Everything You Want: Everything For You Trilogy 2 (17 page)

But I’m not going to play dead to please Amanda. Whatever she thinks, I saw Jack first. It’s as simple as that in my brain. I promise myself at the very least to try and change his mind. Any spanner I can put in the works for her scheming will be my pleasure because there is no way she should get away with being such a prize bitch. Already I’ve lost the Zee-Com contract to Advance, albeit temporarily. She’s not getting her hooks any deeper into my man without a fight.

Determined? Over-achiever? He has no idea.

I shower thoroughly and put on the sexiest little dress I possess. It’s covered in huge yellow sunflowers and there aren’t too many of them on show; unlike my skin. I blow dry my hair upside down so I look wild and sexy and put on some smoky eye make-up. No lip gloss. I’m going to do everything I can to make Jack think twice about leaving me again.

It’s that last thought that makes me snatch up another item of clothing from the floor.

I know where to find him and I’m not wrong. Full of enthusiasm for my plan I run to Harry’s study, fling open the door and hurl myself inside kicking off my espadrilles in the doorway.

Jack, sitting at Harry’s big antique desk, is already tapping away at his laptop. He’s really sexy in faded denim and a soft, white open-necked shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He looks up in shock when I lean over and snap the lid firmly shut. Only his quick reactions prevent his fingers getting trapped.

“I’m trying to work.” The way he says it is quite unconvincing. His mind is already processing this strange invasion.

“It’s Sunday.” I grin at his look of stunned surprise as I whip round the desk towards him.

“I usually work on Sundays too.”

I realise in that moment no-one has ever put themselves between Jack and Zee-Com business before. Or perhaps it’s him messaging Amanda I’m cutting off mid-stream which is even more satisfying as far as I’m concerned. It can be done.

“You’re engaged to me now. Things are about to change.”

His cool expression converts to one of astonishment as I push him back in his chair and lithely straddle his muscular thighs. Last night’s gusset-less panties, courtesy of Jack’s rough-neck adventures, are back on and I may be blushing but I’m a girl who commits. I lock my arms round his neck and press my lips hard against his. He responds immediately as I hoped he would. If he’d pushed me away, I don’t know what I would have done but I’m operating on womanly instinct here, pure and simple. He presses against the small of my back pushing me tighter into him until I settle over what I know is a rapidly stiffening erection. He’s always so ready for me. His breathing turns harsher and more staccato as he loves all things wild.

“Let me help you out there.” Reaching between our bodies I unbutton his jeans, rising up on tiptoes to clear my way. I free him from the restrictions of his clothing and he obligingly emerges erect and hard in my hand. Chest heaving in excitement, he tears at my zip and yanks the dress down over my shoulders without reserve or restraint, just wanting to get at my body.

“This is a good way to start a Sunday,” he admits, kissing me long and slow.

With my breasts freed, he dips his head and raises one up to meet his mouth. He suckles hard on my turgid nipple until I whimper and my hips move over his. It doesn’t make him stop but drives him to further atrocities. We both anticipate this being fast, hard and cathartic.

I fist his flesh and stroke in a measured manner up to the tip where I twist my wrist and slide back down again. His mouth opens in a grimace of pleasurable torment at each slow sweep. My restraint is to be admired considering what he’s doing to my body at the same time. When my thumb sweeps the tip again I gather the bead of moisture there, raising it to my tongue and sucking it off slowly and sexily.

His features express aroused fascination as he studies me. I know he’s confused about the sudden change in me since last night but clearly he isn’t going to question what I’m about at this moment. He’s a clever and practical man and I smile in a triumph of delight at this current power I hold over him.

He removes the arrogance from my lips with his hungry, consuming kiss. But I raise myself up again and run his searing flesh through my silken heat, using his body like a toy to excite mine. Move and counter-move.

“Christ, kitten. You’re killing me.” I’m sure he must wonder why his submissive little fool has suddenly become so demonstrative and dangerous.

“We’re engaged now,” I remind him. “Doesn’t that mean that all possessions become shared ones?” Let him wonder about that. “Or will you want a pre-nup?”

“Can’t talk,” he mumbles against me. “Mouth full.”

I laugh and quicken my stroke. He needs me to complete him. If I walk away, I know already he’d drag me back to finish what I’d started but I wonder just how far he will let me torment him first. His fingers skip up and down my thighs as I lift and fall and he squeezes my buttocks hard with outstretched hands.

Suddenly he wrests control from me, lifting me so easily with strong hands placed at my hips, and placing me into the spot he finds desirable for his taking. I freeze for a second as he dares me with his expression to try and stop him. Today I will not but he gives me such delicious ideas I smile again.

His frown is fleeting, looking at me like he doesn’t quite know who this strange woman is after all. Yet he’ll take her proffered gifts. He pulls me down over him until I slowly subside bending my knees, pausing periodically in my descent to let him know I aim to keep some control. It is as big a deception as our engagement because I know it only happens because he allows it.

His gorgeous face displays such a divine mixture of pain and ecstasy that I reckon it must mirror my own. With his hands kneading my breasts, I set the rhythm: rising, lowering and undulating my hips back and forth when he is deepest inside me. He moans in delight at my delicious exploration. The shift of his muscular weight echoes along the inner walls of my body, probing the deep, dark cavern of my womanhood.

“I want this off.” My fingers open the buttons of his shirt and spread the edges wide, examining his pectoral muscles and the crisp hairs scattered around them. The subtle smell of Clive Christian engulfs me. I pinch his nipples between my fingers until he jerks uncontrollably inside me.

“I want to come,” he snarls.

My assertive behaviour is having an unexpected effect on Jack’s habitual self-control. It gives me hope that I can win any game I want if I move the pieces correctly on the board. I rise fully allowing him to slip from my body. It is as difficult for me as it is for him. My legs are trembling. His eyes fly to mine in query.

“Not yet,” I whisper. “Soon.” I sweeten the bitter pill by taking his lower lip between my teeth and scoring him until he hisses in erotic agony. My tongue delves inside his mouth to travel slowly and discover deliberately. He remains tolerant of my journey, no doubt fascinated by what is happening between us.

His hands press my body into his. I feel him rub against my naked breasts as he grinds his hard planes against my full roundness. The difference is what compels us. When I pull my tongue back into my mouth again, licking at my lips suggestively as I enjoy the taste of him, he loses patience.

“Tabitha, I want to come.”

I know he could make it happen as he wishes but I also know he enjoys this game of mine too much to stop me. In his own way he’s asking for my permission. I feel a sense of triumph even though I haven’t achieved anything at all. Yet.

“Hush, tiger,” I tell him. “Soon.”

His eyes widen, his pupils dilate excitedly at my nerve.

I run my fingers through his dark hair and cradle his skull between my hands. It is the intensity of his eyes searching mine that destroys me. I vow to myself he will be mine for real. I seal my secret promise with a short, hard kiss then yank his head backwards and take his throat like a rabid bitch on heat.

“What are you up to?” He’s breathless; his words staccato.

“Shhh.” I am not fooled he will forget this teasing of mine though. He remembers everything.

“When I come, I’ll let you come with me,” I promise.

Jack laughs tightly. He palms my breasts and kneads them firmly to hurry me along. His nails curve repeatedly over my taut nipples. They’re tender and sensitive to his skilful touch and he makes me squirm and moan. I can no longer ignore the insistent throbbing of my arousal so I guide his body into mine once more. I have no idea why he holds out so long when he could do something about it if he wanted. I like to think he’s granting me something special here.

Intense heat spears me as he lifts his hips from his chair to deepen the penetration. It forces all the breath from my lungs. As he repeats his action I’m already gone. I grind my pelvis against him as I glide into the abyss of light.

Each move against the other blends my soprano cries with his deep bass grunts of satisfaction creating a harmonious sound. He thrusts violently against me while I hang on tight. My legs quiver with exhaustion as orgasm crests. He swells, pumping his essence deep into the well of me but my body clutches at his manhood greedily and robs him of his power.

I listen to his final groan of surrender and grab and pull and keep him close to me. I’m wrapped so tightly round him I think he must feel strangled but I’m so reckless and abandoned with lust I lean back to ride him mercilessly to the dry end of the trail.

With ragged breath, his energy is intense yet dissipating in the same moment. My molten essence holds together only by the strength of his arms around me. We stay locked for the longest time.

When I first try to move off he prevents me. I’m staying right where I am until he decides otherwise and I fully get the message. The game is in play.

“What was that all about?” He murmurs it against my ear with a mixture of suspicion, surprise and enjoyment. His breathing descends but his elevated heart rate lags behind it. “Just asking. Not complaining.”

I’ve won something important and I know it. “I wanted to seal our engagement.” I know I have a look of devilment on my face.

“Isn’t that usually done with a ring?” He frowns, unsure of me, yet arches his brow in expectation of a reply.

“Do I have one?” I try to sound coquettish. I must establish the nuances of this game and play it well if I want to win by the final throw of the dice.

He regards me with tolerant suspicion but doesn’t reject my friendly overtures. He’s as good as his word, trying to make this charade as painless as possible for both of us. Somehow that hurts even more but I hide it well.

“Do you want to see it?” A half smile lights his lips.

He really has got a ring? Now it’s my turn to be shocked. I can only nod as his smile widens.

He taps me a couple of times on the rump indicating that I need to get off him first. I lift up slowly and we both wince a little in sensitivity as we part. He pulls my dress up over my shoulders again, tucking himself into his trousers.

“By the way,” he says without looking up. “That excuse of a pair of panties… I approve.” He stands and walks to the door without looking back at the acute embarrassment he’s caused me. I’m still wearing what amounts to little more than a hand-ripped crotch-less band of elastic that Jack remodelled like a savage yesterday. “But only when you’re alone with me,” he adds.

He glances back before disappearing through the doorway. I hurriedly take the ridiculous things off, stuff them in the waste-paper basket; think better of it – remembering Madame will be in to clean on Monday morning – and remove them again. I ball them into my fist to dispose of more discretely. Far from burying them in the garden, a monument to all things depraved, I’m not quite sure what I’m supposed to do with them. I put them back on again for now in case I accidently leave them lying around somewhere unfortunate.

I wander outside to sit in the garden under the vine covered arbour. The morning sun is already high in the sky, the air, still and warm, yet hasn’t quite gained the damaging heat of midday. I hear a woodpecker rattling at a nearby tree and bees droning lazily through the flower borders. I prefer to make this strange exchange in a special place, even if it is a lie.

I don’t worry about Jack discovering where I’ve got to. When he says he’ll always know where to find me, I believe him. After my athletic efforts I feel relaxed instead of uptight and apprehensive. I chuckle realising Jack has helped me discover another technique for overcoming anxiety. But I’m sure he would sanction its use: only with him.

”There you are.” He comes and sits beside me. “What’s so funny?”

“Life.”

“It was pretty straightforward, until you came along.”

We stare at the honey-golden garden in companionable silence. The setting is peaceful and romantic and encourages contemplation. Exactly the way I imagined this moment in my life might be.

And nothing like it. I get a bitter taste in my mouth.

“Tabitha?”

I turn to look at Jack. He holds me with his blue, blue gaze. The sunlight strangely warms their Arctic colour and I have never seen them look quite this way before. He reaches up, cupping my cheek and leans in to kiss me softly on the lips.

“Thank you for understanding,” he says.

I’m not quite certain what he thinks I understand but perhaps he’s just relieved I’ve stopped crying about everything. He holds up a little dark box and shakes it with a sheepish grin.