, both unearthed in the massive closet William had filled for me. The pool came equipped with a decorative fountain, and I planted myself on one of the plush lounge chairs, leaned my head back, and listened to the running water. I closed my eyes. I missed William already and wondered where he was now. Doing something he didn’t need me for, I guessed.

  Business? He didn’t need me for that. Dealing with the latest Wyatt to appear? I thought he’d needed me to cope with that situation, but apparently not. Sex? Maybe that was the real reason he needed me on this trip. I actually hadn’t thought of that until this instant. Maybe the whole reason he brought me here was so I could be available to fuck him, at his convenience, after his important meetings. Maybe his plan was to tie me to his bed every night and make me come so many times that I lost all will to fight and became his sex slave.

  Ok, as good as some of that sounded, it was also total crap. I knew I was more to him than just a sex toy and what was between us was way more than just sex. I loved William, and I knew he cared about me too. Of course I still hadn’t told him how I felt. I’d felt so close to him when he told me about his family after dinner, but then he clammed up, and before I knew it, I was chained up, blindfolded, and at his mercy. That hadn’t been the perfect time to declare my love. I knew that and I hated that his absence was stirring up all of my insecurities.

  “Give it a rest, Cat,” I muttered under my breath. Annoyed with myself, I paced around the pool in an effort to clear my head. Finally, I gave up and texted Beckett.

  How was the party?

  A few minutes later my phone pinged. Fabulous. How was the sex?

  I sputtered a laugh. What sex?

  Ha-ha. Spill.

  I thought for a minute about how to describe last night’s activities with William. I decided on Amazing and a little bit kinky.

  Really? I could hear Beckett’s voice go up a half an octave. Kinky???

  I bit my lip. Handcuffs and honey.

  There was a long pause, and I watched the little dots on my screen blink. OMFG. Major. Am insanely jealous!!!!

  No kinky sex with Alec? Alec was an assistant art director with Fresh Market and was a great guy—fun and funky and so cute—and I was thrilled he and Beckett were dating.

  Not yet. Beckett texted back. Some heavy petting last night.

  At the party?

  That was the party!

  I shook my head and laughed again. I’d heard more than just Alec’s voice in the background when I called last night. I didn’t care. Beckett was so fastidious; I knew he’d leave my condo cleaner than when he’d arrived. But I got the feeling there was something he wasn’t telling me. Who else was there?

  He listed a few of his friends, and I felt a pang of sadness that I’d missed out. I didn’t go to an office every day, which meant it was hard for me to meet new people. I didn’t have a lot of friends in Chicago, and now several prospective friends had partied at my house last night without me.

  So what was the occasion? I texted. New opportunity? With who? Fresh Market? Someone else?

  Another long pause. All of William’s secrecy was clearly making me paranoid—now I felt like Beckett was keeping secrets. Beckett and I didn’t keep secrets. Or we never used to.

  Finally, he texted back. Don’t want to jinx it. Just cross your fingers and toes for me.

  You got it. Legs crossed too.

  That won’t last long.

  Beckett could always make me laugh.

  Enjoy the sun. Cold and dreary here. Laters!

  Ciao for now! XOXO, I texted back.

  I glanced at the clock on my phone. Barely noon. “Shit,” I muttered aloud again. Okay, that was no problem. I had work to do. I could keep myself busy for a few hours. William would probably be back in time for dinner.

  I retrieved my laptop and brought it outside to work. I definitely couldn’t have done this in Chicago, but in Napa, the pool, the pergola, the weather were all perfect. I felt like I was vacationing at a luxury spa. Sure, it was a little weird to be at William’s home without him, but I tried to focus on work and I succeeded for a little while. By the time I closed my laptop and stretched, rolling my neck to work out the kinks, the shadows were growing long. I checked my watch and heaved a loud sigh. It was almost four and still no word from William. I tried to snooze on the chaise by the pool but that lasted about thirty seconds. I wandered around the outdoor area a little bit, but I didn’t feel comfortable exploring the vineyard on my own and truthfully, I didn’t want to. I definitely didn’t want to run in to any of more of William’s staff, but really it was because I wanted William to show me how he made his wine. He was so proud of what he did here and it seemed only fair to wait for him to show me everything like he promised he would.

  If he knew me better, he would have realized that leaving me to hang around by myself all day was probably the worst possible thing. I wasn’t good at just sitting around, and I never had been. It was one of those things that I realized about myself after Jace died. It’s why I liked to take Laird for long walks, why I liked to run along the lakeshore. And it was why I built my darkroom. I needed to be busy, to be occupied. Me alone with my thoughts was not always a good thing, and sometimes, I needed not to think. I could lose myself for hours developing film and experimenting with different print techniques, but my eyes were crossed by now. I needed a break from work. And sometimes just an empty hour with nothing to fill it was too much. I guess that’s what happens when you become a twenty-two-year-old widow after six months of marriage. Yes, I had turned a corner since I met William. But old habits died hard.

  I may still have been behind on my sleep after the late night at The Peninsula, then the long trip here and William’s early morning wake up, but the last thing I needed was time to laze around and think. Kind of like last night’s massage, which had not relaxed me. At all. But at least that had ended well. I thought again about the handcuffs, the honey, and how I felt with that red silk scarf tied across my eyes. I felt a chill race through me even though it was toasty warm in the sun. That feeling of surrender and of letting William control my pleasure had been incredible, like nothing I’d ever felt with him or with anyone else before. I rubbed at my sore wrists, which were still bruise-free. I couldn’t wait to feel it again.

  By dinnertime, I was bored, antsy, and lonely. The house with the grounds and the vineyard was an enormous estate, but I still felt trapped. And a little pissed. My cell had been by my side all afternoon and though I had picked it up a zillion times, I hadn’t gotten so much as a text from William. I couldn’t wait any longer, so I finally gave in and punched in a text of my own.

  Where are you???

  I waited and waited. Nothing. This was what I feared.

  Fine. I decided to call him. It rang and went straight to voicemail. Which pissed me off even more.

  I stayed on my chaise. The sun had already set, but the outdoor heaters were lit and the well-placed landscape lighting created a warm halo of light over the whole pool area. Fernanda all but insisted that I eat dinner, and as she walked up carrying a tray, I was desperate enough to finally ask her if she knew anything. I’d wanted to ask her all day, but I had held my tongue. “Do you know when Mr. Lambourne will be back? It’s getting late.”

  “No, Miss Kelly, I’m sorry. I don’t.” She smiled and shrugged as she set the tray down on the table next to me.

  “Do you know
where he is? I haven’t heard from him since this morning, and I’m getting worried.”

  “Mr. Lambourne is a very busy man, Miss Kelly. I am sure he’s fine and will be back soon.” She was polite, but her look told me this sort of non-communication from William was not unusual. “Can I get you anything else, Miss Kelly?”

  I quietly sighed in frustration as I looked at the beautiful meal set out for me. I wasn’t very hungry, but I didn’t want to offend Fernanda and maybe she really didn’t know where William was or when he’d be returning. “No, I’m fine. Thank you, Fernanda. This looks delicious.”

  “Enjoy your dinner, Miss Kelly.” Then she turned and walked back toward the house.

  I ate the warm chorizo and spinach salad I’d chosen for dinner—which was super fresh and delicious—and drank the entire carafe of white wine that came with it.

  And I kept waiting.

  ***

  I’d always loved swimming. I was on swim team when I was a kid and I surfed most of my life too. I spent hours in the water, I felt at home there and completely comfortable, which is how I started photographing surfers. I was a strong swimmer and a halfway decent surfer, but managing heavy camera equipment while out on a board in riotous surf required strength and confidence too.

  I went back up to the empty master suite after dinner and sulked some more. When William walked in the door, I wanted him to know exactly how mad I was. But, surprise, surprise, I was too antsy to stay in the room. I needed to do something, and looking about, it dawned on me what. I found a skimpy red string bikini in my Narnia-like closet and pulled it on. I felt decadent wearing a bikini in January, so I texted Beckett a picture and typed, How’s the snow? before heading back down to the pool for a swim.

  It had been a while since I’d worked out in a pool, but after a few laps, my body relaxed and I focused on the repetition of my movements. I must have been swimming for the better part of an hour when I surfaced and spotted William sitting in a chair just a few feet from the edge of the pool. Finally, I thought. I was relieved, and excited too.

  I wiped my eyes, half expecting him to be a mirage. My heart was already pounding from exertion, but it beat even harder from seeing him in the flesh. He was sprawled in the lounge chair, wearing the same shirt and pinstriped trousers I last saw him in. The sleeves of his pressed shirt were rolled to the elbows, the top buttons undone, and his tie loosened. He held a highball in his hand, and his dark eyes watched me intently, like a hungry lion quietly watching his prey. I was more than ready to be caught.

  He looked so good I had to remind myself to continue treading water. I could see the stress of the day on his face, but somehow it only made his chiseled features more handsome. His hair blew lightly in the breeze, and he sipped from the highball, his gaze hot on mine.

  I didn’t know why he was keeping me at a distance or where he had been all day, but the way he looked at me, the yearning in his expression, pulled at me even more acutely than any words he might have spoken could have. He needed me.

  And I needed him.

  Without another thought, I swam to the side of the pool, hoisted myself up, and left a trail of water as I walked over to his chair. The air was cool, but the heaters kept the pool area warm, and I didn’t even grab a towel to dry off before I straddled him. I didn’t want to talk.

  With a smile, he sipped from the highball. “Nice suit.”

  I cocked my head. “Where’s yours?”

  “I don’t really need one, now do I?” His free hand was splayed across my bare back, steadying me on his lap. Slowly, his fingers crawled up my slick flesh to the strings holding my bikini top in place, first the tie around my back and then the tie around my neck. Slowly he pulled at each one and the scrap of fabric fell away in a wet heap on the ground beside us.

  My nipples puckered from both exposure and his hot gaze. Keeping that gaze on me, he raised the glass filled with amber liquid—bourbon, I guessed—and rubbed it across my hard nipple. I sucked in a shallow breath. The cold glass was a sharp contrast to my skin, which was still warm from the heated water, and my nipple pebbled painfully tighter.

  “Cold?” he asked.

  “A little.”

  “Let me warm you up.”

  My eyes never left his as he dipped two fingers in his drink then swirled them around my nipple until the amber liquid dripped onto my stomach. I could smell the heady aroma of the liquor and feel the warmth of it on my skin. William set the glass on the table, leaned forward, and lapped the bourbon from my breast and belly, heat blasting through me as his thick tongue burned a trail across my wet flesh. When he’d caught every drop, he took my now aching peak in his mouth and sucked long and hard. I moaned. “Oh God, William. Please.” My voice was deep and husky, and I felt a rush of heat between my legs.

  “Please what, Catherine? More?” He dipped a finger in his drink again and brought it to my other nipple, then his mouth was back on me and he bit down ever so gently on my hard point. I moaned again, louder this time, and then arched my back and pushed myself toward him.

  He was breathing hard and I felt his urgency as his hands went to the ties on each side of my bikini bottoms. A moment later those were also released and the swathe of fabric was on the ground. I was naked and still straddling him on the deck chair. Heat swirled and pulsed where our bodies touched. I wanted his hands on me so badly.

  Then his mouth was back, kissing me gently above my breasts and up my neck. I felt the scruff of his beard scratching against my skin and his hot breath close to my ear, which gave me goose bumps all over before he pulled me hard toward him and crushed his lips against mine. His tongue invaded my mouth, hot and probing, and my entire body responded to his kiss. I was wet from the pool, but wet and swollen with arousal now too. I could hear myself making rough sounds of pleasure as our tongues danced and William’s large hands gripped my ass and ground me firmly against his hard cock.

  I knew where this was going, and I wanted it to go there. My body was begging to go there, begging me to open the button on his bulging trousers and take him inside me with long, hot, hard strokes. But I hadn’t forgotten he had completely abandoned me today, hadn’t texted or called, and hadn’t even answered his phone when I called him. And now that he was back, it was all about sex again.

  His hands moved from my ass and rested on my thighs, and I covered them with my hands to keep him from moving inward. His gaze met mine, and I saw the question in his eyes.

  My heart was beating so hard I could barely speak, but I managed to say, “I didn’t think you’d be gone so long today.”

  He didn’t attempt to free his hands, but he did rub his fingers in small circles on the bare skin of my thighs, which seem to shoot little sparks of electricity straight to my clit. I tried not to squirm. “Neither did I. The meetings went longer than expected.”

  “What sort of meetings were they?” I asked, still breathless. “Work or Wyatt or something else?”

  He looked away. I wasn’t surprised. He was back in vintage William Lambourne mode—his version of don’t ask, don’t tell. “A little of this and a little of that,” he finally said.

  His hands were distracting me, but I wasn’t going to let this go. I wanted to say I came all the way from Chicago to be with you, and on the first day, you take off for fourteen hours. I think I deserve more than a cursory answer. But instead I just looked at him and didn’t say a thing. I let my silence do the talking.

  We sat there for a minute or two, not saying anything. Then his eyes, an icy blue, met mine. “It’s nothing that concerns you. If it did, I would share it. Please know that.”

  I blinked, stunned. I started to wriggle to move off of his lap but he clamped his hands down hard on my legs and held me in place.

  “Catherine, you have to trust me. There are some things I can’t discuss. You’re safe here. The security team is here. Everything is fine, and there’s nothing for you to worry about.”

  “You were with her, weren’t you?” I aske
d. I had no idea where that accusation came from. I didn’t even know I was going to say it, but the image of the dark-haired woman at the airport, who I hadn’t thought about at all today, just popped into my head. I remembered the two of them together on the tarmac, the way she’d placed her hand possessively on his arm. The way she’d ‘accidentally’ brushed her breast against him when they stood beside one another.

  William’s eyebrows came together. “With who?”

  I don’t know what was wrong with me. It was like my mouth was on autopilot and I couldn’t not keep going since I saw her so vividly in my head. “That woman you met at the airport. The one who couldn’t keep her hands off you.” Maybe it was my imagination, but I thought I saw a flicker of guilt in his eyes.

  He took a moment to reply and when he did, his response was careful and measured, which of course I noticed. “She was with me today, but not in the way you seem to think.”

  “So she can know what’s going on, but not me?”

  “Catherine.” His voice turned soothing, velvet and warm, and he was back to breathing normally. I was impressed that he could compose himself so quickly given that I was naked and straddling him right out in the open on his pool deck. Anyone could have walked out and seen us. “There is nothing going on between Anya and me. She’s an old friend and occasional business associate. That’s all.”

  “And her name is Anya?”

  “Anya Pierce. She’s not your rival. You have no rivals.” His hand traveled up my thigh to cup my hip. The soft stroke of his fingers forced me to take a shaky breath. I wasn’t quite sure Anya Pierce was nothing to William, but it was also true he was here with me now.

 

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