“No.” Another wail. “It was just the way they looked at me. And I’m never late, and I was, and I felt funny. I hated brandy and I couldn’t drink and I…”
He wanted to say she’d probably got a bug and an over active imagination, and was stressed. But decided against it.
“I hate babies.”
“I know. So, this is good? Yeah?”
“No.” She thumped his chest. Hard, then pounded on it with the palm of her hands.
“Why?” He tried to keep his voice steady under the battering he was getting. Put his hand over hers to keep it still.
There was a long pause, the odd sniffle. Then she looked up at him, all tear stained with a look of shock on her face. “I don’t know.” She opened and closed her mouth, relaxed the arm that had been failing in his direction. “I don’t really know.”
“So does this mean you’re taking my present back?”
She stared a bit longer, then the slightest trace of a grin tugged at her mouth. “It was an unwanted gift.” She sounded a bit more normal, pulled back slightly from him. “You said you didn’t want it.”
Unwanted baby, unwanted gift. Why did people spend all their lives wanting what they couldn’t have, and throwing away what they were offered? Then regretting it. He brushed the hair back from her face, tugged at the last lock that had somehow got stuck in the corner of her mouth. “Feel a bit better now?” She nodded. “I didn’t think you wanted a baby? And I mean, you definitely don’t want one of mine, darling.”
Her gaze wavered on his face. “I didn’t, I don’t. I’d just got used to the idea, and then… it was gone. I don’t mean I didn’t want yours, I mean I didn’t want a baby, but it’s not that I want yours, I don’t specifically not want yours, I just—”
“I get the drift, maybe now is the time to shut up?”
“Okay.”
So she’d jumped to conclusions, thought she was pregnant and never had time to check before she’d careered off on a new path frantically solving a problem that didn’t exist. Slowing down, he was fast discovering, wasn’t in Georgie’s nature. Taking her time, thinking it through, sticking with something was alien. Reacting impulsively and doing what came from the heart was what made her the girl she was. Chaotic. Like some unstable gas.
Which was why Rowena had tried to make her stop and think. To plan, why she’d forced her to stop flitting between wild ideas, why she’d tried to make her work out what she really wanted.
“I missed you, you mad cow.”
“That’s not very nice.”
“Nope, bloody infuriating.”
“I mean calling me a mad cow.”
“There are worse things to be called.” He ran his palm over her silky smooth hair, took in her scent. “I can’t just take this place from you though, I’m sorry.”
“I know. I get it now.”
“Shall I give you a lift home?”
“Can I stay? I just want to be with you, please?”
“In my cold, damp caravan?”
“Wherever. Please.”
“And then what?”
“And then I’ll tell you why I’m here.”
***
She lasted exactly two hours, twenty three minutes and six seconds, by her watch, before she knew she couldn’t do it. “Jake?”
“Yes.”
“Are you asleep?”
“How can I sleep with you wriggling around like you’ve sat in an ants nest?”
“I’m not a cold, damp, caravan kind of girl I don’t think.”
He laughed, a deep down, toe-curling good laugh. “Didn’t think so. Even with all those clothes on. Come on Cinders let’s get you back to your goose down quilt or whatever it is you’re used to. Or I could give you a good sorting and see if that works.”
“Can you do both?”
Chapter Twelve
“This is good.”
“Sorry?” She put the kettle down and glanced over at him. At the crumpled sheets of paper that she thought she’d hidden under the bed. Obviously not, more like down the side of the settee. “Oh, that. Well, it doesn’t matter now. Here, coffee.”
He ignored the coffee. “No, I mean it. It is, Georgie. You really wanted that place didn’t you? You still do.”
She shrugged. She had, but it didn’t seem quite as important now. “No, I don’t. I told you.”
“Come on, spill.” He held out a large capable hand, she could have ignored it, she could have held on to her coffee mug, but it wouldn’t have been fair. Or honest. She put her hand in his, watched his fingers wrap around her much smaller ones. “Sit.” She sat, reluctantly. “Now, tell me why you came back.”
“For another taste of your body?”
“Georgie.” It was stern, a warning. “Okay, let’s start with this plan.” He tapped the sheets of a paper with one finger. “It’s good.”
“It’s pie in the sky crap.”
“No, it’s not and you know it, or you’re not as smart as I’ve got you down to be. You’ve thought it all through, the riding lessons, art centre, shoots, even taking rent off me.” The short laugh didn’t have any rancour in it. “So, why abandon it now?”
“When I thought—”
“But you’re not pregnant, so you can do it.”
“When I thought I was, I realised I didn’t need this place anymore.”
“And you reckoned I did?”
“It’s not like that. I know you don’t need anything, Jake. But I wanted to give it to you. When Dad came to see me—”
“Did he?” The surprise in Jake’s voice was genuine.
“It was the first time we’ve properly talked for years. I never knew, but my mum hated the whole horse thing you know, she was scared for me. But we did it anyway.”
“It isn’t why she left, you can’t do that old trick of blaming yourself.”
“I’m not.” And she wasn’t. The old Georgie might have, but she’d grown up a bit. “Dad asked me what I wanted and,” she paused, “he asked me about you. Jake, I can’t turn the clock back, I know I can’t, but I can stop myself being like her. I didn’t want a baby because kids are where it all goes wrong. Mum had me, and hated the fact that me and dad were so close, then she got pregnant which is why she left—”
“Hey—”
“Can you just let me finish, please? And then Carol got pregnant, and I always felt it was because dad and her had a brood of kids that I was sent away. But it isn’t that simple is it? Mum loved me, but it was easier not to be here, and she loved that,” what was she supposed to call him? “That, well she loved whoever she ran off with or she wouldn’t have gone. And well, I guess Dad needed someone and he met Carol, and I don’t think he meant to push me out, I was just a stroppy teenager and he didn’t know what to do with me.”
“I bet you were. Poor man.”
“Thanks for that. And I wouldn’t imagine Carol had a clue how to handle things, she’s far too nice.”
“Not a catty cow?”
“Well, I don’t think we’re ever going to be best buddies, but she’s probably not that bad really.” She caught the look he was still shooting her way, “okay, she’s not a catty cow. So anyhow,” this was the bit where it got more difficult, the bit she’d been turning over and over in her head to try and straighten out the kinks. “Well, I do like it here. I admit it, but it’s just…”
“Me?”
“Yes.” She glanced up, met that deep sea stare, let herself look at the tumble of dark curls, the dimple in his chin. That perfect, oh so kissable mouth. “Mum and Dad fell for each other, but I guess they shouldn’t have got married. She wanted fun, she didn’t want kids, didn’t want tying down and she wanted it to be just her and Dad. She ran away, and” she risked another look at him, “I don’t want to end up doing the same. We’re so different, we want different things you and me, and you don’t even have a clue what I’m rambling on about do you?”
“I might.”
“When I thought I was pregnant, I r
ealised,” okay, make a Grade A idiot of yourself, get it over with. “I wanted to be with you, I was making a plan and all the rest because I wanted an excuse to bother you and hang around, but you don’t want anything steady, and even if you did, we’re just too different and it’s just about sex anyway, like it was with—”
She didn’t get any further because his mouth was over hers, his tongue running along the tips of her teeth, strong fingers in her hair, against the nape of her neck sending the type of shiver down her spine that she’d been pining for, for days. She groaned and felt the lift at the corner of his mouth.
“Don’t laugh at me. I’m—”
He pulled her across the small gap between their chairs, onto his lap. “Bad, you’re just so bad.” Sharp teeth nipped at her swollen lips just as the warmth of his hand drifted up the inside of her thigh. “Did I tell you how much I like it when all you’ve got on is a bathrobe?”
“Nope.” She squeaked as his teeth moved on to her ear lobe, as his fingers reached the v at the top of her thighs, as they stroked along her swollen labia, gently parted her lips. His fingertips skated lightly over her clit, drifted between her legs then back, circling the swollen nub ever more persistently and she knew she was grabbing at his shoulders, digging her fingers into his hard shoulders. Two fingers slipped deep inside her as this thumb rested against her most sensitive part and the oo mixed with a whimper as she came, an abrupt pulsing, grasping need that she had no control over.
“And now,” the dark eyes bored straight into her, “I’m going to put you on that table and fuck you properly.”
“You mean, before was just a trail run?”
“Before was nothing, darling.”
He lowered her flat on to the large table, pushing her precious plan and the coffee cups until they teetered on the edge, firm thumbs pressing onto the dip just inside her hip bones, holding her still, making her wait. But it wasn’t much of a wait, just a brief teeter on the edge before he thrust inside her a slow, unstoppable glide that took him balls deep and her back to the start of a trembling orgasm. She locked her ankles behind the slim hips, held him there as her body trembled around him but could do nothing to control the movement as he tightened his grip around her hips, slid her along the table so that their bodies crashed together with an intensity that made her cry out. She wanted to stop, wanted to control the gentle orgasm that was building inside her, to hold on to it, hold him, feel him, but he wouldn’t let her. Each jerk of her body against his made her scared she’d lose it, each thrust deeper made her want more. Then he stopped. She wriggled, trying to move further down the table. He grinned. “Do you want me?” His thumb moved across, pressed against her swollen nub, slowly, painfully circled until she was grasping for breath.
“Yeah.” Shit, just do it. His mouth came down, white teeth teased at her nipple sending a new spark all the way down to where his hand pressed against her. The small tremors started, the tremble of a pulse between her legs, she lifted her hips, pressed against him. Cried out as he pulled from her body, a spasm of cold air quickly replaced by the warm dampness of his mouth. She’d had a tongue inside her before, she’d been sucked and teased but this was different. She could feel the strength of his jaw, feel the almost animal need as he lapped and sucked at her, as his tongue flicked deep inside and then he was gently sucking, inescapable, gentle, demanding and she felt like she was bursting under his touch, exploding into his mouth, aware of her thighs trembling against his cheeks, of her hand desperately grasping at his hair.
He flipped her over before she had time to object, to realise what he was doing. The cold wood of the table was against her stomach, her breasts. The heat of his thighs pushing her legs wider and as he pushed inside her still throbbing wet pussy he pressed against her anus, the tip of his finger breaching the tight ring of muscle just enough, just enough to make her clench with anticipation, to tighten around his cock. She was coming again before he did, then the warmth of his explosion bursting inside her kicked off a whole new sensation, and as his warm mouth trailed damp kisses down her neck, her spine, she realised she wanted more.
“Stay.” He’d slid her off the table, lifted her up and sunk back onto the settee with her still in his arms,
“I can’t stay, Jake. I can’t be front of house for ever at the restaurant, and anyway it’s starting to get on my nerves. You’ve no idea what some of the people they get in there are like, and as for the new chef, he thinks he’s God’s gift—”
He pulled her body tighter against his, hard chin resting on her head. “I mean stay here, with me.”
She pulled away, stared at him “With you?” For a second he looked taken aback. “Sorry, that sounds awful, it wasn’t supposed to come out like that.”
“Would it be such a bad idea? You do your stuff, I do mine. There’s room here for both of us.”
“But I didn’t think—”
“Nor did I.” He shrugged self-consciously. “I had a word after you left that note, and Rowena is happy for me to carry on as I am for a bit, until we know if it will work.”
“Oh, so you’re the one sneaking behind my back now and talking to her.”
He laughed. “You’d cut and run, after telling me I was going to be a father. What was I supposed to do?”
“Run after me?”
He laughed again. Louder. “Think about it?”
“We could give it a few weeks. Find out just how compatible we are.”
“We could give it in until Valentine’s Day…?”
“Jake?”
“Okay, it’s a daft idea. All four letter words and yucky romantic stuff as you’d say. Give it until the end of January?”
“Jake, shut up.” She pressed her lips against his, fought the urge to close her eyes. “Maybe Carol has a point with her party, and maybe,” she took a breath, “maybe all four letter words aren’t nasty.”
“I quite like some of them actually, like beer, and food, and of course shag.”
“We mustn’t forget shag. Jake?”
“It makes me scared when you say Jake like that.”
“Would it make you scared if I said that I just think, well I, well, the thing is…”
“Oh, Georgina.” He was grinning. “I’ve got a horrible feeling I’ve fallen for you.”
“As in, well, fallen in…”
“As in fallen a long way,” there was a crinkle round his eyes, the dimple in his chin had deepened. “All,” he kissed her nose, “the way.”
Want to read more of Zara Stoneley’s seriously sexy erotic romances?
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