One Forever Kiss (Affair Without End Book 4)

by Susan Ward

“I’ll see you in New York? Maybe get together some of the old gang. Dinner. Like we used to do.”

  Her smile grew larger. “I’d like that.”

  He started to step away from her and I sprang back out of sight, though it wasn’t what I wanted to do.

  I waited for the sound of Yuri leaving.

  Nothing.

  I glanced carefully from the bedroom.

  She’d followed him to the door.

  He kissed her on the head. “A lot of us loved Gustavo and we all still love you. Don’t forget that.”

  She curled into his chest, her cheek pressed against him. “Yuri, my dear friend, I’d be lost without you.”

  The door bolted behind him.

  I counted to ten in my head, hoping to make it seem like I hadn’t spied on them, before I joined her.

  My movement startled her.

  She whirled from the door to face me.

  “What was that all about?” I asked casually, sinking down on a chair.

  “You already know,” she stated, annoyed, and retrieved a cigarette from the coffee table. She lit it and then lifted her chin to stare directly at me. “I saw you watching. Listening.”

  We both knew she was right so there was no point in pretending otherwise.

  I shrugged. “I thought he’d left. I saw him and excused myself before I interrupted anything.”

  She floated down on the couch. She arched a brow. “Anything?”

  She packed enough bite in how she said that for it to sting. Partly because it was true: seeing them together made me think a lot of things, not the least of which was how right Yuri looked with her. Underscoring naturally how wrong I must look with her in comparison.

  I flushed. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “That’s how it sounded. Sometimes you’re very obvious in what you’re thinking, Jackson.”

  “Well, not obvious enough, otherwise we’d have gone to bed together last night.”

  With her cigarette clutched between index and middle finger, she wagged it in front of her. “No, why you came to my room, what you wanted, what you thought was going to happen was obvious. It’s also why you didn’t get it.”

  I wasn’t sure if that was her being honest or her being playful. If it was honest, I didn’t like it, so I set course for flirtatious again.

  “No. Wrong. We didn’t end up in bed because I didn’t try to. If I had made a move on you, Lena, we would have. Don’t ever doubt it.”

  Then she did the unthinkable: she smiled.

  “I like you, Jackson Parker. You’re adorable. What did you order for breakfast?”

  I frowned. How the hell did she know that I called room service?

  She laughed. “All men order breakfast in the morning after spending the night with a woman if they know they’re not going to bed. It makes me wonder if all of you are taught how to romance a girl from the same book.”

  I tried—I really did—not to grin but I couldn’t help it because I was relieved she was amused, though this time wrong. I’d ordered breakfast in hopes of sometime soon going to bed with her. And I should have probably been a little offended by the condescending “same book” comment.

  All men in the morning.

  What the hell did she mean to imply by that one?

  “I also sent for someone so my car could be retrieved from the theater. But since I’m obvious, you probably already know that.”

  “No. That one I didn’t know.” She stomped out her cigarette then peeked up at me from beneath inky lashes. “And I never said I’d spend the day with you.”

  “But you never said you wouldn’t. So, again, me being hopeful.”

  A knock on the door interrupted us—the breakfast I’d ordered, probably.

  She started making her way toward the bedroom.

  “Get that, Jack, and just pour me coffee. I never eat in the morning.”

  My car was parked in the lot below by the time we finished breakfast, and for a girl who didn’t eat in the morning, she did a darn good job cleaning her plate. True, the portions were small and arranged elegantly the way five-star restaurants like to starve you, but she ate every bite and smiled at me as she did it.

  We went to the lobby via the service elevator again, at her insistence. Lena looked breathtaking, but almost like she was dressed to be a character in an Ian Fleming book. Black cropped pants, black flats, black sleeveless sweater, pearls around her neck, paisley print scarf tied stylishly around her curls, and giant black sunglasses half hiding her gorgeous face.

  No makeup.

  Just lipstick.

  Women didn’t wear that much black all at once on the coast and never in the daytime.

  If she’d wanted to be inconspicuous with me she’d made the wrong move.

  Not that it bothered me. It didn’t matter if every pair of eyes in town were glued on us everywhere we went.

  She was stunning.

  I handed my ticket to the valet, and realized I hadn’t even kissed her yet. Jeez, I’d been with her ten hours and hadn’t even made a first move, let alone a second.

  I hadn’t even tried to.

  Stupid, Jack. Stupid.

  I shifted my gaze to find her standing close beside me.

  I couldn’t imagine what I was waiting for.

  I was about to step in to her when my Porsche, top already down for the sunny day, rolled to a stop. The attendant sprang out, holding out my keys, then nearly stumbled when he noticed the vision at my side.

  “There you go, sir,” he said, his eyes locked on Lena even as I pressed a bill into his palm. Annoyed—not the least of which with myself—I moved quickly to open the passenger door for her because the valet seemed unable to do anything at this point but stand rooted on the spot, staring at her.

  She was almost into the car when she paused and turned to face me as she curled her fingers on the top of the door between us. “By the way, Jack, thank you for last night and thank you for this morning. You’re lovely company.”

  I flushed because her husky voice was filled with enough suggestion for our gawker to assume a multitude of things with that. There was a frustrated certainty she was just toying with me—and the attendant—for her own amusement and then Lena confirmed it.

  She eased up on her tiptoes to claim me with a kiss that was searing. The gentle pressure of her mouth moved against mine in a sensual glide unlike anything I’d ever known before. Erotically light, knowing and sweet, and instantly blood boiling.

  I would have crushed her body into mine right then and there except the car door was between us, and when the touch of her tongue teased my lips between the gentle moves of her mouth, pure agony shot through my veins and elsewhere.

  She eased back, touched my gaping mouth lightly with an index finger, then sank down into the seat, staring up at me with a dazzling smile on her face.

  Yep, she was messing with me.

  The car door being between us was no accident.

  It kept her in control of the kiss.

  The kiss—just another of her unpredictable, capricious moments for her own amusement.

  I didn’t know what my response to that should be, so I said, “Cute, very cute,” as I shook my head at her.

  She lowered her glasses only enough so I could see her eyes. “What?”

  “You know what,” I chided, and she puckered her lips to hold back a smile.

  I closed her door then settled in the driver’s seat.

  “You know, for a woman who wants to maintain discretion, you’re your own worst enemy at times.”

  Her brows crinkled. “Discretion? What are you talking about?”

  Shaking my head, I turn onto the main beachfront road. “First you have me hide when Yuri arrives, then you kiss me in front of the hotel in clear view of everyone.”

  “Didn’t you like the kiss?”

  I rolled my eyes. “You know I did. Still, it’s confusing. Everything about you is confusing. You’re an exasperating woman at times.”


  She laughed, her husky purr—amused—then made a pretty pout. “I’m nothing of the kind. First, I didn’t have you hide from Yuri. I just wanted privacy, that’s all. Boy, you do have a suspicious mind, Jackson. As for discretion, I can’t imagine what sort of thoughts you have in that head of yours now. There’s nothing to be discreet about yet.”

  I was driving up the waterfront, trying to figure out how to deal better with her, when she asked, “Why are you smiling?”

  Damn, I was smiling.

  “You didn’t say never. You said ‘yet.’ I’m hopeful again.”

  She laughed. “Always a quick retort. God, you’re delightful.”

  Quick. I felt anything but quick with her. In fact, her kiss only confirmed how far out of my depth I was to even try to get something going with her. She was a mature woman in all ways, and it was clearer—and more intimidating—after having been kissed by her.

  “I know it’s impolite to ask, Lena, but after the way you kissed me I am wondering. How old are you?”

  “What do you mean the way I kissed?”

  “Settle down. It wasn’t a criticism. In fact, it’s a compliment. It was different. That’s all. It made me wonder why you’re with me and how old you are.”

  She straightened in her seat. “You are direct, aren’t you, Jack? Interesting comment, followed by a rude question. Though amusing. How old do you think I am?”

  I shrugged. “Twenty-two. Twenty-three tops.”

  “Oh, Jack. I don’t know whether to laugh or ignore the question or kiss you again.” We were stopped at an intersection and as I looked at her I knew my preference in the options, but a car honked—green light—and I had to start driving. “I’m twenty-eight. Are you shocked? Do you want to take me back to the hotel and dump me now?”

  Jesus Christ…

  “Why are you smiling?” she asked, annoyed.

  Damn. I was smiling. Full grin.

  “I’m doing better in this than I thought I was.”

  She rolled her eyes at me, made one of her quick, exasperated purrs, and then said, “God, you are a frustrating boy. Never the reaction I expect to anything.”

  My hand closed over hers, bringing her fingers to my lips. “You are an interesting woman. And no, I’m not shocked and I don’t want to dump you at the hotel.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I watched her lean her head back against the rest and tilt her face toward the sun.

  “Where are you taking me, Jack?”

  “You said you wanted to see the city.”

  “No. You thought I wanted to see the city. I just wanted to spend the day with you.”

  I stole a quick glimpse of her, unsure I’d heard her correctly and definitely not liking that it felt like she was playing with me again. Then she melted into me across the console and lay her head on my shoulder, her arm wrapped snugly around mine with fingers spread wide atop my hand.

  There are moments in your life you label as perfect. That was my first with Lena.

  Chapter Nine

  I didn’t know what to do next, so I took her on a long drive I’d done a hundred times for the senator’s VIP visitors. What my dad called the Jack charming the donors’ tour.

  I definitely needed a way to speed up my pursuit of Lena and, since everything thus far had failed, all I had left was being charming. There was a downside I hadn’t anticipated to making her happy and hearing her laugh all day; it turned the ache in my cock unmerciful and unrelenting in a way no girl had ever managed before.

  By midafternoon I’d run out of things to show her, and we were walking on State Street, hand in hand, looking like any other couple. But of course, we weren’t, and this was no average first date, though hand holding in the center of town, staring in shop windows with a girl was pretty good first date stuff. Or so Georgie thought. I didn’t date, remember? But I was too quickly running out of things to keep her with me, and that one kiss was still all I’d gotten, but I was definitely beyond ready for more.

  How does a guy get an experienced woman into bed? It seemed near impossible to do when it should have been easier. The way she kissed me told me she was no novice at sex, and better, that she enjoyed it.

  Nothing about her history mattered to me, not with the way she made me feel, even though she’d dropped enough subtle comments that I was pretty sure Gustavo Reyes wasn’t her first and only lover. I hated the thought that Yuri might have been with her. And I didn’t want to know what other affairs she’d had.

  For all her taint and mystery, she was perfect in my eyes, and I wanted nothing more than to have her. But even after a full day with her, I was no closer to solving the larger mystery: how to get a woman like Lena into bed.

  She tugged on my hand, cutting short my thoughts, and pulled me to a storefront window. She tapped a nail against the glass. “I want one of those.”

  I frowned. “Really?”

  She nodded. We were in front of a Mexican bakery and she was staring in like children do at the ice cream store.

  “What do you call that?” she asked.

  “Churros.”

  Her brows went up and she repeated the word, accent wrong but captivating. “What is it made of?”

  “Just sugar and cinnamon. It’s nothing special.”

  “Well, it’s special to me. I’ve never had a Mexican pastry and I want one.”

  I laughed at her excited demand, and stepped in to her, my body pressed against her back. “Wouldn’t you rather go someplace nice for dinner instead? We haven’t eaten since breakfast. You must be hungry.”

  She shook her head. “No. I never eat dinner. I eat only pastries, and that looks delicious.”

  Shot down on the only plan I had left: a romantic meal in a romantic place and hopefully some romance after.

  She dragged me into the store, ordered four, and while I paid she eagerly grabbed the bag.

  She took a bite, savoring her swallow as though it were the most incredible thing ever, and the movement of her lips while eating unavoidably provoked my sexual imagination.

  As we walked outside, she licked her lips and held the churros against my mouth. When I took a bite she smiled and did another one of her sexy tastings of her treat, followed by running her tongue to catch specks of sugar and cinnamon on her chin.

  As she dropped the bag into a trash can, she said, “There. We’ve had dinner. Now take me back to the hotel, Jackson. I want to go to bed with you.”

  My heart jolted against my chest so hard I nearly passed out from the sudden loss of oxygen. It was then I realized she’d walked us back to my car without my knowing it. Even better, I realized she’d been thinking the same things I had all day, and I hadn’t grasped it.

  After that, I couldn’t keep my hands or lips off her. Not during the drive back to her hotel or as we raced through the hotel to the elevator for her room.

  In the elevator, in between laughter, she roamed my body with an unending stream of kisses and touches that made it damn hard not to pin her to the wall and have her there. We were devouring each other with our mouths, panting and straining our bodies into each other when the doors opened.

  She took me to the bedroom, kissing me with every step, then pushed me back on the bed and stared down at me like a lust-mussed goddess in a way that warned, whatever I thought being with her would be like…oh, Jackie boy, you are wrong. She was definitely worth all those maddening hours trying to figure her out.

  Somewhere she’d lost her sunglasses and scarf, and as she pulled off her shirt, I won’t lie, I nearly came then. Too much anticipation was a humiliating thing for a guy, but seeing a body like that I was a goner. The problem was I couldn’t tear my eyes from her. She owned me completely from that moment on and I hadn’t even made love to her yet.

  She was unimaginably beautiful. It was amazing what a few extra years on a girl could do to her figure. Lush, generous breasts in a lacy black bra, small waist, smooth, flat stomach, and long, graceful limbs. Just the right amount of curve and slope
everywhere. And the thought that I was going to see her, all of her, as I imagined it, lying beneath me wearing only those pearls—

  Damn.

  I closed my eyes.

  There were just enough beads leaking from my dick that—

  I heard a soft purring laugh, but I didn’t open my eyes, even though she let me know she thought my tightly closed lids were amusing. But I couldn’t open them. One glimpse at her would finish what I was battling to stop.

  The bed shimmied beneath me as she stretched out beside me, and her mouth crashed into mine as her fingers trailed down my chest to my waist.

  She got my belt unfastened, the fly opened, and the zipper down without ever missing a beat with her kiss. Her cinnamon spice tongue darted into my mouth, twirling and stroking mine in a way I felt all the way down to my erection.

  I needed to get out of my pants. Now.

  I needed to open my eyes.

  I needed…

  Groaning into her mouth, my hips flexed upward when her fingers closed around my cock, and while the strokes were glorious, I’d hoped for something better than a hand job. The problem was I could barely move to change any of it.

  I was overly aroused, tensing every muscle not to come too soon, wanting her never to stop, wishing she would stop so I could sink my rod deeply into her. I wanted to be buried inside her in a way I’d never known with a girl. To possess her as completely as she was doing effortlessly with only her fingers.

  Fuck, Jack. Pull it together.

  It was far from my first hand job…but, oh God…even in my vast experience with girls I had nothing to compare to this.

  I was there, swollen and about to shoot into her palm, when her fingers relaxed and, with one slow stroke upward, lifted from my erection before it was too late.

  I took in several full chest loads of oxygen to steady myself, though the urge to turn her on the bed made me wonder what the fuck was my problem this time.

  She was naked.

  She was kissing me and touching me everywhere, in an unmistakable, silent supplication to get on with it.

  I was certainly hard.

  I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted anything.

  I just had to…

  “Oh fuck.” I groaned loudly, and awash with shivers, I lifted up my head enough to see if what I was feeling really was what she was doing.