Forbidden Fruit (13 page)

He’d never felt anything like it in his life.

Fuck it.

He ran his hands over her sides, her smooth skin stillcovered in the sticky remains of the honey. He willed his cock back to life, but he was too depleted. He’d need a few minutes. He hated how desperate he was to feellsomething other than what he was feeling at that moment. To focus on the sex rather than on what else was happening to him.

He was fucking doomed.

He shut the water off, sank down another inch into the heat of it. Mia Rose still hadn’t said a word. And when he tried to distract himself by sliding his hands over her breasts, she let out a small sigh. Oh yeah, he could handle this. He played with her nipples, teasing them into two hard points.

Finally she said, “Wash me, Jagger?”

She reached up and pulled a sea sponge and a bottle of liquid soap from the side of the tub, and he took them both. The soap smelled like vanilla. Like her. He squeezed some onto the sponge, ran it over her body. And he was heating up again, low in his belly. Just being wet with her, seeing the shine of the water on her skin, feeling it like silk under his hands.

He ran the sponge over her breasts, felt her squirm against him. Jesus, her breasts were perfect. He’d never seen anything like them in his life. But the truth of it was, he’d love them even if they weren’t perfect.

It didn’t matter.

He ran his free hand over her soapy skin. Oh yeah, even better like this, the water and the soap beneath his fingers. But she seemed to really love the touch of the sponge. He was getting hard again. Wanted to fuck her again. Or just rub up against her hot, wet skin, something he’d always loved to do. Just rub up against her, come all over her. Oh, yeah.

He moved the sponge lower, beneath the water, and ran it over her cleft. She sighed once more, spread her thighs, let her head fall back against him. And as he massaged her slick little pussy with the sponge, he teased her nipples with his free hand, loving the hardness of them under his fingertips. In only moments she was panting again. And his cock was rock-hard, pressing against her buttocks, between those tight cheeks.

Mia surged back against him.

“Yes, Jagger. Come onto me.”

She got it. That this was what he wanted. Needed.

He rubbed the sponge faster over her sex, loved the way she pumped her hips in the same rhythm. The friction was amazing on his cock, as it skimmed between those lovely cheeks, against her wet, slippery skin. Pleasure coursed through him, sliding like the water. Soon Mia Rose tensed, bucked her hips, whimpered as she came. And those low sounds of pleasure coming from her mouth made him explode. His cock went absolutely rigid, and he thrust faster. The pure power of his orgasm shattered him, like shards of glass, almost painful.

And he came and came, into the water he loved so much, onto the skin he’d come to love.

The sharp thud in his chest only made him climax harder. And Mia Rose was panting and squirming against him. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t stop the tremors of postorgasm, couldn’t stop the sensation deep in his chest that he didn’t want to understand.

He was left shivering. His arms went around Mia Rose’s body, held her tight.

Don’t think about it, man.

Too late. Too fucking late.

And he was too weak with coming to fight it. Fuck it.

There would be time to deallwith it later. Right now it was all about her soft body, her curves pressed right up against him, the scent of her hair and the goddamned honey everywhere.

Mia woke in the predawn dark, her body loose allover, the sheets pushed to the foot of the bed, both of them naked. She could smell him even in the dark, like honey, very faintly. Like her own soap. Like Jagger. Lovely.

She lay there for a few moments, simply breathing him in.

She didn’t want to question last night. Didn’t dare ask herself, and certainly not him, what had happened. She’d felt a shift in him while they were in the tub. She could swear something changed…

Or was it some strange moment of girlishness? She wasn’t used to having those kinds of moments. How could she possibly know?

Everything had changed for her in some subtle way since she’d been with Jagger. She felt different about herself as a woman. Better. Freer. Even her class felt different to her, as though she had a deeper insight into those things she’d been teaching for severallyears. All of her research, her years of study, seemed to have led up to this moment in time with him. And the two things seemed intrinsically linked, as though one could never have happened without the other.

A little scary, to know that this man was changing her, changing her life.

But there she was, the heat of his sleeping body beside her. And it was wonderfulland frightening and comforting in a way she still didn’t dare trust. She normally didn’t like a man to stay the night. She liked her space. But right now, all she wanted was him here with her, just like this. She wanted to touch him, to curllinto him.

She shook her head in the dark room. She must be losing her mind.

Looking at him, she was barely able to make out his quiet form. She reached out, stroked one finger over his bare shoulder, then up and over his jaw. Touched his mouth. And shivered with a longing so deep, so profound, it made her want to cry.

He stirred, whispered, “Hey,” his voice rough with sleep.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Mmm.”

He slid an arm around her, pulled her down onto his chest. His heart beat in a slow, even rhythm beneath her ear. He was so steady, so calm. So unlike her, her own head always filled with one frantic thought after another, rushing around at a hundred miles an hour. Common among those with a genius IQ, she’d been told by her teachers. She’d been tested as soon as she’d entered the eighth grade; her grandmother had seen to that. And it had been such a relief when they’d put her into classes that had actually challenged her. It was the emotionallstuff she couldn’t handle. And she could never seem to turn her brain off. But Jagger knew how to unwind.

Maybe he could teach her how to do that.

He was teaching her already. Something about how to let go. The way her body responded to him made her do it whether she wanted to or not. But she was pretty sure it was good for her. Just like her friendship with Karalee was opening her up, helping her learn to trust again. Maybe that’s what it was with Jagger, too.

Don’t take that too far.

No, she never did, did she? She wouldn’t now. Not even with him.

She wouldn’t.

Her heart gave a hard squeeze. And she knew she may have gone too far already. But all she wanted at that moment was to let it all go: the tension, the fear, the neurotic overthinking, and just be with him. To exist purely in the moment, as Jagger seemed to be able to do.

able to do.

What had Scarlett O’Hara said? Tomorrow was another day.

For once, she was going to try to let it be.

KARALEE DREW IN A DEEP BREATH AS

GIDEON THRUST INTO her from behind, right into her wet, waiting sex. She didn’t know, after their last experience, if he’d want to fuck her pussy or her ass.

She didn’t care. It was all good. Anything he wanted.

She braced her hands on the marble wall of the bathroom stall and surged back into him, wanting him deeper, already shuddering with pleasure. And he had his fingers on her clit, teasing, pinching, hitting all the right spots.

He thrust harder, deeper. He knew just how to do it, fast and furious. All the better if they weren’t going to get caught. Yet she came every time. Came harder than she ever had in her life.

Oh, yes…

She bit down on her lip. She knew to keep quiet. But she let out a little mewling sound so that he clapped a hand over her mouth, held tight. God, she loved that. That sensation of really being commanded.

Taken over.

The tension built, his hand and his cock working her.

Hard. Merciless. Pleasure shafted deep into her body, spread, heating her skin all over.

He whispered into her hair, “I love to fuck you, Karalee. Up against the wall like this. I love to see your naked ass. And your pussy is so damn tight and wet.” He drove his cock deeper. “I love to fuck you as hard as I can. Just. Like. This.”

Each word was punctuated by a ramming thrust. She cried out behind the safety of his hand across her mouth as pleasure stabbed into her. Her body tensed, her sex clenching, and she came in long, shuddering waves. Behind her, Gideon drove into shuddering waves. Behind her, Gideon drove into her, so hard she could barely stay upright. Then he grunted, and his hand fell away from her mouth.

It was only a moment later that she heard him zip up.

She couldn’t move, her legs still spread, her dress still up around her waist, her thighs aching. Gideon reached down and stroked a finger across the still-

quivering lips of her sex.

“Clean up. Then meet me in the bar.”

He left. It took her a few minutes to move. She lowered herself onto the toilet, her legs still shaky.

When she was done she opened the stall door, peered out into the ladies’ room. It was empty.

Grabbing her purse from the hook on the back of the door, she slipped out, went to look at her reflection in the enormous bronze-framed mirror.

The bathroom at the Clift Hotellwas almost ridiculously luxurious. With its red-lacquer paneled walls, everything accented in bronze and gold. The sleek pair of sofas covered in caramellsuede in the lounge area. The little marble tables. Even the red marble stall was beautiful. The feellof that sleek marble beneath her hands as Gideon rammed his cock into her…

Her sex clenched once more. The man could fuck, like some beautiful, wicked satyr. She couldn’t get enough. And she was really learning to love these dirty little public encounters. It made them both even hotter, and by the time they made it back to her place, they were always ready for more. Hotter than if they hadn’t touched each other all night.

She pulled a small brush from her purse, brushed her hair. Then, digging in her purse again, she found a tube of lipstick. Her mouth looked swollen, even though he hadn’t spent more than a moment kissing her. Pink and swollen, like the lips of her sex. She squeezed her thighs together at the ache there.

She washed her hands, letting the coollwater run over her heated skin. Finally, she smoothed the black knit wrap dress she’d worn with her high black stiletto-heeled boots, straightened the heavy strand of silver and pearllbeads at her neck, and made her way back to the bar.

The Redwood Room was one of the most famous bars in San Francisco, with its polished redwood paneled walls, and the bar said to have been made from a single, massive redwood tree. It had been redone in recent years, the style a bit more modern, updated with sleek red leather couches, low tiled tables, the subtle custom-made lighting. But there was that air of old elegance that still spoke of the history of the place.

She joined Gideon at the bar.

“I ordered a martini for you,” he told her.

She nodded. She would drink whatever he wanted her to.

It was part of the power play that ran like a not-so-subtle undercurrent between them. She wondered sometimes how much of her attraction to him was that power play doing things to her head and how much was real. Because she was beginning to feellsomething powerfullfor him, and she couldn’t be sure how much of that was her infatuation with what was happening between them, the things he did to her, or if it was truly about
him.

Gideon was so mysterious. So secretive. But that made him all the more attractive, while confusing her even more. And the fact that he kept her body, her head, buzzing with a constant series of orgasms wasn’t helping her to think any more clearly about it.

She slid onto the high stoollnext to him, crossed her legs. Unexpectedly, he leaned over, brushed his lips across her cheek. “You really are spectacular, Karalee,” he said quietly. “I’d like to fuck you right here. To slip my hand in between those crossed, ladylike thighs and get you off again.”

Her sex gave a hard squeeze, going wet once more.

He sat back, smiled at her as though they’d been having a perfectly normallconversation, sipped his own drink. Well, for them, this was a normallconversation.

She smiled at him. “I’d love for you to do that, Gideon. You know I would.”

He laughed. “I do know it.” He set his glass down, ran a thumb along the rim as he watched her, his dark eyes on hers. “I enjoy you so much.”

She felt warmed all over, at his words, his tone. He sounded perfectly serious. She didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to respond when it wasn’t purely about sex.

She sipped her drink, the gin going down her throat in a smooth burn. She sipped again, wanting it: the burn, the resulting loosening of her limbs, her mind.

She leaned forward, saw Gideon’s eyes flick briefly to her cleavage. “Take me home and fuck me, Gideon.”

He grinned. “Say please.”

“Please.” Then lower, “Oh, please.”

He laughed once more, threw back his scotch on the rocks. “Drink up, then, darlin’.”

Why did that make her shiver? It was just one little word. She smiled, sipped her martini, set it down.

“I’m ready now.”

He helped her from her stoolland led her to the front of the hotel, had the valet bring his car. She sank deep into the heavy black leather seat as he drove into the night, the lights of the city spread below them as they made their way down from the top of Geary Street.

“I love these old muscle cars,” she said. “Have I ever told you that?”

“No, you never have. I thought you only loved to feellthe metallof the hood up against your naked skin.”

She laughed. “Well, yes. But growing up in the Midwest, these were the dream cars. The cars that were completely unobtainable. Oh, some of the guys would buy old junkers, try to fix them up. But in the town I lived in, anyway, they were mostly held together with baling wire and covered in Bondo.”

“So was this one, at one time.”

“And you had it restored?”

“I did most of the work myself.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Why would I be kidding?”

She studied his profile for a moment, the strong jaw, the chiseled cheekbones, the elegant bit of gray at his temples.

“You don’t strike me as the sort of man who would work on his own car.”

“You don’t think I like to get dirty?” He cast a quick grin at her before turning back to the road.

“Oh, I know you like dirty.”

“So do you.”

Gideon reached over and slid a hand up her thigh, pulling up the hem of her dress untillit was bunched around her waist. She was bare underneath. He glanced over, grinned at her once more. “Spread for me.”

She did, and he slipped a hand into her wet heat.

“Ah…Gideon, you’re driving.”

“I’m quite good at multitasking.” He pushed two fingers inside her.

“Jesus. I’m going to come again,” she groaned through gritted teeth.

“I should hope so.”

She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the headrest, inhaling deeply of the scent of leather and Gideon’s cologne, that sophisticated, smoky scent. He was working her with his fingers.

Quickly. Expertly. The heellof his hand ground onto the tight nub of her clit while his fingers pushed in and out of her. She bore down onto his hand, pleasure shafting through her, making her shiver again. And the vibration of the engine rumbled through her body, making it all more intense.

She let her eyes flutter open, watching Gideon’s profile as he drove, a look of concentration on his face. He was so damn handsome. Beyond him the lights of the city flashed past in a blur.

He kept at it, his fingers in her sex, rubbing, pushing, pulling at her insides. And very quickly she was coming, a pure, stabbing pleasure rolling over her, the motion of the car rocking her. This time she cried out loud, gripping the edge of the leather seat with her fingertips.

“Jesus, Gideon!”

He smiled at her again, his eyes dark and glittering, kept his fingers inside her for a few moments more as the last waves subsided. Then he pulled them from her body, carefully put them in his mouth one by one and licked them.

“Beautiful,” he murmured.

She was still trembling. Her head was spinning. Was it just the sex that made her feellas though she would do anything for him?

Anything.

The idea of it made her feellweak. But she knew she wasn’t thinking clearly. No, better to stand back and allow things to happen, wait to see where it went.

Gideon didn’t seem in any more rush to be in a relationship than she was, so why was she worried?

Maybe because you do want more.

She shook the thought away. Impossible.

Wasn’t it?

They pulled up in front of her house, and he helped her from the car, took her house keys, and unlocked the door, guided her inside.

Ever the gentleman.

She’d left one low lamp on in the living room. He was moving toward her already, taking off his jacket.

Underneath it he wore a classic, starched white shirt, so pristine against his tanned skin. He rolled up his sleeves as he moved in closer, kept his eyes on hers as he backed her right up against the arm of the couch. With one hand on her shoulder, the other at her waist, he sat her on the edge. She could feellthe heat of his body, his hard cock through the fabric of his charcoallslacks pressing against her thigh. He bent and kissed her neck, trailed his tongue over her skin, paused to bite her.

“Fuck, Gideon, that hurt!”

“Yes,” he murmured.

But she was going warm all over again, her sex lighting up, needing him.

He pushed her down, untillshe lay on the sofa cushions, her hips raised still on the arm, her legs hanging over. A rather inglorious position. But she hardly had time to think about it. Gideon slid her dress up, spread her thighs with his hands, and bent in, planting his wet, sucking mouth over her cleft.

“Ah, Gideon…”

He went right to work, as he always did, running his tongue up and down her slit, pushing in between the plump lips, holding her legs wide open with rough hands. And licking her, licking her hard clit, then delving into her waiting hole. Everything so fast, so hard, it made her head spin. She was nothing but this sensation. His mouth on her. The heat. The wet.

His soft, slippery tongue.

Pleasure shimmered through her, into her sex, up into her belly. She threw her hands over her head, giving herself up to him, to the sensations, to that sense of utter helplessness beneath his hands, his mouth, his presence.

His tongue stabbed into her savagely, and he pressed on her clitoris with his thumb. And she came once more, crying out, writhing, barely able to breathe.

She shook with the force of it, her legs quivering.

Gideon pulled back, stood staring at her in the half-lit room, her thighs still spread, her hips raised on the arm of the couch, her sex naked and open to his gaze.

There was fever in his eyes. She saw his cock, hard and ready, beneath the woolltrousers. And no matter how many times she’d come tonight already, she wanted him.

His cock, yes. But something else? Something more? Too hard to think right now. She was too listless, her body spent. She moved to pull her thighs together, but he said sharply, “No.” She left them spread, felt the gentle, weightless pull of her legs dangling over the edge of the couch. Felt her wanton nakedness like a hand caressing her swollen sex.

He paced a little, rubbing the back of his neck, watching her. She’d never been looked at in quite this way before. She loved it.

Gideon moved in closer, stroked a finger over her cleft, dipped inside. Sensation shivered through her system, her stomach clenching.

“You are so responsive, Karalee. To every single thing I do. To everything I say. Fucking amazing, really.” He spoke so quietly, almost as though he were alone, speaking to himself. “I don’t know what the hell to do with you any longer.”

“Fuck me, Gideon,” she said, her voice low, breathless.

“Yes, that’s not a problem. I could fuck you all night.”

She started to sit up, wondering what was going on with him, but he quickly came to stand next to her, pushed her back down, leaving his splayed hand between her breasts. She would have been frightened if there was anything at all menacing about his voice, but there wasn’t. He sounded a little vague, in fact.

“I can fuck you, Karalee, but then what? I can fuck you some more. Make you come over and over, which you do all too easily. Oh, I don’t mean that as any kind of insult. Just the opposite. I can’t get enough of that, of making you come. Watching your face.”

She looked up at him, saw the way his eyes roved her body. And then he reached down and untied her dress, pushed the folds apart with his hands, baring her breasts. He caressed them, making her sigh. Yet a part of her mind was on edge, hyperaware of his shifting mood.

“Yes, see?” he said. “I touch you and your body responds instantly. And you’re willing to do anything, aren’t you?”