A Weekend Temptation (16 page)

Seeing the model’s stricken face and defeated posture made Ava realize two things; one, Joel had told the truth and two, Ava had been right about Claudia all along—she wasn’t just a woman hunting for a billionaire. Claudia was a woman in love, and she’d lost.

Which meant Ava now had proof that Joel was a man she could trust. He might have a secret, but he wasn’t like her father. If he said his secret wouldn’t harm her, then it wouldn’t. She needed to let go of her fear or it could ruin their growing relationship.

It had been hard to keep Joel at a distance, every female cell in her body called out to him, and it was time to quit fighting and let nature win. She missed the strength and power of his love making. Joel might never love her, but he would give his fidelity. He would be a good father and provider, and he was a masterful genius in bed. Most women should be so lucky.

After dinner, the orchestra began, and Joel led her onto the crowded dance floor. He gathered her into his arms, and Ava laid her head on his broad shoulder and melted against him. She drank in his scent, the feel of his hard muscles against her soft flesh, as they swayed together and talked about everything under the sun.

She could see now that Joel was right. They were good together. They had the same views on life, politics, religion, raising children, and everything else that came up. And their bodies fit. And their minds meshed. And it felt right.

Ava lost track of time, focusing only on Joel. She was shocked when the night ended, and Joel led her to his limo. He must have read the change in her because he rolled the privacy glass up and set her on his lap. She sighed and nestled against his chest.

While she watched the world whiz by, Joel stroked her face and nibbled her neck until she squirmed. Until the feeling of his hard erection made its presence known under her bottom.

In between nibbles, he whispered, “I ache for you. I want you more than I’ve wanted any woman. Don’t turn me away tonight.”

Then he moved his caress from her cheek, to her jaw, and down the front of her delicate neck. Circling lower he traced the responsive area in the valley between her breasts. He stroked underneath her chest, running fingers over each rib. Inches from where she needed his touch. She almost begged for more. But she enjoyed the way he aroused her and teased her. It was too good to describe.

Each stroke flamed her desire, sending her into the red-zone. By the time he finally cupped her breasts, she was dying for his touch, arching into it, moaning with abandon. Her breasts were heavy and responsive. Her center moist and hot. She was ready for anything he wanted to do. But the man concentrated on her breasts, worshipping them. He kneaded her aching flesh until her nipples pebbled, jutting into his palms.

She groaned in frustration when the limo finally stopped in front of his building. She didn’t want it to end. She wanted to stay lost with him.

She sighed when he lifted her into his arms and carried her into the empty elevator as if she were lighter than a flower petal. She wasn’t. She was a pregnant ten pounds heavier.

To carry her like that, for such a distance, without breaking a sweat only reinforced the power of his strength and the steel of muscles. She swallowed hard, and he claimed her lips, branding her mouth with his tongue and his taste.

When the elevator doors closed, he lowered her to her feet, sliding her down the hard length of him before he took her mouth again, his tongue swirling against hers. She moaned in surrender and quivered against him.

He pinned her to the mirrored back wall. He was hot and hard against her belly. The sheer size and power of his arousal made her ache for him to thrust deep inside her. But he wasn’t moving any faster. He seemed to be enjoying tormenting her. He framed her face as he kissed her. Her fingers threaded through his soft, dark hair before tracing the corded muscles at the back of his neck.

He continued to kiss her with a hungry passion, grabbing her bottom, holding her to him. Escape was impossible, as if she wanted freedom.

When he finally broke free for air, his gaze held hers, his hands still cupping her bottom, his mouth hovering over hers, making her want his kiss more than anything. He leaned closer, and his hot sweet breath feathered over her lips.

She swallowed. “What if someone comes in?”

He reached behind him, and hit the elevator’s stop button then returned his attention to her.

“Won’t the elevator’s alarm go off?” she asked.

“Everything okay in there?” A voice piped in from a speaker above. “I see the elevator stopped.”

Joel grabbed the handset to speak with the attendant. Then he restarted the elevator.

Joel managed to keep his hands to himself until they reached the penthouse. Once they were alone, he lowered his head and sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and nipped gently. Her head spun and she arched into him.

When he finally knelt in front of her and pushed up her skirt, she moaned. God, he knew how to make a woman lose it.

In one gaspy breath, he had her panties removed, then he focused in on her center. Her gelatin knees wouldn’t hold her—if she weren’t leaning against the wall, she’d have collapsed in a bubbling puddle.

He found the tender insides of her thighs and explored the silken skin. He parted her, then laved her clitoris with his knowing tongue until she flew toward orgasm. She gasped and begged and thrashed her head as tension strained her muscles.

“I’m…ready…Inside me…Now.”

“No. You’re coming first.” He breathed against her then continued his hot, tingly torture.

It didn’t take many more strokes of his skilled tongue, before she quivered. “Joel!” she cried as she shattered, and orgasm took its hold. Then pleasure and release sank into every cell. If she’d thought her body was weak and weighted before, she was wrong.

But she didn’t have long to recover. With her heart still jabbing, and her breath still ragged, he slid off his pants and underwear.

He wasted no time removing his shirt, instead he thrust into her, sending her toward the edge again.

He took her hard and fast, as if he’d been starving for her all night. As if she were the only one who could satisfy his punishing hunger.

While he thrust into her, he clasped her bottom, controlling the depth and angle of his love making. The result shattered her. She had no say in her pleasure, she had to trust him to give what she needed. And he did. He gave better, stronger, harder than any man. She knew that deep in her bones.

She clamped onto his shoulders, calling his name in desperation as he sank into her body, pushing her toward another climax. When her release finally came, it was incredible. A melting of both body and soul.

A moment after her orgasm, a tide of pleasure sent him in the direction of his release. With one final surge and her name on his lips, he powered into her.

Then he collapsed, crushing her against his solid chest, on the floor of the foyer. One of his hands still clutching her bottom, while the other cradled the back of her head. His lungs heaved, his breath warm and harsh against her neck.

She nuzzled the side of his face, loving the way his whiskers rasped over her soft skin. This man belonged to her. He made her feel like he craved her. Like she alone could satisfy his hunger.

At the charity ball, with her heart beating for him as they danced as one, she’d never have guessed this level of surrender and pleasure existed.

But now she knew. And she’d discovered something else about herself too.

She was in love with Joel Stanfield.

That meant he had power over her. He could hurt her. This was what she’d been trying to avoid. Why she’d been reluctant to marry him. Because she’d known if she gave her heart, that would be it and maybe he’d never give his.

Would his heart always belong to another? The thought cut deep into her.

Is this how he felt about Elizabeth, the way Ava felt about him? Wanting, needing, longing for someone she couldn’t have. Her heart squeezed until she couldn’t breathe. No wonder he’d never gotten over his wife.

The love Ava felt gave her a greater understanding of Joel. Her bone deep desire was not something she’d get over in time. And she couldn’t imagine feeling it for anyone else.

Which meant she had two choices. She could run like hell, and if she did there was no chance he’d ever love her.

Or she could stay and keep doing what she was doing, waiting to see if he would someday fall in love with her.

If she stayed, she could hide her feelings until she was sure his were the same. She owed it to her baby to try. If she could win his heart, she and her child would have everything.

If Joel learned to drop his armor, he’d be the kind of man she wanted. An honest man who’d never cheat. Well, at least he’d never physically. Mentally, who knew? It was possible Joel would spend his life dreaming of Elizabeth. Pretending when he was in Ava’s arms that he held his wife.

Which made her wonder, when he’d ravished her in the elevator, did he wish he sank into Elizabeth’s willing body?

The back of her eyes stung, and she blinked hard. She didn’t want him to see her fall apart. She calmed herself by taking long deep breaths.

While she dressed, he said, “You look…” He frowned, wrinkling his brow. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.”

“I was too hard. I don’t know what possessed me. I
had
to have you.”

She smiled, and her eyes dried. Thank God. “You wanted me? Just me?”

“Of course. I sure as hell didn’t want Claudia.”

“You weren’t thinking of anyone else?”

“No. Just you.”

Now she could breathe. She could satisfy him sexually. At least she had that.

After their clothing had been righted, Joel combed fingers through his hair; then he took extra time with hers, weaving his gentle hands though its wild knots until she shivered. His short nails scratching over her scalp, making her bite back a moan.

Would she ever get enough of Joel?

No, the better question was how long would she satisfy him? Or would her newness eventually wear off? The minute that happened, her heart would splinter, and her blood would dry.

As they recovered, she laid her head against his steel shoulder and savored being near him.

That night Joel moved her things into his room. She had become his in every sense of the word.

After he helped her unpack, he led her to the shower where he soaped every inch of her body, and she returned the favor. Then they made love under the hot spray, against the tile.

Afterwards he tucked her into bed where she slept with her leg over his thigh, her arm draped over his rippled abdomen.

She’d never slept snuggled against a man, in his bed before. At Joel’s private island, after they’d made love, he’d turn away and they’d sleep back to back, not touching.

This was different, but it didn’t feel strange. With Joel, the closeness felt right.

She fell into a deep, dreamless sleep and woke to more glorious love making.

Chapter Sixteen

Ava strode into the foyer, arms full of
BabiesRUs
bags. She dropped her packages down next to Joel’s briefcase in the closet, and grinned.

He was home. Yeah! Even though it was only lunchtime, Joel was home.

Joel never came home early, because he loved the challenge of his suicidal business deals. Well, suicidal in any other man’s hands, but Joel had a keen mind for business, a mind only a handful of New York power-dealers possessed. Joel also had the drive, the gut instinct, the sheer talent, and the insane bravery.

And he was gorgeous. Ava hoped her child got his looks from his father’s gene pool. His looks, his bravery, his intellect, his generosity, his everything. Joel was a gene pool winner.

Over the last four weeks, Joel had shown her how magical life would be as his wife. Every evening they would share a drink on the terrace, while Claire prepared their meal. While they ate in the dining room, they talked about the baby and decorating the nursery. They talked about her day at home and his at the office. They talked about anything and everything, until just being together was too much of an aphrodisiac, then they’d make love.

They made love everywhere: in his limo on the way to a charity event, in his sunken tub, in the foyer, in each closet. You name it, they christened it.

Ava kicked her shoes off and raced through the vast open floor plan. Usually Claire would take her bags, but today the woman was nowhere in sight. The only hint she’d been there was the scent of Ava’s favorite Italian dish.

Ava padded through the French doors that framed the terrace and the million dollar Central Park view. Even if she lived to be a hundred, she’d never take that view for granted. There was nothing in this priceless masterpiece of a penthouse she didn’t appreciate. Everything was the best of the best.

Including the man facing a blaring, afternoon sun and Central Park. At the sound of her footsteps, he spun. Just like the day she’d moved in, his eyes met hers, and the apartment’s grandeur faded into the background.

“Ava,” he said her name like a prayer. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Had he said those exact same words the day she’d moved in? It seemed like a lifetime ago. This time instead of forcing her gaze from his, she let his dark eyes hold hers, liking the way her skin tingled and how her knees went weak.

“Sit down. I don’t want your ankles swelling. Let me pour you a drink,” he said.

She smiled. “My ankles aren’t swelling yet, I’m barely showing.”

“I like how you’re showing. I like knowing that the reason your breasts are fuller and your stomach is rounded is because you carry my baby.”

Her tummy did a summersault. She swallowed as she watched him pour her a glass of sparkling grape juice. The muscles of his broad back rippled underneath his navy T-shirt, and she sighed. Soon she’d be moving her fingers over every single glorious muscled inch of him. This was the life.

He turned and handed her a flute and held one of his own