Charmed: Destiny Romance (6 page)

‘You, uh, might want to move your hand.’

‘Huh? Oh. Oops.’ Now her cheeks were flaming.

Michael wasn’t sure which was worse – her hand on his cock, or her hand
not
on his cock. He guessed in this scenario there was only one right answer, even if he didn’t like it.

‘I guess we’d better get changed.’

‘Yeah.’ Getting changed wasn’t going to be much help. Especially not in the open room that the yoga centre called a ‘unisex changing facility’.

Mel slipped out from beside him and ran into the room. By the time Michael strolled in – having taken a moment or two to try to will his out-of-control body into line – she’d grabbed her bag and headed for the furthest corner, back to him.

Fine.

Michael did the same, placing his bag in the diagonally opposite corner and concentrating step by step on each item of clothing as he removed and replaced it. He refused to allow himself to think about Mel doing exactly the same just steps away.
Refused
.

‘I think we should get ice cream,’ Mel said, just as he was spraying deodorant under his arms. He threw the can into his duffel bag and zipped it up. He refrained from reminding her that it was his turn to choose their activity. He hadn’t thought of anything anyway – his brain was too otherwise occupied.

‘Ice cream?’ He considered. Probably not a bad idea given they both needed to cool down. ‘Yeah. Okay. But we have to go to St Kilda.’

‘St Kilda? Why?’

‘Because that’s where the best ice cream is. I’m driving.’

Mel shrugged and gave him a small smile. She seemed embarrassed about her earlier wantonness.

Michael grabbed her hand in his as they made their way out of the deserted building. At the door, he stopped and turned to her. ‘After ice cream,
I’m
deciding what we do.’

She looked up at him, her eyes dark and troubled. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to kiss that unease away. But she nodded and squeezed his hand.

He realised that his declaration had perhaps been a little too forceful. A surge of regret and weird protectiveness went through him – he hated to see her looking so uncertain, especially since it was his actions that had caused that uncertainty in the first place. She needn’t worry about him forcing her into anything – he’d never do that, regardless of the fire of their passion earlier.

He stroked that wayward lock of hair behind her ear. ‘Mel? You have no reason to be afraid of me.’

‘What makes you think I’m afraid of you?’

He shrugged. ‘I hope you’re not. But in the remote possibility that you were, I just thought I’d let you know you don’t need to be. I am capable of controlling myself, even if kissing you does seem to do my head in.’ He couldn’t help a short laugh.

Mel laughed, too. ‘I know what you mean.’

‘I’m glad.’

‘And . . .’ She looked away for a moment, then met his eyes again, her expression slightly pained. ‘And thank you for saying that. It’s good to know.’

Two scoops of vanilla-hazelnut-with-toffee-swirl should have been cooling her down, but Mel wasn’t feeling cool at all.

When they’d got changed at yoga, Michael hadn’t bothered with his shirt or jacket, and despite the chill in the air, was walking around in just his jeans and T-shirt. A T-shirt with sleeves that stretched slightly around his arms. And if Mel had been asked to define just exactly what it was about Michael that made her lose her breath a little when she looked at him, she’d blame those sleeves.

‘How’s your ice cream?’ Michael mumbled through a mouthful of his own mango-lime-macadamia.

Mel considered the luscious, creamy flavours in her mouth. ‘It’s fantastic.’

She handed money over to the guy at the counter and he beamed. ‘I’m glad to hear you like our ice cream,’ he said.

‘Is this your place?’ Mel asked.

The guy nodded. ‘Yeah. Been open two months. Business is a bit quiet right now – should have listened to everyone when they told me not to open an ice-cream store going into winter.’ He shrugged.

Mel surreptitiously slipped off her ring for a moment, instantly registering the wave of worry from the young store owner and seeing a wall covered in overdue bills. She closed her eyes for a moment – taking a bite of ice cream at the same time to cover the action – so she could see into the future. What she saw was a line of customers out on the street. Something to do with . . .

‘Do you have frozen yoghurt?’ she asked.

‘Yeah, a small selection, but I was thinking of expanding it.’

‘You definitely should. And soup. For winter.’

He gave her a puzzled but pleased smile. ‘Funny you should say that, I’ve just been working on some soup ideas.’

Mel leaned close to the counter. ‘Your father’s minestrone will be a hit.’

His jaw dropped a little. ‘Um, right. Wow, yeah, I haven’t thought about that in years. I wonder where the recipe is?’

‘Your mother has it. I mean, she probably does. You should ask her.’

‘Uh, yeah. Okay.’

‘What was that about?’ Michael asked as soon as they left the shop. They began to wander back towards the beach where Michael had parked the car.

Oops. Too carried away with how good she was feeling, she forgot Michael was watching and didn’t know about her abilities. She’d have done the same thing if Aunt Gertrude had been with her and wouldn’t have thought twice. Her comfort with Michael was the problem – she forgot that he didn’t
really
know her.

‘Just a little business advice.’

‘Yeah but how did you know about his father’s soup recipe?’

‘Read about it in the paper,’ Mel improvised.

‘But —’

‘The place got reviewed,’ Mel continued, bluffing. ‘Best ice cream in Melbourne, apparently. By the way, exactly how much ice cream do you eat?’ She needed to change the subject.

Michael studied her, but seemed to decide to go with her. ‘It’s my favourite – I could have it for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I eat a lot of ice cream.’

Mel poked him in the stomach and was rewarded with her finger bouncing off his tight abdomen.

‘Enough to keep me going to the gym,’ he said with a quirk of his mouth.

They walked past Luna Park and across the road until they were both finishing off their treats in front of the sand of St Kilda beach. The wind had picked up and as Mel popped the last bite of waffle cone in her mouth she hugged her jacket more tightly around herself.

‘Cold?’ Michael asked.

She shrugged and swallowed. ‘The wind.’

‘And the ice cream in your belly.’

‘That, too.’

He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her stomach, pulling her back against the warmth of his body.

For a moment Mel stood still, unsure what to do. With his body pressed against her, it was like back in the corridor at yoga – almost all her rational-thinking capacities vanished. She’d lie down here on the boardwalk and make love with him until they were both sated – or the police were called, whichever came first. But, also like at yoga, there was something that held her back.

Michael’s lips pressed against her ear. ‘You’re trembling,’ he whispered.

‘Cold,’ she said, because everything else was way too complicated.

There was a beat of silence; they both stood watching the people walking past, the seagulls squabbling nearby.

‘I know what I’d like to do next,’ he said. ‘But only if it’s okay with you.’ He didn’t need to spell it out.

Mel hesitated. But only for a moment. Wasn’t this exactly what Aunt Gertrude had encouraged? For her to get out and exercise her ‘shrivelled up lady parts’? It was hard to admit, but it
had
been too long. And the fire that Michael stoked inside her demanded to be fed. ‘You live nearby, right?’

‘Five minutes in the car.’

‘Let’s go.’ Mel’s stomach swooped, but her mind was resolute. She wanted this. Wanted him. Wanted to find out what it would feel like to be naked with him, touching skin on skin, intimately joined. Would it be anywhere near as powerful as her vision-fantasies?

Michael dropped his arms, but put his hands on her waist to spin her around so they were standing face-to-face.

‘You sure?’ he asked, a searching expression in his eyes.

He had to ask the question because he couldn’t read her mind, Mel reminded herself. Just like she had to do with him.

‘I’m sure.’

Mel gave Michael’s apartment an assessing look. It was orderly, if a little sparse. The furniture was clearly expensive, the large combined living/dining/kitchen spacious. A huge television screen dominated one wall, while large windows gave a glimpse of ocean a couple of blocks away. There wasn’t much in the way of decoration, although a dusty surfboard was awkwardly placed near the front door.

‘Nice place,’ she said.

‘Thanks.’

A slight unease descended as Michael threw his keys into a tray on the kitchen counter, dumped his gym duffel bag in a corner and pulled off his boots.

Mel also stepped out of her shoes and shrugged out of her jacket, more to have something to do with her hands than because she was overly warm.

Out of nowhere, a wave of nerves settled over her.

‘You okay?’ Michael asked.

Mel forced herself to unknot her fingers and put a smile on her face. ‘Fine!’

‘Would you like a drink?’

‘Water’d be great.’

She watched as he opened a cupboard, found a glass, filled it with water and handed it to her. His body moved lithely, smooth and graceful for someone so tall and broad.

Their fingers touched when he handed her the glass and that electrified-warm-bath feeling was back and all the tension flowed out of her. She drained the glass, discarded it on the nearby counter, and put her hand on Michael’s arm.

‘You’re really tall,’ she said.

He chuckled. ‘I get that a lot.’

She stepped closer, feeling proud of her boldness. ‘Do you have an extra big bed?’

Michael looked down at her, his eyes dark. ‘Do you want to see?’

‘Yes, I want to see.’

Taking her hand in his, Michael led her into the bedroom. Although it was still bright outside, the plantation-style shutters across the windows were mostly closed, giving the room a comfortable dimness.

‘I guess it’s pretty big,’ she said, gesturing to the bed and its chocolate-brown comforter.

Michael ignored her. Instead, he took her muslin scarf in his hand and gently unwound it from around her. His fingers brushed her neck as he did and her knees were suddenly trembling.

Perching up on tiptoes, she did exactly what she wanted him to do to her – she pressed her lips against his throat, right at the collar of his T-shirt. She darted out her tongue to taste his salty skin – a delicious contrast to the ice-cream flavours still in her mouth.

Michael stood still, his hand resting on her waist as if to balance her, while she kissed him. Her hands explored his chest and shoulders – hard and bumpy in all the right places. When she lowered one hand to lift his shirt and put her fingers against the bare skin of his belly, he jumped and let out a growling noise from the back of his throat.

Before she knew it, he’d lifted her up and tossed her on the bed like a teddy bear. She laughed, but it was immediately swallowed by Michael’s mouth on hers, his body hovering over her. Just like back at yoga, his kiss was instantly demanding, his lips melding to hers, hard and needy. But Mel wasn’t to be deterred from her original goal.

‘T-shirt,’ she said against his lips, as her fingers fought to find the hem. ‘Off.’

Michael mumbled something, but then he sat back and in one fluid movement ripped the shirt off over his head.

‘Wow.’ The view was better than she could have hoped for: tanned skin, a generous sprinkle of darkly golden brown hair, rounded shoulders and a taut belly. He had a cute little belly button and a trail of hair that led down . . .

‘Jeans off, too,’ she ordered.

Michael grinned and ran a hand through his ruffled hair – messy from removing his shirt. ‘Babe, I think that’d be a little unfair. Given you’re still fully dressed.’

‘I don’t have my scarf on,’ she pointed out. ‘Or my jacket.’

‘True.’

Michael grabbed her hands and pulled on them, and Mel found herself sitting up and lifting off her blouse. She didn’t really own any particularly sexy lingerie, but Michael was staring at her plain white cotton and lace bra as if it were the answer to life itself.

‘Gorgeous,’ he said on a breath.

It was all the encouragement she needed to reach for the clasp of her bra and strip it off.

Then he didn’t say anything, because his mouth was back on hers. Mel wrapped her arms around his neck to bring them closer together, sighing when bare skin met bare skin. Michael took the opportunity slip his tongue against hers, a hot, delectable slide that promised more to come.

Michael repositioned them effortlessly, without taking his mouth from hers. Once again, Mel found herself lying on her back, Michael’s hard body pressing into her, the exquisite tickle of his chest hair teasing her nipples, the weight of his thigh between her legs torturing her desperate clit.

When his mouth left hers to stake a trail down her throat, nibbling wet kisses along the way, she couldn’t help arching into him.

‘Michael,’ she said, because she couldn’t form any other words.

He lowered his head to take one nipple between his lips, gently tugging and sucking, while he cupped her other breast with his hand, scissoring the nipple between his fingers, stroking her skin with his thumb.

‘Michael!’

He continued his delicious torture until Mel thought she might lose her mind if he didn’t move things along. She was rubbing her pelvis against the heat of his leg, not caring how desperate it might make her seem.

Then he twisted, bringing both his legs inside hers, their groins lined up and ready – if it weren’t for the layers of clothing between them.

Mel made a guttural noise of frustration.

Michael chuckled and finally let up on his worship of her breasts, pressing his hands into the bed beside her so he could arch back and look down on her.

She was enchanted. It was as though the glow from the sunshine outside gave him a halo, his brown hair suddenly gleaming with flecks of gold. The image of the angel card sprang to mind, and she wouldn’t have been at all surprised if splendid, gleaming white wings suddenly unfurled behind his back.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ he said softly.

‘I was just thinking the same thing.’

‘But you’re supposed to think “handsome” when it’s a guy.’

Mel shook her head. ‘No. “Beautiful” is right.’

He gave her an indulgent smile. ‘I think I’d like for you to be beautifully naked, right now.’

‘Finally!’

He laughed and rolled to the side so they could both strip off their jeans and underwear. When they rolled back together, skin-to-skin along the length of their bodies, Mel’s breath caught at the wonder of it. And at the solidity and heat of the cock pressed against her belly.

A part of her wanted to stop and analyse the moment – to make a note of how wonderful it felt, and how freeing it was to be naked with someone and not be hearing their inner thoughts. Although experience had taught her that generally by the time a guy had a woman naked, he wasn’t at all focused on her faults, it was still nice not to have to pretend to ignore stray thoughts about the size of her thighs or the little roll of fat around her ribs.

But the rest of her desperate self drowned out that small part – now wasn’t the time for conversation. Especially not when Michael’s fingers slipped down her belly and between her legs, gently probing and teasing.

He groaned when she opened her legs wider for him. ‘Baby, you’re really wet.’

Mel remembered the moment she’d first set eyes on him – all dishevelled, pushing rain-soaked hair back from his face. She’d known, even then. ‘That’s because I want you.’

I think, somehow, I’ve always wanted you.

His clever fingers stroked her deftly, spreading her moisture before finding her clit and giving her the pressure she needed.

‘Yes, touch me, Michael. Please touch me.’

‘I’m touching you,’ he said, sounding almost as breathless as she did. ‘Is it good?’

Mel pressed herself into his hand. ‘More.’

Michael obeyed her, increasing his speed, bringing her to the brink in a heartbeat.

‘I want . . .’ Mel whispered, not even sure what it was. It was just
more
.

Michael read her mind, his fingers dipping lower to her vagina, drawing teasing circles there.

‘Please,’ Mel begged.

‘Please what? Please stop touching you?’ His fingers maddeningly stopped moving.

‘No!’

‘Oh, you mean please keep touching you?’

‘Bastard.’

He laughed.

Mel almost laughed with him, but then he drove two fingers deep inside her, and she could barely remember to breathe.

His fingers pulsed inside her and then his thumb took up the same rhythm on her clit. A moan tore from her throat, beyond her control.

Michael bent down to suck her earlobe into his mouth, releasing it with a pop. ‘You’re so hot and wet,’ he whispered. ‘I can’t wait to be inside you.’