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“I’m sure there are standards.”
“Are you?”
She flinched. “I know we had a good time together. But I’m not going to pretend I believe the sex is significant to you.”
“I’m not sure who that speaks worse of,” he said. “Me or you.”
She watched him walk away. Part of her wanted to call him back, to say that she hadn’t really meant it. That if he thought there was even the slightest chance they could make it work, she would sell her soul for the opportunity. Then she reminded herself that she’d already given the Wordens plenty over the years. They could manage very well without her soul.
The garden smelled sweet. The air was cool, but not unbearably so, although Rebecca had a feeling she wouldn’t notice the temperature even if she was standing in the center of the sun. She was with Nigel, and little else mattered.
He sat next to her, on a low stone wall, his arm around her. She could feel the steady beat of his heart and breathe in the familiar scent of him. It had been so long, she thought, both thrilled and apprehensive about his presence. Too long.
“The whole sky is different,” he said, staring up at the clear night. “The stars. It’s freaky.”
“It’s a different hemisphere. Besides, you should be happy to see any stars at all. This is L.A. We don’t get to see the sky very often.”
“Then I’ll enjoy the view down here.” He leaned in and kissed her. “Hey, Becca Blue.”
She could so easily get lost in him. She’d done it a thousand times, giving up everything about herself in the effort to please him. Then it got to be too much, and she had to leave. The first time, she’d run clear to Italy. He’d found her, and she’d succumbed again.
And so it had been, through nearly a decade of loving and wanting, pulling back and then missing him. Until finally she’d been ready to let him win her once and for all. She’d been willing to say the words he told her he needed to hear. That she loved him. That she would marry him. That had been six months ago. Three days later he’d arrived in Italy and told her he was marrying Ariel.
Now he angled toward her and cupped her face in his hands. “God, I miss you,” he said, his voice low and tempting. “I can’t go an hour without thinking about you. I made a mistake marrying Ariel. I know that now. You’re the one for me; you always have been.”
The words eased pain in places she hadn’t realized hurt. They made her want to fly and dance and sing. Everything about her life had been off—black-and-white in a world of color. Everyone had been happy but her. Without Nigel, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t create. But with him, she could do anything.
He leaned in and kissed her. Just a light touch at first, then deeply. His tongue plunged into her mouth.
After months of feeling nothing, of being dead inside, she came to life with a burst of passion. Hunger burned as blood raced through her. For the first time in weeks, she was alive and aching for a man. No. Not a man. For Nigel. Always Nigel.
She clamped her lips around his tongue and sucked. He responded by groaning, and the sound ripped through to her heart. They reached for each other.
She wore a short, sleeveless dress. He found the zipper and jerked it down. She pushed the fabric to her waist, he unfastened her bra. Then his mouth was on her breasts. He licked and teased, before biting on the very tips of her nipples, just the way she liked. Between her legs she swelled in anticipation. The need was so desperate, she parted her thighs, then dropped her hand to begin rubbing herself. The thin layer of her thong got in the way, and she pulled it off.
Nigel straightened. “Pull up your dress,” he demanded.
A shiver of excitement rippled through her. She did as he asked, then opened her legs wide and once again found her swollen center. Her gaze locked with his, she circled the spot, moving faster and harder, her breath coming in pants.
It took only a few seconds, then she was coming for the first time in months. She forced herself to keep her eyes open, to let him watch her experience her release. He fumbled with the belt on his trousers, unfastened the zipper, pulled out his hard dick, and shoved it into her.
She welcomed him with a moan. After wrapping her legs around his hips, she hung on for the ride as he pumped in and out of her.
The fast and steady pace was familiar, as was the man. She was close again in seconds, crying out her need, begging him not to stop.
“Never,” he promised.
On the verge of her second climax, she heard a sound and opened her eyes. Jonathan stood in the shadows, staring at her. His face was a mask of intense loathing. Then Nigel thrust in again, and she screamed out her release. Her eyes sank closed as pure liquid pleasure poured through her. She came and came, as if making up for all the times she hadn’t while they’d been apart. She barely noticed when Nigel finished. When she opened her eyes again, Jonathan was gone.
Good. Let him think about all the times he’d been unable to please her. It was what he deserved.
Nigel stepped back. She pulled up the top of her dress. Her bra was somewhere, but she wasn’t worried about it. He finished dressing and bent down to pick up her thong.
She shook her head. “Let the gardener toss it.”
Nigel grinned. “I’ll keep it then. As a memento.” He shoved it into his pocket, then took her hand and drew her to her feet. “Come back to me.”
The last bit of her world righted itself. “What about Ariel?”
