I felt some measure of relief. I didn’t want there to be any rumors that my relationship with William had garnered Beckett this opportunity. He’d earned it on his own. “Thank you,” I said.
He moved so his arms were around my waist. I could smell his cologne, that special scent that was uniquely William Lambourne. “And now I think we have something to discuss.”
“We do?” I whispered.
“You came to me,” he pointed out. “Not that I mind. I’m always glad to see you, but I assume there was something you wanted.”
“Besides accusing you of conspiring with my best friend?” I gave him a sheepish grin.
“Yes, besides that.”
We did need to talk, and I wasn’t going to be able to keep my thoughts straight if I was standing so close to him. All I could think about was touching my lips to his and pressing my body against his. I wanted to strip off that suit—perhaps leave the red power tie—and feel him skin to skin. Exercising more willpower than I thought I possessed, I stepped out of his embrace.
“This must be serious,” he said, looking as displeased as I felt.
“It is. We need to talk.”
“Alright, but I don’t want to do it here. Too many interruptions.”
He moved to his desk, swiped his hand across it, and tapped something.
“Yes, Mr. Lambourne.” It was Parker’s voice.
“Tell George to bring the car around.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And reschedule my afternoon appointments.”
Pause. “Right away.”
He tapped the desk again.
“How do you do that?” I asked, gesturing to his desk. “It just looks like glass from this angle.”
He grinned. “It’s magic.”
“I’m not five.”
“I’ll show you the technology some other time. It’s nothing more than a tablet on a larger scale.”
And, I imagined, with a much larger price tag.
He walked toward me and gestured to the door. “Ready?”
“Yes. Where are we going?”
“My place. Is that okay?”
His territory. Was that an intentional power play? I could have fought the decision, but I was reluctant to have our discussion at my condo. Right now it held too many memories of our last fight. “That’s fine.” I followed him to the door. “Oh, wait.” I dashed to the table where I’d thrown the envelope and picked it up, stuffing it back in my bag.
“What’s that?” he asked.
I gave him a puzzled look. Was he really going to pretend he didn’t know? Or maybe he didn’t want to discuss it until we arrived at the penthouse. “Let’s talk about it at your house.”
We took the private elevator down. William didn’t move to kiss me, but he did hold my hand all the way down and out of the building. George was waiting out front with the black SUV. He held the door for us, his head held high. He didn’t even glance at me, just murmured, “Good afternoon, Mr. Lambourne. Miss Kelly.”
Some things never changed. We climbed in the back of the car, and William raised the privacy screen. I wondered if he would pull me onto his lap, kiss me, run his hands up my skirt…but he merely held my cold hand in his large warm one. “No gloves?” he asked. I gave him a look, daring him to say anything.
He grinned and squeezed my fingers. In a way that was comforting, and his restraint meant I could keep my thoughts focused on the conversation ahead.
I loved him.
I was willing to be totally honest with him.
The stalker shit had to stop.
As soon as I covered those topics, I could jump him.
“What are you smiling about?” William asked.
“I’ll tell you later,” I said.
The drive to William’s penthouse at the pricey State and Walton location didn’t take long at this time of day. We arrived and George opened the car door for us. William led me through the foyer and into the elevator. My heart pounded against my ribs. This was it. I was going to bare my soul. I could only pray William accepted me.
The elevator doors opened on the fifty-sixth floor, and we stepped into William’s marble lobby. Beyond the small entryway, the floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the Chicago skyline. The bright sun glinted off the glass and metal, and the dark blue expanse of the lake extended as far as I could see. William led me into the living room and shrugged off his coat, laying it neatly on a chair. I watched him remove this outer layer and took a deep breath. It was impossible not to think of the last time I was here—the night William had surprised me with the naked sushi. I could remember him whispering in my ear, “Are you still hungry?”
I had been then, and I hungered for him now. I didn’t know if I would ever have my fill of William Lambourne. I shivered, thinking about that night and the way William had touched me, caressed me, fucked me…
“Do you want to sit down?” he asked.
“Maybe in a minute,” I said, pulling the envelope from my bag. “First I want to talk about this.”
Twenty
“What is that?” William asked, moving to stand beside the chair. He was angled so that when I looked at him I also had a glimpse of my black and white surfing photo hanging on his wall. I couldn’t help but stare at it and think about that time in my life. That time—all of me, my past and my future—were part of William’s life now. If there was another way to show that more plainly, I couldn’t think of it. He was displaying his commitment to me on the wall for all to see. My art was part of his home. He wanted me here with him—he had just dropped everything he’d planned for the afternoon to be with me. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for Parker to reschedule all of the meetings and conferences with big shots this afternoon, but William hadn’t even seemed to think twice about it. I was part of his life now. I was one hundred percent included. I was the priority. Finally, I got it.
I wanted to show him I felt the same way. I dropped the envelope and moved toward him. At the same time, he opened his arms and enclosed me within them, pulling me against him. As soon as I touched him, my determination to talk wavered. He smelled so good, comforting and enticing all at the same time. I buried my face in his chest, inhaling his scent and feeling the steel of his muscled torso. I could hear his heart beating, could hear the way it quickened when I wrapped my arms around him. It felt so good to be in his embrace, like sinking into your own bed after a long vacation. I felt right here.
His hand brushed down my hair, twirling it around his fingers and tilting my head back gently. “I hate fighting with you.” His voice was soft and serious.
“I hate fighting with you. This,” I squeezed him tightly, “this is what I like.”
“Mmm. We can agree on that.” He lowered his mouth and brushed his lips over mine in a slow, tantalizing stroke. My lips tingled and tickled as I strained to close the distance between us. He still held my hair, and he used that hold to keep me from capturing his mouth as he darted his tongue out and ran it lightly over my upper lip.
I closed my eyes, feeling my whole body simmer with a heat that I knew would build and build until he made it bubble over. His tongue now licked lightly at my bottom lip and then he sank his teeth softly into the flesh. “I’ve wanted to do that since you walked into my office,” he murmured. “I want to see you bite your lip when you come.”
I shivered and took a shaky breath. I had to remember what I’d wanted to accomplish. I was getting sidetracked. It was very difficult not to when I touched William. “We need to talk,” I said.
“Dirty talk? I like it.” His eyes sparkled down at me as he tried to contain a grin.
I couldn’t help but smile in return. He was in one of his playful moods. I loved those, but I couldn’t afford to indulge it at the moment. “You know what I mean.”
He sighed and released my hair, but he didn’t step back. He was going to make me break the contact between us. I gritted my teeth and forced myself to release him. “I—” I cleared my throat and tried to think
how to begin.
“I haven’t been a very considerate host. Would you like something to drink?”
“I…yes. That sounds great.” I could use the time to formulate my thoughts, but instead of leaving me to grab me something to drink, he took my hand and tugged me along with him into the kitchen.
It was as cold and stark as I remembered. The cabinets and counters were sleek white, and the stainless steel appliances gleamed under the expensive spotlighting. My counters were littered with empty water bottles, random pieces of camera equipment, and half completed to-do lists. William’s counters were bare and spotless. Hutch Morrison didn’t have the monopoly on meticulous kitchen organization, it seemed.
We stopped in front of the refrigerator—a ridiculously oversized SubZero—and he opened the white cabinet next to it, which concealed a wine cooler. He paused for a second as he surveyed the contents, then pulled out a bottle. I had a peek inside before he closed the door. The bottles were organized perfectly by variety, turned label up, and stacked in neat rows. I shook my head. “Sometimes I wonder what you’re doing with me.”
He raised a brow as he slid out a drawer, produced a corkscrew, and began to open the bottle of wine. “Why would you say that? It’s me who doesn’t deserve you. You’re talented, smart, beautiful, and great in bed. How lucky am I?”
Well, when he put it that way… My cheeks flushed, but I made myself accept the compliment. “Thank you. I just meant that I’m such a mess, and you’re so organized.” I watched as he effortlessly pulled out the cork and then grabbed two wine glasses from an upper cabinet. He poured, filling each with a deep pink liquid that I immediately recognized.
“Is that the same rosé we drank at Casa di Rosabela?” I asked. The rosé that he was so proud of, the rosé which had inspired my safe word. I could feel my blush deepen across my cheeks.
William smiled broadly as he handed me a glass. “Very observant. It is. See, I’ll make a wine connoisseur out of you yet, Catherine. Cheers.” We touched glasses. I sipped the wine, dribbling a bit on my bottom lip. I lifted my hand to catch it before it ran onto my chin, but he grabbed my hand and shook his head. His eyes were dark and intense. My breath hitched.
“Messy can be sexy,” he said, touching his finger to my mouth. “Very sexy.” He dipped his head and licked the drop of wine from my bottom lip. At the taste of him mixed with the bright yet delicate flavors of the rosé, my thoughts flashed back to Napa, to our night with the honey and handcuffs and his scorching hot kisses between my legs. My arms came up and I wrapped them around his neck, pulling his mouth to mine for a deeper kiss. He didn’t resist, and this time I pushed him back, pinning him to the counter and pressing against him.
“I thought…you wanted to talk,” he said, his voice husky and breathless with need. I loved that I could do this to him, that I could make him want me so much.
“Talking can wait,” I muttered. “I’ve missed you too much.”
His lips were on mine again, and his hands cupped my cheeks, then tangled in my hair, angling my head to deepen our kiss. He stroked my mouth with his tongue, filling me in the same way he would with his cock. My core throbbed as heat rushed between my legs. I could feel that I was already hot and slick and ready, and I reached for the button to his trousers.
He caught my hand. “Not like this,” he said firmly.
I blinked, the haze of my desire making his words confusing. “What’s wrong?”
“We’re not going to fuck in the kitchen. Not this time. I’m going to do this right.”
I frowned. “You always do it right.” I moved to kiss him again, but he blocked me.
“As flattering as that may be, I am determined.” He bent and swept me into his arms, one hand behind my knees and the other around my shoulder.
I gasped. “What are you doing?”
“Carrying you to the bedroom. Grab the wine.” And he really was. He was carrying me through the penthouse, heading for his bedroom.
“William! I’m too heavy for this,” I squealed as I tried to balance our wine glasses and the half-full bottle of rosé while settling into his arms.
“Do I look like I’m having trouble?”
I had to admit he didn’t. He moved almost effortlessly, as though my weight was nothing. When we reached the master suite, he lowered me on the large platform bed that dominated the room. The drapes to the huge windows were open, and he didn’t move to close them. I watched as he stood over me and removed his tie. He unbuttoned his collar, and I sat and reached for my boots.
“Let me.” He knelt and took one boot in his hands, unzipped it, and pulled it off my foot. “These are very hot, by the way. Very dominatrix,” he purred wickedly as he repeated the gesture with the other boot. He was kneeling at the side of the bed, but soon rose and knelt beside me, placing his hand behind my head and lowering me gently to the pillow. He kissed me tenderly, tasting my lips and then moving to my neck and my earlobe. His hands remained cupping my face, but I wanted to feel him touching me all over. I arched, trying to tempt him, but he continued to kiss me, making sure he teased me with the slowness of the way he moved down my neck.
“William,” I moaned. His mouth and hot breath on me tickled deliciously, and I shivered all over.
“Patience,” he said, his lips trailing to my collarbone. I arched again and realized his knee was between my legs. I scooted down, causing my skirt to ride up slightly, and pushed my sex against him.
“Catherine…” he said in warning, but he didn’t move away. I wondered if he could feel the heat blazing through my panties and the thick tights I wore. He unbuttoned my blouse and kissed the skin he bared while I pressed against him, moving slowly up and down. Another button loosed and he kissed the tops of my breasts. He was paying such careful attention to me, worshipping me in a way that was both sweet and incredibly erotic.
Another button and he smiled when he saw the black lace bra I wore. “Also very hot,” he said appreciatively. Then he kissed my hard nipples through the lace, and I couldn’t stop my hips from rocking as I rubbed against him. I moaned softly as he licked and sucked my nipple. Then he pulled the lace aside and took my bare point into his mouth, sucking hard while he increased the pressure of his muscled thigh against me. The pull of his lips sent a shock wave through my entire body and I moaned again, louder this time.
“Don’t hold back, beautiful girl. Let it happen,” he breathed as his lips found my other nipple and began to coax it to a hard peak. I couldn’t believe I was going to come. I was still dressed. We both were. But my body tightened and I dug my fingers into his back as I shattered into a million pieces and cried out in ecstasy.
Finally, when my pleasure subsided, he moved back to look at me, his hand tenderly cupping my face. “You look so beautiful right now,” he said, eyes still hungry. “I love to see you glow. But I’m not done with you.”
I laughed softly. “Ok,” I said. I was ready for more and ached for his touch even though he had just made me come. It didn’t matter; I couldn’t stop wanting him. I expected him to roughly strip off my clothes and plunge himself into me, but instead he took his time and undressed me. Slowly, he unbuttoned the rest of my blouse, raising me with one hand behind my shoulders and pulling my top off. Then he unhooked my bra and discarded it as well. We didn’t speak and the only sound was our ragged breathing and the rustling as he removed my clothes and tossed them to the floor.
When he reached for the button on my skirt, I couldn’t contain my moan. He was moving so languidly, so reverently. When his fingers brushed my skin, he must have seen my reaction because he smiled but he didn’t stroke me, didn’t fondle. Somehow this benign neglect made me want him all the more. He pulled off my skirt, then tugged my tights down, freeing one leg and then the other. Then he reached for my black lace panties.
I lifted my hips as he tugged them off and dropped them on the floor. I was naked, and his gaze seemed to feast on me, to drink me in. “You’re so lovely,” he said. “You have t
he most beautiful skin, Catherine. I don’t know what I did to deserve you. And I can’t stop wanting you. I can never get enough.” His hands moved to the buttons on his shirt, unfastening them slowly, never taking his eyes from my body, my face. When he reached for the button to his trousers, I couldn’t stop my legs from spreading slightly. He drew in a slow breath as he slid his pants off, baring his black boxer briefs and the tent his erection made within them.
I parted my legs farther and when he tugged off his last piece of clothing and revealed his rigid beautiful cock, I pressed my fingers against my swollen sex. “No.” He shook his head, then leaned in to grasp my hand and move it away. “I want you soft and ripe and ready for me.”
I was so hot for him. I was clenching the sheets and writhing with anticipation. “William, please. I want you so—”
He straddled me, this time keeping his legs on either side of mine. His hands imprisoned my wrists lightly and he kissed me, trailing his lips down my body, tasting every inch of me. Finally, he released my hands and gently pushed my legs apart. “I know, beautiful girl, but let me take care of you.” I felt his fingers brush up my thigh to my sex. He parted my swollen folds and gently trailed a finger around my entrance and then slowly slid just one thick finger inside. “You’re so wet already,” he said as he slowly moved his finger in and out. I could feel the pressure building, the heat coalescing in my core as he looked at me and added another finger. He slid down my body and positioned himself between my legs.
“Oh God,” I groaned. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. His fingers felt so good inside me as I rocked my hips in rhythm with his hand. When he slightly curved his fingers up, hitting that sensitive spot on top, I jerked and involuntarily clamped down on him, the pressure I felt inside instantly increasing. My toes began to curl. “William, William,” I muttered as I reached my hand down and ran my fingers through his thick, dark curls.
A Sip of You (The Epicurean Series) Page 26