The Geek Girl and the Scandalous Earl (18 page)

“Sorry,” she whispered. She turned to go into her bedroom, but her foot caught on her long skirt and she fell against him.

“Careful,” he said quietly, helping her regain her footing. She shrugged free of his gentle grip.

“I’m fine. Go off to your mistress or whatever. I’ll be gone tomorrow.”

When she would have shut the door in his face, he stopped her. His body was tense, face dark as he said, “You will do no such thing, Jamie Marten. Call Muriel. Once you have changed into your nightclothes, I will meet you in my bedchamber.”

Mike had to shut the door for her. Jamie was too stunned to do it for herself.

His words had the effect of an ice-cold shower on her brain—still fuzzy but a helluva lot clearer than it had been before. Holy shit. Were they really going to do this?

Jamie yanked on the bell cord a little harder than necessary. Muriel entered the room only moments later at a dead run.

“Whatever is wrong, miss? Are you ill?”

“Yes. No. Not ill. Tipsy. Well, drunk. Seriously. Not kidding. And sorry. Can you help me change?”

Muriel’s pale-blue eyes went round at Jamie’s response, but she came forward and started undoing the buttons anyway. Jamie caught sight of Muriel’s face in the mirror and guilt gnawed at her when the maid pulled the pins from her hair. Muriel had done such a great job on it, and she hadn’t even given Mike a chance to look at it before she got shitfaced.

Once Muriel had loosened all the layers enough so Jamie could take over, Jamie shooed her from the room. Muriel didn’t need to see the last-minute cleansing session.

Jamie had had her daily bath, but she hadn’t felt clean enough in weeks. She used the chilly water in the basin and a clean cloth, trying her best to scrub any lingering offensive odors away. She didn’t wash away Muriel’s special perfume though. She liked it.

She’d contemplated having Mrs. K borrow Mike’s razor so she could shave her legs, but once she’d learned it was a straight razor, she’d given up. Knowing her luck, she’d go all Sweeney Todd on herself accidentally.

Jamie stood naked in front of the mirror, turning this way and that, nerves chomping at her confidence and draining the comforting haze of alcohol away.

She’d put on a little weight since she’d been there. Jean Philippe definitely cooked better than she was used to. Her hair looked good, a tumble of soft curls down her back, but her highlights had started growing out a bit. Dark roots showed at her crown.

Her legs weren’t smooth and hairless as she liked them to be. The first thing she was going to do when she got back home was invest in some laser hair removal. She grimaced as she realized she wasn’t beautiful like Collette was. The black-haired beauty probably looked like a perfect porn star when she was naked. Jamie sighed in disappointment and turned away from the mirror. Either Mike would be interested or not. He’d want her or not. He’d love her or not. And there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to influence any of those decisions.

She slipped the nightgown over her head, pulled on a robe, fluffed out her hair, practiced an alluring smile, and headed out of her bedroom to Mike’s chamber.
Here goes nothing. Or everything. Whichever.

Her soft knock on Mike’s door was met by his voice calling, “Enter.”

She laughed nervously as she opened the door. “You sound like Captain Picard when you say that.”

“Who?” He crooked a brow at her and rose from his seat by the fireplace. He’d removed his jacket, waistcoat, boots, and cravat. He looked much more comfortable in his stockinged feet, shirt, and breeches. There was no sign of the hound who’d been snoozing on the bed before dinner.

Jamie shook her head. “Nobody.” She walked over to him, trying her best to control the rampaging circus poodles in her stomach.

“Please, have a seat.” He gestured to the chair next to him.

“Okay.”

She sat. He sat. They stared at each other. He cleared his throat. She tucked a curl behind her ear.

He smiled. “Allow me to pour you a drink.”

Her jaw dropped, and she couldn’t stop the snort of laughter that escaped her as he cracked up.

“You…you cretin! That’s not funny!”

He wiped his eyes. “My apologies, Miss Marten. It seemed to help lighten the mood, however.”

She poked at his shoulder. “Yeah, it did that. But I think I’m going to stay away from the Axelby punch from now on if that’s okay. Where’d you get that recipe, anyway?”

He cocked his head to the side, not unlike Baron did when he heard an odd noise. “Axelby punch?”

“Yeah, the pink stuff I was drinking. Thornton told me you made it for me. Or was that a secret that I blew?”

Mike’s forehead furrowed. “No, it is not. To my knowledge, no one in my family has ever had a punch recipe. Pink, did you say? Mrs. Knightsbridge used to be fond of a sort of punch that was that color, as I recall.”

She narrowed her eyes at the bedroom door. “Ooh, that Mrs. K is crafty. She put the butler up to doing her dirty work. Well played, adversary, well played.”

“What?”

Jamie shook her head at Mike. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to Mrs. K tomorrow.”

He leaned forward, cupping her cheek softly. “I should not want you in this way. You are not a Cyprian; you are a lady. I should wed you before lying with you.”

She closed her eyes against the tiny flutter of hope that took root in her heart. Back home, that might have meant he loved her. But in this time? No. It wasn’t a declaration of anything other than that he was a gentleman. But if she wanted to discover his true feelings, then she’d have to ride this thing out.

“I’m not a lady,” she said, raising her hand to cover his. She squeezed it gently, enjoying the feel of his long, lean fingers. “I’m just me. And you’re just you. That’s all we have to think about right now.”

He closed the rest of the distance between them, pressing his lips to hers. The distance from her chair to his proved too far for either of them, and she was eager to stand when he pulled her against him. He shoved the robe from her shoulders, and the fabric pooled at her feet.

The single layer of her cotton nightgown was so much thinner than the dress and petticoats had been. Mike’s erection pressed plainly against her belly, burning hot against her. Her hips twisted against his as they kissed.

She wasn’t sure who maneuvered who to the bed, but she was thrilled to be lying on it. The heady feeling of Mike’s kisses and the alcohol still fogging her brain made it tough to keep on standing.

Mike’s body pressed her down into the softness of his bed, their mouths tangling wildly together. His tongue traced the line of her teeth, and his hands roamed her body hungrily.

“Jamie,” he rasped when he lifted his head. “If you are not sure about this, then I need to know immediately. I am only a man. I cannot…”

“Shut up and kiss me,” she said, pulling his head down to her.
I’ve always wanted to say that.
She smiled to herself as they got lost again in their kiss.

Their mouths, hands, arms, bodies tangled there on the sheets. Her fingers had gained enough feeling back in them that the buttons on his shirt presented less challenge than before. She managed to get three of them undone before popping the rest as she pulled the shirt free of his shoulders.

He ran his hand up her bare leg, beneath her nightgown. She shuddered at the feel of her hands on his shoulders, of his hand on her thigh, of the wet heat gathering at her core. She arched her back, pressing her breasts against him. The barrier of her nightgown irritated her. She wanted her bare breasts against his chest. She wanted to feel his naked body against hers. She wanted him, all of him.

He knelt between her legs as he shoved his shirt free from his arms. She let her eyes linger on the sight of his lean, strong body. His abdomen was lined with just the right amount of hair dusted across his pecs, thickening in a line that disappeared below his trousers. His broad shoulders trembled, a light sheen of sweat coating them. Backing off the bed, he stood, fingers poised at the waist of his trousers.

“Last chance, Jamie.” His voice was rough with passion. “If you do not stop me now, then I will not be able to.”

She smiled at him. Rising onto her knees, she lifted the nightgown over her head.

The breath that blew from him at the sight of her nude body was ego candy, pure and simple. His nostrils flared, his eyes went wide, and a hungry look crossed his face.

“I don’t want you to stop.”

He unfastened his trousers, all the while keeping his eyes trained on her. She leaned back, feeling womanly, sexy, and as desirable as she’d ever felt. When he pulled the tight black pants down, revealing his fully erect shaft, she blew out a breath of her own.

“You are incredible, Mike. Really incredible.”

He removed the trousers, leaving them in a heap on the wooden floor. He stood in front of her naked, erect, and completely unashamed. She felt a rush of heat to her core, wetness pooling in her center for him. She’d never been so aroused at the sight of a man before.

Mike came closer, standing at the edge of the bed.

“You are staring at me.”

She didn’t look away from that delicious object between his legs. “Yes, I am.”

He grew harder under her gaze.
Oh
Lord.

Her legs rubbed together in an unconscious bid for relief. Her body was tuned tighter than a guitar string.

He didn’t keep her waiting for long. When she held her arms out to him, he knelt on the bed, covering her body with his own.

She’d liked kissing Mike before. With layers and layers of clothes between them, it had nearly ignited her bloomers. But this, as their naked bodies were pressed flush one against the other, this almost made her die on the spot with want.

His hardness pressed against her belly, so hot she thought he’d burn her. Her hands roved the muscled planes of his back, down to his ass, up his lean hips, to his shoulders, and back again. His lips took possession of hers, lips, teeth, and tongue all engaged in pleasuring her. Her nipples, harder than they’d ever been, pressed against the soft hair on his chest, the tickling sensation beyond erotic to her fevered brain.

Mike rolled them so that Jamie was lying atop him. She lifted her head, lips swollen and tingling from their kiss. With a wicked smile, she straddled him.

“Ah!” A surprised moan escaped her at the feel of the slick head of his shaft rubbing against her wet heat. She ground her hips against him, savoring the feeling.

“Careful there,” Mike groaned, his fingers digging into her hips. “I’ll not last long that way.”

She leaned forward, her hair making a curtain around them. Pressing her lips to his neck, she kissed her way down it like he’d done to her. He tasted so good.

The strong lines of his collarbone, the firm muscles of his pecs, the flat masculine nipples—they all got her attention. She ran her hands all over his body, every place she could reach. He felt so good, his skin smooth, hot, and firm. When she reached behind her body, between his legs to cup him, his hips pushed upward, harder against her. She thought she’d die as his erection ground against her clit.

“Jamie,” he rasped.

She fondled him gently, the smooth, slightly cool skin feeling so good to her palm. She was so focused on the hand that was occupied with caressing him that his touch on her breasts took her by surprise.

He captured them both, hands firm but gentle upon her flesh. He flicked both hardened nipples with his thumbs, pinching and rolling them slightly as she moaned.

With regret, she released him and leaned forward to press her hands against Mike’s chest.

“What are you doing to me?” she cried softly, clamping her thighs tightly against his hips.

“Only what you asked for,” he said, then wrapped an arm around her shoulders to pull her down to him.

It wasn’t her mouth he was after this time though.

Bracing her hands on either side of his neck, she supported her body while he positioned her breast above his mouth. He pulled her down, close enough to suck on the tight bud.

His lips played her, teasing, taunting, flicking the sensitive flesh. Her hands fisted in the bedclothes as she fought for control. Her belly was burning, deep down, low, and his skin against the sensitive damp of her core was driving her crazy. His erection pulsed against her sensitive flesh, his mouth went from breast to breast in a ploy designed simply to drive her insane, she was sure. Another few minutes of this and she would burn up in complete and total frustrated lust.

“Please,” she begged, twisting the sheets in her grip as Mike bit her nipple. “Please, I want you so badly.”

“What do you want?” He blew a breath against the sensitive, wet skin of her breast.

“I want you inside me,” she whispered close to his ear.

His hand rubbed down her body, his fingers dipping into the wet sheath between her thighs. A finger parted the folds, and her body responded, welcoming him. His fingers moved within her, wrenching a gasp from deep in her throat. She was ready. She was beyond ready.

He didn’t wait to be invited a second time.

He rolled them over again, covering her body with his own. Her legs were still open, and he was poised at the entrance to her body. When she glanced down between them, she saw the dark heat of him, slick from where he’d been pressed against her core.

“Please,” she begged again, lifting her hips to him. “Please, I need you.”

His hips pushed forward, the head of him barely breaching her. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she fought for control. Her body had turned into a mindless organism, focused on one thing alone. That thing was Mike and the incredible pleasure he was giving her.

He slid forward slowly, so gently, taking his time. He stretched her softly, her body’s wetness accommodating him with ease. A centimeter at a time, it seemed, he came deeper into her.

It was too much. She couldn’t wait anymore.

With an upward thrust of her hips, he came high and deep into her. She gasped with pleasure, her inner walls pulsing around his thick erection. Her body seemed to grab onto him, not wanting to let him go. She let her arms follow suit, winding around his back.

He groaned against her neck, a rumbling shudder that pulsed into her.

“Don’t stop,” she said, pushing her hips up again. “It feels so good…”

She had to give it to the man. When a woman told him what felt good, he went for it with gusto.

He started a rhythm, slowly at first, groaning when he nearly left her body to come sliding home once more. He increased his rhythm gradually, looking into her eyes, kissing her, rubbing his hands anywhere and everywhere he could get to.