Pleasure, Pregnancy and a Proposition (4 page)

‘Do you think this is funny?’ she demanded, as outraged as she was incredulous.

Luke stifled a laugh. She was right, it was hardly appropriate in the circumstances, but still he couldn’t resist
saying, ‘You look great when you’re angry. I thought so that first night and I think so now.’

‘If that’s your cock-eyed idea of a compliment, I pity any woman unfortunate enough to get involved with you.’

‘Like you, you mean?’ he asked lightly, letting the insult pass.

‘One quickie does not an involvement make,’ she snapped.

‘As I recall it wasn’t quick.’

She didn’t say a word as he stopped at the set of traffic lights leading onto the Westway. He pressed the button on the dash to raise the convertible’s roof.

‘I don’t want to talk about that night,’ she said at last. The temper seemed to have drained out of her. Luke had to strain to hear her over the hydraulic hum. ‘I’ve been trying to forget it for the last three months,’ she finished.

‘Sounds like you’ve had about as much luck with that as I have,’ he said gently. He could see confusion and panic in her gaze when she turned to look at him. It gave him the leverage he needed. ‘I guess there’ll be no forgetting it now. For either of us.’

She sighed. ‘I suppose not. But that doesn’t mean we have to repeat the same mistake twice.’

Until she’d said the words, issued the challenge, it hadn’t even occurred to Luke how much he
wanted
to repeat their so-called mistake.

Yes, he found her incredibly attractive. Yes, she tantalised him as much as she infuriated him. And, yes, he hadn’t been able to forget her. But after the way their night together had ended he’d decided not to pursue her. He wasn’t a masochist.

But as she sat in his car, watching him—her chin stuck out, her eyes wary, her bottom lip trembling just enough to give her away—he knew he’d been fooling himself. It
wasn’t just Jack’s offhand comments during their weekly game of squash that had got him clearing his calendar for the week, calling Harley Street and then storming into her office this afternoon. And it wasn’t the flickering image of their baby in the doctor’s surgery either.

He still wanted her. In fact he’d never stopped wanting her, and it was about time he admitted it.

When he’d seen the baby on the ultrasound screen there had been shock, sure, but right along with it had been a wave of masculine satisfaction that he couldn’t explain.

This baby was going to complicate his life. No question about it. He was no romantic fool, and he wasn’t a family man either. He didn’t even know what family meant. So why, on some elemental level, was he pleased about this pregnancy?

The answer was painfully obvious. His reaction to the baby—to his baby, he now realised—had been instinctive and purely male. With her carrying his child she was bound to him in a way she hadn’t been before. He’d stamped his claim on her in the most basic, primitive way possible.

From her combative behaviour this afternoon, though, he could see persuading her of this simple fact was going to take patience, single-mindedness and a degree of ruthlessness.

It was a good thing he had plenty of all three.

‘What happened that night wasn’t a mistake,’ he said, punching the accelerator as they drove up the ramp onto the elevated motorway out of town. ‘Not for me and certainly not for you. Or did you want to spend the rest of your life faking your orgasms?’

Louisa sucked in a shocked breath as his terse comment sliced right through her defences.

She’d told him that in confidence. How could he bring it up now?

The urge to punch him was so strong she began to shake.

She wanted to ignore his asinine remark and the memories it triggered. But as she swallowed down the hot ball of humiliation that surged up her throat the memories came flooding back anyway.

Three months earlier

‘H
OW
much further is it to your flat? It’s getting chilly,’ Luke declared, squeezing Louisa’s shoulders.

She snuggled into the embrace. He felt so solid, so good, so right beside her.

‘Stop moaning,’ she teased. ‘It’s a beautiful night.’ But then the fresh spring breeze ruffled her hair and made her shiver.

‘You’re cold,’ he said. ‘Here.’

He pulled off his jacket and draped it over her, then gave her arms a vigorous rub. Well, that had certainly warmed her right up.

‘Come on,’ he said, slinging his arm back over her shoulders. ‘Let’s grab a cab and I’ll take you home.’

She could smell the hint of his soap, feel the warmth of his skin on the well-worn leather jacket. She stared at his profile as he scanned Camden High Street, looking for a cab, and knew that she didn’t want this evening to end. Not ever.

They climbed into the cab. She bent forward to give the driver directions. As she finished talking, warm hands clamped around her waist. ‘Come here.’

‘Oh!’ She gasped as she landed on his lap.

He wrapped his arms around her, anchoring her in place. ‘How do you feel about necking in the back seat of a cab?’ he whispered, nuzzling her ear.

Her bangles jingled as she threaded her fingers through the hair at his nape. ‘I’m all for it.’ His thigh muscles tensed beneath her bottom. ‘But unfortunately it’ll only take about two minutes to get there.’

‘That’s a shame,’ he whispered, but she could sense the smile on his lips as they touched hers.

Her mouth opened instinctively. He tasted of coffee and barely leashed passion as his tongue probed. Delicious little shock waves pulsed through her body, and her fingers trembled on his neck as the kiss deepened.

Framing her face, he broke away first. ‘We’d better stop,’ he murmured, his voice strained. ‘Two minutes isn’t going to be nearly long enough.’

Even in the dim light of the cab she could see his eyes had gone dark with arousal, the pupils so dilated the silvery-grey of his irises had all but disappeared.

A reckless thrill shimmered through her body, the solid ridge pressing against her bottom making her insides go all tingly. ‘Why don’t you come in for a coffee?’ she said.

The bold offer shocked her a little. She adored flirting—the long looks and secret touches, the sensual hum of anticipation—but over the years she’d become very discerning about taking it any further. For the simple reason that sex had always been such a huge disappointment.

At twenty-six she’d never had anything even approaching an orgasm. She’d stopped kissing frogs a few years back, because, frankly, faking her enjoyment had got old really fast. But despite that, in some small corner of her
heart, she’d always known that she’d get her bells and whistles when she found her Mr Right.

Tonight, when she’d been introduced to Luke in Mel’s living room, his thick wavy hair falling over dark brows and the penetrating look in his smoky eyes making her pulse skitter, her heart had whispered,
Could this be him?

They’d hit it off instantly, and become so absorbed in each other they’d virtually ignored the other dinner guests. Then he’d offered to walk her home. As they’d strolled through Regent’s Park together—the sky dusky with twilight, pink blossoms scenting the air and the comforting weight of his arm around her keeping her warm—everything had been so perfectly romantic, the connection between them so clear, she’d had no trouble at all convincing herself Prince Charming had finally put in an appearance. This potent zing of arousal was just the icing on the cake.

He frowned in the shadows, his hands slipping down to her shoulders. ‘Are you sure you want to ask me in?’

‘You don’t want to?’ Her heart stuttered. Wasn’t this where they had been headed all evening?

He gave a half-laugh, the sound pained. ‘Of course I do. But I should tell you…’ He paused. His thumb drew a lazy circle on her bare collarbone under the lapel of his jacket, making her skin burn. ‘Once we’re in your flat I won’t be all that interested in coffee.’

‘Phew, that’s a relief,’ she said, her heart pummelling. ‘Because I’m not even sure I’ve got any.’

He laughed softly. ‘I’m glad we got that settled,’ he said, nipping her earlobe as the taxi shuddered to a halt outside her house. Any reservations she had left dissolved in a liquid pool of lust.

He paid the driver as she stepped out of the cab, then
led her up the front steps of the Georgian terraced house she indicated, his hand swinging in hers.

She had to scrabble around in her bag to find her keys, the ripples of excitement making her fumble.

‘Let me,’ he said calmly, and took the keys to unlock the heavy oak door.

He pushed the door open and stepped back so she could precede him. Her heart melted at the instinctive courtesy. All evening he’d been opening doors for her, holding out her chair, paying the tab without asking. On their next date she would offer to pay her share. After all, she was a modern and liberated woman. But she had to admit his macho, take-charge chivalry tonight had made her feel special—precious, even—and even more aroused.

He grasped her hand as soon as they were through the front door and took charge again, striding towards the stairwell. ‘Which floor?’ he asked.

‘The top one.’ The words came out on a sigh of regret. ‘Let’s hurry,’ she said, pulling her hand out of his to run up the stairs ahead of him.

‘Hey, wait for me.’ He chuckled, catching up with her easily as his long legs took the stairs two at a time.

Despite taking two step classes a week at the local gym, Louisa couldn’t catch her breath by the time they reached her flat—which probably had more to do with the weight of his hand on the small of her back than with physical exertion.

She found her keys again, but couldn’t find the lock in the darkness, as his fingers trailed over her nape. He pushed the heavy weight of her hair to one side and his lips nibbled across the back of her neck. The keys clattered onto the floor.

He laughed and bent to pick them up. ‘We better get this open,’ he said softly, ‘before we get carried away.’

The front door duly opened, she gasped as he swept her into his arms to carry her over the threshold. His handsome face looked determined in the dim light, his harsh breathing matching her own. She clung on to his neck and tried to stop shivering. If she got much more excited she’d pass out and ruin everything.

He let her down slowly. The wide flowing skirt of her dress rode up, the bare skin of her legs brushing the stiff new denim of his jeans. Her back bumped against the wall as his hand stroked up her thigh.

‘You’ve been driving me wild all evening,’ he mumbled as his lips skimmed the sensitive skin under her ear. ‘I want you so much.’ His voice shook with an urgency that both shocked and thrilled her. ‘Tell me you feel the same,’ he demanded.

‘Yes.’ She choked out the word, dragging him closer as his hands explored her inner thigh. His thumb traced the edge of her panties and then his fingers pulled the lace aside and plunged into the wet heat. She sobbed, quivering, unable to believe the sensations as he circled and rubbed at the heart of her. The licks of flame flared into a raw, molten heat.

She tensed, grasped his arm, bucking under his stroking fingers as the flames burned hotter, shocked by the intensity. ‘Please—don’t. It’s too much,’ she cried, sure she was about to leap over some unknown precipice and shatter into a million jagged pieces.

‘Shh…’ His fingers slowed, retreating slightly. ‘Let go, Louisa,’ he said, his voice coaxing. ‘It’ll be good, I promise.’

He flicked over the nub again, and she jerked as the consuming heat seared through her.

‘I can’t,’ she said, embarrassment warring with need. He must think she was mad, but she couldn’t do it. She
couldn’t let go and risk plummeting into the unknown. Her thigh muscles tensed even more. She sucked in a breath, humiliation tightening her throat.

What a great time to find out she was frigid—when her own personal Prince Charming had his hand down her knickers.

‘Just relax a minute,’ he said, his fingers still circling lazily, but mercifully not touching The Spot. She could see the small lines round his eyes in the half-light. Was he smiling at her? Did he think she was funny? Or, worse, inadequate?

She shrank back. Oh, this was hideous. She’d never felt more exposed in her life. ‘Maybe we should take a raincheck on the coffee?’ she whispered, her chest imploding as she tried to wriggle out of his embrace.

He drew his hand up and placed it on her hip, trapping her. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked.

‘I’m not in the mood any more,’ she said, staring at his chest.

He tucked his forefinger under her chin, lifted her gaze to his. ‘You were so close, and then you tensed up. What happened?’

She shook her head, chewed her bottom lip to stop it trembling. ‘Does it matter?’ she murmured, utterly devastated.

He cupped her face in his palm, ran his thumb across her cheekbone. Her heart clutched tight. The tenderness, the understanding she saw in his face, made her want to weep.

‘Of course it matters,’ he said. ‘Look, all you need to do is relax.’ His hands settled on her shoulders, massaged the rigid muscles. ‘You’re all knotted up,’ he said, firm fingers digging into the knots. ‘No wonder you couldn’t come.’

Slowly, very slowly, as his fingers worked their magic,
kneading her shoulders, skimming up and down her neck, the tight balls of muscle began to release. He kissed her jaw, found her mouth, and on a long breathless sigh she let him in. Warmth flowed between her thighs.

His thumbs brushed over her breasts. Her nipples tightened at the slight touch.

‘You see—you can do it,’ he said, satisfaction deepening his voice.

He kissed her again, his tongue delving deep now, possessing her as he pushed his jacket off her shoulders.

‘I want to see you, Louisa,’ he murmured as he stepped back.

She let him tug the bodice of her dress down and undo her bra, glad of the comforting shadows. Her chest heaved as he pulled the pink lace away, baring her to his gaze. His fingers stroked the top of her breasts as he stared at them, and she shivered.

She should feel exposed, embarrassed. She was practically naked, after all, and he was still fully dressed. But as his eyes met hers the stormy grey glittered with appreciation and she felt need twist and clutch in her belly.

He bent his head and lifted the peak to his lips. He licked, and then teased the hard bud with his teeth until it went rigid with desire. At last he took the nipple in his mouth and gave it the strong suction she craved. She swayed as pleasure battered her in slow, slumberous waves. Then he turned his attention to her other breast, subjecting it to the same delicious torture. Small sobs clogged her throat as she slid into the hoped-for oblivion.

‘Okay, let’s get to the heart of the matter,’ he whispered. His breath feathered the wet flesh of her breasts as he dipped to hook his fingers in the waistband of her panties and drag them down. She stepped out of them, her legs shaking.

He lifted the hem of her dress and cupped her sex, pressing the heel of his palm against her.

She fisted her hands in his hair, dragged him to her for a fervent, thankful kiss. He kept her suspended for ever, it seemed. The desire grew, the anticipation mounting to impossible proportions as his hand rubbed and the soft cotton of his T-shirt brushed against her swollen nipples. She moved her hips, trying to push herself into his palm. At long last his fingers sank into the slick folds, seeking, tempting. She jerked as he touched The Spot, the sensation electric.

‘Don’t panic,’ he murmured. ‘We’re going to take it slowly this time.’

He began an inspired rhythm, stroking and then retreating, until she was hyperventilating for real. But this time she was drawn to the brutal precipice, happy to race towards it and fling herself over. She soared free, sobbing out her release as her whole body splintered apart in a glorious, pyrotechnic explosion.

‘You see? That wasn’t so hard, was it?’ he said, his voice teasing as she buried her head in his neck, her body shaking with the final throes of orgasm.

He smelt delicious, she thought, as a great big silly grin spread across her face. So that was how it was done! She felt as if she’d just conquered the universe.

He framed her face in his hands, looked into her eyes. ‘How about we do that again? Together this time?’

‘Sounds like a plan,’ she said through her grin.

He laughed, pushing the hair behind her ears. ‘I’d take you to bed,’ he said, ‘but we’d never get there in time.’

Shifting away, he pulled his wallet out of his pocket. His hands shook as he got out a small foil packet.

Her gaze dipped to the impressive ridge in his jeans.
Fascinated, she reached forward to run her fingernail down the straining denim. He grasped her wrist, though, and jerked back

‘Better not,’ he said, the husky tone thick with tension. ‘I don’t want to disappoint you.’

She wanted to tell him he couldn’t possibly disappoint her. Didn’t he know she adored him? But then all thoughts fled out of her head as he undid his zip and rolled on the condom. Her thighs tensed, the rush of renewed pleasure stunning her. Had she ever seen anything so magnificent?

He lifted her easily, wrapping his arm under her hips and wedging her back against the wall. ‘Put your legs round my waist.’

She did as he demanded, gasping at the thick intrusion as he eased inside her. She moaned, any discomfort masked by the brutal swell of pleasure.

He grunted, then began to move—a gentle rocking of his hips that took him deeper still. She panted, distressed, as she felt herself losing control again—too fast, too hard.

Again her inexperienced body rebelled and her muscles clenched. The discomfort increased alongside the pleasure. He stilled, lodged inside her. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘I’m sorry—I can’t help it,’ she said.

‘It’s okay,’ he crooned. ‘It feels incredible. But you’re so tight. I don’t want to hurt you.’ He adjusted her weight, his hand easing between them. ‘Let’s try this,’ he said, and his fingers probed. The lightning touch made her cry out as her muscles released in an unstoppable rush.