Persuading Spring: A Sexy New Zealand Romance (The Four Seasons Book 4) (12 page)

“I understand.” She finished off the last
mouthful of her Tiramisu.

He’d had enough of the dessert and pushed
the rest across in case she wanted it. She surveyed it for a moment, then drew
the dish toward her.

He hid a smile. “Has Mal tried to contact
you?”

“Yeah, he’s rung several times a day, every
day, but I leave my phone off most of the time. I don’t want to talk to him.
Maybe when I get back I will, just to round things off, but not yet.”

“But… you don’t think you’ll get back with
him.”

“No.” She smiled. “I wouldn’t be here if I
was, Aaron.”

He liked the way she said his name, how she
rolled the vowels around her tongue and made it sound soft and sexy. It sounded
as if she’d decided it was over with Mal.

He stared out to sea, feeling as if he was
floundering in the deep blue water. He wished he knew what he should or ought
to do, but there was no rule book, and no crystal ball to look into and see how
it was all going to work out. He didn’t know how to put his own selfish desires
to one side.
You don’t think I know my own mind?
she’d said. Maybe she
was right, and if she said she wanted to go to bed with him, he should accept
that she knew what she was doing and follow his heart.

Or his dick. It was unclear which was
talking the loudest.

Bridget finished off the last spoonful of
dessert and pushed away the plate. Aaron had leaned back in his chair and was
watching her. The wine had loosened her up and gotten rid of the last of the
tension in her shoulders and back. It was a beautiful evening, the deck heater
staving off the evening chill, the air filled with the sounds of people
enjoying their meals and the gentle rolling of the waves on the shore.

Aaron’s eyes were still filled with desire,
but his face was wary, and she understood why. Extending her arm, she offered
her hand, palm up. He looked at it for a moment, then reached out to take it.
His fingers were warm, and when he brushed his thumb across her knuckles, she
had to stifle a shiver.

“I’ve had a lovely evening,” she said.
“It’s been great to spend some time with you in clothes that actually fit.”

He laughed. “Yeah.”

Could she be brave enough to say it? Birdie
would thank him for the meal and kiss him goodnight on the cheek before returning
to the bed and breakfast alone. Birdie wouldn’t have done anything that anyone
could criticize her for.

But she was tired of old Birdie. How was
that living?

“Would you like a coffee?” he asked. “Or
would you like to go for a walk along the beach?”

“A walk sounds lovely.”

“Come on, then. I hope you’ll let me pay? I
am a tad old fashioned, and even though I’m not sure if this is technically a
date, I’d like to pay.”

She smiled. “That would be lovely.”

So he paid, and then they walked down the
steps and across the road onto the grassy verge beside the beach. Most of the
shops had closed, but the cafés and restaurants were all open, spilling light
onto the pavement, the sound of music filtering out and entwining with the
light sea breeze. She’d discovered that twilight was practically non-existent
up here, and it turned from light to dark quickly, without the gradual fading
of light she was used to. The moon was out, and the stars were already popping
out in the sky.

“What a gorgeous evening,” she said.

“Mmm.” He smiled. His gaze had barely left
her since they’d met. Her skin prickled as if there was static electricity all
around, hairs rising on her arms and goose bumps appearing, and she wasn’t
cold. Their hormones were having a conversation all of their own, her body
reacting to him whether she wanted it to or not.

She’d never done anything like this before.
She’d dated Mal for six months before she’d slept with him, and she’d never
slept with anyone else. She was pretty sure that Aaron wouldn’t turn her down
if she asked him to go to bed with her, but there was a risk, of course, if
only because he had principles and felt he shouldn’t take advantage of her.

Could she really do it, though? Take her
clothes off with a man she hardly knew? She was young and not bad looking, but
she was a little heavier than she wanted, and not skinny like the models in
magazines. It was one thing to talk about appreciating the moment, and another
to let a man she’d just met see her naked and touch her…

“You’re blushing,” he said, amused. “Penny
for them.”

She stopped walking. They were nearing the
end of the beach, the restaurants behind them. The full moon cast a white path
on the sea and highlighted them both with silver. They stood near a huge, old
pohutukawa tree, its trunk and branches gnarled and twisted, not yet showing
the scarlet flowers that would appear nearer to Christmas.

Surprise on his face, Aaron stopped too and
faced her.

She shoved her hands in the pockets of her
jacket, hunching her shoulders. “I want to say something, and hopefully you’ll
let me finish, even if you think I’m making a fool of myself.” She didn’t let
him answer. “I’ve spent almost a week on my own, thinking about Mal and what
happened, and I’m very conscious that you’re worried I’m on the rebound. I’m
sure you’re concerned that I’m feeling rejected and I’m desperate for
reassurance, for someone to tell me I’m attractive. Hand on my heart, I can’t
completely deny any of that—I wouldn’t be human if I could.”

He didn’t interrupt—he just stood there
studying her, thoughtful and quiet, his lips slightly pursed, his eyes
glittering silver in the moonlight.

She cleared her throat. “But the thing is,
over the past week, even though I’ve been thinking about what happened, I
haven’t been able to get you out of my mind. Is it possible that what I’m
feeling stems from the fact that you rescued me that day? Absolutely. Could it
be that I’m thinking there’s more to this than there really is—that I’m
romanticizing it? Quite possibly. But you know what? I don’t care.”

His eyebrows lifted a little, but he still
didn’t say anything.

She moistened her lips. “What I’m trying to
say is, I like you. I find you attractive and sexy, and I came here because I
wanted to explore that. I’d like to come back to your place, and I’d like to go
to bed with you.”

Her mouth had gone dry. She had no idea
what he was thinking. “I know there’s no chance of anything long term,” she
continued hastily, “and that’s fine. I’m not looking for that. I’m looking for
comfort, for fun, for physical pleasure, just for a day, or a few days,
whatever. I’d like to share myself with someone new, and see what it’s like.
I’d like to live, Aaron—really live—and share something with you that I’ll be
able to remember with a smile for the rest of my days.”

Now he looked completely bemused, and she
had the horrible feeling he was about to back away hastily and walk off in the
opposite direction.

“I want you to be honest,” she said,
somewhat desperately. “If I’ve shocked you, and it’s not what you want, please
just say.”

He reached out a hand, placed it on her
arm, and gently turned her as if he was about to direct her onto the road.

She swallowed hard. “If you’re worried
about repercussions, or you feel uncomfortable, and you just want to stay
friends—or even if you don’t want to see me again, please say so.”

He stepped forward, forcing her to back up.
Wasn’t he going to say anything?

“Aaron…” She began to panic that she’d made
a terrible mistake.

Suddenly, her back met the pohutukawa trunk
with a bump. She gasped, but he didn’t apologize. Instead, a sexy smile curved
up his lips as he moved close to her, and he cupped her face in his hands, his
thumbs brushing her cheeks.

She inhaled deeply, her hands still in her
pockets, and froze, shocked to the core. She didn’t know what she’d expected
him to do—maybe mumble that he’d think about it, or state there and then that
he wasn’t into casual sex and didn’t fancy her like that anyway.

He didn’t say anything, but he did
hesitate, his lips not quite touching hers.

Was he thinking about Nita? About the fact
that, up until this moment, he’d been faithful to her? It was the same for her—she’d
never kissed another man, not like this. Until his lips touched hers, it would
just be flirtatious talk and dinner, no harm done. If they went further than
that, it would be as if they were drawing a line under their previous
relationships and accepting they were ready to move on.

Was he giving her time to accept this? To
move back, to say no?

She didn’t move, afraid he might take any
gesture as a sign that she didn’t want him. Instead, she closed her eyes and
waited, feeling the sea breeze lift her hair, concentrating on his warm hands
on her skin.

Then, to her immense relief, he kissed her.

His lips moved across hers, soft and gentle,
tentative almost, as if giving her the chance to push him away if she suddenly
realized she couldn’t go through with it.

She didn’t, though. He hadn’t zipped up his
jacket, and she took her hands out of her pockets, parted the two sides, and
rested her hands on his shirt. His skin was warm beneath her fingertips, and as
she slowly moved her hands around him inside the jacket, they passed over firm
muscle, and he shivered and lifted his head.

“Are you cold?” she whispered.

“No.” He brushed a thumb across her lips.
“Now it’s my turn to say something.”

She felt in a dreamy stupor with his warm
hands cupping her face, but she just said, “Okay.”

“The gentleman in me is telling me I should
say no to you, because it’s only days since you broke up with Mal, and you must
still be emotionally vulnerable. But you made it clear that it’s not fair to
put words in your mouth. I’m not going to assume that I know you better than
you know yourself. I want you, Bridget, and I want to take you to bed, but I
need to tell you now that if you change your mind at any time, I want you to
say.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

“Any time. I’m not the kind of guy who’ll
get angry if you suddenly say you can’t go through with it.”

“I know.”

“I mean, I’d rather you not leave it until
the crucial moment, but even then, if you feel you must, just tell me to stop
and I will.”

“I understand, Aaron, but I won’t. I want
this as much as you. This isn’t just about me and what happened at the weekend.
This is about us. Even though I was upset on Saturday, I was conscious of being
attracted to you. I told myself it was only because you’d rescued me, but I’ve
had days to think about it, and I know that’s not all it was. You’re gorgeous
and sexy, and I like the way you look at me. I can’t say I’m not nervous about
sleeping with someone new, but it’s exciting too.” Embracing new Bridget, she
threw all caution to the wind. “I want to tear off your clothes and see what
you look like naked. I want to touch your skin and kiss it and feel how hard
you are, and I want to have you inside me. I want—”

“Ah, God.” He groaned and crushed his lips
to hers.

Taken by surprise at his forcefulness, she
gasped, but all it did was give him the opportunity to delve his tongue into
her mouth and deepen the kiss. She moaned, her body superheating, and slid her
arms right around him until her hands were on his shoulder blades. Reaching up
on tiptoes, she leaned into the kiss, and his arms came around her, one on her
back holding her steady, the other sliding down onto her butt, pulling her
against him.

He was so self-effacing and his manner was
so gentle that she’d expected him to be tentative and hesitant with her, but
she couldn’t have been more wrong. His mouth claimed hers with a passion she
hadn’t expected, heat searing between them, and she felt the clear evidence of
his desire pressed against her, hard and impressive even through his jeans.

When he finally lifted his head, they were
both breathing heavily. He moved back, blinked and focused on her, and then
together their lips gradually curved up.

He glanced away, across the sea to the moon
for a moment, still smiling, then looked back at her and gave a short laugh of
pure, unbridled joy.

“Come on,” he said, and he grabbed her hand
and led her up to the road, heading for the hill in front of them.

Luckily, the cleaner had been that morning,
so Aaron’s house looked neat and tidy, the kitchen sparkling, the living room
free of dust and fluff and smelling of carpet spray instead of dog.

He slid off his jacket, then took hers and
hung them on one of the chairs by his desk.

“How are you with dogs?” He hesitated with
one hand on the sliding door to the garden.

“I love them, don’t worry.”

“Okay, get prepared.” He opened the door,
and two streaks of lightning flashed past him, jumping as if they were on
trampolines.

“All right, all right.” He fussed them
briefly, then introduced them to Bridget. “The boxer is Tycho. The basset is
Kepler.”

Bridget laughed. “You’re into medieval
astronomy?”

He felt a warm glow that she recognized the
names. “A little hobby of mine.”

“I guess they should just be glad they’re
not named after fish.”

He grinned, watching her fuss over the two
dogs.

“Have you had them since puppies?” she
asked.

“No. Tycho was around two when I got him.
I’ve only had Kepler six months.”

“They’re rescue dogs?”

“Kind of.”

“You got them from the SPCA place I passed
on the way in?”

“God, no. I daren’t go anywhere near there.
I’d end up bringing the whole place home. They were both found injured and
abandoned, and brought into the surgery.”

She straightened and walked to stand before
him. With a finger, she traced down the front of his shirt. “You’re a regular
St. Francis of Assisi, aren’t you?”

“I don’t think I’d ever achieve sainthood,
but I am a soft touch.”

She tucked a finger into the placket of his
shirt and pulled him toward her. “I like that,” she murmured, and lifted up on
tiptoes.

Aaron slid a hand around her back to hold
her steady and lowered his lips to hers. Her soft body molded to his, warm and
yielding, and he couldn’t stop his hand sliding down and splaying on her
bottom, his fingers tightening and pulling her to him.

He guessed it was because he hadn’t had sex
in a long time, but just this tender, intimate kissing sent his blood racing
around his body and had him hardening in seconds. He’d forgotten what a turn on
it was to have a woman interested in him. Bridget wanted him—it was obvious not
only in her words but in the way she touched him, her approving murmurs, the
hunger with which she claimed his mouth.

Something bumped against his leg. He lifted
his head and looked down to see Tycho standing there expectantly with his leash
in his mouth, Kepler behind him, tail wagging.

“Guys, seriously? Kinda busy here.”

Bridget looked down and laughed. “Do you
need to take them for a walk?”

“They can wait for a while. I fed them and
gave them a short walk before I came to meet you.” He gestured to the two dog
beds in front of the gas fire. “Bed.”

Tycho dropped his leash and gave him a look
as if to say
You cruel, cruel man
.

“Don’t give me that,” Aaron scolded. “I
know usually it’s bro’s before ho’s but tonight I’m making an exception.”

He watched them slink off to their beds
then turned his gaze back to see that Bridget’s eyebrows had lifted. He thought
about what he’d said. “Sorry, I wasn’t really calling you a ho.”

She laughed, lifted her arms around his
neck, and kissed him.

Aaron wrapped his arms around her and
walked her backward into the kitchen as he returned the kiss, enjoying the
slide of her tongue against his, the press of her breasts to his chest. Lost in
the kiss, he bumped her into the doorframe, then into the kitchen counter, and
they both laughed, coming to rest by the fridge.

“Glass of wine?” he murmured against her
lips.

“I’d love one.”

Keeping one hand on her hip, not wanting to
let her go, he retrieved two glasses from the cupboard and a bottle from the
fridge. Sliding his arms around her, he opened the bottle behind her back while
he kissed her, then poured the wine into the glasses. He gave one to her, and
they touched the rims together.

“To desire,” she said.

Heat rushed through him at the thought of
what was to come. “To desire.”

He sipped the wine, enjoying the slide of
the cool liquid down his throat, the sweet taste of apples and citrus fruits.

“Mmm,” she said and touched the tip of her
tongue to her lips to catch a drop.

His gaze dropped to them, his heart picking
up speed. “Do that again.”

Her lips parted as she inhaled, and then
she moistened them slowly, leaving them plump and glistening.

Aaron bent his head and touched his lips to
hers. His body urged him to kiss her hard, to give in to the fire that burned
inside him, but he ignored it and took his time, pressing his lips lightly to
hers from one corner to the other before returning to the center and touching
his tongue to her lips. She gasped—he loved that, her little inhalations of
surprise and pleasure—and parted her lips, and he slid his tongue inside her
mouth.

Mmm
, she
tasted of wine and chocolate, and the kiss brought all kinds of sweet, dark
desires rising up in him to echo the rich wantonness of the dessert. Nita had
liked chocolate—didn’t all women?—but he knew that the taste of chocolate and
coffee would always make him think of Bridget in years to come.

A small, sexy moan sounded deep in her
throat, and something clicked inside Aaron, flipping his switch from patient to
urgent, from simmering to sizzling. He put his wine glass down, slid his hands
around onto her butt, and plunged his tongue into her mouth.

Her small moan transformed into a long one,
and she also placed her glass down and lifted her arms around his neck. Her
fingers slid into his hair, her nails scraping ever so slightly on his scalp,
and he shuddered and gave up on holding back. He’d made it clear that she could
ask him to stop at any time. At the moment, there was no sign of that, and
until that instruction came, he was darned well going to enjoy himself.

*

Bridget’s head was spinning, her body
tingling from Aaron’s heated passion. She hadn’t expected this—Jesus, she was
so naive. She’d thought she’d feel shy and nervous about kissing him, let alone
doing anything else. Because he’d been hesitant and worried about taking
advantage of her, she’d thought he’d be fumbling and awkward, but he wasn’t.
His hands when they slid over her trembling body were sure and steady, his
mouth hot and demanding, taking, not asking, which was…
holy shit
… so
hot she thought she was going to self-combust.

In spite of his obvious desire, she had the
feeling he wasn’t just going to strip her, heft her over his shoulder, and
carry her through to the bedroom. From his words, he was obviously concerned
that at the last minute she might realize what she was doing and want to stop.
That wasn’t going to happen—she would never come on to a guy and lead him to
this stage only to refuse to see it through—but his thoughtfulness and kind
nature touched her to the core.

She moved her hands to his shirt and began
to pop the buttons through the holes, desperate to show him how much she wanted
this. At the same time, he slid his hands beneath her top, skating them over
the sensitive skin of her stomach and around her ribs, and she shivered. Her
nipples tightened of their own accord, aching for his hands to touch them. Had
she ever felt this hunger with Mal? Had her body ever throbbed with pleasure?
It must have done, in the early days, but it had been a long while since she’d
longed to have him inside her like this. It made her a little sad—why hadn’t
she realized that the flame had died between them?

She pushed the sadness away. This wasn’t
about what she’d lost, but what she’d gained. Meeting Aaron had been a twist of
fate she could never have foreseen, and she had to make the most of it while it
lasted, like admiring a shooting star, or the vibrant colors of a sunset.

She undid the last button and pushed his
shirt off his shoulders. He dropped his hands temporarily to let it fall to the
floor, then returned them to her hips.

Bridget placed her palms on his chest and
smoothed them out, over his shoulders and down his arms. “You’re a fine figure
of a man, Aaron,” she said truthfully, returning her fingers to his pecs,
sliding them through the curly hairs and over his flat nipples.

He didn’t say anything, and she raised her
gaze to see that oddly bemused look in his eyes. It made her soften—it had been
a long time since someone had admired him, had desired him.

She lifted a hand to cup his face and
brushed her thumb across his bottom lip. “I want you,” she whispered. “I’ve
wanted you since the first time I saw you, even though I was half in another
world at the time. There’s something between us—I don’t know what, and I don’t
understand it—but it’s there, and when you look at me it gets me right here.”
She placed a hand over her solar plexus, feeling the flutter inside as his gray
eyes surveyed her.

Rising up, she touched her lips to his. “I
want you naked. I want to feel you against me. I want your body hot against
mine, inside mine. I’ve never wanted anything so much as I want you, and it’s
making me ache.”

She took his hand and placed it on her
breast. “Make love to me, Aaron.”

“I’ve not had sex for quite a while,” he
said, his voice somewhat hoarse. “You’re severely testing my self-control,
talking like that.”

Her lips curved up. “I want to test it.”
She touched her tongue to his lip. “I want to drive you crazy.”

He growled, like a tiger, and pushed her up
against the counter with enough force to make her gasp, following which he
plunged his tongue into her open mouth. She moaned and lifted her arms around
his neck, pressing against him, and felt his hands at the buttons of her shirt,
his fingers swiftly pushing them through the holes. In moments he was pushing
it off her shoulders, and she let it fall to the floor, holding her breath as
his gaze slid down her.

His eyes widened. “Wow.”

She looked down at herself. She was wearing
one of Rowan’s special creations—an item from her Saharan Sunset collection,
inspired by the safari trip she’d taken with Hitch. The burgundy teddy
consisted of stretchy lace from the waist up that clung to her breasts, the
intricate gold and orange shimmery thread sparkling in the light. Wanting to
show him the rest, she toed off her sandals, unbuttoned her jeans, and slid
them off, then leaned back against the counter, tucking her hands under her
butt so she wasn’t tempted to cover herself up. A sexy mesh flared over her
butt like a pair of French knickers. She’d loved the teddy as soon as Rowan had
shown her the design. It was comfortable and pretty, and you didn’t have to be
stick thin to look sexy in it.

“Jesus,” he said.

Her body was heating fast under his hot
gaze. “You like?” she asked shyly.

His eyes came back to hers, filled with
humor, half-lidded with desire. “Yes, Bridget, I like.” He moved closer to her,
pressing her up against the counter, and slid his hands up to her breasts. “You
have an amazing figure.”

His hands were warm through the lace, his
caresses gentle, and when he brushed his fingers over her nipples, she exhaled
approvingly.

“It makes my hair stand on end when you
sigh like that.” He slid a hand beneath the lace to cup her breast, and she
automatically arched her back as he claimed her mouth again.

She moaned at the sexy slide of his tongue
against hers, shuddered when he squeezed her nipple and circled it with his
thumb. An ache was growing between her thighs, everything becoming
hyper-sensitive. Wherever he touched her burned. His kisses were becoming more
demanding, his mouth hungry, and she groaned when he kissed down her neck and
then bent to cover a nipple with his mouth, his tongue teasing the tip through
the lace.

“Aaron…” She clutched hold of his jeans and
pulled his hips to hers, rocking against his hard length as he kissed back up
to her mouth and delved his tongue inside. She lifted her leg to wrap around
him, and he stroked his hand up her thigh to her hip, sliding beneath the
material to cup her bare bottom.

His fingers traced over her hip and along
the inside of her thigh, and then he lifted his head as he moved his hand to
cup her mound. Slowly, as if he was giving her time to object, his eyes on
hers, he pushed the teddy aside and slipped two fingers down and into her
folds.

She must have been wet and swollen because
his fingers slid easily into her, and he gave a half laugh, half groan, and
used his other hand to cup the back of her head while he crushed his lips to
hers.

Bridget felt herself spiraling out of
control. His fingers were skilled and sure, slick with her moisture, insistent
as they massaged her clit until she teetered on the edge of a climax.

“Aaron.” She fumbled at the button of his
jeans, then paused as something occurred to her. “Oh shit. Please tell me you
have a condom.”