by Lyric James
“Do you like that?” he whispered against her cheek.
She nodded her head. “Yes. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
He chuckled softly and glanced up briefly toward the open windows, at the star sprinkled sky. “What if I had something better?”
“Better?” she asked, panting.
“Hmmmm,” he murmured, delighted at her response, and moved his mouth lower. When he reached the apex of her thighs, he lifted her hips and placed her legs over his shoulders.
* * * * *
Pleasure cascaded over Stella in waves. The seductive slide of Ian’s tongue was the single most pleasurable thing she’d ever felt in her life. He drove her to madness with the caress of his fingers, the gentle nip of his lips. It pushed her over the edge into erotic bliss. Her body seemed to come apart in pieces, each limb fragmented into its own sensual slice. Each pleasured, yet tormented by a tongue that stroked, licked and thrust her into a mindless stupor of ecstasy.
She gripped the feather-soft bedspread between her fingers as he nudged her legs wider and his mouth burrowed deeper between her thighs.
Would it ever end? Did she want it to? She whimpered with pleasure, not sure she ever wanted it to stop. She released a deep, shuddering moan as little shivers sped up and down her spine and her nipples reacted to each tease of his lips, each caress of his mouth. Somehow every deliberate sensation was connected by a corded knot of desire, and all Stella could think about was pulling him closer, deeper inside her. She wanted him to climb up her body and fill her with his blessed heat.
“Oh, Ian… Ian.”
When the orgasm hit, she squeezed her eyes shut and gasped. She bowed her back, gripping the comforter in her fingers, unable to believe it was actually happening. Pleasure swirled inside her, rising upward like a tornado, twisting and turning, sucking all the air out of her lungs. Never in her life had she felt something so wondrous, so exquisite. She never imagined sex would be like this for her.
Or did she?
Was this what she was afraid of? The type of ecstasy that numbed the mind and soul and made you crave more and more. When it subsided, she lay back, panting, as Ian crawled up her body and smiled then kissed her lips. She felt the pressure of him between her legs and struggled for breath as he entered her. She caught his gaze, hot and smoldering as he grit his teeth and plunged deep.
Another orgasm ripped through her, deep and sensual, a blaze of heat so fierce it brought tears to her eyes. He eased in and out, slowly, capturing her hands in his as he rocked her to his rhythm.
Outside it was completely dark. Through the two large open picture windows, stars lit the night sky casting shadows across his broad chest, speckled his sea green eyes. Stella stared at him, her mouth partially open in a silent oh. Slowly and provocatively, he moved with a measured, insistent rhythm. She arched upward to take all of him. Air whispered shallowly through her lungs as he thrust deeper and deeper, over and over until she was writhing, aching from another glorious release.
Ian’s eyes clouded, and his movements sped as he thrust into her once, twice, and then a third time until he stiffened and trembled, arching and calling out her name.
“Stella.”
He collapsed on top of her, shifted his body slightly so he wasn’t smothering her, and rubbed his hand up and down her back, his breath coming in short, harsh gasps.
Unwilling to break the sensuous spell between them, Stella didn’t say anything. As he stroked her, currents of electricity raced up her spine and made her shiver.
All her mind kept saying was more…more.
“I’m glad you agreed to come down to the beach with me,” he said huskily. “I’ve wanted to spend time… I’ve wanted this with you for a very long time.”
The old insecurities crept back. “I still don’t get that,” she said quietly.
Ian came up on his elbow, and Stella flushed at his penetrating gaze. He traced a finger down her nose, over her lips and chin, and down her neck, stopping just at her right nipple. An involuntary shudder rippled over her.
“I see beneath all of it, Stella.”
She hitched a sharp breath. “What?”
“The starched white shirts, pencil thin skirts, sensible shoes. The glasses,” he said, and took them off her face, placing them on the nightstand.
She looked away. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Ian palmed her cheek and tilted her face back. “Yes you do. You’re hiding. At least, you’re trying to.”
Placing her hands against his chest, she shoved.
“Uh uh,” he said, keeping her where she was. “Don’t do that. Don’t run away from me now.”
“Quit trying to analyze me.”
“Haven’t you done that to me already? Isn’t that the reason you refused me each and every time I flirted with you? Because you think you know who I am because of what you see on the surface?”
She looked away again. He was right. All she ever saw was a rich playboy, someone who’d never have to work a day in his life ever again, unlike her. But she denied it. “That’s not true.”
He arched a brow. “Yes it is, and you know it. You don’t know me, Stella. You know some things about me, and you’ve assumed that’s who I am all the time.”
She wanted to cross her arms over her chest or rise up and cover herself with the comforter, but he made that impossible. “Why are we having this discussion? What’s the point?”
“I want you to see me.”
“I do see you.” For a moment, he looked at her, not responding. She knew what he was talking about, but she refused to go there with him. Tonight wasn’t about getting to know Ian Hollis. It was about sex, and she didn’t want to change that.
With an easy strength, he lifted her from the bed and tucked her to his side, then strolled toward the bathroom door. Stella leaned into him and reluctantly wrapped her arms around his waist, savoring the guilty pleasure of his powerful body next to her, glad he let the seriousness edge away.
Next to the shower stall he guided her down on the edge of tub before he reached in and turned on the water. He kissed her neck, slid his lips over her shoulder. “I guess play time is over,” he said.
“What?”
“You’ve given me much more than two hours.”
“Oh yeah. The attic.” She was ashamed to admit she’d forgotten all about the real reason she came and was almost upset he hadn’t kept her in bed another hour or two. If he had, he wouldn’t have heard any objections from her.
This was precisely the reason she couldn’t get involved with someone like Ian. It had only been a couple of hours and he’d already made her lose focus, forget about her goals, the reasons she distanced herself from men. Her body didn’t seem to care about that. Each brush of his arm, each slide of his leg against her, made her toss aside all rational thought.
He kissed her nose. “I’m tempted to climb in here with you, but a promise is a promise. Finish your shower, and I’ll meet you up in the attic in about twenty minutes.”
Pulling her up, he kissed her lips, slow, measured, and with enough heat to make her insides quiver.
“See you in a bit.”
As she watched him walk out, her heart banging in her chest, she wished she’d asked him to join her in the shower and was surprised when she realized she didn’t want him to leave her.
* * * * *
Crouching down, Stella lifted the cold metal handle of a trunk and grinned when the top creaked. Inside, she sifted through a collection of books, old Halloween costumes, and children’s clothing. She smiled as she held up a princess costume, the fabric crinkling beneath her fingertips. It screamed Dayna, and she could see her eight or nine year old self twirling around in it for her grandmother.
“Okay, I wrapped each of the picture frames in the cloth you told me to use and labeled them.” Ian rubbed his hands together. “What else?”
A smile flirted on his lips as her gaze met his. There was so much dust floating in the air around them, she could b
arely see the exposed wooden beams in the ceiling. She’d kept as much distance as she could between them, finding things for him to do on the other side of the attic but each time he finished a task, he’d return to her side ready for his next assignment, almost gleeful. She stood, waving her hand in front of her face, afraid if she kept talking she’d begin to choke on the dust.
They’d been in the attic for a couple of hours. Despite the many boxes, broken vacuum cleaners, children’s toys and old clothing, she’d found some real treasures. Two armoires, a set of chairs, a bench, several tapestries and rugs, a hutch, bedroom furniture, three cabinets, and much more. She wished she’d badgered Dayna into letting her come much sooner.
Stella pointed to the other side of the room. “Those three mirrors over there need to be wrapped and tagged too,” she said, just as her stomach growled.
When her eyes widened, he smiled.
“It sounds like you need food instead.”
She cleared her throat and covered her stomach with her hand. “Maybe so.”
“You keep working and I’ll go downstairs and find us something to eat. I’ll bet you a hundred bucks Harper is downstairs in the kitchen right now whipping up something.”
Harper Coleman, a really good friend and chef, owned a chic little café in the heart of Miami. Stella had been surprised she’d taken off for the weekend to join them at the beach. If Stella was considered a workaholic, Harper was a close second behind her. “Okay. Thanks.”
She choked out a gasp when Ian pushed her into the shadow of one of the window seats and bent his head to kiss her, laying siege to her mouth, making everything inside her tremble with desire. When he stopped, her voice was shaky and soft. “What was that for?”
He only grinned and smiled as he backed away and descended the wobbly stairs. “I’ll be right back.”
Splaying her fingers in a fan against her breastbone, she sank down on the seat. Whenever he touched her, no matter how good it felt, it only reminded her they were a completely unsuitable combination.
Until this weekend she was okay with her life and, despite her money troubles, made good progress on her goals of graduating from college and owning her own business. But the feelings Ian evoked overwhelmed her. They were unfamiliar and made her feel reckless, made her want to be reckless, and she couldn’t let that happen.
Goodness she was pathetic. She couldn’t even handle one little kiss.
If she had any common sense, after this night was over, she’d put as much distance between herself and Ian Hollis as possible. A man like him would never understand the turmoil she endured during her childhood. A mother who paraded men around in front of her daughter as though they were pieces of candy in a jar, and when those relationships ended, would cry herself into a depression, forgetting about the impressionable little girl who craved her attention.
At least until the next man came along.
“Hey, what are you doing up here?”
She jumped and pivoted around to see Jessica, another friend, walking into the room.
“I saw Ian leaving. He said you were up here.” She glanced around. “Oh, never mind. You’re antiquing,” she said and grinned.
Stella stood, happy for the distraction from her thoughts. “Yeah. I’ve found a lot of really good pieces.”
“Is Ian helping, being a pest, or both?” Jessica asked.
Rolling her eyes, she said. “Both.”
Jessica lifted a hat from a box and sat it on her head. “That’s just like him.”
“What do you mean?” Stella asked.
“My grandmother used to have a hat just like this,” Jessica said, squatting down to admire herself in one of the mirrors. “He’s by the boys and girls club, three, sometimes four days a week. Most days I don’t know if he’s helping the kids or driving me crazy with his antics.”
With a slight shake of her head, Stella repeated, “The boys and girls club? Doing what?”
Jessica stood and put the hat back in the box. “Volunteering, coaching little league, tutoring, answering the phones at the front desk, helping parents set up e-mail accounts, teaching computer classes. You name it, he does it.”
“Ian?” Stella asked, incredulous.
“I know, right? You’d think with all the money he has, he’d spend his time flying from one side of the country to the other, but for the most part, he doesn’t. He’s really a homebody.”
Stella’s mind whirled with the new information. “Every time I see him, he’s talking about the parties he went to or the places he’s visited.”
Jessica looked at her quizzically. “Oh, I forgot. You don’t see him as much as I do.” She waved a hand. “The man’s a millionaire with homes on the East and West Coast, but for the most part, he spends most of his time here, at least during the week anyway. I don’t think there’s a day that goes by he doesn’t drop by the boys and girls club to pitch in and do something.”
Could she have been that wrong about Ian? Was he not the jet-setting playboy she thought he was? Had he been right? Did she judge him by what she only saw on the surface?
Yes.
“All right, girlfriend. I’m going to leave you to it. We’re going to be watching movies in the game room if you’re not ready to crash and burn when you get done up here.”
“Okay, thanks,” Stella said absently, her mind still on Ian. When she really thought about it, she did only see him occasionally; a friend’s birthday party, a cook-out, or like this weekend at the beach house. What was that, once every two or three months? She sat in the window seat and gazed out, seeing nothing.
Ian could literally live anywhere he wanted, travel anywhere he wanted. Hell, if he wanted to donate to any charity all he had to do was sit down and write a check, but instead, he gave his time, his time, helping kids. What did he say to her? You don’t know me, Stella. You know some things about me, and you’ve assumed that’s who I am all the time.
She released her ponytail, combed her fingers through her hair, and replaced the holder.
I see beneath all of it, Stella.
No, he didn’t. He didn’t know her.
Are you so sure about that?
“It’s time for a snack, beautiful. Harper swears you’d rather have this rabbit food instead of a nice juicy hotdog,” he said as he leveled himself up the steps and around the boxes and pieces of furniture she’d moved around.
Ian set a tray on a rickety table, pushed it toward her, and maneuvered a trunk so he was facing her as they ate. She nibbled on a piece of cheese, staring down at the dusty floor.
“I think there’s about to be trouble in the kitchen,” he said as he dipped a carrot stick into some ranch dressing.
She looked up. “What do you mean?”
“Harper and Blake.”
She nodded her head. Besides Dayna and Violet, Harper was one of her closest friends, and she knew for a fact that Harper really liked Blake, but she was so wrapped up in her career she didn’t attempt to make time to see if a relationship with him could go anywhere.
Sounds familiar.
She lowered her gaze but watched Ian.
Unlike her, Harper didn’t have a mother with a permanent habit of dating the wrong men only to end up with a broken heart. It was the main reasons Stella rarely dated. She lived in perpetual fear she would turn into her mother.
Before this weekend, Ian seemed like the wrong type of man for her. He was too gorgeous for his own good, and he knew how to have fun. But after listening to Jessica, she was beginning to second guess the nice little no way in hell box she’d put him in. “Thanks,” she said softly.
Ian glanced up. “For what?”
“Today. Making me take a break and enjoy myself, something I hardly ever do, helping me in the attic, and this,” she said, motioning toward the tray. She wouldn’t dare mention what else happened between them.
He beamed and popped a grape into his mouth. “A deal’s a deal. Two hours of playtime for an unending supply of manual labor. I
think you got the better end of the deal though.”
Boy did she. And she wasn’t thinking about his services in the attic either. Ian had woken up something inside her she’d squelched and buried a long time ago and now…now, Stella didn’t know if she could stuff it back down again. She picked at the loose thread hanging from the bottom of her T-shirt.
“So, what made you decide to open an antique store?” he asked, cutting into a glazed hamburger patty.
“My grandmother.” She smiled, thinking of her and all the wonderful memories she cherished. “Every weekend she would take me with her and we’d scour antique stores. Most of the time we didn’t even buy anything, but I learned so much about antiquities from her.”
Ian joined her in the window seat. Their thighs touched and heat sizzled up her body. She couldn’t think when he was this close. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Her heartbeat raced, and a fluttery feeling bloomed inside her belly.
“Opening your store was your way to remember her,” he affirmed, placing his hand on her clasped ones in her lap.
Stella nodded her head and gave him a close-lipped smile, fearful the tears welling up would begin to gush out. When she gazed down, it seemed almost normal for his fingers to be interlaced with hers. He squeezed then let her go, as if he understood exactly how she felt.
Leaning back, he continued. “What about your mother? Did she join you on these antiquity excursions, or was it just the two of you?”
Stella grimaced. The last thing she needed him to do was remind her about her mother. She’d done enough thinking about the woman already today. “Um. No. My mother had better things to do.”
“Better things to do than spend time with her daughter?” he queried and reached toward their meal tray to dip a stray carrot stick into all that remained of the ranch dressing.
A frozen smile on her face, she answered, “Well, let’s see, better things to do like fiancé number one, fiancé number two, or fiancé number three…shall I go on?” Rising abruptly, she almost knocked over the rickety table holding the tray. They both caught it just in time before it crashed to the floor.
