Betting on Julia (A Melville Sisters Novel) (Entangled Covet) (9 page)

He lowered himself over her, so she felt him all the way along her spine, his teeth finding the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. He bit down and his cock swelled, and he gave one last thrust and came inside her.

For a minute, they both remained in place while his shaft pulsated, and then he collapsed beside her onto the bed and pulled her into the curve of his body, one hand cupping her breast, the other still lodged between her thighs.

He nuzzled her neck, licking the skin. “Christ, that was good.”

“The best.” And it was, she’d never felt so connected, so replete. At peace for what seemed like the first time in months. The first time since…

And not even a whisper from
Thing.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he slowly pulled out of her.

A shiver of pleasure ran through her, followed by an ache. “Maybe a little sore, but it was worth it.”

“I’ll be back.” He pushed himself up and headed out the door.

The sound of running water came from the bathroom. Julia rolled onto her back and watched as he came back out and stalked toward the bed.

He was magnificent. She’d been out with some good-looking guys, but nothing close to Sebastian. Seeing him like this, it was hard to think mild-mannered accountant.

Even totally naked, he gave off an aura of confidence. In some ways, he reminded her of the strongest of the pack wolves. The easy roll of his walk, the direct stare from those mesmerizing green eyes, the loose way his hands swung at his side. And he had a very unaccountant-like tattoo, some sort of Celtic design over his right breast, the ink stark as if new.

She allowed her gaze to drift down over him and exhaled. From his broad shoulders, sleek, muscular chest, down over his ridged abdomen, he was stunning. And lower, to where the narrow line of black hair flared out at his groin. As she stared, his dick twitched in response, filling, growing. Heat sank down to her sex.

Again.

And she felt herself soften with need, while her nipples hardened. He paused about a foot away and her gaze shot to his face.

He glanced down, his expression rueful. “Just how sore are you?”

She wriggled against the bed and then lay back, balancing on her elbows and smiled up at him. “Not that sore.”

This time he made love to her slowly, face-to-face, his gaze holding hers as he rocked against her. She relaxed into the sensations, letting her pleasure build as he rotated his hips against hers, dropping moist kissed over her breasts, nibbling her throat, her ears, as though to devour her.

When finally the pleasure rolled over her in waves, she was totally boneless, literally unable to move, limp with pleasure.

Usually when she finished making love, she wanted to get up, go make coffee, chat. With Bastian, she would have been happy to lie there forever in the quiet. He felt so right against her. The thought should have worried her. She tried to remember the whole friends-with-benefits thing, but her brain didn’t want to think right now.

In the end, it was Bastian who moved first. He rolled onto his side to face her. “How about I go run you a bath?” he asked. “A nice hot soak and you’ll be as good as new.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she replied. But she had to fight the urge to hold on to him. She wanted him near.

He pushed up and sat on the edge of the bed for a minute.

She stared at the broad expanse of his golden-skinned back. Four parallel scars ran down from his right shoulder to his left hipbone, silvery lines against the gold.

“Jesus, what happened to you?”

He shifted around so he could look at her.

“Your back,” she prompted.

“Oh. It’s nothing. Or rather it’s old. I’d almost forgotten.”

“What happened?”

He shrugged. “I was attacked by a…dog a long time ago.”

As she traced one of the lines with her fingertip, a shudder ran through him. “It must have been a big dog.”

“It was.”

She lowered her head and kissed the scars. “I hate to think about you hurting.”

“It doesn’t. Not anymore.” He pushed himself to his feet, and she admired the view as he walked away. He had a great ass.

She bunched the pillow up behind her head and lay back while she waited. He came back after a couple of minutes. “You want a drink or something?”

“There’s white wine in the fridge,” she said. She supposed she should get up and act like a hostess, but she felt too at peace and she liked the sound of him moving around her little house.

He came back—still naked, took the wine into the bathroom, and returned for her. Without a word, he scooped her up and carried her through, lowering her into the water.

He’d lit the candles that were scattered around the room and poured the wine.

Julia’s tub was a big old-fashioned, freestanding monstrosity, with taps in the middle and plenty of room for two. Once she was settled, he slipped into the side opposite, so their legs mingled in the middle. He handed her a glass and relaxed back.

Perfect.

Why couldn’t she have this? Bastian didn’t want anything more; she could find some excuse to be away from him during her monthly problem. If
Thing
continued to remain quiet outside the full moon, she could see no reason why she couldn’t have her nice, normal life for the rest of the time.

With her nice, normal accountant friend.

A little niggle of doubt tried to struggle to the surface of her sex-drugged brain. She didn’t want doubts. This was perfect. Nice and normal.

But gazing at Bastian lounging in the water opposite her, she couldn’t help but consider that he was definitely not Mr. Average. He was beyond handsome, with an innate sensuality bordering on overload. His head rested back against the bathtub, his skin gleamed with moisture, his lids were half-closed, and he was watching her out of those startling eyes. Maybe they were contact lenses. But she didn’t think so. They were so intense, focused on her, and the air shivered as though something strange shifted between them.

Then he smiled and the spell was broken. She glanced away, banished the niggle, and took a sip of wine.

This was a perfect arrangement and as close to normal as she was ever going to get. She needed to not go out of her way to fuck it up.

She raised her glass. “To friends with benefits.”

He hesitated a second, before raising his own. “Friends with benefits.”

…

Bastian woke the following morning with the sunlight filtering through the heavy brocade curtains. He’d fallen asleep after the sixth or seventh time they had made love. He couldn’t remember the last time he had actually slept with a woman. It would have been his wife, and that would mean it was over two hundred years ago.

But it felt right. He needed to make the most of moments like this while Dante was quiet. Though if he succeeded, if he won the bet, this would be his life. No more demon. No more battling the dark desires.

Julia liked him. He knew she did. Somehow, he needed to translate that liking into loving. A little twinge of guilt nudged him at the thought but he pushed it aside.

She was spooned against him, all soft and warm and cuddly, her blond curls tickling his nose, her breast filing his palm. He was hard again and he edged back. She must be sore. Time to show his “sensitive guy” side. Maybe offer to kiss her better. Come to think about it, he was a little sore himself. Perhaps they could kiss each other better.

Leaning over her, he nipped her earlobe, and her lids shot open. “Good morning.” He nuzzled her neck where the skin was so soft.

She blinked a couple of times, wriggled against him, then rolled over and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him. Then she went still and her eyes opened, she glanced around the room. “It’s daylight,” she said.

“Yes.”

“And it’s Monday morning and I have an early interview. Crap.” Flattening her palms against him, she shoved him away, then jumped naked from the bed. “Oh my God, I’m going to be so late.”

She ran into the bathroom, slammed the door. It reopened a second later and her head peeped out. “Good morning,” she said and closed the door again.

He found himself grinning at the door. He might not allow himself to love her, but he liked Julia Melville, and that was an emotion he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

Chapter Nine

A promise was a promise.

Three nights of mad, passionate
, no-holds-barred-absolutely-fantastic sex with Bastian, and not even a whimper from
Thing.
So true to her word, Wednesday evening, Julia was flicking through the internet, while she waited for Sebastian to get home from the office, trying to choose
Thing
an alternative name. One that worked for both of them.

She was currently going through the “200 best werewolf names” on the I Love Werewolves website.

It occurred to her as she worked that
Thing
was always there, just most of the time she chose to stay quiet. Only when she was bothered did she make her presence known. Like when Julia proposed Bardolph as a suitable alternative to
Thing
. That had hurt.

“Adawolfa? It means noble she-wolf—but a bit of a mouthful. How about Dib, Dolph, or Dolphus?” she suggested.

All she got was the faint echo of a growl.

“Randi? No perhaps not.” She scanned the list again. She needed something not too short, not too long. Her gaze snagged on a name. “Got it,” she said. “Leloo? Apparently, it’s Chinook for wolf. Leloo, Leloo, Leloo. I like it.”

At first, it looked like she wasn’t going to get a response. Then she felt a soft brush of fur against her insides.
Thing
was wagging her tail. Not
Thing
, Leloo. Looked like they had a result. “Just don’t get snippy if I forget now and again. You’ve been
Thing
a long time.”

The doorbell rang, and she jumped to her feet. Was it too early to give Bastian a key? Probably. Okay, make that definitely. She didn’t want to move too fast and scare him. The friends with benefits was going so well. Maybe too well. She was addicted to the benefits part. Perhaps they should slow down, concentrate on the friends bit tonight. She wasn’t sure she liked the idea—in fact, she knew she didn’t—she hated it. Which only went to emphasize the trouble she was in.

She pulled open the front door, dragged him inside, and he was kissing her before the door shut behind him. When he raised his head, they were both breathing heavily, her nipples were tight, and that familiar pulse throbbed between her thighs. Yeah, she was in trouble. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to back away.

“I thought we might go out tonight,” she said. “Do something friendly and…fun together.”

“Fun?” Bastian sounded as if he had no clue what the word meant.

“Yeah. You know the sort of thing friends do together. A fun thing. You can choose.”

For a second, panic flared on his face. His brows drew together as he thought, but nothing came out of his mouth. Was it so hard?

“Don’t you have any hobbies, anything you like to do?” she asked taking pity on him.

His gaze dropped to linger on her breasts and then lower. Everything clenched inside her. Yeah, she liked doing that as well. A lot.

But no. She would not be a slave to her body. They were going out and they were going to have fun tonight…if it killed her. “Apart from sex,” she said.

He ran a hand through his hair. “Shit. I’m boring aren’t I? Melanie was right.”

“No she wasn’t. You’ve obviously just been focused on your career. But don’t worry—the fun starts here.”

Another flash of panic.

It looked like it was up to her to plan the outing. So what could they do together? “Aha.”

“Aha?”

“Indoor climbing. You know where they build a sort of fake mountain in a gym and you…climb it.”

His brows drew together. “Why?”

“For fun of course.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he said. “I’m afraid of heights.”

“Don’t worry. It’s perfectly safe, and I’ll look after you.”

The gym was walking distance from the house. She gave him five minutes to change into jeans and a sweater and they were off. They held hands on the way, like a couple, but she brushed aside the flicker of unease. She liked touching him and had to force herself to let go when they reached their destination.

The climbing walls were inside a huge, cavernous room. There were only a few other people using the equipment and she spotted the supervisor quickly.

“Hi, Seth,” she said.

“Julia, I didn’t think we would see you again. After that last injury you swore never to return.”

She grinned. “I broke a fingernail,” she told Bastian, then turned back to Seth. “I couldn’t keep away. This is my friend Bastian. It’s his first time. We’re just going to stick to the beginners’ wall.”

Seth handed them helmets and harnesses and Julia fastened her own and then helped Bastian put his on. The harness wrapped around his waist and thighs, with webbing straps joining them, emphasizing the bulge at his groin. And if she lingered a little too long tightening the buckles, then she just wanted to make sure he was safe.

“Wow, that’s kind of hot,” he said as she stepped back.

“No ‘kind of’ about it,” she replied eyeing him up and only just resisting the urge to fan herself. Instead, she turned her attention to the wall. It actually looked nothing like a mountain. Vertical, off-white, and dotted with multicolored handholds.

Beside her, Bastian was looking at the wall as well, his expression dubious. Could he really be scared of heights?

“So you do this a lot?” he asked. “Are you good at it?”

“No, I’m total crap. My sister Marcy climbs real mountains, like every weekend—totally weird—and she’s dragged me along here a few times. But apparently, I lack upper-body strength and lower-body strength and the inclination to do anything about it.”

It occurred to her that that was very likely no longer the case. She could probably just about fly up that wall, but that would give things away a little. She’d have to be careful she didn’t show Sebastian up.

“Come on, we’ll climb side by side. I’ll keep you safe.”

“You’ll catch me if I fall?”

“Well, maybe not that.” She fastened their harness to the hanging ropes. “But this will catch you,” she said. “But you won’t fall. Even I didn’t fall.”

As she’d suspected, the climb was no effort. She kept her pace slow and glanced sideways at Bastian. His eyes were narrowed in concentration. He peered at the ground and his lips tightened. It was only a few feet away. “There’s all sorts of special handholds,” she said to distract him. “Marcy gave me this huge lecture, loads of long words like belaying and rappelling, but I’ve forgotten what they mean. And really you don’t need them for the baby wall.”

They were halfway up now, the ground around twenty feet below them. Bastian’s face was pale, his expression fixed. She pulled herself up to the next handhold. This was easy.

“So tell me all about yourself, Bastian.”

His gaze slid sideways. “Now?”

“Take your mind off things. Say…what’s your favorite TV show of all time?”

“Are you trying to distract me?”

“Yes. Mine’s
Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Or maybe
Doctor Who
.”

“I don’t watch much TV.”

“Okay no hobbies and no TV.” She glanced around the gym for inspiration. It was only a couple of weeks to Christmas and there was a huge tree in the corner decorated with twinkling lights. “Favorite thing about Christmas?”

His face was blank, as though he didn’t know what the word meant.

“You know the birth of baby Jesus and…Santa, presents and food and family.” She loved Christmas.

“I don’t have any family.”

That was so sad. She wanted to hug him, tell him this year he would have a family, because he was coming home with her. Tell him he’d never be alone again, that she’d be his family. The thought stopped her cold. So much for “friends.”

Yes, she was in trouble. But halfway up a wall was not the time to think about it. Maybe she needed distracting as well. “Favorite food?” she asked. Everybody ate.

“Steak, rare, bloody.”

“Mine’s ice cream or chocolate or cheese or maybe pizza or…”

Looking a little green now, he peered down the gap between them and closed his eyes for a moment. When they opened he looked at her imploringly. “Take me home, Julia. I promise I’ll be good. Whatever I did to deserve this—I’m sorry. You don’t need to punish me anymore. Please don’t make me have any more fun.”

He looked so mournful that she giggled. Was still giggling as she reached for the next handhold and her fingers slipped on the plastic. She forgot what she was and the fingers of her other hand tightened. The plastic cracked, then snapped, pulling clear of the wall.

As she started to fall, Bastian moved with almost inhuman speed, swinging sideways and grasping her arm. For a minute, he held her and stopped her from falling with an ease that shouldn’t have been possible. Then his gaze met hers, his grip loosened, and she was falling.

All of about two feet before the rope snapped taut.

Above her, Bastian was hanging from one hand, and then he let go and fell the two feet to hang beside her.

A little doubt niggled at the back of her mind. The way he had moved, the strength in his grip until he’d come to his senses. Then he’d let her go.

“Oh God,” he muttered, “get me down. I want to go home.”

She giggled again and the doubt was pushed aside.

Bastian gave her a rueful smile. “You know,” he said, “I think balance sheets are more my thing.”

Yeah, she was imagining things. There was nothing unnatural about Bastian. He was an accountant.

They swung gently from the harnesses, hips bumping into each other. She slid her hand into his. “Let’s go home. Have some fun there.” They’d cuddle on the sofa, watch some Buffy, eat chocolate…make love.

“Sounds like a plan.”

…

Two days later and Bastian still hadn’t been able to banish that moment of mind-blowing fear from his head. The moment she had fallen.

His reaction had been instinctive; his only thought to save her. He hadn’t even considered what his actions would reveal. He’d actually told her the truth—he was scared of heights, but that particular fact had fled his mind the second Julia was in danger.

Sebastian to the rescue.

Dante would have laughed.

Except of course she hadn’t been in any danger.

He was pretty sure he’d covered up his mistake. She appeared to have accepted his “pathetic accountant” comment at face value. He’d found people were usually willing to overlook what they couldn’t understand.

Now, lying in Julia’s pretty pink-and-white bedroom, he tried to tell himself that it was a momentary aberration. He didn’t quite manage to convince himself, and he pulled her closer and spooned her body against his. It was after midnight and time to make a move. They’d seen each other every evening this week. Even when he’d tried, he hadn’t been able to stay away. But he’d always gone back to his own place. It was his way of proving he could.

These last few days had been the happiest he could remember. Of course part of that was Dante’s absence, but more of it was this woman sleeping so trustingly in his arms.

He couldn’t get enough of her body, but he also enjoyed her company, talking with her, just holding her close. And that was worrying. He needed to finish the bet and fast because in one more day, Dante would return. At the thought, his arms tightened around her. Once Dante was back, what were his chances? Zero, he was guessing. So he had to do this sooner rather than later. He knew Julia was coming to care for him.

Maybe he needed to do something, some gesture to shift her feelings over into love. She’d wanted to go out the other night, and while he wasn’t ready for any more “fun,” maybe there was something else they could do together.

A candlelit dinner at a romantic restaurant? A really expensive, exclusive, romantic restaurant.

He nuzzled her neck, then bit down gently to wake her. She mumbled, wriggled, pushing her hips against him, then settled back into sleep.

“Wake up, Julia.” He gave her shoulder a little shake. “I have to go and I want to talk to you first.”

The tension in her body told him she was awake. “Why do you have to go?”

He ignored the question because he didn’t have an answer, or not one he was willing to give her. “Look, I’m signing a new client at work tomorrow. Would you like to come out and celebrate with me afterward? My treat.”

She pulled away a little and rolled over so she was facing him. Her eyes were dark and sleepy, and a smile tugged at her lips. “I’d love to.”

“Good. I’ll book a table for tomorrow at eight.” He made to sit up, but her hands slid up over his chest, pushing him back down and somehow she was straddling him, leaning down over him, kissing him…

His dick jumped to attention.

Perhaps he didn’t have to go quite yet.

…

Another two days of mind-blowing sex, and still not a flicker from
Thing
or rather from Leloo.

Julia couldn’t remember ever feeling better. She was guessing Daniel had been right. The sex was calming her. Well, when she wasn’t actually in the middle of doing it, it was calming her.

She shifted and flinched a little. While Sebastian had suggested a no-penetration night to give her a chance to recover—he was such a sweet guy—up until now, she’d needed him inside her. But maybe they should give it a go. She licked her lips and wondered if she had any ice cream in the freezer. Nice and soothing and cool and she could…

The doorbell rang, and she hurried down the hall.

That would have to be for later because tonight Bastian was taking her out to a swanky restaurant in the center of town, and she’d dressed accordingly in a little black dress that skimmed her thighs and hugged her curves. The only flash of color in her outfit were her black-and-fuchsia Manolo Blahniks—her fuck-me shoes as Lissa called them. And underneath the dress, the underwear Sebastian had bought her to replace the panties he’s ripped off in the alley.

When she opened the door, it was to find him equally resplendent in a dark gray suit, white shirt open at the throat. She leaned in to kiss him, breathed in the sharp scent of aftershave and hot man, and nearly pulled him into the hallway for a quickie. The table would wait.

Then she glanced over his shoulder. A taxi stood on the curb, engine running, and she gave Bastian another peck on the cheek—because she really had to—and grabbed her coat.