by Greta Milán
The trouble was that the man standing there was someone completely different from the man she’d known the night before. His standoffishness had returned, reminding her of the arrogant photographer she’d met at the opening.
Despite her unease, Julie gave him a light kiss on the cheek when they arrived at her building. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Bastian, this is Gabriel,” Julie said, “a good friend of mine from law school.”
Seeming undeterred by Bastian’s reserve, Gabriel offered his hand with a grin. Bastian shook his hand listlessly.
“I should get myself a pair of those,” said Gabriel, glancing at his gloves.
A small muscle twitched beneath Bastian’s eye, but he said nothing.
“Would you like to come up and have some coffee with us?” Julie asked Gabriel innocently, praying he’d decline.
Gabriel gave her an understanding smile. “No, thanks. I’ve got to go. But I’ll see you Friday at the party.”
“Sounds good,” said Julie with relief.
Gabriel gave Julie a farewell hug. “Good to see you again, querida.”
“You too. Give my love to the others.”
“I certainly will.” Gabriel nodded to Bastian and left.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Bastian said tonelessly, “I’d hate to spoil your evening.”
“You haven’t. I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Is he the one?”
“Which one?” asked Julie with a frown.
“Your escort for the family party.”
Julie’s eyes widened in surprise. “No, it’s not like that. Gabriel and I just used to study together. We happened to run into each other on the street.”
“So that means you’re going to your father’s party with another man,” observed Bastian.
“Not necessarily,” began Julie. “I was going to ask you, but my family can be a bit difficult and I wasn’t sure . . . I didn’t want to rush into things.”
“So you decided to give priority to another man,” said Bastian.
“Of course not.”
Bastian laughed and took a step back. It was obvious he didn’t believe her.
“Now wait a minute,” said Julie, reaching for his hand. The leather of his glove felt cold in her warm fingers and reminded her of the reason for his mistrust.
He squeezed her hand briefly before releasing her and taking a deep breath. “I’m no good at this.”
“Good at what?”
“Sharing,” he stated bluntly.
She stepped up to him and raised a hand to his face in an attempt to direct his gaze toward her. Once she was sure she had his full attention, she said softly, “No one’s asking you to.”
She drew his face down to hers and laid her lips on his. Although he seemed to return her kiss reluctantly at first, his resistance gradually tapered off. She felt him returning to her.
CHAPTER 15
“So will you come to this stupid family party with me?” Julie asked breathlessly after pulling away from him.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“But I’d love it if you did.” She put an affectionate arm around him. “I would’ve asked you yesterday, but I was afraid of scaring you away.”
He pressed his lips to her brow and ran his hand gently down her back. He couldn’t believe what she was saying.
She leaned back against his arm and studied him critically. “So?” she insisted.
“I’ll come,” he decided in a daze.
Julie beamed. “Now that we’ve cleared that up, can we go inside, please?” she asked. “I’m so cold.”
They settled themselves comfortably on her sofa, sitting next to each other with a blanket over them both. She had lit the candles on her coffee table, poured two glasses of wine, and put on some soft jazz in the background. Julie handed Bastian a plate with a reasonable portion of glass noodles, observed closely by Spot.
“If I’d known you were coming, I’d have ordered more. I know how much you can put away.”
“Sorry I didn’t call you back earlier.”
“I’m just happy you’re here now.” She offered Spot a small piece of chicken. The cat snapped it from her hand greedily and crawled away under the sofa with her catch.
“When did you leave this morning?” Julie asked, winding noodles onto her fork.
“Around eight o’clock.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Do you always wake up so early?”
“No, but from the look of horror on your face, I take it you’re a serial late sleeper,” he joked.
“Whenever I get the opportunity. But you could have woken me up anyway.”
“You looked so content.”
“I was content.”
Her eyes sparkled, and he paused, entranced. Good God. Looking at her in the candlelight, her cheeks still flushed from the cold, almost robbed him of the ability to think. All the more so since they were talking about lying asleep together. Bastian awkwardly stuffed some noodles into his mouth.
“What did you do today?” he asked stiffly.
“I had to go visit my parents. It’s a command performance. Every Sunday, my sister, her family, and I are condemned to go and listen to my mother’s words of wisdom over a cup of coffee.”
“Sounds like fun,” said Bastian.
“You’ve got no idea,” replied Julie with a pained grin. As they ate their noodles, she described her mother’s latest acquisitions with an exuberant show of bewilderment. Once she had finished, she placed the empty plates on the table and moved closer to him, not appearing to think twice about curling up in his arms. He stroked her hair, lost in thought.
“Ouch,” squeaked Julie. Bastian looked at her in confusion. His leather gloves had gotten tangled in some stray hairs.
“Sorry,” he murmured.
Julie tilted her head to free the strands, then looked at his gloves. “Can we agree that you take them off at least when we’re here together?” she asked softly.
Bastian stiffened, but as his desire to feel her was overwhelming. He agreed to her request. Julie snuggled back into his arms as soon as he’d thrown them on the table.
“Better,” she whispered.
He tucked one hand out of sight beside his lap and resumed stroking her hair with the other. He would have thought that her thick brown hair would feel coarse or dry, but it was as soft as her skin. Julie let out a relaxed sigh beneath his touch. Lulled by the soft candlelight and quiet music, he felt more relaxed than he had in ages. Julie’s hand wandered slowly over his belly, up to his chest. God, she felt fantastic.
“How was your day?” murmured Julie.
Bastian suddenly felt as though someone had poured a bucket of cold water over him.
“You really want to know?” he replied with a frustrated laugh. “Awful!”
“Do you want to tell me about it?” she asked, letting her hand rest on his chest.
“I was at the hospital all day with Elena’s brother, Felix. He’s got the same condition I do, but worse,” he explained as he wound a lock of her hair around his finger. “You remember what I told you about the different types?”
“He’s the one with the severe version of the lighter form,” she said. “Isabelle’s told me about him.”
Bastian tensed beneath her. “What did she say?”
“She doesn’t know much. Only that his situation’s very difficult and that Elena gives him a lot of support. She doesn’t know him personally.” Julie looked up at him. “Is it really that bad?” she asked.
“It’s hard to describe. It’s not the same as in my case. Although I get hurt every now and then, people can touch me without any serious consequences. With Felix, even the slightest contact is enough to hurt him. A clap on the shoulder, an excessively strong handshake. H
e can’t walk more than two hundred yards. His body’s bandaged more or less from head to toe, partly to protect him. But he gets hurt anyway. Two days ago he fell and hurt himself pretty badly. He’ll have to spend the next few days in the hospital until he’s recovered.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
She ran her hand up his chest over his collarbone to his neck. Her small, gentle hands began stroking his cheek, lightly grazing his five-o’clock shadow. He nestled his face against her hand and explored her soft palm with his lips.
“How long have you known each other?” Julie asked.
He pressed a kiss to her palm before answering her. “For about five years. We met in the Department of Dermatology of the university hospital. We were both there for a routine examination.”
Julie reached for his other hand and began to play with his fingers. As she said nothing, he continued.
“There had been some emergency that day, so we had to sit in the waiting room for ages. Felix was so bored after ten minutes that he started chattering at me and never stopped.” Bastian laughed as he remembered. “At first, I was a bit irritated, but he didn’t let that stop him. When Felix’s name was finally called two hours later, we were in the middle of a heated discussion about the Formula 1 season. He was a McLaren fan.” Bastian snorted. “No one’s perfect, I guess. But as soon as I saw his enthusiasm, I knew I liked him.”
It had taken a long time for Bastian to open up to him. He had occasionally failed to keep his feelings under control, and it was like a volcano erupting when that happened. It had been particularly bad in the early days, but Felix had stuck to their friendship like glue and trusted that Bastian would one day get back on an even keel.
For Bastian, it was a completely new feeling to have found a brother, not only because of their shared skin condition, but above all because they laughed at the same jokes and shared the same fears.
“Which Formula 1 team are you a fan of?” asked Julie.
“None. I’m not as committed as Felix. I’m just fascinated by the sport in general. The speed of the track, the teams’ tactics, the drivers’ talent.”
“Have you ever seen a race live?”
“Three years ago, Felix, Elena, and I went to a Grand Prix.”
Bastian told Julie all about that day: the pits, the cars, the drivers, the rostrum—to his own great surprise, sparing her no details. It had been one of the few perfect days of his life. He and Elena had planned the trip in secret well in advance. They’d bundled Felix into the backseat of the car at dawn and driven for three hours to the racetrack. Although they had steadfastly refused to reveal where they were going, Felix worked it out for himself when they got off the freeway and broke into childish euphoria. His mood darkened briefly when Bastian pulled a wheelchair out of the trunk upon arrival, but since hours of standing would have been far too much for him, he gritted his teeth and gave in. Even the weather had cooperated that day, and a lightly clouded sky prevented the sun from beating down on them. He could still feel the joy of that day as he described it to Julie.
“Is it really as loud as people say?” asked Julie.
“We used earplugs,” he said with a lopsided grin.
Julie giggled. “Wimp.”
Bastian raised a scornful eyebrow. “Are you calling me a sissy?”
“Or coward even,” she said helpfully.
Quick as lightning, he grabbed her and pushed her down beneath him on the sofa. And then he did something he had never done in his life before: he tickled her.
Julie wriggled, laughing and squealing, but her defense was not strong enough to worry him. He felt her every movement beneath him, registered every inch of skin she bared as she struggled. When he finally let her go, her chest was heaving, but he knew it was a result of the exertion of their fight. Entranced by the desire in her eyes, he brought his face so close to hers that their noses almost touched.
He wanted her. He wanted her so much that he became aware of a completely different kind of pain.
“I surrender,” she gasped breathlessly.
“Excellent,” he whispered against her lips. Even with all the willpower in the world, he could not have held back any longer.
CHAPTER 16
He had kissed her.
He had touched her.
He had loved her.
Like a starving man.
Julie’s skin tingled all over. She’d just had the best sex of her life. And what happens when a woman realizes that?
She wants more.
Her eyes closed, she felt for Bastian but instead found an empty space. Dumbfounded, she sat up abruptly and flinched. Good God. Her muscles ached in places she didn’t even know she had muscles. Which clearly meant she needed more practice.
She looked around. Spot was curled up asleep by her feet while Bastian sat, fully clothed, on the edge of the bed, looking at her with watchful eyes. He must have been watching her sleep. She hoped she hadn’t drooled on her pillow.
“Good morning,” she said, pulling the blankets up under her chin. She was embarrassed to be fully naked beside him, though she realized that was a bit ridiculous after the night they’d just spent together.
“Good morning.”
“What time is it?” she asked, staring skeptically at the pale light penetrating the drawn curtains.
“A little before eight.”
She let out a pained sigh.
The corners of his mouth twitched into a crooked smile. He leaned forward to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear and kissed her gently. “I don’t really go for clichés,” he murmured against her lips, “but right now, I can’t think of anything more appropriate than to tell you that you look beautiful when you’re asleep.”
“I’d like to say the same about you, but I’d have to see you sleeping first,” she teased, with a lightheartedly disappointed glance at his clothes. “And much to my regret, you have other ideas.”
Bastian’s expression darkened, and he drew back tensely. “I’ve got to go,” he said flatly. “I’ve got an appointment at the gallery in a little while.”
“Oh.” Julie pulled her blankets tighter. She couldn’t help but feel he was running away from her. She avoided his eyes uneasily. A tense silence spread between them, until Bastian finally cleared his throat.
“How long are you working today?”
“My shift ends at eight.”
“I could come to pick you up,” he offered.
Relief flooded through her. “That’d be lovely.”
“Great.” He leaned forward again to give her a farewell kiss.
She threw her arms around him hopefully, pulled him down onto the bed, and lost herself in the heat he radiated. The pressure of his weight on her reawakened her desire. As her kiss became more urgent, his hands began moving slowly through her hair, digging gently into her scalp. The overnight stubble of his beard rasped gently over her sensitive skin. The taste of him was so intoxicating that she could no longer hold back. She slid her hands boldly beneath his sweater, but Bastian flinched suddenly at her touch.
Breathing heavily he laid his forehead against hers. “I really do have to go.” Something indefinable flickered briefly in his green eyes, but before Julie could figure out what it meant, he got it back under control. He pushed himself up off the bed.
“See you tonight,” he said roughly and turned to leave.
“See you later.” She tried to regain her composure as she watched him leave. Bastian had almost left the room when she called out louder than necessary, “I’m looking forward to it.”
The longing that reverberated through her words scared her with its intensity. She pressed her lips together, embarrassed. They still tasted of his kiss.
Apparently surprised by her words, Bastian turned in the doorway. “Me too,” he replied, grinning, and left.
Julie listened to the front door close and let herself sink back into the pillows. Spot crept up onto her stomach, purring loudly. As she ruffled the cat’s fur, she closed her eyes and lost herself in memories of the night before.
In hindsight, the only thing she regretted was that they had been enveloped in complete darkness, which meant that she could feel him, but not see him. After their roughhousing on the sofa, he had lifted her up as if she weighed no more than a child and carried her into the bedroom where he removed her clothing one article at a time. He covered each place he conquered with kisses until she had eventually pulled his sweater over his head. She recalled that his forearm was still bandaged. Although she had initially been tentative, as she feared hurting him, he had quickly dispelled her worries. He was evidently a lover of the giving kind, and she had enjoyed every second.
Julie opened her eyes and stared at the blankets. He had felt simply wonderful. But had she touched him at all? His movements had substantially limited her reach, and Julie wondered whether there hadn’t been an element of calculation behind his actions. There was no doubt he was insatiable, but had he lost control at any point? She wasn’t sure. She would definitely pay more attention next time.
She stretched and got up to shower. Feeling like a new person, she then slipped into a comfortable pair of jeans and a plain shirt before settling down on the sofa with a cup of milky coffee. She sent a message to Jo to see about meeting up. After all, she owed her sister a few answers.
Just as she was gathering the strength to give her apartment a little spring cleaning, her doorbell rang. She hurried to the intercom.
“Aren’t you impressed I didn’t just let myself in?” Isabelle chirped into the speaker.
Julie had to smile as she buzzed down to open the door. A minute later, Isabelle stood before her, out of breath, examining her critically.
“You’ve had sex!” she observed. As she had so many times in her life, Julie cursed her friend for her perceptiveness. “Here I am, calling around to make sure that you’re still alive after three days’ silence, and what do I find but a satisfied smile on your lips.” She shook her head disapprovingly and peered over Julie’s shoulder into the apartment. “Are you going to let me in, or do you have a naked man waiting between your sheets?”