she breathed, arching up to kiss him. ‘Please, please, please... That’s exactly what I want...’
ROSE HAD FANTASISED about those nights when she and Art had made love. She’d delved deep into her memory banks and closed her eyes and tasted, in the emptiness of her bed after he’d disappeared in a puff of treacherous smoke, the touch of his mouth on hers, the feel of his hands tracing the contours of her body, the heavy weight of him on top of her and the way her legs had parted for him, welcoming him into the very core of her.
Now, touching him again, she realised that no amount of recall could ever have done justice to the reality of him.
Running her hands over his lean, hard body was like tasting nectar after a diet of vinegar.
He felt so good.
She traced the corded muscles of his back and then squirmed so that she was taking charge of proceedings, flattening him against the bed and angling her body in such a way that she could devote all her attention to his vibrant arousal whilst, at the same time, he could pleasure her between her legs.
She’d forgotten how well their bodies meshed, as though created to fit one against the other. She moved against his questing tongue, her breathing fast and furious, making little guttural noises as she licked and tasted him, feasting on his hardness and playing with his erection while she explored it with her mouth.
Her long hair was everywhere and she flipped it over her shoulder and then arched up, her whole body quivering as ripples of an orgasm began coursing slowly through her.
‘Art...’ she gasped, not wanting to come.
Not yet.
This time it was Art who took control. With one easy move, he flipped her so that she was now facing him and he edged her up so that there was next to no pause in his ministrations.
She was sitting over him, allowing him the greatest intimacy as he continued to flick his tongue over the stiffened bud of her core. Hands firmly on her waist so that he was keeping her in position, he teased her with his mouth and when her breathing quickened and her body began to stiffen he concentrated on bringing her to a shuddering explosive orgasm.
* * *
She spasmed against his mouth and he revelled in the honeyed moistness of her orgasm.
He’d missed this.
He’d missed more than this. It felt so good that he had to reach down and hold his own erection firm because he felt on the very edge of tipping over even though he wasn’t inside her, which was where he wanted to be.
Rose subsided, temporarily spent. She lay down next to him and wrapped her legs over his and, as one, they turned to one another so that their naked bodies were pressed up tight, hot and perspiring.
‘Not fair,’ she said shakily, but there was a smile in her voice as she wriggled against him, nudging her wetness against his arousal.
‘No, it’s not,’ Art murmured indistinctly. Decidedly unfair that she had this dramatic effect on him, that she was capable of derailing his life the way she had. Just as well that he was putting it back on track. ‘Dump the hotel,’ he heard himself say, ‘and move in with me for the rest of your stay in London.’
‘Dump the hotel?’
‘It’s inconvenient.’ He’d never asked any woman to stay in his penthouse apartment but he was comfortable with this decision because a precedent had already been set. He’d shared her space with her so no big deal if she were to share his space with him.
He wanted to be able to reach out and touch her in the middle of the night. He wanted to feel her, warm and aroused, lying next to him. He curved his hand between her thighs and stroked her soft, silky skin, nudging up to feel her wetness graze his knuckles.
He stepped away to fetch a condom from his wallet.
‘I guess I could,’ Rose murmured as he slipped back into bed to pull her against him. ‘I guess it could work...’ She parted her legs and sighed as her body began to get excited all over again. ‘I mean,’ she continued, voice hitched, ‘I hadn’t banked on any of this happening.’
‘That’s been the story of my life from the second I saw you,’ Art agreed with heartfelt sincerity. ‘You may well have converted me to the pleasures of the unforeseen.’
‘We both have the same goal.’
Art caressed her breast then levered himself into a position where he could taste it. He flicked his tongue over her nipple and then took it into his mouth so that he could suckle on it while he played with her other nipple, teasing it into tight arousal.
‘The same goal...’ Her words registered and he slowly kissed his way up to nuzzle against her neck before settling alongside her in a lovely, comfortable position where he could carry on teasing her nipple between his fingers.
* * *
‘I don’t want to want you.’ Rose imagined that his next girlfriend might have brains, might have more staying power, might be the woman he let into his life because he had now seen for himself that being in a kitchen together and sharing a meal and then doing the washing-up whilst talking about anything and everything was not something to be feared and reviled. She had done him a favour in pointing him in a different direction and her heart twisted because when he left her behind and walked away it would be into a relationship that might prove to be the one.
‘And,’ she continued, tugging him up because she couldn’t focus on anything when he was doing what he’d been doing, ‘I know you feel the same.’ She paused, a fractional little pause during which he could have jumped in with a denial or said something that might have indicated an interest in more than just getting her out of his system. He failed to take the bait. ‘So, yes, perhaps if I moved in with you for a couple of days...well, while I’m here, then this thing we have going on...well, we can get it out of our systems faster.’
Art frowned. ‘My way of thinking,’ he said, on cue.
‘There’s something about familiarity...’
‘You certainly know how to massage a guy’s ego. In a minute you’ll start comparing me to a virus.’
‘Well, it is a bit like that.’ Rose laughed shakily.
‘And what if it doesn’t conveniently blow over in a couple of days?’
Rose knew that he was playing devil’s advocate. ‘It will,’ she said firmly. ‘We don’t have anything in common, Art. We don’t have what it takes to have a proper relationship, which is the only thing that would stop this thing from blowing over.’
Art frowned. ‘Define a proper relationship. Is there a checklist for something like that?’
‘More or less, if I’m being honest.’
‘So now you’re saying I tick none of the boxes.’
‘There’s still one box
