Natural Satisfaction (Au Naturel Trilogy Book 3)

by Anna Durand

  Was that a euphemism for jerking off? I'd never heard anyone call it a "medical problem" before.

  "I'm fine," I told her. "Just, uh, really needed to go."

  Not exactly a lie. I had needed to "go," just not in the way people usually meant when they said that.

  "Better get a move on," I said. "Everybody's waiting."

  We walked outside and met the rest of the gang on the lawn. Ollie carried a big picnic basket, but Val carried two of those. I offered to take one, and though Val didn't seem to mind lugging both baskets, he let me help out. I was reasonably sure Val could bench press a small car. Maybe a midsize sedan. He didn't need help with two picnic baskets, but I would've felt like a jackass if I hadn't offered to take one.

  Guests had blankets slung over their shoulders or arms. I hadn't thought to bring one for Heidi. Damn.

  I must've looked annoyed with myself because Ollie sidled up to me and said, "Got an extra blanket for you and your new girlfriend." He lifted the blanket he had over his arm, revealing another one underneath it. "So relax, you're covered. Got condoms too."

  Luckily, he said that too softly for Heidi or anyone to overhear.

  Condoms? I'd barely kissed Heidi, and she had way too many hang-ups for me to seduce her today.

  "Guess you're planning to do your fiancée in the woods," I told Ollie. "Those condoms aren't for me, that's for sure."

  My best friend smirked and wagged his eyebrows.

  I had no idea what that was supposed to mean.

  We all enjoyed our picnic by the lake, though I didn't see any couples sneaking off to have a little alone time in the woods, not even Val and Eve who were the two horniest people I'd ever met. They loved to make noise too. I couldn't count how many times I'd heard them getting it on in the caretaker's house. They lived there, so they had every right to be doing whatever the hell they wanted in their own home. I'd stumbled onto them at the hot spring last week too, and that was one awkward moment.

  But I now knew Eve had great tits.

  Heidi decided to hang out with the Kittens instead of having a private picnic with me. I lay on the blanket Ollie had brought for me, gazing out across the lake. I did not fall asleep, though Ollie shoved me once to make sure I was awake.

  "Don't want you to get sunburned," he'd told me with a smirk. "Heidi doesn't go for guys who look like roasted pigs."

  "I used sunblock, Ollie. That means I won't burn even if I do fall asleep."

  "Oh-ho, you know what that means. You do care what Heidi likes in a man."

  "Go jump in a lake." I pointed toward the water. "It's right over there."

  Ollie kept smirking, but he went back to his own blanket with his own girl and didn't harass me about Heidi anymore.

  I did notice Heidi watching me even while she was hanging out with her friends. She was wearing sunglasses, so I couldn't tell for sure if she was ogling me. I had stripped off everything except my boxer shorts. Maybe I'd told Heidi I wouldn't go naked as some kind of solidarity thing, but I hadn't been lying. Boxers were clothes. Promise kept.

  Once, I glanced in Heidi's direction just as she lifted her sunglasses to look at me. She roamed her gaze over my entire body and licked her lips. When she noticed me noticing her, she lowered her sunglasses again and turned back to her friends.

  Everybody tromped back to the resort, then split off to do their own thing.

  I jogged to my room to change into my other work outfit, what Heidi said made me look like "Dracula's low-rent cousin." Her sort-of insult hadn't bothered me in the least. I could tell she liked my Ludar prince costume. But I wasn't wearing it to impress Heidi. I had actual work to do—in my gypsy wagon, for paying customers who loved my palm readings and all that other stuff average people expected from a gypsy.

  Trotting out to my wagon, I opened the padlock on the door and went inside to get set up for the afternoon's entertainment.

  Maybe Heidi would take me up on my offer for a palm reading.

  I wouldn't hold my breath.

  Chapter Nine

  Heidi

  What was I doing on this beautiful afternoon? Sunbathing? Having fun of any kind? Nope. My friends had wanted me to play Monopoly with them in the entertainment room, but I couldn't get into the idea. I loved board games, but I was too distracted to enjoy it right now. So instead, I was lying on my bed again, staring up at the ceiling balls again, thinking about Damian again. For two hours.

  Yes, it was entirely his fault I couldn't have fun.

  How could I think about anything except him when he stretched out on a towel on the beach wearing nothing but a pair of boxers? Honestly, the man had no shame. I mean, sure, other guys had gone naked—including Ollie and Val, two super hotties—but I couldn't have cared less about them. My eyes insisted I had to gawk at Damian. Damn, he had the kind of body any woman would drool over. Not that I drooled. Maybe my mouth had gotten a teeny bit overly salivated, but that did not mean I wanted to get naked with the Dracula knockoff.

  Maybe I should've stopped thinking of him that way. Vampires were hot, after all. I'd watched enough movies and read enough romance novels to understand the allure of a man in black. Even Johnny Cash was kind of hot in that color. But Damian Petrescu… He could set the entire state of Oregon on fire just by stripping naked on the beach.

  He hadn't gotten naked, though. He'd worn those boxers, which only made me want to go over there, rip those shorts off, and drag him into the woods.

  If Damian were a player, like I'd always assumed, I wouldn't want him this much. He just had to go and be a nice guy. Damn him.

  Laughter outside my window made me sit up. I'd left the window open to get some fresh air, so I could hear whatever went on out there. My room was on the backside of the guest house, and there wasn't much out there except for the bungalow where Ruth and Sylvester slept. Well, that and Damian's gypsy wagon.

  More laughter echoed off the trees.

  I slid off the bed and leaned out the window.

  Shelby and Heather stood just outside Damian's wagon. Leah was descending the steps. All three of my friends laughed some more, grinning.

  Damian followed Leah out of the wagon.

  Heather kissed his cheek. Shelby squeezed his biceps and pretended to swoon. At least, I thought she was pretending. Damian kissed Leah's hand, and she giggled. The girls trotted around the guest house, out of sight. What had those three been doing in Damian's wagon?

  Damian saw me and waved.

  I waved back.

  He made a come-hither gesture.

  No, I would not go down there. Considering how much I liked the way he looked in that black outfit, I knew I'd only get myself into trouble if I went downstairs and climbed into his wagon. What did he have in there? Chairs? Cushions on the floor? I would've loved to lie on a pile of pillows while Damian—

  Oh no, I would not go there, not even in my fantasies.

  I shut the window.

  For twelve minutes and thirteen seconds, I stopped myself from rushing out there. Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore, what with my curiosity prodding me to go to him. I didn't rush, though. I walked.

  Damian wasn't outside anymore. A sign on the wagon's door said, "Knock, please. The spirits appreciate politeness."

  Oh yeah, that sounded like a Damian thing to say.

  I knocked on the door.

  Damian swung it open a split second after I knocked. His lips curved into an enticing smile. "Glad you came, Heidi. Welcome to my lair."

  He stepped back enough to make room for me and offered me his hand.

  I accepted it, and he helped me into the wagon, shutting the door.

  Whatever I'd expected to find in here, I'd been dead wrong. The space was cozy and homey, but with an elegant gypsy style that made it intriguing. The entire interior was composed of wood in warm, rich shades of honey, from the floor to the walls to the ceiling. A blue velvet curtain cordoned off the front section, the part fur
thest from the door. The rest of the space featured a padded bench upholstered in shades of gold, blue, and green, as well as a small round table fashioned from honey-colored wood and topped with a gold tablecloth. I saw shelves of knickknacks too, everything from a crystal ball to little figurines of magical creatures. A long window behind the bench let in the natural light, but I saw a lamp and an overhead light fixture too.

  The table sat low to the floor, surrounded by pillows.

  Earlier, I'd fantasized about Damian and a stack of pillows, but this was nothing like what I'd imagined. These pillows clearly served as seats.

  "Sit down," Damian said. "The bench or the pillows, whichever you prefer."

  I settled onto the bench, loving the cushy padding. "What's behind the curtain?"

  "The Great and Powerful Oz, of course."

  "Cute. But seriously, what's back there?"

  Damian walked to the curtain, hunched over a little since the wagon wasn't as tall as he was. He pulled back one side of the curtain, revealing a bed accessed by wooden steps. Cream-colored sheets and a scarlet blanket covered the bed, with cream-colored pillows scattered across the length of it up against the wall. Sunlight shined through a small window at the center of the wagon's back wall.

  "Your love nest?" I asked.

  "The wagon came this way. I didn't ask for a bed." He let the curtain fall shut. "I do occasionally sleep in here, but I've never seduced a woman on that bed—or anywhere in this wagon."

  I shouldn't have cared whether he had done that or not, but I felt bizarrely relieved to hear him declare he hadn't. "You seduce women outdoors, then? Or in your room?"

  "No, Heidi, I don't. I haven't had sex since before the first time I came here."

  He'd been celibate? Why? Damian seemed like the kind of passionate man who would never go without sex for long. But it had been months for him?

  "I shocked you," he said, sitting down at the table, cross-legged on a royal-blue pillow. "You've been assuming I'm the kind of guy who screws a woman every night, haven't you? I'm not like that."

  "Yeah, I, um, can see that now. Sorry I leaped to that assumption."

  "Don't worry about it. What other people think doesn't matter to me." He folded his hands on the tabletop. "Except for you."

  He cared what I thought. That was weird and slightly disturbing.

  But it also made me feel warm all over like I'd drunk a glass of brandy. Yeah, Damian was intoxicating—and I hadn't even slept with him yet.

  Not that I would sleep with him.

  "Did you want a palm reading?" he asked. "Or maybe tarot? You must've come here for a reason."

  "I wanted to see your wagon, the inside of it." I glanced around to admire the lush surroundings again, then I ran my palms over the velvet cushions beneath me. "It's beautiful. Very cozy."

  "No other reason? Just wanted to get a look at my secret den of mystical sorcery?"

  He smiled with his lips sealed, the expression sexy and mysterious, worthy of the Ludar prince he claimed to be.

  And God, I wanted him.

  "I should go," I told him. "You must have paying customers waiting for you."

  "My gypsy hours are over. I'm all yours." He patted the pillow next to his on the floor. "Come over here, Heidi. Let me read your palm."

  His voice had gotten lower and rougher, so enticing that I couldn't stop myself from sliding off the bench and crawling onto that cushion. I sat cross-legged like he did. No more than a foot separated us, and the proximity sent a warm tingle of excitement rushing over my skin. The hairs on my arms shivered erect. So did my nipples.

  "Are you right-handed or left-handed?" he asked.

  "Right."

  "We'll start with the left, then. It can tell me more about your character and personality than your dominant hand. Though I don't need to read your palm to know what kind of woman you are." He held out his hand, palm up. "Trust me, this won't hurt."

  I wasn't worried about that. If he touched me, even my hand, I didn't know if I could stop myself from kissing him again. I should've walked out the door, but I couldn't move except to hold out my left hand to him.

  He turned it palm up and cradled my hand in his. "Ready?"

  "Uh, sure. Never done anything like this before."

  "I'd love to be the one who pops your palm-reading cherry."

  Why did he have to phrase it like that? Spoken in his sexy rumble, those words sounded like the most erotic come-on ever.

  With my hand cupped in his, he bowed his head and lifted his free hand to skim his fingertips over my palm, moving them slowly, focused on the task of…whatever it was he was doing. The sensation of his fingers on my skin elicited a shiver of the sensual kind. I'd been acutely aware of him before this moment, but now, my body awakened in ways I'd never experienced before. I swore the touch of his hand and his fingers reached beneath my skin, like he was already inside me, thrusting with leisurely strokes of his cock while his skin brushed over my entire body. The memory of kissing him replayed in my mind. The heat of his mouth. The softness of his lips. The sensuous way his tongue coiled around mine and flicked out to taste me. I loved kissing him, and I hungered to do it again, right here, right now.

  Damian turned my hand over and began caressing the backside.

  I couldn't catch my breath. Everything between my thighs tingled and ached, desperate for his touch. God, I needed him to fuck me, like I'd never needed anything before—and he'd only touched my hand.

  He turned it palm up again, gazing up at me without lifting his head. "You have long palms and fingers, and your skin is silky soft. That means you have water hands, Heidi. Souls like yours are full of compassion, imagination, and curiosity. You're also sensitive, emotionally."

  "Yeah, I'm a flake. I already knew that."

  "Being sensitive isn't a bad thing. Unless you get too wrapped up in the emotion of every moment and forget to take care of yourself."

  He must have guessed that based on the things I'd told him earlier. Palm reading was hooey, right? But the feel of his skin on mine made it hard to breathe or think or do anything except watch him while he examined my palm.

  Damian swirled his longest finger over the center of my palm, then glided it up to the base of my index finger, massaging the fleshy spot there. "Your Mount of Jupiter is hard to figure out. It's not large, but not sunken either. You have confidence, but sometimes you forget that, and you have a connection to the spiritual world."

  "Are you talking about ghosts?"

  "Not necessarily. There are many forms of spirits." He moved his fingertip to the base of my middle finger and skated it in a circle. "Your Mount of Saturn is average, I'd say, but it shows you have integrity." He shifted to the next finger over and glanced up at me, his head still bowed. "The Mount of Apollo signifies optimism and the strength of your life essence. Your vitality burns inside you like a smoldering fire, just waiting for a chance to erupt."

  I cleared my throat, unable to make my vocal cords work. My breasts felt heavy, my skin tight, and the strength of my lust for him made my breaths shallower and faster.

  "Ah, the Mount of Mercury," he said, his tone hushed and so damn sexy as he moved his finger to the spot just under my pinky. "This one is well-developed, which tells me what I already knew. You're a smart, capable woman."

  He dragged his finger across the center of my palm, teasing the most sensitive part and making me suck in a sharp breath, then he slid it toward the bottom of my hand, below my pinky. He rubbed that area with his thumb in gentle circles until my skin grew so sensitized to his touch that I bit down on my bottom lip to stave off a whimper.

  "Just like I thought," he said, "you have incredible compassion and imagination, though you don't harness that power to its full potential. Not yet."

  "Oh." That syllable was partly a reply to what he said, but mostly it was my breathless response to the way he touched me. How could massaging my hand feel so sensual that I'd lost al
l capacity for thought? With anyone else, it wouldn't. I knew that, though I couldn't explain how.

  "And now, the Mount of Venus." He glided his thumb over to the base of mine and massaged that fleshy area while he spoke. "Can you guess what this region signifies?"

  "I…don't know." My brain shut down a few minutes ago, so yeah, I had no clue about anything. "Tell me, please."

  He leaned toward me, still massaging the base of my thumb, bringing his face to within inches of mine. "Passion, sensuality, attraction, and magnetism." He gazed straight into my eyes. "You have all of those qualities. That's why you're so anxious these days, isn't it? Because you're fighting your natural instincts, the ones that drive you to indulge your desires."

  Indulge my desires? I used to do that, too much, and it got me into trouble. Maybe I did burn to indulge my lust for Damian, but it was a horrible idea. Another round of humiliation wouldn't do me any good. Still, I couldn't stop myself from gazing into his eyes, letting myself sink into the depths of this heady desire for him. His mouth hovered so close to mine that I could've kissed him if I slanted in a touch.

  "You're a special woman, Heidi," he murmured. "Don't hide behind cargo pants and a baseball cap. Let your inner goddess come out to play."

  Oh God, I wanted to do that. Strip naked, crawl over his entire body, take his cock into my mouth and—

  No, not again. No, no, no, no. I was tumbling head over heels into another mistake, and this time, I didn't know if I could claw my way out again.

  I jumped up. "Sorry, I can't—This is—I just can't."

  "Take it easy. I didn't mean to upset you, but I got a little carried away. I apologize." He patted the cushion I'd been sitting on. "Come on, don't leave yet. Please."

  "No, I can't. Sorry. It's me, not you."

  I staggered to the door and flung it open. As I clambered down the steps, Damian called out to me.

  "We haven't even gotten to Mars or the lines yet."

  No idea what that meant, but it didn't matter. I ran to the guest house, heading for my room.

  Chapter Ten

  Damian

  What was that about? Heidi panicked and bolted, all because of a palm reading. I'd stuck to the principles of palmistry, but okay, maybe I got a little too invested in the process. Touching Heidi felt so good I couldn't stop myself. She smelled good too. And looked good. I should have kept my head down, focused on the reading, instead of looking into her eyes. Her pupils had gotten bigger, a sure sign of desire, and she kept licking her lips, though I was positive she didn't realize she was doing that.