PrideandSurrender (4 page)

I shook my head.

“Thank you for telling me.”

I blinked the memory away, shifting my gaze from the
photograph to him. Why? That was all I could think. I had to know. “Why, after
all the time we’ve known each other, when there’s been nothing but animosity
between us, are you doing this now? What’s your motive?”

A smile curved over his lips. “There’s my Juliet.”

Shivers raced through me, and I fought to keep the tremble
from him. There was the “my” again. The possession, the claiming, I was ashamed
at how much I wanted it. Craved to make it absolute truth.

I tilted my head to the side, my eyes narrowing, but I said
nothing.

He shrugged. “Has it really been animosity between us?”

“Yes,” I stated in a firm tone, refusing to acknowledge what
he was getting at.

“Liar.” His thumb traced circles on my thigh, right over my
knee. Soft and insistent, he moved higher along the inside of my leg, and my
body heated at his touch, my panties growing damp. He twisted, moving closer,
sliding his arm around the back of the couch to surround me. “You can wish it was
a thousand different emotions than what it is, Juliet.”

I knew, of course, what
it
was, but I couldn’t even
think it, let alone say it. More than anything I wanted to hear him say it, but
it terrified me too much and I’d already given him more than I’d given anyone
in a very long time.

I glanced away, looking out the window, staring at the
skyline in the distance. Tightness filled my throat and I willed myself not to
break down.

We stayed like that for a long time. A thick silence
permeated the air as I watched the white fluffy clouds roll slowly past the
Chicago skyscrapers. The clear, brilliant blue a perfect photo background.
Outside, the temperature was a mild eighty degrees with low humidity. A rare
day in a city where it was often too hot or too cold.

I experienced a strange urge to go stretch out on a blanket
at Oak Street beach and let the sun warm my skin. It had been forever since I’d
done that. On impulse, I turned to him and found him watching me with that
studied gaze. I cleared my throat. “What are your plans for the rest of the
afternoon?”

Surprise flickered in his green eyes. “I kept my calendar
clear.” A smile spread over his lips. “I was feeling hopeful.”

My gaze swept over the food. “I know you went through a lot
of trouble, but the beach isn’t far from here, and it’s beautiful outside.” My
tone turned hesitant, and a sudden shyness left me stammering like a
sixteen-year-old asking a boy to her first turnabout dance. “Can we… Would
you…like to spend the afternoon with me?” A hot flush fanned up my neck and
spilled onto my cheeks.

He leaned in and kissed me. It was hard, fast and over much
too soon. When he pulled back, I saw none of the triumph I’d expected to read
in his face, instead the corners of his eyes crinkled as he gave me that heartbreaker’s
smile. “I would love to, Juliet.”

Thirty minutes later I was exactly where I wanted to be. I
kicked off my shoes and abandoned them in the sand. The fine, soft grains slid
over my bare toes as I wiggled and they shifted over my skin. Sinking down on
the blanket next to Christos, I was surprised to see he’d discarded his shoes
and socks and rolled up his jeans.

I stared at his feet, for a man they were nice, strong-boned
and masculine. It felt intimate and familiar somehow to be sitting here with
him, our feet bare, sharing the light blue blanket I kept in my office for just
this occasion. I didn’t want to think about what was happening or where this
was going or where we’d end up. For once, all I wanted was to enjoy the moment
and not worry.

I raised my face to the sun, closed my eyes and breathed in
deep. The smell of the lake, the warm breeze, the waves gently lapping against
the shore mixed with the sounds of the city to create a melody that had my
muscles relaxing.

I opened my eyes when I could no longer ignore the man
sitting next to me. Without looking at him, I said, “You’re staring.”

“I can’t help it.” He wrapped his strong fingers around my
wrist. “You’re beautiful.”

Uncomfortable with his praise, I turned to him. “You don’t
have to keep saying that.” I waved my hand in the air, taking in the scene
around us. “You’re winning.”

Instead of rising to the bait, he shrugged. “I’m winning
because you want me too. I’m telling you you’re beautiful because that’s what I
think.” He gave me a wicked grin. “Haven’t you heard I have impeccable taste?”

I had actually, but I rolled my eyes instead of affirming
his statement.

Tracing a finger over the fine bones in my hand, he said,
“Once you know me better, you’ll see I call it like I see it.”

“Oh?” The day too perfect to ruin, I lost all the steam I’d
been planning to build. “So what would you change about me in this moment?”

His lips quirked and he gave me a long, slow once-over that
had my toes curling in the sand. “Right now, two things.”

Most men would have given me a “not a thing” line that would
be as transparent as cellophane, but not Christos. A tiny grain of what felt a
lot like trust wormed its way into my heart. He trailed a hand up my bare arm
and fingered the band holding my dark-blonde hair back. “I like your hair down
better.” He slipped it out before I could answer, and that luxurious sensation
of the strands slipping free of its bindings to fall loose and free around my
shoulders had shivers running up and down my spine.

His long fingers tangled in my hair, combing through the
locks. I tilted my head back, closed my eyes to the bright sun, and let him do
what he wanted. How long had it been since I’d been touched like this? With
care? And while I knew he wanted me—the sexual tension between us grew by the
second—his touch, curiously, held no expectation. “Do you remember the
Solutions Inc presentation?”

“Of course.” I’d had to sit in an enclosed room with him for
over an hour, with a bunch of high-powered professionals in black suits. We’d
been positioned across from each other and my attention kept drifting off the
men responsible for the decision making and onto the man across from me.

That had been one job I hadn’t had to wonder why I lost.

He swept my hair to the side and moved to kneel behind me. A
soft brush of lips along the curve of my neck had me going stiff. Those large
palms of his ran over my shoulders and began to knead tight muscles until I
relaxed under him once again. When his thumbs pressed into a knot in my shoulder
and circled, I was unable to hold back the moan.

“Feel good?”

“Yes.” Was that my voice? All soft and sweet?

“Good,” he said, and increased his pressure until the knot
magically loosened and released. “At the presentation, you had your hair bound
into this tight twist at the nape of your neck.” His fingers brushed over the
spot as though remembering. “And all I could think about was taking those pins
out, one by one, until your hair looked exactly like it does right this
second.”

“A mess?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “I like you messy.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, maybe because it makes you real.” His thumbs
found another knot and began to knead. “I might have had some other impure
thoughts.”

The sun warming my skin and his hands on my back had my
muscles feeling liquid, a smile tugged at my lips. “I’m not touching that one.”

“Chicken,” he said with a chuckle. His mouth dropped down to
the shell of my ear. “What if I tell you anyway?”

“I think we’ve already proven I can’t stop you.” My breath
caught in my throat as I sat perched on the edge of expectation. Wanting to
know his thoughts but unwilling to ask for them.

“The suit you had on was this dark gray number with a wide
belt and sky-high black heels that made you look like you’d stepped out of the
Maltese Falcon.” The seduction in his tone made my nipples puckered tight. “In
my fantasy, after I took down your hair, I would strip you of your belt, that
jacket, rip your blouse right off.”

Mouth suddenly dry, I licked my lips, tasting the summer air
on my skin along with desire. His hands slid down my back, working out the
kinks. Anticipation flowed in my blood like fine wine. “All I could think about
was pushing your skirt over your thighs and spreading you across that table. I
can picture you there, arms stretched wide, your legs spread, cunt wet. I’d
like to pretend I thought about lavishing your body with the attention it
deserves, but that would be a lie.”

My lungs began to burn and I realized I’d stopped breathing.
I sucked in air and tried to calm my pounding heart. Liquid heat pooled between
my thighs, and my clit swelled with each passing word he spoke.

“Do you want to know what I imagined?” he asked, his mouth
still next to my ear while his fingers rubbed the bumps of my spine.

“Yes.” The word was out before I could stop it, and I leaned
against his chest as I’d been wanting to all day. Teeth gently scraped the line
of my jaw and his arms came around my waist so his large palms slid over my
stomach.

With a few simple words he’d managed to turn me on more than
most men ever had. He shifted behind me, bracketing his thighs with mine until
his cock nudged my lower back. Unable to help it, I stiffened, and his fingers
stroked as he murmured nonsensical sounds in my ear until I was once again
limp.

“I wanted to take you,” he said. “Fuck you. Possess you.
Fill you up until my come spilled onto your thighs.”

Legs quivering, I bit down on my bottom lip, thankful that I
was sitting down. His fantasy had been my fantasy too. I wanted what he wanted.
I wanted to be claimed. Filled. I too had thought of him spreading me over that
glossy mahogany conference table. That day, we’d been sitting across from each
other thinking the exact same thing. Although, unlike him, I could never admit
it.

Behind me, he moved, and all his heat left with him. I sat
up, straightening my back until my posture was once again proper. Loss washed
through me as the mood broke and I cooled in an instant. I feared I’d never be
that relaxed with him again. That somehow if there was ever a time I was going
to give in, it was now. Irrational anger that it had been stolen away pricked
over my skin.

A large palm stroked over my spine. “Relax, Juliet, I’m not
going anywhere.”

I hated that he saw me so clearly. Saw everything—my need
for him, my fear and my hope. Vulnerable was not good, he could crush me and I
was letting it happen. Before I could say anything scathing, he’d stretched out
his legs and was pulling me down to his lap.

Brows snapping together, I glared at him. “What are you
doing?”

“I thought you’d be more comfortable.” His fingers curled
around my wrist. “You need to eat.”

“Are you crazy?”

“Obviously.” Irritation flashed in his eyes and he raked his
free hand through his hair. “Christ, Juliet, a man needs the patience of a
saint with you. Now get over here.”

His disgruntled expression and commanding tone calmed me in
a way that softness couldn’t have. I needed that, his humanness in the face of
mine. In answer, I shifted, until I could lie on my back and put my head on his
thigh.

He brushed my hair off my cheeks. “Was that so hard?”

“Yes.” I met his gaze. “But it was easier than it should
be.”

“Progress,” he said, reaching into the bag next to him to
pull out one of the sandwiches he’d brought to my office. Green eyes flicked to
my mouth, clinging for a moment before he sighed and handed it to me.

Our fingers touched and a jolt of awareness ran up my arm.
Damn chemistry. It was so strong between us, almost a live, tangible thing. It
messed everything up, made him impossible to resist.

For today, I decided, I didn’t need to think about it. The
truth was I wanted to be with him. In this moment, I wanted to forget
everything but him. I wanted to forget all the reasons I was sure he’d hurt me.
I’d been aching for him and now he was here.

I’d treat it like the gift it was. For now.

I unwrapped the paper that held the lunch he’d brought me.
It was a girl sandwich, stuffed full of vegetables and some sort of white
spread on multi-grain bread. Suddenly my stomach growled and I realized how
empty it was. I took a bite, it was delicious and I moaned with appreciation.
When I swallowed, I said, “This is so good.”

“I got it from a store by my office, the girl at the counter
insisted you’d love it.” He toyed with a lock of my hair as he smiled down at
me.

“Aren’t you eating?”

“I will later.” He chuckled. “I’m assuming you don’t want
stray crumbs falling over your face.”

“True enough, but I can get up.” I moved to sit up, but the
palm of his hand flattened over my stomach, pushing me back down.

“Don’t even think about it.” His thumb stroked the under
curve of my breast and my nipple beaded as though begging to be touched. “I’ve
pictured you lying like this a million times, and you’re not ruining it for
me.”

I blinked up at him. “You have?”

“Yes, Juliet. I have.” He trailed a finger over my ribs,
between the swells of my breasts, over my collarbones before shifting strands
of my hair through his fingers. “I don’t just want your body—although I want
that almost to the point of desperation—I want
you
. All of you.”

The afternoon passed with a laziness I hadn’t experienced in
a long time. To my surprise, Christos was fun to be around. As the hours
slipped by, so did my guard and I found myself relaxing. In all the ways I’d
pictured being with him, lying comfortably on a beach wasn’t one of them.

He told me about his family, his mother and father who’d
come over as Greek immigrants to rear him and his two younger sisters in
America. He entertained me with stories of summers in Greece and even managed
to slip in wanting to take me there. He said his family lived in a tiny village
off the sea and it was the most beautiful spot in the whole world, and I
believed him.

I listened with rapt attention, asking him questions I’d
always wanted to know but never dared to think I’d get a chance to ask. His
parents were still alive and he went to their house for dinner every Sunday
night. He was close to his sisters and their families. He had three nieces and
two nephews who he adored and lavished with so many gifts he’d been admonished
by his sisters.

He laughed. “My sister Anna didn’t appreciate it when I
brought Peter a drum set.”

A wide grin split my face, and I shook my head. “He’s the
nine-year-old?”

“Yes. Demetrius,” he said, rolling the word over his lips so
it was pronounced with an accent, “is eighteen months, a little too young to be
a drummer.”

I tucked a lock of hair behind my ears. “You know she’ll pay
you back someday.”

“That’s her promise.” His expression resigned but his
affection was clear in his tone. “I’ve gotten my fair share of drum solos left
on my voice mail.”

Since the day I’d met him I’d built him up in my mind as
someone remote and untouchable, to find him so incredibly down to earth made my
perception shift. It’d been swaying for weeks, but now it settled. For the first
time I looked at him and saw not the adversary or the untouchable Greek god but
the man. Turned out he was human after all.

Those green eyes caught mine and the world melted away.
Silence and heat took the place of the cars and people. The waves lapping along
the sand faded into the background and it was just us.

His eyes darkened, and a subtle alertness tensed his
muscles. Full lips falling open, as if to say something. Amazed, I watched the
intake of his breath expand his chest before he pressed his mouth closed.

I
do this to him. Me. I put the desire and hunger in
every line of his face.

I gave up. Right then and there in the middle of Oak Street
beach, I touched him. Reached for him. One finger slid over the line of his
strong jaw, I marveled as he tensed under my touch. I traced spot under his
ear, smoothed over the cords of his neck, skimmed over his Adam’s apple, into
the hollow of his throat. His mouth beckoned, and I ran the pad of my thumb
over the curve of his lower lip. Smooth and slightly damp, the brush of skin
acted like an electric shock that rocketed up my arm in an explosion of
tingles.

Tension radiated off him. I loved the coil of his muscles,
the pull and bunch under my fingertips. Reveled in the way he held himself in
check as he let me explore.

Dominance was part of his nature and I knew how hard it was
for him not to take over. It made me want him all the more. Moreover, it made
me want to feel that passion unleashed and unrestrained.

I dipped my head so our mouths were only a fraction of an
inch apart, but instead of kissing him, I licked. Ran my tongue over his bottom
lip. Stroking. Teasing. Pleasure and desire spiraled through me as his fingers
dug into my thighs, but he remained absolutely still and let me have my way.