And he fully intended to. As swiftly as possible.
The grotto was warm and welcoming, a hedonistic cave he’d built with his own two hands. Better that he should enjoy it first, Gareth thought. After all, Highgrove would have it to himself every night afterwards. He was testing it, Gareth told himself. Making sure it would live up to Highgrove’s expectations.
He backed Juliet into one of the small seating areas and rocked hard against her. “Do you have any idea how desperately I want you?” he asked her, his voice as tortured as the rest of his body.
Juliet slid her hands over his chest, gently abrading his nipples with her fingernails. “I h-hope it’s as much as I w-want you,” she said, a hint of nervousness in her breathy voice. She licked a path down the side of his neck, then kissed the underside of his jaw, making his flesh prickle and burn. A hiss slipped from between his clenched teeth. He bent his head, nudged the cup of her bathing suit aside and suckled the perfect tip of her rosy breast. The taste of her danced over his tongue, making him groan with pleasure.
Juliet gasped, a sound of delight that resonated directly in his loins. He reached up and carefully, slowly pulled the tie of her bathing suit from behind her neck, then smiled against her nipple as the fabric came free. “Lovely,” he murmured thickly as her creamy skin came into view. “So damned beautiful.”
She tensed. “You don’t have to say those things,” Juliet said. “Really.”
Gareth paused. He looked up and his gaze caught hers. “I know I don’t have to say them,” he told her. “I want to say them. Because they’re true.” He didn’t touch her, merely pinned her with a sincere gaze, laying bare how he felt about her. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Juliet.” He bent forward and kissed the tip of her nose. “To me, you are perfect.”
A soft melting look came into her eyes, twin pools of dark emotion and a slow wavering smile slid over her lips. “Thank you,” she said, her voice a bit shaky. “I think you’re pretty damned perfect as well.”
Gareth grinned at her. “You know what else I think is going to be perfect?” he asked, sliding a finger determinedly down her belly.
“Wh-what?”
“Us. Together.”
He trailed a finger over her mound and smiled at the immediate catch in her breathing. Then he lifted her up over the side of the pool, where she landed on the oversized beach towel he’d placed there earlier today. Smiling at him, Juliet rolled over, making room for him as he quickly slid out of the water as well.
Rather than jump immediately onto her, Gareth allowed his gaze to drift over her, a slow, lengthy perusal, drinking her in. Telling her she was beautiful was one thing—proving it to her was going to take much more attention to detail.
Starting now.
He bent and slid his tongue over her collarbone, tasting the beads of moisture which had collected in the delicate hollow, then tasted a path over her shoulder, up the side of her neck, and found her mouth. She was open and ready, rolling into him, her hot wet flesh branding him where it touched. Want sizzled along his nerve endings, heat flared in an instant, burning up good intentions, charring anything remotely resembling restraint. Her hands were suddenly all over him. Sliding over his shoulders and down his back, tugging at the waist of his trunks, then slipping beneath to where his eager dick practically leapt into her waiting palm.
Gareth bit back a groan as she slid her hand up and down over his slippery skin. He hardened to the point of pain, felt his balls draw up, the impending orgasm gather in the back of his loins.
Not now, dammit. Not before he’d been inside her.
Gareth snagged a condom from the edge of the blanket, stripped off his trunks and carefully slid the protection into place. Juliet had slithered out of her bikini bottoms and kicked them to the side.
Concave belly, long graceful limbs, plump rosy-tipped breasts, and a dark thatch of curls that dared him to try and take it slowly.
A shudder worked its way through him and he swallowed hard as he positioned himself between her thighs. She arched her hips in welcome, her dark eyes heavy-lidded and desperate, yet still just the slightest bit unsure. Bare, but scared, he realized.
He bent forward and kissed her, twined his fingers through hers, then pushed slowly into her. Lights burst behind his lids and a feeling of utter contentment washed through him as he seated himself firmly inside her. He drew back, shaken, then plunged once again.
“You—”
He thrust again, rocking forward, watched her mouth open in silent pleasure.
“—are—”
He pushed again, tightening his fingers around hers, desperate to stem the flow of heat pounding through his veins.
“—beautiful,” he finished. Then, unable to control himself for another minute, he grabbed her hips and plunged in and out of her, back and forth, harder and deeper. He couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t bury himself far enough into her. He had to—He needed—
JULIET LOCKED her legs around Gareth’s waist, bent forward and licked a male nipple. He pounded harder, pushing her closer and closer to the edge of mindlessness. She could feel her body tightening, readying for release and the knowledge that they could actually get there together made her buck determinedly beneath him.
She clamped her feminine muscles around him, desperate to keep that wonderful draw and drag between their joined bodies. Her breath came in short, faltering puffs. Her breasts bounced, absorbing the force of his manic thrusts, and with every push of him deep inside her, her nipples tingled and pouted, wishing for one more kiss from his hot, wonderful mouth. Sweat slickened the small of her back and she bit her lip as another bolt of pleasure lanced through her.
“Gareth,” she gasped, begging for more. She drew her legs back even further, allowing him to go deeper and he took it greedily, hammering into her. Harder and faster, then deeper and faster still. The corded muscles of his throat bunched and the look of determined delight on his face was enough to make her preen with pleasure.
She’d done this to him.
Her.
You are beautiful, he’d said, punctuating each word with a determined thrust into her body. And for a moment—in this very instant—she could believe him.
Juliet drew his head down for a kiss, pulling his tongue deep into her mouth. He groaned against her lips, a masculine sound that was one of the best things she’d ever tasted in her life.
“Juliet,” he murmured, his voice anguished with need. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”
She rocked hard beneath him, leaned forward and nipped his shoulder. “I hope it’s as fabulous as what you’re doing to me.” She giggled. “I’m almost impressed.”
He drew back. “Almost?” he asked suspiciously.
She chuckled at him, then tightened around him once more. “I’ll let you know when I’m really impressed,” she said.
A knowing smile slid over that wonderfully carnal mouth. “Clearly I’m not trying hard enough.” He reached down between their joined bodies and knuckled her clit, tearing an unexpected gasp from her throat. “But that’s easily rectified.”
Three strokes later her mouth opened in a silent scream, her back bowed so hard off the beach towel she feared it would break, a dizzying array of color flashed behind her closed lids and every nerve ending in her sex sang with unprecedented joy. She couldn’t catch her breath, and every muscle tensed with the long-awaited release.
A masculine smile of approval clinging to his lips, Gareth stared down at her, mossy eyes twinkling. “Are you impressed now?”
She couldn’t talk, couldn’t form a single word. Instead, though every pulse made her tingle with unbearable delight, she lifted her hips and begged for more.
Gareth’s smile promptly fled and, having satisfied her, he seemed to release a bit of his rigid control. He pushed into her, sliding her back across the towel. From the dimmest recesses of her mind, she heard the water falling in the distance, saw the steam rising up. Gareth
pushed again, harder and deeper, and she met him thrust for thrust, determined that she wouldn’t be the only person here who left impressed.
She bent forward and licked his chest, his neck, slid her hands over his hot flesh. Warm supple muscle beneath her greedy palms. She made a little noise in her throat and a second later, she felt Gareth go rigid above her. He drove into her, angling deep and held, his big body quaking above hers. She felt him tremble and shudder inside her and a rush of warmth gathered near her womb as it pooled in the end of the condom. Another sparkler of heat detonated in her belly and she held him close, enjoying the contact.
Gareth drew back and smiled down at her, then pressed a tender kiss against her lips. “I was right,” he murmured, a strange look in his eyes, one that was tender and curiously unreadable.
“About what?” Juliet asked, feeling oddly nervous.
“Us. We’re perfect together.” He carefully withdrew, disposed of the condom, then rolled her toward him and wrapped them in the beach blanket.
Heartbreakingly so, she silently agreed, snuggling into his side. Pity she couldn’t bring herself to believe that it would last. This single night would have to be good enough, Juliet decided, knowing that the end had to come. And soon, because she didn’t want the mess of an awkward official brush-off or break-up to ruin her memory.
For the first time in her life, Juliet Swan felt beautiful and sexy and wanted. This was a memory she would protect at all costs. Irrational? Yes. But self-preservation didn’t always follow logical thought….
9
GARETH KNEW he was supposed to be a chaperone, but when his date looked as good as Juliet did, admittedly he was having trouble focusing on his responsibilities. Particularly not when all he wanted was to find a deserted room and have his wicked way with her. Preferably against a wall.
“Mom didn’t say you were bringing a date,” his nephew said. Jeremy nodded, seemingly impressed. “She’s pretty hot.”
Gareth grinned, watching Juliet return from the ladies’ room. “Thank you. I think so, of course.”
“Is it a secret that you brought a date, or can I tell her?”
“Keep it under your hat, if you don’t mind. I want to keep Juliet to myself for a little while before your mother gets hold of her.”
His sister, intuitive wench that she was, would undoubtedly recognize what Gareth wasn’t quite ready to admit to himself—that he’d fallen head over heels in love with Juliet Swan. Then they’d have to talk about it and his sister would press him for plans, and at the moment, other than spending as much time with Juliet as he possibly could, he didn’t have any. And given that she’d been a bit…distant since he’d picked her up, he wasn’t altogether sure how long that would be. He suspected she was spooked. Welcome to the club, sweetheart, Gareth thought.
He was freaking terrified.
Jeremy snorted. “Can’t blame you for that.” He clapped Gareth on the back, then with a muttered “cool,” strolled onto the dance floor where he reclaimed his date from a group of gyrating young girls.
Looking absolutely stunning in a long Grecian-style white gown, Juliet walked over toward him. “Thank you so much for bringing me here tonight,” she said. “I skipped my own prom, so this is an unexpected treat.”
He frowned. “You skipped your prom?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t have a date and I didn’t want to go alone.”
That was perfectly understandable. But it tugged at his heartstrings to think of her home alone in her room, missing what should have been a memorable milestone in her life. The guys in her class must all have been morons. Then again, would he have recognized what a beauty she truly was at seventeen? He’d like to think so, but he wasn’t certain.
“Well, I’m glad that you’re with me tonight.” He paused, searched her face. “In fact, I was hoping that you’d spend the night with me.” He nuzzled her ear. “We’ll bring in Valentine’s Day in style.”
Juliet’s eyes took on a guarded quality and she shook her head. His stomach turned to lead. He knew—knew—before she said another word what was coming. He’d been feeling it all evening, her slowly but surely distancing herself. He couldn’t imagine why, nor could be understand how he’d read things so terribly wrong last night.
“Sorry, I can’t. I’ve actually got a pretty busy morning.”
“More work at Highgrove’s?” he asked, knowing that it was impossible. He’d awakened alone in the grotto and had found her back in the boudoir putting the final touches on “The Ugly Duckling.” Whereas the swan had been uncertain of her beauty before, Juliet had repainted her with a small sensual smile which bespoke intimate confidence.
The change was subtle but significant, and he recognized it in her as well. He’d told her she was beautiful last night and he knew she’d believed him. So why then was she pulling away? What possible reason could she have for backing off when things were going so well between them?
“No,” she said, giving her head a small shake. “Just studio work. Then, of course, lunch at my parents.”
He waited, hoping she’d invite him. He swallowed a sigh when the invitation didn’t come and ignored the uncomfortable prick in his chest.
“Dinner tomorrow night, then?” he pressed. If she was going to cut him loose, then he would make her do it. He wouldn’t let her take the easy way out. Frankly, he thought he deserved better than that.
Again, she shook her head. “I’m going to keep things low-key. Stay at home and gorge myself on chocolate.”
“And conversation hearts?” he asked.
She smiled wanly. “Of course.”
“Would you like some company?” Or was she already having company? Gareth wondered, remembering the bleached-blond guy with the dark tan he’d seen pull out of her driveway just as he was pulling in. She’d said he was her stylist, but now Gareth wasn’t so sure.
“You know, Gareth, I think we need to slow things down a bit.”
He felt his temper flare. “That wasn’t the impression I got last night. Do you want to slow things down, Juliet, or end them altogether? I think after the past couple of weeks, you owe me the courtesy of the truth.”
Gauntlet thrown down, Gareth stared at her and waited.
JULIET’S STOMACH twisted into a knot of dread. She’d really wanted to avoid this. But apparently Gareth had sensed the change and wasn’t going to allow it. Juliet had absolutely no experience in breaking up with someone and decided that it wasn’t to her liking, particularly when she suspected she’d fallen in love with the man she was attempting to end things with.
Which was all the more reason she’d decided she had to break things off with him. She had to beat him to the punch, to insulate her heart to the best of her ability. This was—he was—quite simply, too good to be true. Guys like Gareth didn’t fall for girls like her. Makeover or no, it just simply didn’t happen. Hoping for it, wishing for it wouldn’t make it so. She was smart. She was practical. And her smart, practical mind told her this could not last. She’d be better off to take what she’d gotten—wonderful memories of the most wonderful sex of her entire life—and be done with it.
And though it was really tempting to savor a Valentine memory with Gareth, Juliet just couldn’t bring herself to do it. Every year would mark the anniversary of something she’d loved and lost. She didn’t care what Tennyson had said, she didn’t want that. Didn’t think she could bear it.
But Gareth was right. After the past two weeks—and particularly last night—she did owe him the truth. “Are you sure you want to talk about this now?” she asked.
“My shift is over at midnight,” Gareth said. “That’s five minutes away, so I guess now is as good a time as any.”
She’d been afraid he’d say that. Juliet released a shaky breath. “I actually think we should quit while we’re ahead,” she finally admitted. “What we’ve shared has been great,” she admitted, cursing the crack in her voice. “But, as I said, things are moving a little too fast for me.�
� And I have a wonderful memory I want to savor. I don’t want it spoiled with a broken heart later.
He stared at her, his mossy green eyes in torment. “Are you saying you don’t want to see me anymore?”
Damn, this was much harder than she’d thought it would be, and she hadn’t counted on it being easy. She couldn’t bring herself to say the words, essentially to break her own heart, so instead she merely nodded, just the slightest jerk of her head in affirmation.
Ironically the intro to Journey’s “Faithfully”—one of her all-time favorite ballads—suddenly played through the speakers, the last dance of the night. Rather than say a word, looking defeated and hurt, Gareth merely took her hand and led her out onto the dance floor. He held her close, his big warm hand at the small of her back, the scent of his aftershave in her nostrils. She breathed him in, imprinting this moment in her memory.
And above the music, a sound only she could hear, she could have sworn she heard her own heart break.
10
VALENTINE’S DAY and Cupid, the chubby winged bastard, had screwed him again, Gareth thought as he sat in his recliner and watched the sun peep through the blinds. Sleep would have offered an escape, he knew, but he hadn’t even tried. Instead, he’d come right in, opened a bottle of Scotch and had nursed it off and on all night while staring at his painting.
His gaze zeroed in on her signature in the corner and he felt the back of his throat burn. What the hell was wrong with her? Couldn’t she tell that they had something special? That this wasn’t just some damned harmless going-nowhere fling?
Evidently not. Because, according to her, she had very little experience with relationships. He snorted. For someone who had so little experience, she’d certainly mastered the breaking-up part pretty damned well. Because he’d wanted to retain the smallest portion of his pride, he hadn’t argued with her last night. He’d wanted to, but…couldn’t.
Blazing Bedtime Stories Page 21
