Symphony In Rapture (12 page)

And at night…Michelle gripped the steering wheel tightly as she remembered the dream that had awakened her the night before. Heat rose in her cheeks at the image of what he’d been doing, whatshe’d been doing. She wanted it. Every bit of it. No matter what it cost her in the long run. Michelle took a deep breath, turned the key in the ignition and backed out into the street. As she made the short drive to his house, she prayed that he would give her a chance to say her piece, rather than slamming the door in her face. She sat up straighter. If he did, she’d just find another way into the house. Hehad to see her. Had to.

Michelle pulled into Nick’s driveway and turned off the engine. She studied the grounds as she worked up the nerve to go to the door. She had not been inside his house since their first meeting. She was amazed at the amount of work that had been done to the outside. The roof had been re-shingled, shutters repaired, stained glass windows and Victorian trims restored. The grounds were now impeccable, the rotted sections of wrought-iron fencing replaced with period reproductions; and the tinkling fountains, ornamental pond and tumbling stream had been revived. The buzz of a weed-eater sounded as a gardener trimmed the hedges near the gate. Taking a deep breath, Michelle finally made herself open the car door and walk up to the porch. She rang the doorbell and watched colorful Koi flitting among the lily pads in a pond near the porch while she waited for an answer.

The door opened, revealing a stranger. “May I help you?” he inquired.

“I was looking for Nicholas Duqaine.” Judging by his demeanor and his dress, the man was obviously a butler or valet of some sort. She hadn’t realized Nick employed any help—they must have already departed for the evening the day she had met him.

“Whom may I say is calling?”

“Michelle Wright.”

“If you’ll wait one moment, please.” The man closed the door. Michelle stood waiting with a pounding heart. She had kind of been counting on seeing Nick herself, to plead her case. Warned, he might simply refuse to see her at all. With determination, Michelle opened the door before her and strode purposefully into the house. She turned to the left and walked down the hall to the music room, thinking that was the most likely place to find him. The room was empty. She returned down the hall, glancing into the open doorways lining it. No Nick.

In the foyer, she paused for a moment and then headed to the right, through a formal dining room into the kitchen. At one end of the kitchen, a brighter, more casual dining area existed, with French doors opening out into the rear garden. Michelle hurried over and stepped out onto the back porch.

Nick was painting a gazebo, taking her breath away in his white shorts and dark blue tank top, bronzed biceps flexing as he brushed paint the color of sunflowers onto an area of decorative carving on one of the arches. She glanced around. The man who had answered the front door was disappearing into the house through a separate rear entrance. Michelle located the porch stairs and stepped down into the garden.

Nick glanced up as he heard footsteps on the path. His heart beat faster as he saw Michelle approaching. Frowning, he set down the paint brush and grabbed a rag suspended from a belt loop, wiping his hands as he studied her.

Michelle halted and swallowed. “Hi,” she said.

“Hi.” Nick was careful to keep his expression smooth and indifferent, his tone flat. He didn’t want her to know how much he’d missed her. How the mere sight of her took his breath away and made his pulse race.

“You weren’t going to see me, were you?”

Nick waited, not answering.

“I came to apologize.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Nick said gruffly. “You were right. We needed a break.”

The tone of his voice alarmed her. “But not a permanent one,” she said.

“No?” Nick drawled contemptuously. Inside, he was gelatin, wanting to take her in his arms and hold her forever.

“No.” Michelle stepped forward. “I’m sorry, Nick. You were right. I was scared.”

Michelle became aware of footsteps approaching as Nick’s eyes flicked toward something behind her. He waved a hand. “Never mind, Dan. It’s all right.” The footsteps retreated. Michelle reached out and touched Nick’s arm.

A drumbeat of need raced along Nick’s nerves. He should send her away, forget now all the crazy ideas he’d had about finding some way around the obstacles of his past to build a life with her.Six weeks! She had made him wait six weeks. But his resistance was melting with her touch. He had dreamed of this, dreamed of her coming to him, offering herself again. Had thought he would spurn her, end this once and for all, but…

Michelle noticed his response. The artery in his neck beat faster, and his color heightened. She moved up the gazebo steps until the tips of her pebble-like nipples just touched his chest. She captured his gaze with her own. Shifting her stance slightly, she brushed his crotch lightly with her belly.

Nick grabbed her upper arms. “I’m not into games,” he growled.

“I’m not playing any,” she said. “I’m ready, Nick. The intensity of our relationship did frighten me, but I’ve thought about it and I’ve dealt with it. I’ve made my decision.” She pressed up against him. “I love you.” He tried to push her away, but she leaned into him, rubbing mercilessly against his bulging crotch. “I do. I’m not asking you to marry me. If that comes, fine. If not, well…I’d rather have a few more months, or weeks…or even days, for that matter, with a man I love, even if it turns out I’m only gathering memories.”

Nick bowed his head, eyes closed.So near . If he pushed her away now, he knew instinctively she wouldn’t come back. All his problems would be solved. But not really. Not the problem of how to live without her. He leaned into her involuntarily. Michelle smiled, knowing she had won. She walked her hands up Nick’s chest, laced her fingers behind his neck. Rising on her tiptoes, she kissed him, gently, chastely. He resisted briefly, but then Nick’s lips parted. Michelle’s tongue stole between them, tasting and tempting. He groaned.

Michelle pushed him back into the gazebo. Deepening the kiss, she unfastened his shorts, pushing them down, exposing his feverish cock. He backed toward the bench and sat. Michelle stripped off her skirt and panties, knowing there were people on the grounds, not caring. She turned, her back to him, and straddled him, as she had in the restaurant, burying his penis in her pussy. Nick groaned again, and wrapped his hands around her waist, pushing her down hard against him. With Nick assisting, she pumped herself up and down on his cock. As she rose and fell, she reached up and pulled her breasts out of her shirt, tickling the tips with her fingers. Nick rested his chin on her shoulder, watching. “Mmmm,” he murmured in her ear. “I like that.”

Michelle grinned wickedly. She brought a finger to his lips. Nick licked it, and she rubbed the moisture on the tip of one nipple. “Oh, yes, baby,” he moaned. He brought one hand away from her waist. He grabbed her breast, pinching the dark aureole so that her nipple stood out like a mountain. Michelle wet her own finger again, and ran it over the peak in rapid circles. “Oh, God,” Nick cried out. He grabbed the other breast with his other hand. Michelle played with her nipples while he watched raptly, grinding her pussy against him.

For Michelle, it was too much—having him watch her touch herself, knowing it was driving him crazy. Her groin tingled and itched. She bent forward, placing her palms against the bench, using the extra leverage to take him deep, hard and fast as her pussy pulsed with a mighty orgasm.

“God, yes!” Nick rasped, and grabbed her waist again, ramming her onto his rod, his hot juices spurting into her.

They sat for several minutes, resting. Finally, Nick whispered into Michelle’s ear, “There are people here, you know.”

Michelle looked back at him, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. “I know.”

Nick groaned, and she laughed. “Come on,” she said. She pushed herself off him and pulled on her skirt and panties. Nick stood and pulled up his shorts and underwear. He leaned over as he fastened his shorts and nibbled at one of Michelle’s exposed nipples. She gasped. He brought his hands up and tucked her breasts into her shirt.

“Come with me.” Michelle took his hand and led him through the house. When they reached the front door and she opened it, he hesitated. He had expected her to ask him where his bedroom was.

“Where are we going?”

“On a picnic.” Michelle had asked Penny for advice about something special to do when she reconciled with Nick. Then she had packed a picnic basket (borrowed from Penny—the real deal, even down to a red-and-white checked picnic blanket) and come over to Nick’s. She had originally planned on enticing him out,then seducing him, but things had worked out just fine this way.

Nick considered for a moment, then nodded. “Give me a minute, I need to let Dan know I’m leaving.”

Michelle nodded. While Nick was gone, she had a sudden thought. She went down the hall to the first-floor bathroom and went inside. She removed her panties and tucked them into the trash. She hadn’t brought her purse in, so she didn’t have anywhere else to stash them.

When Nick returned, she was waiting calmly by the door.

They passed the hour-long drive in pleasant small talk. Michelle didn’t tell Nick exactly where they were going, and he didn’t ask. Penny had suggested that Michelle take him to a place calledRomance Gardens . According to Penny, it was a hundred bucks a head to get in, but it was designed specifically with lovers in mind; with winding trails ending in secluded garden bowers, and a staff well-versed in the art of discreet facilitation of romantic interludes.

When Michelle pulled into the parking lot, Nick quirked an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. They got out, Nick grabbing the picnic basket and blanket. Entry was accomplished through the vestibule of a quaint little cottage surrounded by climbing vines, blooming roses and stately trees. Michelle paid the necessary fee, despite Nick’s protests, and led him into the garden. They wandered slowly about, holding hands, enjoying the sunny spring day, the joyful birdsong. An intoxicating mélange of scents rose from the many varieties of cultivated flowers, wildflowers, and exotic blooms, stirring Nick’s blood. He found himself longing to bury his face in Michelle’s luxuriant hair, to taste her and breathe inher intoxicating scent.

They came to an area dominated by a labyrinth of tall shrubs. Michelle tugged Nick into the opening. After several dead ends and laughing retreats, they rounded a final leafy barrier and found themselves in a large, grassy oasis. A corner fountain carved in the shape of a green man poured forth crystal clear water into a pebble-strewn stream, which meandered across the green expanse and disappeared beneath the bushes. A bank of vivid purple bougainvillea entwined with bright yellow Carolina jessamine ran riot in another corner. A stone bench accented one living wall, and the rest of the space was bare, the perfect spot for their picnic.

Nick smiled when Michelle looked to him questioningly, and set the picnic basket on the ground. He unfolded the blanket and spread it over the soft grass. Michelle knelt and opened the basket. She pulled out the wine keeper—an insulated bag filled with crushed ice, inside which a bottle of wine nestled.

Nick leaned down and grasped the bottle of wine, removed the corkscrew from its loop inside the basket’s lid, and began screwing it into the cork. Michelle set out the remaining provender. She’d chosen to bring the traditional romantic picnic—soft, fresh French bread, purchased hot from the oven that morning at her favorite bakery; generous slices of cheddar and Swiss cheeses; and large, luscious globe grapes, which glistened darkly in the bright sun.

The cork popped, and Michelle held out two plastic wineglasses for Nick to fill. He poured them to the rim, then snugged the bottle back into its case, positioning it upright in a corner of the basket to prevent spillage. Michelle held his glass while he arranged himself across from her on the blanket.

“This looks great,” he said as he retrieved his drink.

“Thank you.” They sipped the wine companionably for a while, then Michelle sighed. “It’s beautiful, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely,” Nick agreed, his eyes devouring Michelle’s lounging form.

Michelle blushed. “Are you enjoying this?”

“Immensely,” he replied, locking her gaze with his as he raised his glass. “To picnics in very lovely gardens—with you,” he said, and Michelle touched her drink to his.

They lounged on their sides, chatting about the weather, the garden, their work, until their glasses were empty. Michelle sat up and began placing the food on their plates. When their platters were full, she set Nick’s in front of him and held hers while she arranged herself, sitting Indian style across from him on the blanket.

Nick ate languidly while he contemplated Michelle. Her chocolate eyes sparkled. Her dark hair gleamed with secret strands of gold, picked out by the sunlight. She had on a loose-woven, form-fitting knit shirt, and Nick could see her hard, ripe nipples through the thin fabric. He tried to ignore the molten river that began to course through him. He had been in a frenzy of frustrated longing for six weeks. To lie here, across from her, the breeze blowing her musky scent over, around, and through him—was a sort of bittersweet torture.

Michelle watched Nick clandestinely, peeking at him from beneath lowered lashes. He was eying her chest. She saw his pupils dilate as he studied her eager nipples, straining against her clothing. His nostrils flared, and she knew he could smell her—the scent of her desire wafting in the air.

She had worn avery short skirt, and now adjusted herself slightly, so that the fabric crept up her thigh a little more. Setting down her own plate, she reached out, picking up a plump grape, then leaned over and held it to Nick’s lips.

Nick opened his mouth and took the grape, catching one of her fingers gently in his teeth, sucking lightly on the fingertip. Her breathing quickened and a faint rose flush entered her cheeks.

She leaned back. Her skirt, which he had noticed earlier revealed quite a generous expanse of creamy white thigh, crawled a bit higher. As she retrieved her plate, a stray shaft of sunlight pierced the gloom between her legs, illuminating her naked, swollen pussy. Nick drew in a sharp breath. Michelle met his gaze boldly. Goosebumps pricked her skin at the look in his eyes.