Something Beginning With Mistletoe (Something Borrowed Book 3)

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Something Beginning With Mistletoe (Something Borrowed Book 3) Page 11

by Louisa George


  Her hand went to his jeans and the hard line of his erection, but he pushed her to lie back on the table and licked a trail from her breasts to her belly, then lower. His fingers slid inside her, his thumb circling and circling her centre. Then his mouth replaced his hand and she gasped. ‘God. That’s…that’s so good.’

  Restless and breathless, she moaned and writhed against his mouth until her fingers spiked his hair and she was shaking and saying his name. He teased her, stroked her, played with her, taking her close to the edge, watching the red mist in her eyes, the greedy pleasure as she relished sensation after sensation until her eyes closed tight and she threw back her head, finally going over the edge. He felt the ripples shudder through her as she came, and he was so damned hard it took all his self-control not to take her right there.

  But after a couple of moments he realised she was still shaking. He tugged her up and wrapped her close. Chest against chest. Mouth against mouth. Skin against skin. A savage need to protect her, to make her world right. His heart hammered as he breathed, ‘You okay?’

  ‘God, yes. Better than okay. Come upstairs.’ She was laughing as she looked at him, eyes heavy with sex, and he knew this should have been the time when he left. When maybe, just maybe, they’d be able to stop crossing that line they were straddling. But he didn’t walk away. Couldn’t. And instead he gripped her hand and ran with her upstairs. They were in her bedroom in seconds, and on her bed. When she reached to him with such heat in her eyes, he knew that line was already crossed. ‘You still have far too many clothes on.’

  ‘Good point.’

  ‘Let’s fix that.’ Kissing him again, she moved her hands to his chest and bunched his T-shirt in tight fists. Then she was tugging it over his head and throwing it to the floor. Her eyes widened as her palms went to his chest, his shoulders, his biceps. ‘You have an indecently good body considering you’re a pen pusher.’

  ‘It’s a big pen.’

  ‘I bloody well hope so.’

  His mouth was on her throat and he felt the rumble of laughter vibrate against his lips as he inhaled her fresh scent that was indelibly imprinted on his skin, his body. His heart.

  ***

  ‘Take these off.’ Drunk with desire and craving more and more of Blake Delacourte, Faith undid his belt. Within seconds he was as naked as she was. And every bit as good as his word.

  Bigshot certainly does mean big…pen.

  He’d taken her beyond desire and need, and now it was his turn. She took her time exploring his body, stopping only for more kisses, teasing slowly down his chest, to that delicious arrow of dark hair leading her to his tip. He groaned as she took him in one hand and cupped him with the other. Slowly and smoothly she stroked him, feeling him harden even more with every touch, felt each shudder through his body.

  ‘Wait.’ When he pressed his hand on hers, she stopped. He took her face in both hands and kissed her hard and long until her thoughts were mussed, until all she knew was this need, this ache, this man.

  His tip was pressing against her thigh, against her core. With one thrust he’d be inside her, filling her. But he was holding back. She was on the point of desperation. ‘Blake. I need…I need you.’

  Needed him inside her. In her bed. In her life. The thought lodged deep in her heart as she pulled away, drank in his gaze of burnt caramel.

  He nodded, then grabbed a packet from his jeans and expertly sheathed himself, all the while his mouth moving against hers in a soft seductive dance. Then he was pressing against her again. Nudging close. Closer.

  But he stopped and she almost went crazy. He kissed her softly then asked, ‘Are you sure?’

  She reached for him again. Hard and hot. And edged him even closer, nudging her opening. Whipping her breath away, stoking the heat in her body. ‘Yes, and don’t make me beg.’

  ‘I’d never do that.’ He laughed. Deep and raw. ‘But you said you didn’t do this…?’

  ‘I don’t do relationships, I didn’t say anything about not having sex.’ But even as she said it she knew this was so much more than sex. This was dangerous and rash, an open door to a broken heart. It was beyond her control. It was crazy and wild and scary and every part of her ached for it. For him.

  He spread her legs with his oh-so-good-looking thighs and she gripped his shoulder as he slid deep inside her, filling her hot and hard. Felt the pulse and the surge of him as she clenched around his thickness. Then he pulled out until she almost did beg. Because not having him inside her was the worst kind of hell.

  Then he was filling her again, filling her body and her heart.

  She wanted this, all of it. All of him. Wanted his slick kisses, his kindness, his strength.

  As he thrust deeper, harder, faster she lifted her bottom, shifted her hips and caught his rhythm. Caught her hand in his hair, his hand in hers, fingers latticing together, holding tight. Their gazes locked as the intimacy deepened. Watching, feeling, being this connection that melded them as one. Pressure built inside her, like white light, starlight prickling through her veins. She searched for his mouth, kissed him again, rocking harder and faster until every cell in her body felt the shudder of his sharp release. And as he groaned her name into her hair she lost all control again, crashing with him higher, higher, higher.

  She lay back in his arms, slick with sweat and his scent—their scent—and it took a few moments for the world to right itself. ‘Wow, Blake. That was…amazing.’

  ‘It was. Next time we’ll take it slow. Or fast. Or both.’ He curled round her, kissing her neck, nuzzling close. It was only then she realised he had tiny bits of glitter in his hair, and she smiled against his chest.

  This was certainly going to give her different memories of Christmas.

  Next time. He wanted a next time. She wanted that too. And more. So much more that the wanting unsettled her. They were too different, too busy, too unsuited. And she’d worked hard at getting used to being on her own, making sure she never let anyone in, because losing someone else would be too hard to bear. A heavy weight settled in her chest.

  How many next times until no more?

  Chapter 9

  Blake sensed Faith retreating into herself as she wrapped a blanket around her chest and sat up. The heat they’d shared dissipated a little and goosebumps lifted her skin. Best sex of his life, and also the biggest complication. Because now everything had changed between them.

  He pulled her closer and dragged another blanket round her shoulders, not wanting to watch the way she tried to close herself off from him. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ She smiled then, and it wasn’t one of her usual blow-your-mind kind of smiles. She was clearly feeling as unsettled as he was. Being here was a big deal, but wanting to stay longer was an even bigger one. Usually, he slept with women who wanted the same thing he did—friends, benefits, fun. And that had been exactly what he’d started with Faith, but right now the ache in his chest told him it was a whole lot more.

  He ran the back of his fingers down her cheek. ‘Faith, there’s no of course about it. We just took a big step there.’

  ‘We did.’ She rested her chin on bent knees. ‘I’m just tired, that’s all.’

  ‘A not-so-subtle hint for me to leave.’ He kissed her hair, her nose, her mouth, and wished the ache in his chest would do a bunk. But he suspected it wouldn’t. ‘You want me to go?’

  She thought for a minute, locked down inside herself. ‘Do you want to stay?’

  ‘Great deflection.’ They were way past physical intimacy, but emotional? Where the hell did they go with that? He’d promised he’d never get involved on such a deep level again. But with Faith, it seemed, he couldn’t stop himself. ‘I’m not going to play guessing games. If there’s one thing we need to be, it’s honest. So, yes, Faith, I want to stay the night with you. I know it’s a big deal. So I’m fine if you want me to leave.’

  ‘I don’t know what I want, Blake. My mind has been warped. You do very good sex and now
all rationality is gone. But thank you for being honest. And for wanting to stay.’ Then she turned her head and kissed him hard until any trace of sensibility was well and truly destroyed.

  One thing stuck though; she’d thought he’d leave. She expected him to. Was that how she imagined life was going to be for her? People came and left. People left her. That was the truth that lay behind her I’m no good at relationships thing. A heavy pressure filled his throat.

  So to get rid of it, he kissed her again. When they finally paused enough to draw breath he saw she was smiling, so he whispered against her mouth, ‘Do more of that and you won’t be able to get rid of me.’

  ‘Smile or kiss?’

  ‘Either. Both.’

  It was hard to compute this feeling inside him. Half panic, half smile, all desire. And some hope too. Damn hope…something he’d tried hard not to feel for so long. He circled his hands round her waist and tugged her to lie down with him again.

  She touched the side of his glasses. ‘Hey, are these for real?’

  ‘Sure.’ He took them off and handed them to her to examine. Pretended he couldn’t see a damned thing just to make her laugh even more.

  She tried them on. ‘Wow. They are real. I thought they were fake. You totally rock the whole sexy, intelligent look, Blake Delacourte.’

  ‘I wouldn’t rock squinting at you, trust me. You had a very poor opinion of me if you honestly thought I was as fake as wearing clear glasses. What was the nickname? Bigshot?’ It had made him laugh when he’d overheard them saying it.

  Her cheeks pinked and she winced. ‘Oh my God, you heard. It was just for…I was going to say fun, but now I know you you’re not a pompous bigshot at all.’

  ‘Yeah? Try telling my ex that.’ His laugh stalled in his chest.

  Geez. Dumb. Stupid move.

  ‘You have an ex-wife. Yes, you do.’ Faith edged a little out of his arms and the cold snap of winter bit at his skin. ‘Every time you say that word your tone changes. What on earth happened?’

  He shuddered. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about his past mistakes. Not here, in bed with Faith. Not anywhere, for that matter. ‘Let’s not go there. We all have baggage that’s best left behind.’

  ‘But we said we’d be honest.’

  ‘Faith, you don’t need to hear about her. Seriously. We’ve just had an amazing time. Leave it alone.’

  ‘I don’t get you. Is honesty one-sided nowadays?’

  She was pushing him, yes. But her hand slipped into his, fingers interlacing. Anchoring him. Her eyes were mesmerising as she looked at him. Beautiful. Faith was carrying some hurt but she rose above it. She was funny. She was loyal. She was everything Stacey hadn’t been.

  She was also right. If he’d talked about honesty he needed to walk his talk now. He took a deep breath. ‘She was a university friend first. We hooked up a couple of times. Nothing serious. Then she moved to London and we hung out. There was a bunch of us from uni down here and we all went out once every couple of months. Then it was just me and Stacey once a week. She had this high-powered job in the city and was doing really well. And she was the life of every party. She did everything big. I mean, always up. Always happy and positive. Always…high.’

  Faith squeezed his hand. ‘You mean drugs?’

  He nodded. It had been a dark time, not knowing whether he was going to be with happy and high Stacey or tearful coming down Stacey or desperate to get more drugs Stacey. ‘Cocaine. Dope. Speed. Anything she could get her hands on. I didn’t know at first, I just thought she was fun to be with. Then one day she called me and said she was in a bit of trouble with her rent and could she stay in my spare room. She was my friend, I wasn’t going to turn her down, although it was never clear where all her money was going. Then she had trouble with her job. Her friends. And somehow during that time she’d moved into my room and the most natural thing to do was get married.’

  Faith tilted her head, curious. ‘You proposed?’

  ‘No. She did, actually.’

  ‘Unusual.’

  ‘Not for Stacey. She spent a lot of her time doing the opposite of what was expected. The proposal just sort of happened. I actually think she meant it, too. Right then in that moment.’ But the second he’d agreed he’d felt like they were on a collision course. He should have said something then, but he’d committed to her.

  ‘You loved her?’

  ‘I thought I did. I really tried to and was in it for the long haul. But things went pretty bad very quickly. We were young and I was naive and believed her excuses. The first time I found her drugs she told me it was just a one-off and promised never to do it again. The second time she was more defensive and accused me of spying on her and going through her things.’

  Faith inhaled. ‘Did you?’

  Trust was big for him and it worked both ways. ‘Faith. Really?’

  ‘No. I can’t imagine you doing anything like that. The one thing I know is that you are respectful. And sexy. And very good at kissing.’ She leaned in and slid her mouth over his. Tender and sweet and honest. And for a minute he hoped she’d forgotten all about his doomed marriage, but clearly not, because as she pulled away, she said breathlessly, ‘Tell me more.’

  So he had to. Because, if nothing else, he was a man who was good on his word. ‘Things got so bad she overdosed, and after she was discharged from hospital I made her get help. She was fine for a while. Then I was away on a business trip in Australia, the second one since we’d had the big blowout over her problem. I wanted her to know I trusted her, that I believed her. But I Skyped her from my hotel room, and when she answered she was clearly high. She denied it, of course, but I knew the signs. She was a mess and I wanted so much to help her. To fix her. Fix it. Fix us. But that was the problem; she didn’t want fixing, she liked the way it made her feel. She liked being high.’

  Faith rested her head on his shoulder. ‘That’s really tough, Blake.’

  ‘It is if you can see someone self-destruct and there’s nothing you can do about it. When they lose their job because they’re not performing well. When you know you can help but they throw it back at you.’ First it had been Brad, then his wife. ‘What do you do, Faith? When someone’s on the edge? Do you stand back and watch them fall? Or do you jump in?’

  Now he didn’t know whether he was talking about Stacey or his brother.

  Faith smiled. ‘You help. Of course you do, anyone would. You, especially, would help.’

  ‘I tried. The only way I knew how. I told her I was coming home, that I’d put a stop to her money. And I did it there and then—cut off her access to cash. Stupid, but I thought if she didn’t have money she wouldn’t buy drugs. She screamed and shouted and promised she’d change and I wanted to believe she could. She was good at passion. Passionate about life, about her fix. Passionate about me, I’d thought—until I stopped the money supply. Turned out she’d never been passionate about us after all.’

  ‘I’m so sorry. Trust me…you have many, many more things going for you than money.’ Faith slid her hand over his thigh and squeezed it. And he was momentarily distracted by her smile and her mouth and that hand. If it was two inches higher…

  She laughed gently as he turned to her, already hard. ‘Blake Delacourte, finish this story first.’

  ‘No. Enough.’ He covered her hand with his, then slid it higher to her breast, bewitched by her body. ‘I want you.’

  She kissed him. ‘Again, so soon?’

  After all the effort he’d put in to trying to stay away from her, geez, he was the addict. He couldn’t get enough of her. ‘All the bloody time.’

  ‘Me too. So much so I think I’m going to spontaneously combust.’ Her eyes burned brazen blue as she bit her bottom lip, and it was so damned sexy he wanted to take her right then and there.

  But at her urging, he continued. ‘I got on a flight immediately, but Australia is a long way away, and by the time I got home she’d thrown all my belongings onto the lawn and moved
her dealer in. There’d been no love there on her side, in the end. Just someone to bankroll her habit. So many times I talked to her about getting more help, but she wasn’t at the point of admitting she had a problem. In some ways I failed her.’

  ‘How?’ He hadn’t realised he’d sat up straighter and now Faith’s hands were on his chest. Stroking.

  ‘Because I should have seen the signs before. Maybe I shouldn’t have said yes to her proposal, then she wouldn’t have had access to my bank account. Maybe I should never have gone on another business trip.’

  ‘But you can’t live your life without trust, Blake. So what happened? You found all your things outside on the ground?’

  He shrugged, half laughing in hindsight. It must have been damned good viewing for anyone watching. More reality TV than real life. His life. ‘The dealer came out shouting and ranting, so I did what any man would do. I hit him.’

  Her mouth opened into a perfect ‘O’. ‘No! I’ve seen you with Daisy. You wouldn’t hurt anyone.’

  ‘He threatened me. Came at me all gnarly and growling. Safe to say it was self-defence. Then I took charge and got them both out of my house. The only thing stopping me from calling the police was hurting her even more with a criminal charge—she’d already harmed herself enough.’ That day was etched in his mind as a warning not to get involved. Yet here he was telling Faith about his life. Wanting to make love to her again. Wanting her. Wanting to stay. When in reality he should heed the warning of his past and leave. ‘The neighbours were very relieved when I sold up and moved on.’

  ‘And so you moved here. Bringing all your gangsta moves with you.’

  ‘Yes, I moved here. And was threatened all over again.’ He tucked fingers under her chin and kissed her. ‘But this time it was from a beautiful woman and that, more than anything, told me I’d definitely found the right place.’

  Although he’d have been wiser to move on again the moment he’d set eyes on her. In the past he’d had his pride trampled on and his trust broken, but that was small fry to him, in the end. Because his heart was at risk now, and that meant he was in even bigger trouble.

 

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