Bedding The Billionaire (11 page)

He kissed her fiercely, deeply. She loved the way he
tasted. She loved the feel of his tongue
—
silken, exploring her,
devouring her. No man had ever kissed her with such hunger before.

He kissed her lips, her chin, descended to taste her
throat. She bent her head back, dipping her hair into the water, and moaned at
the way his lips felt against the sensitive flesh.

"Abbey," he whispered. "I want you,
Abbey. So much."

As one hand held her, the other came round to fondle
her breasts beneath the water. With his touch and the cool water, it didn't
take long before they elongated into points, despite the barrier of her dress.

She arched her body into him, thrusting her nipples
into his chest. She wanted his hand to go on, and he drew in a breath through
his teeth.

He nuzzled her throat, kissing and licking her, while
his hand worked. He unbuttoned the dress to her waist and it fell away. His hand
delved inside. He cupped a breast beneath the water, squeezed, teased the
nipple through her bra.

Then, as if he couldn't stand the fabric barrier any
longer, his hand shoved aside the bra and flesh met flesh.

The sensations came thick and fast. The heat coursed
from her nipples to her thighs, made her hot little nub ache for him. Abbey
felt like she was burning up, from the inside out, and suddenly she couldn't
control herself any longer. She moaned as he rubbed her breasts, played with
the nipples, first one then the other.

"Yes," she whispered.

She wanted him. She wanted to take him in front of
everyone.

She fumbled with his shorts, drawing them down far
enough so his erection bobbed free. She clutched it and stroked along the thick
shaft. He gasped in her ear and his hand tightened around her breast.

"Now," he whispered hoarsely.

But Abbey wanted the pleasure to last. She wanted to
tease him the way he was teasing her. She laced her fingers around him,
circling him, and gently pushed down the shaft to the base, then slowly back
again.

She thought she heard him whimper. When his hand
slowed at her breast, then rested, cupping one, she knew she had him close to
the edge. His breathing became heavy, his heart thumped against hers, and his
whispers more urgent.

"Abbey. Yes, yes... oh, yes."

Then, as if his self control had suddenly awoken, his
hand moved from her breast, down to her panties. A finger explored around the
lacy edge. He pushed aside the fabric and his fingers delved inside. When he
touched her swollen core, Abbey gasped and her thighs convulsed, sending the
water lapping around their shoulders.

She kissed him hard on the lips without letting go of
his thick erection. She continued her massaging, her cupping and rubbing, and
his own stroking intensified, as if urged on by his growing desire.

When a long finger slipped inside her, Abbey bit his
lip, her body instinctively pushing into him so the finger could go deeper. The
hot pulses inside her quickened and expanded. A muscle convulsed in anticipation.

The finger eased out, slowly, excruciatingly slowly.

"No, don't stop," she whispered against his
lips. Her own stroking increased as if to encourage him, and she heard him
catch his breath.

The palm cupping her dragged against her, rubbing the
engorged nub and again Abbey's thighs convulsed. Then, without warning, not one
but two fingers shot into her.

The palm rubbed, teasingly touched the sensitive spot,
as the fingers drew in and out, sending her into a frenzy.

Damien grunted, sucked in two quick, ragged breaths
and withdrew his hand, at the same time removing hers from his throbbing
erection. Then with a hard, desperate thrust of his hips, he dove into her to
the hilt and let out a long, low growl.

The water at their shoulders sloshed as they moved
together, lips and bodies locked in a wet, hot kiss until convulsions gripped
them both.

When Abbey's body finally stopped shuddering, she
looked up from where she'd let her head fall on Damien's shoulder and she
smiled weakly.

He smiled back at her, and the arm around her back
gripped tighter, drawing her closer. He held her for a long moment until she
finally pulled away. A difficult endeavor with her legs still around his waist
and him still inside her.

"We should get back," she said. "Before
anyone notices."

He nodded, swallowed. His expression was serious as he
brushed the hair from her face, then lifted her sunglasses and placed them on
her head.

"Uh, Abbey," he muttered. He touched her
cheek with a finger and kissed the tip of her nose.

"Hmmm?"

"About last night..."

She sighed. She didn't want to talk about last night
anymore. Talking only seemed to raise their tempers and get them into trouble.

"I know," she said, "you're sorry. I
forgive you."

His eyebrows rose. "Really?"

"Don't sound so surprised. Yes, I do, but let's
drop the subject, okay?"

He seemed to consider that very seriously.

"Abbey, I want to see you again. Tonight,
tomorrow, Friday
—
"

She placed a finger to his lips. "Don't say
anymore. Don't make promises you can't keep."

He stared at her, then shook his head. "I never
do that."

She nodded. He was going to say more. He was going to
ask her to go to Sydney, fly up and meet him there. She couldn't do that. Whatever
happened here, stayed here in Melbourne and mustn't continue. He was married. He
had mistresses. She'd already added to that tally, but that was all she was
going to do. She wasn't going to be made a fool of when he dumped her. Which
she knew he'd do when he got tired of her
—
his profile suggested
he would. She refused to be dealt with that way. She'd learned her lesson with
Tarken.

Besides, she wasn't going to be someone's mistress,
not on any long term basis, anyway. She couldn't do it. It was way too gut wrenching
knowing that someone else was sharing your man. This man. No. It would hurt for
a while when he left to return to Sydney, but it had to end. It was for the
best.

Because, Abbey realized, she wanted it all. Marriage,
babies, one man, one woman. Love. And, it seemed this man wasn't able to give
any of those things to her. Not exclusively.

It was just sex to him. He'd already said so. He'd
made it clear that this was nothing more to him that a nice way to spend a few
days in a new city.

Hell, the guy probably still thought she was a hooker,
despite his apology. That wouldn't surprise her either. Damien Vane wouldn't
have any qualms about continuing a sexual relationship with a professional. It
fitted his profile exactly.

But despite the enjoyment she got out of sleeping with
him, there was no way she was going to continue the liaison beyond this week. Perhaps
she'd stop it after today, now. It was beginning to sap her energy. Not the sex
—
the
emotion.

Abbey closed her eyes to try to block out the pain. Why
did it feel this way? It wasn't supposed to. Not after two nights, not with a
man who had a different woman for every week in the year.

Not with a man who had a wife.

She unlocked her legs from his waist and swam to
shallower waters where she could stand. She heard him splashing after her. When
he caught up, he stood in front of her, blocking her path.

He stared down at her intensely, his eyes suddenly
darker, ominous. She pulled her sunglasses back down so he couldn't see hers. She
didn't want him to identify the sadness there.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

She shrugged. "Sure."

He took a deep breath. "So will I see you
again?"

"Maybe."

He nodded solemnly. "I see."

She didn't know what he saw. A hooker? A woman who
slept with a man while her friend took photos? A woman in deeper than she
wanted to be?

If he still believed she was a hooker, maybe Abbey
should play up that angle. At least when he thought she was a hooker he was
cold towards her, and that made it easier for her to hate him. Right now she
preferred to hate him than accept the other emotion that was developing.

On the other hand, maybe he realized he couldn't have
her because he already had too many women in his life. Maybe he was one of
those men who actually fell in love with all his mistresses to some degree. She'd
read about them. They fall in love with women, all women, and end up sleeping
around, thinking they're in love with each of them. Until the next woman comes
along and they fall in love all over again. In reality they're just men unable
to maintain a commitment to one single woman.

That sounded like Damien Vane, the man in the profile
in Lucy's filing cabinet.

It didn't sound like the man she'd just made love to. But
what did she know? She'd met him only two days ago, on the day she learned that
her long-term boyfriend had cheated on her. When it came to instincts, Abbey's
had led her a merry dance. She couldn't trust them.

"I see," he said again, moving aside to let
her pass. She swam until her feet touched the sandy bottom and hooked up her
bra and buttoned her dress. Then she waded to where Lucy waited. She wasn't
alone. A large, muscular gorilla-like man slickly oiled from head to toe, lay
beside her.

"You two back already?" Lucy asked, one hand
on the gorilla's forearm. "I was hoping you'd take longer."

"I want to go," said Abbey quickly.

"Well, I was thinking of hanging around a
bit."

"Yeah," said the gorilla.

"Why don't you two go get yourselves a drink and
I'll meet you somewhere later," Lucy suggested.

"Yeah," said the gorilla.

"Why not?" said Damien. "I saw a nice
bar
—
"

"No!" Abbey stormed off. Hadn't he worked it
out yet? Did she have to spell it out to him? This couldn't go any further. It
was wrong.

A small arm snaked around her. Lucy was by her side,
squeezing her waist.

"Sorry, Abbey Girl, I got a bit carried away. Wherever
you want to go, we'll go there."

Abbey suddenly felt very tired. "I want to go
home."

"Sure thing. I'm sorry. I thought you and Vane
were getting on fine. It looked like it from where I was sitting. I started
getting antsy while I watched so when that guy came over I thought I'd fill in
some time talking to him. Well," she giggled, "not really talking. The
guy can't string two words together."

Abbey giggled despite herself. She turned, looked over
her shoulder, telling herself she was having another look at Lucy's gorilla. But
her eyes were drawn only to Damien, who stood semi-naked, dripping wet, and
staring after her.

***

Nick half expected
—
hoped
—
Abbey
would be at the hotel when the taxi dropped him off. But she wasn't. She wasn't
in the foyer and she wasn't in his suite.

It was frustrating. She was frustrating. He didn't
understand her. One minute she wanted him, the next she was shrugging him off.

He turned on the shower and stood under the running
water. It was cleansing, washing away the salt, the sand, Abbey.

But it didn't wash away the image of her face, her
cheeky grin and her pouting, kissable lips.

What had happened in the water today? She'd been so
keen, then so cold. He could almost see her mind ticking over, weighing
something up, digesting.

Did she not believe him when he said he was sorry? Did
she think that he still thought she was a hooker?

Nick placed his hands against the cool blue tiles and
bent his head forward. The water rushed down his neck, his spine, soothing,
much like Abbey's fingers had done on the first night she'd entered his room.

Or was she just concerned that this was going too far?
That a one night-stand should be just that
—
one night.

In truth, it was beginning to worry him now too. CEO's
don't fall for loose women in strange cities. They date nice, respectable women
with moneyed backgrounds and amenable personalities. Not wild-haired, impudent
women who wear skimpy outfits, and claim to be masseurs.

But if Abbey was concerned that this was going too far
and too fast, why had she agreed to make love to him in the water today?

Why had he for that matter?

The answer to that was too easy but opened up a whole
new can of worms
—
because he wanted to.

Nick sighed deeply and turned off the taps. He dried
himself, dressed in a light, casual shirt and trousers and opened the door. He
stepped into the corridor, pressed the elevator button and waited.

In the foyer, he strode to the reception desk and
waited impatiently for the dark-haired woman on duty to finish checking in
another guest.

"May I help you, Mr. Vane?" she asked.