Authors: Vivienne Harris-Scott
I
licked my lips, feeling naked under his stare. I exhaled, and said mildly
irritated,
“
I
don
’
t
owe you anything! Actually, I want you to leave!
”
“
Really?
”
he asked, walking the few steps that
separated us.
”
Are
you sure?
”
he continued in a low seductive voice, when we were only mere inches apart and
I could smell his heady scent, a concoction made of leather, liquorice, vanilla
and him.
We
stared at each other until I couldn
’
t bear his heated look anymore, and turned
my head, looking upwards, closing my eyes imploring God for strength,
whispering in a shaky voice,
“
Yes,
Juli
…
-
”
He
interrupted me by kissing and then biting the crook of my neck that I had left
exposed while capitulating. The contact sent an electric jolt through my body.
I
gasped.
“
You smell so good
…
I
’
ve missed you
…
God, I
’
ve missed you
…”
He whispered hoarsely against my skin,
feathering it with a trail of kisses that made my heart pound so hard in my
chest, I felt myself becoming dizzy.
I
was losing control. I could smell the whiskey on his breath as his voice
wrapped itself around me and made my flesh tingle; moisture gathered in places
that only awoke when I lay at night thinking of him.
He
continued his slow torture by nibbling my earlobe; then his tongue stroked the
side of my neck as he mumbled,
“
Hmm,
You taste so good
…“
and kept suckling on the skin. I thought I was going to pass out from the
internal shockwaves the contact was creating. He gave me a hungry look, and I
could see, his eyes were a darker shade of blue, almost navy black. When he bit
my bottom lip first, and finally kissed my lips, lazily taking my mouth and
getting reacquainted with it, I knew I was lost.
Soon,
his hands were into my hair pinning me against the door; his kiss becoming more
demanding, more aggressive and growing deeper, until I finally had a whimpering
moan into his mouth.
He
kissed me like a starving man.
“
Chocolate and oranges,
”
he
groaned when our kiss broke, catching his breath and looking at me through his
hooded gaze. That kiss had affected him as much as me.
I
felt my knees buckle, and pushed him off with the last bit of will I had. He
was smiling at me, I was furious against myself. I walked through the room
towards the bathroom. That
’
s
when he realized my suitcases were packed, and set right across the bed, as if
they had been ready to be carted out.
He
turned and asked, puzzled,
“
Were
you leaving?
”
“
I was,
”
I replied from the bathroom.
He
walked in, looking at me in silence. Our eyes met and battled across the
mirror, and he finally said in a hard voice:
“
You are lying to yourself about what is
going on between us.
”
I tossed my hair, held it up in a ponytail, and said in a grounded voice,
“
Julian, there is nothing between us.
”
still watching him, while setting the
hair clip on.
He
approached me from the back and boxed me in. Both his hands holding the sink on
my sides, still looking at me in the mirror, his body pressed against mine, he
said while kissing the back of my neck,
“
Tell me Vi
…
Tell me
…
you don
’
t feel anything
…
when
…
I do this.... or that
…”
his voice trailed between kisses and
light bites to the back of my neck and my earlobe, while one of his hand was
now unbuttoning my blouse and massaging my breast through the silk camisole.
He
was too close. His cologne had taken over my olfactory senses. His husky voice
had me in a hypnotic trance. I could feel his hardness on my back. I could feel
my body betraying me and responding to his touch, my head tilting back, seeking
his touch. I shut my eyes and bit my lower lip trying to stifle the moan that
was coming, but he heard it.
He
knew he caused my entire body to catch on fire. I was certain he could feel my
temperature rise.
“
Hmm
…
so good
…”
he murmured licking the crook of my neck.
I
looked at our reflection in the mirror, and noticed my eyes were blinking, my
nipples were clearly hard, poking against the silky material, my breathing was
ragged and my hands were clutching the edge of the sink counter so hard, they
hurt. He grinned, stopped his ministrations, and whispered in my ear
“
Baby, look at me
…”
his eyes, still, examining my face.
I
closed my eyes, inhaled deeply, and re-opened them, realizing I had been caught
up in the moment.
Burning
up and aching for him.
Again.
I
blushed when our eyes crossed in the mirror. I swirled around, still imprisoned
in his arms, looking at him with glassy eyes and still hazy from his touch, I
tried to push him away, my hand hitting his hard chest. Placing his left hand
on mine, he kissed my wrist and held my arm down. Touching my forehead with
his, and looking at me intensely, he added cockily,
“
The way I see it, you
’
re not half as sure as you say you are.
Your body is pretty clear about its wants
…”
Before
I could give a worded response, his lips took mine passionately, his hands
cupping my face. His kiss wasn't tentative; it was sure, endearing, and
consuming. I could feel his need matching mine. I tilted my head to the side to
give him better access and I heard him give a murmur of approval. The kiss went
on and on as if we couldn't get enough... I whimpered and opened my mouth wider
and drew his tongue further with fierceness as I felt my resolve crumble.
I
heard him rumble. One of my hands cradled the back of his head, gripping the
hair for support while the other pushed away his jacket
’
s lapels, as he continued to display his
hunger for me by deepening the kiss.
Demanding,
his tongue still swirling with mine, he lifted me, cupping my buttocks and
sitting me on the sink counter. My legs found themselves wrapped around his
waist while he slid one of his hands into my blouse and started to tweak my
nipple while the other was rubbing my covered core. I was writhing against it
as he applied pressure; my back, now, against the mirror, my hands were
clinging to his shirt, pulling it out of his pants, and I no longer cared about
anything but him being inside of me. I was on the brink of losing myself.
Coming
up for air, he growled into my neck and with a warm shaky breath said,
“
You are mine.
”
That
sentence alone brought me back to my senses.
With
my chest heaving, trying to regain composure, I awkwardly disengaged myself
from between his arms, buttoning my blouse with trembling fingers and averting
his surprised gaze, headed into the room on unsteady legs.
When
I turned around to retrieve my phone, keys and purse from the bedside table, I
watched him readjust himself, as he picked up his jacket that had somehow
landed on the bathroom floor.
My
breathing almost under control, I finally looked up at him and said with a
shaky voice,
”
You
’
re obnoxious, and cocky
…
and infuriating, and arrogant to the point
of painfulness
…”
His
eyes became wide, and his smile wider, as I continued,
“…
And for some unknown reason, I find these
traits charming, even irresistible when you look at me or touch me
…
and yes, I do admit there is an
incomprehensible attraction
…
this pull or whatever
…
between us
…
but Julian?
”
He
arched his brows, giving me a questioning look.
“
There can never be a
‘
us
’
.
”
I adamantly concluded, clasping my bag
shut to show him the subject was indeed closed.
He
sat down in one of the large armchair, still smiling and relaxed, said,
“
Well, do you mind telling me why? I
’
ve flown across the globe to see you and
get answers, and once again, you
’
re
at the door
…
not
this time, beautiful. I
’
m
not letting you out of my sight until I know
…”
I
inhaled deeply and abruptly asked,
”
Are you still in touch with Ethan?
”
boring my eyes firmly into his. This was
the 64,000$ question, but Julian looked confused as if I had asked him the
question in a language unknown to him.
“
Ethan?
”
he mumbled,
“
Ethan who?
”
he asked tilting his head, eyebrows
arched, until realization swept across his face and he said with a hollow
voice,
“
Ethan
McGregor?
”
“
Yes,
”
I replied in a low voice, grabbing
my first suitcase to take it to the door.
He
got up, helping me with the second suitcase, almost on autopilot, while saying,
“
Why
are you interested in Ethan? How do you even know I know him
…”
he asked, frowning, his voice rising.
As
I was perusing the flat screen in front of me, and ordering a bellboy with the
remote control, I looked up and said in an emotionless voice,
“
Because I
’
m Victoryn McGregor.
”
Julian
stumbled back, as if he had been physically slapped. His eyes never leaving me,
his jaws clenched. He looked like he would hold his chest any minute.