“I knew it was bad,” James said in a soft tone. “And I know you’ve only scraped the surface for me. But even so, it sounds awful. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I let myself get too caught up in it. When I finally came up for air, I let my fear, pride and doubt cloud my judgment.”
“You weren’t the only one too proud to reach out and try to communicate. It’s not like I don’t know your number by heart,” he pointed out.
El grinned wryly. “It was I, as I recall, who promised to call.”
“Did you want to?” James’ warm blue gaze sparkled like a crystal as they searched each other’s eyes. El felt lost in him, could sense that strange phenomenon of falling into him. This time, unlike the others, she trusted him implicitly—to catch her and hold her safe—and let herself go.
“Yes. I wanted to. Badly. But at the same time I couldn’t bring myself to.”
Time seemed suspended. El had never felt this with anyone else. The outside world, all the problems and issues faded back to white noise in the background. The Cezanne, her mission with Rob, all the pain and awkward emotions that had built up between her and James—it all melted away into nothing.
They turned simultaneously to face each other, their knees bumping. Heat seared through her body. She could feel the warmth of his skin, even through the thin material of his tracksuit pants.
“We’re both proud, stubborn people, really, aren’t we?” he mused.
El chuckled. “At least we’re not as different as we first thought. A thief and a spy—you’d think we’d be oil and water.”
“Doesn’t matter what we are,” James insisted, his voice thick with need. His eyes burned so hotly she felt amazed her skin didn’t scorch. Heart hammering, her throat dry with desire, El tilted her head toward him, lifting her lips, needing to feel the hot press of his body upon hers.
“We were fools,” he murmured.
El lifted her hand, threaded her fingers through the short strands of his hair. Cupping the back of his skull, she helped guide his lips to hers. She exerted almost no pressure—he’d seemed to have the same thought as she.
They joined their mouths together, and heat pulsed through her body. His lips were soft, even more so than she recalled in her dreams. El moaned as her nipples peaked, hungry for his touch. Shifting her thigh restlessly, she could feel moisture slicking across her pussy lips. El pushed her feet to the floor, keeping their mouths fused together as she bent over almost double. She turned, straddled James’ thighs and sat in his lap. Heat radiated from his thick shaft.
Groaning, she tilted her hips, pressing her apex hungrily into his erection. They moved their hands over each other’s body. Tingles of pleasure arced over her skin where he touched her. Focused on stripping him, she didn’t even notice as he unbuttoned and removed her shirt.
“Do you know how much I’ve missed this? How much I’ve longed for you?” she murmured as she dropped his T-shirt to the floor. She sighed at the smooth, muscled expanse of his chest, finally bared once again to her ravenous gaze.
Dipping her head down, she began to lick a slow, hot trail along his skin. The deep rumble of need—part groan, part gasp—sounded like it had been torn from his soul. It only spurred more hunger through her blood. El tilted her head back, so she could continue to touch him, taste him and watch him simultaneously.
His eyes flared with heat, a fiery passion she knew could prove beyond addictive. Matching him pace for pace, she let all her hunger reflect back to him in her gaze, in every caress of her fingers.
Heat prickled along her skin and she knew her pale complexion would be flushed pink. James stroked her hair, then wrapped a few of the straight tendrils around his fingers, tugging her gently closer.
“I missed you too,” he admitted. “Missed this. I craved you. Dreamt of you. I’m not ever letting you go again.”
She smirked, not just pleased, but thrilled at the possessive tone to his voice. Opening her mouth, she was about to repeat his words back at him, but he clasped his hands over her arms and dragged her higher. She arched her back and he stole her breath away. James closed his lips ferociously around one lace-clad nipple.
He sucked on her and all thought, all reason fled. El let herself give up control. She let her head fall gracefully back, her ponytail swishing across her bare skin, further sensitizing her and heightening her arousal.
The world receded—only James and her desperate need for him existed.
Chapter Three
Part of James’ brain couldn’t wrap itself around the knowledge that El was here, in his lap, on his couch, with him again, at last. If he couldn’t feel her weight on his thighs, smell that faint scent of jasmine from her perfume and hear those throaty, decadent sounds she made when aroused, he’d have been tempted to believe he was having another one of
those
dreams.
But she was here. With him.
Finally
.
It took a minute for him to follow his fingers to his brain’s direction, to unsnap her bra and let it fall away. Her breasts were a perfect handful, pert and soft to the touch. He stroked the pad of each thumb over her nipples, arousing them to hard little peaks.
El’s eyes were enormous, the pale blue irises just a thin ring around the large black pupils. Her delicate, pale skin was stained with the rush of blood beneath it—but he adored her like this, lost to all reason, burning up for him and because of his actions. Her deep red hair had been one of the first things he’d noticed about her, the silky tendrils that looked luscious spread out on his pillow.
Gently he pulled the elastic from her hair, sighing happily as the burgundy locks cascaded past her shoulders and down her back in a straight curtain. He’d always been a sucker for a redhead. El was different, though—special. He planned to prove that to her here and now. He couldn’t make it to the bed, comfort and tradition be damned.
He knew that something serious had brought her to his door. Robert wouldn’t have joined her had this been a personal call. James knew their time would run out all too soon, and he wanted to indulge in every second granted to him.
Cupping one perfect breast in the palm of his hand, he paused a moment to enjoy the full, heavy weight. He lifted the mound, then bent down and suckled on the nipple. El cried out, an inarticulate sound filled with need and pleasure. He could never forget that sound, or mistake it for anything else. Her breaths came in short, sharp pants, the sexual flush moving down her neck and starting to cover her chest. The cadence of her moans rose—and he knew she was close.
Feeling wicked, wanting to sate her, but also prove to her just how much they needed each other, he quickly opened her pants and loosened the waistband. Suckling harder on her breast, he drew on the nipple, knowing from her previous confessions that it sent pleasure shooting downward, through her belly right to her clit, igniting her pussy.
He mumbled against her skin, the vibration adding to the sensations he built within her. James watched her, drank in every move, every line of that beautiful face, the graceful sweep of her neck, the arch of her back. She mesmerized him, and for the first time since his youth, James felt the urge to sketch. He had only a little talent, but something about El resonated deeply within him and he wanted to capture that. Create it over and over.
El groaned as he slid his fingers inside her lacy knickers. Even with only a few of his brain cells working, his digits knew precisely what to do. Fingers fluted, he stroked into her warm flesh, parting her labia and sliding deeper. James left one finger behind to caress her clit, but then he probed the others farther, finding her opening wet, hot and sensitive enough that he could tell from her tone she was perched on the edge of climax.
“Come for me, beautiful,” he said softly around her breast. “Come only for me, show me that glorious moment you achieve ecstasy.”
El grasped his shoulder, her hand slipping for a moment as she appeared overwhelmed with pleasure. She found purchase and cracked her eyes open. Their gazes met and he held her, wanting them to share her first peak. With shuddering breaths, she rocked her hips forward, riding his hand. James hissed in pleasure, his cock straining against his pants, desperately craving his own release.
Forcing himself to not just lose control, pull himself free and plunge into her, he struggled and watched her like a man possessed. She thrust her pussy over him and he pumped his fingers harder, faster, deeper.
“James,” she panted. Her words were thready, coherence clearly beyond her. “More. Please. Now. Fuck.”
Lifting her breast higher, he then lightly grazed his teeth over the sensitive tip, blowing on the wet nipple before he poked his tongue out and laved at her. He worked his hand faster in her pants, and El was thrusting onto him at a strong pace, evidently on the brink.
Six months could be a lifetime, he had learned, but some things never changed. Watching El fall apart, drinking in every delightful, luscious moment as she came hard and strong was better than anything he’d ever known. Her body lifted, her breast falling from his mouth. Her head fell back, her lips parted and she lifted her eyes to the ceiling. With her back arched, she reached her free hand out, and James could feel the ripples of her pussy sucking down, milking his fingers as her orgasm washed over her.
It took a minute for the rest of El to catch up.
She screamed, loudly enough that he worried for a second that the neighbors would call the police.
“Fuck yes,” James murmured, enchanted. “That’s it, beautiful, come for me. Oh, you’re gorgeous.”
El clutched at him and after a minute she sank against him, her breasts pressed to his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. She panted and despite the aching fire of desperate need in his crotch, he felt deeply satisfied, smug in a masculine way that was not arrogance, merely fact.
He pressed a kiss to the tender place beneath her ear and felt the soft, warm glow of love in his heart. He’d rather cut his tongue out than speak of it, especially after the rollercoaster they’d both been on, but he knew in his soul there was no other woman alive for him. Only El. This time, he swore she wouldn’t get away.
It had been six long, unbearable months since she’d felt James’ touch. There’d been no one since him or for quite a while before him, either, but El never would have guessed that a bit of a suck on her breast and a few strokes of his fingers would have her coming harder than she could recall experiencing before.
Sure, the man had magic fingers—in a number of respects—but really, she couldn’t believe it had only needed a bit of a lick and tickle.
“You didn’t make it to the party,” she murmured as she lifted her head from his shoulder. Swiping her hair from her eyes, she smiled at her lover.
“We’re only beginning,” he replied. His eyes shone and she could hear the happiness in his tone, that faintly smug, male satisfaction she often heard from him when he felt pleased with himself.
Grinning, she tilted her head and softly kissed him. They explored tenderly with their lips. Re-learning each other with a slow, easy pace. Opening her mouth she then flicked her tongue out, tangled it with his and enjoyed the stirring she felt in her body. The knot of tension she’d held in her belly had disintegrated upon her climax, but flames once again licked at her as the ever-present chemistry between them ignited her senses once again.
James stroked her inner walls with his fingers and her body jolted—the pleasure ratcheting up once again. El lifted her hips, one hand lowering to gently remove him from her pussy.
“Easy, tiger,” she panted, her need already spiraling out of control again. “You’ve taken the edge off—six months is quite a celibacy stretch—but this time I want to come with you, not by myself.”
She met his gaze, faintly chagrined that she’d admitted to him that she’d not been touched since the last time they’d seen one another. El was both pleased, and embarrassed, that it was out there now. James’ eyes were soft—she got the feeling he was happy with her comment.
“I haven’t wanted anyone else either. You didn’t need to tell me, but thank you.”
Grinning wickedly now, she used her thighs to push his legs apart. Reaching a foot carefully down to the floor, she got her balance, opened his legs and knelt between them. With a palm to each of his hips she scooted him forward so he sat on the edge of the couch. Mimicking his earlier motion, she dipped her hands beneath the elastic waistband of his pants and pushed the thin material down so his thick, long length sprang free.
Slick with juices, stiff as a board and flushed a dark color, James’ erection was a welcome sight.
“Mmm,” she murmured. She licked her lips, recalling vividly the numerous times she’d sucked him off with great enthusiasm. She loved to drink him down. It gave the added side-benefit of taking the edge off for him before he pounded into her, fucking her blind, deaf and absolutely dumb.
She was beyond eager for an encore. It had been forever.
Wrapping her fingers around his base, she spent a moment stroking the crinkly hairs protecting him.
“When you opened the door and I saw your little trail, I wanted to do this,” she confessed, her voice incredibly thick and husky. Deciding they could talk later, she moved closer, tilted her head and licked from his navel, down his flat tummy, and followed the enticing path of faint, short hairs.
James shuddered and she recalled in a blinding flash that he was particularly sensitive on the skin beneath his belly.
El murmured, but the words all jumbled together, her brain frying as instinct took over. A hot flush of need washed over her as she was delighted by his words. Lightly, with infinite care and tenderness, she scraped her teeth over his skin. His body twitched and she knew the reaction was part ticklish, part sexual ecstasy. She repeated the caress, licking the spot for good measure.
This elicited a groan of approval. James canted his hips up, his cock rigid and hot with need. The hand that held him grew slick with his juices. El moved lower, but took her time to nibble and thoroughly enjoy every inch.