Trusting Again (13 page)

With no light from behind or on the deck itself and a moon still struggling to overcome the clouds drifting past, they were in complete darkness. They sat quietly, sipping coffee for a while as if they were each trying to come up with what would be a comfortable topic of conversation.

After kissing her on the temple, Marius broke the silence. “Not to bring up a difficult subject again but is there anything I can bring back to you from my trip?”

“Bring back to me? You mean, like a present?”

He kissed her again. “Yes,
querida,
I mean like a present.”

“You don’t have to bring me anything. You’ll be too busy working to worry about something like that.”

“But I want to.”

“Just pictures, then, of all the places you’re going. Where I’ve never been. I’d like pictures.”

“And maybe a surprise? Do you like surprises?”

“Not big ones. But I guess I like little ones okay.” She didn’t want to think what kind of surprise he might have for her when he returned.

He put his mug on the deck and took hers, placing it beside his discarded one. Taking her face in his hand he said, “But no surprises tonight. Tonight I want to hold you and kiss you and love you.”

“Oh, yes,” she said on a quick intake of breath. “I want that, too.” She sat up and faced him. “But first … ” She put one leg over his and ran her hands up his thighs.

“There’s always a
but
with you, isn’t … ” He stopped as she settled herself between his legs. “Cynthia, what … ?”

She was acting on an impulse. Although her heart was trying to hold on to the idea that he’d come back to her, her brain kept telling her that this might be the last night she’d spend with him. She wanted to make the night special, as good as it could be. A night she — if not he — would always remember. And this was as good a time to do what she was about to do as there had ever been.

“Sh-h-h,” she said as she slowly lowered the zipper on his trousers. “Just sit back and enjoy this.” She released his stiffening cock from where it was beginning to tent up his boxers, curled her fingers around it and began to massage the shaft, feeling it grow harder and thicker. Even in the dark, she could see his face change from curiosity to desire, swore his dark eyes become darker; heard his sharp intake of breath. When he groaned and whispered her name, it gave her the courage to do something she’d never done before, never wanted to do before to any man.

Slowly, she lowered her head until the head of his penis was between her lips. Running her tongue over the glans, she could taste his salty essence. She licked up one side and down the other, lingered on the tip. As she took him into her mouth, she could feel his member twitch, heard him groan again; felt him buck his hips up towards her. She circled him with her tongue, sucked him further into her mouth, feeling her nipples harden, her breasts get heavy and her panties wet, getting as much pleasure as she was giving.

She didn’t know why she had never done this before with him. It was empowering, hearing how he responded to every lick, every touch. She could get lost in just doing this all night, she thought as she sucked and licked.

But he gritted out through clenched teeth, “Cynthia, if you don’t stop now, I won’t … ” He pushed her head away so her mouth came off his penis with a soft “pop.”

She looked up at him, her hand still around his shaft, trying to gauge the expression on his face in the dark. “Marius, I want to.”

“
Mi amor,
can we continue this in bed, while I can still walk there? While we still have a chance to be in this together?”

“Or, we could make love out here … I mean, if you don’t want me to continue with this.” Her voice shook as she made the most outrageous suggestion she could ever remember making.

He pulled her up beside him. “So, you’re my little exhibitionist. I never knew.” Apparently willing to join her in her game, he tugged on the zipper, working her dress down to her waist. When he’d gotten it as far as he could alone, she helped him get it the rest of the way off. In just her heels and panties now, she began pulling at his shirt buttons. He didn’t make it an easy task, caressing her breasts and trying to get his mouth all over her while she was unbuttoning him.

Finally, she succeeded and he stripped off the shirt. She had already gotten his trousers open, now she tugged at them, he lifted his hips and she yanked them down. The trousers, briefs, and his shoes ended up in a heap on the deck.

She got on her knees on the lounge chair, put her thumbs under the waistband of her panties and slowly, very slowly began to inch them down her hips. Her reward was a throaty growl and an attempt to hurry her along, but she swatted away his hands and continued with her lazy disrobing.

His patience must have snapped. He took her by the hips and settled her next to him, then finished the job she was apparently doing too slowly. “Off. Now,
mi amor.
We have to get those off.”

Her phony protest was buried in his kiss that quickly spiraled out of control, more like a brand on her mouth than a kiss. She slid her hands up his chest and over his shoulders, around his neck so she could pull him closer. Threading her fingers through his hair, she threw back her head and brought his mouth to her breasts. His tongue curled over her nipple, sending shocks from her chest down her torso to where everything was aching with arousal.

He cupped her butt with one hand and drew her closer. His erection was pressing hard against her sex. She’d never wanted anyone more than she wanted him right now. She slid over his body and straddled him, took his penis in her hand and began to guide it into her waiting, wanting body.

He gripped her wrist and stopped her. “Wait, we have to have … ”

“Protection.” She slid off him, dropped her head on his chest. “We have to have protection.”

“It’s inside. In the bedside table.”

They made an interesting sight walking into the bedroom, she was sure. She was in heels. Period. He was in socks. Ditto.

He must have noticed it too. “You know we are dangerously close to being a porno film, don’t you,
querida
?” he said. She must have looked confused because he went on. “Your heels and my socks. And what we were doing outside where we might be caught at any moment. All we need is a pizza delivery boy.”

“They all figure in porn flicks?”

“So I’m told.”

“So you’re told. Right.” She made a soft, almost snorty sound.

But one step further into the room and she stopped. In a voice much lower and throatier, she said, “On second thought,” she pulled the pins out of her hair and shook it out so it tumbled down her back, “maybe that’s not such a bad idea. Maybe I’d like being a porn star … for you.” She raised her arms over her head and began to deliberately rotate her hips in time to the sultry music that was playing. When she saw the desire spark in his eyes, she slid her hands down her sides, then up under her breasts. “Come closer, lover,” she said in the same husky voice. “Watch me dance for you.”

He took two steps toward her, grabbed her around her waist and said, “I’d rather dance
with
you than watch,
mi amor
,” and slowly, tantalizingly, moved her, one sensual dance move at a time, around the room and then toward his bed. The feeling of his naked body, his now steely erection against her belly, her soft breasts pressed against his hard chest, the hair tickling her nipples, made her even wetter than she had been. She put her head back and he dipped her so she almost touched the floor, holding her there as he kissed and licked his way from between her breasts to the hollow at the base of her neck.

Why, she thought, did she trust him not to drop her when they were dancing when she had such a hard time believing he cared enough about her to return to her after his trip? Was physical trust so much easier than emotional trust?

“Mother of God,” he said as he brought her upright, “I’ve never been with anyone like you. I’m in lo … ” He stopped; his face in shadow and unreadable. He shook his head then sat her down on the bed. Kneeling, he unbuckled her sandals and then helped her pull the comforter down.

After he shed his socks and joined her in bed, he said, “If this isn’t what you want, we can go back outside. I didn’t mean to interfere with your plans
.
”

“No, it’s fine. Here’s fine. Anyplace is fine. Just love me.” She hurried to talk over the last sentence. “Just
make
love to me.” She turned and pulled him to her, her hands all over him, trying to make him forget what she had said.

Marius had never seen this side of her, this naughty, slightly dirty side of her. Hell, he was willing to bet no one had ever seen it and if he had his way, no one else ever would. Every move aroused him, every kiss was returned with a passion that ate at his soul. When he moved down her body to take her breast in his mouth, she moaned with pleasure at the first touch, gasped at his teeth gently raking over the nipple, shivered when he sucked on first one breast then the other.

And when his hand made a foray down her belly, to the forest of damp curls between her legs, she moved restlessly, pushed at his hand, begging him to touch her where she wanted to be touched; needed to be touched. As he complied, his fingers in her hot, wet core, she came undone in his arms.

So exhausted was she by her orgasm that she fell asleep almost immediately. He watched her for a while, stroking her hair, listening to her soft, sleeping sounds then he carefully left the bed. When he’d gathered up their clothes from the deck, he came back to the room and closed the drapes. She was awake, looking around the room, as if confused.

“Hello there. I was afraid I’d lost you for the night,” he said.

“Where were you? I thought … ”

He held up the armload of clothes he was carrying. “It looks like rain. I wanted to bring all this in.”

“Oh, yeah. Good.” She put her arms out to him. “But we weren’t finished, were we?”

He dropped the clothes on a chair, pulled a condom from the bedside table and slid in beside her. “I’ll never be finished wanting to make love to you,
mi amor,
you know that.”

“Show me.” She grabbed the condom and pulled him toward her.

It was his intention to go slow, to make love to every inch of her body before coming inside her, but when he saw those sapphire eyes that seemed to be reflecting light from some mysterious source look up to him, he knew he didn’t have a chance of taking it slow. He kissed her, took the breath from her lungs and sucked her tongue into his mouth. Filling his hands with her breasts, he felt the hard tips of her aroused nipples, smelled the scent of her, the mix of peach and arousal he wanted to bottle and take with him.

Tearing open the condom wrapper with her teeth, she covered him, barely getting it on him before he had to roll over her, part her legs with his and enter her. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, her nails dug into his back as he drove deep into her, knowing he would never want another woman after Cynthia. Never love another woman after Cynthia. He was lost in her. Completely lost.

• • •

Three hours later, he was still awake, although she had drifted off to sleep after a second round of lovemaking. It had never been just sex with Cynthia, even though that’s what he had thought it would be at the start. He knew now it had always been making love.

He fought sleep, not wanting to waste the last few hours of being with her. He could sleep on the plane. Where he wouldn’t be holding her. Wouldn’t be able to touch her silky hair, listen to her soft breathing.

How he was going to get through six weeks without her, he didn’t know. Somewhere in the past few weeks, his fun summer with a beautiful blonde had turned into something else. He didn’t know when or how. But he’d fallen in love, deeply in love, with her. She was everything he never thought he’d find in one woman — sexy and beautiful, yes, but more importantly, warm, loving, talented, and smart. She made him laugh; she made him
want
at a level he never knew himself capable of. She made him want to abandon his plans for a well-ordered life in Miami for whatever life with her would be like. He could no longer imagine living anywhere unless it was with her.

And he was afraid of telling her because he didn’t know if she would believe him. If she would just hear the same words Josh had said before he left. If he could get his hands on that SOB, he’d make him pay for not only wrecking his own relationship with Cynthia, but what Marius wanted to have with her, too.

Punching out Josh Franzen had a certain appeal right now. It would channel the frustration he felt about failing at the other things he’d been trying. Tonight, for example. He’d set it up to remind her of how magical that first evening together had been. Instead, it seemed to have made her feel like he was saying good-bye for more than just six weeks. Nothing had worked out right, not the place, not the meal, not even going along with her impulsive idea to have sex on the deck.

So now what? What the hell did he have to do to convince her this was real, he was real? All he could think to do was to live up to his word. Come back to her so she would see he meant it. Then tell her he loved her and wanted them to make plans for a future together. Maybe that would do it. He hoped so. It was about all he had left.

In her sleep, she nestled against him, her soft curves fitting perfectly against his body, her peachy scent enveloping him. In spite of the two times they’d already made love, he wanted her again. Hell, he couldn’t think of any time in the past month he hadn’t wanted her.

It was going to be a long, long six weeks.

• • •

The next morning was difficult. Trying to keep a cheerful expression on her face wasn’t easy. She kept trying to smile, only to find her mouth resisting the effort.

He teased her, “I’m not going off to war,
mi amor.
It’s just a business trip.”

“I know,” she put her arms around him and snuggled her head to his shoulder. “It’s just been so perfect lately. I’m not looking forward to being without you, that’s all. I’m going to miss you like crazy.”