I know my team can handle me being away for that long—but can I? Especially if it means being here with Jamie twenty-four-seven.
I stare at him, hating him for doing this to me, but at the same time feeling a weird sense of pride that he’s going to such lengths to have me. I can see from the small tick in his jaw that he’s feeling the tension here too. He’s a little afraid that I’ll refuse to stay and he’ll never be able to satisfy himself that he’s good enough to get one over on me. That he can beat me.
I suppose I can stay long enough to convince him he has. It’s no big deal, really. Just a couple more days of play-acting.
I can do that.
I give him an assured nod. ‘Okay. Fine. I’ll stay for a couple of days. Three maximum. That’s all I can afford to have away. We’re very busy at the moment and things start to fall apart if my team can’t get hold of me when they need quick answers to things.’
‘Well they’re just going to have to cope,’ he says with a lopsided grin, evidently feeling he’s won this battle. ‘You have to promise not to make or take any business calls while you’re here. I want your undivided attention.’
I swallow hard. That’s going to be tough. I’m usually on the phone all day long when I’m not in the office, but I guess I can cope if I’m able to brief everyone first.
‘Agreed,’ I say. ‘As long as you give me an hour now to prep everyone.’
‘Okay. You have one hour,’ he says with a slow grin full of wicked promise. ‘Then you’re all mine.’
Jamie
I’ve done it. I’ve convinced her to stay. Which means I have a real shot at getting her to open up to me.
I’m going to take a lot of pleasure in teasing and provoking her, getting her all hot and bothered, dazed and befuddled with lust.
Then I’m going to take great pleasure in breaking her.
It’s going to be a lot of fun.
And hopefully it’ll finally give me the peace and closure I’ve been craving.
‘I’ll let you have the room,’ I say, strolling past her. ‘But I’ll be back in one hour exactly.’
I don’t turn around and look at her again, imagining her expression of determination to make this work, no matter what she’s going to have to put up with from me.
But she needn’t worry. I’ll be kind. In fact, I’m going to be the perfect host. Friendly and courteous, generous and fair.
I’m a gentleman, after all.
I pace away from the library, through the hallway, then open the front door and walk towards the beach. Despite the knowledge that my plan is going well, I’m still filled with a nervy sort of energy. Being in such close proximity to her back there in the library has put me on edge. It was like torture, holding myself back from returning her kiss and ignoring the firm press of her body up against mine. My cock ached to conclude what we’d started a few weeks ago, but I know it would’ve been disastrous to give in to my carnal need, to strip that sexy white suit off her and make her moan right there, laid out across my desk.
Fuck.
I have to take a deep, calming breath and focus on the horizon with its fluffy white clouds dotted in random patterns across the brilliant azure blue, to snap my thoughts away from that particular fantasy. I’ll get to do it at some point. Just not yet.
The sea is calm today and gently laps at the sand as I stroll up and down the beach, matching my breathing to the rise and fall of my feet to bring me back to a state of composure. The water looks inviting and I imagine how fantastic it would feel, rushing over my overheated skin.
Hell, I don’t know why I’m stopping myself. I have some time to kill, after all.
So I strip off. Everything. There’s no other island even remotely near enough from where I can be seen and boats rarely sail close enough to my shore for anyone to spot me flashing my dick at them.
As I anticipated, the cool water on my skin feels incredible as I wade into the sea, pushing against the rhythmic swell of the waves. Shivers of pleasure rush through me as I go from the searing hot heat of the day to the cold depths of the clear, aquamarine water.
I’m intensely aware of my heart thumping against my chest as I begin to swim away from the shore. She’s done that to me, April, with her attempt to seduce me into completing the deal before I was ready. I’m feeling a mixture of irritation, sexual frustration and longing now and I know I need to pull myself together before I face her again or I might end up doing something I regret later. Timing is everything here.
I manage to work off most of the adrenaline surging through my veins by swimming hard up and down parallel to the shore, changing my stroke on each turn. Finally, breathless and thoroughly worked out, I turn back towards the shore and let the waves carry me back towards the beach. As soon as it’s possible, I put my feet down onto the ever-shifting sand and stand up. The water is still chest-deep and as I straighten I feel my hard cock—which has refused to go down despite the vigorous exercise and my attempts to try and blank my mind of her—bob against my stomach.
Instinctively I reach down into the water and take it in my hand, giving it a firm tug, trying to placate my need to be touched. But it’s not enough. Not nearly enough. Now the memory of April pressed up against that wall at the charity fundraiser with me thrusting inside her, her mouth slack and her eyes wide with desire, spins into my head and I can’t help but give my dick a couple more rough tugs in response to it.
The look she’d had in her eyes reminded me of the way she used to look at me when we were together. With such open heat and devotion. One of my favourite recollections from that long-ago time was when she was on her knees in front of me with my cock deep in her throat, her eyes open and fixed on mine. Totally subservient. Totally turned on. Totally trusting as I slid in and out of her mouth, feeling her tongue working hard at the end of my cock, catching a spot in a way she knew sent me crazy.
I turn away from the house and face out to sea, the memory playing on repeat in my mind as I work my dick in serious strokes now. I need the release from the erotic thrall she has me in so I can go back in there and maintain control over the situation. And this seems to be the only way to get that.
Closing my eyes, I concentrate on the image of her taking my cock in her mouth again, satisfying my greedy need. My hand works frantically, my thumb catching the head, and I imagine it’s her mouth and tongue on me, sucking, licking and swallowing. Taking me deep, her eyes staring into mine with a look of utter reverence.
I come hard, my body shaking with blessed relief, my semen mixing with the salty body of water and floating away with my happy memories and crushed dreams.
Hell, I miss what we had.
CHAPTER FOUR
April
I FINISH MY final phone call fifty-five minutes after Jamie left me alone in the library and turn the ringer off before slipping my mobile into my bag. I’m not going to turn it off fully, just in case there’s an emergency, despite agreeing not to take any calls. Not that Jamie needs to know that. I’ll be discreet.
I turn to look out of the wide windows which afford a magnificent view of the sea, showing only a couple of small islands in the far distance. We really are cut off here. Alone together. A shiver rushes over my skin, but it’s not fear. I think it’s actually nervous expectation. Or something like it. It’s been a long time since I took any kind of holiday and, even though I’ll be on the whole time I’m here with Jamie, at least I’ll be doing it on a sun-drenched island.
My gaze snags on a movement in the distance. There’s something in the sea, right in front of the white sand beach I’d seen as the yacht had come in to dock at the island’s small harbour.
I peer harder. It’s not a something, it’s a someone. It’s Jamie. He’s chest-deep in the water, his bare, broad back to me, and he appears to be staring out to sea as if transfixed. But there’s a strange movement happening. His right arm a
nd shoulder are jerking up and down, making the muscles in his powerful back bunch then release.
It takes me a moment to realise what’s going on. He’s masturbating.
Is that because of me? Of what could have happened here in the library before he stopped it? Before he told me he wanted to build the anticipation? Is he, in actual fact, having trouble with that notion himself?
The thought of it sends a surge of relief through me. So it’s not just me struggling with the tension between us. Good. That gives me more power here than I thought I had. I can use that.
I can’t tear my eyes away from him, though. I’m transfixed. Hot pressure pools at the juncture to my thighs and I feel my pussy swell and throb with interest. I’ve not felt this turned on in years. I’ve had plenty of sex since I broke up with Jamie, but my sex drive hasn’t been the same, and I often don’t orgasm, or orgasm well. Not that it’s bothered me that much. I’ve put it down to using all my sexual energy for working as hard as I do, which to me has been a fair trade-off. But my libido seems to have come raging back to life since that night at the charity ball. The coitus interruptus has left me with a strange, hollow sort of ache inside me. One I’ve not been able to sate by myself, no matter how many times I’ve tried.
Thanks to Jamie and his tormenting games.
The obnoxious bastard.
His movements seem to reach a crescendo and a wave of electric lust crashes over me as I see his shoulders first stiffen, then slump in relief.
Strange echoes of what I imagine he must be feeling ripple through me and I’m almost jealous of him. I suddenly want to be that abandoned. That un-self-conscious and free to enjoy my desires again.
As I used to be when I was with him.
A memory sidesteps into my mind of how he used to send me sexually charged text messages an hour before he was due to arrive at my place. He’d describe in explicit detail what he was going to do to me when he arrived, then he’d demand I go into my bedroom and masturbate until the point I thought I was going to come. As soon as I felt on the cusp of an orgasm I had to stop, save it for him to finish when he arrived.
At first I laughed off the idea of doing this, embarrassed by the idea of him knowing I was masturbating—a subject I’d never discussed with anyone before because I’d thought of it as a private and somewhat shameful act. But after some persuasion he’d convinced me it would be a fun game and that I shouldn’t feel at all bad about the idea of giving myself pleasure. That it was a basic human right to give ourselves orgasms.
So I’d tried it, feeling foolish at first. But once I’d pushed past the primal shame and embarrassment it had become exciting and illicit. Because it was something only the two of us knew about: a personal, secret world of pleasure that we shared. It had deepened the connection between us because it was a true exercise in trust.
And I came to love it.
I have to admit, it became really bloody tough as time went on, holding myself back from the release I desperately needed after an hour of self-denial, but it was so worth it. The orgasms I’d had once he finally allowed me to have them were out of this world...
I’m dragged out of my erotic reverie as I realise he’s turning around to face the house again, his magnificent chest sparkling in the brilliant sunshine with drops of sea water. I can see the power emanating from his well-worked-out body from all the way over here. All those hours training and playing tennis have left him with a physique to die for. I’m having immense trouble taking my eyes off him, but I don’t want him to know I’ve been watching him, so as soon as he starts to push through the water and back towards the beach I move swiftly away from the window and face into the room.
I pace the floor as I wait for him to return, my knickers distressingly damp. I want to touch myself. To ease the pressure of need that’s built between my legs, making my pussy throb with a yearning to be attended to. But I daren’t risk it. I have to project an image of cool detachment here in order to maintain my pride. I can’t let him catch me, either with my hand in my pants or with a healthy flush from the orgasm that’s now screaming for release.
Damn it.
Why did I let myself stand there for so long and watch? As soon as I realised what he was doing I should have looked away.
But I hadn’t and now I’m paying the price.
The library door opens and Jamie comes strolling in, his shirt clinging enticingly to his still damp-chest and his hair hanging in wet strands across his forehead. A bead of water escapes the hollow of his collarbone and runs down between his pecs, vanishing into the material of his shirt.
My breath catches in the back of my throat.
‘Time’s up,’ he says in a low, seductive tone which my pussy immediately responds to.
Hell, this is challenging. My whole body is vibrating with tension as he stands there and assesses me with that astute gaze of his.
Can he sense how I’m feeling right now? It wouldn’t surprise me. He always had an uncanny ability to read me, even when I was outwardly trying to not give him a reaction.
I take a mental breath and reach for a calm place in my head. Force myself to think strategically.
Actually, maybe it’s a good thing I’m so turned on. If he makes any kind of move on me now it’ll be easy to reach the orgasm he’s so intent on getting out of me. There won’t be any play-acting needed. All I need to do is think of him as a warm body, an orgasm machine, a very large vibrator or man-sized sex toy, perhaps.
A smile pushes at the corners of my mouth at the thought of that.
‘Something funny?’ he asks, advancing towards me. My mouth dries instantly as I catch the scent of him in the air. It’s his natural musky fragrance mixed with the smell of the briny sea: fresh, sharp and seductive.
‘I’m just speculating about what you’re intending to do to me for the next few days,’ I counter. ‘And I’m wondering whether you’ve got the balls to go through with it.’
His eyebrows shoot up. ‘Believe me, I have the balls and I’m not afraid to use them.’
I nod, keeping it cool. ‘I only ask because it looks like the heat’s getting to you.’ I give him a taunting smile. ‘Have you just taken a cold shower?’
His hand goes to his damp shirt then back down to his side, where he clenches it into a loose fist. Is he wondering whether I saw him?
‘I’ve been for a swim in the sea,’ he says roughly. ‘You should try it. It’s a great way to relax.’
I suppress a knowing grin.
He moves even closer, so close I can feel the whisper of his breath on my skin, and my inner smile vanishes.
I think of all the things he could do to me right now to make me relax.
My body throbs with interest.
Perhaps he’ll tear at my clothes, like he did in the office at the fundraiser, then lower me to the floor and push my thighs apart to give him easy access to my needy pussy. Or maybe he’ll demand I do a slow striptease for him, watching me the whole time with a superior smile before beckoning me towards him and burying his face between my legs.
Oh, God, my nipples are rock-hard and pressing distractingly against the cups of my bra, as if they’re very interested in the idea of being free and available to his touch.
My breath feels ragged in my throat and is coming out in small pants, as if my body’s being starved of oxygen.
But it’s not oxygen I’m craving.
I moisten my dry lips with my tongue and see his gaze shoot to my mouth.
Is he going to kiss me now? God, I hope so. I’m desperate for him to take what he wants from me so I can get the hell away from his tormenting presence.
We’re standing so close I swear I can feel his heartbeat moving the air between us. It’s a heavy, erotic pulse which matches the insistent throb of need between my legs. The scent of him is deep in my nostrils, penetrating my resistance, drawing out m
y desire.
Please just kiss me. Please. Get this started already...
‘Speaking of relaxing, let me show you to the bedroom you’ll be staying in while you’re here,’ he says, startling me with his businesslike tone. ‘Give you some time to freshen up before dinner.’
The sudden change in atmosphere makes me blink and I instinctively cross my arms over my chest, feeling like an idiot. He’s really not going to touch me yet, even though I’m aching for him to do so. This is just another way to torture me.
He’s pretending to be a gentleman about it all, but I know that’s just a ruse.
He’s play-acting too.
Playing me at my own game.
Okay, then, fine. I guess it’s time to regroup and rethink my battle plan.
I nod in brisk agreement. ‘That would be great, thanks.’
He looks at me for a couple more beats, as if expecting me to say something else. Perhaps beg him to give me that orgasm he’s promised right now.
Never going to happen.
‘Follow me,’ he says finally, and I’m sure I catch a flash of disappointment in his face.
He leads me out of the library and up a sweeping staircase to the wide landing, which leads left to three doors and right to three more.
‘You’re the farthest room on the right,’ he says, gesturing in that direction. ‘You’ll find clothes in your size in the wardrobe if you’d like to change into something a little more casual. I’m guessing you didn’t bring your suitcase to the island with you.’ This time he gives me a warm, joshing sort of smile, as if I’m a friend who’s decided at the last minute to stay on for a fun weekend.
‘Thank you,’ I say stiffly. I refuse to smile back and play his game. We’re not friends now and we never will be again. He might know my clothes size but it doesn’t mean he knows me. Not any more.
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