The Dating Games Series Volume One

by T. K. Leigh

  “You will accept it.” He grabs my hands in his, bringing them to his lips. He places a gentle kiss on each. “Please. Let me do this for you. Let me give you something to remember our time together.”

  “I’ll never forget.” I lock eyes with him, silently pleading for him to acknowledge that our time together doesn’t have to end, that we don’t have to end. Why should it have to? Why should we walk away from each other because the summer’s over? Yes, that was the original plan — an end date so I could have my life back, so I could plan the rest of my life. Now I want nothing more than to deviate from the plan, to throw the planner out the window and see where this could take us.

  “It doesn’t have to end,” I say, one last attempt as I touch my mouth to his. He kisses me softly, gently, but in his tenderness is more emotion than any of Trevor’s kisses could even hope to contain.

  “It does, Guinevere. You deserve to be happy.” He pulls back, his fingers digging into the skin of my cheeks as he cups my face. “I can’t give that to you. I can’t give you more than this.”

  I’ve heard the same thing all weekend whenever my emotions got the better of me in his presence. I want to push it more, but not at the risk of marring our last few hours together. Instead, I simply nod, my lips finding his once more.

  The sound of the ocean waves fills the room from the open windows and we melt into each other, our kiss passionate, yet restrained, two words that describe Julian Gage perfectly. Despite how much I can tell he wants me, he’ll never admit it. To me, or himself.

  When he pulls away, a hint of moisture dots his own eyes. “We’ll always have Tiffany’s.”

  I pull my lips between my teeth as I struggle to swallow through the pain in my throat. “We’ll always have Tiffany’s.”

  The Farewell Gala is exactly as I expect it to be — filled with glamour, pretension, and bravado, yet another display of extreme wealth amongst the country’s upper crust. But tonight, as opposed to the previous few weeks, Julian doesn’t leave my side to talk business with someone interested in investing in his project. Whenever anyone approaches, he requests they reach out to his assistant to set up a time for a meeting or a phone conference when he returns to the city on Tuesday.

  The entire evening, he’s the perfect date, doting on me, making sure I have everything I need. More than once, part of me considers the possibility he’s acting like this because Ethan Ludlow seems to circle like a hawk, although to anyone else, he’s no more harmful than a parrot. Not to me, not after the story Sonia shared. And not to Julian, either. Despite that, I truly believe he stays with me because he doesn’t want to waste a second of the little time we have left.

  Before I know it, Julian and I are dancing to the final song of the night, then saying our goodbyes to the friends I’ve made over the summer, some of them women who turned their noses up at me during that first pool party. It’s amazing how much can change in just a few months.

  After a silent limo ride back to Julian’s house, we head through the dimly-lit living room and toward the staircase for the last time. His hand finds mine, our fingers interlocking as we walk those final steps toward my room. When we reach the door, he drops his hold, turning to face me. Our eyes meet, neither one of us saying a single word.

  I’ve been dreading this for weeks. It’s not just good night. This is goodbye. I’d insisted it be a term of our arrangement. As did Julian. A clean break.

  There’s nothing clean about this.

  I open my mouth, about to make one final plea for him to reconsider his position, that he can give me what he believes I deserve, but before I have a chance, his lips are on mine, stealing my words. His touch is so light, it’s akin to kissing a ghost. And tomorrow, that’s precisely what Julian Gage will be.

  Desperation takes over and I wrap my arms around him, curving my body into his as I deepen the kiss. He’s more than eager to match my intensity, pressing me against the wall. He kisses me as if he needs it to breathe, as if his lips were made just for mine, as if it’s the last time he’ll ever taste me. Because it is.

  He releases his hold on my face, his hands traveling down my frame, exploring, needing, wanting. When he brushes against my breast, I moan as he hardens, grinding against me. There’s so much longing, so much yearning, so much despair in this kiss, electrifying and satisfying me in a way I fear no one else will ever be able to do. Pulling him closer, I claw at his back, drawing everything out of him I possibly can. And I give him everything I have. My devotion. My respect. My love. I don’t need to tell him exactly how I feel. I show it in the way I worship him, hold him, cherish him.

  He moves his lips from mine, kissing a hot trail along my jawline, his hands teasing and torturing as he tries to imprint everything about me to his memory. I throw back my head, savoring in the warmth of his mouth on my skin as he nibbles on my neck. Our heavy breathing fills the hallway, my heart racing. Regardless of what tomorrow may bring, I know one thing… I need this man. His kisses. His touch. His soul.

  My fingers thread into his thick hair, tugging as his mouth journeys along my collarbone, his hand squeezing my breast. With my body pressed against the wall, I hook a leg around his waist, gently thrusting against him, urging him to continue, telling him I’m ready for whatever he’s willing to give.

  Eventually, his lips find mine again. At first, the kiss is impassioned and animalistic, but transitions into something…different. It’s full of pain and heartache as his tongue sweeps against mine, slow and measured.

  When he pulls back, he stares at me with a haunted look, as if on the verge of telling me something but can’t seem to form the words. It reminds me of the same tortured expression in his eyes my first night in this house.

  And just like that night, instead of saying a single word, he drops his hold on me and retreats with quick steps, disappearing into his room before I have a chance to whisper “goodbye”.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  I stare at the bright moon over the ocean as I lay awake in bed, sleep evading me. Since my first night here, I’ve slept well, the room designed to emphasize maximum comfort and relaxation. Tonight, nothing can get my brain to shut off, not when I wonder if I blew it with Julian. What if I’d made one final plea for him to reconsider? Would it have changed anything?

  I’ll never know.

  Feeling like the walls of this luxurious bedroom are suffocating me, I throw the covers off and my feet find the cool floor. I grab my silk kimono robe off the bed post and toss it over my tank top and sleep shorts, securing it around my waist. When I open the French doors and step onto the balcony, I inhale a long breath. The ocean breeze kisses my skin as I walk toward the ledge, leaning my arms on it. It’s so tranquil and serene, the sound of the waves soothing the fire and indecision within.

  As I smooth a few tendrils of hair behind my ear, I spy a figure standing at the end of the deck, staring at me. My breath hitches and my body shoots upright. His eyes, bloodshot and tired, find mine. It’s clear Julian hasn’t been able to sleep, either.

  He pushes himself away from the ledge, walking toward me with slow steps, a heat in his gaze. Hungry. Ravenous. Desperate. I straighten my spine, facing him, the tension between us mounting with every inch he erases. When he’s a breath away, he stops, his expression wrought with turmoil. It’s reminiscent of the indecision covering his face earlier tonight when he left me in the hallway. I worry the same thing will happen, that he’ll retreat instead of push forward. I can’t let that happen.

  Without saying a word, I reach for the sash of my robe, pulling at it, allowing the material to fall to my feet. A chill washes over me as the breeze wraps around my exposed skin, but the raw need covering Julian’s expression chases it away, empowering me. Finding the hem of my tank, I pull it over my head, leaving me in just my shorts.

  He sucks in a breath, his eyes breaking from mine as they rake over my chest. This is a bold and rash move, especially for me. I’ve never had to put it all on the line and risk rejectio
n. But this is the eleventh hour. There’s no tomorrow, not if I don’t take a leap.

  When he returns his gaze to mine, there’s something unfamiliar in it. It’s more than lust or desire. He’s not ready for me to walk out of his life any more than I am. But is that enough for him to ask me to stay? Or will the demons that still haunt him return, forcing him to withdraw back into himself?

  I don’t have a chance to think about it as he tugs my body to his, his mouth covering mine. His kiss is fevered, intense, wild. He seems to feed on me, needing me for sustenance. He breathes into me, causing a flutter in my chest. His hands shift to my ass and he squeezes, his raspy groan satisfying and electrifying. When he lifts and places me on the ledge, my legs wrap around his waist, his fingers digging into my skin. Desperate to feel every inch of him, I kiss him with more force, pulsing my hips against him. It feels like we’ve done this dance thousands of times before, our bodies in tune with each other so perfectly, so succinctly. A growl rips from his throat and his grip on me tightens. Before I can make sense of what’s happening, we’re moving, his lips never straying from mine as he carries me into my room.

  Once he deposits me onto the bed, he leans back, peering at me, a question in his unwavering gaze. Not a single word has been spoken between us since we left the gala. We don’t need them. After spending this amount of time together, we can read each other. We started out as strangers and became so much more than simply friends. I struggle to see a world without Julian in it.

  I don’t want to know a world without Julian in it.

  As I nod in silent confirmation that this is what I want, I grab the back of his head, capturing his lips once more. When our tongues meet, he moans, and I hook my legs around him. Moisture pools between my thighs as I squeeze them, desperate for Julian to extinguish the flames he sparked months ago.

  His mouth moves from mine, traveling along my jawline, nibbling on my earlobe before beginning the journey down the rest of my body. He takes his time to worship every inch of me, every curve, every dip, every valley, feasting on me as if I’m the finest delicacy known to man.

  When his tongue swirls around my nipple, I fist the sheet in my hands, lightheaded. But that’s nothing compared to the immense pleasure shooting through me when his teeth scrape against the sensitive flesh. My breathing increases, my pulse skyrocketing. Unmatched need fills me and I close my eyes, thrusting against him with increased urgency.

  “Patience,” he finally says. “I want this to last.”

  Taking several deep breaths, I try to slow my racing heart. But he’s already struck the match. He did so the night I first saw him at the bar in Manhattan. All summer, he’s fueled the flames to the point where I’m now ready to combust.

  He returns his mouth to my nipple, sucking before continuing his exploration of my body. Every nip, every scrape, every lick pushes me higher and higher. When he reaches my hips, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my shorts. A single brow arched, he peers up at me. I nod quickly, lifting my ass off the bed, desperate for him to hurry. With a sly grin, he leisurely lowers my shorts and underwear down my legs, tossing them to the floor, then settles between my thighs. Not a single self-conscious thought fills my mind as he seems to admire me from this vantage point, like a man who’s been starved for too long.

  He gradually breaks his gaze from mine and licks his lips. Every muscle in my body tightens as I hold my breath, waiting for the warmth of his mouth on my most sensitive spot. I’ve spent the summer in a perpetual state of heightened arousal. I fear all it will take is the slightest swipe of his tongue for me to shatter.

  I close my eyes, gripping the sheets even tighter, my core clenching in anticipation. Finally, he presses his tongue against me, and I moan, relaxing my body as I lose myself in this sensation of bliss I’ve only fantasized about. I do everything to prolong it, but it’s impossible. The past two months have been one big buildup to this moment. Now I regret what I’ve deprived myself of to keep my heart guarded, when Julian was able to burst through those walls without even a brush of his finger against my skin. In my heart, I know this was the path we were meant to take. We were meant to wait until this moment to experience this mind-blowing passion neither one of us believed possible…until now.

  My breath quickens as that familiar sensation of warmth and ecstasy fills me, the peak in sight. As if able to read me like a book, Julian increases his motion, filling me with a finger, then another, pushing me to the brink until I succumb to his touch, convulsing around him. But that doesn’t make him stop. He continues worshiping me until the last of my tremors cease.

  As he crawls up my body, a smirk on his lips, I grab his face, crushing my mouth against his. The taste of me on his tongue reignites the flame and I’m instantly desperate for more of him, for all of him.

  “I need you,” I plead in a throaty voice, frantic and delirious.

  He simply nods, pushing his shorts down his legs. As he’s about to toss them to the floor, he reaches into one of the pockets, retrieving a foil packet.

  “I was standing out there for over an hour before you walked onto the balcony,” he answers the question written on my face.

  “So this was your plan all along?” I ask coyly.

  He releases a short laugh. “I don’t think anything about this was ever planned, Guinevere.” I smile at how true his words ring. Nothing about this summer went according to my original plan. Maybe that’s the beauty of it. Because it was completely unexpected in the most satisfying of ways.

  He touches his lips back to mine, treating me to a soft kiss. “I never planned this.” His voice is contemplative.

  “Me, either.”

  “Now I can’t think of anything I want more.”

  “Me, either,” I repeat, running my fingers through his hair and down his back, relishing in the feel of his skin. He briefly closes his eyes, melting into my touch, arching his back before returning to a kneeling position. He secures the condom, then positions himself between my thighs. I swallow hard, this moment bigger than I ever thought it would be.

  Julian arches a brow, silently asking if this is what I truly want. I nod once more. He pushes into me, slowly, deeply, completely. My body fuses to the mattress as a sensation of absolute fulfillment washes over me. He leans down, cupping my face in his hands. His eyes sear mine as he moves so reverently inside me, taking me by surprise. I expected sex with Julian to be…different. Less emotional, less passionate, less…intimate. But this isn’t sex. Not with him. Not with us. It would never be just sex.

  I move with the steady rhythm he sets, relishing in every gentle thrust as he fills me to the brim, stretching me in a way no man ever has, then pulls back before continuing the same pattern. Neither one of us speaks a single word. There’s no need, no requirement to fill the vacant space with declarations of lust or desire. The silence is more striking, the unspoken words more poignant than insignificant ramblings just to make it seem as if we’re in the moment. Because we both know we’re there, that we’ve finally made it to this place we fought against for too long. No more.

  Julian rolls his hips into me, his motions measured and penetrating, delivering the utmost pleasure. As he nuzzles the crook of my neck, he finds my arms, pinning them on either side of my head.

  “I don’t know how much longer I can hold back.” His voice is strained.

  “It’s okay.” I wrap my legs tighter around his waist, circling him. “Let go,” I whisper, taking his earlobe between my teeth, nibbling on it. That’s all it takes for his muscles to tighten, his harsh grip on my wrists painful, yet satisfying. As his movements become increasingly more intense, I close my eyes, my core clenching as another wave of desire washes over me, much to my surprise.

  “Don’t fight it,” he murmurs into my ear, his own breathing labored. “Just let go.”

  He drives into me with even more ferocity and I scream out, shattering around him as explosions of light obscure my vision. His mouth clamps onto my neck as he finds his
own release, his body trembling and jerking. He thrusts one final time, then loosens his grip on my wrists, collapsing on top of me, spent and sated.

  My fingers drift up and down his back, savoring the grooves of his tattoo, toying with his hair as I try to calm my breathing. I stare at the ceiling, everything seeming different now.

  “Wow,” Julian exhales, struggling to catch his breath just like me.

  I laugh. “You can say that again.”

  He rolls off me and stands, removing the condom and tossing it into the trash bin next to the nightstand before crawling back into bed, draping the duvet over our bodies. His arms wrap around me and I blow out a contented sigh.

  But I still don’t know what this means for us, if this changes anything. I open my mouth, about to ask, when Julian places a soft kiss on my shoulder blade, tightening his hold on me.

  “Shh,” he soothes. “I’ll be right here when you wake up. I’m not going anywhere.”

  All the tension immediately leaves my body as I melt into his embrace, his promise filling me with hope.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The melody of the lapping ocean waves and Julian’s gentle breathing meet my ears as I slowly rouse from a restful sleep. The sun shines in the room as seagulls squawk, the sheer curtains blowing near the open French doors we never shut last night in the frenzy of finally experiencing each other. And experience each other we did. At least four times.

  Sensing I’m awake, Julian traces a delicate circle around my hipbone. I moan, relaxing into his touch as he stirs my desire once more. I flip over to face him and place gentle kisses on his chest. He’s so warm. So virile. So…perfect.

  He grabs my chin, tilting my head back and leaning down to kiss me. I tear away, covering my mouth with my hand.

  He cocks a brow. “What is it?”