Everything You Need: Everything For You Trilogy Book 1 (21 page)

He shakes his head and reaches for the coffee pot. “Coffee?”

“Please.” I sit down and help myself to milk as he folds up the newspaper. “Don’t stop reading on my account.”

“I’m far more interested in news closer to home.” He steeples his fingers and waits.

“It’s decent of you to offer to mentor me.”

“And?”

“I’d be delighted to accept. Grateful.”

He blows out a stream of air. “Well that saves a lot of unnecessary manoeuvring.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Never mind.”

I do a mental soft-shoe shuffle. “But I insist on paying for your time.”

He laughs. “There’s really no need.”

I scowl at him. “I insist.” It’s best not to be beholden any more than I have to be.

His amusement turns to pure challenge. “Okay. But I hardly need the money. What else have you got to offer me?”

I know I’m going to regret this. “What do you want?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “There is one thing.”

“Which is?” I’m sorry I started this already.

“I wouldn’t really bother but the fact is I was so disturbed last night having your scent all over me, in that big bed all alone, that I think it’s only fair.”

“What is?”

“This fantasy I have.”

I’m lost for words.

“Of course, you’re not obliged.” He shrugs. Acts as if he’s not bothered either way. “I don’t require payment of any kind… Only you did make the offer.” He sips his coffee and glances at the headlines, as if the matter’s closed.

Already I realise he’s calling my bluff and suddenly the challenge means more to me than any potential for danger. I adopt as cool an act as he does; as if we’re shooting the hypothetical. “Which fantasy might that be?”

He fixes me without a trace of awkwardness. That’s when I know I’m playing with real burn-you-to-cinders fire. “The one where you’re sitting at my breakfast table, naked, licking peach yoghurt from the corners of your lips. I think I might have mentioned it.”

“You did.” My heart thuds. I berated him for mentioning it last night. “Jack, I…” My voice trails off. My head yells,
no way
. “I see.”

I know from his expression he expects me to refuse. I know, too, he’ll accept my refusal without question. Suddenly I know I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of always being right about me. I scan the table and pick out a carton of yoghurt from a selection sitting in a glass bowl of melting ice, handing it to him. “Open that for me will you?”

Surprise registers briefly on his face as I stand up. It gives me courage. I hold his fascinated stare as I pop each shirt button from top to bottom. He breaks the connection first as his eyes follow my hands down the sliver of exposed skin.

“It’s not necessary,” he tells me but his undertone begs me not to stop.

“A deal’s a deal. You taught me that. And when I make a deal, I deliver.”

His eyes fly to mine and there’s no trace of amusement on his face now. I flick my chin towards the carton in his hand. “Are you going to open it or not?”

He swallows hard, feels around for the tab without taking his eyes off me and starts to peel back the lid. I slip the shirt over my shoulders and let it drop to the chair behind me then stand motionless allowing him to study my body. Payback feels good.

The second he makes the slightest movement towards me, I speak. “The yoghurt?”

He’s distracted for a second as he hands it over and the very fact that he’s stopped in his tracks makes me push things even further. We’ll see who is in control of whom. I sit down, ignoring the spoon and dip my forefinger into the soft, sweet cream instead. I like it when his lips gently move as if I’m feeding him instead of myself. My finger travels to my mouth and slides inside.

I make sure a dollop slips out of the corner of my mouth, so I can lick it off, just the way he wants me to.

If he’s even half as hot under the collar as I am, he’s scorching the shirt off his back by now. His eyes are torn between my mouth and the half of my body visible over the table top. I feel no shame, just a surge of feminine power and I like it.

Again and again I dip my finger and lick and swallow, making sure to scoop up any stray drops teasingly slowly with the extended tip of my tongue. I know just what he’s imagining as he witnesses each thick creamy mass slide over my tongue and between my lips. I swear I hear him groan in hot pleasure as he shifts a little in his chair. But he doesn’t move a muscle, beyond the deep haul in and shove out of breath, until I’m totally done with him. His Arctic blue eyes glitter with pure lust.

I break the tension instantly, flipping the empty pot back onto the table and slipping the shirt up around my shoulders, covering myself from view.

He clears his throat. “Way better than any fantasy, kitten.” His voice sounds raw.

“I never swallowed peach yoghurt before now. I like it.” I stand. “I’m going for a shower.”

Halfway across the room I slip the shirt off again and sling it casually over one shoulder, glancing back to see he hasn’t moved an inch. But his eyes are no longer on mine as I turn and walk away, giving him a view of naked curves as I depart. That’ll teach him to kick me out of bed. But it was a lesson for both of us. Much as I’m grateful for Jack’s offer to mentor me, I have to know I can regain control any time I want to. And let him know it too.

Once I close the bedroom door behind me I want to laugh but I’m quaking too much. I’ve never done anything quite so daring in my life but at least he knows I’m a woman now. I head straight for the shower to pound some of this erotic tension out of my body under jets of hot, steamy water.

As the water cascades, the shower door flies opens behind me. My eyes snap open and I turn to face Jack stepping inside to join me, wholly naked.

“Women who tease men should expect consequences,” he says staring down at me, breathing hard.

“And what about women who do exactly as they’re told?”

“They get a reward. Which one are you?”

“They’re not always mutually exclusive. I thought you liked it.”

“I did.” Holding my head still between his hands, he takes my mouth under his before I can reply. He licks and tastes the residual flavour of sweet peach yoghurt from my mouth.

His hands touch my hips for a second before stroking up over my ribcage, all the way up under my breasts. He tries the weight of them in the palms of his hands before pressing and squeezing. It doesn’t take much to arouse me when he touches me like that, and as I glance down I can see he’s way ahead of me. His thumbs slip back and forth across my nipples making them pucker and swell as erotic chills chase throughout my body.

“I’m such a dirty girl,” I tell him breathlessly. This time it will be him begging me.

“Then let me wash you.” He squeezes shower gel into the palm of one hand, rubs his two palms together and returns to the skin of my breasts soaping and sliding over and around. He pinches my nipples harder the more they slip from his slick grasp and the sharp stimulation zaps straight to my core until I’m arching my pelvis and rising onto my toes compulsively.

“Lower?” he asks.

“Yes.” I place my hands on the strong muscular pads of his pectorals and rake down hard over his nipples with my nails, relishing the tormented sounds wrung from his throat.

Jack’s hand massages suds over my stomach, trailing a thumbnail around my navel before diving fingertips first into the core of me as I gasp at the sudden invasion.

“I knew you’d be wet for me.”

“I’m in the shower.”

“You’re wet. For me.”

“You’re hard for me.” My hand covers his erection tentatively and he freezes as I curl gentle fingers around him. I cautiously stroke up and down the length of him and watch him struggle. I love how I give him pleasure and enjoy the shadow of desire rippling over his features; the dark heat countering the ice cold in his eyes; the half-closed lids and the barely suppressed sounds of bliss that emerge from his throat. The skin stretched over his amazing facial bones contorts into one taut mask of need.

He stops my hand with his. “I’m not giving you this,” he tells me.

“Why not?” I’m wide eyed and willing.

“You’re playing games and that’s not what I want because you don’t yet trust the fact that you want me.”

“That isn’t going to change.” I whimper as his fingertips sweep across my bundled up nerve endings.

“It’ll change. I can wait for what I want. I’ve proved that already.”

His words unnerve me. “Why are you in here then?”

“When you throw down a challenge, I must respond.” He hisses breath between his teeth as I slide velvet skin over the steel core of him. Again and again.

“You’re an opportunist,” I accuse.

“A speculator. An entrepreneur.” He pushes himself deeper into my hand. “Hold tighter. Move your hand faster.” Eloquence quickly eludes him as his primal urges conquer his restraint.

His fingers move deliberately over me until I squirm. My eyes fix on his and I thrill to each variation my touch creates. The sense of authority I experience as his muscles tense or relax to the lightest of my touches as he presses himself into my body, elates me. He fondles my flesh almost to amplify his own desire. My legs weaken and give slightly at the knees. I’m so swollen and bursting with unfulfilled need I’m on the point of guiding him to me and letting the forces of nature and reckless abandon take care of the rest.

“I did what you wanted.” I tremble when his fingers plunge deeper and his thumb takes over tensioning my sex.

I focus sensation on the swollen tip of him until he can barely get the words out. “You. Initiated. It.”

“Mmm... that feels so good, Jack.” My head falls back against the tiles and I brace myself with one hand as my legs turn to liquid.

Jack gathers his senses, stopping my hands with his. “And that extra special exhibition of your pretty little backside?”

“Just showing you what you were missing,” I half-laugh, half-gasp.

“Your little strip-tease made me desire the entire burlesque. I’m only responding to the messages you were sending me. It’s important to avoid ambiguity, Tabitha. Mixed signals are dangerous in any exchange. Personal or professional. Unless everyone is clear about their intentions and each other’s, things can become pretty messed up.”

He grasps my bottom in his two hands, reminding me of what I flashed at him, and I moan at the loss of more centred friction. He grinds my hips into his, rocking me against him.

“If these are the consequences, I happen to like them.”

His eyes narrow. “When did you learn to be so alluring?” He swirls me about pressing the front of me against the shower wall, running his hand down the curve of my spine, stroking the crest and swell of my buttocks and the valley in between.

I reach back to find his body again but he pulls back. “You’re altogether too eager, madam. In business many people would take advantage of that.”

“And in private?”

“You need a little release to calm you down.”

“I will if you will.”

He barks a laugh. “What will you do?” he asks me. He pushes my hair aside to bite me gently on the neck making me jump. His tongue chases rivulets of water up and behind my ear until my flesh shivers.

“For God’s sake, Jack, please...”

“Ask me.”

I don’t care. “Make me come for you.” I struggle round to face him again, the pounding downfall of water robbing me of the only breath Jack’s actions leaves me. I throw one arm about his neck and move in tight.

His hands take over, one at my breast and the other below, playing as my hips rock against his. He rolls my nipple and taps my feet further apart with his. A muscular thigh plants itself between mine and presses against me offering pressure where it’s most pleasurable. I ride him shamelessly and moan.

He doesn’t protest when I touch him again but rolls his hips, pushing himself into my palm, faster and faster, taking the speed and rhythm exactly as he wants it.

“Oh, yes, Jack.” I’m close, finding it hard to breathe.

Before I can go any further he grabs my hand and holds it still against his erection, tight between our bodies. I have no idea what the strange, wild look in his eyes means when he rears back staring into my eyes. I wonder if he knows he almost lost control.

“Good girl,” he gasps and grimaces. “Open your mouth.”

I tilt my lips toward his and he takes me mouth and breast and sex until one massive orgasm overrides all reason and I’m lost, flying, making sounds unrecognisable to my own ears. He curses as he ejects stream after stream in hot violent spurts across my belly, thrusting and pushing me into the wall, using his own flesh to massage it into my skin. He grunts his release wringing everything he has with my hand crushed beneath his, his fingers enticing shock waves of euphoria from me before we’re both spent and the only thing holding me upright is the firm hold he has on me.

His forehead rests against mine, eyes closed, breathing hard as we stand locked together. Our breathing slowly subsides from harshness to something more clearly human and our heartbeats resume normal service.