by Cathryn Fox
You can’t go there.
“Are you hungry?” I ask, redirecting the conversation. No way am I about to let myself get wrapped up in her again. I won’t. The rational side of me understands that, the rest of me...well, the rest of me doesn’t give two shits if I fall flat on my face a second time.
Her stomach takes that moment to grumble, loudly.
Chuckling, I nudge her with my shoulder. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Her eyes go saucer wide as she puts her hands over her belly to hide the sound. “That wasn’t embarrassing at all.”
“No need to be embarrassed. Not with me.” I take the bag of clothes from her. “Do you want to drop these things off and go out and grab a bite to eat?”
“Sounds like a good idea. I haven’t eaten since the croissant earlier. Oh, speaking of...” She reaches into her purse and pulls out a white paper bag. She opens it and frowns. “They’re kind of squished.”
“No worries. We can get more. Did you like it?” I ask, hoping for a yes. Christ, I’m not sure why pleasing her, and wanting her to like what I like, has become so damn important to me.
Oh, Cason, don’t screw yourself over here.
“It was delicious,” she says and makes a little moaning sound that teases my cock. A gust of wind rushes down the street, blowing a paper cup. I stop to pick it up, drop it into a garbage can, and when I find her shivering, I lift the collar to cover her ears. Jesus, she’s adorable, and I take a moment to envision her in one of my button-down shirts, and nothing else. I bite back a groan as I imagine her long legs sleek and bare...wrapped around my shoulders. My dick grows, but the streets of Cannes, filled with tourists, is no place to be sporting a boner.
“Such a gentleman,” she says and gives me a smile as I secure a button that came undone. The appreciation in her eyes warms me more than a layer of wool ever could, and reminds me I was far from a gentleman as I ravished her this morning. Dammit, I’m not a teen, I shouldn’t have acted like a hormonal pubescent, an amateur with zero finesse eager to get into his girl’s pants. But this woman...and what she does to me is absurd.
“Ogre, pervert and now a gentleman,” I gruff to hide the way my heart is skipping around my chest like a child hyped up on sugar. “You’re going to have to make up your mind, Londyn. All these mixed messages are confusing me.”
She laughs, and the easy, carefree sound, one I haven’t heard since our college days, surrounds me, batters the wall around my fractured heart. Even though she apologized, and it came straight from a good and honest place, I tighten my guard, reconstruct those cracked walls before I bleed out again. I can’t go there with her.
“Give me time, I’ll come up with the perfect description before the two weeks are over,” she says.
I scoff. “Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about.” I step closer, wanting the contact with her for reasons I don’t want to identify.
She kicks at a pebble, her smile falling as her eyes lift to mine. “What were you going to say earlier, when I thought you were going to send me home?”
“I was going to say, I will send out for some supplies, fabrics, whatever you wish. You can create, design, do whatever you like while you’re here. I have lots of spare rooms. This is supposed to be an epic week for you, too, right, with lots of pampering. Since I’m not whisking you off to Paris, or wherever else you’d like to go—”
“There’s nowhere else, Cason,” she says, her words rushing out on a fast breath. “Right here is where I want to be. With you.”
“Okay,” I say. Tortured eyes lock on mine, and my gut clenches. What is she really doing here in Cannes, selling herself at an auction house, and why is she determined to stay here with me, a man she screwed over years ago? There was no denying her panic when she thought I was sending her home, and I want to know why that idea rattles her. Does it have something to do with her father? Perhaps what I should really be seeking answers to is, why am I so hell-bent on keeping her? A car speeds by, its revving engine pulling my thoughts back. We dodge a few tourists and continue down the sidewalk. “We’ll create a studio for you,” I say.
She stops walking, and it takes two long steps before I realize she’s no longer beside me. I turn to find her staring at me, her jaw open. “Was it something I said?” I ask and slide my hands into my pockets. I rock on my feet, studying her beautiful face as I meet her unwavering stare and wait for an answer.
“I...” She shakes her head and her honeyed hair falls over her shoulders. “That’s all too much. I’m supposed to be a companion for you.”
“It’s like this.” I reach out, take one of her hands and brush my thumb over her soft skin. Her fingers twist in mine as she visibly quivers under my touch and I wish I didn’t like her reaction so much. “I’ve never bought a woman’s companionship before, and you’ve never put yourself on the bidding block at an auction house before,” I say and wait for a counter argument. When none comes, I continue with, “So how about we write our own rules, and just live in this fantasy world you have going on in that head of yours.”
Her soft laugh curls around me. “You mean fairy tale?”
“Yes, same thing.”
She gives me a big smile and, catching me off guard, goes up on her toes and throws her arms around my shoulders. “This morning was sort of like a fairy tale to me.”
I tug her to me, her body warm, soft and pliable against mine. I breathe her in. Jesus, she smells like cake and candy and everything I want to put in my mouth. “If you play your cards right, tonight...” Before I finish, I lean forward and press my lips to hers, giving her a small sampling of things to come. I’m not normally one for public displays of affection, but I’m not about to let that stop me, not when I am pretty damn sure I’ll go up in a burst of fire and die a painful death if I don’t get my mouth on her. The tourists who are staring from across the street, well they can either fuck right off, or stay and enjoy the show.
Her lips are shaky and cold at first contact, but I deepen the kiss to warm her up, inside and out. We stand there and I hold her to me, sinking into a wet, sensuous kiss full of want and need. Only problem is, I fear my mouth on hers is less about kissing and more about claiming. With my brain barely working, a part of me registers that her hands have moved to my ears as the wind swirls around us. She covers them to keep them warm. As that thoughtful gesture pokes holes in my armor, my traitorous heart skips a few too many beats. I break the kiss and work to get my shit together.
“What is this about playing my cards right?” she asks, her voice heady and breathless, full of playfulness.
I scrape my thumb over her kiss-swollen bottom lip and work to ground myself in reality as a sexy, urgent little sound rises in her throat. An unbearable tightness grips my heart and I quickly remind myself we’re having sex, playing a game. Nothing more.
“Play them right and tonight maybe I’ll play the part of Prince Charming in this fairy-tale world of yours.”
“Hmm.” Her eyes narrow in thought as she bites her bottom lip.
“What, you have to think about it?” I ask with a laugh. I give her a playful shove, and she grins as she falters backward. “Hey if you don’t want Prince—”
“Actually, I always favored the Big Bad Wolf.”
Dammit.
I groan and tug her back to me. Her body collides with mine and need zaps my balls. Heat rockets through me, sizzling up my spine, and nearly fries my last working brain cell. “There’s a whole side of you I don’t know, isn’t there?”
“Who, me?” she asks innocently as she pokes her finger into my chest. “And what I’m thinking is instead of going out to eat, why don’t we stay in. We can order takeout, or we can cook, and when I say we, I mean you.”
“Come on,” I say and put my hand on the small of her back and usher her along the sidewalk.
She doubles her steps to keep up with me. “What�
��s the hurry?”
“I just realized how hungry I am.”
She reaches for her purse. “Why don’t you have a croissant to hold you over? I mean, I know they’re squished, but...”
I grin at her sweet naivety. “Oh, sweetheart, did you think it’s food I want to put into my mouth?”
“Oh,” she says, her eyes widening with anticipation, lust and want.
“Yeah, oh,” I say.
A sexy little moan slides past her lips, like she has no trouble with that revelation. Good, I want her hot and willing when we get home. “My mistake.”
That’s when I remember her grumbling stomach. “Dammit, we need to feed you though.”
“Come to think of it, there is only one thing I’m interested in putting in my mouth. This morning I didn’t get the chance.”
Need boils my blood, and I almost trip on an imaginary crack in the sidewalk. “Jesus, you didn’t just say that to me, did you?”
“I believe I did.”
A second later we’re practically running back to my villa. We’re both laughing and breathless by the time we reach the front door, and I’m so goddamn anxious to get my hands on her, I can barely get the key into the lock.
“Want me to do it?” she asks with a chuckle as she reaches for it.
I brush her hands away. “You don’t have to do everything you know. There are things I’m quite capable of handling myself.”
“Oh, I know, and I must say I do love this alpha side of you.”
“Alpha? You think this is alpha?” I tease.
I get the door open and haul her in with me. I pull her against me, hard. “You were this morning,” she says.
Shit. She’s right. I went at her like a goddamn caveman, breaking my own etiquette rules, and while she didn’t seem to have a problem, fast and furious is not my normal style. I wanted to slow it down with her and savor each sweet minute, but I couldn’t calm myself down and summon any sort of control. She’s the one girl I couldn’t get my hands on quick enough, and she deserves better than that.
I brush the back of my fingers along her jaw, a soft caress. “Yeah, about that. I—”
She goes up on her tiptoes, and presses her lips to mine. “I should probably tell you. A gentleman is nice, but totally overrated.”
Her breasts press into my chest, and she moves her hips, massaging my growing cock. “Are you saying you like it rough, Londyn?”
“I’m saying I never had it rough before.”
“Yeah? That was your first experience?” A pink hue crawls up her neck, flushes her cheek. “What?” I ask.
“I haven’t been with very many men,” she begins, dark lashes fluttering over big blue eyes. Her innocence and her insecurities twist me up inside. “I’m not that experienced, Cason. What sexual encounters I’ve had, have left me unsatisfied. But it’s partly my fault. It’s not easy for me to open up, and growing up under scrutiny all the time, makes me feel like I’m always being judged. I shut down when that happens.”
Okay, I hadn’t expected her to say that, and while on one hand I’m happy that she’s not been with many men, on the other I want to punch them in the face for not making it good for her.
“There’s nothing wrong with you. You have to know that.”
Her warm palm goes to my face, and she says, “I don’t want to talk about those other guys. I want to talk about you, and how this morning you gave me the best sex I’ve ever had. I’ve never experienced anything like it.” A wobbly laugh churns in her throat, and she turns her head, breaking eye contact, like she’s a bit embarrassed.
“Hey,” I say and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, bringing her gaze back to me. “Don’t shut down on me. I’m not here to judge you, Londyn, and for what it’s worth, this morning you rocked my world, too.”
A wide smile splits her lips, and her eyes glisten. “I’m not sure what it is about you.” She crinkles her nose. “Then again. Maybe I am. Maybe I can be myself with you and open up in a way I never could with anyone else. We used to be so close.”
“Yeah, we were. I told you things about myself that I’ve never told anyone else.”
“Same, and for the next two weeks I want that.”
She blinks rapidly, rays of hope moving into my eyes, and as my heart pounds a little harder I find myself saying, “Okay.” Jesus, if I know what’s good for me, I’ll get out now, stop pretending nothing happened between us.
“You’re the only man who’s ever made me feel safe, and when I’m safe, I have an easier time expressing myself. I’m not so afraid to put myself out there.”
I do that for her? I stand there blinking, her admission filling me with pride and seriously flooring me.
“I want you to be who you are. You’re safe with me, Londyn.” It’s not a lie. I’d never let anything bad happen to her.
“I know.”
“I want you to express yourself, no embarrassment, no judgment.”
“Okay,” she says, a hint of mischief curling up her lips. “I loved the way you seemed to lose control. No man has ever looked at me with worship in his eyes before.”
“You’re a woman who should be worshipped, and those guys were assholes for not figuring out what you needed.”
Her palm lands on my chest, covering my rapid heartbeat. “I had no idea how much I liked being ravaged, until you ravaged me. I want that again, Cason.” Empowered, she lifts her chin and asks, “So what are you going to do about that?”
I grip the lapels of my coat and back her up until she’s pressed against the door. Her breathing changes and heat floods her cheeks. My mouth finds hers in a deep bruising kiss and her resulting moan wraps around my dick and tugs.
I tear at the coat, practically rip it from her body as I devour her mouth, unable to taste deep enough. Jesus, this woman is everything...and I swear she’s going to be the death of me.
“I’m going to fuck you, babe. So goddamn hard, you’re going to still feel me inside you when you leave here.”
Her entire body quakes as she tugs at my shirt. “I want that, too. I want to feel you when I’m gone.”
Gone.
Shit, I can’t think about that right now. Not when her heat is beckoning my fingers and mouth. I slide a hand between her legs, lightly brush her sex. I can ravage her, give her what she wants, but first and foremost her comfort is of the utmost importance.
“You’re not too sore?”
Her smile is warm. “Not for you.” She puts her hand on my cheek. “Never for you.”
“I might ruin this hot, tight pussy,” I say. Honestly my mind is a little blown. I shouldn’t be surprised by her lack of innocence. She wasn’t a coed who slept around, but liking it rough and dirty, yet afraid to give in to her desire? I didn’t see that coming. My cock thickens a little more. Jesus, I’m having a hell of a good time discovering all the sides to her and I have to admit, I’m feeling a measure of pride that I’m the first guy to give her what she needs. “I might actually ruin this sweet mouth of yours, too,” I say and slide my thumb in.
She sucks on it, and need grips me hard. Her fingers slide over my shoulders, dip under my shirt and score my skin. “What are you waiting for, Cason?”
I groan, pull my finger from her mouth and work the tight button on her hip-hugging jeans. I need her naked. Now.
I grip the belt straps, tug until her jeans hover around her round hips, but she pushes me off her body. For a moment I go still. Has she changed her mind? I’m about to ask, but my words stick, then morph into a moan when she turns, and puts her hands on the door, high up, near the rack where my scarves are hung. She grips the fabric, runs it around her fingers, letting me know in no uncertain terms what she wants. My glance rakes over her quivering body, and every dirty scenario that has ever played out in my mind when it came to her crashes over me, like a hot Caribbean wave.
“I’m going to make you mine.”
I reach above her head and tie the scarves around her hands, securing them to the rack. The binds are tight enough to hold her in place, but loose enough that she can get out of them if she has a change of heart. Although, judging by the way her breath is coming in jagged little bursts, like she’d just sprinted through a marathon, I don’t see that happening anytime soon. Oh, yeah, sweet Londyn Harding likes this hot little setup, and she wants me to play.
Play I will.
I reach around her, and run my fingers over the ridiculously small buttons on her blouse. I breathe against her ear, and her entire body quakes in response. I grin, loving the reaction my closeness pulls from her. I present calm, but I’m not as together as I’m letting on. No, I’m two seconds from losing myself in her, and never finding my way out again.
“These buttons, they’re kind of pissing me off,” I growl.
“What did my buttons ever do to you?”
“They’re too small for my fingers. If I were designing women’s clothes, I’d buy up every small button and burn them.”
She chuckles. “I never would have worn this shirt if I’d known it was going to prevent you from touching me.”
“Your hands are tied, so you leave me no choice.” I grip the edges of her blouse, and with one quick yank tear it wide-open. The silly little buttons clatter to the floor and her resulting yelp wraps around my balls and gives a delicious squeeze. Fuck yeah. “Much better,” I say and continue to rip the shirt until it’s gone from her body. “I’ll replace that,” I say and run my fingers over her delicate shoulders.
“No need. I have plenty.” Her breathing grows harsh, and fingers coil around my scarves, like she’s doing her best to keep herself upright.
“You good, Londyn?”
“Never better.”
I press my mouth to her shoulder, and slowly tug down her bra straps. “This is much easier to remove.” I unhook the latch and free her breasts.
