Lost in Love (12 page)

“That’s because hypothermia’s setting in.” He looked at her mouth. “Your lips are turning blue. I think I need to revive them.”

She smiled wide as her arms wound around his neck. “I
am
feeling a bit shivery.”

“Good thing I’ve got you, duchess.” He lowered his mouth to hers. They tasted like nature, pure, clean. Despite the frigid water they were in, he felt himself stir, Big Jack down below waking up, eager to slide home.

Portia hummed in her throat, detangling from him. “I had something else in mind. Follow me.”

It took him a few seconds to realize she was swimming away. He dove smoothly after her, catching up as she ducked under a log that blocked the surface of the water.

Where was she taking him? He followed her, intrigued. He’d never have figured his duchess as a nature girl based on the first time they met—certainly not as the type to go skinny-dipping during the day. But the Portia he knew now was complex. Layered. Willing to adventure despite her prim suits and pearls.

She finally stopped further down the creek, in what was almost an alcove. As she tread the water, the winter sun’s weak light filtered through the trees, making her skin luminescent.

Then he realized the water was warm, like bath water. “Hot springs?” he asked.

She nodded happily. “Much better, isn’t it?”

“Why didn’t you have me get in here in the first place?”

“The brambles are in the way of the cave. Besides, my oldest sister Beatrice says the end result is better when you work for it.”

“I think the end result would have been just fine without the arctic swim first.”

Chuckling, she floated on her back. “You can’t deny it’s lovely here though.”

He watched her, the way the water lapped at her rosy nipples, still hard from the cold, and he shook his head. “It’s the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen.”

She looked at him, her expression becoming serious. “I meant the scenery.”

“So did I.” He swam to her, rolling with her in the water like dolphins. “Happy Valentine’s Day, duchess. I have a surprise for you later in my room.”

“You do?”

She sounded so pleased that he vowed to make sure she had plenty of romantic surprises in the future. “You’ll like it almost as much as you’ll like this,” he promised.

Her eyes widened when she felt his hardness against her thigh. “
Now?
”

“Yes.” He kissed her neck and then lifted her up enough to lick her pert nipples. As he warmed them with his tongue, they grew harder, rosier.

“What if someone stumbles upon us?” She leaned back in the water, arching up into his mouth.

“We’re underwater.” To prove it, he slid his body against hers, teasing them both with his hard-on. “They can’t see anything.”

She gasped, her fingers clutching him as she sank because she forgot to tread. “They’d be able to tell what we’re doing.”

“Especially if you make little gaspy noises like that.”

Portia bit her lip, as if to stop, but then he rubbed her hotspot and she mewled again.

Jack chuckled. “I like that you make noises. I like that you can’t help yourself, that when I touch you, you go crazy.”

To prove it, he slipped his fingers between her legs. His middle finger slid all the way home, and he held his palm pressed against her hard, little clit. Supporting her with his other arm, he held her above water, watching pleasure flush her face.

“This is …” She bit her lip as he shifted his finger a little.

Nuzzling her neck, he said, “What, duchess?”

“Wicked.” She arched up. “I want more, please.”

“So polite. Tell me what that is.”

She swallowed, her gaze catching his. He wasn’t sure she would—part of her was very proper and reserved. But then she said, “Rub me with your palm.”

He felt a jolt of sexual pleasure, more intense than a caress. He began to softly grind his hand into her. “Like this?”

“Yes,” she moaned, arching up.

He licked at her nipples, puckered from the cold air and his tongue, and she groaned again. She wrapped her arms around his neck, biting her lips, eyes squeezed shut. “Jackson, I need more.”

He anchored her to him, wanting to give her everything her heart desired. “Harder, sugar?”

“
Yes.
” She wrapped her legs around him.

He gave her what she wanted. The water undulated with the movement of her body. He clamped her against him, keeping her afloat while she climbed higher and higher.

When she came, she cried out his name, her nails biting into his shoulder.

He didn’t care—all he could think of was sinking into her and lighting her up with ecstasy again.

She shifted in his arms, snaking a hand between them until she gripped him firm. “Your turn.”

“We don’t have to now,” he lied.

She chuckled, her laugh tickling his neck. “I think we do.”

The feel of her fingers, the caress of the hot water, the thought that they could be found, all snuck up on him. Sooner than he wanted, he felt his own orgasm building. “Portia.”

She kissed his shoulder in reply. Then she nipped him with her teeth, closer to his neck.

He exploded hard, water closing over his head as he forgot to swim.

Portia brought them both back up to the surface. “I have you,” she whispered as she propped him up.

He felt her fingers still caressing him, and he couldn’t disagree. She had him in more ways than she realized.

Chapter Fifteen

The door to her office opened. Assuming it was her assistant, Meredith shook her head, not bothering to look up from the plans she was putting the finishing touches on. “I’m already late in meeting Portia. Whatever it is will have to wait.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Quinn!” She lifted her gaze, surprised, both by seeing him and also by how delighted she was by it. “I didn’t expect you today.”

He closed the door. “Can you take a minute?”

“Sure.” She frowned. “Nothing’s wrong, is it?”

Approaching her, he lifted her from her chair, took his glasses off, and kissed her like she’d never been kissed before.

Her mind went completely white, desire filling it with a brilliant light she’d never experienced. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing close, testing how he felt.

He felt really good. She gripped his back, surprised by how muscular he was, though she didn’t know why. Quinn was the sort of man who’d treat his body as a temple. She inched closer and leaned into him, gasping when she felt his hardness press against her belly.

She almost started to back away, but she caught herself before she resorted to her normal behavior. Instead, she pressed closer.

He rewarded her with a low growl. Spearing his fingers through her hair despite the fact that it was in a bun, he tipped her head up and trailed biting kisses down her neck.

Sparks shot through her body, and she moaned in delicious arousal. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I missed you,” he said simply, nibbling his way back to her lips. He plundered there for a bit before resting his forehead against hers. “I needed this all day.”

She’d needed it all her life.

As if he knew what she were thinking, he said, “I’m looking forward to making you unravel, so undone that you can’t utter any coherent words, not even my name.”

Before she wouldn’t have been able to imagine such a state, but after that kiss she’d be willing to believe unicorns existed. They were probably less elusive than an orgasm with a man.

“And then”—he lowered his lips to her ear, so his breath tickled her skin—”I’m going to make you come again, and again, until you beg me to stop.”

“Is that possible?” she asked, her voice so husky she didn’t recognize it.

“I’ll show you.” He lifted his head, giving her an enigmatic smile as he placed his glasses back on his nose. “I have to go to France to check on the other property.”

The sudden segue made her blink. Disappointment followed on its heels, sharp and surprising. Playing with a button on his suit, she asked, “How long will you be gone?”

“Too long. Three days.” He lifted her chin. “I’m going to want to see you when I return.”

Meredith nodded. “Yes.”

Quinn kissed her again, less hungrily than the first time but no less intense. “I’ll call you.”

She wanted to ask him when, but she just smiled. She didn’t want to be let down. He was a busy man—he couldn’t be at her beck and call.

He ran a hand down her back and then left as abruptly as he walked in.

She dropped back in her chair, wondering what happened. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there in a daze before her assistant walked in, frowning when she saw Meredith. “Weren’t you supposed to meet Portia Summerhill at one?”

“Oh no.” She hopped up and gathered all the things she’d forgotten when Quinn had walked in. “I’m going.”

“I’ll call you a taxi,” her assistant called after her.

Meredith smiled over her shoulder as she headed for the elevators. “Bless you.”

There was a cab waiting for her when she arrived downstairs. She got in and gave the driver the address.

When she arrived at the warehouse, Portia was humming a Bruce Springsteen song as she methodically catalogued the items in a box. Ever since she’d returned from her country tryst with Jackson, she’d been glowing and happy. Portia looked sated and well-loved.

Quinn would have said she looked like a woman thoroughly fucked.

Meredith wanted that—to be fully satisfied and swollen with pleasure. To feel alive and wanted. Happy.

She wanted to be the one to make Quinn feel that way, too. She should add that to her list:
Make Andrew Quinn look thoroughly fucked
.

Portia’s head popped up, and she smiled in welcome. “Look what I found. It’s scandalous.”

Meredith looked at the long object and frowned. She unwrapped her layers and set them on a box. “It looks like a, um …”

“Sex tool.” Portia leaned in. “Lady Jane Summerhill, one of the daughters of the fifth Earl of Amberlin, was admitted into a psychiatric hospital several times for ‘hysteria.’ Back then, if a woman liked sex, they thought there was something wrong with her.”

“That’s sad, being ostracized for only wanting physical pleasure,” she said, relating.

“I know. According to her journal, Jane was caught with a stable boy,” Portia said in a conspiratorial voice that made Meredith feel like they were gossiping. “They sent her away to cure her. Her doctor gave her this.”

“That’s both amazing and disturbing.” Meredith eyed the dildo. “We aren’t putting that in Suncrest’s exhibit.”

Portia laughed, a happy sound that made Meredith feel wistful for some reason. She looked at the British woman, wondering how far she and Jackson had gone.

What was she thinking? It was obvious how far they’d gone.

“Do you like sex?” she heard herself ask. She clamped a hand over her mouth, her face going up in flames.

Portia blushed, too, a dainty flush of rose on her cheeks. “I do quite, actually.”

Something in her tone made Meredith study the woman. “You sound surprised.”

“Honestly?” She carefully set the dildo aside. “I was hardly a virgin, but I had no clue. None at all.”

With Jackson? Really? But Meredith knew better than to voice that, because even though she and Jackson had no feelings between them, she doubted Portia wanted to compare notes with her lover’s ex.

But if Portia was so satiated with Jackson, why hadn’t she been able to be? And if Jackson couldn’t inspire her, what made her think Quinn could?

She remembered his kiss and shivered. If anyone could satisfy her, it’d be Quinn.

Portia put a hand on her arm. “Is everything all right?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“For one, you’re never late.”

“Quinn just wanted to let me know he’s going to be out of town,” she said, feeling her face begin to heat up all over again.

Portia raised her brow. “It’s rather nice of him to stop by rather than sending you an email. Very personal.”

Meredith ducked her head, chuckling. “Okay, you caught us.”

Portia smiled. “It’s none of my business. He apparently makes you happy, though.”

“You sound like that’s a hard thing to comprehend.”

“He’s rather severe, isn’t he?” Portia shrugged. “To each his own.”

“What sort of man do you prefer?” she asked, knowing Jackson was as far from Quinn on the spectrum as they could possibly be.

“I used to prefer men like my father, but my sisters like to remind me what a fool I was.”

“What was your father like?”

“At one time I thought he walked on water. He was always perfectly groomed with immaculate manners. He was harsh and demanding, but he tried to care for us in the best way he knew.” Portia set the box in front of her aside and dragged the one next to her closer.

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“He had a second family we didn’t know about. We only recently found out we have a half-sister.”

“Ouch.” She winced. “My mother’s been married and divorced a number of times, but I don’t have any half-siblings.”

“Summer isn’t awful.” Portia grinned. “Actually, she’s quite lovely. She’s very accomplished. Perhaps you’ll meet her. Perhaps you can come out Tuesday night with us girls, since Quinn will be gone.”

Meredith paused, trying to remember the last time she’d had a night with girlfriends. A little over eight months ago.

She shook her head in amazement. How had she let that happen?

“You don’t have to come if you prefer not to,” Portia said carefully.

“No, I want to.” She smiled. “I’d really love to.”

Chapter Sixteen

“One of your ancestors sure had a thing for dogs.”

Portia looked up to the item Jackson held up. It was like a small statue with a cylindrical body and the head of a canine, the tongue a brush of some sort of bristles. She shook her head. “That’s a stamp licker.”

“A what?”

“To wet stamps for you, so you don’t get the gummy taste on your palette.”

Jackson quirked his brow. “Of course it is. How could I not have known?”

“You’re a Yankee.”

He set the gadget down and pushed his cowboy hat back. “Did you just insult me?”