by Penny Jordan
He stepped out of his trousers and his black silk boxers in one go until he was naked from the top of his dark head to the flats of his large feet. He was ready for her in every way possible. Veins stood out on his arms as though he was straining. His jaw was sharp and his lips tightly clenched. His erection was quite simply glorious. And rather than let her simply admire he just kept on coming.
She tore her T-shirt over her head and the moment his knee hit the bed she was reaching up and wrapping a hand behind his neck and drawing him down to her.
He held himself away, only just, but enough so that he wouldn’t crush her with his heavy weight, while his mouth held back nothing, plundering hers with his tongue, until she felt deliciously bruised.
He lowered himself to her side so that he could free his hands. To caress her stomach, which quivered beneath his touch. To brush her hair from her neck before following through with an array of searing kisses. When he gently nudged aside the strap of her bra with the tip of his nose and scraped the very bottom of her neck his tenderness almost broke her.
‘So you are a shoulder girl,’ he murmured into her neck, before nipping lightly outwards until his teeth sank into the soft flesh just before her shoulder-bone.
Her head dropped back to the bed and she arched into him. ‘Who knew?’ she managed to say.
‘Well, if that works, I wonder…’ He reached behind her, unclipped her bra with one hand, slid it away, then threw it to the other side of the room. His eyes turned impossibly dark as they roamed over her breasts, which felt so very heavy against her chest.
‘Which one first?’ He lowered himself so that she could feel his hot breath whisper across her breasts. Her nipples hardened into tight peaks as she fought against the urge to grab him by the back of the head and pull him down to whichever breast was closest.
He went left, laying a row of kisses beneath until she could have cried out. His tongue darted out, leaving a trail of moisture until his mouth closed over her nipple. A spasm rocketed through her, lifting her hips off the bed.
He lightly grazed her with his teeth before moving over to the right breast and following the same pattern, which only made her ache more, knowing exactly what was coming next.
Once she was sure she could stand it no more, he began kissing down the sensitive inside of her arm. There was little she could do but let her arm hang limply in his care as wave after wave of warmth spilled outward from every touch of his mouth.
His hand trailed a gentle course along the beltline of her track pants, and then he blew across her naked stomach until a wave of agonising goose-bumps sprang up. Her hand flew to rub the skin prickles away but he stopped her.
‘Uh-uh. This part is mine now.’
She lifted her head enough to catch his eye. ‘Says who?’
‘Says the guy who is about to show you why you should stop yabbering and just let him do as he pleases.’
As he spoke his fingers stroked back and forth across her stomach, moving ever lower with each caress, until they began to push her pants lower and lower past her hips.
Her neck muscles gave way, her head collapsed, and her arm flopped over her eyes until all she could see was the backs of her eyelids. All she could hear was the heavy sound of her own breath. And all she could feel was the smooth slide of velour down her thighs, past her calves and off.
The central heating was on low to hold the cold autumn afternoon at bay. But her skin felt as if it were on fire. As if she was blushing from head to foot. Her blood vessels must have been on overload.
The bed shifted as Damien moved. Her imagination went crazy as she tried to foresee what he would do next. And just as she thought she couldn’t take the wait another second his hands closed around her feet.
His thumbs rubbed the soles, his fingers sliding against the muscles of her ankles until she sighed with the luscious pleasure of it. They moved up her calves, making her thank her lucky stars she’d shaved that morning. Once they hit her knees she began to shake. Her self-control broke down, inch by beautiful inch.
His caress was so gentle as his hands rounded her thighs, kneading ever so slightly before delving in between and pressing her legs until they fell apart. One hand continued up her side, his thumb brushing into her navel, then up her ribcage as he again rested beside her.
His mouth claimed hers in the very same instant his other hand reached the juncture between her thighs.
Her groan was swallowed by his insistent mouth, his searching tongue. She writhed beneath him, her senses confused as to whether to let her concentrate on the delicious sensation of his lips playing, oh, so gently, and, oh, so tenderly with hers, or to let go and give into the feel of his fingers touching her, stroking her, sliding against her flesh with ever so slightly increasing pressure and pace that her whole body thrummed.
She began to peak all too soon. She tilted her head sideways and begged him, ‘Wait.’
‘Not going to happen.’ His gravelly voice almost sent her over the edge all on its own.
‘I don’t want this to end,’ she said, her voice now a desperate whimper. But it was the truth. In her blissful state she could truly imagine holding back, slowing down, and finding a way to feel like this until the end of time.
‘Too bad,’ Damien said, then kissed her until she was completely breathless.
With that, she finally allowed herself to feel every ounce of pleasure. The kiss, the caress, the weight of him pressing against her came together as a slow boiling-point vibration coursing from her centre and spreading out through every nerve ending to the tips of her fingers and toes.
The hand over her eyes reached out and clung to his shoulder. Her right knee bent and spilled sideways until she was completely open to him, body and soul.
And the heat, and shakes, and pleasure and lack of control came to a head until her whole body went numb for one brief idyllic second before sensation returned and rolled through her like a tidal wave, destroying every shred of restraint in its wake, leaving her so ragged she had not even enough energy to lift a finger.
‘Open your eyes,’ Damien said an eon later. She struggled against the heavy weight of her eyelids before she was able to blink into the late afternoon light, which sent the cream walls in her room a bright burnt orange.
He looked deep into her eyes, and she was too shattered to hide what she felt for him. But what she saw in his eyes soon woke her up.
Burgeoning compassion. Genuine, honest to goodness care that he had in no way hurt her. Which meant that he believed he had the power within himself to do so. Which in turn meant that, not only was he arrogant as all get out, he also saw far more in her expression than she cared to reveal.
She broke eye contact, crossed her legs, lifted herself up onto her elbows and leaned up to kiss him, to run her tongue along his bottom lip before taking it between her teeth and tugging him until it must have hurt a little bit.
She reached out until she found the evidence of just how very turned on he still was. She looked up at him from beneath her eyelashes and said, ‘Your turn.’
And the look in his eyes changed. Concern transformed into heat. Desire. Self-interest. That she could handle.
‘Condom?’ he asked, and she pointed to the top bedside drawer. He reached out with one long arm, found what he was looking for, tore the packet open with his teeth and was sheathed and ready to go before she even had the chance to take another breath.
And then he pulled her to him, kissing her with newfound intensity, crushing her against his broad chest, wrapping his leg around her until she felt so small in his arms. If he continued doing this to her, making her feel so powerful and vulnerable all at once, she was terrified she might start to cry.
So she gathered every vestige of strength she had and rolled him over until she was lying on top of him, one leg casually thrown across his.
At first his face registered surprise, but then the gleam in his eyes took on more light as a sinful smile spread across his face. He rolled onto his back until
she lay fully atop him.
‘Helpful as always,’ she said.
He grinned, like the wolf just before he revealed himself as a villain to Little Red Riding Hood. ‘Mmm. Though I don’t know if there is a scout badge for my brand of helpfulness.’
She pushed herself into a sitting position, nudged herself against him until his eyes closed and his mouth fell open. ‘Next time I find myself up close and personal with a scout leader I’ll suggest it.’
His eyes flew open and his hands snuck out and grabbed her by the buttocks, stilling her, controlling her still even while he looked beyond ready to lose all control. ‘It’s not smart to tease me about being up close and personal with another man while I have you like this.’
‘You don’t have me,’ she said. ‘Not yet.’
She reached up and held her hot hair off her sweaty neck. Damien’s eyes zeroed in on her breasts and glazed over. She lifted onto her knees, and he groaned. Then she sank down over him until her eyes fell closed with bliss.
And he began to rock. The rhythm so easy, so unhurried, she gave in and went along for the ride.
He ran his palm down her front, moulding her left breast, then running lovingly along each rib before landing across her hip, his thumb resting at the juncture of where their bodies met. And there it stayed. Seemingly accidental, but so erotic Chelsea found her desire building with such unexpected and sudden force she fell back and grabbed a hold of his thighs.
The change in position only made the pleasure all the greater. For her and for him. She saw it in the darkening of his eyes. The sweat beads on his brow. The tendons straining in his neck. She felt it in the grip on her hips, in the impossible deepening pressure inside her.
The rocking soon quickened. The heat between them scorching until she too was lathered in a layer of sweat. She could taste it on her upper lip. Feel it cruelly tickling every inch of her hot skin.
‘Chelsea,’ he called out and it was enough to loosen any last withholding place inside her. She let her head fall back, pressed her hips into his. She left just enough room for his thumb to slide between them and as though he could read her every move he did as he was told.
Her whole body throbbed. Ached. Needle-sharp stings pricked her all over as a draught washed across her damp skin.
Then everything changed as Damien swelled inside her, as his thighs clenched beneath her hands and a primal roar tore through the heated silence.
With that she too let go, every sensation shrinking to the point where their bodies met before exploding in a burst of stars behind her eyes.
And as she finally fell apart in his arms, her cheeks burned hot with sweat and carefully hidden tears.
CHAPTER TEN
DAMIEN lay beside Chelsea as again she slept.
The faded top sheet covered her body, revealing only her smooth creamy neck and her soft jaw hidden partially behind feathers of her caramel-coloured hair. He braced himself on one arm and reached out, brushing her hair from her cheek, letting it slide over his fingers, smooth as silk.
She moved beside him. The sheet over her lithe body slid and shifted and settled until one bare breast was naked to the night air.
He stared at it like a drowning man would stare at a lifebelt, fighting the overwhelming desire to reach out and run a hand down her side. To wake her. To take her again.
Instead he ran a fast hand over his unshaven jaw, abrading the skin on his palm. For as it turned out the events of the evening had done nothing to quell his desire for her. It had only made him want more.
She was on the verge of waking. He should go.
He’d known her, what, two days? Three? They’d crammed a hell of a lot of getting-to-know-you stuff into that time, but it certainly hadn’t made him take some dramatic about-turn in his life. He’d been on the market for a fling and he’d found one. It would be cruel to allow Chelsea to hope she was dealing with any other kind of man, especially after what he’d seen in her eyes as she lay sated in his arms.
Gathering his will-power, he slid out of her bed, found his suit trousers draped over an upholstered chair in the corner. He pulled them on for the third day running, zipped up, left his top button undone, then sat in the chair and watched her for who knew how long until she stirred again, this time her eyes flickering open.
‘Hi,’ she said, her voice husky.
He clenched his hands together to stop himself from bolting back into bed with her and damning the consequences.
She half sat up, demurely taking the sheet with her, her creamy skin lit blue by the moonlight spilling through her gauzy curtains. ‘Is everything okay?’
Okay? No, it was not okay. Everything was moving too fast. They were both getting in over their heads. If he saw her again he’d only continue half-heartedly and end up hurting her. Unless…
Unless he was completely honest right now. Unless the boundaries and limits were spelt out in absolute final detail. ‘I want to see you again,’ he blurted before he could change his mind.
Her eyes softened, darkened. ‘So come get me.’
He stuck a fingernail into the palm of the other hand to keep himself grounded. ‘Not yet,’ he said, and her eyes widened enough that he knew she was now fully awake.
He took a deep breath, filling his lungs to bursting point before he said what he needed to say. ‘Chelsea, when I told you earlier that I recently came out of a bad relationship, I should have made myself perfectly clear.’
She blinked up at him, so sweet, so undeserving of what he was about to ask of her.
‘The relationship was fine. Bonnie and I dated, exclusively, for two and a half years. We lived together for the past several months. Her parents know my parents. Our work timetables meshed neatly. I thought everything was perfectly comfortable. Until a month ago she gave me an ultimatum. Marry her or leave. It took me less than half a second to decide.’
She watched him carefully for a few moments before saying, ‘Please tell me you left.’
He laughed despite himself. She was such a trouper. But she also couldn’t hide the deep breaths, which proved she wasn’t as ignorant of what he was trying to tell her as she made out.
‘I left,’ he said. ‘So fast she barely had time to call me a heartless bastard more than three times before I was out the door.’
‘I don’t blame her. Sounds like you acted like a total cad,’ she said, flicking her hair over her shoulder in a move that was pure self-defence. ‘So why are you telling me this now?’
‘Because I came into this with no expectations and now, even if it does indeed make me a heartless bastard, after last night I know I’m not yet ready to walk away from you.’
At that a slight smile tugged at her cheeks, at her soft lips; he did his all to not lose himself there and dragged his eyes upwards.
‘But one day I will walk away. It’s my modus operandi. I’m being utterly honest when I tell you that I’m not built for anything lasting or exclusive. It’s not in my genetic make-up. All I have to offer is good company when it suits us both and, I think we can agree, some pretty great sex.’
He let that last word hang on the air, hoping it might be the thing to sway her. It sure swayed him.
She didn’t say anything. Didn’t agree, or disagree. She didn’t cry, or rant, or toss her hair and feign indifference. She just watched him, her eyes steady on his as she let his statement sink in.
‘I could be making a total ass of myself,’ he said, giving himself and her one last out, ‘even bringing this up. You could well have been ready to tell me to sod off and never see you again. And if that’s the case, I wouldn’t blame you either.’
He felt enormous relief at having set the ground rules before this went any further. Though his lungs felt tighter and tighter with every passing second as he awaited her verdict.
Finally, she shifted, lifting herself upright until the sheet fell away, leaving her naked to the waist. Then she lifted the sheet for him, welcoming him back into her bed.
We
ak sunlight tickled the backs of Chelsea’s eyelids. A self-indulgent smile made its way across her face before she even opened her eyes.
She stretched her beautifully aching limbs and reached out to find the other side of the bed was empty. Cool. Ruffled to prove she hadn’t dreamt the events of the night, but devoid of Damien all the same.
She slid her naked form from the bed and grabbed her gown before heading out of the bedroom only to discover the apartment was silent. There was no gorgeous dark-haired man sitting in the kitchen nook, no newspaper splayed out over her small table, no breakfast waiting for her.
She could picture such a scene so clearly it felt like more than a memory. Or a wish. But the reality she was given was that he wasn’t there.
Which was fine. Really. Especially since the tenderness with which he’d made love to her when he’d come back to bed after his little speech had tempered the difficult words, and she’d fallen asleep assured that not kicking him out on his ear had been the right move.
She ignored the nagging, dissenting buzzing in her head as she shuffled into the kitchen, where a white folded piece of paper lay atop the coffee percolator. He’d left her a note. A smile stretched across her face until she noticed the percolator was cold.
If she was to be consistent and continue with the ‘actions speak louder than words’ mantra she was clinging to, no matter what the note said the cold percolator told her something far more potent.
Damien had foregone his usual aromatic morning brew as he hadn’t wanted to wake her. To face her. To kiss her goodbye.
The buzzing in her ears soon became a twisting in her heart as the enormity of what she’d agreed to bubbled over her.
She closed her eyes and clung to the kitchen bench. ‘You daft mug. You know your feelings for the guy are already far too strong to accept something so casual. Of course kicking him out on his ear was what needed to be done. But, no, you just had to have him again.’
Her mobile rang and she was so tense she jumped in fright, the note crumpling in her palm.
She checked the number. It was him. She took a deep breath, put on her smoothest phone voice, and answered. ‘Chelsea speaking.’