High Heels & Bicycle Wheels

by Jane Linfoot

  ‘Thanks for bringing me here, it’s beautiful.’ She kicked off her flip-flops, buried her feet in the soft sand and put her hands on her hips. Suddenly the vamp was gone, and she was there, a whole lot shorter, hair whipping in the wind, linen all crumpled, eyes shining up at him.

  ‘Coming in the water, then?’ Not being able to resist goading her. Payback for what she’d put him through all day.

  ‘Nice thought, but we don’t have our swimmers.’ She chewed her lip doubtfully, put her hand to her brow, and squinted wistfully at the sun sinking over the sea.

  He was determined to brazen it out here, see how far he could push her. ‘Who cares about swimmers, underwear will do.’

  ‘Shit, Jackson.’ She took a deep breath, gave a tilt of her head and wrinkled her nose. ‘You may as well know, I haven’t got any on.’

  ‘What…?’ Feigning surprise was cheap.

  ‘Don’t ask why.’ She gave sniff, and rolled her eyes. ‘But I’m definitely without knickers.’

  He allowed himself a minute to enjoy the shivers those words sent zinging through his body. ‘So you’ll be skinny dipping after all, then?’ He hung onto his grave expression. ‘When you mentioned it this morning I thought that was a bluff.’ His stomach lurched as he watched her face drop.

  ‘What a shame. I’m so sorry, Jackson.’ She turned her face up to him, crestfallen. ‘All this way, and I’ve wrecked it – I haven’t even got any knickers in my bag.’

  Hot was what she’d been all day, all arch smiles and confidence, glossy and sexy, perfectly buffed, with her killer heels, her raunchy butt, and her carefully slicked lips. Sizzling, scorching blistering. All day and he’d been aching to touch her, and all day he’d held back, held off. But now she was here, pale lipped and creased, tangled by the wind, her sudden vulnerability flipping his guts, she was completely irresistible. Then his own grin broke free.

  The way those bare lips parted, if she didn’t shut them soon he would have to… He took a step forward.

  Dammit. He bent to meet her mouth, but she’d already whisked around and was away, running down the beach.

  ‘Come on, we can still paddle.’ She yelled to him, as she stamped up a storm of surf in the shallows, and for the second time that day, as he broke into a run, he found himself obeying without question. As he arrived at her side she was thigh-deep, wading, dress hitched high, skin already flushed with the chill. Putting his faith in the strength of his Calvin Klein’s, he threw off his jeans, and splashed in after her. Bumping hips, and he had the advantage given she was clutching her dress with both hands. One step, he’d grasped a handful of hair, yanked back her head.

  ‘What the…’ Her mumbled protest melted away as he crashed his mouth over hers. He caught the lingering taste of cookie dough sweet on her lips, then her tongue met his. No holding back, she was already out there, whipping his breath away, turning his pulse onto fast forward. Achingly sweet, yet hungry, demanding, thrusting her breasts against him, grinding against the thick heat of his erection, hands still on her hem. Dizzying, as the waves sucked and swirled around their legs, then the fleeting feeling of coming home, was overtaken by the mindless desire to bury his whole self in her.

  ‘Come on you.’ He staggered backwards, dragging himself out of the kiss. Bent to put a hand under her knees, another under her arm, then one swoop, and he’d lifted her high, and was striding out of the water.

  ‘Grab my jeans before the tide takes them.’ He paused to dip her shoulder, and she whisked them up. Then he marched back up the beach, half threw her down on the rug, and landed beside her, propping himself on one elbow.

  ‘Jackson.’ She lay, hair splashed across the wool, eyes smudgy and imploring, lips parted expectantly. The wet clingy fabric of her dress ruched high, the buttons pulling as her legs splayed. She jumped as his hand landed on her thigh, shuddered as he edged it upwards, unbuttoning as he went, his own shudder echoing back, as his hand slid. The soft skin of her inside leg was salty-wet against his fingertips, as he wound all the way to her pubes. He hesitated a second to take in the colour of her there. Still heart-stoppingly blonde. Then he went to work, scouring the horizon of the cliffs, as he sorted the rest of the buttons. Great. Looked like they were alone, but he left her belt done up as a precaution. Her dress gaped, to expose full breasts, bursting against white lace.

  ‘Nice bra.’ His voice grated with need.

  ‘Front opening.’ She slipped him a knowing smile. ‘Let me.’ One twist from her, and her breasts were all his.

  How the heck he didn’t come on the spot, he wasn’t sure, as he took in the most aroused nipples in the history of the world. He took a second to regain control, then scraped a thumb lightly across each, heard her quiet moan as they peaked in response. Dipping his head, he bent, teased with his tongue, sucked, grazed with his teeth as her moans rose, working the other side between his finger and thumb.

  ‘Ahhh, Jackson.’ She was writhing beneath him as he swapped sides, raking her fingers, first through his hair, then sliding her hand, under his T-shirt, scraping his spine with her nails. Sending high voltage shocks through his ribcage as she dug into his flesh in response to his rougher bites. Sliding his other hand down, slithering across the soft warmth of her stomach, and feeling her ribs collapse as his fingers slithered downwards, and he honed on her throbbing clit.

  ‘Yes.’

  Stroking, he slid one finger, then two inside her, feeling the whole hot wet heat of her clamping on to him. Then he moved downwards, tracing his lips over the soft curves of her stomach, as the heady scent of her engulfed him. Delving with his tongue, hearing her loud moan as he found her clit. If today had been torture, this was the sweetest torture of all – tangling, sucking, licking, sending her softly wild, her feral groans rising and falling, sending him off the scale. Then suddenly, she disintegrated under him, thrashing onto his mouth, tearing at his hair as she screamed, panted, howled, ripping at the skin on his back, then thumping her fist onto the sand.

  ‘Jackson.’ She was gulping, choking, ‘That was totally….’ She paused, gasping for breath, ‘….amazing. There’s a condom in my bag, shall I get it?’ It was a plea, not a question.

  ‘A girl who carries condoms, but not knickers is my kind of girl.’ It slid out without a thought, along with his grin of appreciation. ‘Although…’ What the hell was he thinking? No woman was his, or ever would be. Plus they were on a public beach. ‘It might be best to wait, seeing as it’s still light – unless you’ve got a better idea.’ He could already imagine the headlines. He might be close to bursting here, but a rain-check was the sensible option.

  ‘I have, as it happens.’ She was already sitting up.

  He groaned loudly as her hand made sudden, unexpected contact, grasping his erection through the fully-stretched fabric of his pants. One tug, another groan and he sprang free. One nudge, and he landed on his back, his erection towering towards the sky. The next moment her hand was pushing at his T-shirt, and a curtain of hair brushed his hip. What the…? He choked as Cherry’s hot mouth slid right over the end of him.

  ‘Holy shit.’ Desperate. He clung onto reality, threw out the anchors to stop the vortex that was sucking him in. He couldn’t come, not right… She might not even want him to. ‘This might…not…take…’ The words ground to a halt in his throat, tumbled away by a full scale roar as an avalanche of pure pleasure thundered into him, and the volley of his ejaculation surged. He thrust with a rocket force, straight down her throat, then the after-tow picked him up, and carried him a million miles to who the hell knew where.

  ‘I can’t believe you carried me out of the sea’ He had no idea how long they’d been lying there, when her head, heavy on his flank, finally shifted slightly.

  As the clouds pulled into focus, scudding across a fading sky, she rubbed her nose, absently, already moving on. ‘I’m quite heavy.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘You must be quite strong, to lift me I mean.’

  ‘Are y
ou trying to make me dig a hole for myself? Well, the considered version is – I work out, you were light as a feather. Okay?’ He gave a chuckle, brushed her hair off her cheek, let his voice drop. ‘I value my life too much to say I do weight training.’

  ‘You…’

  ‘What?’ He rolled out of the range of her slap, dragged his boxers back into place, sprung to his feet.

  A minute later she was chasing him down the beach.

  Chapter 29

  ‘Do you want cocoa?’

  Back home again, and Jackson followed her into the kitchen, a breath behind her, his growl reverberating against her neck. Bryony hesitated. Two hours sitting next to him in the car, watching those oh-so-capable hands sliding over the steering wheel, biting her lip every time she thought about how he’d exploded into her throat just before. After the way he’d turned her inside out on the beach, her ache for him should be satisfied not amped off the scale.

  One lazy finger arrived on the nape of her neck. Ran slowly, yet deliberately down the length of her spine, sending shivers sparking through her thorax. She leaned back into him as her knees faltered.

  ‘Cocoa?’ She snatched another close-up of his delicious man-scent, and caught the brunt of his erection on her butt. ‘Later maybe.’ Enough to make a girl disintegrate.

  ‘Good answer.’ He twisted her around to face him.

  She kicked off her shoes, dragged in a deep breath and angled her head expectantly. Already hooked on looking up at him then. He came down to meet her, feathered her lower lip with his tongue. Then he cradled her scalp with one open hand, wound the other arm around her and clamped her against the rippling heat of his body. And as if that wasn’t enough to take her breath away, he came in and kissed her like she’d never been kissed. Deep, velvety, powerful, dizzying. Going on forever. When she finally opened her eyes and pulled away, she felt like she’d been to heaven and back at least.

  A sudden pang of guilt sprang into her chest. Now it came to it, she didn’t want to push Jackson where he didn’t want to go. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’

  She watched the corners of his eyes crinkle as a wave of amusement passed across his face.

  ‘You don’t think I’m grown up enough to make my own decisions?’

  ‘You seemed reluctant. All that one night stuff?’

  The humour left his face, his voice deepened, and he rubbed a thumb across her jaw. ‘Trying to save you trouble, I’m not around for long.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m here, then I’ll be gone, that’s how it is.’

  ‘Grab the fun, live in the moment, isn’t that what you said?’ No need to tell him if he’d wanted it any other way that she’d have legged it long ago. ‘Sounds good to me.’ Smiling up at him – and oh, wasn’t up good – a flicker of concern in those melting brown eyes of his told her Jackson Gale was running more scared than he was letting on.

  Best to set him straight now rather than later.

  ‘Are you thinking I’m going to get all clingy?’ She registered his hesitation, scoured his face for clues.

  ‘Clingy?’ His voice broke.

  She’d got it in one. ‘You just assume I’m going to want more don’t you?’ She pounced, then eased off. ‘Don’t worry, my body’s coming to this party but my emotions are elsewhere.’ Not quite the truth, but a foolproof way to say she was not up for involvement.

  ‘And where would that be?’ And so like him to jump on it, except then his eyes softened. ‘An ex?’

  ‘Kind of…’ Thinking of Matt here, and unrequited love central. Being hooked on him had kept her conveniently out of the game, and no need to say it was a game she was too scared to join.

  ‘Still in love with him?’

  Another typical, Jackson-has-to-know-everything question, which she wasn’t going to deign with an answer.

  ‘It’s complicated.’ How the heck had they got onto this? She gave a sigh. ‘But the good news is, I won’t want any more than your hot body, for a couple of nights.’

  ‘So that’s a deal then, we’re both here for the fun. Speaking of heat…’ He flipped her a grin, nestled a finger in the hollow at the base of her throat, then dragged it slowly downwards. ‘Your room or mine?’

  ‘Erm…’ She swallowed a shiver. Bed with Jackson? That was something else. So scary, but so what she ached to do. So different from that night in Scarborough, which seemed so long ago now, when she wanted to avoid bed with Jackson at all costs, and now she couldn’t think of anything that sounded better.

  ‘Executive decision. Mine’s got the best TV, and the biggest bed, and a whopping spa-bath. Not that we’ll be watching TV, or sleeping much.’ He broke away, went to the fridge, rammed an ice bucket under the ice dispenser, grabbed a bottle of champagne from the fridge as the ice chips flew, grinning across at her as he clattered the bottle into the ice. Then he took her hand and gently, but firmly pulled her in the direction of his bedroom. ‘Come on Cherry, let’s go and play with bubbles.’

  There were two things Bryony noticed about going to bed with an athlete: 1. Positions. 2. Stamina – and both were incredible. Which was the reason why Jackson woke her at eleven o’clock the next morning, and why she was opening her eyes, raking her gaze over the flexing muscles in his forearms, mentally shaking her head in disbelief at what she’d got up to the night before.

  ‘Scrambled eggs, smoked salmon and bagels okay for you, Cherry?’

  ‘Wow, you cooked this? That coffee smells amazing.’ She pushed up to sitting, and blinked at Jackson, who was deliciously morning-crumpled, in a faded T, and low-slung cotton pants. ‘I’m ravenous.’

  ‘I thought you might be.’ He slid the tray onto the bed, sat down beside it, and began to pour coffee. ‘All part of the service.’

  ‘What time is it? What about work?’

  ‘Don’t panic, I checked the itinerary.’ He gave her a wink. ‘You have exactly eight minutes to eat, because it says hot sex at eleven-ten.’

  He grinned wickedly and she bit back a smile, took a slurp of coffee, then dug a fork into the eggs.

  ‘And who wrote that?’

  ‘I did, as I’m taking full responsibility for the schedule now. I don’t think I’m doing badly this far.’

  ‘So hot sex, then.’ She tried not to laugh and failed. ‘Will that be all day long?’

  ‘Not quite. There was my bike ride, but I’ve already done that, and I included meals, a film or two, and an after breakfast shower.’

  ‘Right.’ Not in the vast spa-tub in front of the window, but in the wet room where she’d had a birds-eye view of him yesterday. ‘Great… Fab… Brilliant…’ Not. How the hell was she going to face him in the very place where he’d been when she’d watched him pleasuring himself? Her stomach crunched up with guilt, not only for having intruded on him, but for the way she’d come so easily as she’d watched him.

  ‘Everything okay?’ His brows furrowed, as he screwed up his face in a quizzical stare.

  ‘Mmmm.’ What was it with Jackson? Sometimes she had the feeling he was able to read her mind. ‘Couldn’t be better.’

  A less perceptive man would be so much easier.

  ‘This has to be one of the world’s best showers.’ Jackson grinned at her through a mist of steam, as he adjusted the controls.

  ‘It’s quite a boyish place, isn’t it? Brown tiles, and power jets.’ She let her towel fall to the floor, as she stepped past the glass screen into the horizontal arcs of spray. Heard his growl of approval as the pummelling water stung her skin to goose bumps and rapped her nipples to instant attention.

  ‘Come here.’ His voice was low and hungry. Swiping away the rivulets that ran down his face, he found her mouth with his and swept her into a long, hot kiss that sent her head spinning.

  As she resurfaced, breathless, heart banging, her eyes slid upwards to the high level window she’d been looking through yesterday. Chin against his chest, she rubbed her eye with a fist, scraped away the water to see more clearly. She could make out the balcony rai
l high above.

  ‘What are you looking at?’ His nail dug into her neck, scraped across her shoulder.

  ‘Nothing special.’

  ‘That’s the balcony you were on yesterday.’ Matter of fact. Straight up. Simultaneously nailing her, with his stare, and his erection, which slid against her stomach.

  Her banging heart went into over-drive. ‘You saw me?’

  Those creases in his cheeks were a killer when he smiled.

  ‘I might have done.’ His fingers walked down her backbone as his questions tumbled lazily. ‘Why? Did you see me?’

  She gulped, drew in a long breath. How the heck was she going to answer that?

  He pounced. ‘You did see me, didn’t you?’ His face split and his low laugh exploded into her ear. ‘What a turn-on. You know what we do to voyeurs?’ His hand slipped between her legs, and she let out a yelp of surprise as he bent, caught a nipple between his teeth, and began to torture her with his tongue.

  ‘What?’ Her reply descended into a moan as he began to rub her clit. Talk about technique. She was throbbing onto him, her knees buckling within seconds. ‘Jackson… Jackson… Oh God, Jackson…’

  ‘Voyeurs have to pay.’

  One thumb, one lazy graze of her other nipple, pushed her straight over the cliff-edge, and launched her into orgasmic free-fall. As her insides exploded, she threw back her head, felt his arms slide around her waist, grasping her as her legs gave way. She fought to get her breath back as she came slowly back to earth.

  ‘Oh crap, Jackson, you make me do it every time.’

  ‘That’s the idea, Cherry.’ She could feel his low laugh, reverberating through his ribs against her cheek. ‘So what about yesterday? Did watching me come make you come too?’

  How the heck did he know? She clung onto him tightly, dug her fingers into his arms. No way would she admit that.

  ‘Cherry? Cherry?’ His voice was teasing now, verging on delight. ‘Blow me down, you did.’