Forbidden Fruit (10 page)

They wound around to the back of the gardens and up severallsteep flights of stairs, then stepped down into the teahouse, which was really more of a long, roofed terrace overlooking the pools. A waitress in an embroidered silk kimono seated them on smallstools at a long, lacquered wood table close to the railing. She set a fragrant pot of tea and a smallplate of rice crackers and almond cookies on the table before Karalee had had a chance to unbelt her jacket and settle in. The place was nearly empty; one other couple took up a table at the opposite end of the terrace.

Gideon poured for Karalee, handed her a cup.

“It’s peacefullhere,” she said, watching the koi move languidly through the water below.

“Yes.” He drank from his teacup, played with a rice cracker, but he didn’t put it in his mouth. “So,” he said after a minute, “what about yourself don’t you understand?”

“What?”

“You said in the car that you don’t always understand your own reasons for doing things. Or for not doing things, which I find even more intriguing.”

“Ah. Well…” The question caught her off guard, and she had to take a moment to organize her thoughts.

“Well, for instance, I don’t believe in love. I mean, I don’t believe in it for me. And the permanence of it seems highly unlikely to me. For anyone. I don’t really know where that comes from. I mean, I had a fairly normallfamily, average middle America. My parents have been together for nearly forty years.

But I never got any sense of them loving each other. I understand different people express it in different ways, but I never saw it. I know a lot of couples are the same way. They exist together in some loveless, passionless void, and their kids grow up still hoping for love, believing in it. But for me, love is something I’ve always been sort of…indifferent about. I know that must make me sound cold, but I’ve just never experienced it, other than loving my family, or my friends. I mean romantic love.

“I honestly don’t think I was traumatized by it. I simply developed a certain belief system. Or lack of belief, I suppose. And you see so many people getting divorced. The idea of that sort of love existing and lasting doesn’t seem viable to me. We’re all alone, in the end, whether we’re in a relationship or not, don’t you think?”

She looked at him, and it was as though a storm had settled over his features. His eyes were absolutely flat.

“Gideon? What did I say?”

He glanced away, stared into the gardens below the terraced teahouse. “Love does exist, Karalee,” he said through gritted teeth.

That was the last thing she’d have thought to hear him say. It shocked her somehow. And it made her realize that beneath his smooth exterior was pain of some kind. Something he kept hidden away. It was severallmoments before she could manage to speak.

“I’m sorry, Gideon.”

He shook his head, seemed to shake off the mood, all but for the tiny lines of tension around his eyes, his mouth. “Nothing to be sorry for. I didn’t mean to be so terse with you.”

“And I didn’t mean to dismiss love so casually.

Maybe I’m wrong to do that. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

He was quiet for another moment, then, “Let’s not talk of it anymore.”

He slid his hand over hers, turned her hand over, and stroked the inside of her wrist with one finger. She didn’t know what had just happened, exactly, but she was happy enough to let it go. To enjoy the long, sweet shivers his touch was sending through her like a faint electric current.

They drank their tea, talked about work, ate the cookies. The fog never lifted, the sky a heavy, damp gray, but it made her feellas though they were cocooned in the teahouse. She almost didn’t want to leave when he suggested they get up and walk around the gardens, but she was happy to be wherever he was.

What the hell did that mean?

But she didn’t want to question anything today. Or Gideon. She wanted to simply enjoy it, to enjoy him.

They wandered along the paths, stopping to admire the giant bronze Buddha, to throw pennies into the wishing well. Everywhere was the scent of eucalyptus, of pine and juniper and new grass. They walked up the steep stairs to the pagoda at the highest point in the gardens, then down the narrow path that led behind it, where there was a secluded deck partially hidden by tree branches. Gideon pulled her into a corner of the deck, then had her step over the small wooden fence where the surrounding park had been left to grow wild.

“Where are we going?”

“Shh. Just come with me, Karalee.”

“We’re not supposed to be here, Gideon.”

“I know.”

When she looked up at him his eyes were dark, glowing, his crooked grin absolutely wicked.

“Oh…”

She smiled as he pushed her up against the rough bark of a tall pine tree, that little bit of fear at being caught, his utter command over her making her hotter, wetter, immediately. She could feellthe texture of the tree even through her coat. One fleeting thought about how crazy this was, then he kissed her and she stopped thinking altogether.

His mouth came down hard on hers, his tongue driving inside, hot and slippery and making her shudder with need. His hands were under her sweater, cupping her breasts, thumbing her nipples.

His hips ground into hers and she could feellhis cock, hard and ready against her thigh. She needed to have him inside her. When he slipped one hand into the front of her jeans, she stopped caring about anything else.

She angled her hips, spread her legs a little, wanting to let him in. Then he was undoing her jeans, sliding them down her legs. Her panties followed. She was panting already. He slid his hand between her thighs, his fingers sinking right into her wet cleft.

“Ah, always ready for me, Karalee. So damn wet for me.”

“Yes…”

She heard his zipper, the sound of him tearing a foillpacket open, then he spread her thighs wider with a rough hand. Lifting one leg, she wrapped it around him and he pushed into her.

“Gideon…ah!”

He moved deeper, pulled back a bit, then began a hard, pounding rhythm as he teased her clit with his hand between their bodies. Pleasure shafted through her. And the harder he fucked her, the deeper that pleasure went, burrowing into her. Yes, deeper and deeper. Her ass was slapping into the rough bark of the tree; it scratched her skin. Didn’t matter. That small pain was all part of it, part of him fucking her, hard and fast and dangerous.

When she heard the voice of someone passing close by their half-hidden spot, the intensity soared, her body exploding, clenching hard around his pounding cock. He clamped a hand over her mouth as she groaned, and she came even harder.

Pleasure, hot and clean, rushed through her, pulsing deep in her veins. She shivered in his firm grasp, her hips thrusting into him.

Then he was groaning in her ear, shoving his rock-hard cock deep into her, shaking all over.

“Karalee…fuck.”

He buried his face in her hair, and she had one brief flash of…what? Something warm and lovely washing over her, centering in her chest. Then he pulled out of her, helped her pull her clothes back on. She was still buttoning her jeans when a man in a dark green gardener’s uniform came to stand on the other side of the fence.

“Hey, you two. You’re supposed to stay on the path.”

“Yes, of course,” Gideon answered smoothly, standing in front of her, his body shielding her from the other man’s view. “My girlfriend wasn’t feeling well. We’re going home now.”

She went all trembly inside, and told herself it was from nearly being caught rather than from hearing Gideon call her his girlfriend.

How juvenile. It wasn’t as though she’d ever needed to be anyone’s girlfriend.

The gardener nodded, stepped back while Gideon helped her over the small fence. She could feellthe man’s eyes on her back as they walked back down the path.

“He wasn’t happy with us,” Karalee muttered.

“Do you really care?” Gideon asked her, smiling.

She laughed. “No, I really, really don’t.”

He pulled her into his side, one arm around her waist, his hand gripping her hip. “Why don’t I take you back to your place, where I can fuck you properly?” he suggested in a low voice. “Where I can fuck you all day. Where I can fuck you right through the wall.”

Impossibly, her body was heating up again hearing him say these things to her, her sex wet, hungry for more. All she could do was nod.

They went back to his car, got in, and took off, Gideon shifting smoothly as they sped back toward her house, some classic rock coming from the stereo. She kept replaying that sensation of nearly being caught, her pulse beating wildly. And that other sensation, the one she didn’t quite understand but instinctively wanted to push away before she figured it out.

Not now.

She looked over at him; he turned and smiled at her, and a small tremor ran through her. No, now all she wanted was for him to take her home, to fuck her, as he’d said. Wasn’t that all she’d ever needed from any man?

Yes, that had always been the way it was for her.

Few men had really been able to understand that about her. Some had said she was more like a man when it came to dating, relationships. How ironic that something was shifting inside her now, with the one man who truly didn’t seem to want anything more from her. Ironic and crazy and too sad, if she let herself follow this new feeling, this train of thought.

Don’t even go there.

No, she’d stay in her comfort zone with him: a little detached, not too emotionally involved, just in it for a little fun. Because nothing more existed. She’d just said so, hadn’t she? She didn’t believe in love.

Did she?

JAGGER SPILLED A CRÊPE FROM THE PAN

ONTO A SMALL PLATTER, sprinkled it with a fine dusting of powdered sugar. His mother had taught him to make crêpes, and they came out perfectly every time.

“I’m glad we ran into each other at the farmers’

market this morning, Mia Rose.”

“So am I. I’m sorry I’m so…stubborn sometimes.

Stubborn and neurotic.”

“Maybe I like that about you.”

He smiled at her and she laughed.

Wrapping his hand in a dish towel, he lifted the Pyrex bowllof strawberry compote he’d just made from the pan of hot water and spooned a bit over the crêpes, then set a few fresh strawberries around the edge of the platter.

“This looks amazing.” Mia Rose was perched on a bar stool, leaning onto the counter, a look of pleasure on her face. Her beautifullface. Dazzling when she smiled, as she did now. Yeah, that was the word for it. Dazzling. And cooking for her felt damn good, better than it had in a long while.

He flipped the dish towellover his shoulder. “There’s nothing like homemade crêpes. Most people don’t realize how easy they are to make. I’ve been making them since I was ten years old.” He set the platter down on the counter and sat on the stoollbeside her.

“Here, you have to taste them while they’re still hot.”

He cut into one with a fork and lifted it, was surprised when she blushed. But she opened her mouth, let him slip the fork between her lips. Something sensuallabout watching her eat, about the way she savored the food. The way she took the food into her mouth, between those red lips…

He shifted to ease the ache in his groin.

Mia Rose moaned softly, her eyes closing as she chewed. “Oh, that’s really good, Jagger.”

She spoke as if she were talking about sex rather than food. His father had been the one to tell him that if he wanted to get a woman into bed, to give her chocolate. But he knew after talking with her the other night that food
was
sex to her. And suddenly, because of that, it was to him, too.

He smiled, took a bite himself. “Yeah, it is. I like to make these late at night. I don’t know why. They taste better after midnight for some reason.”

“Maybe I’ll have to find out.”

He caught her gaze. Her eyes were shining, an impossibly deep green. And a strange surge went through him, something sexual, yes, but also a sort of realization. That there was definitely more to this food thing for her than the usuallsybaritic pleasure most food lovers took in the flavors and textures. It went even deeper than what she’d told him about her sexualldesires and food. And something inside him connected with her on that level, so that her desires were suddenly his own.

Keeping his gaze on hers, he fed her another bite, watched as she closed her eyes once more, her dark lashes shadowing her high cheekbones. Heard the soft sigh of pleasure she made low in her throat when he fed her one of the ripe berries. She bit into it, and he watched the way her teeth came down on that delicate red flesh, the way her lips wrapped around it.

Oh yeah, pure sex. Sex and food.

He was getting hard. Even harder when he took another bite himself, letting the sweetness fill his mouth, and always watching her: her pouting red lips, her gleaming eyes. And without thinking too much about it, he set the fork down and dipped his fingers in the warm strawberry sauce, touched a fingertip to her lips. She opened right up, licked the tip with her tongue, then took his finger into her mouth. Pleasure moved through him, straight to his groin. And he saw the flush on her cheeks, felt the desire coming off her like some palpable thing, feeding his own.

“Here, try this,” he murmured, reaching over the counter to pick up the container of powdered sugar.

He tapped some onto a spoon, held it to her lips, and didn’t even need to tell her to open for him; she simply did it, the tip of her pink tongue waiting for him. He sprinkled a little there, watched her close her lips, smile.

“Oh, that’s nice, Jagger.”

There was no mistaking the smoky tone to her voice, the flushed cheeks, the quickness of her breath.

There was no mistaking his own excitement.

Her gaze was on his as he leaned in, pausing only inches from her mouth. He saw her small smile before moving in to kiss her. She was all sugar and strawberries and Mia Rose. The sweetest lips imaginable. Even sweeter when he opened her mouth with his tongue and slid inside.

He took her face in his hands, kissed her harder.

And the taste of her, the feellof her, was making him crazy already, crazy with needing her, with images of the sugar on her lips. On her body. Oh yeah. Too good to resist. She would love it. And his cock was rock-hard, ready for her.

He stood, pushed his stoollaway with one foot, and started to undress her. She didn’t resist as he slipped her sweater over her head. He wanted to see her naked breasts, but it was so good to take one moment to pull back and watch her nipples going hard beneath the sheer white lace of her bra.

His mouth was actually watering.

He pulled his shirt off in one sweep, then reached out to cup her breasts through her bra. She leaned in to him, moaned softly. He could feellthe heat of her in his hands, her hardening nipples. And when he undid the front clasp and let that smooth flesh fall into his hands, his cock gave a hard twitch. Lord, her skin was on fire, and her nipples were full and dark red. He wanted to touch them, to taste them.

He reached for the container of powdered sugar, tipped it, and let it fall in a shower of fine white dust onto her breasts. She gasped. And he smiled at her, at the shock and the lust on her face before he bent down and ran his tongue over her powdered skin.

Sugar filled his mouth, along with her sweet, pliant flesh. His cock was throbbing. He pushed her breasts together with his hands, sucked the sugar off one hard nipple, then the other, before really going to work, licking the sugar from her skin, the curving mounds of her breasts, the tender flesh in between, while Mia moaned and writhed in her chair.

“God, Jagger…Oh…”

Her hands went into his hair, held him tight, her fingers burrowing. He could hardly stand it, to have her responding like this, to feellher shivering beneath his hands, his mouth.

He had to fuck her. No question about it. He pulled back.

“Promise me you won’t move.”

“Yes, I promise.” Her voice was breathless, sexy.

He moved away with some effort, went to find a condom in his nightstand, came right back to her, his cock so damn hard he was barely able to walk.

Once back at the counter, he kicked his way out of his pants, helped her wriggle out of hers, then handed her back onto the stool. So fucking gorgeous, sitting in his kitchen, naked except for the traces of powdered sugar on her breasts and a pair of silver hoop earrings.

So good, to look at her, to make himself wait. He smiled, watched her face as he dipped into the strawberry compote again, then spread it over her breasts, mixing it with the sugar.

“Jagger…”

“I know.”

He knew the food added an element of excitement.

That seeing how it affected her made it better for him, too. He didn’t understand why. But it did.

He spread the red mixture over her skin, kneaded it into her breasts, keeping his eyes on her face.

She’d closed hers, her head back, her breath coming in hard pants already. Unbelievable. And he needed to fuck her so badly, to slide in between her thighs, bury himself inside her tight pussy. But not yet.

He bent in and started to lick, the sticky sweetness doing something to him he couldn’t comprehend.

Didn’t matter. All that mattered was her slick flesh beneath his tongue, her hard nipples as he sucked on them, teased them. His cock impossibly hard, straining to get at her.

He lifted his head and kissed her, pushing his strawberry tongue into her mouth. So hot and wet, he couldn’t hold back anymore. Taking the condom from where he’d set it on the counter, he quickly tore the foilland sheathed himself, his own hands on his cock almost too much for him. He spread her thighs and pushed right in between the swollen folds of her pussy lips, paused as pleasure washed over him.

“Mia Rose…”

“Yes, do it. Please, Jagger.”

Her legs went around him and he grabbed her hips, thrust hard, impaling her, rocking the bar stool. Her sex clenched around him, like steelland velvet, like pure liquid heat. He was shivering in moments.

Hold it together.

He had to pause for a moment, close his eyes, catch his breath. And then he felt her hands on his chest, her fingers coated in the strawberries, smearing it onto his own hard nipples. And when she arched up and sucked one nipple into her mouth, he almost lost it. Pleasure shafted into him, straight to his pulsing cock. He groaned, pumped into her in long strokes.

It was too good to stop: his cock inside her, her hot, wicked little mouth on him.

When she bit down a little on his nipple, he gasped, nearly came.

“Jesus, girl.”

But he didn’t pull away. She bit a little harder, sucking and biting. And her pussy clasping him, sending lust pulsing hard and hot through his cock, his belly. He couldn’t stand it.

He wrapped one hand around the back of her head, twined his fingers in her hair, pulling her head back, and with his other hand on her hip he tilted her, drew her body in closer. Then he really started to fuck her.

Driving into her hard and fast, their bodies pressed together, the strawberries and the sugar making a delicious friction against his chest while the legs of the stoollclattered against the floor. He bent and took her mouth with his, tasted the sweetness there once more, and knew he was going to come any second.

He felt the tight clench of her sex around his cock even before he heard her cries. Then she was coming, trembling all over, moaning and panting.

And he couldn’t hold back, plunging into her as he came in a shivering rush of pleasure. Fire exploded behind his eyes as a blinding heat shot through his body. And all the time he could feellher, smell her, taste her. Pure sugar. Pure sex.

When it was over he simply stood there for a while.

He didn’t want to let her go. And he didn’t want to question that right now. No, right now it was all good.

They were both panting, their bodies stuck together.

Finally, her grip on him loosened and she slumped onto the high stool. She was covered in a red, sticky mess, but she’d never seemed more beautifullto him, with her hair mussed, her lips dark red and tender-looking. Too fucking beautiful.

“Mia, Mia Rose…” He couldn’t stop smiling at her.

Her eyes were completely glazed. He stroked her hair from her cheek. “You okay, girl?”

“Yes.” She paused, bit her lip, closed her eyes for one brief moment before they fluttered open again.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

He could swear he saw something in her eyes, some sort of shadow. But he wasn’t going to press her about it.

“We made a fine mess here. How about we go get cleaned up?”

“Okay.”

He pulled out of her, slowly, smiled when she shivered. Then he took her hand and led her to the big bathroom, cranked up the hot water in the slate-tiled shower, and pulled her in with him.

The water fell all around them from the enormous rain-shower head he’d installed. He stood a few inches from her, where he could watch the water making wet trails over her skin. He felt a small pulse in his cock. If he hadn’t come only moments ago, he’d have a raging hard-on just from seeing her like this. From watching her hair turn dark and wet, the remnants of the strawberry compote and the sugar washing off her body.

He reached out, stroked the stickiness on her skin, rubbed it away beneath the warm water. She was quiet, still, letting him do whatever he wanted.

“You sure you’re okay, Mia Rose?”

“Yes. I really am. It’s just that…God, I don’t know if I should say this.”

“Come on, girl, you have to tell me now.”

She laughed a little, a hollow sound.

He slid a hand over her shoulder, pulled her in closer. “Hey. What is it?”

“Jagger…you know that alternative sex has been my life study. But I’ve never really…God, I’m about to sound really pathetic.”

“We’ve talked about this. Skirted around the issue, anyway. I know you’ve never let yourself do what you really wanted to do, never gave in to your desires.”

He stroked a strand of dark, wet hair from her cheek.

“I don’t see you as pathetic because of that. That’s the way it goes sometimes. We all have our stuff. I’ve got my own history, my own crap to deallwith. I’ve had my heart broken a few too many times. I’m beginning to understand how that’s affected my life, the choices I make. But I’m also learning to accept it.”

“God, I’m sorry, Jagger.”

“Yeah, so am I. But it’s part of life. I’ve realized recently that we have to let the bad shit go eventually.

It’s like poison to hang on to it.”

“I know,” she said quietly. “I’m trying. Meanwhile, I can’t…I can’t quite get over this senseless…shame.

And I’m embarrassed about even having this issue.

Me, of all people!”

She turned away, but there was nowhere to hide, just the two of them naked in the shower.

“The only regret you should have is that you haven’t explored this sooner.” He stroked her damp cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” He was being so nice, she almost couldn’t stand it. His tenderness was making her weak and warm inside. A little out of control, in a way even the food and the sex hadn’t.

“I’m sorry you feellyou have to hide this part of yourself. And I swear you don’t have to do that with me.”

She shook her head. “I don’t even get it myself. I can stand in front of a roomfullof people and talk about anything: anallsex, sadomasochism, anything. I don’t know why I’m struggling with this. Against it. Except while it’s happening, of course. Then I’m just…

helpless. Maybe that’s part of the problem.”

Had she just admitted that to him? To herself?

“You said it before: It’s different when it’s personal.