Read A Sip of You (The Epicurean Series) Online

Authors: Sorcha Grace

Tags: #“Absolutely delectable.”—J. Kenner, #New York Times Bestselling Author “A satisfying, #sensual read not to be missed.”—Raine Miller, #New York Times Bestselling Author “An intriguing start to a saucy new trilogy.”—Roni Loren, #National Bestselling Author “Yummy! Imagine Christian Grey with warm chocolate and you have William Lambourne.”—Aleatha Romig, #New York Times Bestselling Author

A Sip of You (The Epicurean Series) (25 page)

He stilled inside me until the waves finally quieted, until I could focus. I looked into his face. His body fully covered mine and his forearms were flat on the bed on either side of my head, caging me as his hard cock waited inside me. Our eyes locked for a moment, then he bent and we kissed deeply, our tongues tangling and mating as he began the slow, steady rhythm of claiming me. Deeper and deeper he drove into me, my hips arching to meet his movements as I yielded to him and let him in to my very center. Our mouths stayed connected as our bodies moved in slow, exquisite harmony. My whole being flooded with an ecstasy I’d never felt before and I became lost in the sensation of us becoming one.

I could have kept kissing him for hours, could have stayed in our glorious embrace for days, but William pulled his mouth away and lifted up on his arms. He looked at me so intently that I closed my eyes and tilted my chin up, signaling I wanted his mouth back. “Catherine, look at me,” he said softly.

I opened my eyes and my gaze met his again. I smiled, and felt him twitch and pulse inside me. “I love you,” he whispered, and then he thrust again and lowered his head, groaning against my neck as he came.

***

We lay entwined together on the bed for a long time. My heart was bursting and my head spinning. Had I heard him correctly? He loved me. William Maddox Lambourne III loved me. And he had beaten me to it. He’d told me first. I was elated and could feel the choke of tears in my throat. I couldn’t speak.

Finally, he rose on his elbows and looked into my eyes. I gave him what I hoped was a not-too-shaky smile. “Did you hear me?” he said. “That might not have been the best timing—”

“You said you loved me,” I whispered.

“You don’t have to say it back. I’ve been wanting to tell you since before we went to Napa. I couldn’t keep from saying it any longer. I love you, Catherine.” His beautiful eyes framed with all those thick dark lashes weren’t stormy now. They were a warm silver grey, shining with what I hoped was anticipation and excitement. And the kind of love that might last a lifetime.

I smiled. “William.” I wrapped my arms around his neck. “I’ve been wanting to tell you since before Napa too, and now I’m afraid you’ll think I’m just saying it because you did.”

“What have you been wanting to say?”

I smiled, tears of joy coming unbidden now. Sometimes he was like a mischievous boy, teasing me until he got his way. I tilted my head back and looked at him. “I love you, William Maddox Lambourne,” I said. “I love you, I love you, I love you. God, I love you!”

He laughed heartily and then kissed me tenderly but deeply. The kiss was so sweet I had to take a deep breath to keep from tipping into full-blown weeping.

We lay in each others’ arms for what seemed like hours, kissing and repeating the words we’d both longed to hear and speak. Then we made love again and again. I would never get enough of William.

***

It was early evening when my stomach rumbled loud enough for William to hear, prompting us to take a break for some dinner. When I finally rolled out of his arms and rose from the bed, I instantly missed his warmth and his lips. Dinner sounded great, but we did have some other things to tend to. “We still need to talk, and we should probably do it now.”

“Alright. Let’s get cleaned up first.”

A few minutes later, we met back in the living room. He wore a light blue T-shirt and a pair of navy drawstring pajama pants slung low on his hips. I was clad in the dress shirt he’d discarded earlier. As soon as I entered the living room, he hissed in a breath. “You might want to talk fast,” he said. “You’re fucking hot when you wear my shirts.”

The look in his eyes was definitely motivation to begin—and end—the discussion. I glanced at the chair where I’d dropped the envelope earlier. It was still there. Waiting. “First, I want to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry for last night. You asked me about Jeremy, and I shouldn’t have been so evasive. It wasn’t fair and I should be as open with you as I want you to be with me. From now on, I promise I will be. My life is an open book. Anything you want to know, I’ll tell you.”

William stared at me, looking a bit wary. I’m sure he was wondering what I expected in return, and I rushed to reassure him. “I don’t need anything in return from you. Yes, I want you to feel like you can tell me things, but I understand if you can’t right now. I accept you no matter what. I’m not going to fight with you about that anymore. I trust you. I trust you unconditionally. I love you, William.”

He closed the distance between us and took my hands. “I love you too, Catherine. And I trust you. But you have to understand, sometimes I keep information from you for your own safety.”

“I know that’s your justification,” I said, “and if you don’t want to tell me, then I’ll deal, but the stalking has to stop. From now on, if you want to know something, just ask. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. No secrets. The photos were too much. You made your point.”

William’s eyes narrowed. “What photos?”

I slowly reached down and picked up the envelope. Did he really not know? I didn’t think he was playing a game with me. He wasn’t like that. My hand was trembling now, and I held the envelope out to him. He took it, opened it, and pulled the photos out. He glanced at them, turned the envelope over to look at the address, and then slowly looked up at me.

His eyes were an icy blue now, cold and dangerous. “Where did you get these?”

“They came in the mail,” I whispered. “I thought they were from you.”

“No. I’ve never seen these before. God, I wouldn’t do something like this to you. Send something like this.” He flipped the envelope around again. “Was there a note, any sort of correspondence?”

I shook my head.

William dropped the photos and the envelope on the chair and took my hands again. He looked at me so intensely it scared me. “Think, Catherine. Are you certain? This was all that was in the envelope?”

I nodded, starting to feel very uneasy. What the hell was going on? “I just opened it today on the L. I don’t even know when it came. It was in my mail stack. I thought…” I shook my head. I would be apologizing to William forever at this rate. “I know you’re having me followed. I want you to call off your spies. It’s creepy to see pictures of myself like this.”

William stood still for the space of three heartbeats then let go of my hands and raked his fingers through his hair. He walked slowly to the windows overlooking the city and Lake Michigan. He didn’t speak for a long time, and just as I was about to say something,
anything
, he said, “First of all, I understand why you think I had these taken. You saw the file I had on Jenny Hill, and I know doing elaborate investigations on women I dated or might have dated was fucked up on some levels.” He spoke without looking at me, his hard eyes on the city’s skyscrapers. “But I tried to explain to you that that approach has been necessary for my protection. I’ve been a target ever since my family died, and that’s the only way I knew how to protect myself and the women I’ve dated from those who might seek to”—he paused and took a deep breath—“exploit my weaknesses.”

It was difficult for me to imagine he had any weaknesses, though he must have thought he did. He thought he was at risk enough to justify spying on me. “Listen, I understand someone in your position has to be careful,” I interrupted, “but that doesn’t mean—”

“No, you don’t understand.” He rounded on me, folding his arms across his broad chest as he stood framed by the Chicago skyline. “That’s the problem. Believe me when I say—again—I have never,
never
had a dossier on you. I had you under surveillance to keep you safe. But I only know what you’ve told me about yourself. I’m flying blind with you, and it scares me. Loving you scares the hell out of me because it makes me vulnerable.”

I’d never seen him like this, so emotional. He seemed to be fighting to keep his feelings in check. I wanted to reassure him. “William, loving me doesn’t make you vulnerable.”

“Oh, yes, it does, and I question my decision not to make a dossier on you every day. Not because I don’t trust you, but because I need to keep you safe, Catherine. The more I know about you, the more effectively I can do that. I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you because of me.” He stalked to the chair and lifted the photos again. “These are the evidence that you’re not safe. These aren’t messages to you from me. They’re messages to me about you. He’s showing me he can get to you.”

I shook my head. “Wait.
Who
can get to me?”

“I didn’t have these photos taken.”

A chill ran up my arms and across my back. I suddenly felt ice cold. “If you didn’t have them taken, then who did?” My voice sounded hollow and far away, and much calmer than I felt.

William was beside me in a moment. He gathered me in his arms, warming me with his body and maneuvering me to the couch. He sat beside me and looked me in the eye. “There are things I haven’t told you. I didn’t want to scare you, didn’t want to alarm you. Truthfully, I didn’t want to scare you away from me. But it’s too late for that now. You need to know that you could be in danger.”

I wasn’t processing what he was saying. Danger? How could I be in any sort of danger? My gaze darted to the photos again. Suddenly, I saw them in a new light. I was unprotected, unaware, an easy target. But from whom?

“Someone is making threats,” William went on.

Somewhere in the distance I heard a familiar ringtone. My cell. I ignored it and focused on William.

“The threats are why I wanted you in Napa with me. I wanted you out of Chicago and under my protection. It was the only way I knew how to keep you safe once I thought you might become a target.”

The ringing stopped, and I assumed the call had gone to voicemail.

“So this started before we even left Chicago? You’ve known about it for how long then?”

“For a few weeks.” He looked sheepish and I watched him steel his shoulders and lift his chin. He was obviously struggling with telling me all of this, but he seemed determined to nonetheless.

“Is this connected to the Wyatt thing that’s going on, with the wreckage?” I asked, my voice dead and flat as the words tumbled out of my mouth.

“I think it’s all connected. We just haven’t been able to figure out how. Yet. George is on it now, as are other members of my security team. We’re thinking about notifying the FBI, but I’ve held off. Until now.”

The FBI? This was much more serious than I realized. The steep chill on my spine deepened.

“I’ve received an envelope like this too,” he said. “Several, in fact. They contained newspaper clippings about Jace’s accident, the two of us at the Art Institute, a mention of you in conjunction with the opening of Willowgrass. The first one arrived while we were broken up and you were sick. I told you I was going out of my mind with worry then and I was. Because you were sick, but also because I was so afraid that something was going to happen to you. And you wouldn’t see me or talk to me.”

I looked at him and my heart shattered. I’d had no idea. I couldn’t imagine what kind of hell I had unwittingly put William through then.

“And I’ve received photos taken of me” He gestured to envelope I’d brought. “I didn’t have these pictures taken. Whoever is watching me is also watching you.”

My cell began to ring again, and I ignored it. “So I’m in danger? There’s some creep out there who might hurt me to get to you?”

But he wasn’t looking at me anymore. He was staring at my bag on the couch behind us. “You’d better answer that.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Your phone. It’s been ringing non-stop.”

Concerned now, I grabbed my bag and rifled through it until I found my phone. I saw on the screen immediately that the caller was Minerva. My heart clenched in my chest. Why would Minerva call me? I felt William take my hand and realized I was shaking. But he was beside me. He was giving me the strength and support of his love.

“H-hello?”

“Catherine? Thank God. Where are you?” Her voice was high and shrill and I felt the first stirrings of panic creep in.

“I’m at William’s. What’s wrong, Minerva?”

“It’s your apartment. Someone broke in.”

“W-what?”

William’s hand clenched over mine. He must have heard Minerva’s voice carry through the phone.

“The police are here, dear. You had better come home right away. They want to talk to you.”

My entire body shook now, and I was so cold my teeth were chattering. “O-okay. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” I glanced at William. His face reflected dread but also determination. I knew without a doubt he would do anything to keep me safe.

“Do hurry, dear,” Minerva said. “And, Catherine, there’s one other thing.”

My hand clenched painfully around William’s.

“We can’t find Laird.”

I ended the call with Minerva and looked up at William. I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing now, and he pulled me into his arms as I sobbed. I was so scared and overwhelmed by how things were quickly spiraling out of control. And Laird. Laird! I looked down at my watch and it was nearly six. It was dark out. Laird wore a reflective collar with ID tags, but the nighttime Chicago streets in winter were no place for my dog. I needed to start looking for him. I pulled back from William’s embrace and wiped my sleeve across my runny nose. “Listen, can you have George drive me home? I need to talk to the police, then I need to start looking for Laird. The sooner I can start walking through the neighborhood, the sooner I can find him. My cell number is on his tag, so if someone finds him first, maybe they’ll call me—”

“Catherine.” William looked down at me. “I’ll take you to your condo so you can talk to the police. And I’ll help you look for Laird. But you can’t stay there.”

“What do you mean I can’t stay there?” I looked up him and he wore a stern expression. “Where else am I supposed to go? That’s my home! I’m not going to let some stupid break-in scare me off. Minerva didn’t even say if anything is missing.”

“Catherine,” William said again, this time in that dark and dominating tone that meant he was determined to have his way no matter what. “I love you and there is no way in hell I am letting the woman I love spend the night in what is currently a crime scene. No way, no how. We’ll go over there and talk to the police. Then you can pack a bag to bring back here. Then we’ll look for Laird. No arguing.”

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