Heart's Paradise (2 page)

Boom boom boom
went her out of control pulse keeping pace with the bass downstairs.

He waited, and she realized he wanted her to make the first move.

Phoebe couldn’t deny it—she wanted to touch him. Everywhere. She sipped the watered-down drink in her hand, hoping to get some kind of liquid fortification. The vodka taste slammed into her tastebuds and she stifled a gag. She glanced around, finding a shelf to set it on. Afterward, she rubbed her hands together.

Jonathon’s sizzling gaze invited wicked thoughts that involved a lot of nudity. “Come here, angel,” he said, a gravelly whisper which tugged her forward several steps.

This was a Cybil moment—alone in a room with some hunky guy she’d only just met, ready to do the deed while not far away a party blared.
But oh God, look at him!
And best of all he hadn’t once brought up her famous mother, perhaps he didn’t even know who she was. Though the niggling fear she was some conquest tugged the back of her brain. What better bragging rights than scoring with the daughter of Cybil Heart? A woman who’d worn on stage a pair of leather chaps over a g-string.

“Do you know who I am?” she blurted out, needing to know for sure. She watched his face closely for some deception—another excuse to flee from this irresistible man.

Confusion clouded his perfect face. He cocked his head sideways. “You’re an angel who has blessed my last dull days of college exams,” he replied, slick as silk.

Smooth words.
Phoebe had spent a lifetime proving she wasn’t anything like her mother, yet in that moment she wanted to be exactly as brazen as Cybil. She wanted to gobble up his lines like he hadn’t passed them off to dozens of other women to get his way. Pretend she’d done this exact same thing time and again without a second thought or backward glance.

Her feet carried her closer to the bed, alcohol loosening at least a bit of her stodgy resolve to resist temptation.
Alcohol...yeah, right.
If truth be known, she’d suffered the biggest rejection of her life recently. The whole reason she’d thrown caution to the wind and attended her first frat party. A part of her had been broken, and she’d wanted some way to patch the fragile spot back together. At twenty-one she’d lived a lifetime already beneath the shadow of Cybil. She’d risked reaching out to the other half of herself, a stranger she’d longed to know forever, and the wound in her heart from that effort still ached.

Phoebe stopped in front of her suitor and stared down at him. Jonathon’s easy confidence, his knowing of what would follow between them left her a nervous wreck.
Might as well give him fair warning…

“I should tell you first…” She swallowed over the lump in her throat, her mind warning her not to divulge her secret shame. “I’m a virgin,” she finally blurted out.

His gray eyes widened a bit.
A virgin at her age?
she could almost hear his mind question.
What’s wrong with her?
And she waited to hear those words. But he didn’t laugh, or give her a look of total disbelief.

“Are you sure you want to be in here with me then?” he asked in a near whisper. Blatant lust faded in his gaze, replaced by a kindness she hadn’t anticipated. Especially from a man who looked to have had several beers down him, he was obviously on his way to being properly drunk.

Why did the gentle look on his face make her want to cry? Her vision blurred, and her throat ached as emotion overwhelmed her. She blinked rapidly and spun away from him, swiping her palms over her face. They came away with some of the makeup she’d layered on to hide beneath.

He was behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Did I do something to upset you?”

She shook her head, embarrassed by her minor breakdown. She wished he would’ve been an ass to her, given her fuel to use to strike out at him. Wasn’t that why she was there? To lash out against life in general? Throw herself into the moment, damned the consequences? “No, I’m stressed about classes. Finals,” she lied.

“Come here.” He spun her around, and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. “My mom always said a good hug can fix anything.”

Phoebe buried her face in the front of his shirt, inhaling the clean scent of laundry detergent and aftershave. It was wonderful, comforting, and she indulged in the physical affection for as long as she dared. He stroked a hand over her back in small circles.

A total stranger seemed to care more for her than her own estranged father had when she’d finally found the courage to meet him a few weeks before. She gripped Jonathon’s shirt, battling her tears, determined not to let them get the best of her. Crying for someone who had never bothered to seek her out was wasted time.

Tonight was her night to forget the bastard, and determination steeled her spine. She reached up, grabbing Jonathon’s head, and pulled his mouth to hers. His resistance lasted half a heartbeat before he returned the kiss. His lips parted hers, his tongue drawing hers into a sweet mating dance. Heat swelled, leaving her dizzy and clutching his shirt. He grabbed her hips, pulling her close, his erection pressed into her stomach. She’d kissed guys in the past, but never had it felt so intense. So erotic. She wanted to be consumed by him.

Then he broke the kiss, cupped her cheek, and stroked his thumb over her bottom lip. She forced her eyes open and stared into his face. If he rejected her, made her leave, God knew it would be salt to her wounds.

“Phoebe,” he said on a ragged breath. “I… We… I’m not sure if this is right.”

She moved her hands over his chest, exploring his nicely defined pecs, before resting a hand over his pounding heart which echoed her own. She met him squarely in the eyes. “At twenty-one I think I know my mind, Jonathon.”

His hand drifted down to rest on her shoulder, his other on her hip. “But why now, tonight? With me?”

“Because…”
I’m not Cybil, that’s why I’ve waited. I wanted my first time to be something more than recreational fucking. Because I’m hurting, and you can soothe the ache. Because, because, because…
“I’ve never in my life simply lived in the moment. Enjoyed things on a visceral level, because I always have to analyze my decisions to death. So I’m here, with you, because I want to have an experience. Something I can look back on, smile, and think ‘I can’t believe I did that’. Isn’t that reason enough?”

His molten eyes looked deep inside her, and she felt sure he could see every little insecurity she tried so hard to repress.

“Damn alcohol. I should be a stronger man.” He blew out a breath. “Come here, angel.” He pulled her lips to his again.

The kiss ignited fireworks inside her once more, putting to shame the one preceding it. His mouth was confident, his lips firm as his tongue slipped between her teeth. She tasted mint and hops, and sucked his tongue. He groaned, tangling his fingers in her hair, pulling her to the bed then down on top of him. His lean body was hard beneath her as she straddled his hips, feeling the length of his erection between her thighs. She wanted more,
needed
more as she melted into his arms.

It seemed like a dream as he removed her clothes. First her shirt landed on the floor, followed by her pants. Her bra ended up dangling over the bedside lamp, and she didn’t care what happened to her panties once he’d tugged them down her legs. Jonathon looked her over, studying every inch of her physique, and to Phoebe’s surprise she didn’t feel the least amount of shame. Not with the way his worshipful gaze came to rest on her face.

“I’m the luckiest man on Earth right now.” He lowered down and his lips brushed the top of her breast. “I’m not sure if I deserve you, angel. I can only hope I don’t disappoint.”

She moaned as the tip of his tongue traced around her areola. His teeth caught her nipple and she arched her back, clawing her fingers through his hair. He suckled until it tightened into a painful peak, before he lavished the other with the same attention. His hand slipped down, wedging between her thighs. She opened to him in a wordless plea, and his finger slipped within her wet lips.

“Oh God.” She writhed as a second finger joined his first. “Please, please, please…” He centered his attention over her throbbing clit. “I want you so much.”

He lifted from her nipple, his eyes heavy-lidded, his smile charged with wicked lust. He pressed a finger inside her walls. She squeezed around his digit, gripping him tight as he worked in and out of her.

“I’m going to taste you now,” he said.

If he did, Phoebe knew she’d shatter. She grabbed at his shirt, wanting to see his naked flesh. He pulled away, turned to face her knees and grasped them, opening her wide.

“Damn.” The word passed as a mere breath from his lips.

He lowered down and took her with his mouth. The position seemed awkward, sort of like a one-sided sixty-nine, but God did his tongue feel like heaven. Her eyes rolled back, and all Phoebe could do was swim in sensation as she gripped the blanket.

She’d never gotten past second base with a guy, and suddenly she understood why Cybil would write a song about what they were doing. His firm, wet tongue slid within her labia, lapping and licking, slipping and sliding, until her head spun and she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs. She whimpered, wanting to squirm away from the delirious pleasure. The sloppy sounds of his mouth filled her ears, while far off in the distance a girl was giggling hysterically in the hallway.

She opened wider to Jonathon as his lips pressed over her clit. He circled his head, wrenching sharp cries from her throat. He balanced a knee on the bed near her head, and she ran her hand over the curve of his ass, desperate to touch him. The muscles clenched, and he moaned as she dared slip her hand between his legs to find the bulge of his cock. She traced its long outline, exploring its size and girth through his clothing. Jonathon sucked her clit between his lips, sending a shockwave through her that tightened into a pinnacle.

A scream burst from her chest as the orgasm seized her. She sucked down gulps of air as Jonathon moved away. She watched him, feeling drugged, as he tugged his shirt over his head, kicked off his shoes and socks, then shoved his pants down his hips. The last to follow was his boxers, and he was standing next to her in all of his glory. He was broad shouldered with lean, cut muscle. Smooth chest, ripped abs, and she followed the trail of hair beneath his bellybutton all the way down…

She inhaled sharply. His cock looked delicious, and she reached for him, wrapping her fingers around his girth. She tugged him forward and took him into her mouth. He tasted salty, but not unpleasant as she stretched her lips around him. He cupped the back of her head, muttering nonsensical things as she moved up and down his shaft. She’d never given a man head before, but instinct guided her well enough she felt his legs tremble. Which gave her courage and she sucked harder, moved faster…

Jonathon placed his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her back. “You’re going to make me come, angel.” He yanked open the top drawer of the nightstand. “God, I hope Liam isn’t the prude he passes himself off to be.” He withdrew a condom foil. “I have to remember to thank him for this.”

She lost herself to the lust in his gaze as he rolled the latex down his shaft and rejoined her on the bed. He parted her thighs with his hips, and the tip of his cock pressed inside her tight walls. She felt a stinging pressure that mounted as he entered her. He stopped when she tensed and sucked air through her teeth.

“Are you okay?” he asked near her ear.

She nodded, and he kissed her gently on the lips as he took shallow thrusts, stretching her body. Discomfort quickly heightened to pleasure and when she moaned, he deepened the movement, taking her harder until the bed rattled beneath them. She climbed desire higher and higher, meeting him thrust for thrust, saying his name over and over. He reached between them and brushed his fingertips over her clit. That was all it took. Stars burst within her, and she laughed with disbelief when the second climax hit.

He shuddered, growling out her name. He remained on top of her, braced on his elbows. He dropped a kiss to her nose. “Phoebe.” He said her name as if savoring something luscious. “I believe I’ll always carry your name in my heart.”

And slowly he withdrew from her, leaving behind wetness where he’d been. She stretched her legs, wincing with the new tenderness.

He moved next to her, his arm draped over her middle, and nuzzled her ear. “I hope to see you again when I’m sober,” he said. “I’ll be a much better lover I think.” He yawned. “More attentive. Promise me you’ll be here when I wake up in the morning.”

She didn’t answer, and shortly after Jonathon rolled onto his back and fell asleep. The magic evaporated. The borrowed room glared back at her in judgment, making her feel guilty for using someone’s bed without their permission. It felt tacky, wrong. In the back of her mind Cybil clapped her hands in delight her daughter shared her wild streak. Which made Phoebe feel ten times worse.

It was time to go. When she sat up and swung her legs off the bed, she spotted something lying on the blankets that made her heart stall. A tiny little bit of off-white which brought with it the cold shock of fear.

“Oh God no,” she whispered, leaning closer. She snatched a tissue from the tissue box on the nightstand, and picked up the item. “No, no, no.”

The condom they’d used had split open and slipped off at some point, and what was left of the useless prophylactic dangled from the tissue.

Chapter 1

“I think it’ll be bloody brilliant!”

Shawna stared at her cohort. Of course Mark would think his idea brilliant. He believed that about
all
of his suggestions.
Then again, he may be on to something.
She tapped her finger on the bench top. Above them a bird quarreled, not appreciating the two interlopers beneath its tree.

“How would we make it work?” she asked, needing to pick through his brain before agreeing to this new scheme.

Mark lifted his shoulder. “How do we make anything work, love? By flirtation and force of will if need be. I think our investors will jump at a show involving some spoiled, rich playboy stranded on a desolate island with only his wits to save him. Just picture it, the ratings will be through the roof.”