“We’re nearly at my house. I’m at the end of the court, the white house.”
“Oh, it’s lovely.”
It was. And unexpected. A cottage with a small porch out front, lavender along the low picket fence. One tall tree, maybe an oak, stood proud in the garden. It was a proper home, no bachelor pad or flat, not a temporary stop-gap place to lay his head. A few pieces of the puzzle named Christos clicked into place in my mind.
He stared ahead as he spoke in a low tone, hard to hear under the rumble of the engine. But I was all ears. “I’m glad you like it, Lily. I bought it a few years back and I’ve renovated it from the foundations up. But not to sell. I want to live here for a long time.”
I nodded, pressing my lips together. This was a serious man. A keeper, at least potentially. And didn’t it make my home fires burn? My belly tightened and my lady parts tingled like they were effervescent.
Who knew responsible home ownership and gardening skills could be such a turn on? I certainly didn’t until then.
We pulled up into the paved driveway beside the cottage. As he put the car into neutral and pulled the hand brake, Christos shrugged, his head lowered. He ran his hands through his hair, as if he didn’t know what to do with them. “I can take you home anytime you like. No pressure. But I like you. I want you.”
Oh, hubba hubba. Serious and considerate. What a combination.
I leaned across and placed my hand on his arm. The warmth of his skin under my hand was addictive. I wanted more. “I like you too. You know, it could be a case of hero worship. You’re a dead-set spunk, Christos Cyriakos.”
His laughter shook my fingertips and vibrated through me.
I smiled as I spoke. “Let’s go in. Maybe you can give me the grand tour.”
Of your bedroom...
Did I say that out loud? No reaction from Christos. Phew. I didn’t want him to think I was a raging sex-starved maniac. At least not yet.
Christos opened the car door for me again and I fluttered all over like a beautiful butterfly spreading her wings. This was rather odd, because no man had ever made me feel like a beautiful butterfly.
He held my hand and I exhaled, forcing breath in and out of my lungs. I did not need to pass out. He’d already teased me once about falling at his feet. While I liked a good teasing, I was hoping for foreplay leading to a foregone conclusion.
The rain wasn’t as heavy, but a steady pitter-patter hit the paving and sprinkled me in crystalline droplets. It was still warm, still mild. I shook my head to let the rain fall from the loose strands of hair around my face.
Christos raised his right hand and ever-so-gently pushed a tendril of damp hair behind my ear, whispering a touch across my cheekbone. I gasped, the sound muffled by the press of his mouth over mine. But it was over too soon.
I straightened up, shook my head to dislodge the cloudy sex haze, then remembered we were still outside.
We walked hand-in-hand to his front door. He unlocked it with a bunch of keys tinkling in his hand. No other sound awaited us. No rock-star uncles and entourage, no guitars or drum beat. Only the sound of silence. Blissful.
Christos flicked on a couple of lights and the hallway illuminated, gleaming polished oak floorboards and Turkish rugs making a homey first impression. He gestured me to go first through a set of double doors, into the lounge room. Dark wood furniture and a soft-looking suede sofa in light grey awaited.
It was comfortable, clean, organised, but still personal. There was a certificate from the police academy on the mantelpiece above the modern fireplace. A whole wall of photos of smiling dark-haired people dominated the room.
“Do you live all alone?” I waved in the general direction of the photos in their black frames.
Christos smiled in a lopsided way. “Yeah, but I have a large family. Mum and Dad, Grandma. Then there’s my three sisters, lots of cousins, nieces and nephews, uncles and aunts. The whole Greek catastrophe.”
“Three sisters?”
“Oh, yeah. Two big, one little. They’re a handful, but I love them.”
“I think it’s nice.”
I was jealous, to own the truth. Wishing for my own large family one day wasn’t being too weird, was it? I only had Uncle Bill and KC left in the whole world. A pang of fierce longing struck me around the middle. I missed KC. Hopefully she’d come and see me soon, once I could afford a plane ticket for her. And I missed Dad, although thinking about him didn’t help keep me in the happy, sexytime mood.
“Sit. Relax.” Christos sat at one end of his two-seater sofa and I sat at the other end. “Do you want a drink?”
I declined, and sat awkwardly upright. Could I simply shuffle a smidge towards him later? Sooner rather than later. I sat on my hands in case they wandered.
When I chanced a look at Christos, he was fighting off one of his bright smiles. Like he didn’t want to admit he knew what I was up to, but possibly he was having similar thoughts. His arm snaked around my shoulders and pulled me towards him, almost with a mind of its own.
“That’s better.” Christos stroked my shoulder lightly with the tips of his fingers and I swear a tingly sensation hit all sorts of other nerves throughout my body. “Are you feeling better now? You were sad before, when your uncle started playing the Led Zep song.”
Ah. He wanted to talk. I squirmed under his gaze, which was heavy on my skin. He was barely touching me, but I felt it. “It was just weird. My dad passed away two years ago and it used to be his band. He played the song all the time when I was a kid.”
Christos squeezed my shoulder. “I’m sorry about your father. Was it a long illness?”
“Oh no, it was an accident. He was riding his motorbike, then there was a truck. A collision, you know.” My voice was too tight, too strained. I sounded like a woman on the verge of a breakdown. I only hoped it wasn’t true. I’d dealt with all this stuff already, hadn’t I? I gritted my teeth.
“Shit, sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” He held me tighter, rubbing his hand up and down my arm. It should have been soothing. But I was nervy.
I couldn’t hide the way my hands shook where they now lay on my lap. “He’d been out playing a gig across town. In the morning he wasn’t there. I thought he’d got up early for the day job. He was a builder too. But then I got all the messages on my phone.”
Christos clenched his jaw tight before he ground out one word. “Police?”
“Yes. Then someone from the hospital asking me to come immediately. I had to wake KC and take her with me. To see Dad. To bring him home. When I got there it was an hour too late.”
This time, Christos pulled me against his body so my head rested in the crook of his neck. I breathed him in, all the delicious spicy layers of him.
I closed my eyes for a second or two, willing the nightmare images to fly far away. I didn’t need to remember right now.
I sighed. “Is it okay if we don’t talk anymore? What I really want, what I need...is more of this.” I trailed my index finger up his body from his chest, to his throat, all the way to his mouth. I touched his lips lightly, like I’d asked him to keep a secret.
He shuddered, his breath escaping, brushing my fingers. Lips so surprisingly soft. Raising my head, I kissed a path along the shadow of his jawline, coming to rest on his chin. One more butterfly-like kiss and I pressed my mouth against his.
Then we came together in an almighty crash, like we were on a collision course. His lips pressed down upon mine. The intensity, the taste of him, almost overwhelming. A groan of satisfaction, or frustration, rose from Christos’s chest.
My head was spinning, the heady scent of him now surrounding me, amber and cardamom spice teasing me. I opened my lips for him, inviting him to kiss me deeper.
I tilted my head, wrapping my hands around the back of his neck. His tongue met mine. Body pressed flush against the length of mine. I gasped, the feel of him so good, so perfect. My legs parted, dress hiked up almost to my hips as his hand caressed my thigh. H
is hardness pressed to my softness. A lot of hardness.
What had I been thinking about clothes? Yes. They needed to come off.
I reached for the buttons of Christos’s shirt, but I didn’t get further than the first one. I didn’t want to stop kissing him. Fingers fumbling, I found myself caressing the V of his exposed skin, stroking the thick thatch of chest hair.
One button popped out of its little slot. Only about five to go. I know I moaned into his mouth, because he broke away with a nip on my lower lip. A corresponding tug reached my lower belly, the spot between my thighs, the dull thud of my pulse more insistent.
“Here, let me help.” Christos took over unbuttoning, guiding my hands. Then he pressed my palms to the planes of his stomach as the fabric of his shirt fell aside.
“Oooooofff!” I commanded, and Christos answered with a low chuckle.
He leaned back over the arm of his sofa and somehow wrenched himself free from his shirt. Then he was gloriously naked. Half naked. Whatever. I stared, I’m not ashamed to admit it.
The size and scale of Christos, in the flesh, was stupefying. He hadn’t seemed so muscular, so built, in a tailored suit, though I knew the strength was there. His olive skin went on for miles, the jet black happy trail of hair becoming finer down the centre of his body, between rows of highly defined abs the likes of which I’d never seen in real life.
“Now, you. Turn around.” He used a gravelly voice I’d heard once before. The one which liquified my knickers.
I couldn’t help the momentary loss of my faculties. My breath came in shallow pants, making my breasts rise and fall. I knew his eyes were on me, his slow perusal taking in my cleavage, my dress having been pushed down a good way. The outline of my hard nipples was hard to miss, the points pressing against the fabric of my dress. His inspection heated every inch of my skin.
I turned as he’d asked, my back to him, tossing the loose strands of my destroyed hairdo over my right shoulder. I’d started shaking, and my fingers were useless, the zipper at the back of my dress was defeating me. How the hell had I ever got the thing on?
Christos gripped the tag of my zipper, pulling it downwards, slower than I would’ve expected. Then heat, the soft contact, his lips on my skin. He kissed his way down my spine one vertebra at a time, the muffled zzzzz sound of the zip descending, the only sound.
When he came to my waist, he paused and unhooked my bra, letting his hands wander around my body, cupping my full breasts in his palms over the lace cups. My breath gushed from my lungs. All I could think was: more.
A moment later, the fabric of my dress fell from my shoulders, Christos ran his palms over my bare shoulders. My bra straps followed. My back was still facing him. I longed to turn around, but I shied away.
He was quiet. Too quiet.
Not every man appreciated a woman with curves on her bones. What if I wasn’t his cup of tea? Not his particular brand of perfume? I pressed my lips together. I had to know.
I twisted my head to the left, glancing over my shoulder. What I saw in Christos’s face was not distaste or disinterest. It was blatant hunger. His eyes had darkened and they glittered under the golden lighting overhead. He sat back from me, resting one arm across the back of the sofa. His breathing was harsher, loud now in the quiet room.
Thank God. He wanted me.
“Lily...” He sighed, reaching for me. He took hold of my shoulders and gently urged me to face him. “I knew you’d be beautiful. I just didn’t know how stunning.”
I let my dress drop down further, the strapless bra following, then inched my arms out of the fabric until it pooled around my waist.
Christos leaned in, then his lips were on me, on my throat, kissing a spot between my clavicles, the indentation there throbbing. I gasped at the intimate contact, the way he pulled me closer to him, holding me firmly by my shoulders. He worked his way down, kissing my chest, the tiny freckles there, down to my breasts.
I watched his movement, his black eyelashes fanning across his cheeks as he lowered his head. I arched my back and gasped with pleasure, as he took one nipple between his lips. He tormented me, sucking my tender flesh into his mouth. He teased my other breast with his fingertips, massaging the underside. He glanced up at me, grinning as he rose up once more, taking my face in his hands.
Our bodies pressed against each other in a long line, Christos on top, me below, stretched out on his sofa. I wrapped my hands around his back and tugged him closer still. And nearly exploded in a ball of flame as his lower body collided with mine. He rocked into me, taking no chance I wouldn’t know what he was packing.
Kisses, licking, tasting, biting, his hands on my body, my hands sliding down his back. This was good, so good, but I need more.
His thoughts must have mirrored mine, because he rose up to sit, taking a moment to catch his breath. His left eyebrow arched. “Do you want to stay? We can move to my bedroom.”
He was giving me an out clause, if I wanted it. I did not. One thing I knew for sure, I wanted Christos as if my life depended on it.
I whispered, though the words seemed to echo in the pause he’d left. “I want you. I want to stay.”
The smile he gifted me made my whole stomach flip, it was so cheeky and self-assured. He had me, and he knew it. His hands were on my breasts, teasing the tips between his fingertips, taunting me until I was a writhing, panting mess.
Only then did he pick me up, one hand under my bottom, the other supporting my back. He. Picked. Me. Up. Then he rose to his feet like I weighed nothing, hoisting me with him in one smooth motion until he was walking, striding really. We were heading for the room at the end of his hallway.
His master bedroom. Where hopefully he would master me.
Hubba hubba.
I kissed his neck, licked it really. He let out a string of muttered expletives. “Bloody hell, Lily, hold on a minute.”
I did hold on tight to his neck, clinging on for dear life, but I wasn’t going easy on the necking. He was too delicious.
There was clunking and stomping, then I looked up to find Christos staring straight ahead at the king-sized bed. It was covered in a downy beige quilt and some dark blue cushions with little birds on them. For something so apparently comfortable, the bed suddenly loomed large and intimidating.
I didn’t want to ruin the moment by being nervous. He wouldn’t reject me. He wasn’t my ex.
But I didn’t have to worry, because Christos lowered me onto the edge of the bed, then dropped to his knees before me. He inched the remains of my dress down over my hips, or rather peeled me like a banana out of its skin.
I wiggled to give him access, and his hands followed the contours of my ample bottom and thighs. If I was self-conscious about my top half, revealing my bottom half gave me pause.
True, I was wearing my sure-fire, confidence-building black silky knickers with peek-a-boo lacy bits. But it was the dimply, less than slender bits of me I was afraid he wouldn’t find appealing.
I needn’t have worried. As I kicked my dress off from one ankle, leaving my shoes on, he made a very gratifying noise. Somewhere between a sigh and a groan, it hit me right between the thighs.
“Lily... Damn, I forgot what I was going to say.” He rubbed his hands over his face, then his gaze connected with mine.
His eyes so deep, so fathomless, I knew I’d get lost in them forever. If I wasn’t careful.
He reached for the drawer of the low bedside table. Rustling around, he pulled a foil packet from inside. Wordless, he kept his hot gaze on me, making me melt further into the bed, jelly-legged as I was.
With a clack of a belt buckle and a super-fast unzipping, his pants were history. Shoes kicked off. Gone. Christos was naked before me as he sheathed himself. He was hard and ready. I swallowed on a parched throat.
I let my gaze roam over his body, drinking him in. I wouldn’t be exaggerating if I said choirs of angels sang and demigods wept at the sight. Not much. I bit my lower lip to stop myself taking
a bite out of him.
I shimmied back onto the bed, pulling the covers down as I went. I patted the spot beside me on the smooth white sheets.
He joined me, rolling me into the middle of the bed. I shivered as he raised himself up on his elbows above me, lower body pinning me down.
Pinning was good. Pinning was winning.
I raised my legs and wrapped them tight around Christos’s back, as he pressed against me, just there, just right. When he finally entered me, he covered my mouth with his, kissing me, smothering the gasp. It shot out of my mouth a second later as he angled his hips. Almost. Then he pressed into me fully...
Oh, hello. Right. There.
I broke our kiss and cried out.
“Holy moly chocolate gumdrops! Christos!” Because really, intelligent word choices are overrated at such a moment.
His shoulders shook with suppressed laughter as he pressed into my body again, his dark chuckle a delight as he took me.
Took me, took me, took me, oh...
I squeezed my legs tighter around the small of his back, rocking my hips.
He kissed down the side of my throat, mumbling sweet nothings all the while. Well, mostly nothings. I think I heard the words, ‘so sexy’, along with dirtier words. Which fired me up like nobody’s business.
My hands made their merry way from his shoulders, down the smooth line of his back, to grip his mighty fine butt. I double-checked it was mighty fine, enjoying the contours beneath my palms. I pulled him closer and Christos responded, angling his hips just so.
I let out a cry of surprise, or shock. A sudden rush of electric joy zapped through all the billions of nerves in my body. My body shuddered, then tensed. The gorgeous man above me tensed too, leaning down to kiss my mouth as I shook with wave after wave of pleasure. Until I was spent. Wrecked. Wrung out.
His movements sped, Christos raised my hips with both his hands, taking me deeper than ever. His ragged shout, my name, was pure joy, as he tensed and then fell in a heap on top of me. A hot, heavy and gorgeous-smelling heap.
Heart Note Page 8
