by Jen Talty
She leaned into him, holding him tighter. His tender hands glided down her back before cupping her ass. Every part of her body welcomed him in ways she’d never experienced.
The camera.
Her body stiffened, and she ended the kiss.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Would you like some wine?”
“You seem more like the beer type.”
“I am, but sometimes, in the presence of a beautiful lady, a nice glass of red is necessary.”
“I think you’re trying to seduce me.” She let him lead her to the table on the small terrace, overlooking the lake with a sky full of bright stars. Blues music from the band playing at the restaurant added to the ambiance.
“Am I succeeding?” He pulled back a chair.
“I’ll let you know in a little while if it’s working.”
He groaned as he poured two glasses of wine, then sat across from her, his blond hair catching the light from the half moon. “Cheers.”
“What are we toasting to?” she asked, holding up her glass and swallowing the horrible taste of betrayal.
“To new friends.”
She clinked his glass then took a swig of the full-bodied red. It burned a little going down. Getting tipsy might be the only way she could follow through with this plan.
“Excuse me.” He pulled out his phone. “Dinner is here.”
“You ordered out?”
“Trust me, you don’t want to eat my cooking.”
She sat alone for a few minutes, checking that her phone’s secret camera still worked. This wasn’t only going to hurt Josh. She could lose her job, and would have to live with the shame for the rest of her life.
But her brother would be alive.
“I ordered two dishes,” Josh said as he reappeared on the patio. “We can either split, or you can have the one you like better.”
“What are my options?”
“Blackened salmon over fresh greens, or filet mignon, with sour cream and chive mashed potatoes and fresh vegetables.”
“Oh, we’re sharing both.” Her taste buds went into a frenzy. She couldn’t afford meals like this at home.
“Thank God,” he said. “I was an ass and ordered my two favorites.”
“I’m a surf-and-turf kind of gal. Had you ordered lobster, I might have had a food orgasm before the first bite.”
“I know where I’m taking you tomorrow night, then.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “You might have topped yesterday’s date, but this, with the stars, the moon, and the music from below, will be impossible to top.”
“By tomorrow morning, it won’t matter.”
“You’re confident,” she said, inhaling the mix of vegetables, seafood, and beef as she began to separate the dishes.
“Don’t split up the meals.”
“I thought we were sharing.” She glanced at him, catching his lust-filled eyes.
“I want to feed you.” He sliced through a thick piece of meat that was perfectly pinkish-red in the middle. “Open your mouth.”
“I can’t believe you’re not married yet.” She drew the succulent piece of steak into her mouth. “Oh, my,” she said. “Is this from downstairs?”
“No.” His voice turned deep and throaty. “My turn.”
The salmon flaked apart as she stabbed a chunk onto her fork, taking some of the mixed salad greens with it. Her hand trembled as she laid the pink fish on his tongue.
Taking another stab at the fish, she tasted it herself. “Wow. Tastes fresh, too.”
“I got it at a place called Dante’s. You pass it just as you come out of the village.” He scooped up some mashed potatoes. “Open,” he whispered.
Locked in an intense gaze, they continued to feed each other small bites, but all she wanted was for him to nibble on her neck. She reached across the table, stabbing her fork into the steak.
He grabbed her wrist and groaned. “We need to feed ourselves.”
“Huh?” She blinked a few times.
“I’m mostly a gentleman, but if we don’t stop this now, I’m going to hoist you on the table and—”
“Oh. I see.” She swallowed as her gaze shifted to her phone. No way would she be able to find a way to turn it on now.
“I don’t think you do,” he said in deep, throaty voice. He pushed a few pieces of his meat onto the plate in front of her. “Let me wine and dine you.”
“I am hungry.” A nervous laugh trickled from her lips. She gripped the fork and knife as she put half her meal on his plate, and he did the same. Long moments of silence followed as they ate and sipped wine, listening to the soft jazz mixed with the sounds of conversation from the people below. “If you don’t mind me asking, what does an apartment like this go for?”
“About a quarter of what you’d pay for a shoebox in New York City,” he said, shoving his plate aside and leaning back in his chair.
“That’s impossible.”
He topped off their glasses, finishing the bottle of wine. “Cost of living here is different from the city. Besides, they like having a cop above the restaurant, so I got a little bit of a break. Every once in a while, I end up having to go down and break up a fight.”
“Their own personal bodyguard.”
“Something like that,” he said. “I have chocolate cake and ice cream in the kitchen.”
“I don’t think I could eat another bite. Maybe for breakfast,” she said, immediately grateful she’d agreed to a second glass of wine.
“Does that mean you plan on staying?” His fingers danced across her thigh like a feather, easing under her skirt.
“I shouldn’t,” she whispered, uncrossing her legs.
“But you want to.” His hot breath in her ear made her shiver. His hand eased to the crevice between her thighs and the very thing that made her a sexual woman. Her legs parted involuntarily, and he obviously took that as an invitation, palming her. He sucked on her earlobe.
“The people down below,” she said, wondering if her whisper would reach his ears.
“They can’t see up here.” He nibbled on the side of her neck while he glided his finger across her panties, over her throbbing nub, sending pulses to her nipples, tightening them in a painful desire, begging to be touched. He must have sensed her need because his other hand landed on her breast, toying with her nipple through the thin fabric. “No bra again,” he whispered.
“It’s a shelf bra,” she panted out, wondering why she didn’t feel as though she were completely exposed and vulnerable. No one had ever touched her like this before. Most weren’t allowed until she was ready, which was rare because no one had made her feel like this, like she was the most important person ever.
He slid her panties aside as his forefinger glided gently inside her, stroking. “Oh…Josh…maybe we should…”
“Shhhh,” he whispered, his finger gliding in and out, his thumb rubbing her where she throbbed the most. “Let me please you here. Like this.”
Dropping her head back, she slid down a little in the chair, her arms stretched up over his neck, fingers digging into his rock-solid muscles as she caved to his sweet strokes, feeling every possible erotic sensation a couple of fingers could give, though she had no comparison since no man had ever made her want to come so badly.
“Do you like this?” His soft, smooth voice nearly brought her to climax.
“Yes,” she croaked out, sinking her teeth into on her lower lip, gripping the seat, her hips moving in unison with his rhythm, with the echo of the music. She’d never had an orgasm at the hands of a man, only in the privacy of her own bed, alone, and even that wasn’t all that it had been cracked up to be.
“Look at me,” he said.
She blinked a few times, unable to gain her focus as she stared at the star-speckled sky. A high-pitched groan came with every exhale of her breath. She hadn’t had many lovers over the years. She was looking for the right man to share her life with. Someone s
he could trust. Love. And someone that would be this intent on pleasing her before himself.
That was a hard man to find, and most of the guys she dated dumped her because they didn’t want to wait for her to feel comfortable with them before starting a sexual relationship.
And then there was Kirk. The mere thought of him made her want to stop. She lowered her chin and opened her mouth to tell Josh she couldn’t do this.
“Open your eyes, Delaney,” he whispered.
She did, gasping. With their foreheads pressed together and their gazes locked, he’d given her the control. Kneading her fingers into his neck, she rolled her hips. His palm rubbed against her intimately, yet he barely moved his hand.
“Oh…my…God,” she managed as her climax rippled to the surface, rocking her slowly at first until it gripped her with force, her stomach quivering over and over again. “I… I…” She blinked, her pulse not slowing down. Her lungs burned. “Excuse me.” She bolted from the chair, knocking it over, before heading down the makeshift stairs in search of a bathroom.
“Delaney!”
She heard him shout her name, his tone questioning and concerned, but she couldn’t face him. Slamming the bathroom door, she turned on the faucet, splashing her flushed face with cool water.
* * *
Josh paced in front of the picture window in the family room, the only light from the restaurant below and the faint glow of the moon. The night had gotten totally out of control. Giving her pleasure on the patio hadn’t been part of the plan to take her to dinner. Entertain her. Maybe steal few kisses, then walk her home, being the gentlemen he could be. Around her, all he could think about was burying himself deep inside her.
He stared out the picture window. Ten minutes had passed, and not a single noise from the bathroom. Well, he couldn’t let her stay in there all night.
“Delaney?” He tapped on the door. “Are you okay?” He held his breath, waiting for an answer.
“Yes.” Her reply was barely audible.
“Do you need anything?” What the hell kind of a question was that? “Come out and talk to me. Please?”
The doorknob turned slowly before she pushed the door open, her gaze to the floor.
“Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head.
“What happened then?” Tentatively, he reached out, tilting her chin. Thankfully, she looked at him.
“I’m really not this kind of girl. I don’t go home with men I just met.”
“I know that.” He lifted her hands, placing them on his shoulders. “But that can’t be what upset you.”
“I’ve never experienced anything like what we just did,” she stammered. “That’s never happened to me.”
He swallowed. “Let’s go sit.” He motioned to the sofa. “Can I get you another glass of wine?”
“Yes, please.”
A million things ran through his mind as he uncorked another bottle, but mostly, he thought about how Delaney had no idea how erotic and sensual she was. Nor did she comprehend the power she had over a man.
He handed her the glass of wine as he eased into the seat next to her on the sofa, sipping his and wondering what happened. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” she said. “I’m sorry. I feel a bit foolish for behaving the way I did after you...what...”
Her inability to discuss what happened on the rooftop made Josh wonder what kind of men Delaney had been with in the past. “Why do you feel foolish?”
“I’d rather not say,” she whispered, her arms wrapped tightly around her middle.
He took a chance, acting on his intuition, and asked, “Has a man never given you an orgasm before?”
“I’ve had a few serious relationships,” she said.
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
She chewed on her lower lip. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“So, that’s the first time someone other than yourself has brought you to climax.”
She turned her head, catching his gaze with narrowed eyes. “How is that you make this seem like daily normal conversation?”
“It’s not abnormal,” he said, wondering if any man had ever treated her right on any level. “I want to understand why having pleasure made you so distraught you had to run away.”
“You’re like no one I’ve met before,” she whispered. “I’ve come close a few times, but it never happens for me, so you giving me one stunned me.”
“What did your past boyfriends do to help you get there?”
She laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I don’t joke about treating a lady well, whether it’s at dinner or in bed.”
She sipped her wine, shifting on the sofa.
His sadness turned to anger when he realized that the men in her life had so little consideration for her pleasure that they took their own and left her unfulfilled.
“My last boyfriend, Kirk—we dated for a year, but it was rocky from the start, and his frustration over my inability to—well, you know—didn’t help.”
“Why was the relationship difficult from the beginning?” While Josh wanted to understand why she’d run away from him, he hadn’t intended on digging into her personal life. If he were thinking clearly, he would walk her back to the hotel and leave it at that.
“For starters, he didn’t like my rules for dating.”
“What kind of rules?” He looped his arm over her shoulder, feeling the heat from her supple skin. The desire to worship her mind and body like a temple made him ignore that tickle in his brain telling him to keep her at a safe distance. She was the kind of woman he could fall for, hard and fast.
“Not really rules. More like generalities, such as taking it slow when it comes to sex,” she said. “So, this really isn’t me. I don’t have sex with someone until I’ve gotten to know them. Kirk called it vetting.”
“Nothing wrong with wanting to know anyone you decide to share a bed with.”
“Well, he argued that since I’d met him years earlier when he worked with my father, I was being difficult. He would get angry with me. He told me my standards were impossible and then called me frigid.”
“He’s a selfish prick and an asshole,” Josh said, setting his glass on the coffee table, red wine sloshing out of the top. “He’s not good enough for you. You should never settle for anything less than what you really want.” He palmed her cheek. “So, tell me, what do you really want?”
“I want you,” she said. The tremble in her hand when he laced his fingers through hers told a different story, and her soft blue eyes gave away her fear. Or reluctance.
“I want you, too.” He traced her lips with his forefinger. “But you’re hesitant, and I don’t want to be with you when you’re not sure about being with me.”
“You’re not sure, either.” She tilted her head, molding her lips against his in a hot entanglement, one he let go on far too long as he found himself groaning before separating their mouths.
“I’m sure I could have sex with you and do everything I could to make sure you had another orgasm,” he said. “That’s not the issue.” He kept telling himself this was some kind of test. Vetting, like she’d said. A way to find out if this was a chance meeting of two people attracted to each other, or some dark, deadly payback game Craypo was playing.
“What is the issue, then?”
“Relationships. I’m not interested in anything other than physical, no matter how much I like you. So, while you’re here, visiting, we can have sex if you want. Or just hang out. I do like spending time with you and don’t need sex, but that’s all I can give you.” Talk about feeding someone a line of crap laced with nibbles of truth. “You did say you’re only here for two weeks, right?”
“More like ten days,” she whispered. “I’ve never had an affair, a one-night stand, a hook-up, or whatever it’s called these days. I’ve only had relationships, and most of them sucked, and so did the sex. What happened on the rooftop didn’t su
ck.”
He chuckled. “I’m glad to hear to that. But not all your sexual experiences sucked, even if you couldn’t come, did they?”
“Not being able to get there pretty much sucks,” she said.
“We don’t have to do anything. Watching you orgasm is just as good as sex. I’m already satisfied. We can watch a movie. Go for a walk. You can go home. Whatever you want.”
“You’re not normal,” she whispered. “And I mean that in a good way.”
“What do you want from me? Tell me.”
“I want to have something where there are no strings. No dating rules. No trying to figure each other out with regard to the future. Something that isn’t based on emotion, but pure passion. Desire. A raw kind of shameless, sexual encounter.”
“That, I can give you,” he said, wondering if he’d lost his mind. Never sleep with the suspect. Or someone you suspect isn’t who they say they are. Those were his dating rules, yet he was going to have her tonight. “What happens in Lake George, stays in Lake George.”
“And you won’t think me a slut?”
“Never.” He pulled her to a standing position. “Tell me something.”
“What?”
“These idiot men you’ve dated.” He unbuttoned the top of her skirt, gently rolling down the zipper. “The ones too stupid to know a real woman when she’s standing in front of them.” Reaching his hands under her shirt, he found what she referred to as a shelf bra, then lifted it over her perfect, small, round breasts before raising the shirt over her head and tossing it to the floor. Her skin glowed in the light filtering through the window. She watched him with a heated gaze in those lake-blue eyes. “Did they ever ask what you liked? Or wanted?”
“No,” she said.
He slipped her skirt over her hips, then let it drop to the floor, Her tiny thong barely covered her.
She didn’t say a word, just stood there, her breathing coming in short pants. Her nipples puckered.
“Tell me what you want.”
“I want you.” She reached for him, but he grabbed her wrist. “I want to touch you,” she said.
“This isn’t about me.” His control began to unravel. He wanted to bend her over the chair in front of the window and watch their reflection, mixed with the stars, as he brought her to new heights of pleasure. “Do you want this?” He cupped her breast, fanning his thumb over her nipple, barely touching it. Her back arched, and she bit down on her lower lip. “Or this?” He squeezed and twisted her nipple and watched her eyelids flutter shut as her head rolled to the side. “How about this?” He sucked her nipple into his mouth, his other hand pinching and twisting harder as her moans grew louder and throatier. She clutched his head, running her fingers through his hair.
