by Jane Linfoot
‘Sure about that?’ His dark eyes under even darker brows drilling into her now, turning her insides to hot toffee.
What more assurance did the darned man need, what more could she give?
‘Ed, I came here for fun, I came for the bonk-fest you promised, simply to prove to myself that I could. I already explained that, and you agreed to play the guinea pig, if you remember? I’m sorry to disappoint your huge ego, but you personally have very little to do with it, apart from the obvious bonking bit, obviously.’ There, that told him, even if she had said obvious twice. He couldn’t ask for more than that, unless … ‘Unless you’d like me to sleep with you again, to prove it definitively? Let’s have that pleasure max you’ve been begging for one more time, if that’s what you need to know it’s fun for me, and nothing more. I prove I can do it one more time. It’s neither here nor there for me.’
So, that came out before she’d thought it through, but now it was out there, it was no bad idea. Doing it again could be the best way of proving to herself she didn’t give a damn about him, and crepe-suzette to the way her pulse was already racing at the thought. That would be because the man was pure dynamite in the O department, and dammit, she may never get another bite at orgasms like that in the rest of her life. It had to be a now or never kind of a thing, and she’d be stupid not to grab that whilst it was on offer.
He took a deep swig of whisky, and lowered his eyes as he bumped his glass on the table. ‘No, I appreciate the offer, but sorry, it’s out of the question.’
What? Was Mr Sex-crazed blowing her off? Again. Surely not?
‘You are joking?’
‘No, it’s too big a risk. Great offer, thanks all the same, but count me out of that one.’
Totally infuriating didn’t come close. She gritted her teeth and watched his jaw muscle twitch as she tried to work out her next move. When nothing inspirational sprung to mind, she opted instead for a throwaway line. ‘Fun whilst it lasted anyway.’
Swirling his whisky round the glass now, he shot her a rueful grin. ‘Too bad I’ll never get to see those tattoos properly, but I’ll have to live with that.’
‘What? Now you are being ridiculous, how the heck did you miss my tats?’
‘A hundred reasons – your jacket, the dark, the covers, and your vest by the pool. Need I go on?’
‘No point backing off all the way and then sounding wistful. It’s too late now Mr Mitchum, your loss. Anyway, I think I’ll get off to bed. Thanks for a great evening by the way.’ She stole one last glance at Ed, brooding over his whisky, tossing her head as she slid to the floor, determined to keep her dignity in place, and the disappointment out of her parting smile.
Pausing for a moment to steady herself before she tackled the walk across the limestone flags, the thought of never holding him again sent a stabbing spasm through her chest. Whoa. Spasms? Never a good look. Then her eye snagged on the iPod dock on the work surface, and suddenly she knew exactly what she had to do. If she took a chance and it went horribly wrong, the worst thing that could happen was that she would end up looking even more desperate and rejected. But what the heck. She had to work fast, seize the moment. Purposefully, she strode across the kitchen, stretched out one quaking finger, and, no idea what was coming, flicked on the music and held her breath.
Great, her luck was in. Lana Del Ray. She recognised it immediately. That smoldering track couldn’t be more perfect for what she had in mind, and just to make doubly sure she leaned in and pushed the repeat button. As the opening bars slid across the room Ed’s head jerking upwards told her she had surprise on her side too.
***
‘What the .… ’
Was that music? Ed let his gaze leave the glass he’d been staring at so fiercely to avoid getting a parting eyeful of Millie’s legs as she left. When his eyes snapped back into focus they locked on her across the kitchen. Talk about double takes. He’d heard of OMG moments, and this had to be one. Millie? He wasn’t sure what the heck was happening, but man, he wasn’t complaining. She had her back to him, legs apart, forcing the split in the back of her skirt open in a way that sent his entire blood supply rushing south, and she was swaying gently in time to the music, smoothing her palms over the curves of that delicious ass as she gyrated her hips. And the melody, all distant harps, and echoing voices singing about bad boys going to heaven, and here was one bad boy who just landed right there himself. Except he wasn’t supposed to be doing this.
And then she turned. One twist of her knee, and she was round. And he was picking up his dropped jaw, as she ran her hand around her head, languidly flicking hair clips onto the floor. Shaking and mussing her hair now, slipping him a smooch of a smile before averting her eyes again. So the hayrick was back, but this wasn’t a Millie he’d seen before. Sidling now, butt out, working those dynamite curves, pausing to stretch along the work surface, simultaneously smoldering hot, and delectably untouchable. A hundred percent in control. Of him. Of herself. Of the whole damned world if she wanted to be, and he’d happily have licked the ground she walked on whilst she stamped on his tongue with the spike of her stiletto had she asked him.
Shimmying across, she picked up his abandoned tie, and unfurled it with another playful smile, then, eyes lowered again, she let the silky strip slide, drape, caress her curves. Simple. Easy. Aching. Then as she circled, bent, swept her hair across the floor, the most awesome eyeful of cleavage sent his off-the-scale libido rocketing to who knew where. And one scorch of that flash of a smile told him she knew exactly what she was doing to him.
This woman didn’t need anyone to save her from anything.
Cross stepping towards him now, one shoulder strap accidentally-on-purpose sliding its way to indecency and racking his erection through the pain threshold. Wiggling her hips, and sending a seismic shudder through him just by slithering the tie across his cheek. Hauling in the scent of her, and knowing this woman was bullet-proof, high incendiary. No way was she going to get hurt. And that knowledge let him right off the guilt hook. He’d have been whooping, but there were other more pressing matters.
‘I love that you’re going to strip for me.’ Growling his appreciation, and not able to resist running a finger up the delicious line of her spine as she paused with her back to him.
And then she was round, her thigh grating over his, her low laugh taunting in his ear. ‘This is about lust not sex, it’s the tease not the strip – if you want to see what’s underneath, you’ll have to undress me yourself.’
‘Now there’s an invitation.’ The pyramid of his erection, straining against his suit trousers, cranked up another notch as she lowered her eyes to devour it. ‘But two can play at that game, you aren’t the only one who can tease … ’
‘You wouldn’t … ’ She forced her thigh against his shaft, dispatching an unholy volley of pleasure rocketing through his body, as she raised a quizzical eyebrow at him. ‘ … would you?’
Not after that he wouldn’t. He might have done, another day, another time, but that nudge pushed him past the point of teasing. Easing to standing, spanning her waist with his hands, one twist and she was on the work surface, dress pushed high, her stocking tops sending his blood-pressure off the scale. Another twist and her knickers were history.
Locking onto the sweetest heat of her mouth, he grazed his thumb across the thin fabric of her dress. That had to be the sheerest of bras. As he found her nipples, pert, and panting for attention she leaned into him with a low moan.
‘I’m truly not falling for you Ed, but I do need … ’ Her voice was bleary as her flickering eyelids.
‘Yes..?’ Peeling down the strap of her dress, he captured one nipple, an ache throbbing in his groin, as he tugged it between his teeth, then sucked deeply.
‘You know the pleasure-max thing … ’ Her thighs were clamping hot around his hips now, as she thrust onto his stomach, skin silky above her stockings, her bottom sending him into spasm as she rode over the peak of his still-enclosed erecti
on.
‘Yes..? He watched her head slip backwards, her lips part as his fingers found her clit. Two fingers and she was clamping on him, her gentle rocking on his hand driving his desire to insane places.
‘A pleasure max, like, now would be good … ’ One husky high-voltage command, encouraging him.
Like now was how it was going to have to be. Thankfully he’d slipped a condom in his pocket.
Unzipping, harder than rock as he rolled on protection, pulling her to meet him, he nudged, edged, pushed, and then he was home, groaning with the pure unadulterated passion. Up to the hilt and plunging, her cries building as he thrust, she was driving him crazy. Her arms grappling around his shoulders, her legs locked around him, her feral groans rising as he drove into her, pushing him higher and higher. And then she was shuddering, hurling back her head, contracting onto him, and then wild, furious, and out of control his own release exploded.
***
‘You okay down there?’ Burying his face in her hair, he ignored the way the scent of her scalp was already sending new shivers down his spine.
One lazy post-coital clinch, her cheek resting heavy on his chest, and as he pushed back her hair a flash of shoulder and the curve of a bare breast sent another wave juddering down his spine, this time a seismic one. Damn his libido. What was it with Millie? Hot sex was supposed to make you satisfied, not desperate for more of the same. Immediately afterwards.
‘Sure.’ She gave a sniff, disentangled a hand to rub her nose. ‘That was great by the way, and the good news is I still don’t want to get involved. ’
‘Pleased to hear it.’ He gave a wry grin. ‘And the bad news is I still haven’t seen your tattoos properly, but maybe we can remedy that? Shall we go to bed?’
Hell of a trite line there, but who cared if it got him where he needed to be.
And bed was a million miles away from his earlier intentions, but he was far from finished here. If anything, he’d barely begun. Disentangling himself, he gave her hand a light tug in the direction of the door.
‘It has been a long day.’ She let out a sleepy sigh, stretched, but resisted his pull.
‘You can say that again.’ Hell, it only been this morning that he was scouring the village for her. Although sleep was the last thing on his mind now, dammit.
‘You sure you can trust me not to fall for you overnight then Mr Irresistible?’ Her pout twitched, as if she were biting back a smile. ‘We don’t want any broken hearts do we?’
Hell, she was mocking him here, big style, and he was taking it. Lapping it up. Right now he’d pretty much take anything she dished out if it meant getting her between the sheets.
‘I guess.’ One cover-all answer he hoped covered all aspects. Delivered with a dose of hundred watt smile, which slipped out all by itself, nothing to do with him.
That smile never failed to work its magic.
He stood his ground, waited, and raised an eyebrow. Fast would be good. Hoping that she wouldn’t fix on the ever-growing bulge beneath his fly. And then her resistance melted, and she was following him.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
‘I’M guessing you don’t spend that much time in the quarry then?’
Stretched out horizontally across the bed, where the after-breakfast sex had left them, Millie shifted her head on Ed’s stomach, luxuriating as he idly traced his finger diagonally down her back, following the tendrils of her tattoo.
Comfortable. Relaxed. Satiated. Well, almost satiated.
His deep sigh spread all the way down to her neck. ‘Bit of a random comment for a Sunday morning Miss Brown. But you’re right, these days I’m usually office-bound. It wasn’t always like that. I started at the rock face, but as I worked my way up I spent less and less time there.’ His voice trailed off with a regretful shrug, as he shuffled, adjusting his shoulders on the pillow he’d dragged over. ‘It’s a world-wide organisation, but mostly I’m at a screen, getting my kicks from the big deals and the big bucks, not the bangs.’
‘Usually in a suit then?’ She watched his amused nod, swallowed at the thought that he walked round looking that swoon-able on a daily basis. ‘So how come you were in the quarry the day you rescued me?’
‘Total one off, I’d bumped into Blake at my parents’ party a couple of weeks earlier.’ A flicker of unease ironed the folds from his cheeks. ‘Blake was opening up a new section of quarry, and I came back to see the first blast for old times’ sake. Blake and I go back a long way, he pulled me through my worst times.’ The grin he shot her swept away the serious undertones.
‘I see.’ Slow conversation, to hide from scarier thoughts. Like how much sex for fun could a person have, and why did she still want more? And why, despite the no strings thing, she yearned to know more about his darker side. ‘Were you bad when you were younger?’
‘I was an angry teenager, I’d crashed out of school. The rest of my family were blonde and diligent, perfect achievers, and here I was, a dark, volatile hell raiser. I guess I got my temper from my Dad.’ He shot her a rueful grimace. ‘Blake encouraged me to turn that negative energy, into something positive. I came into the company from the rough end, but the technology was fascinating, I developed that side, and now we’re world leaders in the field. Blake believed in me when no-one else could handle me. I owe him big time for that.’
‘Difficult children are the strongest characters, and in the end that’s a good thing, even if it’s rough along the way. You got your Dad’s hot temper, but I bet you got your strength from your mum.’
‘Why has my mother got anything to do with this?’
One indignant reply. One mother in need of defense. ‘I have a feeling she was strong, doing what she did.’ She chose to ignore his scowl. ‘Think about it, you’ll see my point.’
One disgusted growl. ‘Leave my mother out of this.’ Then he went back to scratching her tattoo, making her shiver as his nail followed the sinuous stems round her side, sliding over her hip, idly stroking the skin at the edge of her stomach.
Wow, a girl could get used to this.
He cleared his throat. ‘So, if it’s time for twenty questions, Millie, aka Amelia Brunswick Brown, why exactly are you disowning your family?’
Wham! Out of nowhere, and her stomach contracting, and not in a good way. Opening and closing her mouth like a guppy as she trawled her brain for an answer.
‘I told you already, I want to be independent.’ From his steely eyes, he knew she was flailing.
‘That’s a reason, not an explanation.’
Pay-back time, for pushing him.
‘Maybe I couldn’t take the way my parents wanted to dominate me, control my life. Take my tattoos – my mother hates them.’
All true, but a long way from the truth. How her parents tried to wrestle the most important decision of her life away from her. How she hated them for that, but how she hated herself more for letting it happen.
‘I don’t believe it’s about one tattoo.’
So he wasn’t buying it. Damn to that.
‘This is me trying to live for myself, take responsibility for my own decisions. If I have to be financially independent to be allowed to think and do what I want, I will. I see my family from time to time, I just don’t want them to support me.’ She flashed a smile in his direction, hoping talking around the subject was going to shut him up. ‘And living without the insulation of big money is a challenge. There are times when I miss the luxuries, but I’d rather be without them and be free. Giving stuff up isn’t so difficult. It makes life more real.’
And that was only half true. Some days she enjoyed it, others it was damned hard, like when she ached for her London life, but she saw that as penance.
‘I’ll take your word for that. I’m not giving up my Aston or my penthouses any time soon.’ He let out a hollow laugh.
‘At least it gets you off the hook completely.’
‘And what hook would that be?’
‘You worrying I was falling for you?’ S
he had to drive her point home here, even if it was close to the knuckle. ‘I’d never choose a man with money, because I’d never want to feel I was being bought or dominated. Ed from the quarry, I might have fallen for, Ed from the board room would be out of the question.’
Peering up at Ed, and just for a moment his brow furrowed. But then it was gone.
‘So, what do you say to showers then lunch?’ He was sitting bolt upright, already easing himself out from under her. ‘Can’t say we haven’t earned it.’
‘Great idea.’ She pushed herself up onto her elbow, expecting her smile to meet his mischievous grin half way, but he’d already turned. ‘Thanks. I’ll get ready.’
So that was abrupt. Here’s hoping he hadn’t caught the crestfallen note in her voice. No danger of that, given the way he was crashing around.
‘You can take the shower in the master suite.’ He was already half way into the en-suite bathroom in this room. ‘And see if you can do something about the mess whilst you’re there. It’s ridiculous we had to come into this suite because you’d trashed the main one. We can’t swap bedrooms every time you don’t feel like clearing up.’
A sudden attack from the tidy police? How they’d ended up in a different bedroom last night was a blur. She hadn’t thought it had anything to do with tidy rooms.
But he wasn’t there to ask.
Millie stared at the closed bathroom door, and reeled.
What the heck happened there? Pulling a sheet tight around her, she began to scour the floor for her dress and shoes.
***
Having a shower gave Millie time to reflect, and when she did think carefully about last night, she decided she could have ended up on the moon, and not been complaining. When someone did things like that to you – her body was thrumming now as she recalled O after shattering O – you really didn’t give a damn where you were. And looking at the state of the master bedroom when she emerged from the bathroom, although his sudden snappiness had caught her off guard, Ed did have a point. Even by her standards, the room was chaotic.