A Taste of You (23 page)

William was right when he said there was something undeniable between us. I couldn’t deny it anymore. I had no idea how William would respond when he saw me, but I didn’t care. I had to try. I had to take my chances.

I
needed
to see him.

The bottom floors of The Peninsula Hotel housed retail shops, so it took me a few moments to reach the hotel. When I did, I found the place, as expected, superb. I was so anxious to see William that I barely noticed the luxury. The concierge informed me the event was in the Grand Ballroom, and I made my way there as quickly as possible. I showed my ticket and entered, but as soon as I did, I realized I was late. The guests were seated at their tables, listening attentively to the speaker on the platform. The voice sounded familiar, and I gaped when I realized William stood behind the podium at the front.

I hadn’t known he would be speaking. This was a rare chance to watch him unnoticed. I stood quietly inside the door, listening to William’s address. “I could stand here and tell you that cancer research is vitally important,” he said. “That as a nation, as a world, we are called to support this research in every way we can. I could tell you the statistics, the different forms of cancer, the number of people who die from it every year, the cost to our nation and our world. But none of that would mean much unless you had a personal connection. I suspect many of you, like me, do have a personal connection.”

I was impressed so far. William was a compelling speaker, and I was all but leaning forward, listening.

“When my aunt, a woman who is like a mother to me, was diagnosed with cancer two years ago, there were few places that offered cutting-edge treatments for a cancer like hers. I could send her to Houston. I could send her to New York or Baltimore. Here we are in Chicago, the country’s third largest city, and we had nothing to rival MD Anderson or Sloan-Kettering. It stunned me. I hadn’t realized how vital cutting-edge cancer treatment centers were or that my own city was lacking. But then, none of us do—until we’re touched by cancer personally.

“Unfortunately, many of you have been or will be touched by cancer in your lives. You or a loved one will be diagnosed, and I am pleased to say that in the Lambourne Cancer Wing at Chicago Hospital, the most cutting-edge cancer research and treatment options will be offered to patients. Chicago is a world-class city, and it’s only fitting that we offer the latest and the best. And so, on behalf of the Lambourne family, I am pleased to be part of something that will save the lives of so many…”

William was not done speaking, but applause exploded. I clapped too. I had never seen him speak so earnestly, so passionately. He rarely spoke of anything personal, but this was close to his heart. He paused, as if to control his emotion, before going on.

William waited for the applause to die down, glancing about the room. As he did, his gaze landed on me. Our eyes locked, and even though I wanted to look away, I couldn’t. The pull I felt when he looked at me was too strong.

Finally, William cleared his throat and spoke again. “Proton therapy, smart drugs, treatments aimed at new genes and cancer pathways—these are but a few treatments the Lambourne Cancer Wing will offer patients.” He went on, speaking about immune systems and targeting cancer cells, but I couldn’t concentrate. All I could see were his stormy eyes, focused directly on me. And though he must have looked down at his notes or out at the audience, I felt as though he were speaking to me alone.

The speech ended, and the applause rose. The audience did too, giving William a standing ovation. William looked relaxed and easy as he left the podium, shaking hands, smiling, looking like a politician. He was in his element, no doubt.

And there was something else I did not doubt. He was headed straight for me.

My heart raced, and my hands shook as he neared me. I couldn’t move. My feet seemed to be rooted to the floor. I couldn’t stop staring at this glorious man who had been, briefly, mine.

He finally reached the edge of the room and held out his hand. My arm felt like lead as I lifted it. Electricity jumped between us when he embraced my hand in his large warm one, his grey eyes riveted on me. I could hardly breathe, hardly think.

“Catherine, how are you feeling?” he asked, as though we were alone, rather than surrounded by a dozen people.

“Better. I’m well.”

His hand tightened on mine. “Good. I’ve been worried about you. I’m glad you’re here. I wasn’t expecting you, or…do you have a seat?” He looked around seemingly lost.

“I do actually. Your speech was wonderful. I was really moved.”

“Thank you. I’m overwhelmed by the response.” He was speaking formally, but his eyes searched my face for some clue as to where we stood. “You look beautiful,” he said, his gaze dipping to take in my dress. “Red suits you.” He was nervous. It was sweet that he was as nervous as I. He was trying so hard to maintain his public façade, and I hurried to reassure him.

“This may not be the right time, but I was hoping we could talk at some point. I have some things to tell you. The first is that I’m sorry.”

This time I squeezed his hand. His eyes widened, and I could see the shock. He had not been expecting this.

“Secondly, I’ve missed you.”

His hand tightened.

There was a third thing. I wanted to tell him I loved him, but this was not the place. “There’s more, but I’ll save it. Maybe you could buy me a drink?”

His whole body relaxed. “Catherine.”

It was so good to hear him say my name, to see him look at me with those beautiful eyes. How had I survived one day without him? He put his arm around me, pressing me tightly to his side, and led me toward the bar. The crowd parted as we made our way through the ballroom. And then I saw her.

A tall blond turned toward us, stared in surprise, then spun and arrowed for William.

My heart thudded into my belly. It was another of William’s blonds. Another Lara Kendall. What backhanded insult would this one give me? Or…oh, God! What if she was his date? He spotted her too, and I slowed.

“William, if this is a bad time, we can talk tomorrow. I don’t want to cause problems. I can leave—”

“No!” His grip on me tightened so that it was almost painful. “I’m not ever letting you go again.”

“William,” the blond approached, still smiling. She held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Lauren, William’s cousin. And you must be Catherine.”

His cousin
. I laughed with relief. She was his cousin!

“Yes. How did you…?”

She waved a hand. “Oh, I’ve heard all about you. I’m thrilled I finally get to meet you.” She held a hand up conspiratorially. “I wasn’t sure you really existed. William, she has to meet the rest of the family. You don’t mind, do you? I know my parents are dying to meet you.”

“Um…” Meet his family? I glanced at William. He looked… resigned. “I’d love to.”

We followed Lauren to one of the front tables, where several people stood chatting. I recognized the older man and woman from the photograph in William’s closet.

“Mom, look who I have! Catherine Kelly,” Lauren gushed. “Catherine, these are my parents, Abigail and Charles Smith.”

As though in a dream, I shook their hands. “Nice to meet you.”

“And this,” Lauren continued, obviously the social director of the group, “is my sister Sarah, who’s in from D.C. Oh, and this is my husband Zach.”

“Catherine,” William’s aunt said, “I didn’t realize you would be here, or I would have seated you at our table.”

“It was a last-minute decision,” I said.

“It doesn’t look last minute,” Sarah commented. “I love your dress. William’s choice?”

“Sarah,” William chided. He’d barely spoken, and I could feel his impatience and energy. I could tell he wanted to be alone with me. I wanted that too. Desperately.

I laughed. “How did you know?”

“Oh, William always did have the best fashion sense of any of us,” Lauren said. “For a while there, we thought he might be gay.”

“And that would have been fine,” Abigail said. “We wanted him to be happy, to find someone he cared about.” She reached out and took my hand. “And now, he has!”

“And next you’re going to pull out the embarrassing childhood photos,” William remarked. “It might be a good time to excuse myself.” He stepped away, and from the corner of my eye I saw him approach a hotel exec, speaking quietly.

I continued the conversation with his family. I was thoroughly charmed—his outgoing cousins, his doting aunt, his indulgent uncle. It was clear William’s family loved him deeply, and they were very, very proud of him. It was such a different picture of him, such an intimate piece of him, when, previously I’d seen none.

William returned and tolerated a few teasing comments before saying, “I’m sorry to cut this short, but Catherine and I have to be somewhere.”

“Then we’ll get together again soon,” his aunt remarked.

“I’d love to. It was wonderful to meet you.”

As soon as I stepped away, William grabbed my hand.

“Come with me.”

Even if I’d wanted to refuse, I had no choice. He had my hand firmly grasped in his. We headed toward the elevators, waited with several people for one to arrive, and then stepped inside. We didn’t speak, didn’t look at one another, and I didn’t see which floor William pushed, but we were heading into the hotel. My pulse sped up, racing as I thought about being alone with him. My body thrummed at his nearness, and the way he stroked the inside of my wrist with his thumb made me very warm.

Finally, we reached the sixteenth floor and exited. William still held my hand, and we walked quickly down the hallway. We stopped, and he pulled a keycard from his pocket and opened the door to a suite. I stepped inside the lighted room, while William put the
Do Not Disturb
sign on the door. It clicked closed, and I heard the lock.

I turned, and William pulled me hard against him.

Nineteen

It felt good to be in his arms again. I couldn’t believe how much I’d missed him—his smell, his body, his mouth—definitely his mouth. It crushed mine with a searing kiss that left me breathless and weak in the knees. I kissed him back, tangling my tongue with his, nipping at his lips, sighing into his mouth. He groaned, a deep-throated sound that made my belly flutter. His hand on my back tightened, pulling me against him where I felt his hardness.

He was ready for me, and my body screamed for him. I didn’t realize the depth of my need for him until I was in his arms.

He pushed me against the door, his mouth hot and needy, his kisses deep and drugging. His mouth made everything inside of me go molten. I pushed wantonly against him, mewling my desire.

“I’ve missed the taste of you,” he said, his mouth delving to my ear to murmur in a low, husky whisper.

I’d missed the taste of him too—champagne and mint and something indefinably William Lambourne. It was erotic as hell. His hands slid down my back, and I pressed my aching breasts against his chest. Every part of me was heavy with need, and the demanding stroke of his hands made me crazy.

“Catherine, I can’t believe you’re actually here.” He nipped at my shoulder then soothed the delicious sting with his lips. “I was going insane without you. When I saw you standing at the back of the room in that red dress...” His hands tightened on my waist and cupped my bottom, pulling me harder against him. What I felt between us left no question as to his opinion of the dress.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and I heard the awe in his voice. Closing his eyes, he leaned his forehead against mine. “Catherine, I know you want to talk, and we can talk all night, if that’s what you want. If that’s what you need. But right now, I need to be inside you. I need to take you to bed and make love to you. Please tell me we can talk later.” His mouth was on mine again, his tongue sweeping inside, stroking me, filling me, showing me what he wanted to do with his body. “Let me take you to bed.”

“Yes,” I murmured.

In a moment, he swept me into his arms. I laughed, dizzy and charmed by his impatience and the romance of this impetuousness. He carried me across the suite, kicking the door of the bedroom open. He was breathing hard and his skin was hot. His stormy eyes raged with need, and I wanted nothing more than to feel that need stroking me, filling me, and bringing me to new heights of pleasure. The depth of his need for me thrilled me, and it frightened me as well. William had so much untamed passion. He was raw and wild and savage. The sweetness of his carrying me to bed meant more to me because of the restraint he showed. This wasn’t simply about him. William always thought of me first.

I’d had mere glimpses of the suite—images of soft light, sumptuous materials, and elegant décor. William set me down, and I looked around, getting my bearings. The bed was huge, covered with fluffed pillows. The duvet was thick and snowy white. The brocade divan and small mahogany table matched the antique armoire that probably housed the mini bar and the TV.

William watched me with those tempestuous, passion-filled eyes. The way he looked at me made me feel as though I were a rare jewel or artistic masterpiece, rather than plain Cat Kelly.

“Turn around,” he breathed.

With a nervous laugh, I turned, showing him my backside. I looked over my shoulder, gave a teasing look, and spun back. I had a feeling the plunging neckline was the real reason he’d bought me this dress, though the way the material hugged my curves was pretty sexy too.

“You like it?” I asked.

“You look stunning—better than I envisioned.” He crossed to me, and I tensed in anticipation. I wanted him. He said I looked stunning, but he was the one with the impossibly good looks. In his tuxedo, with his hair tousled and his eyes glittering with passion, he was every woman’s fantasy.

His nimble fingers found the zipper and slid it down with a cool hiss. Instead of tearing it off and ravishing me, William sat on the bed.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, uncertain.

He sat back, his eyes glistening with hunger and admiration. “Take the dress off, Catherine.” His voice was a low, sexy purr, and his gaze never left mine.

I looked down, turned aside slightly, and began to disrobe.

“Look at me,” he ordered. My gaze snapped to his face. His eyes burned with desire. He was hot for me, and I could tell that when I looked at him, I made him hotter. “Now, take off your dress.”

Caught in that searing gaze, my body throbbing with need, I allowed the dress to slide slowly off my shoulders over my body, until it pooled on the floor. William’s gaze darkened, and his breath hitched. I waited for him to tell me what to do next. Something about surrendering to his control aroused me even more. And he was beyond aroused. The tent of his erection in his trousers looked painful. He obviously had some fantasy about me in this dress, and I was going to fulfill it tonight. That excited me too—the thought of William fantasizing about me.

I stepped out of the dress and stood in my black lace bra, panties, garter, stockings, and high-heeled shoes. I could feel the sweep of my long hair on the bare skin of my back and imagined it was William’s fingertips.

“Take off your bra,” William said.

I reached to do his bidding.

“Slowly,” he stressed.

The bra had a front clasp, and I unfastened it, tugging it off inch by inch until my heavy breasts were freed. William hissed in an audible breath, and my nipples instantly peaked and hardened. Knowing the effect I was having, I allowed the silk and lace to fall to the floor, then cupped my tingling breasts and massaged them gently. William’s gaze was riveted to my every movement.

“That’s right,” he growled. “Your tits are beautiful—perfect.”

I ran my fingers across my erect nipples, feeling my body respond with zings of pleasure.

“Your nipples are so swollen,” William murmured. “I love how pink they are, how hard, and those desperate noises of pleasure you make when I feast on them. You’ll be making those sounds soon, Catherine.”

I rubbed my nipples, imagining it was his hands that touched me, his mouth.

“Are you wet for me, Catherine?”

I felt a wave of heat flush my cheeks, but I nodded.

“Let me see,” he said. “Take off your panties. Slowly.”

I did as I was told, sliding the scrap of lace over my hips, taking my time to unfasten and refasten the garter belt then allowing my damp panties to fall to the floor. I kicked them off and stood before him in only my garter belt, stockings, and heels. I was so wet, so hot. I could barely stop myself from reaching between my legs. He was fucking me with his eyes, and I knew the smallest pressure would make me come.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed.

He stood, shrugged off his tuxedo jacket, and loosened his tie. I wanted to touch him and leaned forward. “Stay right where you are,” he ordered. “Let me look at you.”

He took his time, removing his cuff links and setting them on the nightstand with two clicks. His gaze never left mine, sliding over my body, caressing it, making love to it. He opened the top three studs from his shirt, making a V at the neck. I watched as that tantalizing glimpse of his flesh was revealed. The ache deep in my belly grew, and I could feel dampness on the inside of my thighs. He rolled up his shirtsleeves, revealing corded forearms, then he stepped before me and fell to his knees. My sex was right in front of him, and he inhaled deeply, burying himself in me. “I love your scent,” he murmured against my sensitive flesh. I trembled with need. “I cannot wait to taste you, get you ready for me.”

My legs were shaky and wobbly. His nearness, the feel of his hot breath, made me mad with desire. I needed him to touch me, taste me.

He leaned forward with tortuous slowness, his hot breath making me sway. His tongue darted out, licking my cleft and making me shudder. He spread my folds, put his hand on my backside, and pulled me toward his hungry mouth. I was lost in sensation. He teased and licked, his tongue swirling until I panted. Then he pulled back, only to taste me again, sucking me. I jumped when his finger slid into me. “You’re so wet, Catherine.” His finger slid out, replaced by the fullness of two fingers. All the time his mouth worked me. “Does it feel good, Catherine?”

I could only moan my response.

“Do you like my mouth on you?”

I could barely speak, but I nodded. His fingers slid in and out, making me buck and press hard against his mouth. I needed to come. I’d never needed anything more. “Please, William. I can’t hold back.”

“Don’t worry. I have you. Just breathe.”

I snatched in short bursts of air as his hands and his mouth stroked and massaged and manipulated me to new heights of pleasure. I couldn’t take it anymore. I was going to explode. “Do you want to come, Catherine?”

“Yes,
yes
!”

“Come for me.”

I shattered completely, crying out. His mouth on my plumped bud sucked until it became an exquisite torture. Spasms rocked me and my walls gripped and stroked his fingers.

“Yes,” he murmured. “You’re so tight, Catherine. I can’t wait to feel you clamp down on my cock when I make you come again.”

I was shaking all over, the orgasm pulsing through me. My knees were weak, and my body would have crumpled if William hadn’t supported me. It was the most intense orgasm I’d ever had, and standing in only my garter, with William kneeling before me, one of the most erotic.

Finally, he looked at me and smiled. “Beautiful, Catherine. Perfect. Good girl.”

He took my hand and led me to the bed, pushed me down, then bent to remove my shoes. His hands unfastened my stockings, rolled them down, and then unhooked the garter. I was naked, lying before him, when he stood and began to undress.

My breathing hitched as he shed his shirt. I loved his body—the flat, rock-hard abs, the sculpted chest. He watched me watch him, dragging his trousers over his hips. My gaze followed the path down, over his V muscle, to his jutting manhood. It was large and hard for me. I wanted to take it in my mouth, lick its delicious dark red head. William leaned over me, his skin sliding against mine. He kissed me deeply, and I tasted myself on his lips and his tongue. His body rubbed mine as he took my mouth, and I sighed when he moved down my body, nuzzling my breasts and suckling my nipples.

I felt my need building again. I arched against him, wriggling impatiently. His hand caressed my body, moving between us until he cupped my sex.

“You’re wet for me again, aren’t you, Catherine?”

“Yes. I need you.”

“You’re plump and hot. Are you ready for me?”

“Yes. Please.”

He eased in slowly, when I wanted fast and hard. He must have felt my impatience, because he stilled my rising hips.

“I don’t want to hurt you, and you’re going to take all of me, Catherine. I’m going to fill you.” He opened me, sliding inside me, his swollen cock stretching me until I was impossibly full.

“In all the way,” he growled in my ear then pumped once. I moaned, and he kissed my neck, moving in a steady rhythm. “You feel so good. I can’t get enough of your tight body. I’m going to come so hard inside you.”

The pressure built as he took, his cock thrusting into me with unwavering control. “William,” I breathed.

“You fit me like a glove. I feel those little flutters. You’re getting ready to come again.” He moved, a slight adjustment, and I gripped the bed covers with my fingers, trying to hold on. He hit my g-spot, and the pleasure was blindingly intense. I couldn’t hold back. Ecstasy spiraled, consumed me, until a shattering orgasm ripped through me. I felt William reach his peak, felt him swell and explode, but he didn’t stop. He pumped, and I continued to come as the ripples went on and on, to extraordinary heights.

I’d never felt anything so powerful or so intense. I felt the sting of tears burn my eyes. I was moved, my emotions shattered, my core laid bare.

William was still inside me, his weight on me as he lay spent and exhausted. He raised his head, touched my wet cheeks, and his expression went from satisfied to concerned. “Oh, baby, why the tears? Did I hurt you? Was I too rough?” He ran a hand through his hair. “I lost control for a moment. You do things to me, Catherine, things that I can’t explain.”

I laughed through the tears that William wiped away with his thumb. He looked into my eyes, his expression tender. “I’m fine. I don’t know why I’m crying. It’s just… I feel… it’s so much…” I knew I loved him now. I wanted to tell him, but I was feeling too emotional.

William wrapped me in his arms, holding me, kissing me, shushing me. “I know. I feel it too. I’m right here and not going anywhere.”

It was what I needed to hear. I hadn’t known how much I needed to hear those words. And then his mouth captured mine, took my sobs with his lips, and turned them into sweet kisses. His hands were on my body, caressing me, worshipping me, delving between my legs to stroke my swollen folds and tender nub. I was beyond sated, but my body could not help but respond. Waves of pleasure built deep within my core, rising until I ached with need again. I felt him harden within me, that glorious member making me stretch and pulse. This time was slow and tender, as he moved with deliberate sweetness. I didn’t think it was possible to come again, but William’s gentleness slayed me. I came again—twice—then fell into a satisfied sleep, safe in William’s arms.

I woke, momentarily disoriented, and glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was after one, and I was alone in bed. Panic sliced through me, fear that William had left, that I had misunderstood or imagined our encounter. Then I heard the low rumble of a male voice in the living area of the suite.

I sat up, and my stomach rumbled. I was completely ravenous. I rose and stumbled to the bathroom. I splashed water on my face and glanced in the mirror. My skin was pink and flushed, my eyes a bright green. My hair was an absolute mess, but I looked and felt like a well-pleasured woman. I unhooked the robe from the back of the door, pulled it on, and tied it at my waist. I padded back to the bedroom, opened the door adjoining the living area, and walked in. I spotted William immediately.