"Hmm,” was the best she could manage without swearing.
Before she'd realized he'd even moved, Cain was on his knees in front of her. So close he seemed to be everywhere. His hand went to the side of her face and his mouth met hers in a deep, distinctly sentimental kiss. He tasted like wine, the smoky flavour left behind from his drink. His lips weren't commanding now, they were questing, softly discovering the taste of her. He was taking the time to get to know her, to create a response that was more than lust. A response to tug on her heart while his teeth tugged at her top lip.
* * * *
Cain drew back from the kiss. Olivia's eyes—those big, dewy eyes the colour of eucalyptus leaves—fluttered open, questioning his sudden departure. Running a thumb over her cheek, he looked at her mouth, already pouting wetly from their kiss, before he returned to meet her glimmering green eyes.
"Don't take the job, Olivia."
Instantly, the mistiness of arousal left her gaze and she sat up straight. “I beg your pardon?"
From her haughty tone, he knew she wasn't asking for clarification, she was questioning his motives and his gall. Instead of answering, he kissed her again. Long and slow and deep, almost drowning in her. Hearing the tiny noise in the back of her throat, feeling the way she shifted beneath him, he withdrew from her again, licking at her lips before he left completely. He drew a long breath, preparing himself to reiterate. “Don't take the job, Olivia."
It took longer for her to gather an answer this time. Longer for the clarity to return to her gaze. When she spoke, the words were quiet, crisp and slightly accented. “You'd have me give up my income, my way of life, and my prospects for a future to appease your male pride?"
Hell, yes! The instant response ringing through his head worried Cain. He'd known the woman a week, and already he was demanding she change her life for him. Worse than that, he was ready to change his own life for her. He'd love to find a way to stay here, settle into her life, keeping her only unto himself. It was far too soon for him to be feeling this way. He had to find a way to minimise it.
"I worry about you in this job, Olivia. Look at what happened tonight.” God, what a night.
"Do you know what my job description was the last time I had to fight off unwanted advances, Cain?"
Crap! He hadn't seen this one coming. He'd bet the answer wasn't “escort.” Damn the woman, must she always have a legitimate reason for all of her actions? It was bloody annoying. He didn't bother answering, figuring she'd tell him anyway.
"I was a legal secretary. Not only did I work from dawn to dusk preparing documents and searches, I got paid a hundredth of what the lawyers did. All they had to do was sign off on my work. Then to make things worse, my slimy bastard boss used to put his hands on me at every opportunity. Eventually, I was so afraid to go near him he'd summon me to his office via an article clerk who would escort me."
Olivia was angry now, her frown ferocious, her accent thick. “In the end, he told me if I wasn't going to give him what he wanted, I'd have to look elsewhere for employment! So much for decent, respectable jobs!"
"You should have sued him for harassment or unfair dismissal."
"Ah, yes, I should have sued a law firm, that would have resulted well for me."
"Okay, Olivia, you're right, I'm wrong. Take the job.” His gut clenched even as he spoke the words. He hated this, hated what she did for a living, hated feeling so utterly superfluous in her well thought out, entirely logical life.
"I love to hear a man apologise.” Her expression softened and a smile teased her lips out of the tight line they'd become during her outburst.
"I didn't apologise."
"But you will.” Her voice purred with promise and a little challenge.
"Really?” he didn't know where this was leading, but it sure sounded good.
"I Promise."
* * * *
Olivia led Cain to her bedroom, alight with the challenge she'd just proposed. She didn't, however, lead him straight to her big, white, wrought iron bed with its coffee-coloured duvet. Instead, she stood him at the foot of the bed and began undressing him. Unbuttoning his ever so proper, crisp white business shirt, she slid the camel-coloured jacket and stark shirt off his shoulders at the same time. There being no hurry this time, she left him standing and hung his clothes carefully over the back of a chair. Just to keep him on edge, she stripped off her dress as well. Surely the sound of soft fabric slithering over her stockinged legs would heighten anticipation. Passion was for all the senses after all. She hung her dress and stockings over his jacket. A sexy image in itself. Nothing worse than crinkled clothing in the morning. Nothing nicer than to make him wait a little longer.
"Business clothing is really far too uptight for a body like yours. One day I want to see you in a T-shirt.” Oh, dear, she was projecting a future, that wasn't good. He hadn't mentioned anything about a future and, until that one sentence, she hadn't considered it herself. Hopefully, he'd pay no attention.
Just in case he had, she moved behind him quickly and licked and kissed her way along his back, over his shoulder blades, and down to that beautiful narrow waist. She became absorbed by the taste of him. He tasted clean and sharp, salt and citrus. All male flavours for all male skin. Closing her eyes to let her tongue do all the work, she listened to his breath hiss past his teeth as she nibbled her way round to his flat, lightly haired stomach. Laving her tongue along the dent between his stomach muscle and hip, a ripple only well-built men developed, she felt him shiver. A husky laugh of triumph left her throat. Delighted, she exalted in her power. It was lovely to feel what she could do to him.
Olivia delved into the dent of his belly button and Cain groaned. “At least let me lie down, Olivia."
"Nooo ... not yet. I'm only playing for now.” Go on, big boy. Wonder what's going to happen when I stop playing.
Working her way back up to his chest, beautiful and barely haired, she was fascinated by the indentations between muscles. Her fingers and tongue explored all the grooves she could find, luxuriating in this, her first opportunity to know his body the way he already knew hers.
"How do you get a chest like this?"
Cain smiled down at her, almost indulgently. “You don't really want the details, do you?"
"No. Maybe later.” Again with the future! Build a bridge, Olivia!
Making her way to a smooth male nipple, she was gratified to find the small pebble already hard from her ministrations. Using the very edge of her teeth, she bit at the edges of the erection. At his gasp, she sucked the rest of the disc into her mouth. Cain groaned and grasped at her hair, trying to bring her mouth back to his.
"Do you want me to stop?” she asked, just before nipping at him again, knowing full well what the answer would be.
His voice caught somewhere in the back of his throat, making it rasp when he spoke. “No ... don't stop."
The sound of his voice, the rumbling noises she dragged from him, left Olivia drenched with pleasure. Unbuckling his belt, she divested him of his clothing. To her, undressing him seemed to take less than a minute. To him, it most likely had felt far longer, and that was precisely the point. The feeling of power was potent in her blood. The womanly need to feel him quake at her touch grew stronger with every caress. Stepping away from him, she let him watch as she slid the elastic sides of her panties down over her hips. Cain groaned, his fists clenching as she slid them further down and finally let them drop to the floor. His strangled sounds of admiration set quivers of delight racing through the pit of her stomach. Olivia warmed to the entire concept of seduction.
It was past time to bring her cold turkey inside ... maybe she'd roast him up for dinner! A wicked smile landed on her lips at the thought. This was much more fun than she'd ever thought possible.
Kneeling to his erection, she took him in her mouth. While her tongue smoothed and slicked along his shaft, her hands moved of their own volition. Tickling up the insides of his thighs, one stroked at the base
of his member, just below her lips, while the other held the weight of him in the palm of her hand. He was spectacular, and, for the first time ever, this position felt liberating. To have such a magnificent, strong specimen grinding and grasping for her was the most divinely feminine thing she'd ever felt.
Sliding her mouth away with one last slick suck at the head of his penis, she stood. She deliberately slid her body up his before she took his hand and smiled into his heavy-lidded gaze. She rose on tiptoe to kiss him deeply, letting her tongue glide past his lips and into his mouth to tangle with his. His strong hands encircled her waist, lifting her closer, almost completely off her feet.
"Now we can lie down,” she told him, small slivers of anticipation spreading across her skin with the heat of his hands at her waist.
Cain lay on his back and she settled herself on his hips, just behind the hardness of his erection. Leaning forward, she ran his shaft through the hot, throbbing folds of her sex. Rubbing the head of his penis persistently at her clit, desire spiralled through her. She'd never been so hot for anyone as she was for Cain. She leaned forward to kiss him again, the tips of her breasts brushing against his chest, not once easing the motion against him.
"Cain?"
"Yes, Olivia.” The words didn't seem a response, rather an instruction to continue.
"You can apologise any time now and I won't hold it against you.” She might hold a lot of other things against him, like her breasts and the dripping wetness of her cleft, but never an apology.
His laugh was barely there. She shivered, increasing the speed of her rubbing. Muscles tightened everywhere. With her climax so close it took every bit of her self-restraint to ease back, to look at him. Maintaining eye contact, she slid the tip of his erection just inside her. She leaned it at her opening so he could feel her almost around him, letting him anticipate the rest. Her own anticipation was nearly consuming. The breath hitched in her throat, and it was all she could do to wait to slide over him.
"I haven't heard you say anything yet, Cain."
His smile was lazy and wolfish with heat. “My most sincere apologies, Olivia. You are certainly capable of making your own decisions. I particularly like this one."
Rewarding him was bliss. Slowly, she eased over him, feeling the inevitable “Oh, God" stretching of him. Shifting her knees wider, she moaned with the exquisitely torturous penetration. Slow and thick, hot and gulping.
"You feel so good inside me.” She was barely halfway on him, yet already felt full. Surely, this was going to kill her.
Cain took her knees in his hands, moving them even wider, sliding her a fraction lower. Her gulp was audible. Chuckling low and throaty, he massaged the insides of her thighs with his thumbs. Halfway up her legs, he found the point where pressure sent small charges of excitement chasing up her thighs to join in the pit of her stomach. Olivia registered shock at the flood of sensation. It was such a simple caress, yet created wave after wave of quivering pleasure.
She thrust down, sharp and quick, crying out, throwing her head back at the feel of such fierce probing within her. Breathing fast and shallow, she remained still while her body became accustomed to his girth. Feeling him all the way past her navel, she couldn't help but whimper.
"Do it again, Olivia."
"What?"
"Slide over me again."
Easing upward, away from him, she felt the sensuous slide of his shaft inside her, as well as the emptiness growing with each centimetre her body lifted. Finally, he was almost completely withdrawn. His thumb slid through her wetness. Finding the tiny bead of her clitoris, he fondled. She shuddered and moaned in response. Then both his hands returned to her hips and held her steady while he rammed back into her. Deep. So deep she felt the snagging pleasure-pain all the way up her torso into the points of her breasts.
Again, her voice rang out. “Cain!"
Hands in the middle of her back, he pushed her forward so his teeth could nip at her breasts. Her nipples, still taut and throbbing with pleasure from his thrust, hurt when his teeth bit down. Oh but she shook with the feel of it and begged him for more.
"Harder, Cain. I want more!” She panted, pleaded against his skin. Growling in response, he suckled hard, grinding her pelvis against him, and their rhythm began.
"Ah, Cain. Mon Dieu, si'l vous plait!” My God, please!
The stroking within and his teeth pulling savagely at her breasts overwhelmed her senses. Her shattering orgasm threatened to tear her apart from the inside. She clutched, grasping at him. She was almost afraid of the sheer blinding pleasure he brought her. His thumb came back to her clit. Continuing to thrust and flick at her while her climax ripped through her, he drew every last dripping shiver from her before he withdrew. She was limp and raw and wet, but he wasn't finished.
Flipped onto her stomach, Olivia could barely believe it when he thrust a pillow under her hips and a cylindrical cushion under her stomach between her legs.
"Cain, it's too much!"
Gripping her buttocks, he separated them firmly. He slid into her from behind while she was still slick and hot and quivering. One hand came around to her front and separated the lips of her sex, holding them open while he thrust into her again. Knees wide apart to accommodate him, her clit brushed against the cushion. The weight of him over her back kept her hips down against the pillow. Each time he pushed inside her, her raw, throbbing clit was ground against the cushion. Shudders racked her until she was writhing against the cushion, piercing herself with him. He grabbed her hips and pulled her tightly against him and the shudders screamed out of her. Wave after wave fell over her, muscles clenching and releasing in concert with his.
"Olivia?"
"Oui."
"Take the job if you want, but keep this in mind while you're on your date."
"It's not a date,” she replied, not bothering to explain the difference between an appointment and a date. He would never understand, possessiveness was in his nature. She was not a possession.
* * * *
Cain awoke to an empty bed. What was it with this woman and her desire to leave him as soon as possible after sex? They were definitely going to have to create some ground rules. Good, strict ones. Rule one was going to specifically demand she never leave the bedroom before him. Leaving the warm, rumpled bed, he wandered the apartment, looking for clues as to Olivia's disappearance. No great detective skills were required. A note leaned against the phone exclaiming, “Gone for a run!” Her script sloped along the page in a copperplate cursive no longer taught in Australian schools. She'd obviously taken great pains to keep some parts of herself irredeemably French.
While sipping his coffee and surveying his surroundings, he felt distinctly like an interloper. The apartment reeked of Olivia's preferences and personality. Gentle, unobtrusive wall colours; framed impressionist prints interspersed with the odd gregarious knick-knack were strewn about like little clues to the contradictions in her personality. The squat jade Buddha hidden between vases on her coffee table was a perfect example. How could a woman with rosewood rosary beads in a bowl on her sideboard have Buddha guard her keys? Furry orange and pink cushions strewn across her expensive leather lounge were another odd counterpoint amongst otherwise antique furniture. Her CD collection included everything from Porgy and Bess to Rachmaninov and AC/DC's Back in Black.
Drawn to her bookcase, Cain choked on his coffee when his eyes focused on the titles displayed so blatantly before him. Along with the usual novels and classics such as Shakespeare, Tolkein and Joanne Harris’ Chocolat, there was the most enormous variety of engineering textbooks he'd ever seen. Even as an engineering student, he'd never seen so many texts. Aghast, he stared at a Geomechanics study book. It may as well have read Black widows-a study in how to slay your lovers.
Oh, he was slain all right. Oprah, my ass!
Cain's second coffee was half finished and his snooping in her apartment interrupted when Olivia returned. She didn't look the least bit guilty. In fact, she
was downright glowing.
Her hair held back in a ponytail and the light sheen of sweat on her skin were almost enough to make her look girlish ... if it weren't for that divine top lip. Her damn kittenish mouth had him hard just looking at it. Question was, could he kiss her without strangling her?
"Good morning!” She kissed his forehead happily on her way past to the shower.
Oh, yeah. He could kiss her all right! When she'd bent low to kiss his forehead, he'd smelled her, the same glorious, womanly smell that had engulfed him last night. Before she could get any further, he grabbed her by the back of the neck and repositioned her mouth over his.
* * * *
Olivia's eyes flew open when Cain's tongue invaded her mouth, deep, strong, and aggressive. His hands moved her limbs about until she straddled him. His fingers were already creeping up the legs of her running shorts. The quickening of pulse was immediate. Dragging her lips from his, she struggled with his hands, trying to keep them from their destination.
"Cain, I can't. I have to shower and get dressed. I have appointments today."
Conceding defeat when she slapped his persistent hands from her butt, he stood. She moved from him to the door of her bedroom. Behind her, he said, “I'll come with you."
"Where?” If this was another “don't take the job” ploy, she was going to hit him, probably with the stupid answering machine.
"To the shower."
While his face strove for innocence, there was nothing less than mischief in the smile that kept twitching his lips.
"No, Cain, I'm serious. You'll distract me."
"No, I won't. I'll just ... wash you."
Wash her, he did. With soap-slicked hands and an avid interest in cleanliness, he was very ... thorough. Any part he believed his fingers may have missed, he explored with his tongue.
"I love that you're hairless here. It's so smooth, like silk.” He flicked his tongue through the folds of her mound.
"Please, Cain. Please stop. I have to go.” Only she didn't want him to go. In truth, if he stopped, she might just die.
Thank God he ignored her. Instead of stopping he returned his dedication to personally promoting feminine hygiene. He left her to grip at the windowsill, quivering bonelessly while he knelt to his devotions. Some parts of her he seemed to especially enjoy soaping, like her nipples—the pale pink cones strained through rings of bubbles. He pinched and played with them. While she shivered and shook, arching her back away from the tiles, her breasts thrust forward for more.
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