Sinful Reunion (Book Two of the Bidden Series)

by Cierlak, Crystal

  Stop thinking about it, she scolded herself. But try as she might she couldn't not think about it. The man was married, had a kid, a life, an entire existence that she did not belong to even 1% of. Getting divorced, she reminded herself.

  Natalie set the phone down on the couch and stood to walk to the floor-to-ceiling windows, the Strip stretching out for miles at her feet. The only time spent on the Strip so far was traveling from the airport to Eden and she doubted she'd see any much of it except for on the return trip to the airport. The trip was meant to be celebratory in nature and instead she'd ditched her friend for a night of hot sex with a handsome billionaire. Although on the other hand, how many people would switch places with her in a heartbeat? Wasn't that why people came to Vegas? To live? To love? To sin? And surely of all people Quinn would understand.

  Still, in his absence her mind wandered, over-analyzing every word, turn of phrase, comment, question, and profession of happiness or satisfaction. She stood and stared out at the adult playground at her feet, so lost in time and thought that she didn't hear the door open and close, or the sound of his footsteps as he crossed the room. Her skin prickled as his arms circled around her, his palms and fingers pressing into her abdomen with a gentle possessiveness.

  "Any time you wish to stand naked in my home waiting for me, be my guest." He kissed at her ear and neck before pulling her in close against his chest and leaning his chin on her shoulder. His fingers played lightly at the soft space of skin beneath her belly button, raking down to the very top of the tuft of hair between her legs and then back up again.

  "What would you call this?" Natalie asked, her eyes still trained on the view beyond the window.

  "To what specifically are you referring?"

  "You said before that our first night together wasn't cheating because you paid me. But you aren't paying me now."

  James lifted his head and took a step back, his hands remaining on her body. "No, I'm not paying you. Why? Would you call this cheating?"

  "I don't know. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about sleeping with another woman's husband. Again."

  "But I'm not another woman's husband, Natalie." His hands on her hips he turned her around until they were face to face again. His eyebrows were tightly knit over his stormy eyes. "The second Frankie was born I loved her more than anything, which only made finding out she wasn't actually my daughter hurt all the more. I could sleep with a hundred women and it wouldn't be in any way unfaithful to Celine." He tucked a loose strand of Natalie's hair behind her ear and let his fingers graze at the delicate skin. "I'm not, by the way," he said. "Sleeping with a hundred women," he clarified.

  Natalie nodded but said nothing, staring at him in silence as her thoughts scattered back into her subconscious. It was strange to hear him say the names of his wife and daughter out loud, as if he was speaking them into an existence they had no part in. She didn't know what to say. The lightness and fun they shared was gone and things were suddenly serious. It was her own doing, bringing up the topic of cheating, of searching for some kind of definition to what they were, if they were anything at all.

  "Okay," she said finally, smiling a small smile. "I don't know why I brought it up. It's not like-"

  He silenced her with a kiss, his mouth passionately possessing hers. She startled at first but closed her eyes and kissed him back. When he pulled away his eyes were heavy, his chest panting in obvious want. His hands splayed across her backside as he pulled her in close again.

  "What's wrong with you?" she asked, her eyes fluttering open and looking up coquettishly at him.

  "Come again?" he asked through an unsure smirk.

  "Well you're not terrible to look at, pretty decent in bed and you've got a little bit of money. So why'd your wife cheat on you?" She was hoping he got the undercurrent of humor in her voice, and thankfully he seemed to.

  "I don't know," James shrugged, and to Natalie's relief there was a lightened sense of humor to the statement. "Seems like that's more her error than mine."

  "Or maybe you're shit at picking women to fall in love with?" Natalie countered.

  "Just the one time," he responded quickly. The atmosphere shifted around them. The levity had dissipated and in its place was a new kind of seriousness, a kind that made Natalie's heartbeat flutter with nervousness. "Natalie-"

  "I have to leave by nine tomorrow morning," she purposely interrupted him. "We have a brunch reservation at eleven before we fly back to LA."

  The twelfth man's face momentarily darkened as he tightened his grip around her. "And then what?"

  "And then I drive back to my apartment and go through my entire closet looking for something appropriate to wear for the start of my new position at work on Monday, all while trying not to think about you and the night we're about to spend together." But in reality I'll just be obsessing over you. Like last time. Only it will be worse because this time I know exactly what I'm leaving behind.

  "And then what?" he repeated, his tone more serious.

  "I don't know, James." She slid her fingers up his neck to his ears and held his head as she leaned in and kissed him chastely on the lips. "Why think about tomorrow or the next day when we have right now?" She kissed him sweetly, biting down gently on his bottom lip and tugging at it until it seemed to break the dark frown that had cast upon his handsome face. "And it's like I said: You're not terrible to look at and you've got a little bit of money."

  "And I'm pretty decent in bed?" He smiled arrogantly at her and she just about swooned. Just like that the mood had lifted and they were once again in the sizzling state of anticipatory flirtation she loved so much.

  Natalie smiled and dramatically shrugged her shoulders. "Of course. How could I forget?"

  James leaned in and kissed her, then said, "You didn't forget. But if you'd like to be reminded-"

  This time it was her kiss that interrupted him, only there was nothing remotely chaste about it. She kissed him as though she never would again, and in her mind it was entirely possible that they were really about to spend their final night together. His hands swept over her body, prodding and squeezing at her flesh and breasts until her lust reignited to a roaring fire. He returned her passion with his own, deepening their kiss, tasting of her mouth and breathing heavily through his nose.

  "Bedroom," she managed to breathe out.

  "No, here. Turn around."

  She turned in his arms until her backside was against him, her front barely a foot from the cold glass windows that separated them from the Strip. He undressed quickly and she felt his erection between her legs, teasing her. He positioned her hips and steadied her with one hand while the other guided his erection into her with the other. She moaned as he filled her again and suddenly understood why he had requested she wear the shoes. When he began to thrust she reached behind with her arms until her hands made contact with his hips and she held tight, pushing and pulling in rhythm with his thrusting.

  James had one hand pressed into her hip and another at her breast, fingering her hard nipple into a taut peak. Natalie arched her back until her head touched his shoulder. He turned his head toward her as she careened her neck and their lips met, feasting hungrily as she pushed back into his thrusting. Her breasts spilled into his hands at the arch of her back and he lavished upon them as though he were worshiping them.

  "You're not looking at the Strip," he half-admonished her.

  She bit his lip and dug her fingers deep into his sides. "I'm only interested in you."

  "You got it," he smirked. His hand left her breast and pushed at her back until she was forced to bend at the waist. He caught her hands before they fell to her sides and he brought them behind her, cuffing them in his grip as he continued to thrust inside her.

  She groaned loudly at the deeper penetration, made perverse guttural noises as he thrust in and pulled out. It was pleasurable to the point of being painful, painful to the point of pleasure, and the thick fullness of him inside her twisted body made he
r want to scream his name. The restriction of her movements made her powerless to control her body as it tightened and came around him. Her eyes shut tight as she bore the brunt of the orgasm, her mouth making noises she'd never before made.

  Without warning he released her arms and she started to fall before he caught her by her hips. Her fingertips grazed the floor as he continued his pursuit, thrusting through her orgasm and renewing her lust once more. His pace increased, her pelvis pushing back against him for a still-deeper penetration. Her calves and thighs were burning but she ignored them, focusing instead on the pleasurable torment of his thrusting. Her body wavered but he held her still.

  "Oh, god, Natalie," he groaned. He arched his hips as he thrust, the movement brushing against the front of her vaginal wall and eliciting a crying moan with each instance. Her ankle wavered and she teetered unsteadily in her impractical footwear, falling towards the ground. James gripped tight to her hips and caught her, slipping out of her body in the process. Natalie climbed to her knees and reached hastily for the footwear, picking them off her feet and throwing them directionless into the room.

  "Don't stop!" she pleaded, reaching back for him. James squatted down behind her until she could rest on his thighs, his hand guiding him into her once again. "Ohh, my god," she moaned. "Don't stop."

  He hugged her tight to his body and picked up the pace again, thrusting up and into her with vigor. She grabbed for his hips to encourage his movements as his fingers danced across her breasts and chest, down to the open space between her legs and brushing against her clit. His mouth kissed at her ear, the hot steam of his breath and tongue pushing her towards climax.

  She came again, her body riding an undulating wave of pleasure as he touched, fucked, kissed and enthralled her. She lowered her chest to the ground and spread her arms out in front of her for support, breathing heavily as her body continued to write with pleasure.

  James was relentless, exhaling moans and breathing in sharp pants of oxygen as he moved inside her. The angle of her body pressed into the ground, her hips and behind pushed up against his open thighs was overwhelming. Every time he thrust she could feel it deep in her belly, tight and compact around him. She delighted in the rhythmic slapping of his balls against her clit. He slowed the pace of his thrusting in favor of long, penetrating strokes inside her, and she came again, shouting incoherently into the floor until his fingers squeezed into her so tight the skin puckered and pinched.

  "Fuck," he breathed through one final deep, penetrating thrust to her center, coming undone as he came inside her. Exhausted, spent, and thoroughly sated, Natalie let her body collapse completely to the ground, feeling him slip out an inch from her body. When he stilled completely he pushed her with gentle force and angled his body out from hers before lying down next to her, racing to catch his breath.

  "That was..." Natalie breathed, searching for the right word. "Adequate." There was a moment of silence before they both burst out in hysterical laughter, James turning to his side to laugh as Natalie grabbed for her stomach.

  "Thank you for that singing praise, Miss Harlow."

  "It was well deserved, Mr. Fitzgerald. You know this is the second time we've been intimate in front of the windows of a penthouse?"

  "You were too impatient to go to the bedroom," he gently admonished her. "Are you hungry? I'm starving. What time is it? I'll call down to room service."

  "Wait!" Natalie protested, grabbing for his arm before he could stand. "Just lay still with me for a minute. Please?"

  James looked almost startled at the request. "Of course," he smiled. He adjusted his side-laying position again and opened his arms to her. She scooted into his embrace, spooning her body into his as her head came to a rest at the crook of his shoulder.

  "Just for a minute," she murmured. But sleep took her in a near instant, her body exhausted from their lovemaking. James kissed at her ear and held her tight, stroking his fingers at her hip until she was softly snoring.

  ELEVEN

  Natalie woke to the sound of a discreet knock. From behind her James shuffled to a standing position and walked briskly towards the door, a tee shirt and a pair of cotton pants covering his body. Natalie looked down to find her own body had been outfitted in a clean white tee shirt that was several sizes too big and smelled distinctly of him. Sometime during her sleep he'd modestly covered her nakedness and moved her to the couch. She sat up just in time to watch James turn from the door with a silver platter balanced on one hand.

  "Not to brag, but we do make the finest grilled cheese sandwich in Vegas." He grinned as he set the platter down on the coffee table before her and lifted the warming cover to reveal two places of golden cheese deliciousness. "The trick is to first grill the bread and the cheese, then grill them together. Otherwise it's just two grilled pieces of bread with some melted cheese in the middle. Enjoy!"

  Natalie picked up a perfectly coiffed triangle of grilled cheese and bit, immediately closing her eyes as melted cheese filled her mouth. "Oh my god. Why did I not know how to do this in college?"

  "Because you didn't have one of the finest chefs in the country around to make it for you," James quipped from beside her on the couch before biting into his own grilled cheese sandwich.

  "If you tell me you did I will throw my sandwich at you."

  "No, I hoofed it to the cafeteria with my meal card same as any other proper uni student."

  Natalie smiled at his slip, noting it was the first time she'd hear him say something that sounded non-American. She leaned back into the couch and brought her knees up to her chest, not caring for modesty as the shirt slid down and exposed her to the room.

  "Can I ask you a personal question?" she thoughtfully inquired.

  "I don't know, can you?"

  Natalie rolled her eyes. "How old are you?"

  He gave her a pointed look. "Google didn't tell you?"

  "Actually, no. It didn't. But you look pretty young."

  "So do you," he quipped. "But I know you recently finished grad school so unless you're some kind of baby genius, Doogie Howser-type I figure you have to be at least in your early-to-mid-twenties."

  "Okay, with that reference you must be forty," she mocked him with wide eyes and a faux-horrified grimace. She side-eyed him as she took a slow bite of her meal. He looked mildly offended, though whether it was a put-on or for real, she had no idea.

  "Christ, Natalie, I'm 34!" he laughed. "Why do young people always think thirty is so damn old?"

  "Because we're too busy thinking that we are invincible, can do whatever the hell we want and lack any personal responsibility. At least that's what old people think about us."

  "Touché. But for the record I don't think any of those things about you."

  "Good. Then we can be friends. Even though you're, you know, old."

  "That's it!" James grabbed for her sandwich and threw both it and his down on the platter before tackling her back to the couch, straddling her waist as he tickled at her sides and beneath her arms. Natalie screamed through a laughing protest, trying helplessly to push him off her body with no success. "Call me old again, Natalie. See what happens when you do."

  "No! No, no!" she laughed hysterically, her eyes watering instantly. "I take it back! You're not old!" she squealed.

  The tickling stopped but his hands remained. "Good girl."

  Natalie stared up into his blue-green eyes as she caught her breath. "So when I was graduating from elementary school you were graduating from college?" A sly smile split her face and she grinned at him like an idiot.

  "Geez," he sighed, but smiled in spite of himself. Still straddling her waist he leaned forward and balanced his weight on his arms at either side of her head. "You really aren't very polite anymore, are you Natalie?"

  "Sorry, I get a little frisky when I've had really good cheese." She drew the word out and smiled again, biting her bottom lip in victorious pleasure at her own joke. When the moment passed and her humor subsided, she braved asking hi
m another question. "Where exactly do you live?"

  James absentmindedly ran a thumb along her cheek as he considered the question. "Here at Eden when I'm in Vegas. Various hotels when I'm traveling, some of which I own, some which I don't."

  "Right, but where do you live?" She emphasized the word. "Where do you call home?"

  "I have a home in New York but that's where..." he drifted off.

  "Your wif- I mean Celine and Frankie? They live there?"

  James' smile faded a touch. "They do. So did I."

  "So now you just flit around to your various hotels like you're playing Monopoly?"

  His eyebrow screwed as he viewed her shrewdly. "Something like that. Why? Where do you live, Miss Harlow?"

  "In a one-bedroom apartment in Los Angeles that is almost quite literally the size of this living room alone."

  "Sounds nice," he smiled.

  It was her turn to eye him shrewdly. "How so?"

  He ran an index finger down the length of her nose, his face softening into the smile he wore. "Because it's yours."

  Natalie smiled and then yawned, turning to cover her open mouth with a couch cushion. "Sorry. I'm not used to staying up this late."

  "Want to go to bed?"

  There was that atmospheric shift again, as though he wasn't asking her something as innocuous as whether or not she'd like to go to sleep but if she'd like to move in. For a question so simple the emotion behind it seemed loaded. She wondered if he even knew his own thoughts, or if he did, if he had any intention on sharing them. The hour was far too late and their lovemaking far too consuming for her to analyze any deeper meaning or convictions behind his words.

  "Sure," she merely replied with a kind smile.