Julian's Pursuit (17 page)

Three weeks after Evan’s cardiac catheterization to place a stent in his left pulmonary artery, the PLE symptoms were gone. Evan recovered beautifully. And throughout the whole ordeal, Julian was by my side, helping me weather the storm. Calm in a crisis—that was him.

Evan’s recovery was a difficult time, and the intensity of emotions and events brought us closer much more quickly. Julian had seen me an emotional wreck, and Evan’s illness was as real as it got, but he hadn’t run for the hills.

When it came down to it, I think it was Julian’s understanding, his patience, and acceptance that helped me feel comfortable with the reality of my life.

I was a working mom with responsibilities and he was okay with that.

He was also okay with the fact that I was a loner. An introvert. I didn’t like to go out and socialize. I didn’t party or go to bars or do much over the weekends, and Julian never made me feel bad about who I was. He wanted to spend time with me all the time.

And he was supportive in all my dealings with my mom. More importantly, he never complained about the time I spent with Evan and seemed happy to devote plenty of his own time, too.

He saw how hectic my life was, how much I had to fit into each day, and he came to dinner most nights ready to roll his sleeves up and help out with anything. He was always the first to reach the sink and he swore that loading the dishwasher and washing the pots and pans was a form of relaxation for him.

After dinner, he’d sit at our kitchen table and help Evan out with his math homework. Then later, he’d drive my mom to her AA meetings while I put Evan to bed. Most nights, he was content to just stay in and massage my tired shoulders as I folded laundry or watched TV.

“Aren’t you bored with all this?” I asked him one night after Evan was in bed and my mom had retired to her room, leaving us alone in the living room. “I don’t go out, I don’t do anything fun. My life isn’t exciting. My daily grind consists of all the mundane things that make up a day… working all day, cooking and cleaning up, folding laundry, helping Evan with homework, sharing stories of the day. Wouldn’t you rather be out at a club or something?”

“Nah,” he said. “I mean, I used to like that scene… going out for drinks with my buddies, the music, everything. But the last couple years, I go to a club and I kinda wish I was home.” He searched my eyes and smiled, his face lighting with warmth. “And in these last couple weeks, I go home and I wish I was with you.”

At his words, I felt a blush rise on my neck and throat.

He reached for my hand. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? Letting me into your home. Into your life?”

Looking down at our joined hands, fingers entwined, I said quietly, “Before you… before this, I rarely said yes to myself. Evan’s needs, my mom’s problems, they always came first. I made no time for me, no time for any relationship. The ridiculous thing is I now realize I was the one creating those rules.”

“And Evan…” he said carefully. “How does he feel about you breaking all your rules?”

“He couldn’t be happier.” I bit back a smile. “Especially since he’s the one who encouraged me to break them.”

“Big E is
the man,
” he said with a laugh. “And I owe him one.” He was silent for a moment before continuing. “The other day, he asked me if I felt butterflies in my stomach when I was with you.”

“Oh yeah?” Nervous energy had my mouth drying out. “And what did you tell him?”

“I told him that when I’m with you, I feel the bears, the elk, the deer.” He gazed into my eyes as his fingers lightly traced the shape of my lips. “I feel the entire forest in my stomach when I’m with you.”

Emotion pinched sweetly in my chest. “The entire forest, eh?”

He sent me a lazy grin. An utterly charming and devastating grin. “The entire fucking forest.”

“And,” I said, my breath catching as his gaze latched on to my lips as I fought to draw in air. “What did Evan say to that?”

“He said:
Whoa! You must really like my mom
.”

I began to giggle, then to laugh.

In the silence that followed, the sexual tension heightened to a painful state as he stared at me without speaking, his eyes blazing with heat and desire and a deeper emotion that made my heart beat hard and fast in my chest.

It was something like relief when he lowered his lips to mine, his breathing slow and thick as he kissed me, hesitant at first, but growing more confident as I responded.

Closing my eyes, I melted into him, losing myself in the feel of him, losing myself in the kiss… it was slow and long and sensual, and he gave a satisfied groan as I slid my tongue between his lips.

Too soon, he broke the kiss and his eyes roamed my face as if he were reading my thoughts, or wanted to.

In the heated silence, I stared up at him, confident and certain that I wanted this, that I wanted
him
. Instinctively, my hands slid behind his neck and he crushed his mouth to mine, devouring me with the demanding pressure of his lips.

It was a hard, starving, bruising kiss.

Nothing else mattered except his lips slanting across mine, his tongue stroking deep into my mouth, probing, thrusting, tasting, exploring.

I kissed him back just as passionately, my hands slipping under his shirt, skimming down the slope of his muscled back, trying to pull him closer as my body arched beneath him, aching to feel skin against skin.

As if reading my mind, he slid his fingers beneath the straps on my shoulders and dragged them down my arms until my camisole was bunched around my waist and my breasts were freed.

A soft, unraveling moan fell from my lips as he lowered his head and curled his tongue around the distended peak before sucking it deep into the moist depths of his mouth.

While he milked my nipple with his soft, wet lips, he settled a hand over my other breast and swept his thumb over the violently sensitive tip.

Over and over, his thumb teased the pebbled tip as his mouth latched on to my other breast, suckling harder and harder until I felt my nipple pull, stretch, then elongate inside the silken depths of his mouth.

Blistering streaks of pleasure raced through my body and I felt that tantalizing pull all the way down to my weeping sex. I began moaning, writhing wildly beneath him.

He settled his weight more fully over my body, his erection settling between my thighs, the sharp metal zipper of his jeans pressing deep against my sensitized clit.

Desperately, I arched into him, rolling my hips as his raging erection pressed with delicious friction against my sex.

With his mouth still on my breast, consuming my aching nipple, he slipped a hand beneath the hem of my skirt and smoothed his palm up my thigh. His breathing turned rough and uneven as his fingers pushed under my thong, finding me slick and wet.

Giving into the unstoppable need, my hands went to unfasten his jeans.

With expert hands, he helped me along and shoved his jeans and boxer briefs down to his thighs, releasing his heavy, throbbing erection.

God. He was so hung. And so hard.

A low groan scraped from the back of his throat as he rubbed the sensitive head along the wet stretch of my thong, saturating the length of his shaft with my juices.

He watched me, his eyes never leaving mine as he teased me with his erection, the friction of his cock rubbing against the drenched material of my thong, sending delicious shivers rippling all the way up to my core.

Pressing his entire body along the length of mine, our gazes locked and tangled as he continued to thrust, the hard ridge of his erection digging into my clit as he rocked against the soaking wet fabric, driving me mad with carnal pleasure.

Even with the barriers between us, a sob lodged in my throat and blissful shudders wracked my body as I came apart, panting hard beneath him.

“God, I want you,” he rasped, pressing his lips close to my ear. “You said you never go out, you never have time for fun.” His voice was tortured now, dark and filled with urgency. “Let’s have some fun tonight.”

Pale moonlight spilled from the windows, illuminating Julian’s lean and muscular frame. God, he was magnificent. His blade-cut face was drenched with arousal and his erection jutted out from between rock-hard thighs, long and heavy.

I was already so wet for him.

And he was already so hard for me.

So what was he waiting for?

Condoms. Yes. We need condoms.

Immediately, I went to my nightstand, opened the drawer to retrieve a box of condoms, then paused when I found the leather restraints sitting there, still in a box, unopened and unused.

After a frozen moment, I reached for the box and opened it.

Turning to face Julian, I wet my lips and said, “Let’s try these.”

He simply gave me a slow, seductive smile and a look that said,
Who am I to argue?

Every muscle in my body tensed with arousal and anticipation as he slid the leather cuff around one of my wrists and fastened it to my bedpost.

Moving with a smooth and masculine grace, he tied my other wrist to the far post, then tested the bonds, lengthening them slightly so I was more comfortable.

And I was more than comfortable with this. While I spent my entire life being in control, asserting myself, I wanted none of that in bed.

With both my hands bound to the bedposts, I felt deliciously trapped beneath him, my body bared naked, his for the taking.

But he didn’t take.

His mouth was unsmiling as his dark, glittering gaze raked over my body, then worked back up very slowly.

A clenching pleasure gripped my womb as his bold and scorching stare heated me from the inside, sending a rush of creamy, slick warmth to spill from my sex.

Chapter Seventeen

Holy fuck
. Sadie was a vision, the sight of her like a hard punch to my gut, driving all the air from my lungs.

Her long dark hair fanned across her shoulders, a striking contrast against the milky paleness of her skin.

With her hands bound to the bedposts, her rounded, upturned breasts jutted forward, and those large, peach-colored areolas strained toward me.

“Peaches,” I rasped, watching the rise and fall of her breasts. Even her tightly beaded nipples were the color of peaches. They weren’t pink, they weren’t rose, they were peach and I couldn’t wait to taste them.

My burning gaze raked over her body, taking in the slim waist that flared into lush curving hips. She watched me as I watched her, moving her legs, rubbing the wet slipperiness between her thighs.

God. She was drenched, her juices seeping out of the smooth folds of her sex and my cock leaped at the generous evidence of her arousal.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” I said roughly, before catching her mouth in a deep, hungered kiss, sucking her lower lip hard between my teeth, nipping erotically, holding her lip hostage before gently releasing it.

Then I prowled down her body, watching her creamy tits jiggle enticingly as she struggled against the leather restraints.

With my arms braced on either side, I dipped my head and ran my tongue along the fullness of her supple breasts.

Her lips parted to release a soft sigh and she arched her back, impatient for more.

At my own leisure, I laved at her succulent flesh, tracing the circumference of each breast.

A series of lazy circles that slowly—
gradually
—spiraled inward toward the large discs of her areolas.

Silky, wet, slippery circles.

All the while, she watched me, her brilliant gaze tracking every movement I made.

When finally I reached the stiff, throbbing peak of her nipple and flicked my tongue across the distended tip, she cried out, incoherent with sharp delight.

Her wrists jerked, straining against the leather cuffs as I took her nipple into my mouth, gently sipping the tender bud between my lips until I heard her moan deep in the back of her throat.

Then I tugged lazily at the sensitive crest, watching her nipple protrude, then lengthen before returning to capture it in my mouth.

Again and again, I suckled her succulent breasts, then tugged lazily away at her nipples, my gaze hypnotized each time her tits swayed upon release.

By the time I was done, the peaks were damp and swollen from my tender assaults.

My cock was already heavy and hard for her, the slit gleaming with a bead of semen as I paused to take my fill of her—bound to the bedposts, breasts heaving, nipples engorged, skin flushed with arousal, eyes shimmering with lust as her juices wept from her pussy.

She held my gaze, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips. “Fuck me,” she breathed.

“Not yet, peaches.” I kissed her inner thigh. Then I kissed the inside of her other thigh. “I want to taste you first. And then I’m gonna fuck you.”

Settling myself between her long and slender legs, I licked and nipped my way up the inside of her thigh, leaving soft imprints with each erotic nip; a reminder that I’d tasted every inch of her body.