Blazing Bedtime Stories (20 page)

M
OMENT OF TRUTH
time, Gareth thought as he flipped the final switch, sending power to all the various lights and fountains throughout the finished grotto and pool area. He’d been checking each one individually all along, but this was the first time the entire system had been tested as a whole. The fountains burbled to life, cascading over fieldstone and granite, bits of moss and fern, and the lights danced beneath the mist-covered waters, giving off an almost other-worldly glow.

It was just past eight o’clock on Thursday night—a bolt of anticipation quickened his pulse, thinking about what was to come—and his weary crew gave a whoop of joy when everything worked as planned.

Gareth grinned. “Congratulations on another job well done, guys,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck as they picked up their equipment and started to leave. He’d promised them a share in his expected bonus and given them the next day off. Lord knows they deserved it. He and his crew had logged in sixteen-plus-hour days to get to this point and, though it had been to meet Highgrove’s deadline, Gareth had imposed a secret one that had increasingly become more important than his actual client’s.

He’d wanted to get finished at a decent hour so that he could celebrate with Juliet. On the pretense of making sure everything worked right, he’d brought his overnight bag and bathing suit—and had told her to do the same. It was time to give the sex grotto a test run.

Tonight. With Juliet.

In fact, ever since last Thursday when they’d planned this so called camp out at Highgrove’s, Gareth could honestly say that the only things that had saved his sanity were the long hours, and the backbreaking, exhausting work he’d put into this project. If he’d spent too
long thinking about this evening with Juliet, he wasn’t altogether certain his body could have withstood the stress of the anticipation.

He thought he’d wanted before, thought he’d known true desire.

He’d been wrong.

This past week, sitting across a table from Juliet, feeling his body quicken with need every time he looked at her—the smooth slope of her cheek, the way those ripe lips closed around her fork, those keen dark eyes perpetually sparkling with humor—had taught him that, until her, he hadn’t known a thing about true desire. In the past, that sexual pull had been a purely physical sensation, concentrated below his waist.

This was different.

This was a hammering need in his blood which pounded against his heart, letting loose with every blow an emotion he dared not name, making it all the more intense, yet all the more desperate.

He didn’t just want her—he had to have her. To keep her. He felt as if his very life depended on making her his. And of course, since he was a man, nothing would make him feel more as though he’d succeeded than burying himself as quickly as possible between her thighs. But he knew that wasn’t enough. Still, his physical need was the only damned part of this newfound attraction and desperate desire which made any sense at all.

Simply looking at Juliet made something in his chest swell and tighten and his fingers twitched with the perpetual urge to touch her. She was smart and funny, insightful and heartbreakingly insecure. He hated that for her. Hated that she couldn’t see how truly beautiful she was. Of course, though he’d been attracted to her, he hadn’t seen it as plainly as he did now, so it was no wonder she was confused over what she saw in the mirror every morning.

He wanted to fix that for her, Gareth thought. He wanted to make her see what he did. Because to him, she was utterly perfect.

Gareth’s gaze slid to the French doors leading into the boudoir, where Juliet was framed in the paneled glass, and something in his chest gave a little squeeze. She stood in the middle of the room, apparently inspecting her work, her ripe lips closed around the end of a paintbrush. How many times this past week had he caught her like that and wished her mouth was wrapped around something else?
he wondered, his dick twitching in his pants. With her hair pulled up in a clip, a paint smudge on her cheek, she was in full-on artist mode.

Because he hadn’t been able to help himself, he’d taken a look during various stages of her work throughout the past week. He’d actually been afraid that she would finish early and ruin their spend-the-night plans. But thankfully—at least for him because he was a selfish bastard—she’d stumbled a bit at the end.

The “Beauty and the Beast,” “Little Red Riding Hood” and the lush garden scenes had all come together without a hitch, but “The Ugly Duckling” had presented a problem. “I can’t seem to get a grasp on it,” she’d told him yesterday, a worried frown lining her otherwise smooth brow.

Gareth had assured her that she would. But given the critical expression she now wore, it didn’t appear as if that had happened yet. He sidled to the doors and gently rapped on the glass. Maybe a new set of eyes could offer some fresh perspective.

S
TILL AGONIZING
over “The Ugly Duckling” mural—something was off, but she’d be damned if she could figure out exactly what—Juliet started and her gaze flew to the French doors, where one obviously tired but endearingly sexy Gareth stood. Her heart gave a little leap and an instant smile spread over her lips.

God help her, she was so far gone.

This couldn’t possibly end well.

She knew that, knew that it was a miracle that she’d ever caught his attention to start with. But keeping it up on a permanent basis? It was utterly out of the question. She didn’t dare even let herself think about it.

But she wasn’t going to think about that tonight, or even tomorrow when they went to the prom. Another little jolt of glee shot through her. She’d think about it all later, after she’d selfishly basked in the anomaly of his interest and had her wicked way with him. She’d brought her overnight bag and her bathing suit, as he’d instructed, and was prepared to fully embrace a single night of unrepentant passion. She deserved it, dammit. Furthermore, she didn’t think she could stop herself even if she’d wanted to. And she didn’t, but…

Mercy, the man did something that made her insides turn to total
goo. Better still,
tingly
goo. A mere quirk of that lopsided smile, a lone look from those beautifully sexy green eyes and she became a moaning, panting puddle of lust. Every minute she spent with him left her all the more enchanted, all the more attached and all the more desperate. Each lingering look—and Lord knows he’d given her more than a few of those over the past week—each long kiss, every second spent wrapped in his arms had made her anticipate this evening with him all the more.

Unfortunately, while she was technically finished with the room, she wasn’t satisfied with “The Ugly Duckling.”

Gareth came up behind her and massaged her tense shoulders, his big hands warm and wonderful. “Problem?”

She winced. “I’m finished,” she said, “just not altogether happy with this wall.”

Gareth stared at the painting for a minute, then glanced around the room at the other walls. “It looks great,” he said hesitantly.

“But?” Juliet prodded, glad that he hadn’t tried to gloss over her concern with some sort of generic platitude. She knew he had a good eye. After all, he was an artist of sorts as well.

He cocked his head, studying it more thoroughly, then shook his head and gave her an uncertain smile. “But…I don’t know. The execution is perfect. The whole mirror and reflection element is very evocative. I love the way you’ve painted her reflection in the water, with her hero over her shoulder so that you know you’re seeing her through his eyes. She’s this beautiful swan-like creature. Very sensual. Very lovely.” He gave his head a small shake. “But something about her doesn’t feel right. I don’t know what it is exactly. It’s almost like she doesn’t buy it. She doesn’t believe that she’s gorgeous, sexy even.” He chuckled softly and sent her an apologetic smile. “That probably didn’t make a bit of sense. Sorry.”

Juliet stilled and studied the woman she’d painted. It was in her eyes, just the slightest hint of doubt. Gareth was right, she realized. “Actually, I think you might be onto something.” She wasn’t entirely sure how to fix it, but she did believe that he’d discovered the problem. Her swan needed an attitude adjustment. And it was because she suffered from it herself. Despite every evidence to the contrary, she still couldn’t quite make herself believe that Gareth truly wanted her, that she was anything less than the ugly duckling she’d always been.

“Glad I could help,” he said. “I’m going to go take a quick shower.” He pressed a kiss against her neck, sending a flurry of gooseflesh down her back. “Let me know when you’re finished.”

Her heart was finished the day he’d kissed her, Juliet realized, her belly becoming a muddled mass of jittery heat. She watched him stroll from the room, his big shoulders draped with a confidence that she envied.

With a sigh, Juliet looked back at the painting and tried to think of some way to make her duckling-turned-swan appreciate her own appeal. When none came, she signed her name in an inconspicuous corner and deemed her day complete. The sound of the shower reached her ears.

Warm, wet naked skin. Broad, muscled shoulders, fluted spine. Bare chest, dusted with auburn curls…

Juliet released a shuddering breath, snagged her bathing suit from her bag and made for the pool.

Her day might be finished, but it was
far
from over.

H
IS SWAN
was in the pool.

Gareth stood at the door and watched her for a moment a tight feeling crowding into his chest as she glided effortlessly through the water. She wore a modest white two-piece bathing suit, one of those that covered her middle, but left her back bare. Her legs were long, toned and strong and it was obvious that she was truly in her element in the water. Utterly graceful. Not that she wasn’t all the time, but something about the way she moved through the pool was eerily reminiscent of her last name. She swam beautifully. Desire stirred in his loins as she flipped over onto her back and floated in the warm water. Her full breasts thrust up and she lazily swung her arms back and forth over her head, then along her side. She barely made a splash. Just floated along an invisible current all her own.

Unable to stand there any longer, Gareth ventured outside and dove in to join her, the heated water cool against his skin. He opened his eyes and surfaced right in front her and without waiting, without the slightest bit of hesitation, he did what he’d been dying to do all day. He bracketed her face with his hands and slanted his lips over hers. He kissed her long and deep, slowly backing her beneath the cascading waterfall and into the grotto. He’d been patient. He’d waited.

Waiting was no longer an option.

With a soft eager groan her arms came up and wrapped around his neck, her legs around his waist. His dick jutted against her, instinctively recognizing the unspoken act for what it was—an invitation to come inside her body.

And he fully intended to. As swiftly as possible.

The grotto was warm and welcoming, a hedonistic cave he’d built with his own two hands. Better that he should enjoy it first, Gareth thought. After all, Highgrove would have it to himself every
night afterwards. He was testing it, Gareth told himself. Making sure it would live up to Highgrove’s expectations.

He backed Juliet into one of the small seating areas and rocked hard against her. “Do you have any idea how desperately I want you?” he asked her, his voice as tortured as the rest of his body.

Juliet slid her hands over his chest, gently abrading his nipples with her fingernails. “I h-hope it’s as much as I w-want you,” she said, a hint of nervousness in her breathy voice. She licked a path down the side of his neck, then kissed the underside of his jaw, making his flesh prickle and burn. A hiss slipped from between his clenched teeth. He bent his head, nudged the cup of her bathing suit aside and suckled the perfect tip of her rosy breast. The taste of her danced over his tongue, making him groan with pleasure.

Juliet gasped, a sound of delight that resonated directly in his loins. He reached up and carefully, slowly pulled the tie of her bathing suit from behind her neck, then smiled against her nipple as the fabric came free. “Lovely,” he murmured thickly as her creamy skin came into view. “So damned beautiful.”

She tensed. “You don’t have to say those things,” Juliet said. “Really.”

Gareth paused. He looked up and his gaze caught hers. “I know I don’t have to say them,” he told her. “I want to say them. Because they’re true.” He didn’t touch her, merely pinned her with a sincere gaze, laying bare how he felt about her. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Juliet.” He bent forward and kissed the tip of her nose. “To me, you are perfect.”

A soft melting look came into her eyes, twin pools of dark emotion and a slow wavering smile slid over her lips. “Thank you,” she said, her voice a bit shaky. “I think you’re pretty damned perfect as well.”

Gareth grinned at her. “You know what else I think is going to be perfect?” he asked, sliding a finger determinedly down her belly.

“Wh-what?”

“Us. Together.”

He trailed a finger over her mound and smiled at the immediate catch in her breathing. Then he lifted her up over the side of the pool, where she landed on the oversized beach towel he’d placed there earlier today. Smiling at him, Juliet rolled over, making room for him as he quickly slid out of the water as well.

Rather than jump immediately onto her, Gareth allowed his gaze to drift over her, a slow, lengthy perusal, drinking her in. Telling her she was beautiful was one thing—proving it to her was going to take much more attention to detail.

Starting now.

He bent and slid his tongue over her collarbone, tasting the beads of moisture which had collected in the delicate hollow, then tasted a path over her shoulder, up the side of her neck, and found her mouth. She was open and ready, rolling into him, her hot wet flesh branding him where it touched. Want sizzled along his nerve endings, heat flared in an instant, burning up good intentions, charring anything remotely resembling restraint. Her hands were suddenly all over him. Sliding over his shoulders and down his back, tugging at the waist of his trunks, then slipping beneath to where his eager dick practically leapt into her waiting palm.

Gareth bit back a groan as she slid her hand up and down over his slippery skin. He hardened to the point of pain, felt his balls draw up, the impending orgasm gather in the back of his loins.

Not now, dammit. Not before he’d been inside her.

Gareth snagged a condom from the edge of the blanket, stripped off his trunks and carefully slid the protection into place. Juliet had slithered out of her bikini bottoms and kicked them to the side.

Concave belly, long graceful limbs, plump rosy-tipped breasts, and a dark thatch of curls that dared him to try and take it slowly.

A shudder worked its way through him and he swallowed hard as he positioned himself between her thighs. She arched her hips in welcome, her dark eyes heavy-lidded and desperate, yet still just the slightest bit unsure. Bare, but scared, he realized.

He bent forward and kissed her, twined his fingers through hers, then pushed slowly into her. Lights burst behind his lids and a feeling of utter contentment washed through him as he seated himself firmly inside her. He drew back, shaken, then plunged once again.

“You—”

He thrust again, rocking forward, watched her mouth open in silent pleasure.

“—are—”

He pushed again, tightening his fingers around hers, desperate to stem the flow of heat pounding through his veins.

“—beautiful,” he finished. Then, unable to control himself for another minute, he grabbed her hips and plunged in and out of her, back and forth, harder and deeper. He couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t bury himself far enough into her. He had to—He needed—

J
ULIET LOCKED
her legs around Gareth’s waist, bent forward and licked a male nipple. He pounded harder, pushing her closer and closer to the edge of mindlessness. She could feel her body tightening, readying for release and the knowledge that they could actually get there together made her buck determinedly beneath him.

She clamped her feminine muscles around him, desperate to keep that wonderful draw and drag between their joined bodies. Her breath came in short, faltering puffs. Her breasts bounced, absorbing the force of his manic thrusts, and with every push of him deep inside her, her nipples tingled and pouted, wishing for one more kiss from his hot, wonderful mouth. Sweat slickened the small of her back and she bit her lip as another bolt of pleasure lanced through her.

“Gareth,” she gasped, begging for more. She drew her legs back even further, allowing him to go deeper and he took it greedily, hammering into her. Harder and faster, then deeper and faster still. The corded muscles of his throat bunched and the look of determined delight on his face was enough to make her preen with pleasure.

She’d done this to him.

Her.

You are beautiful,
he’d said, punctuating each word with a determined thrust into her body. And for a moment—in this very instant—she could believe him.

Juliet drew his head down for a kiss, pulling his tongue deep into her mouth. He groaned against her lips, a masculine sound that was one of the best things she’d ever tasted in her life.

“Juliet,” he murmured, his voice anguished with need. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

She rocked hard beneath him, leaned forward and nipped his shoulder. “I hope it’s as fabulous as what you’re doing to me.” She giggled. “I’m almost impressed.”

He drew back. “Almost?” he asked suspiciously.

She chuckled at him, then tightened around him once more. “I’ll let you know when I’m
really
impressed,” she said.

A knowing smile slid over that wonderfully carnal mouth. “Clearly I’m not trying hard enough.” He reached down between their joined bodies and knuckled her clit, tearing an unexpected gasp from her throat. “But that’s easily rectified.”

Three strokes later her mouth opened in a silent scream, her back bowed so hard off the beach towel she feared it would break, a dizzying array of color flashed behind her closed lids and every nerve ending in her sex sang with unprecedented joy. She couldn’t catch her breath, and every muscle tensed with the long-awaited release.

A masculine smile of approval clinging to his lips, Gareth stared down at her, mossy eyes twinkling. “Are you impressed now?”

She couldn’t talk, couldn’t form a single word. Instead, though every pulse made her tingle with unbearable delight, she lifted her hips and begged for more.

Gareth’s smile promptly fled and, having satisfied her, he seemed to release a bit of his rigid control. He pushed into her, sliding her back across the towel. From the dimmest recesses of her mind, she heard the water falling in the distance, saw the steam rising up. Gareth pushed again, harder and deeper, and she met him thrust for thrust, determined that she wouldn’t be the only person here who left impressed.

She bent forward and licked his chest, his neck, slid her hands over his hot flesh. Warm supple muscle beneath her greedy palms. She made a little noise in her throat and a second later, she felt Gareth go rigid above her. He drove into her, angling deep and held, his big body quaking above hers. She felt him tremble and shudder inside her and a rush of warmth gathered near her womb as it pooled in the end of the condom. Another sparkler of heat detonated in her belly and she held him close, enjoying the contact.

Gareth drew back and smiled down at her, then pressed a tender kiss against her lips. “I was right,” he murmured, a strange look in his eyes, one that was tender and curiously unreadable.

“About what?” Juliet asked, feeling oddly nervous.

“Us. We’re perfect together.” He carefully withdrew, disposed of the condom, then rolled her toward him and wrapped them in the beach blanket.

Heartbreakingly so, she silently agreed, snuggling into his side. Pity she couldn’t bring herself to believe that it would last. This single
night would have to be good enough, Juliet decided, knowing that the end had to come. And soon, because she didn’t want the mess of an awkward official brush-off or break-up to ruin her memory.

For the first time in her life, Juliet Swan felt beautiful and sexy and wanted. This was a memory she would protect at all costs. Irrational? Yes. But self-preservation didn’t always follow logical thought….