by Anna Durand
I assume she means the dishes, but with this woman, I never can tell for sure.
Half an hour later, I step out of the steaming shower, dry off, and sling a towel around my hips. After a quick shave, I walk out into the bedroom.
And I freeze.
What I see makes my pulse accelerate and sends all the blood rushing into my cock.
Cat lies on my bed, naked, with the covers pulled back as if she's waiting for me to join her. She skims her hand over the sheet, and her lips slide into a seductive smile.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"I want you, Alex."
"Maybe I don't want you."
She laughs, the sound light and affectionate. "We both know that's not true. Donnae ruin the moment by lying or getting grumpy. Come over here and make love to me."
I want to do that, desperately, but my hunger for her seems to short-circuit my brain. Whenever she acts this way, I do and say things I never want to do or say. She is dangerously close to uncovering all my secrets. I can't allow that to happen. This woman is beautiful, sensual, kind, compassionate, clever, determined—all the things that will doom her if she stays with me.
Tell her to go to hell and shout the words if you have to. But I can't form the syllables. I can't speak at all while she's lying there naked, waiting for me to crawl into bed with her.
What do I say? The most idiotic thing imaginable, of course. "Sorry, I'm not in the mood tonight."
She glances at my hardening cock, then shakes her finger at me. "Donnae lie. Didn't I tell you that already? Anyone can see you are in the mood."
My cock might be, but I know if I walk over there, I'll say and do things that will give her the wrong impression about my feelings for her. Not that I have a single sodding idea about what I feel.
She's so beautiful, so enticing with her lithe body spread out on the bed. I trace the lines of that body with my gaze, from her full breasts, down her flat belly to her hips and the hairs between her thighs. Looking at her, seeing her sweetly seductive smile, it triggers a pain in my chest.
I shuffle over to the bed and set my arse down on its edge, facing away from her. "I don't understand why you're still here."
Why do I sound completely baffled?
Because I am.
She glides a hand up my back, the warmth of her skin a tantalizing sensation. "How many times do I need to tell you? I'm here because I want to be. Because I love you."
My mouth opens, and I intend to tell her I don't love her, but the words die on my tongue.
"For one night," she says, "forget about everything else. Forget your secrets and your fears. Just come to bed and make love to me."
I glance at her over my shoulder, letting my gaze wander over her creamy skin and the waves of cinnamon-colored hair that cascade over her shoulders. Everything else seems to fade away. All I see is her. All I feel is an inexplicable need to be as close to her humanly possible.
For one night, she says. One night and then…
I'll worry about that later.
Getting up, I strip off the towel.
Her eyes flutter half closed, and she clasps her hands above her head on the pillow.
I crawl onto the bed, straddling her body. "We might both regret this later, but I can't say no to you any longer. You are so lovely, so luscious, so…impossible to resist."
She arches her back, spreads her thighs, and licks her lips. "For one night, nothing else matters."
My throat's gone dry, my mouth too. Nothing else tonight. Just our bodies.
Even when we'd lived together, I couldn't erase the rest of the world. Maybe I came close to that, and maybe I didn't hold back in terms of sex, but I never quite broke free of everything else. Tonight, I want to.
I lower myself onto her, held up by my elbows braced at either side of her. The scent of her desire teases my senses, and I close my eyes for a moment to inhale the heady aroma. God, why do I feel drunk from the scent of her? It's mad, but I don't care. I skate my lips over hers, relishing the way she sucks in a breath and arches her neck, then I claim her mouth. The flavor of her overpowers my senses while I slip my tongue between her lips, flicking and lunging it to explore every last millimeter of her mouth. She moans and opens more for me, licking and gliding her tongue around mine, nipping at my lips, infusing my tongue with the flavor of her breaths. As the kiss intensifies, our teeth bump into each other, and suddenly I can't breathe anymore.
Cat moans again, long and low, the sound vibrating through her mouth into mine.
Though I want to keep kissing her forever, I pull my head back to catch my breath and appreciate her expression. Desire has turned her cheeks a rosy shade of pink, and the color speckles her throat and chest too. Her mouth falls open as she slides her tongue around the rim of her lips, her eyes hooded and hungry.
I've never seen anything so beautiful in my life.
"Alex," she murmurs, her voice sultry.
"Catriona, I…" Have no fucking idea what to say. So I give up on speaking.
I slither down her body, feathering kisses over her skin while I move, tasting and smelling her flesh, getting drunker with every bit of her I experience. When I reach her breasts, I pull one nipple into my mouth and lick and suckle it until she gasps, then I inch further down her body, loving her with my mouth and my hands, caressing her skin like I'm worshiping her. Maybe I am. Maybe? No, in this moment I can at least speak the truth in my own mind. I am worshiping her. And I'll keep doing this until neither of us has the energy to move.
As I travel ever lower down her delicious body, my cock gets stiffer, and I'm positive I have no blood left in my brain because it's all down there. Who needs a brain? I have Cat underneath me, wriggling and moaning and gasping my name. I pause with my face above her hips and the silky hairs below them, closing my eyes while I inhale the intoxicating scent of her. I've become obsessed with the way she smells, from her mouth to her breasts to the part of her I want to devour. Fuck, I love the way she smells, like musk and honey. I sneak my mouth between those luscious folds, latch onto her taut nub, and swirl my tongue around it over and over until she's clenching the sheets and bowing her back up so high that her shoulders almost lift off the bed too. I feast on that hard little button like her body and her pleasure are the only food that can satisfy my hunger.
"Alex!" she cries out, every muscle in her body going rigid, and she comes with her eyes squeezed shut and her scream strangled by the power of her climax.
Once I've coaxed every bit of pleasure out of her, I position myself over her body, my knees between her legs and my hands on the bed at either side of her, my arms straight. For a few seconds, all I can do is gaze down at her, at those lovely parted lips and the way her breasts heave with each breath. So fucking perfect. I push inside her and groan deeply, the feel of her slick heat around me such a bloody wonderful sensation. I rock my hips, diving in and pulling out in a measured, luxurious rhythm while I revel in how snugly her body molds to my cock and the way her hairs tease my skin. Every sensation seems heightened, so much better than any of the countless other times when I've made love to her. How can this feel so different tonight?
I can't waste any energy on figuring that out. The need to come deep inside her body escalates with every thrust and every ravenous noise she makes. I drop onto my elbows, crushing her with my weight though she doesn't seem to care. She slides her hands up my arms to grasp the back of my neck, and her breaths gust over my face. I know I can't last much longer, but I need to get her there with me.
"Catriona," I gasp, and I reach down to separate her folds so I'm pressing into her clit with every thrust.
"Aye, more, please," she begs, her voice strained from the rising pressure inside her.
I can see the strain on her face, the desperate need to let go and tumble off that cliff. I pump my hips faster and harder, grazing her clit with every stroke, and within seconds I feel her sheath tighten around me and her body st
iffen while her mouth falls open on a sound that's barely a gasp. Her release rolls through her, not as powerfully as the first time but with a languor that's even more beautiful. I watch her face for a second or two until the pressure inside my cock tells me I'm about to follow her over the edge. I let my chin fall onto her shoulder, burrowing my face into her silky hair.
And I come.
I can't speak or breathe, the intensity of it making my body jerk while I let out a choked shout that's muffled by her skin and her hair—and the pillow, which I'm now smashing my face into while I plow into her one last time. I go limp on top of her, so spent I can't even lift my face off the pillow. I blow out breath after breath, sucking in a bit of the pillow every time I inhale.
Cat caresses the back of my neck with her fingers.
A moment or two—possibly three or four or ten—ticks by before I summon the energy to roll off her body. Sprawled on my back, I stare up at the ceiling, dazed and exhausted in the most pleasurable way. I've never felt like this after sex. Not even with Cat. Everything between us is different now, and I'm not sure if that's safe.
She turns onto her side, her hands tucked under her cheek. "Donnae worry. I willnae ask ye any questions tonight. But I'd like to sleep with you, if that's all right."
I cast a sidelong glance at her. "The last time I shared my bed with a woman all night was the last night you and I were together."
"The same for me. I haven't actually slept with a man since you."
Cat must've had sex with other men, though I can't bring myself to ask how many blokes have enjoyed the bliss of her body. I don't want to know. Why should it bother me? I have no right to be jealous. But if she tells me she's had dozens of lovers over the past twelve years, I think I might develop an ulcer.
So I raise an arm as an invitation for her to cuddle that sensual body against me, and when she does, I hold her close. Tonight, she's mine.
Tomorrow… That depends on what she asks me next.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Catriona
I throw my head back and let out a throaty cry, riding Alex through the last waves of my climax while he comes apart inside me. His shouts echo in the clearing. I stay seated on top of him, my hands on his chest, breathing hard. Wildflowers surround us, their bright shades standing out against the green grass, but a blanket beneath us shields our bodies from the earth. The silken texture of the microfiber blanket feels like heaven against my skin.
"My God, Cat," Alex says, his grin slightly crooked. "I had no idea you're such an insatiable lass. Waking me up with your mouth on me. Insisting I have you in the shower, on the staircase, on my desk in the study. Then you drag me out here so you can abuse my body in the outdoors."
"Abuse?" I say with a laugh. "I didn't hear any complaints from you when I told you to get on your back on the blanket. In fact, you dared me to see if I could make you come so hard you'd go blind."
"Which I'm positive you did, for a moment." He grasps my hips and smiles with wolfish hunger. "Maybe I had my eyes closed, though. We'd better do that again so I can make sure you accomplished that feat."
"Aye, please. Let's do that again."
I've never had this much sex in one day. Alex no longer has a job, but I do. I should be teaching a class right now, yet here I am sitting on top of him with his cock still inside me instead of educating young minds. I rang Gus Hooper to tell him I'm sick, and he seemed to believe me. Never have I ever pretended to be ill so I could take a day off, but I don't want to lose this intimacy Alex and I have developed since last night. Soon I'll have to give it up and go back to work. For today, I have nothing else to do but be with Alex.
"You are such a naughty girl," he says in a teasing tone. "Blowing off work to shag me all day long? That's not the Cat I used to know."
"I keep telling you, I'm not the naive lass you knew. I'm a mature woman who knows what she wants, and right now"—I lean in to take his bottom lip between my teeth, releasing it slowly—"what I want is you."
"Again? At least feed me lunch before you start in again." He grasps my head when I start to pull away, holding it close to his. "You, love, are draining me like a succubus."
"Does that mean you want me to stop?"
"No, it means it's my turn to drain you." He flips over, taking me with him, pinning me to the blanket with his body. "I have plans for you, Catriona."
I wriggle my hips and smile when he hisses in a breath.
Then he holds my wrists above my head and kisses me.
A phone rings.
"Bloody hell," he groans. "That's mine, isn't it?"
"Aye. This morning I changed my ringtone to bagpipes so we can tell whose mobile is ringing."
"Wonderful. You know how I love bagpipes." Alex rolls his eyes, then moves off me to sit on the blanket and grab his mobile. He glances at the screen and winces. "I have to take this."
"Go on. I don't mind."
He eyes me with a strange expression, almost like embarrassment. "I'll go over there to take this call."
"Over where?"
Without answering my question, he jumps up and walks to the opposite side of the clearing, where he leans against a tree facing away from me. And he's still naked.
I can hear him talking, but I can't understand the words. He's too far away and speaking too softly. So I ignore his conversation and admire the view of his backside, with those taut erse muscles and his strong thighs. I enjoy it until his shoulders bunch up and he smacks his palm on the tree.
"Dammit," he says. "Why did you let him do that?"
Sitting up, I find my clothes and wriggle on the blanket to get them on. Whoever he's talking to and whatever they're saying, it's clear he will be upset afterward. I'm dressed and have my shoes on by the time he ends his call and stalks back to me.
Alex scans me up and down, his frown deepening. Without a word, he snatches his clothes off the ground and pulls them on, along with his shoes.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
"It's my—Never mind."
"Talk to me. Please."
Alex stares at me without expression for several seconds, then he exhales a long breath and slumps his shoulders. "Not here."
He grabs my hand and tows me down the deer trail toward the house. I manage to snag the blanket off the ground before we start our forced march toward home. He doesn't speak again until we're inside the house, in his study.
"You'll want to sit down for this," he tells me, while he goes to the windows and leans against the frame, gazing out at the shadowy forest.
I move past him to sit on the window bench an arm's length away.
He flicks his gaze to me but quickly veers it back to the window. "Are you sure you want to know the truth about me?"
Is he going to tell me everything? My heart beats faster at the possibility, and a shiver of excitement courses through me.
"Yes," I tell him, "I'm sure."
He scrubs a hand over his face and shuts his eyes. "I have to go to Nevada. Today."
"Because of the call you got earlier."
"Yes." He covers his face with both hands, like he doesn't want me to see his expression when he tells me more. "My… Well, they're essentially my parents. They live in Nevada. Imogen and Henry Bennett raised me from the time I was eight years old."
"What happened to your real parents?"
He drops his hand, his eyes squinted, his whole expression harder and darker. "Henry and Imogen are my parents. They adopted me. The why of the story will have to wait a few minutes. I need to go to Nevada because Henry, the bloody fool, tried to clean the gutters on their house by himself using a very tall and not terribly sturdy ladder. He fell and broke his leg."
"Oh no. Will he be all right?"
"Yes, he's fine. But Imogen can't manage on her own right now. She panics at every little thing, especially when one of us gets sick or injured. I need to be there for a few days until she settles down."
"I
'll go with you."
His eyes widen, though only for a second. "You had better hear the rest of the story before you decide to get embroiled in my life."
"Alex, I'm already embroiled. It's too late to chase me off. Not that you have a chance in hell of doing that."
"It hasn't worked for me so far." He looks out the windows again. "I suppose it's time I told you everything."
"Whenever you're ready."
He scratches his head, contorting his mouth into a pained expression. Then he sighs and slumps against the window frame. "My parents—or rather, the man and woman who brought me into the world and raised me for eight years—were not upstanding citizens. They lied, cheated, schemed, connived, and generally did everything they could to avoid making an honest living."
"Were they homeless?"
"No," he says with a hefty dose of sarcasm, throwing me an equally sarcastic look. "Mummy and Daddy are grifters."
My mouth opens, but I need a few seconds before I can speak. Even then, I can make myself say only one word. "Grifters?"
"It means they're criminals." He leans toward me, his face and voice evidencing an anger he's kept buried deep inside himself. "They conned and swindled their way into quite a lot of money. For years, no one caught on to them. We lived in a posh neighborhood in London, in a posh house with posh servants. I had a live-in tutor to teach me the usual things, but my parents taught me everything I needed to know to become as masterful a grifter as they are."
I can't think of anything to say in response. At least this explains his tendency to sidestep the truth. He'd told me the other day that his parents taught him to lie and protect himself, that it was their lifestyle, but I still can't believe what I'm hearing. Alex might have a roguish side, and he often avoids answering questions, but he has never lied to me outright. How could he have lived that way? No wonder he has so much pain inside him.
Alex straightens and glares out the window. "You can go now. I'm sure one of your relatives will lend you a jet to get you home."
He assumes I'll want out because he confessed his secret to me. The daft man really doesn't understand how invested I am in making our relationship work.