Friday I'm in Love (10 page)

He turned to lie beside her, pulling his cock out by millimeters since each slight movement sent her inner muscles into a fresh round of contractions, causing her to cry out, hold him close.

He cupped her face when it was apparent retreating from her body wasn’t going to be easy. He kissed her and grinned. “Like a bandage,” he whispered, as he quickly withdrew completely.

“Ah,” she sighed, wincing as her body rejected his abandonment. She quivered in the aftermath, struggled to close her thighs. It had been too long. No, she thought, as she looked at Ewan and recalled his lovemaking. She’d never been with someone like that…and she suddenly felt as shy and uncertain as a virgin. “Well, that was interesting,” she said, forcing her voice to return to its natural state.

He shook his head, pulling her closer and kissing her face, her eyes, her brow.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice husky, almost hoarse. “Don’t go there. Not yet.”

She laid her head on his chest and closed her eyes against the tears gathering there.

How did he know? How did he always know?

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She swallowed against the lump in her throat and decided she owed him something real, something true.

“I’ve never experienced anything like that, Ewan. Anything so…” Her insecurities, her pride kept her from speaking the word.

It didn’t matter. Ewan knew. “Perfect.”

That was definitely the word that had been hovering on the edge of her lips and she fell silent, unable to refute the truth, though terrified to admit it. He ran his fingers through her hair and she melted further in his arms. She’d never wanted this affection, this closeness in the past, but she could no more leave his arms now than she could cut off her own nose. She needed to be here.

When the silence became too heavy, she looked up, consumed with curiosity. What was he thinking? Was he as floored as her?

The questions clogged her throat. One week was all he’d asked for. One week to play their game. It was all he owed her and all she wanted. It was time to get back on track. She dug deep to find the Natalie she could control, the one she could understand, but she’d deserted her, left her high and dry.

“So,” she began, cursing the shyness in her voice. “Do you think we can we do it again?”

He laughed at her request. “Oh hell yeah, but later. For now, I gotta rest up. I may be young, babydoll, but I’m not Superman.”

She laughed, relieved he so quickly reverted to form. The fun, laid-back Ewan she could handle. It was the passionate lover, the romantic man who was wreaking havoc on her head and…

She closed her eyes, afraid to think the word. It came anyway.

Heart.

He was touching her heart—and it scared the hell out of her.

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Mari Carr

* * * * *

Ewan roused several hours later. A quick glance at the clock confirmed it was a couple hours before dawn. Natalie was wrapped up in his arms, her head using his chest as a pillow. Her breath was warm, soft against his skin, and he closed his eyes, savoring the feeling.

She was magnificent. Amazing. Everything he’d dreamed she’d be, but so much more. He’d always suspected her sensual side, knew from her fiery nature outside the bedroom she’d be incredible between the sheets. All he’d needed to do was convince her to leave her hang-ups at the door. So far, so good, but he didn’t harbor any illusions he’d made it safely to shore yet. There was still a lot of fight left in his woman. He just hoped his stamina outlasted hers.

He gently lifted her head, placing it on the pillow. She murmured but didn’t wake, instead moving to her back. He wrapped the blanket around her as he rose from the bed and went into the bathroom. He chuckled as he looked at himself in the mirror. He had at least a dozen rose petals stuck to his body. He peeled them off before brushing his teeth.

Ewan studied his reflection, trying to ignore what he knew was running through his mind. He’d been enamored of Natalie Miller since they’d first met. Like any young guy, he’d dreamed of capturing her for a night or two, plotted ways to get her into his bed—inviting her to Baltimore for art shows, festivals, concerts. The more she rebuffed his advances, the harder he tried. Soon, however, he was devising ways to get her to come to Baltimore simply because he wanted to see her. His advances became less about sex and more about her. She fascinated him, enticed him.

He scowled. He was in way over his head. He was in love with Nat and he knew it was going to take a hell of a lot longer than a week to claim her closed-up heart.

Something was holding her back, keeping her from making the leap from a solitary life to one shared with family, friends, a lover. He suspected she was protecting a secret, something so painful she felt the need to shut the world out, keep everyone she knew at 78

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arm’s length. Until she trusted him enough to confide in him, he wasn’t sure anything he did or said would bridge that gap.

They needed more time. Sighing heavily, he shook off his heavy thoughts. It was only Wednesday and they were still on Tuesday’s lesson. Three days. He had three days to convince Natalie to trust him, to show her that having an exciting life wasn’t worth a damn if you didn’t have someone to share it with.

Tiptoeing back into the bedroom, he spotted her camera on the nightstand. He’d been carrying it around since taking it from her on the fishing boat. He kept waiting for her to ask for it back, but she hadn’t yet. He knew she had other, bigger cameras with her. The little pocket-sized job he’d taken must be her personal one, while she used the professional cameras for her more serious shots.

She looked so beautiful, her blonde hair across the pillow, her usually tense, alert features soft, peaceful. He picked up the camera and snapped a quick shot. He thought the flash would disturb her but he must have worn her out more than he realized.

Grinning, he slowly dragged the sheets away from her body, watching as, bit by bit, more of her luscious body was revealed. He stopped after baring her breasts, his gaze studying her pink nipples as they went tight with the cool air. He continued moving the sheet down, stopping again to study her mons. She kept her light hair trimmed close and he felt the urge to run his fingers through it. Removing the sheet entirely, he climbed back on the bed, carefully spreading her legs so he could kneel between them.

She sighed, but again, she didn’t stir.

“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty,” he whispered as he leaned forward and dragged his tongue against her slit. A tiny bit of moisture met his lips and he glanced up, not surprised to find her sleepy gaze on him.

“Hungry?” she asked, and he chuckled at her mocking wit. She used sarcasm as a shield. He’d realized that from their first meeting. Knowing that made it easier to dismiss, and he knew she was confused by his lack of offense each time she made some cutting comment, provoking no response.

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“Starving,” he replied. He lightly ran his tongue along her drenched flesh, thrilled by the copious amount of juice her body had produced. Regardless of her confusion about her feelings, her body was opening to him, inviting him in. He pushed his tongue into her sheath as her hands found his hair. She caressed his face, his cheeks, as he savored and sampled every part of her. When her response to his intimate kisses turned from comfort to desire, he moved over her, stopping only to place hot, deep kisses on each nipple.

“Need you,” she whispered.

He continued upward until his lips found hers and they kissed for hours, days, until the heat between their bodies threatened to consume them.

“Please,” she cried at last, pulling her face away from him. “Please, Ewan.”

He reached for a condom but she stopped him. “Do you have to wear that?”

“You tell me.”

“I’m on birth control. I’m clean.”

“So am I,” he replied.

“Then don’t wear it. I don’t want you to—”

He kissed her when she stumbled over her request. He didn’t need to hear the words. The idea that she wanted this kind of intimacy, this level of trust, gave him hope. For the first time since the week began, he thought perhaps he was making progress.

He placed his cock at her entrance and pushed forward with care. Once he was lodged to the hilt, he remained there, relishing the warm solace of simply being held within her body. He kissed her again and they began a gentle, smooth rocking. Their connection felt more important this time and they stayed linked together, touching, kissing, tasting. He held her gaze with his and watched her implode quietly, allowing her orgasm to pull his climax along as well. He felt each pulse of his cock filling her with his come. He was marking her in the most personal way he knew.

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This was it, he thought. She was destined to be his true love or his ultimate heartbreak.

He rolled them to their sides, careful not to disengage, not to leave her body. He wasn’t willing to give this feeling up. The Jacuzzi caught his eye. “How would you feel about a nice long soak?”

“Mmm, that sounds like a great idea. Can we drink the champagne too?”

“It’s four o’clock in the morning.”

“I don’t care,” she admitted.

“Neither do I.”

After popping the cork on the bottle, he checked the water temperature and started the jets as she poured them each a glass of the bubbly wine.

As they sank into the water, Natalie sighed and grinned. “This is heaven on earth.”

He agreed with a lazy nod. His body was aching in muscles he didn’t know he had.

“Tonight was great, Nat.”

She smiled. “Is this the part of the evening where I impress my teacher with all my newfound intelligence about life and score some rewards?”

He tried to ignore the annoyance that accompanied her question. He didn’t want tonight to be about learning a lesson. Rather than reveal his feelings, he forced a grin.

“Haven’t you had enough rewards?”

“Never.” Her answer reached him on a whisper and he silently prayed that answer was true. He bent closer and kissed her.

“So what did you learn?”

“I think you were trying to show me that it’s okay to let go every once in while.

That there’s nothing wrong with letting yourself have something you want.”

“And you wanted
me
?”

“I told you I thought you were hot.”

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Her comment rubbed against the grain as he felt her trying to put this whole evening in the sex category, rather than the lovemaking one. He tried to ignore her words. Sarcasm was Natalie’s way. He knew better than to let her get under his skin.

“What about the romance? The soft music? The candles? The rose petals?” He felt like a jerk for returning her volley with his own cynicism. She blinked twice at his tone and he knew he was being a shithead, lashing out.

“That was all nice.” Her response was quiet, uncertain.

“I’m just kidding, Nat. You learned exactly what I hoped you would.”

“No, I don’t think I did. I suck at romance. Suck at all that sweet shit. My sister, on the other hand, would have eaten tonight up with a spoon.”

He remained quiet, hopeful. She’d just cracked a door and he knew it. She’d never volunteered information about her sister, though he knew the woman must have been a huge part of Natalie’s life.

“Yvonne loved romantic movies, devoured romance novels—reading at least three a week. I used to tell her she was wasting her time on that garbage. That romance was the ultimate female fantasy and as likely to occur in real life as aliens coming to live amongst us.”

“Haven’t you ever seen
Men in Black
? The aliens are already here.”

She laughed at his joke, but continued talking. “She used to date all the time. She was gorgeous, vivacious, friendly and fun. Everything I wasn’t.”

“That’s not true, Nat. You’re too hard on yourself.”

“I’m not saying I’m a terrible person, Ewan. Really, I’m not. I know I’m smart. I’m cocky enough to think I’m very good at my job. This isn’t a self-esteem issue. I’ve just always found it difficult to fit in, to forge relationships.”

“That whole
people annoy me
thing?”

She smiled ruefully. “Maybe my problem is I think too highly of myself. I’m very intolerant, aren’t I?”

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He shook his head. “I don’t think so. Besides, you do fine hanging out with me, my family, Sky.”

She paused at that and looked at him. “You all seem to be the exceptions, rather than the norm. And in your case, I suspect it’s because you have a bit of a sadomasochistic streak in you.”

“What?” he asked.

“You must be in to pain to put up with all the abuse I pile on your head,” she replied with a grin.

“Never thought of that. You may be right.” They laughed together and the conversation died for a moment.

“How old was Yvonne when she died?” He hated to bring the playful mood down, but he’d never move ahead with Natalie if they didn’t leap this hurdle. It was becoming clear Yvonne’s death had played a big role in why Natalie didn’t open herself up to close relationships.

“Twenty-three. I was twenty-four. We were born only ten months apart.”

“Oh damn. You realize the not-so-nice term for that is Irish twins?”

She grinned. “Yeah, I’ve heard that expression before. How about that? I’m Irish too.”

Natalie closed her eyes, rested her head against tub. He didn’t like the distance so he shifted them, moved her until she sat between his legs, her back laying against his chest and her head on his shoulder. He suspected this conversation may be easier if it wasn’t done face-to-face.

“You said it was a car accident?”

Natalie nodded. “She’d gone out one night to a party. She wasn’t drinking. It wasn’t anything like that. Yvonne rarely drank. It was just late and the police think she fell asleep at the wheel. She ran off the road and hit a tree.”

“That must’ve been hard for you.”

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