by Helen Karol
“Alright, so no more foolishness about staying in one.”
Opening the car door, he helped her into the vehicle. Claire attempted to offer a dignified response, but could only summon up a petulant harrumphing sound mixed with a treacherous moan as she sunk into the leather of the car seat. She felt her pelvis clench and a warm glow pulse through her as contact with the supple seat caused the heat of his smacks to flow insidiously across her tender flesh.
As Julian entered on his side of the car, she rallied enough to throw him a quelling look. Tossing her head in a very feminine gesture, she told him saucily. “I’ll thank you to treat me with a little more respect. You might've known me since I was practically a teenager, but that doesn’t mean you can treat me like a kid. I am now a sophisticated, mature woman, in case you hadn't noticed."
Julian laughed richly. Why had she never noticed the sensual sound of his laughter before? He looked across at her deliberately, a smile flitting across his lips, an unmistakable inflection in his voice. "Oh, I noticed."
They were both silent during the drive to Julian’s beach house and now, Claire sat curled up in the corner of the large leather sofa that faced the ocean in Julian's living room. Still feeling a bit surreal over the unexpected turn of events, she watched him as he lit a fire in the fireplace that dominated the north wall. He’d taken off his jacket and tie and rolled up his sleeves as he went about the task. Noticing the muscled strength of his forearms and the dark hairs that grew on them, she felt a shiver run through her. There was something incredibly erotic about a man's forearms when they were good to look at. His definitely were. Wriggling on the part of her anatomy he’d so recently used the strength of his forearms to warm, she was surprised at how quickly the heat of the spanking had faded. Only a slight glow remained from the initial fiery throb.
As Julian stood up, his back to her still, she admired the breadth of his shoulders before she let her gaze stray lower. Hmm, how could she never have noticed what a great ass he had? Smiling, she took a sip from the brandy snifter he’d settled her with before he began. She hadn't wasted much time stepping out in the direction of those new horizons, had she?
“What're you smiling about?"
"Oh, just admiring the view," she told him, nodding out to the ocean with a secret smile.
She kept her eyes on the ocean while he helped himself to a brandy. Once he was settled across from her, a comfortable silence passed between them. Claire took her eyes from the scene and settled them on the man across from her, experiencing a disquieting envy of the glass he held to his lips. Pulling her feet from under her, she sat up. This was getting out of hand. She almost jumped when he spoke.
"Well, are you going to tell me?"
She stared at him with wide eyes. Was he really asking her to admit her newfound feelings? She felt foolish when he elaborated.
"Why you're running away from New York."
Settling back in the corner of the couch, she took a sip of her brandy, allowing the warmth of the amber liquid to slip down her throat, fortifying her. His question had jolted her from the building erotic mood back to the pathetic reality of her actual love life. "I'm not running away. I simply took the opportunity of a transfer back home.”
***
Julian cupped his brandy glass in both hands and settled his long frame deeper into the armchair across from Claire. Earlier, he’d switched on the powerful patio searchlight. The only unnatural light in the scene, it revealed the stretch of sand and the gently lapping waves. Further out, the more turbulent waters were apparent due to the full moon suspended eerily in the night sky. Oblivious to the hauntingly lovely view visible through the wall of glass behind him, he didn’t turn to look. That view was available to him often. It had been too long since he’d been able to feast his eyes on the sight of her illuminated by moonbeams and firelight.
If only he’d indulged in enjoying that sight a little longer before spoiling the mood by raising an obviously fraught subject. He cursed his desire to provide her with the confidant she clearly needed, swallowing as disappointment flooded him. The eroticism that had been growing between them all evening had entirely evaporated at his question.
He took a sip from his brandy, allowing her some space before responding. "You don't have to tell me. I just thought you might like to confide in me. You have in the past."
Claire sighed. “I would. It's just not a subject I find easy to broach."
He probed no further, waiting for her to speak in her own time.
Hesitantly, she began to tell him, her words picking up momentum as her story unfolded. “We were assigned to cover a fashion show together, me as the writer, him as the photographer. The mutual attraction was instant and we began seeing one another. Things were…I don’t know…amazing at first. It was so…intense. I never knew I could feel that way. I thought maybe…well you know. Except it started to feel so fast…too fast. Too much, too soon. Especially when the connection became more than personal. A few weeks ago, he told me some people he knew were starting up a new magazine and they wanted us to join them.” She paused and then added. "He also thought it was about time I moved in with him."
Julian subdued a protective emotion, managing to limit his comments to a dry observation. "How gallant of him."
Claire smiled at him indulgently. "Not everyone gets married in less than a month."
Taking another sip from his drink, he didn't reply. How'd she known that? He couldn't remember ever telling her. He shrugged mentally. No doubt it was public knowledge.
Continuing, Claire’s words tumbled out in a rush. "I didn't feel I could commit myself to either suggestion, but I didn't want to lose him, so I agreed to think it over for a while. He started pressuring me constantly for a decision. His persistence started to ruin everything. Our relationship suffered, my work suffered. I'm sure that's why John suggested I take this position. It's an ideal chance really. The job can last as long I like, but I can transfer back to New York if I want.”
She paused and took a sip from her glass before continuing. “I told Richard I thought it'd give us both some badly needed space. Time to think. He didn't agree. Blew his top actually. We had a bitter argument and he told me if I took the job we could forget the whole thing. He never wanted to see me again. I couldn't let him emotionally blackmail me, so I took the job and here I am."
Having unburdened herself, she sat back, dangerously close to tears.
"And you're not sure you made the right decision."
It was a statement not a question. Her face showed gratitude at his easy understanding. Slowly, she nodded.
"Do you love him?"
Claire looked thoughtful. Leaning forward, her elbow bent on the arm of the sofa, her chin cupped in her hand, she spoke softly. "I'm not sure how I feel about him. All I know is my reaction to him borders on violent. He affects me the way no other man has. He has a strange power over me. Part of me wants him and the other part can't escape fast enough. He makes me feel excited and frightened at the same time."
Julian spoke to her in a still, quiet tone calculated to bring her back from the place to where she was fast disappearing. Years of practice asserted themselves as the shield he’d foolishly lowered sprang back into force. Considering the tumult of emotion her confidences had betrayed in him, he was surprised to hear the calmness in his own voice. "Sounds like you've got a bad case of it."
She looked at him quickly. "Love?"
"Lust."
Bringing her hand down, she straightened, staring at him open-mouthed.
"You're cruel."
He put his glass down. Standing, he gave her a wry smile. He appeared to display only a friendly interest, but he found he had to walk away in order to combat the swift, seething jealousy flowing hotly through him at the image of Claire so passionately involved with another man. He managed to keep his voice cool. "No, just blunt."
"Lust can turn into love, can't it?"
He half-turned from the glass wall where he st
ood, his hands in his pockets. He felt more in command after placing a distance between them. He looked back at her, shrugging in a seemingly unaffected manner. "I don't know. I'm afraid that's beyond my experience."
"Are you saying you've never experienced lust?" Her expression clearly declared if she could feel it she saw no reason why anyone else should be immune.
He laughed, her petulant indignation releasing some of his tension. He turned back to the glass before answering her. "No. I'm just saying it's never turned into love."
She put her own glass down and joined him. Neither spoke for a few minutes. He could tell she found it comforting to be standing close beside him in the silence. Finally, she asked. "Julian, do you think I made the right decision?"
He turned her to face him, his answer guarded. "I can’t advise you. As you made a point of telling me earlier, you're a mature woman. You have to make your own decisions."
"I'm not asking for your advice just your opinion."
He was disinclined to answer at first, but then he told her. "If someone really cares about you they don't make ultimatums. I think you made the right choice when you walked away."
She breathed a sigh of relief and laid her cheek on his chest, not noticing his indrawn breath. "I'm glad I'm back here, I always feel safe with you."
Holding her finally so close against him, he couldn’t stop his fingers as they encircled the back of her neck. His other hand traced the curve of her body from under her arm to the flush of her hip. She murmured softly, his feather light touch seeming to arouse a poignant emotion in her as she relaxed against him. The sensation of his breath warm against her hair caused an erotic sensation to ripple through him as his voice shifted the strands ever so slightly.
When he spoke the timbre in his voice was deep, laced with longing. "Has it ever occurred to you that your trust might be misplaced?" He held her away from him allowing the years of pent-up desire in his gaze to travel ardently over her body. "You're not nineteen anymore. You've grown into a very lovely and desirable woman."
He watched as her arms moved unbidden by her mind to encircle his neck, her head tilted, lips softly parted. Julian found he could not resist her invitation. Her lips were soft and warm against his own. He gathered her pliant body close, amazed at how easily she melted against him. He trailed his lips across her cheek, slowly, before bending to the pulse at her throat and the identity of her perfume became known to him. Gardenias.
He held her closer as she drifted languorously, the touch of her lips against his skin like slow fire creeping through his veins. Her arms entwined themselves closer around him and her fingers crept up into the thickness of his hair. She moved against him as if loving the feel of his hard, muscled length. It felt so good, so right, to hold her in his arms like this. At that moment, he knew without a doubt that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
He lifted his head, his eyes glazed, his breathing ragged. She smiled, her face revealing pleasure that she could affect him this way. Desire for him was plain in her eyes. Her voice was soft, full of the knowledge of womanhood. “I wasn't nineteen before I went to New York either, Julian."
He still held her close in his arms, the fingers of one hand playing idly along her back, debating on whether he should remove the pins from her hair now or wait to see it spill across his pillow as he’d imagined so often in the past three years. Lost in those imaginings, her words brought him rudely back to reality and to the knowledge that he’d totally blown his cover.
His. Carefully. Guarded. Cover.
Chapter Four
Claire held her breath as Julian sighed and ran his hands through his hair, avoiding her eyes. "No, you weren't."
"Why didn't you let me know?"
He expelled a long breath. "Because I wasn't interested in just an affair and you weren't ready for anything else. Neither was I," he added almost as an afterthought.
Claire moved closer to him, provocatively. "And now?"
"Now? I think you should go to bed. Alone."
She made a small moue of protest and reaching up kissed him. He didn't really mean it. He was just giving her the chance to back out if she wanted. But he did mean it. Taking her head in his hands, he pulled her lips gently from his own.
"You're hurt right now. Vulnerable. Going to bed with me might seem like a good idea, but it's not going to help."
She felt him slipping away from her, but she made one last effort. “Don't you want me?"
His voice was exasperated. "Of course, I want you! Can't you tell?"
They were still locked together. Yes, she could tell.
"Now go to bed before I take you down and throw you in the ocean to cool you off."
The marked difference in the nature of his threat from the eroticism of the smacks he’d inflicted on her backside earlier confirmed his determination to put a definite stop to the sexual nature of their encounter. Regardless, Claire wasn’t ready to give up that easily. Rubbing naughtily against his aroused body, she baited him. “Maybe you should take a dip yourself."
Deliberately, he reached to the side and slid back the glass door that was cleverly concealed in the wall, although Claire knew of its existence. Reluctantly, she withdrew her arms from around his neck.
"Oh, alright!" She headed across the room to the steps that led to the hallway leading to the bedrooms. "You’re no fun!"
From his stance beside the glass wall, Julian chuckled, obviously amused at how easily her demeanor had changed from femme fatale to that of a petulant child. He made the obvious answer to her comment. "Stick around, one day I might let you find out how much fun I can be."
She stopped at the top of the few steps and posed against the corner, the provocative woman fully evident once more. "Promises, promises."
Giving him a view of her exquisite back, she sashayed down the hallway, her every movement an invitation, delaying her entrance into the second bedroom to taunt him enticingly. "I guess I really am safe with you." Then she disappeared backwards continuing her invitation.
Julian had one foot on the second step before he managed to halt.
Claire stood in the bedroom, heart beating erratically and hopefully. Her shoulders dropped resignedly when she heard the glass door slide and then close, even from this distance sensing his presence leave the house. Slowly she dressed for bed. He was probably right. She was still smarting from her experiences with Richard. As she drifted off to sleep, the erotic dreams that disturbed her rest for the past week returned. Only this night the eyes in her dreams were not blue, but green.
***
Julian stood on the raised deck off the kitchen, the rush of the surf accompanying his solitude. Perhaps he should've gone after her. He'd wanted to. He so wanted her in his bed. Earlier, he’d thought that was where they were undoubtedly headed. Remembering her hot looks over dinner and her startled yet coy response to the light spanking, he felt his cock harden tortuously. He’d wanted to spank her for years. She had a gorgeous ass and he yearned to see her pale skin blossom with the blush of erotic spankings. Not just erotic ones either. Once he recognized his feelings for her, the disciplinarian in him craved to correct her when necessary. She was pretty level headed, but at the times she acted impulsively. Not enough to be dangerous, but enough to push her luck. Her assumption that he would be there when she arrived a day early without consulting him, along with her smart remark about the hotel were points in evidence.
Still, he’d surprised the hell out of himself when he acted instinctively and spanked her. When he’d turned her around, it was only with the intention of putting her in the car, but the sexual tension along with her naughtiness - added to the appealing target of her gorgeous ass -were too much of a temptation to resist. Before he knew it, he’d surrendered to both his erotic and disciplinary needs. Well aware that he was the one who might have pushed his luck, he was both relieved and aroused when there was no mistaking the desire in the huskiness of her voice. Or the other tell-tale indicators that the spankin
g turned her on, while still serving its disciplinary purpose. Her response revealing yet another area where they shared compatibility.
His guardedness over the years had suppressed his disciplinary and dominant nature along with his other intense emotions, but tonight the sexual tension between them was too hot. He’d spent the last few weeks debating over what course of action he should take when she arrived. Holding back on his feelings was one thing when she was oblivious to them and to his sexuality. When she started getting all hot and bothered around him it was just too alluring to resist. Making love to her that night had started to seem inevitable.
Until she confessed her feelings about her ex-lover.
He knew then he had to back off. She was too vulnerable. She needed a friend not a lover. He wasn’t about to betray a trust that they’d built over six years for one night she might hold against him. He hadn’t kept hold of his emotions for all this time just to fail in a moment of weakness brought on, no doubt, by the fierce jealousy her confidences aroused. Nor was he willing to risk his feelings on what might simply be a casual night of ‘friends with benefits’ for her. He never could do casual sex, well. Probably because his first experience had been so moving.
Susanna hadn't seemed to mind his inexperience, only surprised that she was his first. The reasons for his inexperience were varied. He put himself through college, parking cars, waiting tables. He hadn't had much time for a social life. The girls he associated with didn't interest him a whole lot, although there were one or two he might have liked to see more of. But he had stayed almost singularly free from feminine attractions, until the day Susanna Ainsley walked into the famous designing house where he was particularly lucky to find a position.
Sitting sketching at one of the drafting tables, he’d looked up. She was discussing with the head designer and he saw his superior indicate in his direction. Susanna turned, giving him a better view of her. He didn't recognize her as the star of many films, only as the woman whom he knew, instinctively, would change his life. The two women covered the distance leisurely, but he had eyes only for Susanna, awed by the elegance and grace with which she moved. She was so tiny and yet she had an overpowering presence.
