A Sip of You (The Epicurean Series) (7 page)

It had been a while since I’d worked out in a pool, but after a few laps, my body relaxed and I focused on the repetition of my movements. I must have been swimming for the better part of an hour when I surfaced and spotted William sitting in a chair just a few feet from the edge of the pool.
Finally
, I thought. I was relieved, and excited too.

I wiped my eyes, half expecting him to be a mirage. My heart was already pounding from exertion, but it beat even harder from seeing him in the flesh. He was sprawled in the lounge chair, wearing the same shirt and pinstriped trousers I last saw him in. The sleeves of his pressed shirt were rolled to the elbows, the top buttons undone, and his tie loosened. He held a highball in his hand, and his dark eyes watched me intently, like a hungry lion quietly watching his prey. I was more than ready to be caught.

He looked so good I had to remind myself to continue treading water. I could see the stress of the day on his face, but somehow it only made his chiseled features more handsome. His hair blew lightly in the breeze, and he sipped from the highball, his gaze hot on mine.

I didn’t know why he was keeping me at a distance or where he had been all day, but the way he looked at me, the yearning in his expression, pulled at me even more acutely than any words he might have spoken could have. He needed me.

And I needed him.

Without another thought, I swam to the side of the pool, hoisted myself up, and left a trail of water as I walked over to his chair. The air was cool, but the heaters kept the pool area warm, and I didn’t even grab a towel to dry off before I straddled him. I didn’t want to talk.

With a smile, he sipped from the highball. “Nice suit.”

I cocked my head. “Where’s yours?”

“I don’t really need one, now do I?” His free hand was splayed across my bare back, steadying me on his lap. Slowly, his fingers crawled up my slick flesh to the strings holding my bikini top in place, first the tie around my back and then the tie around my neck. Slowly he pulled at each one and the scrap of fabric fell away in a wet heap on the ground beside us.

My nipples puckered from both exposure and his hot gaze. Keeping that gaze on me, he raised the glass filled with amber liquid—bourbon, I guessed—and rubbed it across my hard nipple. I sucked in a shallow breath. The cold glass was a sharp contrast to my skin, which was still warm from the heated water, and my nipple pebbled painfully tighter.

“Cold?” he asked.

“A little.”

“Let me warm you up.”

My eyes never left his as he dipped two fingers in his drink then swirled them around my nipple until the amber liquid dripped onto my stomach. I could smell the heady aroma of the liquor and feel the warmth of it on my skin. William set the glass on the table, leaned forward, and lapped the bourbon from my breast and belly, heat blasting through me as his thick tongue burned a trail across my wet flesh. When he’d caught every drop, he took my now aching peak in his mouth and sucked long and hard. I moaned. “Oh God, William. Please.” My voice was deep and husky, and I felt a rush of heat between my legs.

“Please what, Catherine? More?” He dipped a finger in his drink again and brought it to my other nipple, then his mouth was back on me and he bit down ever so gently on my hard point. I moaned again, louder this time, and then arched my back and pushed myself toward him.   

He was breathing hard and I felt his urgency as his hands went to the ties on each side of my bikini bottoms. A moment later those were also released and the swathe of fabric was on the ground. I was naked and still straddling him on the deck chair. Heat swirled and pulsed where our bodies touched. I wanted his hands on me so badly.

Then his mouth was back, kissing me gently above my breasts and up my neck. I felt the scruff of his beard scratching against my skin and his hot breath close to my ear, which gave me goose bumps all over before he pulled me hard toward him and crushed his lips against mine. His tongue invaded my mouth, hot and probing, and my entire body responded to his kiss. I was wet from the pool, but wet and swollen with arousal now too. I could hear myself making rough sounds of pleasure as our tongues danced and William’s large hands gripped my ass and ground me firmly against his hard cock.

I knew where this was going, and I wanted it to go there. My body was begging to go there, begging me to open the button on his bulging trousers and take him inside me with long, hot, hard strokes. But I hadn’t forgotten he had completely abandoned me today, hadn’t texted or called, and hadn’t even answered his phone when I called him. And now that he was back, it was all about sex again.

His hands moved from my ass and rested on my thighs, and I covered them with my hands to keep him from moving inward. His gaze met mine, and I saw the question in his eyes.

My heart was beating so hard I could barely speak, but I managed to say, “I didn’t think you’d be gone so long today.”

He didn’t attempt to free his hands, but he did rub his fingers in small circles on the bare skin of my thighs, which seem to shoot little sparks of electricity straight to my clit. I tried not to squirm. “Neither did I. The meetings went longer than expected.”

“What sort of meetings were they?” I asked, still breathless. “Work or Wyatt or something else?”

He looked away. I wasn’t surprised. He was back in vintage William Lambourne mode—his version of don’t ask, don’t tell. “A little of this and a little of that,” he finally said.

His hands were distracting me, but I wasn’t going to let this go. I wanted to say
I came all the way from Chicago to be with you, and on the first day, you take off for fourteen hours. I think I deserve more than a cursory answer.
But instead I just looked at him and didn’t say a thing. I let my silence do the talking.

We sat there for a minute or two, not saying anything. Then his eyes, an icy blue, met mine. “It’s nothing that concerns you. If it did, I would share it. Please know that.”

I blinked, stunned. I started to wriggle to move off of his lap but he clamped his hands down hard on my legs and held me in place.

“Catherine, you have to trust me. There are some things I can’t discuss. You’re safe here. The security team is here. Everything is fine, and there’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“You were with her, weren’t you?” I asked. I had no idea where
that
accusation came from. I didn’t even know I was going to say it, but the image of the dark-haired woman at the airport, who I hadn’t thought about at all today, just popped into my head. I remembered the two of them together on the tarmac, the way she’d placed her hand possessively on his arm. The way she’d ‘accidentally’ brushed her breast against him when they stood beside one another.

William’s eyebrows came together. “With who?”

I don’t know what was wrong with me. It was like my mouth was on autopilot and I couldn’t
not
keep going since I saw her so vividly in my head. “That woman you met at the airport. The one who couldn’t keep her hands off you.” Maybe it was my imagination, but I thought I saw a flicker of guilt in his eyes.

He took a moment to reply and when he did, his response was careful and measured, which of course I noticed. “She was with me today, but not in the way you seem to think.”

“So
she
can know what’s going on, but not me?”

“Catherine.” His voice turned soothing, velvet and warm, and he was back to breathing normally. I was impressed that he could compose himself so quickly given that I was naked and straddling him right out in the open on his pool deck. Anyone could have walked out and seen us. “There is nothing going on between Anya and me. She’s an old friend and occasional business associate. That’s all.”

“And her name is Anya?”

“Anya Pierce. She’s not your rival. You have no rivals.” His hand traveled up my thigh to cup my hip. The soft stroke of his fingers forced me to take a shaky breath. I wasn’t quite sure Anya Pierce was nothing to William, but it was also true he was here with me now.

“I’m yours, Catherine,” he said quietly. “I don’t want anyone else.”

Suddenly I felt possessive of him. Very possessive. His gorgeous eyes, now liquid and all but silver; the toned and muscled body I knew was under his clothes; the face that looked almost Photoshopped. All of that was mine. And I wanted him to know it.

I reached up and stripped off his tie. I tossed it on the ground beside my wet suit. It was probably a five hundred dollar tie, but I didn’t care. Next was his shirt. I flicked the buttons open and slid my hands inside. My fingers roved over his sculpted chest and shoulders, enjoying all the hard ridges and planes he worked so hard to tone.

I glanced up at his face, and saw he watched me intently. He was exercising restraint, allowing me to have my way with him. He was letting
me
take control, but he clearly knew that at any moment he could touch me, and I’d melt and forget about everything but the pleasure. Before that could happen, I put my hands between my legs and grabbed his slim leather belt, unfastening it and then the button of his trousers. His cock was hard and waiting, and with a slight urging down of his zipper and a push of fabric, I held it in my hands.

I slid my fingers down, enjoying the length of him and the way the veins pulsed with need for me. I angled my hips and spread my legs. My folds were slick and I wanted him to see. William’s hands tensed on my legs, and his hardness jumped in my hand.

“You’re killing me right now,” he said, his voice hoarse.

Something about the sound of his voice, the raw emotion in it, was my undoing. I was still angry at him for leaving me today and hurt about all he wouldn’t share with me, but this was something he would share. He would share his body—fully and completely. In these moments, he was mine. He needed me. And I needed him.

I slid forward, guiding his cock where I wanted it, but he stopped me and motioned me to stand. I did so, slowly and with my legs trembling in anticipation. I wondered what he had in mind, but he merely motioned for me to turn around. His hands slid to my inner thighs and pushed them apart so I straddled him again. Then he pulled me down so my back was against his chest. I could feel his hardness pressing against me. “Ride me like this.” His direction came out rough and raw.

Of all the ways we’d come together, this one was new. My breath caught in my throat as a wave of arousal hit me hard. His hands on my hips guided me, sliding my ass along his abs until he settled me over his cock, his tip hot and hard and pulsing at my entrance. Slowly, I took him in, enjoying the feel of every solid inch of him sliding into me. I was so achingly full that I gasped, but still there was more of him. When I was fully seated on him, I cried out with pleasure. I was ready to come from just the feel of him filling me, and my legs were twitching and trembling. I wasn’t sure how long I could go like this, but William’s strong hands held me by the hips and guided my movements.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he murmured. “God, don’t stop.”

He helped move my hips up then down as I took him, and one of his hands moved up my abdomen to my chest. I had to lean back to keep my balance, which had the added effect of pushing my breasts into his hand. He cupped them, stroked them, and then brushed his palm over my sensitive nipples. “Deeper,” he urged me as his hand circled one nipple then the other, making them harden and heat.

“I don’t think I can,” I breathed, concentrating on my balance and now so close to orgasm I could hardly speak.

“Deeper, Catherine,” he said, nudging my legs farther apart. I rose up and then slid down again, taking him so deep I didn’t think I could stretch any farther. My legs were noticeably shaking now. I could feel every ridge, every swollen inch of him inside of me. I could feel my sex tightening and gripping him so hard, but before I could come around that glorious cock, William murmured, “Not yet,” in my ear.

“No, no, I can’t, I can’t wait,” I protested. I was riding him and my body was poised and oh so ready to let go.

“Not yet,” he rasped again in my ear.

The orgasm that was right there slipped just out of reach. I couldn’t go over the edge. Not without his consent. I groaned and rode him faster and harder, frantic with desire.

Slowly, as though he wasn’t equally as close—but I could feel exactly how close he was and I knew he couldn’t hold back for much longer—his hands slid down my body until one rested on my hip and the other cupped my sex, just above where we were joined. His finger touched our hot, wet union and came away slick. Then he parted my folds and found my clit. I shuddered as he caressed me, while his cock filled me from behind. I couldn’t think. I could only feel the waves of ecstasy radiating through me with every hard stroke. William’s finger circled my clit until I was moaning and begging him. My words didn’t even make sense. I was beyond pleasure now. The pool, the cool breeze, the sounds of the cool California night were gone. There was only William and me, and the universe of his filling me, bringing me closer and closer to a climax I knew would shatter me.

My hands went to my breasts, plucking at my nipples, and my head fell back against his shoulder as I took him viciously. He was slicked with sweat, his muscles tense with restraint. “Oh God, Catherine,” he finally moaned. “Come for me.” His finger pressed harder against my engorged clit, and his cock swelled even more as the first gush of semen pushed against my walls.

My body responded instantly, shaking violently as wave after shuddering wave crashed through me. I could make no sound at all—I could only feel, only take what he gave me, take more and more of him as I clutched him over and over again. And then it was over, and I was so weak I all but collapsed. William’s strong arms caught me, and he turned me around, holding me against him, stroking my hair, and shushing me.

God, I loved him so much. My heart was still thundering in my ears as I clung to him, relishing in the warmth of my bare skin pressed against his. I felt complete in his arms and never wanted to leave them. Part of me wanted to tell him, right now, how I felt. But part of me didn’t want to break the silence of the moment, which was somehow perfect as we held each other tightly, so many things between us unsaid but not unfelt. He needed me. And I needed him.