Clearly interested, Nigel leaned onto the table and nodded for me to continue.
“In three words I can sum up what draws the interest of most people I tell about the dig.”
“What are they?”
“Joshua and King Solomon.”
Nigel sat back and surveyed me through narrowed lids. “As in the Biblical Joshua and King Solomon?”
“One and the same.” Easily losing myself in the discussion, I took a sip of wine and went on. “Get this. There are actual recorded records of Hazor when it was a Canaanite city. Archeologists have unearthed texts in Mari, Syria, and Akhenaten’s Tel el-Amarna.”
“Go on.”
“Are you sure you want to hear all this? Usually people tell me to shut when I start rambling on about Hazor.”
He took my hands in his and squeezed. “I’m interested. Go on.”
“Okay. Well, the Canaanite city was destroyed around the thirteenth century…B.C. of course. This destruction would have happened around the same time of the Israelite invasions into Canaan. The same invasions that happen in the Book of Joshua. Hazor is named in Joshua and the execution of its king is described in chapter ten or eleven. I can’t remember which.”
“Where does Solomon fit into all of this?”
“A tenth century, six-chambered gate and casemate wall were found in the city. Scholars pretty much agree that King Solomon reigned in the tenth century. Solomon had to have been in power when these buildings went up.”
Nigel didn’t say anything for a while and I began to fear that I’d said too much. So what if he had said he’d studied to be an anthropologist, that didn’t mean he really gave a crap about some dig I went on. He was trying to be nice, and as usual, I’d gone and opened up my mouth and made a complete fool of myself.
“I’m sorry Nigel,” I began to say.
His next words nearly caused me to go into cardiac arrest.
“Marry me Stella.”
I met his gaze and waited for him to give me his signature flash of teeth. When he didn’t, I pasted a bright smile to my face and laughed. “Don’t play with me like that, Nigel. I might say yes.”
“I’m not playing.”
I continued to survey him for any sign of amusement. His lips neither twitched with suppressed mirth, nor did he look away from me. He kept his eyes level and fixed on my face. “You’re amazing, Stella. You’re intelligent, beautiful; fun…you’re the most extraordinary person I’ve met in a long time. I could give you everything you ever wanted…and more.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I fell in love with you the moment I saw you.”
I gaped. “I have a boyfriend. I have two boyfriends. You can’t be serious.”
He waved this off as unimportant. “Dump them. I’ve lost count of the women whose company I keep. Kept,” he corrected.
“You’re mad!”
“I’m in love.”
“No you’re not.”
“Yes I am.”
“No, you’re not.”
Still clasping my hands, he gave them a squeeze. “You may not be in love with me right now, but you will be. I’m absolutely irresistible. Think about it. You could sell your business to Ann and live the kind of life you’ve always dreamed of.”
I slid free of him and sat back, feeling as though I’d stepped into the Twilight Zone. “What do you know of my dreams? You don’t know me.”
“Did you hear yourself telling me about Hazor? You’d love to devote your life to history. The only reason you don’t is because you can’t afford to. Marry me and you’ll never have to work again. I have more money than I know what to do with.”
“No.”
“You can go on any dig you want. You can go back to school and get your Doctorate. Think about it, Stella. The world will be open to you in ways you never imagined.”
Nigel had lost his mind. He’d come to the Outer Banks and gone completely crazy. Worse still, some of his madness had to be rubbing off on me because I was beginning to consider his offer.
No, I wasn’t in love with Nigel, but I thought over time I could be. He’d said I was extraordinary, but in truth he was the extraordinary one. He was a self-made millionaire at thirty-five. And I didn’t have to think about how great it would be to wake up to that body on the bed beside me every morning. Further, the world he offered was more alluring than he could have known. The opportunity to go out on digs year round, to have the time to go back to school. Dr. Stella Rice.
I groaned inwardly knowing that no matter how appealing Nigel’s offer was, I’d never accept it. When I married, it would be for love. “I can’t, Nigel.”
“I could give you everything, Stella.”
“I got a newsflash for you. Not every woman wants to be rescued by a knight in shining armor. We’ve known each other for less than a week. I’m leaving in the morning. I just can’t. Let’s date for a while, see how things go.”
For a moment he remained in his seat, staring out at the ocean. He was motionless, save a finger he rapt repeatedly against the table. When he finally moved, it was with a feline grace that set my hormones off balance. He focused those light eyes on me and eased out of his seat. The sound of rayon against leather filled the air around us as he got to his feet and came toward me.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
He lowered himself, sidesaddle, into my lap. “I don’t want to date you, Stella. How much plainer can I be?”
His scent enveloped me and the warmth of his body oozed into my skin. Though I’d had to grit my teeth to keep from crying out at the sudden weight of his body, I quickly found more pros than cons to that position. The feel of his tight ass-resting snug against my most sensitive body part sent an erotic thrill through me. It was like tiny pinpricks of sensation piercing my body in a million different places at once.
He enclosed me in his arms and pressed his lips to my ear. His skin felt soft and moist. His breath was so hot it scorched. My entire body came alive under his touch. The tiny peach fuzz hairs in my ear prickled and goose flesh rose along my skin even as my stomach tingled with anticipation. When he pressed his tongue to my ear and licked the outer edge I sighed.
“I never wanted to date you,” he whispered then nipped the tender flesh with his teeth. “Dating isn’t enough, Stella.” So slow I thought I’d scream, he ran his tongue along my jaw line. Then he pressed his lips against my throat and exhaled against my skin. “I want to own you, Stella. Anything less isn’t good enough.”
He eased off of me enough to reposition himself so he was sitting astride my hips and facing me. His hair glimmered under the light of the moon. It seemed as golden as a summer sun. His lush lips were swollen and pink, and looked delicious enough to eat.
I stared up into his blue eyes and thought I could lose myself in them. When I opened my mouth to speak, he set his finger over my lips.
“Hush,” he said. “Listen.”
I wasn’t sure what I was listening to, I wasn’t sure I could even think anymore for that matter. But any thought of thinking quickly went out the window when he began undoing his shirt. His fingers moved efficiently over the buttons. Bit by bit his sun-bronzed chest came into view. He was all hard muscle and smooth skin.
He let his shirt fall open then set his arms at either side of me.
His eyes were poised on my face and I didn’t need to read his mind to know what he saw there. In a word, need. Logically I knew this man had lost his mind, but emotionally I couldn’t generate anything but desire for him. He was beautiful. Perfect. Magnificent.
“Listen,” he said again. This time, though, he pressed his bared chest to my face and enclosed me in an embrace. “Do you hear that?”
“What?”
He tilted my head to the left with a finger then pressed his chest against my ear. All sound was abruptly cut off save the thud of his heart. His arms, heavy with muscle, held me firm, but his embrace was gentle.
“My heart. Hear how fast it�
��s beating?”
I did. I could even feel the thump of it against my cheek.
“That’s how much I want you, Stella. That is how much I need you. And this.” Slowly, he ground his hips into me so I could feel the mass of hard flesh between his legs against my groin. “This is how much I want and need you.”
I licked my lips, knowing full well I was on the edge of control and had to tread carefully. “I don’t even know you—”
He captured my mouth and kissed me with a hunger that set my hormones on fire. I quickened at the contact and opened my mouth to receive his tongue, sucking it even as he forced himself within. Great gulping sighs escaped my lips as he continued to grind his hips into me, setting an inferno blazing within me that only his touch could quench.
“Damn Nigel, what are you doing to me?”
I found myself clinging to the lapels of his shirt, as he pulled free of me.
“You belong with me, Stella,” he said in a low voice. “You can feel it, the rightness of it, can’t you? You can feel the power that emanates from us when we’re together. The air around us sizzles. You were made for me, Stella, and I was made for you.”
“Nigel…” But I didn’t know what to say. I could barely think a coherent thought.
Entwining his fingers with mine, he rose from the table. “Come with me, Stella.”
I followed him across the deck and down the stairs, knowing well where we were going.
My heart stuttered in my chest as we made our way through the aft deck and toward the next set of stairs that led to the lower level. I didn’t know if I was mentally ready to take this relationship to the next level, especially now that he’d proposed to me. Unfortunately logical thought was something my body wasn’t concerned with. Though my mind demanded I retreat, my legs took me eagerly forward, down the steps, through the darkened corridor, and toward a door at the end of the hall.
With one twist of the knob, Nigel pushed the door wide and entered.
Dear God, what was I doing?
Chapter Nine
He used his free hand to flip a switch. Immediately, two lamps positioned at either side of a bed began to glow with dim light.
The room wasn’t as large as I expected, but it was cozier than I’d anticipated. Across from us, an entire wall had been fashioned of glass. Beyond the open drapes the ocean swayed, rocking the yacht lazily. The movement of the boat on the water was slight. So minimal in fact, I hadn’t noticed until I’d looked out the window.
A king-sized bed dominated the space. The cream and tan bedding added to the warm ambience. Mahogany bedside tables sat at either end of the bed, adding to the overall charm. Beyond overstuffed pillows and built into a recessed shelf at the head of his bed; a large mirror reflected the room. Immediately I felt comfortable and at ease. I was glad to see Nigel’s private space wasn’t as formal as the rooms I’d seen topside.
Nigel crossed the room in a few steps, stopping only when he’d reached the bed. He didn’t face me, but our eyes met in the mirror. We stared at each other for long moments.
“I want to make love with you, Stella,” he told my reflection. “Will you let me?”
Unable to pull my eyes away from him, I nodded.
Only then did he turn.
Eyes intent on me, he let his suit jacket glide down his arms. I listened mutely to the murmur of shifting material as he slid free of it then tossed it on the loveseat behind me. With a soft moan, he ran his tongue over his lower lip and loosened his tie. When it hung limp around his neck he pulled it over his head and cast it aside with his jacket.
I watched this quietly, my heart beginning to ache as my desire for this man reached fever pitch. With his every move, sensual hunger was rising in me. My breasts were hot with my need to be touched, and the hardening peaks of my nipples swelled in time with my yearning. The damp flesh between my thighs clenched eagerly as Nigel removed layers of clothing.
When his shirt and shoes had joined the pile on the sofa, he let his arms fall to his sides.
“Your pants.” I motioned toward the offending object with a trembling hand.
“Take them off.”
“Me?” I squeaked.
“Yeah, you.” To illustrate the fact that he wouldn’t, he crossed his hands behind his back and arched a brow. “If you want me, come and get me.”
“This isn’t about that stupid bet, is it?”
A wide smile split his face. “No. This is about me wanting to know, to see how much you want me.”
Swallowing a sigh, I braced myself for the feel of the thick rayon separating me from what I wanted most I waited a moment so I could take him in, from the rigid lines of his =face to the hard plains of his chest. His nipples were pink as his lips, and puckered to hard pebbles. The turgid peaks were deliciously inviting. They looked so hard that I wondered how they would feel against my tongue, how they would taste.
I took a step forward; exhaling when I realized my mouth was on a line with the stiff nubs. He was so tall, all I had to do was tilt my head toward the floor and I could feast.
And I did. I closed my mouth over one bud, running my tongue over the hardened flesh before I could talk myself out of it.
Nigel’s breath came out of him in a hiss. The hands he’d clasped behind his back a moment ago came up and around me. With one hand cupped to the back of my head and the other set on my lower back, Nigel held me in place.
Even as I let the intoxicating flavor of Nigel flow into me, I found the button of his pants and pulled.
“Yes,” he murmured over my head, rocking his hips against me in a slow, erotically charged rhythm.
With my growing need to have Nigel atop me, filling me to the core, the movements of my hands became hurried and frantic. As I moved to his other nipple and sucked the turgid bud into my mouth so I could lick it and suck it at leisure, I tugged at his zipper until I had it down and could shove the flaps of his pants wide.
We broke apart long enough for him to free himself of his pants and boxers. When he stood before me, naked as the day he was born, my body cried out for him. The thick length of his cock bobbed into view and I bit my lip so hard I drew blood. Blonde hair—the same color as his eyebrows—lay in loose curls at the base of what had to be the most perfect penis I’d ever seen. Already I could feel trickles of cream seeping out of me.
Unable to wait for him to take the lead, I crawled onto the bed then lay on my back. “I can’t wait,” I panted. “I’m about to explode.”
I wasn’t surprised when he turned to face me, grinning. Neither did I care. Desperate for him to mount me, I sat up and wrestled my panties down my legs. Once I was free of them I let them fall, forgotten, off the side of the bed.
Nigel didn’t move. He stood at the foot of the bed, watching me.
“Please Nigel. You’re killing me.”
His grin broadened to a smile. “Will you marry me?”
I let my head fall back onto the pile of pillows. “I’ll do whatever the hell you want me to do, just come here.”
“Don’t you want to take off your dress?”
“No. Just…please…come here.”
When the bed dipped under his weight I nearly swooned with relief.
With slow precision, purposely drawing out the seconds, he crawled up my length. His skin brushed my toes, then my calves, then all at once he settled himself between my splayed thighs. The weight of his body felt so good I could have cried.
“You’re so hot for this,” he noted, sounding more than a little surprised. “You’re soaking.”
“I know. Hurry.”
A low, wavering sigh seeped from my lips when I felt the head of his cock brush my entrance. I quivered at the contact.
Resting the weight of his body on his elbows, Nigel levered himself up far enough so he could stare down at me. A slight smile drew his mouth to one side. “I think I like you like this.” He moved his erection experimentally over my hungry flesh again, producing a resultant shudder much like the
first. “Does that feel good?” He did it again.
I was beyond speech. In a move of pure desperation, I wrapped my legs around his waist and tried to force the issue. Easily, though, he moved back and out of range.
For a moment he watched my struggle, then mercifully lowered himself until he was pressing my writhing hips into the mattress beneath him. Without saying another word, he captured my mouth.
I gave myself over to the kiss, losing myself in the stimulating taste of his lips and the texture of his tongue as it swirled within my depths, feasting on me as eagerly as I feasted on him.
I gripped his shoulders and rocked against him. My hands glided down his spine, my fingers slipping over his sweat-dampened flesh until I was able to close my palms over his taut buttocks and squeeze.
Nigel’s kiss was lighting a fire in me I doubted would soon be put out. The mere touch of his lips, the simple pleasure of kissing him had my stomach trembling with need. Pressure was building between my legs, an exquisite tightening in my loins that only Nigel could release.
Then, when I thought I was at the very edge of control, Nigel eased his cockhead to my entrance and pushed inside with a series of small thrusts until he filled me to my core.
“Oh, yes!” I squeezed his ass, urging him on.
Expression deadly serious, Nigel froze. “You’re tight,” he said with surprise. He met my rapturous gaze and grimaced. “Don’t move, Stella. I wasn’t prepared for…” he finished on a gasp.
I’d clenched his cock again.
“Bloody fucking hell,” he swore.
I couldn’t help but smile when his eyes rolled into the back of his head. He shuddered violently, gritted his teeth, and released a few heavy breaths as a hot stream of semen shot into me.
When he had himself under control again, he opened his eyes. They were glazed over with lust, still, I knew by the firm set of his jaw that he’d make me pay for what I’d done.
“It’s like that, is it?” he said in a breathy voice.
“I’m sorry.”
Eyes steady on my face, he withdrew his throbbing cock, sending correlating spasms of pleasure along my inner walls. “I’m going to ride you till you beg me for mercy.” Saying this, he plunged inside of me.
THE CHRONICLES OF STELLA RICE: APRIL Page 9
