“Shirt,” she repeated. “Now.”
He threw his head back and laughed, the hearty sound warming her belly. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he brought his gaze back down to her and raised his hands to the buttons at his chest. “You drive a hard bargain.”
Stella: 1, Evan: 0.
“Your compliance will be rewarded.” Enjoying the small win, she removed her ankle from his shoulder and lowered it so that her legs fell apart, her hand gravitating to where the scalloped lace skimmed her breasts. She cupped herself through the lace, and when Evan’s eyes looked as though they might launch straight from his head, she rolled her nipple between her thumb and forefinger.
She wasn’t the kind of woman who liked to put on a show…but something about Evan changed that. He pushed her boundaries, and though she claimed to be in charge the very fact that she hadn’t put a stop to it all was a major difference. She let him push her; she let him play with her, toy with her. And she let herself enjoy it.
“No.” He grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away. “That’s my job.”
Dressed in only a pair of boxer briefs and a silver ID bracelet, his muscled torso stole the spotlight. The only sound in the room was her ragged breath.
“I want to touch every inch of you.” His voice was rough. “I’ve been fantasizing about this ever since…”
“How long?” Her voice was but a mere whisper.
“Far longer than I should have. I told myself you were off-limits, untouchable.” He sighed, easing his boxers down over trim hips. He stood naked in front of her, his hard-on jutting toward her. He was magnificent. Hard as a marble statue, and every bit as sculpted. “But I’m not going to waste this.”
And just like that the teasing tone was gone. This was serious, she was going to offer her body to someone after being celibate for over a year. What if she’d forgotten what to do? Fear rose within her and her body tensed, ready to step back and put a stop to it.
As if sensing her retreat, Evan dropped to his knees in front of her and placed his hands gently on her thighs. “I’m going to take care of you.”
She could do nothing but nod mutely—her body frozen, her limbs leaden. As his hands eased slowly up her thighs, she exhaled, making the conscious decision to give in to the pleasure. Her lids fluttered shut and his lips were on her, dragging a guttural moan from deep within her chest. His tongue flickered softly over her folds, tracing their curves and parting them. Fire raced through her veins, exhilarating and awakening her. His lips found the swollen nub of her clit and when her hips bucked he concentrated there, teasing, taunting, tormenting.
It had been so long—so damn long—and she couldn’t hold on, couldn’t control herself. Release hit her from nowhere, splintering and fracturing her world, sending her dizzyingly into an abyss of pleasure. A cry echoed amongst the walls of the bedroom.
“Holy hell,” she panted, her chest heaving as the last waves of climax ebbed through her. The delicious satiation that pooled in her sex was unlike anything she’d felt before. “I don’t think I’ve ever…”
“Woken the dead?” He chuckled.
She cringed but he crawled onto her, his laughter vibrating against her skin as he pressed his face into her neck. The weight of him was just what she wanted, a physical security blanket.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said. “Having a beautiful woman scream my name and pull my hair is extremely flattering.”
“I pulled your hair?” She felt her cheeks burning. Dear God, how embarrassing…
“Yeah, you’ve got quite a grip with those delicate little hands of yours.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to pull away from him. If only the floor would open up and swallow her whole. He must think she was some sex-starved maniac.
“I don’t usually—”
“Stop.” He held himself above her, his hair flopping forward so it created a screen around his face. “We’re two adults enjoying some consensual, mutually-beneficial, highly pleasurable sex. That’s all.”
A lump lodged in her throat. Having him spell out their encounter in no uncertain terms should have settled her. She’d been the one to demand rules. Guidelines and the black-and-white terms of agreement usually gave her comfort. But something about those words left her with a little ache in her belly. What else did she want? She knew this wasn’t a long-term thing. Shortly she’d be leaving England, never to return, and he’d probably be cheering for her departure. It wasn’t the time for anything serious.
So why was she left feeling hollow?
“I know.” She nodded, pushing confusion aside. “I guess that means it’s my chance to return the effort.”
She reached down and he adjusted his hips so she could grasp him. The thickness of his shaft was heavy in her hand and she let out a long breath. Nerves fluttered inside her. Slowly, she moved her hand up and down, enjoying the way his eyes closed and his mouth opened in wordless pleasure.
“I don’t want to wait any longer,” he whispered. She nodded, meeting his lips for a deep, delving kiss.
He pushed up from the bed and rummaged around in the bedside table. Producing a condom, he sheathed himself and was back on her before she could miss him.
Biting down on her lip, Stella forced herself to relax. “It’s been a while…”
He nudged her thighs apart, and eased himself into position. “I said I’d take care of you, and I meant it.”
His voice was heavy, thick—though whether it was with arousal or emotion she couldn’t tell. His eyes seemed to darken as he entered her, his face opening up as restraint melted away.
There was a moment of exquisite tension as he pushed inside her and then she gave in, allowing him to take possession. Her head lolled back on the pillow and her arms wound around his neck, pulling him harder against her.
“Christ, Stella,” he moaned into her neck, his teeth nipping at her skin. His hand traversed her hip, skimming over the ticklish part of her stomach up to her breast. She writhed beneath him and he played to her, plucking at her nipple as he thrust slowly into her. “You’re so soft, so perfect.”
The intensity of his gaze washed over her.
“And you don’t even know it, do you?” He wrapped an arm around her waist and rolled so that she landed on top of him, upright. She felt exposed. On display. “You don’t understand how incredible you are.”
“Stop flattering me,” she said, swatting at him. He chuckled and grabbed her wrists, pulling her down so that her body was flush with his. She moved her hips in a circular motion that made him groan.
“Make me stop.” He released her wrists and she placed a hand over his mouth, increasing her rhythm.
He let out a cry against the palm of her hand, his tongue flicking against the sensitive flesh there. Grabbing her hips, he urged her on, bringing her to the peak. She could feel the swell of another orgasm inside her, her muscles clenching around his shaft as she rode him.
“Come with me,” she whispered, her words sending him over the edge.
He bucked beneath her, her name escaping his lips in a howl of relief. His large hands controlled her movement until she too tipped over the edge, falling with him. Climax shuddered through her, blinding her with light and release. She slumped over him and pressed against his shoulder. Her heart beat frantically, like the wings of a frightened bird as the last waves of bliss rolled through her.
“See? Nothing to be afraid of.” His voice was low, rough.
Strong arms wrapped around her, his lips against the crown of her head. She wanted to believe him, but something told her she had everything to be afraid of.
…
Sneaking away in the middle of the night wasn’t unusual for Evan, he didn’t like to stick around for morning-after awkwardness. But sometime around four a.m., as he disentangled himself from Stella’s lithe limbs, he felt strangely unnerved. Perhaps it was because there was no escaping her. She would be there in the morning and their bet would still be on the table.
Stella stirred in her sleep, her hand reaching for him but he dodged her grip. Padding out to the lounge room, he dropped onto the couch and turned the fireplace on. He craved the crackle and pop of a real fire, but the flat had this ultra-sleek, modern gas version. No matter how long he lived in the city and no matter how many conveniences he had, he always missed the simple, old-fashioned things he’d had growing up. Thick blankets and firewood, the scent of fresh-baked bread. Quiet mornings.
A siren wailed in the distance, as if to remind him of where he was. Evan directed his attention to the collection of photographs that lined his mantel. One in a shiny black frame held a picture of him and Nicholas on his twelfth birthday. He’d been awkward and gangly then, unsure of himself. Nicholas had shown him what it meant to be a man, how to take care of the estate, how to run a business, how to provide for himself.
How to be part of a family.
Grief was such a useless emotion. Unproductive. Nicholas would want him to suck it up and power on. But the loss of his mentor, and the closest thing he’d ever had to a father, weighed on him like he was carrying the estate itself on his shoulders.
“You’re up early.” Stella’s sleepy voice interrupted his thoughts, he turned and saw her dressed in his hoodie and nothing else. The fabric hung down to her thighs.
“So are you.”
“Couldn’t sleep.” She rubbed her eyes.
“Me either.” Part of him wanted to call her over to the couch for round two, but he was already in danger of getting too close. Of feeling something for her. He couldn’t risk it. Right now, he needed to forget how good she felt in his arms, how incredible she tasted on his tongue.
She walked over to the fireplace, warming herself before taking up the armchair to his right. Her hands only peeked out from the sleeves and she pulled a blanket over her legs.
“I like this place,” she said, looking around. “I remember this.”
She picked up a fat, glossy seashell that took pride of place on the small table next to her chair. He’d never known the significance of the seashell, though it never moved from the silver tray that also housed Nicholas’s preferred scotch and his worn copy of Robinson Crusoe. Nicholas had given the items to him on his last trip, when it was apparent he wouldn’t be coming back.
“I was sixteen and I bought it from one of the beach markets on the Gold Coast. I hoped that if he kept a little piece of Australia with him then he would always remember to come home.”
“He would never have forgotten to come home,” Evan said. It was true. In fact, there had been times in his youth when he’d envied the Jackson family in Australia, because Nicholas always went back to them. They were his real family and, when it came down to it, Evan wasn’t.
“I wasn’t taking any chances back then.” She smiled, turning the shell over in her hands. Her fingers traced the ribbed edges, gliding softly over each groove and slope.
God, how he wanted those hands back on him.
“And are you taking any chances now?” It was the question he shouldn’t ask, the door to poor choices. But some external force compelled him, though he knew it was wrong…it was so wrong.
“I came all the way here for no reason other than to give a dying man his last wish.”
“And to sell the estate,” he pointed out.
“That, too.” She bobbed her head. “And I stayed here with you. That might just be the biggest chance I’ve ever taken.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew I wouldn’t last more than a day without wanting to touch you.” Her voice wobbled ever so slightly. “Without wanting to taste you.”
He shifted in his seat as the slow burn of arousal started deep in his belly and spread out, hardening him, tensing him. His sweatpants left little room to hide the effect of her words and he saw her bright, blue-green eyes flick downward. They were both fighting to restrain themselves. Trying desperately not to give into the pull.
“And now?”
In the early morning light her hair looked like spun gold, her skin clear and glowing. For a moment he allowed himself to wonder what it would be like to have her wake in his arms. Would he one day regret that he gave up that opportunity?
“I’m wondering why we restricted ourselves to a single night.” She sucked on her lower lip.
She was just there. So close.
She made the first move, rising from her chair and taking the spot next to him on the couch. She sat with her feet tucked under her, looking directly at him. Daring him. Her hand landed softly on his thigh.
“I never did like following the rules,” he said.
“I’m shocked.” Stella leaned forward, her fingertips brushing the bulge beneath Evan’s sweats. He was so hard, so ready.
“God, woman. Are you trying to test me?”
It was liked she’d unleashed a force beyond his control and now being in the same room as her was making him crazy. It was wrong on so many levels—he had one purpose. Buy the estate. Yet he couldn’t resist her.
Falling asleep with her by his side was far too comfortable. It was a red flag; a sign he was getting too involved. Too invested. And the path to disappointment was clearly marked ahead. Yet here she was, touching him intimately as though she had some kind of claim on his body, like she could have him any time she wanted to. And goddamn if that didn’t make him hard as a rock.
“Maybe you’re tempting me,” she said.
“No way.” He covered her hand with his, encouraging her to stroke him more boldly. Her hair was messy, her lips parted and she swiped her tongue across them. “You tell me you want to taste me and expect me not to have this reaction?”
“And what a hell of a reaction it is.” She ran her hand up and down the solid length of his cock.
His eyes rolled back. “You’re diabolical, you know that, right?” He pulled her toward him. Her knees pressed either side of his hips, while she hovered above him. Teasing him. “I swear, on that plane I thought you were a prim little miss. Hot as hell, but prim and proper.”
“If I’m not prim and proper, then what am I?” She brushed her lips against his ear as she lowered herself into his lap.
He ran his hands up, under the hoodie, seeking out her hardened, sensitive nipples. “Crazy, bossy, sexy.”
“Succinct description,” she said with a laugh.
“It’s true.” He continued to stroke and pluck at her breasts. “You are sexy, especially right now. Not emotionally devoid in the slightest.”
She stiffened at his reference to their conversation over dinner last night. “Right.”
“Your ex-fiancé was clearly daft.” He removed his hands from her burning skin and cupped her face, his thumbs brushing her cheekbones. “Giving you up for money.”
“He wasn’t daft, just a criminal.” She pulled her face away from his hands, rebuking his tenderness. “In any case, I’m over it. Learned that lesson, moved on. Permanently.”
He pulled her in, his mouth forcing hers open so he could meet her. She matched his rough, insistent kisses, letting her tongue stroke his while she circled her hips against him. She was hard and soft. Demanding and giving. A multitude of complexity and layers and dimensions.
“You don’t have to worry about me.” He traced kisses along the length of her jaw before capturing her mouth again. “I’m only after a little more of this. Besides, it’s still dark out.”
“Still night-time,” she said, her voice growing husky with need. “So I guess we wouldn’t technically be breaking the rules if we went back to bed.”
His hands tangled in her hair. “We’re not going back to bed.”
She blinked at him. “We’re not?”
“I’ve got a fantasy about taking you in the shower.”
She climbed off his lap and started toward the bathroom. “I’ll get the water running.”
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Evan ignored the warning bells in his head as he detoured to the bedroom to grab a condom. One taste wasn’t enough. And something told him that a second taste wouldn’t satiate him, either. But right now his cock was the one in control and if he didn’t have her this second his world would implode.
The sound of rushing water filtered into the bedroom. His bed was a mess, tangled sheets and clothing strewn all around. Her blue dress lay in a heap in one corner. One night and his neat and tidy existence had been shattered.
It’s nothing. You’re blowing off steam. Of course it feels good—you’ve had years and years of build-up.
“Evan.” Stella’s singsong voice carried over the water. “I’m waiting.”
He ditched his clothes and followed temptation into the bathroom. She was in the shower, waiting for him. Water ran in rivulets down her incredible body, streaming over her pointed nipples and flat stomach. It clung to the naked lips of her sex, calling him. Drawing him closer. She sucked on her cheek as her eyes swept down lower, until she caught on his cock.
“All ready to go?” she said with a throaty laugh.
He tore the foil packet open and rolled the condom on. “Almost.”
His balls were tight and achy as if they hadn’t just woken up after a night of losing themselves in one another. Hell, his skin still smelled of her. But he wasn’t done, not by a long shot.
He stalked toward her—thanking his lucky stars that he’d opted for the giant double shower. Warm water hit him a second before she reached out.
“So tell me about this fantasy,” she said, bringing a bar of soap to his skin, rubbing in circular motions until a foamy lather coated him. “I’m all ears.”
“It involves me fucking you up against this wall.” He backed her up until he had her wedged against the tiles. “Your legs wrapped around me while I’m balls-deep inside you.”
A visible shudder ran through her body. “Is that all?”
Millionaire Under the Mistletoe Page 11
