‘I just want you,’ she said.
He was powerful and strong and she wanted him to be entirely hers. The way she’d just been his. He was so controlled—too controlled. But at her words that glint lit in his eyes. He lifted his head and pulled his hips back, only to surge close again—anchoring himself deep within her. Impossibly, excitement flowed again, firing her lax muscles into anticipation. Into movement. She rocked beneath him, provoking another fierce thrust from him. She held his gaze—proud, uninhibited. He was in her, with her, and he would give her what she wanted. Himself. That delicious sensation arrowed from her core out to every extremity, curling her muscles in the tight torture of bliss.
‘Ash.’ She could barely think of her words. ‘I want you...’
She didn’t know what to do with herself. She was so unprepared for the emotions tumbling through her. And he knew. In the triumph that flashed just before his self-control crumbled she saw his satisfaction. But then he moved—faster, harder, finally out of control, and his grip was tight and his intensity ferocious. His breath came short and quick to match hers as he thrust deeper and harder. And she loved it. She absolutely, hungrily, desperately loved it. She moaned, unrestrained, her response flying full and free, and she revelled as he groaned in reply. He talked, then, in a low growl, expressing the desire, the pleasure, the want, the sheer celebration of finally being right here. Like this. With her. In her. Again and again and again.
The words, the action, the kiss, the carnal completion pushed her to a place she’d never imagined. To a place where time stilled and sensation soared. She arched in a moment of sensual agony. And then devastatingly fierce fireworks exploded from the centre of her body, cascading in blinding brilliance. She screamed as she shook and then tears tumbled as the sensations overtook everything. She was torn to pieces by pure pleasure.
He cried out too. Growling her name with a desperate moan as he lost control in her arms.
But he didn’t let her go. He held her. He stroked her hair back from her face, brushed away the few tears that she couldn’t stop. They were of pleasure and wonder, gratitude and, okay, yes, with a whisper of sadness. Of not having known for so long that life could and should include this.
He kissed her gently as she slowly calmed. He caressed her carefully until the oversensitivity of her skin was soothed and she accepted the extent to which she’d just been irrevocably altered. Not just by having sex, but also by the joy of having someone treat her with passion and tenderness and with utter focus on her needs. Of being gifted an experience so profoundly intimate and pleasurable. One she would never regret, never forget.
And then he did it to her all over again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘DO YOU NEVER sleep in?’
Ash chuckled at Merle’s drowsy question as he set a coffee beside her. He’d always had more energy than he knew what to do with.
‘No lie-in ever?’ She stifled another yawn.
‘Drink this and get dressed—’
‘Dressed?’ She half pouted. ‘Is that necessary?’
He paused to appreciate the glimpse of unguarded, luscious laziness. Quiet, primly hard-working Merle had melted into a warm, messy woman who’d whispered what she wanted and destroyed him.
‘You’re not tempting me back to bed with you,’ he said firmly.
Actually, she totally was, but after last night he wanted to see if he could resist—even for a few minutes. He needed fresh air to clear his head and the warmth of the sun on his skin to bring back his energy. And he wanted to share that with her.
‘I have plans.’ He tempted her with a little mystery. ‘Good ones, I promise.’
‘You promise?’ She eyed him with teasing amusement. ‘That’s big.’
‘Not the only thing that’s big.’ He winked and walked out, chuckling at the groan that followed him.
Fifteen minutes later he smiled again at the sight of her. Back in the black coveralls, she had a hint of heat in her cheeks despite her teasing banter just before. She looked at him and their gazes meshed. Neither of them spoke, yet everything from the night before flickered in his mind. Her gaze suddenly slipped and she intently studied the basket on the kitchen counter as the colour in her cheeks rose. His heart missed a beat and for a moment that feeling returned—the hesitation, the confusion of whether this was the right thing.
Too late now.
He’d taken her—had his way with every inch of her body. Yet he’d not had his fill. Thank heaven he had the week to satisfy her. He’d thought it pure novelty, but now fierce determination flooded him, drowning that uncommon tendril of doubt that had sprouted again. He’d give her an affair she’d never forget.
She reached for the basket. ‘We’re going...’
‘On an adventure.’ He batted her hand away, not letting her see what he’d packed. ‘You might want to bring a swimsuit.’
Her smile flashed back. ‘You just want me out of my coveralls.’
‘You just think I’m shallow.’ He scooped up the basket and led her to the shed down by the water. ‘Are you okay with boating?’
‘Do we have to paddle?’ She shot him a sideways look.
‘No.’ He laughed as he unlocked the door. ‘We have a motor.’
‘Oh, wow.’ She stared at the classic motorboat that was stored pride of place in the shed. She fluttered her fingertips along the smooth, highly varnished wood as he opened the rear doors out onto the ramp. ‘It’s fabulous—we should be on the Italian riviera.’ She looked at the other equipment stored in the big shed. ‘You really do have all the toys.’
He glanced around the walls briefly before focusing back on the boat he’d not been out in for a decade. ‘Most of it’s new, but we’ve had this beauty for as long as I can remember. My mother bought it but I guess it was too valuable for my father to part with,’ Ash muttered. ‘Even when she was too unwell to walk, I’d carry her down for a spin on the water.’
‘That must’ve been hard.’
‘It was kind of normal.’ He tried to pull together some perspective. ‘There were good moments here.’
But there’d been bad moments too. And the last tainted all other memories of this house. Disappointing someone who really mattered, hurting them irreparably, was the worst. And he had to live with it for the rest of his life. He couldn’t change it. Forgiveness could never be attained.
‘Ash?’
At that soft query he reluctantly glanced over. The compassion in Merle’s gaze had deepened. He didn’t deserve it. ‘Shall we see if it starts?’ He turned away.
The engine coughed, then roared to life.
‘First try.’ She picked up the basket and came down to the end of the ramp. ‘Does it go fast or is it just for show?’ She shot him a look as she shrugged on the life jacket he handed to her.
That look was like a spark, bringing him back to the present. He smiled. ‘It goes fast.’
Merle beamed. ‘I expected nothing less.’
Onboard he let the engine go, whizzing them out along the coastline and past the next couple of bays. Then he headed inland. Merle curled cross-legged on the navy cushions, her face tilted towards the morning sun, her eyes closed. Ash realised almost too late he wasn’t watching where he was steering. He cut the engine so he didn’t crash them into the dock by accident. Merle blinked at their destination, directing a questioning look at him a second later.
‘You must be hungry—you haven’t had breakfast.’ He stepped from the boat onto the dock.
‘Isn’t there food in the basket?’
‘No. That has other essentials.’ He tethered the boat securely.
‘Surely it’s too early for it to be open?’
Five stars and famous, the restaurant had a waiting list a mile long, so he couldn’t quite understand Merle’s audible reluctance. ‘We’re just picking up a package. It won’t take a mo
ment. Come on.’
Ash knew the owner and had phoned ahead to ensure they had what he needed. Up at the building, the door was open.
‘Hey, Josie.’ He gave the waiting woman a quick hug.
‘It’s been for ever, Ash.’
‘It has,’ he acknowledged briefly. ‘Thank you for doing this.’
‘Of course.’ Josie smiled, not even trying to hide her curiosity. ‘Are you staying long? What are your plans for the house?’
‘I’m not sure yet.’
A total lie. He’d have an assistant finalise the sale as soon as he returned to Sydney. Interested buyers had been trying to contact him for months but he’d avoided their calls. Having seen the house now, understanding the changes, there was no question what he’d do. His heart seized and he instinctively turned, seeking his favourite distraction. Besides, he didn’t want Merle thinking he didn’t want to introduce her to Josie. But she’d vanished. Frowning, he looked more keenly for her and spotted a flash through the window. She’d disappeared into the shadows just outside to intently study some sign.
He thanked Josie again and hurried to catch Merle before she disappeared altogether.
‘Why didn’t you come in?’ he asked as he walked her back to the boat.
‘You didn’t want anyone to know you were here. I imagined you wouldn’t want to be seen with anyone else either.’
She didn’t realise that he was pretty much always seen with someone—that it was more unusual for him to be alone in social spaces. Maybe her decision had nothing to do with him. Maybe she’d been playing safe, the way she always did around other people. And she said nothing more now. Did she not talk to people unless they spoke to her first? Did she always hide? Always only work? His curiosity escalated. Why was that? And why the hell was she homeless? She was intelligent and did a good job. What had gone wrong in her life for her to be as alone as she seemed to be?
As they chugged back out into the bay, he watched her relax. He wanted to see her step out into the sunlight again. Her knew she liked the warmth of it. He thought she needed it. But he said nothing, knowing when to hold and when to play his hand. Fifteen minutes later, he slowed the boat and guided it to the small private bay that the outgoing tide had exposed.
She glanced back at him. ‘Ash. This place is magical.’
Yes. It was the perfect place for the Merle he’d first met that night—the Merle who’d been in her element in her bath full of bubbles and beauty.
‘It’s actually still our property, but it’s only accessible by boat and only at the right time with the tide.’ He jumped into the water and held up his hand to help her down.
‘So you timed this ’specially?’
He had.
‘And this is your idea of breakfast?’ Merle giggled as he unpacked the container Josie had handed to him. ‘Champagne and oysters?’
He grinned. He’d known she’d appreciate it—and sharing this with her? This was fun. ‘Aren’t you going to have any?’
He’d poured the champagne and shucked four oysters already, and apparently all Merle could do was stare.
‘I’ve never eaten them,’ she confessed.
‘Ever?’
She shook her head.
‘Here’s to another first, then.’ Suddenly he had so many firsts in his head for her. He couldn’t help teasing. ‘You’ve heard they’re an aphrodisiac?’
‘Ash.’ She glanced at him with those gorgeous eyes. ‘I don’t think I need an aphrodisiac. Right now I need something to calm me down and make me rational again.’
Her slightly husky, sassy honesty stopped his heart.
‘But I like irrational Merle the best,’ he countered.
‘Is it hard to shuck them?’ She watched him pull another shell from the container, chips of ice scattering onto the sand.
‘No. I holidayed here every summer all my youth.’ He laughed and passed her a half-shell. The plump oyster gleamed.
‘You first,’ she muttered, looking very doubtfully at the succulent blob.
He obliged, then raised his brows at her. She took the next one he held out and drew a breath. He watched as the salty treat disappeared between her sweet lips.
‘Thoughts?’ he asked when she’d swallowed.
‘I’m...not sure.’ Her nose wrinkled.
He laughed, again enjoying her honesty. ‘Try another.’
She sipped her champagne to wash it down and Ash broke into the fresh-made fluffy bread and the twist of paper with home-churned butter that had also been in the parcel from the restaurant. She was very appreciative of that combination. He smiled, hiding the aching urge to kiss her, but he knew where that would lead and he still had that odd yearning to prove self-restraint to himself.
Merle finished her bread, licked her lips and suddenly stood.
‘Are you going in the water?’ he asked as she stepped across the sand.
She glanced back at him. ‘I thought I would.’
‘Not in those coveralls—you’ll drown.’
‘Then I’d better take it off.’ A flicker of colour built in her cheeks. ‘I need to clear my head.’
She had a simple black tee beneath and she slipped that over her head to reveal scarlet underwear. Scarlet. He sat back on his hands, tickled. She hadn’t had the opportunity to go shopping in the last twenty-four hours, so those scarlet strips of silk weren’t new, weren’t bought specially for his benefit nor any other lover’s. These were hers, bought for her own pleasure. The heat in his belly exploded. He liked that she indulged herself—those little individual puddings, the bubble bath, the scarlet silk. Her combination of inexperience and earthiness, of sensuality and hesitation with that occasional unpredictability fascinated him.
The urge to chase her was growing. His muscles tensed with the need to wrap her legs around his waist and hold her close. But this was more than his usual desire for release—more than a merely physical ache. This was more fun and more precious. He made himself remain still and watch—appreciating her full, gorgeous curves and inner effervescence as she giggled at the temperature of the water. He only lasted ten seconds before he threw aside any stupid thoughts of self-restraint. He only had a week and it suddenly felt like nothing. He quickly pulled what he needed from the basket and stripped off.
Moments later, he dived after her like the shark he was. He wound his arm around her waist, and to his infinite satisfaction she curled her arms around his neck. Kissing her was pure pleasure. He couldn’t deny her. Couldn’t deny himself. Even after last night, he wanted her more. She’d unlocked a vault of hunger in him. He carried her out of the water and set her down.
‘This is a gorgeous rug,’ she practically purred.
‘Essential,’ he breathed.
He’d tossed it down in those frantic seconds before joining her in the water. Because he didn’t want her sand-burned, didn’t want her soft skin marked in any way. He rolled onto his back so she was above him. Time stretched. A treasure trove of possibility spread over him. He peeled away the scarlet to bare her breasts. She was stunning and he could hardly stand it as she swept her hands, her mouth, her body over his. This was a woman lost in the throes of desire, exploring her sensuality with him. And he’d never felt as lucky. It felt like a first time for him too—this discovery.
‘Like that?’ she asked, a breathless sweet echo of his own check-in with her last night. Ensuring understanding, acceptance, pleasure.
The blue sky was a background to her beauty. Brilliant, almost blinding, the whole world seemed hot and vital. She writhed above him—with a moan, with a choked laugh. His heart beat painfully. She killed him. Never had he experienced such sweet, heady enjoyment. She was fresh and intoxicating and wicked. She didn’t offer the slick moves of a lover aiming to please another. This was too innocent, the expression in her eyes too dazed. Joining her in this was a privilege t
hat he could only strive to deserve—vowing to make it better for her still. She groaned as he worked his hand between them, feeling her flaring response—and his own complete unravelling.
‘You’re stunning.’ And he was helpless. Unable to think of anything more intelligent to say as she made him arch and shout, ‘Merle!’
‘I didn’t think it could get better than last night.’ Merle drowsily studied Ash but couldn’t get a read on what he was thinking. He sipped his drink, gazing across the water, his breathing taking time to slow. And as she too slowly recovered, she began to imagine the full extent of the week’s possibilities.
He glanced down and met her gaze, his mouth quirking. ‘You look like a satisfied kitten.’
‘Kitten?’ she echoed with mock outrage. She did not want to be a kitten. ‘Can’t I be a panther?’
He answered with another bitingly gentle kiss and suddenly she was all out of shy patience. She didn’t want more games. She just wanted him. She broke free from his gorgeously decadent lips and breathlessly asked him to take total advantage of her again.
‘You’ve gone to so much trouble,’ she muttered as she pulled the soft blanket higher up her shoulders another half-hour later.
‘I really haven’t,’ he laughed lazily.
Perhaps for him it wasn’t a bother. Perhaps all these things that were luxuries for her, were simply normal to him.
‘Well...’ she smiled a little sadly ‘...I appreciate it, so thank you anyway.’
He turned that intense gaze of his back on her and she saw questions in his eyes.
‘Talk to me,’ he muttered. ‘Tell me everything.’
She shook her head. ‘I’m pretty boring, Ash.’
‘No. You’re an enigma.’
‘As flattering as that is...’ She shuffled lower in the rug he’d cocooned about them. ‘You’re in for disappointment.’
‘You’re not used to talking about yourself?’
‘Not used to someone being interested.’ She laughed to let him know she was joking. Except they both knew it wasn’t a joke. It was a sad, self-piteous truth that she instantly regretted uttering.
Stranded For One Scandalous Week (Mills & Boon Modern) (Rebels, Brothers, Billionaires Book 1) Page 10
