MaleAndroidCompanion (22 page)

Oh hell. What did he have to lose?

Thick emotion threatened to choke him. He
had never confessed this sentiment to another woman before. “I love you.”

Gia’s body melted with the deep chord in
his voice. She smoothed her palms over the solid surface of his back, shivering
not from the chill in the room but the array of feelings assailing her. Marc
declared his love with so much passion and conviction she could almost believe
he meant it. She needed to believe it more than anything.

When his hand closed over her breast and
his teeth tugged at her nipple, she moaned. With his mouth raising havoc, she
threw all restraint out the window and whispered, “I love you too.”

He stilled.

The ensuing silence was broken by a growl
that rumbled deep in his throat. Cool air flowed over her breasts. He crawled
to his knees, pushing a pillow beneath her hips before strong hands grasped her
legs, raising them until he locked his fingers around her ankles. Then he
spread her impossibly wider, baring her for the masculine hunger that burned in
his expression.

A flush singed her cheeks. No one had ever
revealed her in such a way or gazed at her with such ardor. It was both embarrassing
and arousing.

“You’re mine,” he stated unequivocally.

All her misgivings evaporated on the musky
air between them. A rush of welcoming desire flooded her core. The need to have
him buried inside her, filling her completely, was so overwhelming, for a
moment she couldn’t speak.

Gia weakly smiled past the lump in her
throat and blinked back tears. “Yes. I’m yours.” She would be his as long as
possible.

Still holding her legs in the air, he
pulled her tight against him, pressed against the ache of her moist sex. Skin
to skin, everything inside her screamed with delight as her body accepted every
inch to sheathe him.

Moving her hips in a tight circle, she felt
the coil inside her tighten. Then he began to make love to her with a slow,
sensuous rhythm that turned her liquid in his embrace.

Closing her eyes, she smoothed her palms
across her heavy breasts, finding their tender peaks. Fingers closing around
the tips, she squeezed. Sweet, sweet pain shot through them, making her back
arch off the bed.

“Damn, sweetheart, that’s hot.”

Gia opened her eyes to see Marc staring at
her fingers dancing across her nipples.

His nostrils flared. Eyes growing dark with
lust, he increased the pace of his hips. “More. Touch yourself.”

She pinched her nipples again at the same
time his cock bounced against the back of her pussy, hitting a spot that made
her entire body quiver.

“More, Gina.”

More? Trailing a hand over her belly, she
passed the small patch of tight curls and swiped a finger across her clit,
making herself shiver.

Breathless, he groaned, “Yeah, baby, that’s
it. Play with yourself.” Propping her heels against his shoulders, he grasped
her hips and fucked her harder, faster.

Powerless to stop the wild hunger whipping
through her body, she moved her finger over and over the bud. Her panting sighs
turned to whimpers. She wouldn’t last long this way. Even now her spasms made
her pussy throb. Rays of sensation filtered throughout her body. Slipping her
hand farther down, she circled his cock with her thumb and index finger. Slick
and wet, she squeezed and then ran her fingers up and down his length as he
thrust inside her.

A primal groan of satisfaction roared up
from somewhere inside him. “
Son of a bitch!
That’s incredible.” His
fingers bit into her skin. The thump of their bodies together was more than
music, it was pure ecstasy.

Marc was right. It was incredible. He was
incredible.

Gia shifted restlessly beneath him. Her
breasts ached, nipples stinging. Her body had become a furnace, a flame ready
to ignite.

His hips pumped faster, his balls slapping
against her ass, stroking that sensitive spot between her slit and her anus. He
grunted, thrusting harder and she felt his control slip. Bucking beneath him,
her hand squeezed tightly before she released her grip and pinched her clit.
She tensed a split second before her scream of pleasure echoed through the
bedroom. Vision dimming, she shook as each contraction sent shocks throughout
her body, her hand falling away.

Marc reared back and drove forward before
he ground against her swollen clit, sending another series of spasms crashing
through her body. Her inner muscles clenched greedily around his cock. Her
tattered cry mixed with his as her sex tightened and released, milking him.

A minute later her legs fell from his shoulders,
dropping slowly to the bed. He collapsed atop her. His heavy weight trapped
her, but she had no complaints. Both their bodies were moist and hot from their
loving. Her heart pounding in her ears matched his beating wildly beneath his
chest, lying against hers.

A smile curved his lips. He pressed them to
her forehead and then rolled off her. “I could live like this forever.” He
pulled her into his arms and she snuggled close.

So could she, but how long was forever?

Neither of them slept as they lay wrapped
in each other’s arms. Moonlight filtered through the break in the curtains.
Outside Marc could hear the last of the die-hard partiers whooping and
hollering. Several people appeared to have had one too many drinks tonight. The
music had ended thirty minutes ago but that didn’t stop a man who couldn’t hold
a tune as he belted out a song Marc had never heard before.

Gina giggled. “Sounds like Faith will have
her hands full tonight.”

“Parker?”

“Parker,” she confirmed.

“I like your family,” Marc said before he
realized it.

She cuddled closer. “I get the feeling they
like you too.”

Smoothing his palm down her bare back, he
wondered about her father. “Your dad hasn’t said much.”

“He’s a wait-and-see kind of guy. He’ll
withhold judgment for a while longer.” Gina slid her silky leg up and down
Marc’s.

“Your mother?”

“Only positive comments from her.”

He twirled a lock of her hair between his
fingers and then buried his nose in the silky mass, inhaling her sweet scent.
“Sister?”

“Other than thinking you’re sex on a stick?
I haven’t spoken to her much.”

“Sex on a stick?” He chuckled.

Gina nudged him in the side. “Don’t be
getting any ideas. Remember you’re mine.”

It thrilled him to hear her say that. He
pressed his lips to her forehead and held her a little closer. Hopefully,
tomorrow she would remember the endearing words they had exchanged this night.

Except for the flutter of a couple of
people below, silence filled the space between them. His eyelids were heavy,
falling as sleep approached.

“Marc?”

“Huh?”

She hesitated, releasing a soft sigh.
“Never mind. Go back to sleep.”

“I’m not sleeping.” In fact, he was wide
awake now. Clearly, something was nagging her.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” she insisted.

Tomorrow planned to be a hell of a day. One
he would rather not confront, but knew he had no choice. Either Gina would be
his forever or she’d send him packing.

There was no doubt in his mind he couldn’t
walk away. If he had to pursue her ’til the end of time, he would. Another
woman would never satisfy him.

He wanted—no, needed Gina.

Chapter Eleven

Beneath the large pavilion, a smorgasbord
of food from a variety of cereals to Belgian waffles and custom omelets made by
a chef behind a grill was available. The juicy aroma of sausage and bacon
wafted in the crisp morning air laced with pine and the sweet scent of flowers
arranged on each table. Gia sliced into her eggs Benedict, the rich hollandaise
sauce oozing from the sides, and took a bite. Chewing, she smiled at her mother
and sister as they took a seat beside her.

“Marc with the others?” Becka asked.

Several of the men had risen early to go
fishing.

Before speaking, Gia took a drink of water
to wash down her breakfast. “Yes. They left at dawn.” Several hours after she
and Marc had finally gone to sleep. How he rose this morning she’d never know.
It had been chilly and way too early for her liking. She disliked it even more
when she realized she would be deprived of his warmth next to hers.

Over a cup of coffee, her mother looked at
Gia. “He seems very attentive to you.”

Another grin found its way to her lips. “He
does, doesn’t he?”

In his arms, she had found a small slice of
happiness. No matter what Marc really was, he made her feel special.

Nibbling on a piece of dry toast, her mouth
full, Becka glanced between Gia and their mother. “So is he the one?”

Gia wanted to say yes, but her better
judgment swooped in at the last minute. “No. Just entertainment for a while.”
The realization washed the joy from her soul, leaving an empty hole.

If this was love—it sucked.

How could she give him up? He was
everything she had ever wanted. Well, except he wasn’t human and there would be
no children.

Dammit. She didn’t want to think about this
right now.

A male android with cold blue eyes and
blond hair, holding a tray of juices and pitchers of coffee and water stopped
by their table and her mother shooed him onward before he could interrupt.

“Don’t let Aunt Clare hear you say that.
After last night’s event with your agent, she has Marc on a pedestal and
wedding bells ringing,” Becka warned.

“Great. And that’s former agent.” That’s
all Gia needed to deal with. Thank God they were leaving tomorrow. The thought
of having Marc all to herself back home was appealing. Could she hide him in
her mansion so that no one was the wiser?

“Clearly, he thinks you’re the one.” Her
mother blew the steam from her coffee and then took a sip.

“It’s star infatuation. He’ll get over it.”
But would she? Even now all she wanted to do was be by his side. He was a drug
in her veins. She had to have him.

Yet what if the media discovered the truth?

The thought made her stomach roll. Time was
against them. Even if she kept him under lock and key, while she aged, grew
wrinkled and gray, he would still be in pristine shape, never getting older or
fat.

Gia pushed her plate away, suddenly no
longer hungry.

“Grandpa!” Becka yelled, getting up from
her chair and moving toward him. “I thought you were ill?” She walked into his
open arms. “Mom, he doesn’t look well.”

“Ill? Me?” His voice shook.

Gia noted his pale complexion. He was
dressed in tan khakis and a brown polo shirt, and his hair had thinned since
the last time she’d seen him. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he was
shrinking in height too.

Her mother rose. “Dad, are you sure you’re
all right?”

He frowned. “Stop all this fussing, Becka.”
He planted a kiss on her cheek before receiving his daughter. “I’m as fit as a
fiddle.”

Their mother gave him a squeeze and
released him.

Stepping forward, he turned his sharp gaze
on Gia. “Come here, my little shining star.”

Gia moved to her feet and stepped into his
embrace. “Grandpa.” Breathing in his subtle cologne, memories raced through her
head. He had always been supportive of her career. Maybe that’s because he had
told her once that she could always come home.

He leaned close to her ear. “Everything
okay?”

“Fine,” she lied.

Holding her at arm’s length, he openly
scrutinized her. “Lies. They are wallowing in your eyes.”

“Oh Grandpa.” Gia’s smile didn’t come close
to reaching those lying eyes he referred to.

“Nothing to do with that Charleston boy, is
it?” he grumbled.

Gia flinched. “Why would you say that?” And
who had been talking to him about Marc?

“I guess I didn’t mention that your
grandfather knows Marc personally. Plus, he has accounts with our bank.” Her
mother pulled a chair out and motioned for her father to sit down, while Becka
went to the breakfast bar to retrieve him a plate.

Gia nearly swallowed her tongue. “What?”

Oh God.

There was an actual Marc Charleston out
there. Well, of course, there would be. The world was a huge place. But what
were the odds that her grandfather would know the
real
Mr. Charleston
and that he would have accounts with their banks?

Grabbing the back of the chair to steady
herself, Gia attempted to regroup. “How? I mean—” She cleared her throat.
Slowly she sank into her chair. “How do you know Marc?”

“I met him at the Klondike Charity Auction
and played golf with him once about two years ago. Our paths cross occasionally
at other charity functions, and I knew his parents when they were alive.” He
glanced up at Becka as she set a plateful of fruit and eggs before him, along
with a cup of steaming coffee. “Thanks, sweetie.”