Authors: Melissa Jolley
He leaned his head back, and a soft moan escaped his lips. Melody enjoyed making him moan, just as she enjoyed making him smile. She encircled his shaft with her hand, stroking him long and slow. He raised his head, looked her in the eye and kissed her hard; his mouth melded with hers his tongue relentless in its exploration. She liked the way he made her feel wanted, even if it was only for this one encounter. She didn’t care; she knew she wanted him, and to hell with what tomorrow might bring. She continued her strokes, varying her speed, her grasp. His hands were at her face, then down her body, over her chest; he lowered his head, encircling the hard nipple of one of her substantial breasts with his mouth, he teased with his tongue and teeth, and now it was her turn to moan. He moved to the other, repeating the pleasure. Each nipple sent a direct line of longing down her body to the tingling warmth between her thighs.
Wrapping his arm around her waist, he moved determinedly forward, as she staggered backward. His free hand moved to the wall behind her, and she felt fresh warm jets of water pulsating all over her back. He turned her around and she placed both her hands on the wall. The sharp jets of water were aimed perfectly at her breasts and enticed her nipples to pleasure bordering on pain. Alec lowered himself in front of her, his darting tongue teasing her, arousing her further. She was the soft-centered chocolate and he was going to coax every morsel of her delicious liquid center before devouring the rest of her.
The wave of intense pleasure built, but she swiftly moved away. She didn’t want to come yet; she had to have him inside her.
She placed a finger under his chin, and he stood, understanding the unspoken command. The jets were now at his back and she lowered herself, taking the long hard shaft into her mouth, her hands at the base, teasing him with her fingers and tongue. She moaned, and a shudder broke through his body.
Making him moan and shudder was arousing her even more; she had to have him now.
Sensing they were both near the breaking point, Melody didn’t have time to tell Alec what she wanted before he was lifting her up as easily as a ragdoll.
Wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, she began to lave his neck with her tongue, enjoying the taste of the fresh warm water mixed with his salty skin.
Lifting her a bit higher before easing her slowly onto his pulsating cock, his hands gripped the pinnacle of her thighs as her breath caught and then released in satisfaction as he entered her. She relished the multiple water flows caressing her skin, thousands of tiny kisses, and the wetness allowing their bodies to glide easily against one another. He moved, placing her back against the wall, and the thrusts became deeper, and even more gratifying, her back sliding against the cool tiles.
The moment of release neared, but she didn’t want to come yet; it felt too good having him inside her, filling her so completely. She tightened her internal muscles as he slid out and an exquisite agony of loss accosted her body. Unable to hold back any longer, she felt the wave descend again, ready to engulf her, gripping his strong shoulders, crying out, and quivering blissfully, over and over again as his hips continued to rock into hers at ever-increasing speed. Seconds later, Alec pulled her down hard in a final thrust, burying his face at the base of her neck as a rumble of contentment issued from his lips and his body convulsed under hers.
Melody had no description for the way she felt; it was beyond ecstasy. Alec lifted her gently off him and placed her back on her feet. She felt a bit weak and wasn’t sure whether her legs would actually work, but they held her up, which was all she could ask.
Melody was conflicted; she knew she wanted to do that again—and only with Alec—no man had ever made her feel like this...
whatever this is?
Yet, she had made him a promise that she would ask no more than this one, all too brief, encounter.
“Melody, I—”
Melody reached up, kissing his lips softly before he could finish his sentence. “No promises, no regrets.” She turned to stand back under the shower, hiding the tears that welled in her eyes.
Alec was glad Melody had made him stop talking, because he didn’t actually know what he was going to say beyond, “Melody, I.” He had returned to his room to use his own shower right after she’d kissed him, and now all he could think of under the pressure of the cold water was Melody dropping that towel.
God, she’s beautiful.
He was guessing she had once had an athletic build, but as she’d gotten older, she had rounded a little, in all the right places. She had full, firm breasts, a deep arc to her waist, and a smooth curve to her hips and rear. She reminded him of the glamorous and sexy Hollywood sirens of the Fifties.
He made the shower colder.
Less than ten minutes later he threw on a pair of khaki combat shorts and a plain black polo shirt, and he went back downstairs. Melody was sitting at the desk under the stairs dressed in his robe; it was way too big for her.
“Ready for some dinner?”
“Actually I’m famished, what’s on the menu?” She grinned at him.
“How about seafood pasta?” He hoped she’d be like most New Zealander’s he’d ever known and be a fan of seafood.
“Cream or tomato-based?” Her voice was almost accusatory.
“Cream?” He could do either, but he figured she was a girl who deserved to indulge herself, and rarely had the opportunity.
“Mushrooms?”
Slightly
less harsh this time.
“If you like, yes.” He pursed his lips to hide the twitching that was threatening to become a smile.
“Yeah, all right then. What about the clothes?” She was beaming again, and the glow that radiated from her was staggering, bringing to life a part of him he had considered dead and buried long ago.
“Grab what you want to be washed and dried, the laundry is down in the basement next to the cellar.”
She promptly got her shopping bags and clothes from the bathroom. They made their way down to the laundry, where he loaded up the machine and set it to work.
Alec took her hand and led her across the hall to a large basement kitchen. It seemed ridiculous but he was excited about this. Cooking for others was a joy he hadn’t indulged in for far too many years. The kitchen had all the gadgets any top chef could ask for, including well-stocked shelves.
“Can I help?” Melody sounded slightly worried he might say yes.
“No, I’ve got this. Take a seat.” All this smiling was starting to make his cheeks ache, but for the life of him, he couldn’t stop.
This had better be good, sunshine.
There was that damn annoying habit of wanting to impress her again.
Rather than sitting at the large, rustic table, she sat at the breakfast bar right behind him as he started grabbing ingredients.
He made his way to the wine fridge, pulled out a bottle without bothering to look at the label, and grabbed a couple of glasses from the shelf above. He placed them in front of Melody, and then continued with dinner.
He turned to see Melody reading the bottle, and smiling.
“Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc? You’re just trying to impress me now, aren’t you?”
Actually, I am.
“I thought you’d like the taste of home, and it also happens to be one of my favorites.”
“Mine too.”
“Good, then drink up. I’ve got another three bottles in the fridge and the rest of the case in the cellar, if you’re keen.” He knew he shouldn’t, but it had been so long since he’d shared anything, especially himself, with another person, he was remembering how much he missed just being with someone.
“I’ve got work, remember.”
His face dropped a little at the reminder she would be leaving again soon.
“Um, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but this is huge. Do you have anything else I could wear?” He couldn’t argue; the dressing gown swamped her. Even after rolling up the sleeves three times her hands remained mostly obscured.
“First floor, go to the end of the landing, it’s my room. I’m sure you’ll find something.” He knew his smile was not quite as bright as before.
Melody climbed down, seemingly oblivious to his mood change. He’d gotten good at hiding his true feelings over the years. He heard her head upstairs as he continued cooking.
***
Melody was in a hurry; she wanted to take in all the beauty the house had to offer, but spending time with Alec was her priority. Just being near him made her feel somehow better, like he was the missing piece of a puzzle she’d forgotten she was doing. A slight melancholy had appeared to settle over him when she’d mentioned working. Maybe he liked her company as much as she enjoyed his. She hoped, anyway.
The house was gorgeous, yet even that hadn’t prepared her for the sheer vastness of Alec’s bedroom.
Oh my God, I could fit my entire flat in this one room!
The ten-foot high ceilings, three full-height windows, and lack of furniture enhanced the feeling of space. The focal point of the room was a huge canopied, four-poster bed at the opposite end to the door. The wood of the bed had a deep reddish-brown stain, offset by sumptuous forest green hangings and bedspread. She was very tempted to climb in naked. He’d have to come look for her at some point—no, once was going to be her lot with the divine Alec Connolly.
As she looked around, wondering where he kept his clothes, her gaze roamed over a picture on the right bedside drawer. She walked to it, and picked up the heavy silver frame. The photo was old, very old—she guessed at Victorian or Edwardian. It wasn’t posed like the usual pictures from that time. The woman was sitting outside and her smile was genuine and quite radiant. Her hair was fair, and though most of it was up, a few ringlets had dropped, twisting down over her shoulders. She was very beautiful in a delicate way.
There is something so familiar about her, but she would have died before I was born.
As she returned the photograph to its home, a pang of longing squeezed at her heart. He obviously loved this woman very much to still have her photograph next to his bed after all this time. A big part of her knew she’d have to accept that he would never feel that way for her, no matter how she tried to seduce him. A friendly, protective affection was all she could possibly hope for right now. The cruel prick of tears threatened to overwhelm her, but her obstinacy froze their progression.
Two doors stood on either side of the bed. The nearest was a bathroom to rival the one downstairs, yet this one had a large bath as well, and a window like those in the bedroom except with shutters covering the lower half. To the left there was another door; she stepped in to find a dressing room, and her mouth gaped. “I have got to get me one of these!” She tilted and turned her head while surveying the space that was easily as big as her bedroom, before remembering why she was there.
A sliding door hid a rack full of shirts. The reminder of how Alec looked that morning increased her wish to return to him. A blue shirt, identical to his earlier one, caught her eye. She hung the robe on a hook behind the door before slipping the cool, soft cotton shirt over her shoulders. The top three buttons she left undone, creating a deep ‘V’ that threatened to expose her breasts if she moved too vigorously.
It was tempting to go commando too. Just because he resigned himself to live without love didn’t mean she would go out of her way to avoid sex with him—quite the opposite. Though the length of the shirt was covering the essentials, she thought the wooden stool could be quite uncomfortable, so she decided to find something for her bottom half. After opening a few drawers, she found one full of underwear, and decided on a pair of black, satin boxer shorts. They were a bit big, but she sat them low on her hips so the elastic waistband was taut. A smile lifted her mouth as she checked her efforts in the full-length mirror. Her hair had air-dried nicely, and she ran her fingers through, untangling a few stray knots. Undoing the bottom two buttons of the shirt as well, she then folded the sleeves to her elbows and decided she was set. She ran back down the stairs.
On her return she found him still at the stove, but near her wine glass sat some slices of bread with dips. He didn’t look up as she entered; he was concentrating on a pot on the stove. “That was quick. I expected you to search every nook and cranny of the house, which would have taken you a considerable amount of time.”
She sat back on the stool and took a large swig of wine. “Nah, I’m too hungry.”
Not just for the pasta; the view is pretty tasty too.
It was quite distracting, the way the polo clung to his upper back and shoulders, the sleeves secured snugly around his biceps.
He turned to look at her, and smiled appreciatively. “You found something then.”
“Yep, hope you don’t mind.”
I can take it off if you want?
“A man’s shirt never looked so good.” He left the stove to stand opposite her at the breakfast bar.
“His boxers never felt so good.” Melody winked at him, and took a bite of bread dripping with olive oil. She ate, then took another mouthful of wine before talking again.
“Alec.” Her voice was cautious.
“Yes, Melody.” He mimicked her tone, still smiling.
“Who is the woman in the picture?”
“Ah, you noticed that.” He didn’t sound angry, but his smile faded and he seemed just a little bit sad.
“It’s the only picture in the room, it was kinda hard not to.” She was trying to sound blasé, but knew it wasn’t working.
He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “Her name was Grace. She is my wife.”
“Oh.” It was all Melody could manage. To think in terms of a woman in a hundred-year-old picture and the man standing before her as married. It took a moment for her to get her head around the idea. What didn’t help her train of thought was the fact he didn’t say “
was
” but “
is
my wife.”
“She died sixty years ago. We had fifty very happy years together, but I couldn’t give her the one thing she really wanted.”
“I’m sure she didn’t want more than you—” Melody wanted to reassure him, but he cut her off.
“Children, Melody, I couldn’t give her children.” Alec’s eyes closed and his brow furrowed with the recollection, and it made Melody’s heart ache seeing the pain on his face.
She reached out, holding her hand against his cheek; his eyes remained closed, and he turned his head, kissing her palm, before opening his eyes and bringing her hand down to the counter, holding it still.
“Did you know, when you fell, that you wouldn’t be able to have children?”
“Yes. I told her, before I proposed. I wanted to give her a choice.”
“What about adoption?”
“I suggested it, but she told me she had enough children. She was a teacher.” His wistful smile turned slightly bitter. “I suppose I never forced the issue. With me not aging we moved often; in the end, people assumed I was her grandson.”
She turned her hand in his and squeezed gently. “You did give her a choice, and she made the right decision for her, because she loved you. Don’t shortchange that Alec.”
Not all of us are given a choice
.