JustOneTaste (8 page)

Relief flooded him when she nodded. “That would be lovely,
thank you.”

David smiled around gritted teeth.
Lovely.
She was a
lady through and through, one who deserved so much more than a rough grope
amongst the vines. David only hoped he could entrap his baser instincts for
long enough to behave like a gentleman and not the callous bastard she was
determined to think he was.

* * * * *

An hour and a half later, Sarah’s body was still prone to
fits of lascivious trembling at the memory of that kiss. It simmered in the air
between her and David as they sat at his four-seater dining table, sharing a bottle
of excellent red and plates of tasty stew with mashed potato on the side. She
may have initially managed to convince herself she’d come here for professional
reasons but somewhere along the way she’d ended up on a bona fide date—the best
darned date she’d been on in…forever.

They talked about everything from wine to world politics,
their conversation interspersed with quiet laughter and sizzling glances that
kept electricity crackling in the otherwise cozy atmosphere, as noticeable as
the flames flickering in the fireplace. The dogs sat curled together in the
corner of the room, where they’d settled sometime after David had asked Sarah
to keep watch on the pot of stew in the kitchen so he could take a hasty
shower.

He’d smiled before he’d gone, saying, “Feel free to snoop
through my bookcases while I’m away.”

Sarah had done exactly that, trying her best not to think
about David in the shower naked. She found a lot of historical fiction
alongside thick texts on viticulture and the occasional biography. His movie
collection was dominated by black-and-white classics starring Humphrey Bogart
and Grace Kelly and, yes, Buster Keaton. Sarah had smiled at that. She’d still
been smiling when David emerged from the bathroom wearing fresh jeans and a
thick, olive-green sweater that she wanted nothing better than to burrow into.

The urge still hadn’t passed by the time Sarah pushed aside
her empty plate with a contented sigh. “I have to say, that was some of the
best
osso buco
I’ve ever eaten.”

“Thanks, but the praise belongs to Kerri,” David explained.
“She drops off a batch of something or other at least a couple times a week.”

Sarah pursed her lips. “She’s good to you, that Kerri.”

“She takes pity on me. When I fend for myself the menu
usually consists of beans on toast.”

Sarah glanced at the view beyond the colonial-style window,
darkness now laying its blanket over the vineyards. The only light visible was
that cast by the moon and stars. “No takeout around here, I suppose.”

“
Takeaway
joints are pretty much nonexistent.”

Turning back to face him, Sarah narrowed her eyes. “I’m from
New York. There we call it takeout.”

“Ah, but you’re in Australia now, love. You’ve gotta learn
to talk like one of us.”

Although his tone suggested he was merely teasing, Sarah
couldn’t stop the heat from infusing her face at his offhand use of the
endearment. She took a sip of her wine to conceal the teenage-like reaction.

She glanced over the rim of her glass to find David smiling
at her, a sexy, self-assured grin that only ratcheted her temperature higher.
“What?”

“You have a thing for my accent.”

Sarah scoffed but her cheeks flamed hotter. “I do not.”

“And you’re jealous of Kerri.” He released a sigh and
reached for her hand where it lay on the table. “What am I going to do about
you?”

“Do you really expect me to answer that?”

Excitement flashed in eyes that drifted over her face,
settling for a lingering beat on her lips. “The thing is I like you, Sarah
Harrington.”

The hushed way he uttered the words made Sarah’s heart skip
with a mixture of exhilaration and panic. Attraction she understood. Sex she
could handle. Somewhere between stirring the stew in David’s kitchen and being
instructed on the many and varied Australian football codes, she’d acknowledged
to herself that she wanted David to take her to bed. But the way he said “like”
didn’t sound like a line, a prelude to a sexual encounter.

It sounded as if he really meant it. And that was the
scariest prospect of all.

He wants you, Sarah, that’s what matters.
He’d
enjoyed having her take the lead role the last time they were together. With a
slow smile Sarah extracted her hand from David’s and slipped it under the
table. She traced her fingernails over his denim-clad thigh. “I like you too,
David.”

Beneath her hand his muscles bunched. With a groan, David
encircled her wrist, stilling her caress and instead twining her fingers with
his once more. “I’m trying to be a gentleman here.”

“You mean it wasn’t your plan all along to lure me into your
house, ply me with alcohol and seduce me?”

David’s expression sobered. “You seem to have trouble
believing this but I’ve never operated on any kind of plan where you’re
concerned.”

Was it really possible David Genero was exactly what he
appeared to be—a genuine, honest character with no hidden agenda? It was such a
rarity in Sarah’s world that it was difficult to trust the instinct that was
telling her to believe it was true, that David was who he said he was. That all
he wanted from her was…

His perusal skimmed over her again, the interest in it conveying
exactly what he did want, what that kiss out in his shop had told her he
wanted. Sarah’s blood rushed once more, causing her skin to flush hot with
excitement.

Lust had never gripped her so tightly, caused this sense
urgency while still allowing room for patience, the slow exchange of man-woman
banter that led to what was feeling more and more like a foregone conclusion.

“If I owe you another apology, I’ll gladly give it,” Sarah
said. “I’m sorry I keep misjudging you.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” Pushing aside his empty plate,
David leaned forward and regarded her steadily. “But there is one thing I’d
like to know.”

“Shoot.”

He paused, warning Sarah that his question would be a thorny
one. “When you realized I wasn’t what you expected, did you try again?”

Chapter Nine

Heat prickled her neck as his meaning sank in. He wanted to
know if she’d gone and hired another escort, as if the experience she’d had
that night with him could be so easily duplicated. Sarah took a moment to frame
her answer, afraid the truth would give away too much yet also unwilling to
hurt David with a response designed to keep her safe. “No, you weren’t what I
expected, but trying again would have been pointless.”

He canted his head. “Because you already had your
needs
attended to
?”

“No, because whoever I hired wouldn’t have been you.”

The fire was too far away for it to be anything other than
illusion but Sarah could have sworn she saw its reflection blazing in David’s
dark irises. Hot tension crackled like the snap and lick of flame as he stared
at her, the drawn-out look making Sarah’s heart pound. He’d never released her
hand and he used it to tug her slowly toward him. “So what you’re saying is,”
he began, his gaze dropping from her eyes to her mouth and back up again, “that
our night together was special?”

He didn’t wait for an answer before capturing her mouth with
his, using his free hand to cup her cheek so he could tilt her head just so,
making them fit together like a key fit a lock. Perfect.
Special.
Sarah
was glad he hadn’t forced her to respond verbally to his challenge because
denying it would have been a lie and admitting to it too frightening to deal
with. All she wanted right now was to feel David’s lips on hers, know once more
the heady taste of him and the particular warmth that emanated from his sturdy
body.

With a whimper she reached out and clutched at his chest,
her fingers curling in the thick wool of his sweater as she leaned forward, her
butt almost lifting off the chair in her need to be closer. She craved the
sensation of having his arms wrapped around her, longed to curl up on his lap
and purr.

Evidently intuiting her desires, David pulled her forward
until she was standing, and then sitting in his lap. They managed the maneuver
without ever breaking their lip-lock, and when she was settled against his
chest David deepened the kiss, turned it to something hungry and impatient.

When his hand came up to gently cup her breast through her
blouse, Sarah moaned and arched, showing him her eagerness. David reacted by
tearing his mouth from hers and muttering a curse. “I’m not supposed to be
doing this.”

Sarah covered his hand with hers, urging him to keep up the
kneading motion that was making her breast tingle with life. “I think this is
exactly what we should be doing.”

His thumb brushed over the taut tip of her breast and he
groaned. “I can be a gentleman, you know.”

Sarah half smiled, half gasped as he traced a lazy circle
around her nipple with his thumb. “I know.”

“We’re not going to sleep together tonight, Sarah.”

Sometime during his gruffly issued statement, two of her
blouse buttons had popped open. The contradiction between his words and actions
put a dubious note in Sarah’s voice. “Sure, okay.”

“I mean it.”

Merely smiling, Sarah pressed her lips to his temple. “Take
off my blouse, David.”

The row of buttons was nearly released anyway. The last few
slipped free of their holes easily with the merest brush of David’s fingers. He
stared at the parted fabric, not touching any of the skin revealed. When he
lifted his gaze to hers it was tortured. “Do you always wear such pretty
underwear?”

“I like lace.”

“God, so do I.”

With a shrug, Sarah shifted the blouse until it drifted down
her arms. “It’s cold tonight. Keep me warm, will you?”

He caught the blouse before it fell to the floor, keeping it
wrapped around her wrists so her hands were effectively trapped behind her
back. David let his appraisal rove over her, his stare so hot Sarah noticed
none of the evening’s chill anyway. She knew he could see how distended her
nipples were through the gauzy white lace of her bra, and as he looked they
tightened further, the tingling in them turning to an ache. Wetness gathered in
her panties and she shifted on his lap, the action causing her outer thigh to
rub the solid ridge behind David’s fly.

Sarah moaned. “David.”

He traced a finger lightly over the edge of her bra. His
voice was a thick husk. “I’m not going to take advantage of a woman who’s had
too much to drink.”

“I’m not drunk.”

It might have been a lie because her head was swimming, the
room out of focus. She was aware only of the thrill of David’s attention on her
lace-covered breasts and the fanning of his breath across her skin. Until he
lifted his free hand, taking her nipple between thumb and forefinger and ever so
lightly pinching. Then her focus narrowed even further, until that one spot
became the center of her entire universe.

Her pussy clenched with need and she rocked on his lap. His
tense groan gave away his response to her actions. “You’d be over the legal limit.”

Sarah had known she was pushing that boundary when she
accepted the last glass of Merlot. She’d known and accepted anyway, secretly
hoping this very thing would happen. “I would be.”

David continued to stroke his thumb over her nipple through
the bra, back and forth, back and forth, in a hypnotic cadence. “I can’t let
you drive back to the city on these dark country roads. It wouldn’t be safe.”

“It wouldn’t do. Not gentlemanly at all.”

“Neither is this.” With a deft tug, David pushed aside her
bra cup until her aching nipple spilled out. He ate up the sight of her bared
flesh, muttering soft curse words as he lifted and squeezed her. “We’re not
going to have sex. We’re not going to.”

“If you say so.”

“But I have to taste you, lady.” He bent his head to her and
whispered, “Just once.”

His lips were hot, so hot and wet as they enclosed her needy
flesh. Sarah arched immediately, offering herself to his tender, insistent
sucking. His tongue was a hot lash against her, stroking and rolling as his
lips drew her in and applied pressure that made everything inside her stretch
tight. Sarah writhed in his lap and fought with her blouse, which was now
tangled around her wrists. She wanted to touch him. Had to hold him against her
so he would never, ever stop what he was doing.

Sarah finally managed to disentangle herself from her shirt.
She tossed it to the floor, then pushed her now-free hands into David’s thick
hair, tilting his head so she could kiss a path along his jawbone.

David’s fingers dug into her waist, stilling the reflexive
rocking of her hips. “That’s it. Bedtime.”

She sighed with relief when David stood, lifting her against
him and striding through the living room like a man in a hurry.

Good
, Sarah thought. She wanted him out of control.
She needed him to take her hard and fast—to fuck her so thoroughly she forgot
everything but the sensation of him inside her.

Just like last time.

The room he took her to was dark, colder than the living
room because the warmth from the fire didn’t reach it. David turned on a nearby
lamp, its stained-glass shade casting geometric light patterns on the
white-painted walls, illuminating a bedroom sparsely furnished with simple
timber pieces. He stalked to the double bed, pulled back the patchwork quilt
and laid Sarah upon the mattress. The sheets were cool at her back but David
was warm and Sarah clung to him. He stared down at her, saw her bra still
askew, her breasts heaving, and closed his eyes tight as though the sight
pained him.

Suddenly he stood and ripped off his sweater, tossing it to
her. “Here, put this on before I lose my mind.”

He wanted her to put clothes
on
? Confused by his
order and not a little distracted by the sight of him in a muscle-hugging white
T-shirt, Sarah found herself pulling the garment over herself. Perhaps he liked
the idea of seeing her in his clothes. When the snuggly wool caressed her skin
and made David’s earthy scent swirl around her, Sarah figured he might be on to
something. She arched a brow. “You’re not going to ask to put on my underwear
now, are you?”

He scoffed. “Not something I’m into, lady.”

“Good. Come here.”

She grabbed his T-shirt and managed to draw him toward her
for another passionate kiss before he pulled away, panting. “You need to get
some rest.”

“Sure. Afterward.”

“We’re not having sex tonight, I told you that.”

The fact that he was making a solid effort to keep their
bodies separated finally started to penetrate Sarah’s lust-fogged brain. She
blinked at him. “Are you kidding me?”

His smile was a mirthless twist of his lips. “I wish I was.”

“But I thought… I assumed…”

“That I was a sure thing?” A little humor seeped into his
expression. “My, my, should I be insulted?”

Sarah scowled. “David, I’m practically throwing myself at
you.”

“Don’t think I don’t appreciate the effort.”

“The
effort
!” With a vicious yank, Sarah pulled the
quilt over her body, forming a barrier between them. “Don’t flatter yourself!”

He outright laughed at that, which only made Sarah angrier.
And more hurt. Somewhere deep inside his rejection stung so badly it brought
the burn of tears.

“Hey, hey, don’t do that.” Cupping her face, David angled it
so he could see her. “Aw, damn it. You can’t think this is because I don’t want
you. Not the case, Sarah. I want you so much I’m hard all over.”

His admission sent desire spiraling through her again,
dispelling her mortification somewhat. “Then why not? I won’t expect anything
more from you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He released a tired sigh. “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m
worried about.”

“I don’t get it.”

With a gentle hand, David pushed back a strand of hair that
had escaped her French twist “I wish you would expect more from me. I need you
to give me—us—more credit than you have so far. I want to be with you so badly
but I’m not just after sex. I want to make love to you.”

That dead-of-night conversation came back to Sarah like a
remembered dream.
Let’s pretend, for a little while longer.
She smiled
and rose to her knees, placing a hand on David’s chest. The solid thud of his
heart knocked against her palm. “Call it whatever you want. Just don’t leave me
in here alone.”

She slanted her face and brushed her lips against his. His
heart slammed frantically against her hand. A soft breath fell out of his mouth
as he withstood the teasing caress of hers. Sarah continued like that, pressing
featherlight kisses to his lips until he groaned and grabbed her buttocks in a
reflexive grip. His surrender caused fire to rage between them, a swift
flare-up. Sarah was wriggling and desperate in an instant, a relieved moan
rumbling in her throat when David sought the zipper of her trousers and lowered
it, no longer resisting temptation.

He eased her back onto the mattress and tugged at her
trousers until they fell to the floor, leaving her in only his sweater and her
underwear. He surveyed the sheer white lace of her panties with a hungry
inspection. “Damn, Sarah. You make me crazy.”

The response was definitely mutual. “I want to make you lose
your mind.”

“You’re succeeding.” He ran a hand up and down her bare
thigh, causing hot gooseflesh to erupt. “Do you remember how I made you come
the first time, Sarah? With my mouth and the champagne?”

The mere mention of it had Sarah arching her body. “Is that
a rhetorical question?”

The corner of his mouth lifted, a hint of cockiness shining
through. “You trusted me then, opened to me completely. Was it only because you
thought you’d never see me again?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” There was no denying the anonymity of
their first encounter had enabled Sarah to behave more boldly than she ordinarily
would have. There was also no denying that David’s patience and skill had
played a crucial part.

“What if you knew you had to face me the next day, and the
next and the next. Do you think you could come like that again if I kissed you
here?”

“David.” Sarah writhed on the bed, moving her hips once more
in a silent plea. “Don’t tease me.”

Lowering his head, he placed his scorching mouth against her
mound, the heat of him penetrating the thin layer of her panties. He moaned and
the vibration of his lips made electric tension thrum through her clit. He
lifted his head again and said, “Stay with me this weekend.”

It took Sarah a few seconds to grasp his train of thought.
“The whole weekend?”

“It’s Friday night. Stay until Monday morning.”

“I can’t. I have meetings, paperwork…” He blew a warm breath
over her, the tantalizing sensation causing Sarah’s pussy lips to quiver with
need. “David, please!”

“I bet I can make you come, even though it’s not anonymous.
Even though you might have to admit it could mean something.”

Sarah reached down and speared her fingers through his hair,
urging him downward as she lifted herself off the mattress. “Do it. Prove it to
me.”

His lips curved, Sarah felt it when he buried his face in
her inner thigh, tormenting inches left of where she wanted him most. “Stay
with me.”

“I have so much work,” Sarah spat, frustrated. “I can’t take
the weekend off.”

“You’re the boss. You can do whatever you want.”

“I can’t have you, apparently,” Sarah groused.

“Not true.” From his position between her thighs, David
pinned her with his dark gaze. “I’m yours. Stay the weekend. I want to make you
come over and over and over again.”

Right now, Sarah would settle for once. Her clit burned with
need, pulsed with it so ferociously the lace of her panties was an unbearable
irritant. But then David pressed his mouth to her once more, sending his tongue
out to lave her through the fabric and the barrier became less of an irritant
and more of a rough, pleasurable sensation against her inflamed nerves. “Oh! Oh
dear God.”