The Monroe Series Complete Trilogy
Page 18
“Oh, God. You feel so good,” Giselle moans.
“So do you, baby.” So do you.
I flick my tongue across her nipple and suck it into my mouth. She whimpers and writhes against me. “Harder. Please,” she begs in short pants.
She doesn’t need to ask twice. Unable to hold back any longer, I succumb to the anticipation I’ve been holding on to for a year and slam into her. Reaching the end of her, I don’t relent.
“Yes!” she screams while her nails dig into my back. Everything tightens in her body just before she lets go, pulsing around me.
Thrusting into her a few more times, my orgasm rockets through me. I don’t pull out right away, instead enjoying the sweet feel of being inside her. I’m really going to enjoy getting reacquainted with her.
“Wow,” she breathes as she rests her head on my chest.
Kissing the top of her head, I put my arms around her. “You can say that again. I’ve really missed you.”
Her arms come around me. “Me, too.”
“Let’s wash up and we can go downstairs for a drink and catch up,” I suggest.
She looks up at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I thought that’s what we were doing.”
“Oh, we were. And we haven’t even gotten started yet.” I have a year’s worth of things I’ve been dreaming up that I can’t wait to do to her.
She goes up on her tiptoes and presses her lips to mine. “You’re damn right we haven’t.”
I’m so glad we’re on the same page.
Five
Giselle
Everything about spending time with Dean is amazing, but one of my favorite parts is that we're never glued to a clock. We sleep when we want, have sex when we want, eat whatever we feel like it. Oh, and there's always plenty of drinking.
We've only been together a few hours when I wake in his arms as the sun is setting. It has to be around eight o'clock in the evening. I smile as I watch it disappear through the huge wall of windows in the master bedroom.
Dean tightens his hold around my body, rolls me over, and lies on top of me. "What do you want to do tomorrow?” he asks, his voice husky with sleep.
"Hmmm." I run the ideas through my mind. There's so much to do in the area. "Let's go to a winery or two. We need to stock up and I'd love to bring a few bottles home to remember this week by." I let out a contented sigh. Already, I can feel the tension draining from my shoulders. This is exactly what I need, what I crave every year. The halfway point is perfect, I spend half of the year in planning mode and then afterward, I have the other half to remember these special days.
"Sounds perfect." He lays a gentle kiss on my cheek, my jaw, and my lips. "Know what else sounds perfect?" he asks in a low sexy voice.
I can think of so many things, but then my stomach growls.
"Food?"
He laughs. "Definitely food."
He pulls on shorts and I grab his T-shirt from the floor and wear it. The thing barely covers my butt, and I love it like that. I know he'll be looking and I know how to keep him hot and bothered. I figure if we eat, we’ll have a chance at going at it one more time before we collapse for the night. Yeah. I'm insatiable and shameless. I don't do much the rest of the year. Sure, I might hook up at a holiday party or wedding, but it isn't often, and it's been a quiet year for me. Somehow, all my friends seem to be getting married. I can’t even find a guy I want to invest the time in to go out with. The men I have tried to date in the past are always complaining that I’m a workaholic and I’m not around enough. No wonder I treasure my summers so much. All the love, none of the nonsense.
Walking into the kitchen, Dean grabs my ass and kisses my cheek before I go to the refrigerator and pull out the deli meat and cheese.
"Oh my God. You're going to make me a sandwich? You're the best."
I can't help but giggle at the adorable expression on his face. "Anything for you."
He comes up behind me and pushes my hair to the side, laying gentle kisses along my neck and shoulder. Releasing a heavy breath, I tilt my head. Heat spreads through my body with each touch of his lips.
"I thought you wanted to eat," he says, his warm breath tickling my skin.
“I’m starving, but I could be convinced to wait awhile longer.”
"I am, too, but I want to do this while I wait." He goes back to teasing me by nibbling on my ear. My nipples get hard under the thin fabric of his shirt. I love that he knows exactly what to do to turn me on.
I make two ham sandwiches quicker than I’ve ever made one before.
We take our dinner to the living room and we snuggle up close on the couch. My stomach growls before I even take a bite. The last thing I ate today was yogurt at breakfast.
"Tell me, Giselle, how was your year?" Dean takes a giant bite of his sandwich.
I shift my position to face him, cradling one leg underneath me. "It was great. The firm was busy and I got a nice bonus check around the holidays. How was your year?" Gosh, saying it out loud proves to me how boring my life sounds.
He wipes the corner of his mouth with his napkin and sets it down. He begins squeezing the muscles of my calf. "There was lots of snow this season, great conditions on the slopes.” He hesitates but only for a moment. Is he hiding something? “This summer has actually been busy, too."
In the summer he typically doesn't have a steady income, more odd jobs as a handyman. I think it would be hard to live with the unpredictability of that lifestyle. But it seems to suit him just fine. "Glad to hear it," I say. “My brother, Garrett, got married this past weekend. It’s his second marriage. He seems happier this time around. I hope it works out for him this time.”
“Why’d his last marriage end?”
“His wife was cheating on him.” My stomach sinks when I dredge up those memories. Garrett was devastated by her betrayal. Another reason I’m in no big hurry to start up a relationship. Why fall so deeply in love only to have your partner stab you in the heart?
“Ouch. That’s awful. I could never hurt someone like that. When you make a commitment, you need to honor it. But it sounds like he’s in a better place now.”
It’s good to hear. If I were married, I couldn’t betray my partner. Why bother making the commitment if you’re going to continue looking for the next best thing? And I believe Dean when he says he wouldn’t cheat. He’s always shown me what a respectable and honorable man he is. He once told me a story about his elderly neighbor who has a few dogs. His fence was partially destroyed in a wind storm, so Dean took it upon himself to use his own money—since the neighbor is on a fixed income—to fix the fence so the dogs could go out and play. And he’s always the perfect gentleman with me, opening my doors and pulling out my chair for me before I sit down. Dean is a great catch. I’m surprised no one has snatched him up yet.
“He is in a better place,” I say.
Dean finishes the last bite of his dinner and sets the plate on the coffee table. He positions me so my legs are straight out across the couch. He sits at the opposite end and takes my feet inhis hands. He knows exactly what I like.
When he presses on the center of my arch, I let out a low moan. "That feels so good. I think you missed your calling as a massage therapist."
He laughs and continues applying the perfect amount of pressure to relieve the tension in my feet. “I’ll be your personal massage therapist.” It isn't long before his massage works up my legs, kneading the muscles that get sore from wearing heels all day. His hands move up further, gentle now. Dean uses his fingertips to glide along the outside of my thighs. He looks up into my eyes and his are full of heat and longing. He presses soft kisses along the inside of my knees and painfully slowly works his way up. I love when he's gentle with me, but it makes me wild when he loses control. When I moan in pleasure, I see the switch flip and I know we won’t be doing much sleeping tonight.
Six
Dean
Rolling over and wiping the sleep from my eyes, I peer at the alarm clock.
Ten a.m. It's much later than I normally sleep, but this is vacation. And I don't normally spend half the night awake, but every moment spent with Giselle is worth it.
The sheets are cool next to me. She must have woken up a while ago. I get up to use the restroom and when I return, Giselle is sitting on the edge of the bed looking absolutely gorgeous with sleep-mussed hair and two cups of coffee in her hands. "Good morning," she says.
"Good morning." I stroll over to her and she hands me a mug. Taking a sip, I'm suddenly impressed. "Babe, you remembered." It's black with lots of sugar. It's hard not to gush because to me it’s all about the little things in life.
She beams with a smile from ear to ear. Damn, I want to see that smile every day. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours and I can feel the time ticking away too quickly.
Women don't normally make me nervous, but as I sit on the bed and stare at Giselle, I'm determined not to let my nerves screw this whole week up. "So, do you still want to go to the winery today?" I glance outside of the massive windows in the master bedroom. The sky is blue with a few puffs of white clouds, the sun is shining bright. "If we go early enough, we can avoid the heat of the day and be back for swimming, boating, and working on our tans."
She nods. "Definitely." She smiles at me over the rim of her mug. "I can't tell you how much I've been looking forward to sharing these experiences with you."
I set my coffee down and pull her close. "I've been waiting all year for this. I think I understand." I don’t tell her about the blind date I went on last month that was so bad because all I could think about was her. Or the woman who was hitting on me most of the winter at the mountain. She barely even skied. I starting thinking she’d just come up to hang out in the lodge and wait for my shift to end. She threw herself at me relentlessly, but I turned her down over and over because she couldn’t compare to Giselle in my eyes.
And I don’t want to risk getting gushy too early in the trip, so I decide that we should probably focus. "Want me to make breakfast while you shower?"
She shakes her head.
"Okay, do you want to make breakfast while I shower?" I ask.
She shakes her head again. "I have chocolate croissants proofing in the oven. We have some time to kill before we can eat." She raises her eyebrows and I would never deny her.
This is my week with her and we’ve always been insatiable. That's not going to change now.
I take her coffee from her hand and set it next to mine on the nightstand. Then, I ease her down onto the bed and untie her robe. Shaking my head, I still can't get over how gorgeous she is naked. And she's here with me. "You're so beautiful, Giselle."
"You're not so bad yourself." She gives me a devilish grin.
Tugging my boxer briefs down, I toss them on the floor. Then I roll on top of her, and lay my body flush against hers. I press my forehead to hers and gaze into her eyes. It's hard not to get lost in them—it’s the way she looks at me, with such admiration and appreciation and lust. When I'm with her it feels like she needs me. Although outside of this week, I know she doesn't need anyone. And I don't need her to need me—I want her to want me.
I kiss her, hard on the mouth, and claim what is mine for the week.
In a flash of movement, Giselle nudges me over and I flip onto my back, dragging her on top of me. I love the weight of her body on me and the feel of her soft smooth skin next to mine. She plunges herself onto my length and moans as she sits up and arches her back. I reach up and grab her breasts and fondle her nipples. They fit so perfectly in my hands. Everything about her just fits with me. It’s never been like this with any other woman.
Rotating her hips, she grinds on me. I take her ass in my hands and guide her up and down. She clutches my chest and increases her speed.
She crashes her mouth onto mine and her tongue delves in and out. My hands start moving everywhere. I can’t get enough of the feel of her under my fingertips.
I’m pushing my pelvis up as she presses down. We’re completely in sync. When Giselle's teeth bite down on her bottom lip, I can tell she's close. Reaching down, I play with her clit with my thumb. Her legs tighten around me right before she spasms with an orgasm.
Racing toward the edge with her, I clutch her hips tightly and glide in for a few more strokes. I’m deep inside her when I let go.
She collapses onto my chest, breathing heavily. She has to hear my heart hammering in her ear.
When my breathing slows and I finally feel like I can speak, I say, "How about a shower?"
She looks up at me, her eyes soft, and her body languid against mine. "Let's do it."
This woman. She's become the one I measure all others against. Shockingly enough, no one else can ever compare. Giselle is smart, funny, driven, and beautiful. The full package. If it's the last thing I do, I'm going to figure out a way to make her want this, want us for more than one week a year.
Seven
Giselle
“Everything is going great. How’s everything in the city?” I ask Karen. My pillow is damp from my freshly washed hair, but I can’t be bothered to move as I lie back and watch Dean walk out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped low around his hips.
“All is well here. I just wanted to check in on you. Make sure your mystery man is being good to you,” she says. I was surprised to see her calling this morning. She doesn’t usually when I’m away. And in an effort to be a better friend, I picked up.
“Oh, yes. He is,” I tell her, biting my lip as I watch Dean drop the towel and get dressed. Damn, this man is a thing of beauty. His occupation, as well as all the adventurous activities he likes to do, keeps him lean and muscular. I like a guy who doesn't need to spend all day at the gym to stay in shape. His physique is one hundred percent natural. I wish I could say the same. These days, with my schedule, and as sedentary as my job is, I've had to start working out at the gym. Luckily, we have one in the office building. I'm all about convenience. Dean is yet another convenience in my life. It’s probably why I haven't been dating. I don't need to when I have him to fulfill all my fantasies one week a year. And I don't need to deal with games or power plays. This is simple. Neat. I couldn't be happier. Dean drops a kiss on my cheek before strolling out of the room.
“That’s good. I’m glad to hear it. Oh, and an email went out from Ted. It’s nothing really. He announced that there’s a meeting on Monday morning.”
A meeting? About what? The muscles between my shoulder blades that were completely loose just moments ago stiffen. “I haven’t checked my emails. Does it say what it’s about?”
“Oh, no. I can hear your wheels turning already. You can relax. Remember we’re thinking of a new policy on intake forms? It’s going to be about that. Nothing you need to worry about.”
Why did I pick up the phone? I love Karen, but she should’ve known not to bring up work. This is my only week off. At least the email doesn’t contain anything I need to be stressed about. “Okay. Well, thanks for the update. I’m going to go make breakfast. I’ll see you when I get back,” I tell her.
“Sounds good. Enjoy,” Karen says before she hangs up.
I grab my phone and do a quick email check. Thankfully, there’s nothing there that concerns me. And by the time I'm dressed and pull my hair up into a wet ponytail, Dean’s already started the oven and topped off my mug. I take a sip and mimic his earlier reaction. "Wow, baby, you remembered." I grin, hoping he'll get the joke.
His teal eyes stare into mine as he saunters over to me, pinning me against the counter with his body. "I remember everything about you. Always," he replies in a serious tone.
It's pretty hard to believe. I mean, we’re not together that often. How could his memory be that good about the little things, the small details? I decide to prove my point. "Really? What about the sushi in Beverly Hills?" I had placed a particularly challenging order.
He licks his lips and grins. "Keto-friendly sushi, no rice. Everything was made with cucumber instead. No nori." He bows and wai
ts for me to compliment his memory.
"That was an easy one. My protein shake in Orlando."
"Extra strawberry, easy on the banana, add extra protein powder. Vanilla flavored." He sticks out his tongue. "Next."
I'm starting to get flustered. "The cruise. How did I take my Corona?"
He looks down at the floor and laughs quietly. "You didn't. You thought you were being sneaky and passed it to the woman you were with and drank something out of a souvenir glass instead. The guy at the end of the bar was pretty upset."
My jaw drops. He does. He really remembers everything. And I should be happy, or honored, or giddy, but instead I’m freaked out. When was the last time a guy paid that much attention to me, or my quirks, and embraced them?
The buzzer on the oven sounds. Saved by the bell. I need a distraction. Walking over, I put the oven mitts on and pull out the croissants. There are four. He walks up next to me. "Two each."
I shake my head. "I'm cutting back."
He presses his lips to my forehead. "You'll say that. And you'll eat your first one. I’ll devour both of mine. And then you’ll stare longingly at the one you said I could have. I'll offer to give it to you and you’ll suggest we split it. Let's save some time. We have wine to pick out."
I tilt my head. Who is this man? And why am I just noticing? Or maybe this is simply what happens after all these years. This…is the longest I've ever had any kind of relationship with any man.
To prove him wrong, I only eat one croissant even though he is right and I would love half of the other. He has two and we finish getting ready to leave.
We drive to the winery and take my car. "This drives so smooth. I feel like such a stud in it," he jokes.
"You are a stud." I smile as I study him. He's perfect in so many ways, but in the back of my mind I know that his occupation makes anything more than what we are already completely impossible. It sounds like I’m judging him, but I need someone I can rely on, someone who could truly be my partner, not someone who would need me to be his sugar mama. My dad taught me and my brothers to work hard. He wanted us to be financially secure. I can’t imagine supporting anyone else.