Aphrodite's Secret (33 page)

He pulled away, bestowing kisses up her body, pausing when he reached the indentation at her collarbone. She gripped his shoulders, tight, as if fighting a storm that was building inside.

“I’ve always loved you,” he whispered, as his fingers caressed her back.

Her hands tightened on his shoulders. “I know,” she said, her voice barely audible. “And I do love you.”

Jason’s heart skipped a beat. He loved her. He loved Davy. And she loved him. It was the perfect recipe for a family—except it had already failed once before.

Once again he cursed his father, a wave of regret for everything Hieronymous had stolen from him washing over him. But then he let it go. He slipped his hand down, his fingers tracing under the waistband of Lane’s shorts. Her breath hitched, but he didn’t slow his assault.

The tips of his fingers stroked the soft skin of her lower belly, brushing lower and lower under her swimsuit bottom until he found the coarse hair there and damp curls. Lane gasped, her head thrown back and her pulse beating wildly in her neck. Jason kissed her throat even as his fingers stroked her, seeking the heat at her core.

She moaned, the erotic noise making him as hard as he’d ever been.

His fingers found her soft folds, and he teased her, rolling the hard nub of her sex between his thumb and forefinger, delighting in the way she writhed against his touch. She murmured his name, and his body pulsed with the need to satisfy her completely, to make Lane his once again.

He could never get the lost years back, but, right now, Lane was his. And, dammit, he didn’t intend to lose her again.

* * *

Lane squirmed, needing Jason’s touch, wanting to feel him inside her, wanting him to hold her close and murmur soft words.

She wanted everything to be back the way it once was, so very long ago.

His fingers slid over her, and she moved shamelessly, trying to make him touch her just so. She wanted to lose herself—to both passion and to Jason. Her body was afire with lust and desperate need, and she’d beg if she had to.

“Jason,” she whispered. “
Please
.”

He met her eyes. “Tell me what you want.”

“You,” she said.

“For now, or for always?”

Her heart twisted. “For always,” she admitted. “I’ve always wanted you for always. But—”

He pressed a finger to her lips. “No. Don’t say anything. Right now, I just want the good stuff.”

She laughed, then caught him around the neck and pulled him close. “Well, then, how’s this for good stuff? Make love to me. Make love to me now, or I swear I’ll scream.”

He hooked his arms under her legs and lifted her, then carried her to the patio.

He moved closer to the railing and she frowned, fearful that she knew what was coming. “Jason?” she asked.

“Trust me,” he whispered, putting her on her feet before him.

She opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again. Drawing in a deep breath, she nodded. She
would
trust him. She
did
trust him.

With slow, methodical movements, he peeled off his clothes, revealing a tiny black bathing suit that left nothing to the imagination. Certainly not how much he wanted her.

She licked her lips, reluctantly dragging her gaze upward to meet his.

He flashed a knowing grin. “Your turn,” he said.

“I... I can’t swim.”

He took a step closer, his fingers plucking at the elastic waistband of her shorts. “I’m not asking you to.”

With a firm tug, he slid the shorts over her hips and down her legs, dropping them to pool around her ankles. Without a word, he took her hand, urging her to step out of them, then led her to the ladder that descended to the water.

He went first, one step at a time down, with her two steps above him. She could feel his breath at the small of her back, the sensation making her body tingle.

At the last step, water splashed her midthigh. With a gentle hand around her waist, Jason plucked her from the ladder, turning her to face him as he treaded water. They bobbed together, legs intertwined, the cool ocean sweet relief from the burning in her blood.

Together, they moved to a buoy, and he gently placed her hands upon it. “I’ll be back,” he said, disappearing below the surface before she could ask what he meant.

Despite the lights from the boat, she couldn’t see into the night-black water. But she could feel. And as the water gently lapped against her shoulders, Jason’s mouth caressed her stomach, his lips hot against her skin. A warm, delicious sensation filled her, and she leaned back, half-floating in the water as Jason worked his magic under the surface.

He slipped his fingers under her bikini bottom, urging it off, and Lane shivered from the sudden rush of cool water against her naked skin. Jason’s hand skimmed down to cup her sex, his fingers teasing. Every caress offered the promise of something more, but never quite delivered, and Lane’s body trembled with anticipation.

Under the water, Jason’s tongue skimmed over her belly, lower and lower, as if he were tasting her and couldn’t quite get enough. His hands grasped the insides of her thighs; the tips of his thumbs teased flesh more intimate. She squirmed, silently urging him to slide inside her and quench the fire that the water all around couldn’t touch.

His hands moved away, and Lane groaned, then moaned in surprised satisfaction when his mouth closed over her, kissing her intimately, his tongue laving her in deep, rhythmic strokes. They built and built inside her until she was certain her body couldn’t withstand the force.

With one hand still holding on to the buoy, she slid her other into the water. She buried her fingers in Jason’s hair and arched her back, pressing closer. She was on the edge, desperate to tumble headlong into passion, and she writhed shamelessly against him, seeking release.

He pulled away, leaving her hot and tingly. She moaned in protest, urging him up from under the water, a plea on her lips. “Jason, please, don’t stop.”

Water cascaded off him, the droplets glistening in the marina lights. “I don’t intend to stop,” he said. He slipped her bathing suit over the buoy; then he put his own over it as well. He kissed her, catching her in a tight embrace, his erection pressed hard between her thighs.

“Do you still trust me?” he asked.

She nodded, unable to think about anything except having him inside her.

“Let go of the buoy . ..”

She barely had time to comply before he held tight to her hips and pulled her down, impaling her. She gasped, her sex enveloping him, drawing him in.

The water supported them as they moved together. She held tight, wanting him to never stop, wanting to never lose this closeness.

“Lane,” he whispered her name, murmuring it over and over as he cupped her behind, pushing against her as he sank deep inside her. Her body burned against his, alive and on fire. She wanted to forget their past and her fears and lose herself in the power of his touch. .. .

Over and over, she thrust against him, as if by joining their bodies, they could somehow rejoin their lives. A slow, delicious pressure built in Lane’s muscles, a physical anticipation, a craving, pleasurable in and of itself, but holding the promise of so much more.

She held her breath and closed her eyes, her body meeting his as she struggled to find release. And, just as the stars exploded in her veins, she felt his body tense and quake—and she knew he’d found release, too.

She pressed her legs tight around his waist, rocking with him as wave after wave of pleasure rippled through her. As the last tremors of passion took their course, Lane clutched Jason’s shoulders, her fingers pressing into his skin.

“You know I love you,” he whispered again. His body slid on hers, warm and possessive.

“I know you do,” she said.

Snuggling close, she sighed, feeling sad and happy all at the same time. He loved her, yes.

Once upon a time, that hadn’t been enough. But this time he’d promised he’d stay. Her heart twisted a little and she said a silent plea that, this time, he meant it. She wasn’t making another huge mistake. This time, love really would win.

Hieronymous whipped the black cloth off, revealing a rather unpleasant-looking contraption with a metallic helmet strapped to dozens of copper-colored wires. The wires led to a perfectly formed glass sphere filled with some sort of glowing gas.

“Here,” he said, pointing to the sphere. “This is where I shall collect it.” He tapped the helmet with the tip of one long finger, then traced along the wiring. “From the boy, to the wires, and, ultimately, to me.”

His smile caused Mordi’s blood to run cold. “Perfect,” he said. His lips curved into a frown. “Or it would be.”

“The boy,” Clyde said. “Allow
me
to retrieve him, sire.”

“No.” Hieronymous moved to his desk, then sat behind it, his fingers drumming on its solid surface. “You are still wanted by the Council. Should you be caught, the consequences would be dire.” Hieronymous paused, glancing casually at the monitors lining the wall. “And I still have need of you, so it would be most inconvenient if you were captured.”

Mordi shifted, having a feeling he knew what was coming.

“Mordichai,” his father said, with a nod toward him. “The child must be acquired and brought here before midnight. You understand the consequences should you fail?”

Mordi swallowed and stepped forward. “Yes, Father.” And he did. He understood what would happen if he failed ... and he knew what would happen if he succeeded.

Part of him wanted to leave this island, head to Olympus, and never look back. Another part of him wanted to please his father. To take up the reins of an empire.

He knew what he
should
do. What he
would
do, however, remained a question.

Lane laughed as Davy poked and prodded at the insides of the television. Behind him, Elmer chattered peevishly.

“You better hurry,” Lane said, “or Elmer won’t be speaking to you anymore.”

Davy just rolled his eyes. “Oh, Mo-om,” he said, drawing out the word. “I’ll get it back together.” A few more twists of wire and a bit more clanking, and he did exactly that. With a flourish, her show-off son put the casing back on. “See?” he said. “All done.”

Lane tried to keep her face serious. “And just what does it do?”

“Shows tomorrow’s television,” Davy said. “So you won’t miss your program.”

At that, Lane laughed outright, even as Elmer chittered louder and started bouncing up and down.

“But sweetie,” she said, “Elmer’s show is coming on
tonight
.”

“Mrs. Dolittle” was set to begin in five minutes.

“Oh.” Davy picked up his screwdriver. “I’ll just take it apart again.”

“No, no, no.” Lane plucked the screwdriver from his hand. “Elmer can watch the television in Jason’s room.” She turned to Zoë. “Would you mind taking him up?”

Zoë‘s head appeared. She was on the couch, holding hands with her husband.

“Oh,” Lane said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“What were you going to tell me?” Taylor said.

Zoë kissed his cheek. “Later,” she said. She stood up. “Come on, Elmer. Let’s go see what I’m sure will be your Emmy award-winning performance.”

Elmer skittered toward the stairs and Zoë followed. Taylor got up, shook his head, and excused himself to the kitchen.

Lane scowled, feeling like she was missing something. For a second she thought about going after Zoë, but a knock at the door changed her mind.

When Davy got up to answer, she put a hand on his shoulder, halting him. “You can get the door after your birthday, sweetie. Until then, stay behind me.”

She peered through the peephole.
Aaron
. She drew in a breath. She needed to talk to him, but that didn’t mean she wanted to. She let him in, and he immediately bent down and gave Davy a hug.

“Hey, big guy. How you doing?”

“I’m good,” Davy said. “I made a future TV.”

“Vivid imagination,” Lane said.

Davy tilted his head up. “Can I go play with Jason?”

She looked at Aaron, noting the man’s flash of disappointment. But after a second she nodded. “Sure, sweetie. Go ahead.”

“I guess I don’t rank anymore,” Aaron said after Davy had disappeared.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just—”

“Want him to get to know his father. Of course you do.” A sad smile touched Aaron’s lips. “It seems like he really likes the guy.”

Lane nodded. “Yeah. I think he really does.”

Aaron’s features hardened. “I take it he’s not the only one.”

“I...” Lane started to protest, but she couldn’t find the words. He was right. She drew in a deep breath, searching for courage. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

Aaron opened his mouth, and for a second she thought he was going to lash out. But then he took a deep breath and nodded, his eyes infinitely sad. “Believe me, I know that.” He shook his head. “And I never wanted to be second best. We both deserve better than that.” He reached into his briefcase and handed her a large envelope.

“What’s this?”

“Class notes,” he said. “I swung by UCLA and tracked down your study group.” He brushed her cheek with his thumb. “If you ever decide the district attorney’s office isn’t the place for you, give me a call.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, hoping he understood that she meant for more than just the notes. “I hope ...”

“What?”

“Everything,” she finally said. “I hope you get everything you want. And I hope you find who you want.”

“Have you?” he asked, giving her one last look.

“Yes,” she answered. The word came to her lips without hesitation. Jason was everything she’d ever desired, everything she’d wanted in a man, a husband, and a father to her child. She’d told herself otherwise, but it had all been just self-protection. Now, she had to believe in him. She had to pray he wouldn’t disappoint her again.

“I’m glad,” Aaron said, pausing at the door. He squeezed her hand. “Good-bye, Lane.”

She watched him go until he stepped from the dock to the parking lot and disappeared into his car. She clutched the knob of the door, hoping she was doing the right thing. But as much as doubt gnawed at her, she knew that, in the end, this was best. She didn’t love Aaron, and she did love Jason. She loved him with all her heart, and she needed to trust him. It was scary, yes, but he’d promised to put Davy and her first, and she believed him.