A Model Romance (True Love Book 3) (11 page)

My fingers start shaking, and my body heat is rising. I fumble with the first button, and it’s a long shirt, we could be here awhile. I tell myself to calm down and focus on the task at hand. I even unbutton the cuffs. I see his muscled chest and his abs for the first time. I hear myself swallow. He has a small amount of chest hair, and the rest is bare.

“Take it off,” he whispers even more softly than before.

I’ve seen countless men with no shirt on, but this is so erotic I feel as if I’ll melt into a puddle at his feet. I grab the top of the collar, and slowly peel the shirt over his broad shoulders, and continue down his torso and back until it drops onto the floor. Another full erection has joined the party. This won’t be the night, will it? He’s made such a big deal out of our trip. I don’t understand, but right now, I don’t care. I’m enjoying this moment.

Even with my height, I still only reach his shoulders. I’m face to chest with him. He smells so manly: I don’t know if it’s cologne or just his natural scent, but it’s intoxicating. He keeps his eyes on my face, as he leans down to grab the bottom of my blouse. I unhook the loop at the back of the neck, and he raises it above my head. I’m not wearing a bra, so I’m standing in front of him naked from the waist up. His eyes fall from my face to my bare breasts. He has an intense look. I stand in wait for him to lean down and kiss them, or to feel his hands knead them, but nothing happens. We stand in our respective places, taking in the scent and sight of each other, but neither of us moving. He closes his eyes, and inhales deeply. His erection doesn’t go away, it seems to intensify.

When his eyes open, they’re black with desire. He moves in closer to my body, as close as possible without touching, and he inhales deeply once more. An unusual mix of ferocity and calmness emanates from his pores. The small, unclaimed area between our bodies is buzzing with electric current.

I have no idea how much time passes, but he is the first to move, and it’s slow and deliberate. He lifts his hands to my shoulders, and touches me with just the tips of his fingers. He draws an invisible line down the outside of my arms, and heat radiates from them. I stand like a tree planted deep in the ground, unable to move, only bend and sway. He mimics the action again, and this time the touch is even lighter than before, almost imperceptible.

I think he’s hypnotized me, I can’t move. If the fire alarm went off right now, they would find me burned to death, stuck in this spot. My heart rate, which was off the charts just a minute ago, has slowed to a light thump. My eyes close involuntarily to take in the sensation even more fully. Another moment passes, and I feel his sensuous mouth on mine. It wakes me from my trance. He’s stepped back a little, and is putting his shirt back on. I feel confused, and unsure of my whereabouts, as if someone has awakened me from a deep sleep.

“What’s happening? What are you doing?” I ask, as I watch him put his shirt and sweater back on.

“I can’t rush this, Rebecca. I don’t
want
to. I can’t seem to help myself around you; it’s really difficult.”

“Don’t you want me?” I ask, with a quiver in my voice.

I can’t understand: If he’s that attracted to me, why doesn’t he just rip my clothes off and go to town.

He looks pained.

“I want you more than anything or anyone I’ve ever longed for in my life. Please try to be patient with me, I swear to you, I’ll get there.”

He looks disappointed with himself. I go to him, put my arms around his waist and hug him tightly. He relaxes into it and hugs me back. I want to crack open the window to his mind so that I can understand all of this. I’ve developed some strong feelings, and I’m worried about him. I’m sure whatever the situation is, it can’t be any worse than what my active imagination is telling me.

“It’s OK, Wick. I’m not going anywhere. We’ve got nothing but time.”

* * *

Our big weekend is coming up. We’ve been spending as much time as we can together, and have even had a couple of sleepovers. He slept on the couch a couple of times before I insisted he try it in the bed with me.

“I swear, Wick, I’ll keep to my side. It’s chilly tonight, I need your body warmth,” I say, and he relents.

“OK, sweet girl, you win.”

We snuggled all night long. I don’t think either of us slept a wink, but it was wonderful to have him close. I felt his hardness many times throughout the night. He would roll over, breathe deeply, then come back to me. It had to be exhausting, I feel guilty that he has to go to work and try to function on no sleep. His job is dangerous enough without being sleep deprived.

“Thank you for a terrible night’s sleep, lass. However, I wouldn’t have changed a moment. I love you near me, I feel whole,” he says as he rolls over to face me and touch my tired face. He leans in and kisses each eye, then my lips, in his tender way.

“Are you going to be OK this weekend, Wick? If you’re not ready, we can postpone it,” I say, hoping he’ll take the bait and talk about his issues.

We leave in two days, and last night was the first night we’ve shared a bed. The added pressure of a full weekend may be too much.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry. This weekend is for both of us.” He kisses me again. “I really care for you, Rebecca. Thank you for waiting for me. I know I’ve been elusive, and all I can give you is the promise that I’m trying to open up. I have to go, but I’ll see you tonight, love.”

Love? We haven’t said those words yet, even though we both drop hints. I love him with all my heart. I just haven’t wanted to tell him until we get past these communication roadblocks. He has baggage, I just don’t know what or how much.

Chapter 10

I can barely breathe. Today is the big day: We’re leaving for our trip. He’s been quiet ever since we spent the night together. I’ve given him a couple of outs, but he’s insisting we go. I’ve packed enough clothes for a weeklong trip to Europe. It’s cold up there, really cold, but it’s Valentine’s Day. I need nice dresses for dinner and, of course, lingerie that I pray will be seen.

He’s at my place at noon sharp. When I open the door, the sight knocks me over. He’s standing there in his nice jeans, boots, the sweater I gave him for Christmas and dark sunglasses. He looks like sex walking. My libido can only take so much.

“Seriously? Look at you, Mr. Sex-on-a-stick. You’re too gorgeous for your own good. Get in here before my neighbors think I’m hiring escorts,” I say, trying my best to start this weekend on a light note.

It
should
be fun: A loving couple going away for a romantic weekend, with the small exception that one of us can’t seem to cross an imaginary line to sexual intimacy.

He smiles at my joke, then hurriedly steps inside. He gives me a lingering look, taking in my outfit. I pulled out all the stops today and dug deep into my closet for some of my high-end designer duds. I’m wearing skin-tight, black suede leggings, a low-cut emerald-green blouse, and above-the-knee stiletto boots. He looks appreciative.

“I don’t have to guess what you’d look like strutting down a runway. Becca, you look stunning. I don’t think I want to share you looking like that. I would have had a lot of trouble if I’d known you when you were modeling in New York. I’m a jealous man,” he says, looking deadly serious.

He is? I’ve never seen this side of him before. Yet, another layer peeled back on the Wick onion.

“Well, that’s no longer a worry. My runway days are over. All the wonderful meals you’ve been cooking for me will definitely make sure of that.”

“You need meat on you bones, love, and I’m happy to help.” He grabs my rear, and pulls me in close.

We’re the same height with me in my boots and we stand eye-to-eye. He stares at me lovingly and holds my face. He’s so close to saying something, I can almost see the words on his lips, but he kisses me instead. That was a missed chance to express our love for one another.

“You ready? I know I am.” He swats my butt, and grabs my two large suitcases like they weigh nothing;
I
had to throw them down the stairs this morning.

We have a wonderful ride to the resort. We talk about music, movies, food and all other sorts of nonthreatening details about ourselves. It’s a blustery day, which adds an aura of coziness to our adventure.

I see the first billboard advertisement for our resort that indicates we’re about twenty miles away. He must have seen it too because we both lose our chattiness. Reality is setting in. I’m ready to profess my love to this man, and I’m
beyond
ready to
make
love with him.

We valet park the car, and he tips the bellman generously to bring our bags to the room. The lobby is beautiful, dark wood Craftsman décor with the largest stone fireplace I’ve ever seen. We walk over to see it, and he offers me a seat in one of the rocking chairs as he fetches spiked warm cider. It looks like Noah’s Ark in here: couples, and only couples, as far as the eyes can see. It’s a romantic setting, I can see why this place would be hopping this weekend.

He checks us in, and has a lengthy conversation with the desk clerk. I can’t hear them, they’re too far away, but I see a lot of hand gestures. Wick has a devil’s grin on his face when he approaches me.

“Ready to see the room?”

More ready than he’ll ever know.

“Sure!” I down the rest of my drink, and spring out of the rocking chair a little too enthusiastically. He laughs.

“I guess you are, love,” he says as he holds out his elbow for me to take.

Our “room” is actually a villa larger than my condo. These villas weren’t visible driving in to the resort: They’re on the lakefront. There is a large fireplace in the bedroom, a small kitchen, a living area with no TV and a large outdoor patio with a fire pit. He must have arranged to have it supplied before we arrived; there is food in the refrigerator and wine in the bar. We can stay in here all weekend, undisturbed, if we so choose.

We walk out onto the patio, and there is a hot tub nestled near the rocky waterline. The villas are close together, but their juxtaposition ensures full privacy. The water in the hot tub has been preheated, and there is a cloud of steam rising from it. As I stand and enjoy the view, Wick goes back inside to open a bottle of wine and bring it outside with two glasses.

“Isn’t it a bit cold to drink that out here?” I ask, as I shiver in the damp cold.

He walks past me and sets everything down on the small table near the hot tub.

“Not if we’re in here,” he says, as he begins to undress.

Holy shit. My heart.

In no time flat, he is standing in front of me, buck naked, and it’s a beautiful sight. The vista behind him should bow down in defeat. His eyes twinkle mischievously, and he hops in the warm water. Even though it’s bone chilling out, the man has an impressive cock. I could have guessed that based on how many times I’ve seen it tent his pants.

He lets out a cross between a low growl and a scream when his body hits the water. He settles in, and motions for me to join him. I’m encouraged by this turn of events so soon. I hate the cold, so I rush over and make haste in removing my clothes. No time for a sexy striptease when it’s close to freezing. I let out a similar sound when I step into the water, which, at first, feels like it will slowly boil us to death. After a moment my body acclimates, and it feels like heaven. Wick comes and sits next to me and hands me my glass of wine.

“Here’s to you, me lovely lass, and to us,” he says as he clinks his glass to mine and, in one gulp, empties it. He reaches for the bottle, and refills it to the top.

I think he’s looking for some liquid courage, which is not the worst idea. I try to do the same, but it takes me quite a bit longer to down one glass. He finishes the first bottle then runs like hell inside to get another. I’ve never seen him drunk, or even tipsy, since when we go out one of us has to drive and it’s usually him. Maybe this will act as the truth serum we could desperately use.

Turns out, it doesn’t make him talkative, it makes him horny, very horny, although, he has yet to touch any part of my naked body except for my arms and face. As his eyes begin to glaze over, a couple of bottles later, he takes my glass along with his and sets them down on the table, almost missing the mark.

He grabs me and pulls me to sitting on top of his lap, his semi-erect cock resting between our bodies. As soon as my body is against his, it goes from semi to full almost instantly. This is usually the time when he shuts his eyes and mentally forces it to go down. Not tonight. He’s enjoying the feeling of having a full cock up against my body. We’ve made leaps and bounds already, and we’ve only been here an hour. The possibilities for the weekend are looking bright.