have liked to.
And she didn’t have time.
Because the rhythm of his touching grew faster, his fingers sending a million darting sensations flowing through her body until she was rocking under the impact of an orgasm, bucking against his hand, unable to contain her low groaning cries as she reached the point of utter physical fulfilment.
She spun round, blindly kissed his neck, just as he had done to her only minutes previously, and then she knelt in front of him, tossing her hair behind her, and took his rock-hard bigness into her mouth.
He tasted...like heaven.
She sucked him and he curled his fingers into her hair. She could feel his loss of self-control as she continued, sucking and licking him at the same time, her slender fingers gripping his erection, moving and massaging, working her own rhythm.
Javier had never felt so wildly out of control before. She was exciting him in ways no other woman ever had and he could no more control his own orgasm than he could have stopped the sun from rising or setting.
Spent, he pulled her back to her feet and for a few seconds their bodies were entwined into beautiful, sated pleasure, the aftermath of their physical satisfaction.
‘I might have to share that oversized bath with you,’ he murmured, tilting her face so that he could gently kiss her on her mouth.
Sophie smiled, as content as a cat in possession of a full tub of cream.
This was just the sort of thing he might take for granted, think nothing of, but she was so scared of taking yet another step into him...into losing herself in a non-relationship that wasn’t going anywhere and never would.
But what was the harm in having a bath with him? What was the harm in another first experience?
‘Okay.’
‘And then you can cook something for me to eat.’ He had never uttered those words to any woman before.
‘Don’t expect cordon bleu food,’ Sophie warned him in alarm and he laughed.
‘Beans on toast would be fine.’
Sophie lowered herself into the water a little self-consciously, drawing her knees up as he took the other end. It was an enormous bath, easily accommodating the both of them, and he made a few approving noises as he settled into the water, pulling her legs out to tangle with his, looking for the inevitable signs of deterioration in the fabric of the building as he was now accustomed to doing after only a short space of time.
‘Really?’ she couldn’t help but ask drily. Once upon a time, perhaps, but he was no longer a ‘beans on toast’ kind of guy.
‘And then you can tell me about your mother and how you’ve managed to keep this situation from her.’
He stroked her calf, which sent a frisson rippling through her body. She literally couldn’t seem to get enough of him and she marvelled at her body’s capacity to rouse itself at the speed of light, from satiated, pleasant torpor to wakening hunger to be touched again.
‘And then we can talk about this house, which appears to be on the point of collapse. But before all that you can wriggle up and turn round so that I can begin soaping you...’
* * *
Sophie looked at the newspaper spread out on the kitchen table in front of her.
It had been that easy to become accustomed to having him around. It had felt so natural. Working in London, having him in and out of the office, going through paperwork with him, sitting in on interviews, being consulted on absolutely everything to do with the company...
And then, when they were on their own, those precious times when they would talk, laugh, make love...
The company had picked up in the space of just a few short months. Swept along on the coat-tails of Javier and his remarkable reputation, business that had been lost to competitors was gradually returning and returning customers were treated to reward schemes that secured their loyalty.
Little changes had been incremental and she marvelled at how simple some of the solutions were to turn the company around.
With profit came money to start working on the house. And the profits had also secured Oliver’s release from the work he had never enjoyed doing.
He had returned to America to become a sports teacher at one of the prestigious private schools.
Everything had slotted into place and, of course, she had grown complacent.
Who wouldn’t have?
She had actually begun secretly to see a future for them, even though he never, ever made plans; never, ever mentioned doing anything with her at some point in the future.
The one-night stand had grown into a relationship that was now almost four months old.
They hadn’t talked about Christmas but she could envisage them spending at least a part of it together.
All told, hope, that dangerous emotion, had begun to take root. Loving him had taken away her objectivity, made her vulnerable to all kinds of foolish thoughts about them having a proper relationship, a relationship in which he might actually be persuaded to try to make a go of it, persuaded to think about commitment.
It was her own fault for not listening to the dictates of common sense...
No sooner had she told herself that she had to maintain some sort of emotional distance than she had hurled herself headlong into a relationship that was the equivalent of a minefield.
And this was where it had got her.
She was driven to stare at the picture occupying a large portion of the tabloid newspaper she had bought on the spur of the moment from the local newsagent. Lord knew, she wasn’t much of a newspaper reader. She had an app on her mobile that kept her fully updated with what was happening in the world.
The picture had been taken at a London gallery opening. She hadn’t even known that Javier had been invited. Ensconced in Yorkshire, where she had been for the past couple of weeks, getting the local offices in order and supervising decorating and refurbishment, she had seen him in fits and starts.
She looked forward to his arrivals with eager, edge-of-seat anticipation. She dressed in clothes she imagined him ripping off. She no longer felt constrained to hide how much he turned her on. Lust and the physical side of things were the only things that were out in the open between them.
She knew how much he wanted her and he knew how much she wanted him.
And he was going to be arriving any minute now. She had cooked and could smell it wafting aromatically from the kitchen, which had seen recent updates and now functioned the way it once had, with everything working and in spanking new condition.
She neatly folded the paper and then hovered until, at seven promptly, she heard the insistent buzz of the doorbell. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply to calm her shaky nerves.
She found that she’d even memorised the way he rang the doorbell, as if he couldn’t wait to stride into the house, shedding his coat even
