Everything You Want: Everything For You Trilogy 2 (6 page)

Spent, he relaxes, fingers stroking my neck to gentle my exhausted disorder until I stop twitching violently. Gradually I sag, expended, and he withdraws. Only the cold hardness of the sink and Jack’s arm about my waist prevent me from slipping to the floor. He leans over, nuzzling at me, his chest covering my back because neither one of us can move for a while.

I feel his manic heartbeat gradually settle and steady before he pulls me upright in front of him and kisses the side of my throat.

“God, I’ve missed –”

“–this?”

“You! I’ve missed you.” He spins me in his arms and his mouth seizes mine.

Much as I want to hear him say those words, it isn’t what holds me here. It’s the knowledge that nothing that’s ever happened has changed my feelings for him one tiny bit. And that will be my undoing.

My senses recover in a gradual awareness of my state. The dress is bunched around my waist and I’m drowned from head to toe but he doesn’t part from me as if he needs us close together. We even seem to breathe in unison. Jack crushes me to his chest, his arms tight about me. In his own good time he leans back, taking my face between his hands to stare at me.

“You ran from me, kitten and I was very worried about you. Please don’t do that again.” His Arctic blues fix me to a promise.

I shake my head unsure if I’ve been made love to or punished. But right now, not running is a very easy promise to make.

Chapter Three

Without a word, Jack peels my wet dress over my head. He takes a towel and pats me dry all over, like I belong to him. But it is with such solicitude I can almost pretend he cares. I don’t want to look too closely at the illusion because I know it will make me sad all over again.

He tears off his t-shirt and pulls it down over my head. As it’s almost as wet as my dress I don’t get it but I suppose a wet t-shirt is better than nothing. It smells of him too. And I get to look at Jack’s naked chest again. I’m trying to focus on positives. He’s ripped and toned and for an office dweller, pretty fit. I briefly wonder how he works out but that thought takes me in directions I don’t care to go.

“You should be eating by now.” He states it like he’s telling me off.

“That’s your fault.”

“My fault? If you will walk around with no panties on what do you expect?”

“You didn’t know I had no panties on when you started…” I wave my arm vaguely in the direction of the sink. He needn’t think he’s getting away with blaming me for that.

“I have a sixth sense about these things. About a lot of things where you’re concerned.” It’s a feeble defence at best and I don’t believe it for a minute. I roll my eyes at him.

And yet… “I know when you’re around too.” The Sirocco.

“Do you?” He grins in delight.

“Like a bad storm coming.”

He narrows his eyes without comment as he continues gathering our meal.

I wonder if Jack and I
are
that connected. He found me here, didn’t he?

I mentally kick myself. Jack would have me believe anything was true. The trouble is I want to believe him. It’s a weakness I must guard against.

I sit at the table, suddenly starving and wait for him to pass me a plate. He watches as I tear off a chunk of ham sandwich between my teeth.

“A little healthy exercise and your appetite returns, I see.”

I stare in disbelief. Such crudeness is hard to swallow. Unlike his delicious sandwich. He looks totally smug and contented. As well he might. He had a little healthy exercise too.

“Any good?” he asks, clearly knowing the answer. I’m halfway through the first half with my mouth full.

“If you need your ego stroking as much as you do your –”

“– Tabitha!”

I lift the remains of the sandwich in a salute and smirk. “Not bad, for a guy who employs a chef.” I laugh at the notion that he probably can’t cook to save his life. “But it’s only a sandwich. I’ll teach you how to cook properly if you like. It seems only fair. If you can teach me to be a CEO, I can teach you to be a regular human being.” I snigger at the mammoth task that seems to pose.

“Well that doesn’t make my plans for you seem so insurmountable after all.”

We both laugh. It’s good to talk and eat together. More like old times at CaidCo. The world of Belvedere and commerce balls is just too weird.

“I’ll cook dinner tonight,” I suggest. “You can be my assistant. Watch and learn.”

“Only if you sleep with me this afternoon.”

My mouth pops open. The guy is insatiable. “Another quickie over the sink?” I try to sound horrified and defiled but fail dismally.

He shakes his head at my dishonesty and pauses for that perfect beat which makes me think he could have been a comedian in another life. “I travelled through the night to get to you, kitten. And you haven’t been sleeping much either.” He reaches across the table and runs a gentle thumb beneath my eye, as if rubbing away a smudge of dirt. The guy never misses a thing. “You’ve got dark circles beneath those pretty eyes and I don’t like to think I caused those.”

“Feeling guilty?” He should be.

“I don’t like the way we parted.”

“Me neither.” But something bothers me more than that. “How did you know where to find me?”

“I’ll always know where to find you, kitten.” He goes back to eating.

Cryptic Jack isn’t going to tell me anything. I know there’s little point arguing about it. I finish off my final bite and wash it down with the last drop of milk. Stretching out the discomfort of a full stomach, I’m amazed at how stuffed I feel but put it down to not having eaten in days.

I smooth his damp t-shirt over the little bulge in my belly. It’s not hollow now. I’m not hollow either. I glance up into his eyes while he stares at me with a serious expression on his face.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask him.

“You and a bed.” He isn’t planning to elaborate. He’s the most stubborn person I know.

He takes my hand and walks me upstairs to my room. We both go inside.

“Are you planning to sleep here too?”

He looks at me with wry amusement. “Where else would I be sleeping?”

“There’s Harry’s old room,” I say. “And quite a few more.” The chateau’s pretty big. I realise that although he may have bought it from Harry, he’s never been here before. It makes the circumstances of the purchase ring true.

“I think we’ll leave Harry’s room alone. I’m not leaving you alone, however. There’s no knowing where on the planet you’ll turn up next.” He yanks the t-shirt over my head so fast I squeal. I dive into the corridor, head for the bathroom, slam the door and lock it.

Is he that worried I’m going to disappear again?

After a quick hot shower, I clean my teeth. I wrap a big towel around me and emerge to find Jack already lying in my bed, on his back with his arms thrown up behind his head.

“What took you so long?” The quilt stops halfway up his broad chest and it looks a comfortable place to rest my head.

“I could ask you the same question.” I pad over to the far side of the bed and climb in still cocooned in my towel.

“Does France always brings out the sass in you?” One quick rummage under the covers, which I’m powerless to prevent and Jack throws my towel across the room. He pulls me hard back against him until my naked back is flush with his front. This is a move I’m beginning to associate with Jack. He likes to cuddle up in bed. He likes me where he can see me. I feel warm and safe, which is a dangerous perception.

“Sleep first,” he murmurs.

“First?” I twist to look back at him over my shoulder. His eyes are shut. He pulls me tighter against him than ever. “Sleep first,” he repeats his order, sleepily. “Sex later.”

And that is despite evidence to the contrary nestling snugly between my body and his, pricking my conscience and my behind. This bossy man has some self-control, it would appear. I ponder for a moment how easy it would be to tease him into reversing his plan but suspect, it might be tantamount to poking a sleeping Grizzly Bear.

“I approve of no panties,” he whispers drowsily. His tone changes. “But only when you’re with me.”

Has he had any sleepless nights since I left? He’s definitely happy to see me again and I have to question the reason why. But I drift off with a relaxed smile on my lips anyway, a muscular arm clamped across my body with one large hand cupping my breast and a rock steady breath breezing gently through my hair. I’d almost forgotten what it was like not to feel pain in my heart anymore.

* * *

Lying on my back, draped in Jack’s body I ice up instantly, waiting for the lightning bolt of agony to strike me through the heart as I gather consciousness. But he’s kissing my breast gently and glances up when he senses me stir beneath him.

“Hi, kitten.”

The familiar dream has come to life.

Waking free of all that torment is such a blessing. Jack simply makes me happy. “Hi.”

Our voices are soft and sleepy. I think he must only just have woken up too.

“I want to make love to you.”

I love that he asks me. Well, sort of tells me really but coming from such a bossy man, prior notice is as good as asking, I reckon. I nod and his mouth returns gently to my breast. I feel him smile briefly against my skin before he gets seriously focused.

Lacing my fingers through his thick hair, I remember the last time he got it cut. I was even a bit jealous of the stylist who touched him when I couldn’t. I never thought I was a jealous person before now but it would seem Jack can turn me into something I’m not after all.

He stops moving momentarily. “I won’t ever share you, you know.”

A strange thing to say but it makes me hot for him. I only wish that I could make the same demand of him but I’m scared of what he’d tell me. About her.

He suckles my nipple deep into his mouth making me arch up beneath him. I’m rendered into a mass of raging need with the things he does and those little noises he makes at the back of his throat.

He shifts attention to the other side. One hand explores the curve of my waist and hip making me writhe beneath him. I think he likes that he makes me moan so much and I am only just beginning to learn this man’s preferences. He slides down the bed licking and sucking his way to my belly, swirling his wet tongue in lazy circles around my navel, until he has me squirming. I bend my knees out to either side under the direction of his hands as he slides his body between them.

“Patience, kitten.” He sets to the task of nipping gently at my inner thighs with his teeth, ensuring I have no patience at all.

Questing fingers tease all the way across my skin, stroking first inside my ticklish knee, going higher and higher, closer and closer to the place I want him to be. His mouth carefully follows behind each touch, lapping and flicking a tongue all the way to the top. Then he starts again, blowing over the wet trails he’s created on my skin, driving me crazy. His attentions simulate a butterfly crawling across my flesh which I cannot swat away. An eternity of this and I am edgy and intolerant but much as I arch my hips towards him he will not hurry. Sometimes I think he wants me to suffer.

I grumble in irritation but he only laughs at me as I rake my fingers through his scalp to try and force his head into position.

Jack raises up, looking at me with mischief in his eyes. “If you rip any more of my hair out,” he warns. “I’ll make you stuff a cushion with it.”

I laugh, staring guiltily at the loose strands between my fingers. “Sorry. I got carried away.” I guess I don’t know my own strength when I’m around Jack. It’s another revelation.

I sigh contentedly when he kisses the naked mound I suffered the tortures of the damned over in the waxing room and his fingers part my flesh so his tongue can flick over the knot of sensitive nerves at my axis, making me twitch and squeal. He swirls around granting an occasional direct, leisurely connection until I am panting and desperate.

I let him know it. “For God’s sake, Jack.”

He stops and stares as if he doesn’t know what I’m after. “What’s up?” he asks casually. Such a tease.

Why he wants to torture me doesn’t bear enquiry. I push up onto my elbows. “Can’t we go any faster?”

“We?” He laughs at me. “Oh, you mean me. Faster?”

I’ve got some cheek I know, as I’m just lying here doing nothing at all. I try to look apologetic but I don’t think it comes across right. He knows exactly how to make me needy.

He pushes one of my knees flat to the bed and rolls off to the side, leaning up on one elbow. He looks down there at me, provoking a blush and then up into my face, making me blush even more. He wears that expression he gets when he’s considering something but I have no idea what he’s thinking. I wish he would just stop thinking and play with me again.

“What’s up now?” I’m almost afraid to ask.

His hand brushes the smooth surface of my denuded flesh. The gems I had placed there have all been removed. I left London with two remaining words on my body. Fuck. Jack. Which seemed appropriate but devastating nonetheless. My first night here I welcomed the painful distraction as I ripped the first four letters from my skin.