A Forbidden Affair. Yvonne LindsayЧитать онлайн книгу.
about this?”
His mind nearly exploded as she bent her head and flicked the tip of her tongue over the aching head of his arousal. His penis jumped in response to her touch, a bead of moisture appearing only to be licked away just as quickly. Nicole’s hair brushed against his inner thighs, obscuring her face. He reached down and pushed her hair aside, holding it against the back of her head with each fisted hand. He wanted to see this, all of it. And, just in case, he wanted the camera to see it, too.
Nicole felt an unaccustomed sense of possession as she lightly stroked her tongue along the length of Nate’s erection, painstakingly following the line of each vein from tip to base and back again. Heat rolled off him in waves as she did so and she felt him tremble as he fought to maintain control. But that control shattered the instant she took him fully in her mouth. He groaned, a guttural sound that came from deep in his belly, and she knew the exact moment he was going to climax. She increased the pressure of her mouth, her tongue, increased the rhythm of her movements until he spent himself. She slowed her pace, taking the last drop of his essence as he groaned again, his hands falling to his sides and his body falling back onto the bed behind him.
She pushed herself up onto the bed and lay propped on one elbow alongside him, letting her fingers trail up and down across his belly and chest as he caught his breath once more. His recovery said a whole lot about his fitness and stamina, she thought as he reached one arm up to her and dragged her down to kiss him. Already he was stirring again, and the knowledge gave her a wonderful feeling. It was all because of her.
“Mmm,” she said, her lips bare centimeters from his. “Must be time for breakfast.”
“Not yet,” he said. “I think we should work up a bit more of an appetite first. And I think you should take that shirt off, too.”
He deftly flicked open each button and slid one hand inside, cupping one breast and flicking his thumb across its hardened crest.
“I’m very hungry already,” she purred. “I may take some convincing.”
“You want convincing? I can be convincing,” he said, pushing the shirt off her shoulders and then pressing her onto the bed.
What followed was an education in how someone could deliver a lifetime of hedonistic delight in very short order. Nate applied himself to her with assiduous intent, showing her just how artful he could be with the merest accessories—the tip of a tongue, a feather of breath, the stroke of a fingertip.
She was on the verge of begging, no, screaming for release when he finally sheathed himself with a condom and took them both over the edge of sanity and into a realm where only blithe elation resided.
The camera caught it all.
Their morning set the tone for the next three days. From time to time they would rise, bathe or eat—once taking a long stroll along the beach, Nicole wearing ill-fitting borrowed clothes—before the draw of their fascination with one another would take them back to bed again. By Monday morning Nicole was spent. Physically and emotionally, happy just to curl up against the hard male body beside her and revel in the intimacies they’d shared. Last night Nate had burned a DVD of their video and they’d viewed it while attempting to eat a civilized meal in the main room of the house.
The clothing they’d only recently donned—him in a pair of jeans and T-shirt, her in a sweatshirt of his with the sleeves rolled up and its length skimming the back of her thighs—had soon hit the floor. Their food cooling on their plates as the on-screen activity had incited a new hunger for one another all over again.
Nate still slept beside her and she watched his chest rise and fall on each breath. She was amazed at how natural it felt to be with him, especially considering how little they actually knew about one another. She’d heard the girls at work talk and giggle over their occasional one-night stands—guys they never expected, or in some cases even wanted, to see again—but she’d never believed she’d indulge in something quite so illicit herself. She felt as if the past few days had been a vacation, not just from work and responsibility, but from herself—her own fears and anxieties. On Friday she hadn’t even given a care to the fact she had probably still been expected at the office, nor that over the course of the whole weekend she hadn’t so much as told anyone where she was, nor checked her cell phone for messages.
It wasn’t as if they cared, anyway, a little voice said from deep down inside. Her father didn’t believe she had a valid contribution to make to the company, her best friend had turned on her and her brother? Well, he didn’t even know her, nor she him. So what difference would it make if she walked away from all of them for good?
A whole lot of difference, she realized. She’d been angry on Thursday night. Really angry. And she’d acted completely out of character. Deep down she knew her family, including Anna, loved her and had to be worried about her having been out of touch for so long.
This person in the bed with a stranger, that wasn’t her. Sure, it had been a great time, but all good things had to come to an end sometime, didn’t they? Nothing this good ever lasted for long.
A wave of guilt for her behavior swamped her, driving her from the bed and into the bathroom where she gave in to the sudden well of tears in her eyes. She’d behaved irrationally. Stupidly. She had no idea of who she was really with. Everything that had anchored her these past twenty-six years lay on the other side of town—with her family, in her home. So what if her father had signed the property over to Judd? Her brother wasn’t about to summarily eject her from the only home she’d ever known, surely. Judd was as much a victim of her father’s shenanigans as she. So was Anna, who was far too grateful for all that Charles had done for her and her mother to ever tell him no.
And as for her father … It would be difficult for her to forgive or forget his words on Thursday night. But she couldn’t forget twenty-six years of him sheltering and protecting her, either. For better or for worse, he was still her father. They’d just have to find a way to reach an accord. She was willing to take the first step, and come back home.
Nicole dashed her face with water and dried it before quietly letting herself out of the master bathroom and padding quietly across the bedroom floor. As she closed the door behind her she let go the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She gave herself a mental shake. For goodness sake, she was an adult. Her decisions were her own, her choices were her own. The weekend had been great, just what she’d needed, there was no need to sneak around like a thief in the night.
She squared her shoulders and made her way to the laundry room where she’d hand washed and hung her underwear to dry during the course of the weekend. Her suit was on a hanger and had been brushed and steamed to get the creases out after being summarily left on the living room floor for several hours after Thursday night. She slid into her underwear and put on her suit. It felt strange to be dressed so formally after a weekend where clothing had been minimal.
She picked up her bag from in the living room and brushed out her hair before heading back to the bedroom to retrieve her shoes. She’d have to call a cab to get herself into work, she thought as she twisted her hair up into a knot and secured it with a clip she’d found in the bottom of her bag.
Nate was awake when she pushed open the door.
“Going somewhere?” he asked, his eyes unreadable as he watched her slide her feet into her shoes.
“Yeah, time to get back to reality.” She sighed. “This weekend has been great. Better than great, thanks.”
“That’s it?”
“What—” she laughed nervously “—you want more?”
“I always want more, especially of what we’ve had.”
“I never said I didn’t want to see you again.”
“But you implied it.”
Nicole shot him a nervous glance. Was he going to get all weird on her now?
“Look, I need to get home and then head into work.”
“No.”