A Secret Between Friends: A New Zealand Sexy Beach Romance (Treats to Tempt You Book 6) (17 page)

She opened her eyes to watch, moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue. When he’d done, he moved back and circled a finger in the air. “Turn over.”

Genie slid off the washing machine. Her heart thundered, driven to record speed by the heat in Niall’s eyes. He looked feverish, and as he helped her down and then turned her, his hands were unusually insistent, less than gentle, a fact that didn’t slow the pace of her heart.

He pushed her forward against the machine and slid his arms around her, his hands cupping her breasts as his tongue laced across her skin, his mouth tracing up to her ear. He’d hardly said two words to her, but somehow that made it all the more sensual. Her body burned, ached for him.

Nudging her legs wider with a knee, he slid his erection beneath her, and she leaned forward on the machine to give him better access. He moved his hips, sliding through her swollen flesh, apparently content to stroke there, arousing her. She dropped her head onto her hands and moaned, pushing back against him, desperate to feel him inside her. He tortured her for a bit longer, then gave in with a groan and guided the tip into her.

Holding her hips, he pushed home.

She gasped as he slid inside, feeling herself stretching to accommodate him. The angle was heavenly, allowing him deeper access, the position leaving him in charge of the pace. He pulled back, then thrust again, and this time he slid all the way in, filling her to the brim. Her hands tightened to fists and her lips parted as she exhaled. “
Ahhhh…
”

At that moment, the machine clicked beneath her, changing to its spin cycle. “Oh no,” she said. A giggle rose, but it turned to a groan as he leaned forward and pressed her hard against the machine. He placed one hand on the small of her back, fingers splayed, and tightened the other on her shoulder, effectively trapping her there beneath him. She wriggled, playfully resisting, but he refused to let her go. Instead, he pulled his hips back and gave a sudden firm thrust.

She squealed as he plunged into her. “Niall!”

He ignored her and set up a fast pace, and it was all she could do to hang on tightly and just let him take her. Where her hips were pressed against the lip of the lid, the vibrations spread through her mound and up into her clit, deliciously strong. Her nipples received the same treatment where the sensitive skin rested on the lid. It was better than a vibrator, especially as it was accompanied by Niall’s solid thrusts inside her.

Just as she felt her climax build, he stopped moving, and she groaned in frustration. He leaned across her, and to her puzzlement, turned on the tap in the basin next to the machine. Holding out a hand, he waited until a small pool of water had formed in his palm. What the hell? Was he thirsty? Couldn’t he wait?

“What are you—”

He splashed the cold water against her chest and it trickled over her breasts.

She gasped. “Shit!”

Niall laughed and pushed her down, and she realized what he’d done when the vibrations of the machine doubled in intensity against her wet nipples. He began to move inside her again, the hand on her back keeping her there, and she rested her forehead on her arms. It wasn’t just the delicious slide of him inside her that she loved, it was the way his fingers tightened on her shoulder, his deep, possessive growl as he thrust even harder. He wanted her, and that was the biggest turn on in the world.

His thrusts were lifting her up the machine slightly, and the vibrations of the machine hit her right on her sweet spot. It was no good—she couldn’t last any longer, and she gave into the climax and let it spirit her away. She clenched around him in strong, intense pulses, and cried out from the beauty of the sensations that flowed through her.

“Yes,” he said, just that one word, but the vehemence with which he said it made her glow. He continued to pound into her, his breathing harsh and ragged. Then suddenly he stilled, his hips jerked, and he swelled inside her, coming with a fierce cry that gave her goose bumps.

Jesus, the guy was going to split her apart. He pushed forward so hard she thought he might have speared her to the washing machine. She bit into the soft flesh of her hand and screwed up her eyes, waiting for him to finish, half-wanting him to go on forever. Aftershocks of her climax rippled through her, a series of tiny spasms of her internal muscles that made it feel as if her orgasm was going on forever. She wasn’t going to survive this. She was going to burn out, and later they’d find a pile of embers on the floor, still glowing, the rest of her just ash on the wind.

It took a long time for him to relax his grip on her, and by that time the spin cycle was over and the machine had stopped rattling beneath them.

He withdrew, then turned her in his arms and held her tightly. She slid her arms around his waist, as much for support as anything, as her legs were wobbly from the orgasm.

“Well that’s a first,” he said in her ear. “Washing machines rule.”

She pressed her lips to his chest. “God, I’m exhausted.”

He swept her up in his arms and carried her through to her bedroom. Laying her on the bed, he stripped off his jeans, then climbed under the duvet with her and pulled her up against him.

“Shit, that was intense.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“You mean apart from splitting me in two?”

He pulled a face. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m not complaining really. It was pretty powerful stuff though.” She curled up, content to be in his arms. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

“I never knew.” She lifted her head and leaned on his chest, sliding her fingers into his the curling hairs there.

“Never knew what?”

“That you were so…”

He raised an eyebrow. “So…”

“Um…demanding.”

“Am I? I think that’s more to do with how I feel about you than anything else.”

Heat filled her cheeks. Had he really just said that? “It wasn’t like this with Tamsin?” She was breaking the unwritten law in talking about exes after having sex, but she was curious. Why on earth would Tamsin have broken up with Niall if he was so damned hot in bed?

His green eyes studied her, half-amused, half-puzzled. “No,” he said eventually. “Not like this.”

He wasn’t going to elaborate. She tugged on one of his chest hairs as a punishment, and he winced and pulled her hand away. Then he cleared his throat. “About what I said earlier.”

She felt a flicker of disappointment. Was he going to apologize? Say he shouldn’t have made a demand like that?

“I meant it,” he said. “I don’t want you to see anyone else.”

She pushed herself up onto an elbow, heart racing. “So you said earlier. I did agree, if you remember.”

“I wasn’t sure if you meant it.”

“I rarely say things I don’t mean.”

“Fair enough.” He tucked an arm under his head and smiled.

She traced a finger around his nipple. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why don’t you want me to see anyone else?”

His eyes were cool. “I don’t know.”

She snorted. “That a coward’s reply, Brennan.”

“If you say so.”

She felt a flicker of indignation. If he wasn’t going to admit he had feelings for her, he couldn’t make demands on her. “You have no right to ask that of me.”

“I know.”

“Why are you smiling?”

“Because that’s more the answer I was expecting.”

 She frowned. “I just don’t understand, that’s all.”

“I don’t like the idea of any other man touching you. I don’t think that’s a complicated concept.”

“You’re jealous?”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

This interested her, and she wanted to find out more. Knowing he wouldn’t volunteer the information, she stretched out, resting her head on a hand. “What did you think when Danny tucked that strand of my hair behind my ear?”

“I wanted to punch his lights out.”

She grinned. “I told him I’d pay to see that, especially if custard was involved.”

He didn’t laugh though, and her grin faded to a bemused smile.

“You’re not joking,” she said.

“No.”

“You really would have hit him? Jesus, Niall. I’ve known Danny for, like, forever.”

“You’ve known me forever, too.”

“Yes, but…”

“He’s good looking,” he said. 

“Yeah, I guess.”

“He likes you.”

“Not like that.”

“Are you sure about that?”

She shifted uncomfortably. “Of course. Jeez, I’m hardly Danny’s type.”

“Is he yours?”

“Niall!” Now she was getting cross. “Am I lying in bed with him?”

His lips curved reluctantly. “No.”

“Well, then.”

He reached out a hand and touched her in the crook of her neck, right where he’d given her the hickey. He had a smug look on his face.

“You
were
branding me,” she whispered. “Christ, that’s practically prehistoric. Why didn’t you just pee around me if you were marking out your territory?”

“I would have done, if I’d have thought it’d work.”

She met his amused gaze, speechless. He was acting like a caveman, and it completely took her by surprise. He’d never appeared to be the possessive kind of guy—he’d never looked jealous when Tamsin talked to other men, never dragged her away when she’d flirted with someone else. But the look in his eyes sent a shiver down Genie’s spine.

“What do you want?” she whispered.

“You,” he said simply. “While you’re here, home. I want to see you again. I want to make love to you again. And I don’t want you to see anyone else.” He looked perfectly serious.

It wasn’t exactly a declaration of love or marriage or forever, but it was the closest she’d ever thought she’d get with Niall Brennan, and she wanted to cry. She swallowed hard. “I spoke to Finn tonight. He warned me off you.”

Now he looked amused. “I hope you told him to fuck off.”

She examined the nail on her thumb and then nibbled it. “He was serious. He said your mum’s still mad at me. I don’t want to make things worse.”

Part of her hoped he’d say he didn’t give a damn about anyone else and he was going to tell whoever he wanted.

But he just said, “It’s okay. A secret between friends, remember? I don’t see why that has to change.”

She pushed away her disappointment. What was she expecting? This had started as a fling and it would end as a fling.

Except she didn’t want it to be a fling. She wanted more than that.

She wanted Niall Brennan in her bed, in her thoughts, in her heart, forever. She always had. And sleeping with him had only made her longing worse. Why did that surprise her? Had she really thought getting intimate with the guy, kissing him, letting him slide inside her, would scratch the itch that had plagued her through her entire life? Would cure her of the disease?

He frowned. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“That a coward’s reply, Sharpe.”

She smiled wryly, but her heart banged against her ribs with her rising panic.
Oh my God,
she thought.
I’m in love with him.
Actually, she’d always been in love with him. But whereas before she’d only looked into the ocean and wondered what lay beneath the surface, now she’d jumped in and the water had closed over her head.

What was she going to do?

He took a strand of her hair in his hand and twisted it. As more and more of it wrapped around his fingers, she had to move closer to him to avoid it being pulled out at the roots.

When he was only an inch away, he put a hand between her shoulder blades and pulled her the final inch. Then he kissed her.

She wanted to ask him what he meant by his demand that she didn’t see anyone. Did he want to go steady, to continue being a couple even though she was due to return to the Army? Was he prepared to tell his family about their relationship even if Sinead refused to forgive her? Or did he just want free sex while Genie was around, following which he’d move on to the next available girl?

She didn’t know, and she couldn’t bring herself to ask, because she wasn’t sure she’d like the answer.

Instead, she told herself to grow up and make the most of what he was offering her: a short period of fun and some passionate sex, a brief glimpse into the kind of relationship that might lie in store for her when she eventually met the right man.

He pulled her on top of him so he could kiss her more soundly, and she stifled a groan and gave into his demanding mouth. He’d always been her Mr. Right, and deep down she was certain he always would be. How could she convince him she was the only girl for him?

Niall opened his eyes to bright sunshine.

He was hot, and he realized why when he went to turn over and found he couldn’t. Genie lay snuggled up to his back, one arm across his waist. Her breathing was deep and even, so she was obviously still asleep.

He lay there for a while, content to lie still and watch the seagulls swoop over the bay. In the lemon tree to the left of his view, a fantail jumped from branch to branch, twittering enthusiastically, and at its roots a couple of rabbits nibbled the grass in the morning sun. Genie’s breath whispered over his skin, and his body gave an answering sensual tingle.

He hadn’t meant to stay all night, but they’d talked for ages, occasionally kissing while his hands travelled over her body, making the most of the feel of her smooth, soft skin. At some point he’d dozed off, then awoken again a few hours later. Outside, it had been dark, and he’d heard someone moving around—Beck, presumably, which had meant it was about one o’clock in the morning.

He’d planned to rise and leave but, not wanting to bump into Beck, he’d waited, then become distracted by the feel of Genie’s body pressed against him. He’d fought against his rising desire, but he appeared to have very little willpower where she was concerned, and eventually he’d sighed and given into his lusty urges. He’d kissed down her body and moved under the covers to arouse her with his mouth, and then they’d made sleepy, sensual love that had ended up with them both falling asleep again within minutes of fulfilment.

Now, he wished he’d made the effort to go earlier. It was no good promising to keep this—how should he describe it? A fling? An affair?—a secret if he was going to bump into her brother over the breakfast table. He knew Beck was a late riser. Hopefully he’d be able to make it out the door without being spotted.

Rising quietly, he pulled on his clothes. He cast a long, reluctant look at the sleeping blonde beauty. Her right leg was hooked over the bedclothes, her scars vivid against her pale skin. An image flashed through his mind of the explosion, of her heaving herself up and out of the truck, her leg covered in blood, Ciara lying behind her motionless. It gave him a physical pain in his chest to think of both of them having to go through that terrible day.

Genie would be returning to Afghanistan too, once her leg had healed. He swallowed down a lump of fear in his throat. What was to stop it happening to her again? What if next time she ended up like Ciara, her lifeless eyes staring out into space?

He turned and left the room.

“Morning.” Beck was in the kitchen, in the process of making himself a coffee.

“Ah…morning.” Niall ran both hands through his hair, conscious of his just-fucked appearance, and considered running for the door.

“Want a latte?”

He sighed. Leaving as if he was embarrassed would only make things worse. Besides which, they were old friends, and so far Beck hadn’t shown any resentment at the notion of Niall having a fling/affair with his sister, which was encouraging.

“Sure,” he said, and walked over to take a stool at the breakfast bar.

Beck paused in his coffee-making duties to slide a piece of paper over. “Thought you might want to see the list of women who requested your number.”

Niall took the list. There were eight names on it, including Genie’s, which made him smile.

Tamsin’s name was also on the list. He scowled and screwed it up.

Beck grinned, turning the machine on to fill the glass with coffee. “I saw how many names you requested. No wonder Tamsin was annoyed.”

Niall had only put Genie’s name on his list. She’d told him that she’d done the same. He fought with himself as to whether to trust her, then gave in to his doubt. “How many did Gin put on hers?”

Beck raised an eyebrow, suddenly looking every inch the protective older brother. “You’re seriously asking me whether she’d be sleeping with you but requesting the details of other men?”

“I…ah…” Niall hadn’t blushed since the age of twelve when he’d tripped up the stage steps at the school prizegiving, but he felt his face burn. “Sorry.”

“I should think so. I think I’m being remarkably calm about the fact that you’ve obviously spent the night in her room.” Beck shoved the full glass of coffee across, slopping some over the side.

“You are,” Niall acknowledged, refraining from remarking about the spilt coffee, keen to pacify his best mate. “Thanks.”

“Perhaps I should ask what your prospects are.” Beck was clearly only half-joking.

“You’re welcome to try, but seeing as I don’t have any, I can’t be sure what my answer would be.”

They both laughed, and the tension dissipated.

“What’s so funny?” Genie appeared in her bedroom doorway, pulling sweatpants up over a pink pair of panties.

“Nothing,” Niall said hastily, sipping his coffee. “Morning.”

She walked toward him—without the cane, he noticed—hesitated, then shrugged and bent to kiss his cheek. “Morning.” She glanced at Beck, who’d turned away to make her a coffee too. “All right?” she mouthed to Niall.

He nodded and smiled. “I’d better be off soon. I have a boat trip scheduled for ten.”

“Sure. Can we choose the next bucket list thing before you go?”

“Of course. I’ll get the list.” He hopped off the stool to retrieve the paper from the living room.

“Here’s your contact list,” he heard Beck tell her.

Niall came back to see her looking at it with surprise. “Wow,” she said. “Ten names!”

He looked over her shoulder. “Who didn’t put you down?”

“Er…Jonah and Finn.”

“So Danny did?” He sat back on his stool and glared at her.

She bit her lip. “He did it to wind you up, I swear.”

Niall drank his coffee, glowering. He was close to calling the guy up and challenging him to a duel.

Beck grinned. “Jonah was most upset he only got nine names on his list.”

She made an exasperated sound in her throat. “Only Jonah could be upset that seventy-five percent of the women were interested in him. Who else didn’t put him down apart from me?”

“Josie and Billie.”

“So Tamsin did?”

Beck nodded. Both pairs of eyes swiveled to Niall.

He shrugged. “He’s welcome to her.” The odd thing was that he meant it. He felt no flicker of jealousy at all at the notion of Tamsin going out with Jonah Sharpe. He just felt sorry for the guy. Somehow he couldn’t imagine once-a-week-if-you-were-lucky Tamsin being able to satisfy the apparently insatiable Jonah.

Genie took the glass of coffee from Beck and shook a dust of chocolate powder over it. Niall couldn’t read what she was thinking.

“I’m surprised Billie didn’t put him down,” she said. “I thought she liked him.”

“I think he might have overplayed his cards there,” Beck said. “I’m sure I heard her call him an ass.”

Genie snorted. “Figures.” She winked at her brother. “So how many names did Josie put down?”

Beck turned away. “I didn’t look.”

“Yeah,
right.
”

He wiped up the coffee he’d spilt when passing Niall his drink and didn’t say anything.

Niall’s eyes met Genie’s. He could see she was thinking the same as him—Beck’s lack of reply meant that Josie had requested at least one name. Poor Beck. Niall couldn’t understand what had gone wrong. For a time the two of them had seemed perfect for each other, and they’d gotten married and had a kid, but only eighteen months into the marriage, something had turned sour. Had Beck cheated on her? Niall couldn’t believe it—the guy didn’t seem the sort, although who knew what went on behind closed doors? Had Josie cheated on Beck? Niall couldn’t believe that either. But clearly something had gone seriously wrong, enough so that Josie was looking to move on, even if Beck wasn’t.

Genie pulled the bucket list toward her. “Come on, it’s my turn to choose.”

“Go on then,” Niall said good-naturedly.

She closed her eyes, twirled her finger in the air, and plonked it down on an item. “Ooh,” she said.

He read it out loud. “Get a whole body paint by an artist.”

Beck’s eyebrows rose. “A what?”

Genie smiled wistfully. “Ciara had a thing about body art.”

“Mum told her off so many times for drawing on her hands,” Niall said.

“Oh yeah.” Beck wiggled his fingers. “She had those henna tattoos done once, didn’t she?”

“Yes.” An idea was forming in Niall’s head. “Leave it with me—I’ll organize it.”

Genie narrowed her eyes at him. “I know that look. That’s the look you got in your eye before you set me up on a blind date with that model-making nerd.”

One afternoon many years before, she’d come home early from school with a headache and had walked in on Niall and his girlfriend making out on the sofa. Seconds from finally getting the girl’s bra off, he’d yelled at Genie, who’d promptly sat in a chair and refused to leave the room. Later, Genie had rung the girl up and told her he had syphilis. At that point, he was certain she’d had no idea what syphilis was, but suffice to say the girl had broken up with him the following day.

He hadn’t been amused. A few weeks later, when she’d stopped waiting for retaliation and relaxed her guard, he’d set her up on a blind date with the biggest nerd in the school. He’d told the guy that Genie was crazy about him, and he told her he’d set her up with the captain of the rugby team. Genie was normally open to hearing about any kind of after-school activity, but after an hour listening to the dude talk about which glue was best to stick a model’s body parts together and how she should use black as an undercoat rather than white, she was ready to throttle both the guy and Niall.

He grinned. “I’d forgotten about that.”

“I hadn’t. You’ve spent your life tormenting me.”

He smirked. It was true. And it was still true, except his ideas for tormenting her now included less public humiliation and more private torture involving tying her up and teasing her erotically.

And now he was turning himself on. He shifted on the stool and finished off his coffee. “I’ve got to go.” He nodded to Beck, who waved.

Genie rose off the stool and accompanied him to the front door. Stepping outside, she pulled the door closed behind her.

“No cane?” he remarked.

“Funny that,” she said. “It’s like I forget to use it when you’re around.”

It was a nice thing to say, and he smiled and slid his arms around her, then touched his lips to hers for a long, sultry kiss.

When he eventually lifted his head, her eyes were closed and she had a dreamy look on her face.

On impulse, he said, “Stay with me tonight.”

Her eyelids fluttered open. “What?”

He kissed her again. “Stay with me. At my house.”

Her lips parted, but no words came out. He hesitated, wondering if he’d put his foot in it.

“Why?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Thought it might be fun.”

“What if Finn calls around, or Sinead?”

“I’ll stick you in a cupboard.”

She smiled, but it didn’t touch her eyes, and he kissed her forehead. “They won’t. Nobody has to know.”

Her eyes turned cool, like the depths of the Pacific when he swam with the dolphins, and he thought she was going to refuse, but instead she said, “Okay.”

He nodded, relieved. “I’ll organize the bucket list thing for next weekend.”

“Sure.”

He touched his lips to hers. “Have I upset you?”

She gave him a genuine smile then. “No, of course not. Go on, have a nice day.”

“Okay. I’ll pick you up after my last trip, around three, okay?”

“Sure. See you then.”

He gave her a final long, lingering kiss, and then walked away. As he got into his car and drove off, he glanced over his shoulder to see if she was watching him, but she’d already gone inside. Unease filtered through him. He’d upset her somehow, but he couldn’t think why. Clearly his male intuition wasn’t a patch on his female counterparts’.

Women. He seemed to spend most of his life trying to work out what they were thinking.