Leaning to one side, she opened up the top drawer of the night stand and pulled out a condom. She ripped off the foil, then grabbed his cock. For a moment he was content to let her stroke him, until a small bead of pre-cum appeared.
“Now.” His command more a plea.
Rolling the condom on, she positioned herself above him. His back bowed off the bed when he felt the first slide of her tight heat onto his erection. He let his head fall back and eyes close as she took control.
She rocked upon him, bearing her hands on his chest and taking him deep inside. Unable to not touch her, he opened his eyes and grabbed her ass, helping her ride him.
White teeth bit down on her bottom lip as she moved, seemingly holding back any verbal response.
He slid his fingers between her curls, where she was hot, swollen and wet. Crying out, she rocked faster, her breasts bouncing and her hair flowing down her back.
She shoved his hand away. “No.”
“Yes.” He’d be damned if he’d let her satisfy him only.
Pushing her off of him and down onto the quilts, he buried his head between her thighs. She tensed, shivered and let out a small moan. Knit stockings rubbed his back when he placed her legs over his shoulders and spread her wider, seeking to have his fill.
Over and over, he licked and sucked at her, reveling in her taste and scent. How could he have not known this was the woman he’d been searching for? She tasted uniquely Zoe. Undeniably his.
He stiffened his tongue and plunged it inside, then stroked his thumb across that swollen part of her. She moaned louder than before, her fingers tugging at his hair. He stroked her again. Her entire body trembled, her nipples tightened to hard points and she cried out his name. The sweetest sound he thought he’d never hear again.
Flipping her over, Christian mounted her from behind and sank deep inside. Hot. Wet. Tight. He drove deeper, utterly consumed by her. She filled his empty body. His heart. His soul.
She gripped the footboard, her knuckles whitening. Convinced he was being too rough, he stopped. She made a sound of frustration and pushed back on him. “No…don’t!”
“Never.” He steadied her hips in his hands and surged inside. Once, twice, a third and then a fourth and final time when his own orgasm claimed him. “I love you, Zoe. I never stopped,” he managed to say. “I’m not leaving you ever again. Not tomorrow. Not next year. Not fifty years from now.”
Chapter Thirty
Zoe wanted to believe him, wanted to be confident in his words, but it was difficult.
Raw pain resided in her heart and soul. Still, she had made a conscious decision to have sex with him. As if on some idiot quest to make him leave. To prove that he was exactly the heartless playboy actor the world knew him to be.
But it had turned into something more. It had turned into making love.
The mattress dipped as he moved away from her, heading to the bathroom. She dropped to her side, tracing the pattern on the quilt at the end of her bed.
“It worries me to see a woman thinking so hard and so long without speaking,” Christian said teasingly, his eyes seemingly full of love, as he approached the bed. Their icy veneer had melted and his entire demeanor was relaxed. As if he knew she was his. That she had succumbed to him. Once again.
“Afraid I was comparing you to Gabriel?”
His perfect mouth twisted. “There’s absolutely no danger of that.”
“I slept with him when I came home,” she said, trying to hurt him with a lie. Just leave already, she wanted to scream, then guilt assailed her. This was so not her.
“You were alone on Palm Island.”
“How did you know?” Outrage filled her, chasing away the guilt. “You were spying on me?” Well, that would explain the two men she had seen walking up and down the mostly empty cul-de-sac her family’s beach house sat on, day after day.
“Gotta protect my assets.” He reached for her, but she scooted away.
“Of course you do. That stupid post nuptial I signed had an adultery clause. Too bad it didn’t extend to you.” Sliding from the bed, she grabbed her robe and headed to her office.
“I have not been with anyone else. From the moment I rammed into you at the airport, I have only been with you.” His heavy footsteps sounded behind her. “Besides, there’s no way in hell we would have had sex if you didn’t believe me.”
True, but she wouldn’t admit it. She slammed the door, not bothering to lock it.
“That doesn’t mean I want to continue this relationship.” After flipping on the lights, she started up her laptop and turned on the printer.
“Let me in, Zoe,” came his terse command.
She ignored him, searching through her email, until she found what she wanted and hit the print button. She grabbed a pen and waited for the last page to pop out of the printer.
The door opened.
He strode in, took one look at the pen in her hand and snatched it away. It landed on the floor and rolled under the bookshelf near it. He grabbed the sheets of paper from the tray and began to slowly tear them in two directions, his eyes boring into hers as he did.
“There’s not going to be an annulment.”
She crossed her arms. “I’ll divorce you,” she threatened, her heart not in it.
White pieces flew in the air like confetti at a New Year’s Eve party. “The hell you will. I love you. You love me and that’s all we need.”
“This isn’t one of your movies. You can’t just show up, quasi-quote a Beatles’ lyric to me and expect things will go back to the way they were before,” she said, stepping back when he took a step forward. “I don’t trust you or your reasons for being here.”
“Give me the chance to prove that I’m trustworthy, that I am here for us,” he said, surprising her with the quiet intensity of his voice. “One month. That’s all I’m asking.”
“You didn’t last two days being married to me.”
His jaw worked and eyes glittered in the light. “Please, Zoe.”
“Please what? Please forgive you for not being able to handle a relationship like a gown man? For throwing my love for you back in my face? For cutting me into pieces—again? For not attempting to talk to me about that day?”
“For all of that and more.” There were no explanations. No excuses. No trying to pawn his behavior off on her. His honesty was the one thing that could convince her to take another chance.
“Fine,” she said, turning to leave the room. “The guest room has clean sheets.”
“Not so fast, sweetheart. I fully expect you to participate in this. That means you treat me like your husband, your lover and your friend. If you still can’t see us together at the end, then you can tell me to leave. I’ll give you whatever you want. Annulment. Divorce. Whatever.”
“What about Gabriel?” She turned to face him, unable to believe what he was saying or offering.
“What about Gabriel?” he repeated, sounding so smug that she uncrossed her arms and threw them out in frustration, smacking a picture off of her desk.
Glass cracked and shattered all over the smooth wood floors. She let out a horrified cry, bending down to pick up the pieces. “Good Lord, I just lose it around you.” A jagged piece stabbed in her fingers. “Dammit!” They started to throb and bleed. She quickly stuffed them in her mouth.
“Are you trying to bleed to death?” Christian grabbed her by the elbow and directed her to the hall bathroom. He pointed at the toilet. “Sit.”
He looked through the vanity cabinet, muttering to himself about wrapping her in bubble wrap and never letting her leave the house.
Zoe bit her lip as he cleaned each cut, making small noises as the antiseptic burned. Well, she wasn’t buying that stuff again. The label clearly read that it was pain free. False advertising at its finest. Okay, maybe she didn’t really read the label that closely, because pretty soon the throbbing was gone and Christian was wrapping cartoon character band-aids around her fingers.
“Those are for my niece.”
“SmithAnn, right?” Christian asked, cleaning up the counter. “Her favorite is the sparkly unicorn that sings.”
“How did you know?” Surely that wasn’t on her background check.
He gave her a tender smile before checking her other hand. “I saw the DVDs in your collection.”
“What else did you see?” She closed her eyes for a moment as she thought about all the movies he’d starred in lined up along the shelves of the entertainment center.
“An endless supply of what’s his face. You women are incredibly solidified in your pirate fantasies.” His blonde hair gleamed under the soft lights of her bathroom. His skin looked darker than before and he had a small scar on his shoulder.
“How did you get hurt?” she asked, touching the jagged line, then moving him into the light to see it better.
“Burma. Happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.” She let her hands fall. He really had been there. Just like he said. “So is it working?”
“What?” she asked, completely confused by his question.
He led her back to her bedroom. “The Florence Nightingale thing you told me about.”
“But I wasn’t there to take care of you when this happened.” She gestured to the fading scar.
He lifted her hand and kissed the palm. “I’m here to take care of you.”
She sucked in a breath. Oh, this was so stupid. So completely fool hardy but she would take the chance. “I’m not going to make it easy for you.”
He gave her a wicked smile, untying her robe and sliding his hands inside. “As if I’d expect anything else, but I’m aiming to win.” He pushed it over her shoulders, cool air hitting her skin and making her shiver.
“What are you doing?” she asked, knowing full well what was going to happen between them. And she was eager for it. For him.
Loving Christian with her body was the easy part. It was surrendering her heart that was brutal. One month. She could outlast him for that long. She could put up the highest of barriers between them and wrap it in thorns. There was no way he’d bother climbing them if he was being satisfied in other areas.
He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her close. “Making love to my wife.”
Chapter Thirty-One
The next morning brought a Carolina sunrise and blue skies. A blurry one-eyed look at her clock told her it was oh-my-God-o’clock. She snuggled deeper under the covers, tentatively searching for Christian with her toes.
“Still here,” he said, his voice smooth and deep.
“I wasn’t looking for you.”
Zoe yelped as large hands grabbed her. His body made contact with hers. It was very male, very muscular and –she wiggled her butt against his groin—very aroused. Her traitorous body responded by getting all tingly in anticipation.
Last night he’d made her come so many times, she’d lost count. But she did know that every time he reached for her, she was already reaching for him. Holding him close and wrapping herself around his lean body.
He rose over her, eyes crinkling at the corners. His tan shoulders gleamed in the morning sun as its rays highlighted the room through lacy curtains. “Such a shame, because I’ve been looking for you for years.”
Her heart did slammed against her chest as he bent down to kiss her. “You should’ve looked harder.”
“You should’ve told me your real name,” he murmured against her lips. Then he sat back, taking her with him so that her head lay on his chest. “Is there any other time we’ve met?”
“Well, there was this one time at band camp,” she said and then snorted. His chest shook as he laughed with her.
His muscular arms tightened around her. “The sun is shining, my beautiful wife is in my arms—nude, mind you—and my feet are warm. This is actually the best morning I’ve had in a month.”
“Me, too,” she whispered against his warm skin, tracing the rose tattoo on his pectoral with a sparkly unicorn covered fingertip.
If only she could be sure he’d stay this time. Heck, if she could only be sure he wasn’t using her to make up for bad press. She hated the old adage of only time will tell, because she was sick of waiting on a man. But this time he was waiting on her decision of whether he stayed or would be given his walking papers.
“I’d like for you to wear my ring again,” he said, his fingers sifting through her hair.
That was the worst possible thing for him to say. Every time he’d ever given her jewelry, they ended up apart. She sat up, wincing as the long strands got tangled up in his fingers. “No.”
He cupped his hands around her shoulders, stopping her from leaving. “Will you think about it?”
“I need to take a shower.” Pushing away the covers, she hopped out of bed and ran like a coward to bathroom.
Breathing deeply, she turned on the sink and splashed cold water on her face. The light spilling through the picture window caught her eye and she stared, watching as hummingbirds and butterflies flitted from flower to flower. The room was cold and goose bumps appeared on her legs, chest and arms. She rubbed her arms vigorously, wondering how she was going to keep an emotional distance from him. Twice last night she’d been tempted to blurt out that she loved him.
“Zoe?”
She shoved the shower handle from cold to hot. Water cascaded to the sea glass covered floor. “I’m busy right now.”
“I wanted you to know that I have to leave.”
“Of course you do,” she muttered. Why should he stay? But the familiar pain threatened to overwhelm her. She had been so stupid. So…