by Erika Rose
He approached her warily, she could read the confusion in his eyes, and yet that didn’t stop her from continuing her charade. The familiar notes of Carly Simon started crooning through the speakers: He walked into the party, like he was walking onto a yacht.
Mia couldn’t help but smile. Karma was definitely on her side tonight. Jason looked at her questioningly, no doubt thinking the whole soundtrack was designed around her revenge.
She pulled out the chair for him. As soon as he sat down she disappeared into the kitchen. She grabbed the plate of Onaga Poke from the fridge. Knowing he had probably never eaten Ruby snapper in his life before, she believed the dish would amaze him, disregarding the fact that the locals thought of it as an aphrodisiac. She pranced into the dining room self-assured and plunked the plate down in front of him. Jason glanced between the plate and Mia and raised his eyebrows. Mia merely smiled sarcastically. “I hope you enjoy your first course sir, Onaga Poke.” She backed away whilst bowing, struggling to remember the last time revenge had felt so sweet.
Jason felt like he was in an alternate universe. He was sitting alone at his dining room table being served by Mia with Carly telling him how vain he was. Definitely not what he had in mind for a Sunday dinner. As soon as he tasted the raw fish dish, his taste buds sprang to attention. The dish was fresh and yet spicy enough to make him hot under the collar.
Mia in the meanwhile had headed back to kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine. She couldn’t help that the whole glass slid down in few sips. She was mad as hell.
As Mia walked back into the dining room, he noticed for the first time that she had worn a dress. He had only ever seen in her in shorts and cargo pants. The soft material floated around her legs flattering her curves. She bent over him, giving him a glimpse of cleavage unintentionally, “Can I pour you another drink, Mr. Pike?”
Jason had to bite down on his tongue, hard, to stop himself from grabbing her. Pissed-off-Mia was hot. He wanted her, he wanted to tame that feisty temper until she succumbed to him, and he watched her tremble with desire. He felt his manhood stir, and focused on Mia’s eyes instead of her cleavage, “A whisky, please.”
Mia’s eyes widened, “I would suggest a fruity white wine to compliment the food sir, but as you wish.” She strolled over to the wet bar in the corner and served him a scotch on the rocks.
Their hands briefly touched as she handed it to him, feeling her nerve endings awaken at his touch, Mia quickly pulled her hand back and returned to the kitchen to plate his main course. She poured herself a second glass of wine congratulating herself on her performance thus far. She had cooked him chicken kebabs with soy marinade and a seasonal organic salad. She fussed with the plate until she was certain it couldn’t look any better and sauntered into the dining room. She was a little tipsy from the wine, but still mad enough to spit fire. She took the empty plate from him and all but slammed the main course down in front of him.
Jason merely glanced up at her amused, “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but at least the food is good.” He slid off a piece of chicken and sank his teeth in.
Mia guffawed, “I’m glad you enjoy it, sir!”
Jason found her eyes, underneath the anger he found hurt, “I’m sorry. Angelique was wrong to treat you that way.”
“What way? I’m the help after all. That was made perfectly clear.”
“Mia, don’t be ridiculous. You’re much more than the help. You should know that.”
“Actually, I don’t. Besides the fact that you screwed me and took my suggestions on the renovations, I’m nothing more than your care taker.”
Jason stood, his stance threatening, but Mia was ready for a fight. “What the hell do you want me to do? I can’t the help the way you make me feel, I can’t help the fact that you’re attracted to me and least of all I can’t help the fact that I want to fuck you right now.”
Mia’s jaw fell open, shocked at his honesty and crudeness. She felt heat build low in her belly. “Don’t even think about it, you’ve had your turn at the fair, well guess what? The fairgrounds have moved on.”
“Bullshit, you were only flirting with that pool boy to make me jealous.” His manhood hardened, his pulse quickened, how was it possible that even fighting with Mia turned him on? The thought of Mia sharing her body with another man angered him. Even though he wasn’t her first, it was as good as. He was the first man to watch her come, to see her tremble and to see her glow afterwards. The thought of another man having that privilege felt like someone had just stabbed him with a blunt knife.
“That pool boy isn’t engaged, and besides he doesn’t come with baggage!” Mia spit back, refusing to back down. She had waited all weekend to say her piece.
“Baggage? What baggage?” Jason asked, momentarily confused.
“Oh, let’s see…” Mia held up her thumb, “a fiancée for starters.” She held up her forefinger, “An empire in San Francisco, want me to keep counting?”
Their eyes met over the table. Mia’s burning with rage, Jason’s fired by desire. He tried to fathom how she saw his business as baggage, but his desire for her made all rational thoughts disappear.
“No,” Jason said as he walked around the table, “I think we’ve talked enough for one night.”
There were no soft touches, no slow movements. Jason yanked her to him, crushing her mouth with his, pulling her body against his. She tasted of wine and temper, her tongue meeting his thrust for thrust, her mouth taking all he had to give. His one hand moved into her hair as the other trailed down her back. He slowly reversed his hand making sure he had felt right. She wasn’t wearing any underwear.
Mia felt the urgency in his touch, sensed tension simmering below the surface. She wanted to fight him, to protect her heart, but couldn’t let him go. His touch intoxicated her, set her body on fire with desire. Still planning to fight, she found herself giving in.
Her desire for him angered her; his desire for her weakened him. All doubts and unsaid words and apologies floated out through the open terrace doors.
Chapter 11
He told himself to take it slow, to cherish every moment, every taste, every touch and yet his hunger for her took over. Passion and raw instinct drove him. He crushed her body against his, moving back with her towards the chair. As his legs felt the chair behind him, he sat down, pulling her onto his lap. Her legs encircled him, her scent surrounded him. He slid his hand into her hair, angling her mouth for better access. She was like a drug he had become addicted to unknowingly. Her taste bewitched him, her scent intoxicated him. The more he supped at her mouth the more drunk he became. He had wanted to apologize, instead he found himself wanting to give her more. More of himself. A feeling as foreign to him as it was to her. He had wanted to exorcise her from his system, but the more he touched the more he needed. He became aware of a new sensation, a feeling he didn’t know. A need he couldn’t explain, if he tried it would be simple. He needed to own her, to satisfy her, to have Mia offer herself to him.
Mia had promised herself this wouldn’t happen, that she wouldn’t fall prey to her own need, but how was she supposed to think when his hands were everywhere, his mouth possessing her, his manhood reaching for her. All these years she had waited. For something. She wasn’t even sure what it was, but she could have never imagined it would be this mind-blowing, all-consuming passion. She pulled his shirt up and lifted it over his head, already missing him when his mouth separated from hers. She allowed her hands to explore. His soft skin and taut muscles played tricks with her mind. Tricks that made her wish for forever. That wanted her to give herself to him. In the back of her mind she heard Alana’s words: you could make him fall in love with you. Mia knew it was a long shot, but the only one she had, since she had already fallen in love with him. She offered her body and her soul to him freely. She had a lot of male friends, and had always been part of the group. Comfortable, content, safe. But she had never known a man that weakened her knees with a single touch. That sen
t her pulse racing with a look, which made her want to lose herself in him. One that excited her, needed her, one that had become part of her in such a short time.
Jason felt the ache start to throb between his thighs, the jeans were constraining, he wanted more. He felt her heat pressing down on him. He pushed aside the flimsy fabric of her material and took her nipple in his mouth. Suckling, teasing, nipping. His other hand slid under the dress finding her damp and swollen. He teased the hard nub with his thumb, hearing her catch her breath. As he felt the first crest building, he suckled her breast harder, and felt her shudder. The shudders continued as he relentlessly teased with his finger.
“Jason,” her voice was breathy with passion.
Knowing he couldn’t and didn’t want to wait longer, he reached around her for the tablecloth and yanked it aside. Crystal, Noritake and the finely prepared dinner clattered to the floor. He found her eyes filled with amusement, “You didn’t like dinner?”
His grin was cocky as he reached for her hips. “I found something I like a whole lot more.”
He picked her up and set her on the edge of the table, spreading her legs. He sank down on his knees in front of her. The sight of her made his heart race. She was swollen and perfect. Without preamble or soft touches, he crushed his mouth against her core and smiled, self-satisfied, when she let out her first moan.
Mia was lost. Lost in sensation, lost in the moment, lost in Jason. She looked down at the wanton sight she made. Sitting spread eagled on the dining room table, with Jason between her thighs, she had never seen anything hotter. She let out a soft laugh, never having thought passion could be so all consuming, so much fun, when Jason plunged two fingers into her. Her laugh was replaced with a moan. Weakening from his touch, from his relentless fingers and his demanding tongue, Mia laid back on the table. She held onto the sides, afraid of sliding off, needing something to keep her from falling into the abyss with him. She felt his other hand run up her torso under dress, and was glad for the forethought not to wear underwear. Her intentions were simple, the dress didn’t allow for it. The fabric clung to her body showing every dip and rise, and for that reason she had never worn underwear with it. As his hand reached for her breast, she felt the ache start to build again. This time it was faster, she couldn’t help but write under his mouth, under his hands. His tongue flicked, his fingers plunged. As she reached the crest, she called out his name. He stroked her legs until the last quiver subsided, before standing up.
Wanting more, wanting him inside her, wanting to satisfy him as he did her, Mia sat up and briskly disposed of the dress. It floated to the floor joining the cutlery, crockery and shattered crystal. Their eyes met in haze of passion, lids heavy with desire. She reached for him, but he stood back, knowing one touch would be one touch too many. He unfastened his jeans and kicked them off along with socks and shoes. She opened her arms as she shimmied back on the table. In an easy move Jason was on the table with her. She had closed her legs, the breeze was cold on her overheated centre, Jason probed them open with his knees unforgiving. He lowered himself onto her, crushing her mouth with his own, finding solace there. Mia groaned as she felt him tease her entrance. Taking control, she gripped his hips hard to keep him in place as she bucked. He filled her instantly. Steel against velvet.
“Mia,” he whispered close to her ear, “don’t move.” He said between clenched teeth.
Mia giggled, feeling loved and in-control.
Jason felt her muscles contract around him with her laugh, knowing he wasn’t going last long with her giggling. He bit down on her bottom lip as he plunged again.
Mia gasped at the steady rhythm he set. Her control was lost. She succumbed to his needs, as her own climbed the second wave. She met him thrust for thrust as he touched her deep where her nerve endings stood in anticipation. The air was tinged with sweat, sex and them. A scent she would never forget.
Jason knew he should go slower, he might hurt her. She had only made love twice counting him, and being rough wouldn’t be a good idea. She’d hate him in the morning. But she urged him on. If he halted she bucked.
Feeling his reticence, feeling his muscles tremble with restraint, Mia took his face in her hands.
“Let go, Jason, I can take it.” She smiled sultry at him, hoping he understood she wanted his raw passion unleashed. She wanted to see him lose control.
“Fuck you’re sexy, especially naked on my dining room table.” His voice was hoarse from raw lust.
When Mia giggled, and he felt her muscles contract, he plunged. A frantic rhythm consumed him, wanting more, taking more.
Mia watched him. His eyes were focused on her. She felt her peak coming closer, when Jason stilled inside her and she felt him ride his orgasm, watching the relief and satisfaction in his eyes, sent her over the peak into a world where everything was possible. A world where Jason was hers and she didn’t have to worry about making him fall in love with her, a world where he already was.
When their breathing had calmed, and the quivers had stopped, Jason gently brushed her hair from her forehead. “Is there anything left to eat?”
Mia laughed, “Now you’re hungry?”
“Of course, satisfying you is a hungry job.”
“I’m sure there something left.” Mia turned her head to look at the mess on the floor. “How about we eat in the kitchen?”
Jason wriggled his brows, his weight still deliciously settled on top of her. “I’ve always thought my room has the perfect view for dinner in bed.”
“If you cook like this when you’re mad, I’ll have to keep it in mind.” Jason said as he finished off the last scrap of food on the plate.”
“Don’t. I don’t like being mad.”
Something passed between them, unsaid words that lingered in the air. He would leave, she would get hurt, and she would be mad. Instead Jason picked up the ripe strawberries from the bedside cabinet and bit into one. “This was a good idea. They’re almost as sweet as you.”
Mia leaned over Jason and grabbed a strawberry for him. They hadn’t bothered getting dressed yet. Her sensitized nipples teased against his flesh. “Jason, I am a woman of many talents, but I am not sweet.”
“Of course you are.” Jason nuzzled her neck. “Here.” He trailed his damp kissed over her chest stopping by her left breast, “and here…” Soon Mia forgot what she had argued about in the first place.
The rest of the night was spent in passion. Sometimes it was slow, sometimes it was frantic, but every single time she reveled in his touch, in his soft words. Deep down she knew they were words said in lust, and probably didn’t amount to much, but for one night she allowed herself to believe them. To cherish them.
When dawn broke, Mia slowly fought through the hazy sleep to wakefulness. She felt Jason curled around her, spooning, His one hand on her hip and his other beneath her head. Even in sleep they had sought each other out. Hanging on like there was not tomorrow. She turned around to face him, and nuzzled her face in his chest before drifting back to sleep again.
Mia woke up a few hours later to the electronic sound of a ring or a chime. Doo-doo-ding. She noticed from the light streaming through the window it was already mid morning. Her hand instinctively seeked Jason only to find the sheets cold. He was up. Doo-doo-ding. What was that sound? Mia rubbed the sleep from her eyes searching for a phone or anything that would explain the insistent ringing. Where was Jason? She sat up and looked around, when her eyes settled on the source of the ringing. Doo-doo-ding. Jason’s laptop stood open on the dresser, facing her way. There was incoming video call with Angelique’s face. Instantly awake, a waterfall of feelings rushed through her. Shame, regret, embarrassment, indignity, she tried to push them aside but only found anger as well. She did the first thing any woman in her situation would do: she jumped off the bed on the other side hiding on the floor from the laptop. Somewhere in her mind she knew the camera wouldn’t be turned on until it was answered, but at that moment the only thought she had was that
she was naked in an engaged man’s bedroom. She crawled along the bed, and eyed the distance to the door. Pulling the sheet off the bed, she awkwardly dragged it over her naked body before crawling to the door. By the time she had reached it, the laptop pinged again, Doo-doo-ding. She straightened herself, furious with the situation she entangled herself in and marched down the stairs. Holding the sheet bunched in front of her she found Jason in the kitchen.
“Good morning sleeping beauty,” Jason crooned as he spotted her.
Mia didn’t notice the vase with handpicked flowers on the table, or the bacon frying in the pan, or the freshly squeezed orange juice. She bore her eyes into his. “Your fiancée’s calling.”
Jason looked at her with widened eyes and an apologetic expression, “Mia,”
“Don’t, Jason, just don’t.” She shook her head and closed her eyes. She didn’t want to hear more excuses. She was a grown woman and had made the decision to sleep with him herself. She could’ve walked out at any moment last night, instead she wanted him to touch her, she wanted to feel him against her, inside her. Chastising herself for staying in the house, she bit down hard on her lip until she tasted the pungent metallic taste of blood. She heard Jason’s footsteps pass by her on his way up to the bedroom. He whispered, “I’m sorry,” before disappearing around the corner. Letting out a deep breath, her stomach growled at the smells coming from the kitchen. She walked closer to see what he had made. Her heart nearly broke. He had picked flowers from the garden and set them on a tea tray. There was bacon frying in a pan, two perfectly fried eggs, fried tomatoes and even mushrooms. He had fashioned a fruit salad from cut fruit and had freshly squeezed orange juice just for her. He was planning on bringing her breakfast in bed. She felt her throat thicken with emotion but swiftly swallowed it down. She wasn’t going to cry again. She walked into the dining room, and felt her thighs protest. She was sore from all their love making, muscles she didn’t know existed ached with every move she made. Jason had already cleaned up the dining room, grateful that she didn’t have to deal with anything that reminded her further of last night, her eyes fell on the table. Her pulse raced at the memory of what they had shared. She squared her shoulders and headed for her cottage, knowing she had only one option if she was going to attempt to protect herself at all.
