Authors: Victoria Purman
Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Contemporary
Inside her, filling her body and soul, Ry found his rhythm and she rode the wave with him, his whole body clenching. When he came with a resounding thrust and a moan, she gripped him tighter, clutching his arms, kissing his stubbled jaw, and then devouring his mouth when his lips found hers again. He was on her, all around her, inside her. She felt possessed by him, taken over, protected and devoured. And it was intoxicating and addictive.
Julia’s fingers savoured the strength in every cord of muscle on his shoulders and back, stroking him in circles, waiting until she could feel the tension slip away. Then, she slid her hands down the strong planes of his
back and hips to his butt and squeezed it roughly, thrusting him towards her, feeling him fill her.
He didn’t move, just lay there, claiming her, his body on hers, covering her, warming her in the cold winter room. Even in the semi-dark, his sapphire-blue eyes lit a fire in her the way they always had.
He planted a quick kiss on her swollen lips and eased out of her.
‘Don’t move.’
Move? I want to dance a tango and scream. I’ve just been had by the sexiest man in the world!
Julia simply screamed on the inside and Ry returned a minute later, climbing back on top of her, his wonderful body all over her again.
He kissed her with gentle lips and a sexy grin. ‘Hey.’
‘Hi.’
‘You ready?’ He cocked his eyebrows.
‘For what?’
‘This.’
With a smirk he kissed a path down Julia’s body, from breasts to ribs, from belly button to hipbones. When he reached the top of her thighs, he grinned up at her with raised eyebrows before dipping his head. The feel of his lips on the soft insides of her thighs sent an ache to her core and she arched up against him, urging him on. His fingers found her centre and, using them to part her delicate folds, he used his tongue, circling, swirling, slow strokes and exquisite pressure, licking and sucking her into his mouth.
Julia felt the pressure build and then crack, felt the bliss sweep over her and inside her, heard a moan from her mouth and his name on her lips in a cry of ecstasy so powerful she could taste blood in her mouth. The rush took over, blurred her vision, squeezed the air from her lungs, short-circuited all her senses. She felt ruined and reborn at the same time.
And then she was aware of Ry right beside her, squeezing his masculine frame next to her in the single bed, covering them both with the blankets. His warm, safe hand rested on her belly, which was still twisting and shifting, and his strong thighs curved against her. She didn’t feel crowded or smothered. She felt safe and free.
When Julia could think straight, she flickered open her eyes and he was right there, half in shadow, half in light. Propped up on one elbow, he was
watching her, gently tracing a finger over her reddened cheek, her bruised lips, the soft curve of her jaw. A half smile tugged at his lips and his brow creased.
They simply looked at each for a long moment.
‘What just happened?’ she whispered with a sensuous sigh. He looked as confused as she felt. Confused, satisfied, slightly baffled.
‘That was …’ He blew out a breath.
‘Unexpected,’ she managed to say.
‘Unbelievable.’
He cupped her left breast tenderly, curving his fingers around its soft fullness and leaned down to flick her nipple with his tongue, teasing it back to a nub. His eyes were on her and she smiled, arching her back in response.
‘God you’re beautiful, JJ.’ The softness in his voice had her heart missing a beat.
‘Well,’ she said, her voice catching, ‘a girl never gets sick of hearing that.’
‘I mean it. You’ve always been beautiful.’ His blue eyes glistened and a serious smile tugged at his lips.
She reached up to touch his hair, smoothing it behind his ears, and then let her fingers drift down to the scar on his cheek. She traced its line, slowly, feeling its subtle edges against the stubble and took in every part of his face, the way its shadows shifted in the moonlight. His eyes smiled and his mouth moved towards her, gently, slowly, tenderly, teasing her with his lips. A warm and full feeling washed over her and the last thing she remembered was the feel of Ry’s fingers intertwining with hers and the taste of shiraz on her lips.
Julia blinked twice. Her eyes felt scratchy and the light streaming in through the window made for a rude awakening. Her head felt a bit thick from the wine of the previous night and then she remembered what else had happened. A satisfied grin crept over her face.
‘What’s the time?’ she asked herself, her voice hoarse, realising as she stretched and yawned deeply that parts of her body were aching in a way they hadn’t ached for a long time. She squeezed her thighs together at the memory and smiled like a Cheshire cat.
She turned in the bed and looked around the room. Her boots were
strewn on the floor, as if a crazy Cossack had kicked them off
mid-dance. Her bra was rolled into an inexplicable twist, snagged on the top of the chest of drawers, and her jeans were inside out, right beside her bra.
She couldn’t see any trace of Ry’s big black boots, his black T-shirt or his jeans.
Did I imagine the whole thing?
Another grin at the answer. She jumped out of bed, making sure to wrap a blanket around her naked body before padding out into the empty and frigidly cold living room. Her toes became instantly numb on the bare floor and outside, the southerlies were blowing fiercely, rattling the front door in its frame. Fat droplets of rain were streaking the salt-encrusted windows.
‘Ry?’ she called hesitantly.
It was quiet in the house. She could see the haphazard arrangement of paint tins and roller trays on the floor in the middle of the room, where they’d left them the day before, and a couple of dirty coffee cups on the kitchen bench.
There was no sexy blonde man to be seen.
He was gone.
She blew out a breath and bit her lip. One night. No expectations. No explanations. Isn’t that what she’d wanted? And isn’t that what he’d wanted too?
She shivered, not sure if it was at the memory or from the cold. Boy, had she wanted. Details of her night with the sexiest man she’d ever met flickered through her mind like a slideshow on speed.
She remembered a toe-curling orgasm and could still feel a tightness in her belly from how unbelievable it had been. She remembered the heat of his body next to hers and being held close with his hand, his arm, his thighs. There was a lingering taste of dark chocolate and red wine on her tongue, the feel of Ry’s lips on her forehead, and his body warming her, surrounding her. A sensation of warmth and capitulation so strong washed over her at the memory.
And then … a total blank.
There must have been something else. Who could forget even one detail of having a man like Ry naked next to her in bed?
Think. Think
.
She’d reached up to feel his scar, he’d kissed her hair and whispered
something in her ear, something low and delicious and — what the hell was it?
Nothing.
The realisation hit her like a slap to the face.
You fell asleep. With Ry next to you.
She’d had a naked, consenting — nay,
demanding
— adult in her bed, one who just minutes before had rolled her eyes into the back of her head with a flick of his tongue and she’d fallen asleep like a retiree watching a Saturday night British murder mystery.
The humiliation rose from her toes to the top of her head in a sickening wave.
He’d probably left in disgust.
And who would blame him.
Ry gripped the gearstick of his SUV, dropping it down a gear to power up Flagstaff Hill Road, behind the coastal stretch of Middle Point. He checked the time on the dash. It was just seven a.m., and he had a good hour and a half of peak hour traffic to contend with before his nine a.m. board meeting in Adelaide, eighty kilometres away. That left him with plenty of time to think about last night as he drove.
Plenty of time to think about Julia Jones.
A strange spike of pleasure eased through him at the realisation that he’d spent the whole day — and night — with her.
After all of yesterday’s hard work, he’d been strangely proud to have her at his table, feeling relaxed and loose, drinking his wine. And she was a woman who knew about wine. He couldn’t deny that was a turn on. If he never met another woman who didn’t drink because they were afraid of the calories, he wouldn’t be sorry. And Julia didn’t stick to the safer light whites, like sauvignon blanc. She clearly preferred a deep, intense, full-bodied wine. Just thinking about her lips on the glass, sipping, swirling and savouring the bouquet had him wanting her again.
All through dinner he’d become increasingly obsessed with getting her naked and as soon as they were alone he’d exploded with need for her. He wasn’t in the habit of pushing women up against walls and showing them exactly how hard he was. But damn it, from the way she’d responded he figured he might do it more often.
And then there was the sex. He shook his head at the memory and let a shit-eating grin crease his face. A single bed had never stopped him in the past and it definitely hadn’t cramped his style last night. She’d been hungry for him, demanding, and he couldn’t deny the sense of primal male satisfaction he felt when she came. And afterwards, when she’d fallen asleep holding his hand … well, he didn’t know how to describe how he felt about that.
He’d woken early, but lay there a while, watching Julia sleep. Her full lips were plump and pink and he counted the faint freckles scattered across her nose, biting back the urge to kiss each one. Her dark eyelashes were
fanned out on her cheeks, and her creamy white breasts rose and fell with every breath. She’d been dead to the world, which was no surprise after all yesterday’s work.
He’d tried to control himself, tried to keep his hands off her and let her sleep. It had taken every single bit of willpower he had not to give in to his little brain and shake her awake for an encore performance. He’d tried the subtle way, with a gentle kiss on her lips, but she’d wriggled and gone back to sleep.
When he reached over to stroke her nipple, she moaned and tossed, then murmured in a rough and sleepy voice, ‘Ry … I like you sexy guy … oh yeah … mmm.’ In her sleep, she raised an arm above her head, bringing it to rest on the pillow, and then fell back into a deep and obviously totally satisfied slumber.
Eventually he crept out of bed and tiptoed silently about the room, collecting his clothes and boots, dressed and quietly closed the front door behind him. All in two minutes flat.
Ry stifled a yawn and smiled it away as he rounded a bend in the road.
Sexy guy.
He’d been called worse. He cranked up some music to get him revved for the day and the pounding beat of the
Foo Fighters immediately filled the car. He loved driving along the curved roads through the low hills with their songs in his head.
The music was so loud he almost didn’t hear his phone ring. When it finally registered, he glanced at his Bluetooth, checked his rear-view mirror and muted the music.
‘Ry Blackburn.’
There was a moment’s silence.
‘Ry?’ It was Julia, her voice amplified, filling his car, opening up a strange place behind his solar plexus. He found himself grinning like an idiot.
‘Good morning.’
‘Yeah, you too.’ Her voice was still morning-husky and he responded like any red-blooded man would. He rearranged himself in the car seat.
‘Sleep well?’
‘Look, Ry, I can’t believe what happened.’
Regret? This soon?
‘Julia …’
‘I was exhausted after all that painting. I’m not normally like that … I
mean … Oh shit. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.’
Damn it. She’d taken his question about sleeping to be a dig. ‘Hell no, that’s not what I meant at all.’
‘It’s just that … it was a big day.’
‘Yeah, of course it was. It was an amazing day. We got a lot done.’
Ry wished he could see her face. ‘Believe me, JJ, I’m the one who’s sorry. I’ve got a meeting at nine in Adelaide I can’t get out of. I didn’t get the chance to tell you about it last night.’
‘That would be because I fell asleep,’ Julia replied, and now he could hear the laugh in her voice. A weight lifted from his chest.
‘Hey. I’m never offended when a woman falls asleep in my arms from either sheer satisfaction or utter exhaustion.’
‘Mmm. Sheer satisfaction or utter exhaustion? I think it may have been a bit of both, Ry.’
‘So, I guess you found my phone number and my message.’
‘Yeah, I did. Great idea to stick your business card to my jar of Vegemite.’ She felt weirdly nervous.
‘I thought so. I wanted to let you know why I had to leave early. That I didn’t just run out. That’s not my style.’
He waited for a response. Flickering shadows fell across Ry’s car as he drove by a copse of pines on the side of the road and he took a quick glance at his phone to see if they were still connected.
‘Julia?’ he finally asked.
‘Yeah, I’m still here.’
‘I thought you’d dropped out. The reception here in the hills can be a bit ropey. You all right?’
‘I’m fine. Really. I just need a coffee, that’s all.’
Ry stopped fighting over what he should say and just said it. ‘Look, I’ve got some work to do in the city in the next couple of days so I’ll be stuck there until Friday night. Can I call you later when I’m in the office? I don’t want to keep shouting at you on my hands-free.’
‘Sure. You should have my number in your mobile phone now, since I called you and everything.’
‘Great. I’ll speak to you tonight.’
‘Okay Ry,’ she said, the crackly reception breaking up her voice. ‘See you.’
‘Bye JJ.’
Ry slowed to negotiate the next bend on the highway. Instead of powering out of it, he pulled over to the side of the road, tapped his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel in time to the music. Something wasn’t right. After the night they’d spent together, he now felt strangely disconnected from her. That whole conversation had been strange, like they were two little kids trying to communicate with each other through cheap Christmas present walkie-talkies. And that’s not how he’d wanted to leave things. She had to know that one night wasn’t enough for him. He listened to the car idling, the wind whipping around him, the Foo Fighters urging him to think if everything could be this good for ever.
Thanks Dave.