Heller’s Decision (5 page)

“
Oh God, Matilda,” he groaned, squeezing my
breasts roughly. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

I didn’t get a chance to say a word before
he ground his lips onto mine and forced his tongue into my mouth.
There was nothing gentle about him, his thrusts hot and urgent,
jolting my entire body and making me repeatedly bang my head on the
bedhead.

He freed my lips for an instant, allowing
us both to draw in some air.

“
Heller . . .” I managed to stutter as he
drove into me again and again, not sure if I was begging him to
stop or pleading with him to continue.

“
It feels so good,” he gasped, doubling the
speed of his thrusting and frantically claiming my lips
again.

I endured the brisk pounding a while
longer until he growled down
low in his throat, his body freezing as he spurted deep
inside me. Depleted and panting wildly, he rolled off me and
flopped down on his back, taking a moment to finally kick off his
pants. A sheen of sweat glistened on his brow.

“Well, hello to you too,” I said, a little
snippy, hoping my brains would soon stop rattling.

He smiled into the darkness and leaned over
to kiss me gently. “Hello, my sweet. I’m sorry that wasn’t a very
pleasurable experience for you, but I had a need for you so strong
I couldn’t contain it. I’ve been literally aching for you
today.”

I guess I should be flattered. “You were a
bit rough, Heller.”

“
I’m sorry. Let me do something to make up
for it.”

He started kissing me, but soon his gentle
kisses turned more demanding, his hand caressing my breast. I
responded to his ardour as I hadn’t been able to his animal lust.
His hand crept lower between my thighs, his fingers dipping in and
out of me, circling and stroking, working their magic. It wasn’t
long before I was arching my back, pressing down on his fingers
with my own to ensure he kept up that particular stroking in that
particular spot.

“Yes. Yes,” I moaned. “Don’t stop. Please.
Oh. Oh.”

He moved his lips down to my breast, his
busy tongue sending tingles right down to my centre that pushed me
soaring over that glorious edge.

It was my turn to lay back, eyes closed,
breathing heavily, every sense throbbing with pleasure. When I
recovered, I rolled onto my side to face him.

“Hello again to you,” I smiled.

He smiled back and stroked my cheek. “Hello
to you too.”

“How was your evening?”

“
Better now.”
I stretched languidly and yawned. He traced around
my breast with a lazy finger. “I love pleasuring you. You enjoy it
so much.”

I laughed. “What woman wouldn’t?”

“I love that you don’t hold back.”

“
I love how you make it impossible for me
to hold back,” I said, reaching over to kiss him.

I nuzzled his neck, covering it in tiny
kisses, my arm thrown across his chest in post-coital
exhaustion.
I
loved this big man in bed with me so much
, I thought dreamily. I revelled in that love;
rejoiced in it. I immersed myself in my feelings for him, snuggling
my body closely against his.

“
I love you, Heller,” I murmured into his
neck. I loved his blond hair. I loved his smooth, tanned skin, his
accent, his long, elegant fingers, his icy blue eyes.

He tightened his arms around me and kissed
my forehead. I looked up and he kissed my lips, a lingering
embrace.
“I know, my
sweet.”

He smiled, his white teeth glinting in the
moonlight. He was beautiful when he smiled. He was beautiful when
he frowned. He was sim
ply beautiful. And he was mine – I think.

After a moment, he spoke again. “Are you
happy with me, Matilda? Is what we
have now good for you? Is it what you
want?”

I kissed him slowly. “Oh yes. I’ve never
been happier.”

He suddenly gripped me tightly, gasping
almost as if in pain.

“
What’s the matter
?” I asked, slightly panicked.

His voice was hoarse as he moved his hand to
his chest. “I just had the most incredible wave of emotion for you.
It startled me as it does every time it happens. I don’t know what
it means.”

I laughed, relaxing again. “That’s called
love, Heller. I’m sorry to break it to you, but I think you love
me.”

“Is that what love feels like?”

“Yes,” I laughed again.

“It’s not what I imagined. It took my breath
away. It felt wonderful and frightening at the same time.”

I leaned on his chest and smiled at him.
“It
is
wonderful and frightening.
Welcome aboard the roller-coaster of love. Don’t forget to strap
yourself in for the ride.”

“
I’m not comfortable with these feelings at
all.”

“
I’m afraid life doesn’t usually give you a
choice about love. Mostly it just happens and you can’t stop it.
And you can’t make yourself feel it either
, if it’s not there for someone.”

“
These emotional matters are too
complicated for me,” he dismissed. I slapped him lightly on the
chest in exasperation. “All I know is that I feel . . .” He
searched for the correct word. “I feel
right
when you’re with me. In balance, as if you give me
something I didn’t even know I needed.”

“
That’s lovely. I think.”

His arms tightened around me again. He
hesitated as he spoke, finding it difficult to admit a weakness of
any kind. “I’m afraid of losing you.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m afraid of someone taking you away from
me.”

“Who could possibly do that?”

“
Someone bad . . . or someone good.” And I
knew he was thinking of Farrell, because my mind flashed to him as
well.

“Nobody’s taking me from you,” I soothed.
“Now try to get some sleep. It’s so late.”

He wouldn’t though, never seemingly
needing more than a couple of hours of sleep each night.
But I was exhausted from my
long, trying day and now the sex as well, so laid my head on his
chest and closed my eyes.

“
I will kill anyone who tries to take you
away from me, Matilda.”

My eyes flew open. “You don’t mean that,” I
said guardedly.

“Don’t I?”

I waited for him to say more, my heart
thumping, but he didn’t and I settled back to sleep. I wanted to
stay awake to think about his chilling words, but sleep claimed me
before I even realised it had.

I didn’t know what he did during those
long, quiet hours of darkness
when he stayed awake. But I often stirred in the night to
find his eyes on me, watching me closely as I slept, an unreadable,
intense expression on his face. Sometimes I would rouse to find him
roaming his hand over my body – not in lust, but almost in wonder,
or as if he was trying to find the answer to a secret puzzle in the
valleys and peaks of my generous curves.

If I were brutally honest with myself, I’d
admit I wasn’t entirely comfortable with his intensity as a lover.
It was not uncommon for us to have sex twice during the night, and
if neither of us was in a hurry, to make it a third time the next
morning. If I stirred during the night, he would often take
advantage of that, his soft caresses turning ardent and insistent.
I remember waking one such night to find him iron hard and stroking
my inner thigh with intent.

“
Oh Heller, not again?
” I’d murmured sleepily.

“
Yes again, my sweet,” he’d replied. “It
seems I have an endless need for you. I never imagined for one
moment how much I would crave having sex with the same woman over
and over.”

So I’d let him screw me again, falling
promptly asleep immediately afterwards
, aware that he’d watch over me as I slept. On the
rare occasions I needed some time away from him and didn’t join him
in his bed, he would, like he had tonight, seek me out and we’d end
up having sex anyway. It was almost as if there was no escaping his
desires. I could not recall ever having so much sex with any of my
other boyfriends or any of them needing it so often. Not that I was
complaining, mind you, because sex with Heller was sensational,
driving every coherent thought from my head every time we got it
on. He knew what he was doing in the bedroom, confidently guiding
my body and my senses to exquisite pleasures and helping me do the
same to him. I’d learned a lot about sex from him and I’d thought I
was fairly experienced as a lover when we began our
relationship.

The next morning I woke up alone as usual,
the side of the bed where Heller had been cool to the touch,
indicating he’d been gone for a while.
He was probably working out in the small gym on
the third floor. But as he no longer allowed me to use that, I
decided not to follow him there, settling instead for a quick
workout in my own flat. My body complained about the exercise, not
having received much in the past few months (apart from my nightly
gymnastic routines with Heller).

I met
him on the stairs as we both made our way down to the
basement carpark, freshly showered and ready for another
day.

“
You might be interested in my newest
clients,” he smiled, casually draping his arm around my
shoulders.

“
Might I?” I smiled back, inhaling the very
masculine scent of the soap he used.

“
In a few days, my men will be looking
after a couple of film stars in town for an exhibition. They’re not
as well-known as Ms Lemere, so the paparazzi shouldn’t be a problem
this time.”

He was referring to Yoni Lemere,
th
e ex-pat A-list
Hollywood star I’d the misfortune of working with for what seemed
at the time to be a very long week. I’d met Trent during that
assignment, a thought that made me check my watch. I wasn’t in any
hurry to get to work today, especially after that embarrassing
incident on TV last night, but I also didn’t want to be
late.

“
Are you going to tell me these movie
stars’ names?” I asked. I loved hearing about celebrities, though
I’d found that meeting them wasn’t all it was cracked up to
be.

His face stayed expressionless. “Busty
Biggen and Roger Harder.”

My face fell with
disappointment
. “I’ve
never heard of them.”

“
Good. I’m glad to hear that, because they
make adult entertainment movies. I understand they’re quite famous
in their profession.”

I laughed. “Busty Biggen and Roger Harder?
What terrible porn names! I assume she’s well-endowed in the chest
region, and he’s equally well-endowed elsewhere?”

“
How would I know, Matilda? Are you
implying that I like to watch pornography?”

“
No, you just like to act it out
personally,” I joked, sliding my arm around his waist and
squeezing.

He squeezed my shoulders in return
and dropped a kiss on the top
of my head. “That’s true, but I’ll admit to doing a certain amount
of . . . research . . . on these clients.”

“
How much ‘research’?”

“
A couple of hours. For investigative
purposes only, of course.”

“
Of course,” I said, my mind spinning a
million miles an hour. “Do you think they would let Trent interview
them? It would make a really interesting story and . .
.”

“A huge ratings hit?” he smiled.

I laughed again. “Well, yes, there is that
too. Everyone would want to tune in for that interview. And after
what happened yesterday, I feel I need to redeem myself with them
at the studio.”

“
Ah yes, that incident. I heard about it
yesterday, but was only able to view the footage this morning.
Knowing you, I shouldn’t be surprised about it, but I honestly
don’t know how you get yourself into those kinds of situations,
Matilda.”

I laughed again, more rueful this time. “I
don’t either. I was trying to be helpful. Instead my butt featured
on TV again
and not in
any flattering way.”

He ran his hand from my shoulder down to
my butt and squeezed lightly. “This lovely peach is worth featuring
on TV. Although . . .” He squeezed again, his hand this time a
little experimental.

“Although what?”

“
Perhaps you should schedule some time soon
for a couple of workouts, my sweet.”

“
Heller! Don’t be mean.”

He smiled slyly
and leaned down to whisper in my ear. A shiver ran
up my spine at even the feel of his breath on my cheek. “Remember,
Matilda, any more than a handful is just a waste.”

“
Luckily you have big hands,” I
retorted, mildly snitty.
Luckily for me, he had a big
everything
.

He laughed and
on the point of reprimanding him again, a polite
cough on the stairs behind us let us know we weren’t alone. We spun
around to find Farrell also heading downstairs to collect one of
the fleet vehicles to go to a job. His face was neutral, but his
cool gray eyes assessed us, lingering on Heller’s hand still
cupping my butt. I tried to discreetly remove his hand,
embarrassed, but Heller didn’t cooperate. He smiled at Farrell in a
way that wasn’t quite pleasant or friendly and deliberately ran his
hand from my butt up to my shoulder and back down again. It was an
unmistakable message –
this woman belongs to me
. I didn’t appreciate it.