Naked Hope (27 page)

“Beast,” she accused, her eyes flashing.

He tightened his grip on her hair. “Me pretty,” he rumbled, biting the lobe of her ear before dragging his mouth across her lips. With his teeth, he pulled at her lip and drew it into his mouth.

Her knees give way and she parted her lips.

He seized the opportunity and bent her to the side in a deep kiss, his hand traveling up under her skirt until it rested low on her hip.

“Me pretty,” he growled a second time as his hand explored the splendid curve of her backside, and slipped beneath her panties. He dipped her a second time and then imprisoned her against the wall, lodging his knee between her legs while his hands roamed her breasts. “Show me,” he murmured into her ear.

She chuckled and pushed him away.

“Show me,” he demanded.

“Show you what? That when I do this to you…” She placed her hand between his legs and massaged his obvious need. “You do this to me?” She guided his hand to her own need, slick with welcome. “What will you do now, Bluebeard?”

He gripped her backside. She circled her legs around his waist. He pinned her against the wall with his hips, and ripped open her shirt. Buttons flew like missiles. Time stopped as he stared, appreciating the way her nipples poked through the champagne-colored lace. With expert fingers, he flicked open the front closure. Her breasts sprang free. He feasted on her nakedness, his need mounting as it pressed against her body.

“Mine,” he murmured, taking one of her nipples deep into his mouth.

Moaning, she pushed her body hard against him.

Her moans drove him as he raked his teeth across her, his thumb pressing against her wetness. Without releasing her nipple, he loosened his clothing, freeing himself, yanked her panties to the side and entered her with such force, the air rushed out of her lungs.

She shrieked on impact and demanded, “More, Bluebeard.”

Over and over, he drove into her, his tongue deep inside her mouth. He felt her expand and shatter a moment before he did.

They remained unmoving, leaning against the wall for support until she kissed the side of his neck. “Call me slow but I now understand your poker reference.” She brushed her lips lightly across his. “An effective code word. A bit distracting perhaps…”

He grinned. “I excel at poker.”

“No argument there. Now, how about we get out of here before they arrest us?”

“Arrest us?”
What the—arrest them?

She chuckled. “They turn cameras on at night.”

He snatched her shirt closed. “You didn’t think to tell me this before?”

She nuzzled his temple. “When you’re being all piratey, I struggle to remember anything. But they’re not on yet.”

“How do you know?”

She pointed to a discreetly mounted camera. “Because a little red light shows when the camera’s on. We’re in the clear.”

Gavin shrugged out of his sport coat. “You’re missing a few buttons. Put this on.”

They walked the short distance through the glass-encased skyways to Jill’s loft without speaking, their hands finding each other as if they had a language of their own.

Once inside, she drew her thumb over his lips and lifted her head for more of his kisses.

His hands tangled once again in her hair and his lips returned her kiss with slow, deliberate movements. As if they had forever. “You know what I’d like?” His hands locked at the base of her spine.

She looked upward, wide-eyed.

“I’d like some ice.”

She tossed her hair. “You’re thirsty?”

“The ice is for you.”

“But I don’t want anything to drink right now.”

“The water is not for drinking,” he assured, sliding his hand down the back of her skirt.

“No?” she inquired, slipping out of his jacket. Her shirt gaped.

He caught sight of softly rounded white skin nestled in lace. “But first I’m going to strip you.” He brushed open her shirt and dragged it slowly off her arms. the garment coasted to the floor. He stepped back and leaned his shoulder against the wall crossing his feet. “You do the rest. Start by taking off your bra.”

She turned her back to him and swiveled her hips. “You sure that’s what you want?”

He said nothing.

She made a graceful pirouette and waited, hands over her breasts.

Without moving, he intoned, “I’m waiting.”

She released her breasts, tossed her hair, and opened the front clasp of her bra, unveiling first one breast and then the other.

His smile came slow as she let her bra fall to the floor. “Your breasts could be compared to a great literary work.”

She blushed.

He smiled. Warmth crept into his words. “Do your hair, next. Twist it up.”

“I thought you didn’t like my hair up.”

“This is not about your hair. It’s about the way your body moves. If I were painter, I’d paint you half-dressed just like you are.”

She smiled, separated her hair into three parts and twisted it into a loose braid. Twisting the braid, she pulled the long hairclip from the waistband of her skirt, and secured it in a knot behind her left ear. “Next?”

With a crook of a finger, he beckoned her over. “Come here.”

He watched her move with the sensual grace of a cat.

“You are a cat woman,” he breathed, invading her mouth.

She surrendered easily.

Suddenly, he flipped her, one arm across her breasts and the other holding her face sideways, pinning her back against his chest. He kissed the corner of her mouth, lifted her breasts, and bent over her shoulder to brush his tongue over one of her nipples. “Are the panties you’re wearing one of your favorites?”

On a sigh, she shivered. “Why?”

“Because unless you tell me not to, I’m ripping them off.” He waited.

She said nothing, but her breathing turned ragged.

His fingers tore at the flimsy fabric. They ripped easily away from her body. He patted her skirt back into place, kissing the side of her neck, one hand working her nipple while the other slipped into the soft folds between her legs.

She mewled and fell back against him.

“You’re ready for the ice now,” he whispered. “If I let go, can you keep your balance?”

She nodded and tottered away toward the kitchen.

He followed, watching her every movement. While she held the glass against the icemaker, he unzipped her skirt and eased it off her body. “I’ll take that,” he said, setting down the glass on the counter. He placed the sink stopper in the drain, turned on the water, and let it run, adding soap as the water climbed. He placed her hand in the sudsy water. “How’s the temperature?”

“Lovely.” She smiled, her eyes heavy with anticipation.

He picked her up by the waist and eased her into the waiting water, his mouth closing around a breast. “I will eat you until you cry for mercy,” he promised, moving greedily from one eager nipple to the other. His hands worked beneath her, washing away the remains of their earlier lovemaking, relishing the feel of this softest part of her body.

He lifted her out of the sink, announcing, “Time for a rinse.” He drained the sink and refilled it with clear, warm water. Once again, he lifted her into the warm water, his fingers exploring every part of her while his mouth captured her tongue. When he’d rinsed her, he reached over, popped a partially melted ice cube into his mouth and slid it languidly over her nipples, down her belly and let it drop into the warm water, reveling in the way her body thrilled to his every touch.

He spread her legs until her high heels rested on either side of the sink, exposing her sex. His shaft pulsed and he bent and guzzled her with the flat of his chilled tongue, lapping and sucking until she screamed her pleasure. But he didn’t stop, he merely paused, unable to get enough of her heady scent. He swirled his tongue and bit softly, tasting and creating a kind of suction that, judging by her shrieks and the shudders of her body, was more than satisfactory.

In that moment, he made a silent vow to give her everything

this woman who believed in him, despite his recklessness. Despite the fact that he didn’t deserve her. Despite the fact that he never would.

****

The next morning, instead of Gavin, Jill found a note on the pillow.

Jillian,

You were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t have the heart to wake you. I’m off to Chicago today but tomorrow is Thanksgiving. In the morning, I’ll pick you up for dinner with the family.

Love, G.

PS: You’re beautiful when you sleep.

Jill eased herself out of bed, grateful for her Jacuzzi.
Her body felt replete and desperate for a hot soak.

****

Heading the weekly faculty and staff meeting agenda were the words, “Wilson Annual Fundraiser Gala, February 14, Valentine’s Day”. Her mind wandered to thoughts of Gavin, unaware that she’d emitted several sighs. Board president, John Roberts, glanced her way and frowned. She forced her attention back to the subject at hand.

“As you know, our annual fundraising event is critical to salaries, contract renewal, and other budget items.” John paused to give them all a meaningful look. “That's why we always make such a point of asking for the involvement of each of you. So it behooves me to call your attention to the date. This year, we’re holding the fundraiser on Valentine’s Day, and the theme is to be a rather,” he cleared his throat, “romantic one, I believe. I’m sure you’ll all clear your calendars to ensure your attendance and to support this very important cause.” He stopped to clear this throat again.

“As I was saying, I sent an email last week announcing that Edith Fairfield, grandmother of one of our students, volunteered to chair the event and contribute her considerable talents and social connections. Since then, she’s confirmed her son, the Maestro Fairfield, has agreed to be our entertainment headliner. With high profile entertainment like this, donations and silent auction bidding should be greatly improved over previous years. But as they say, it’s not over until it’s over and so I want to remind each of you to volunteer. With your help, I’m confident this year’s fundraising gala will be everything it can be. Mark February 14
th
on your calendar if you haven’t already. This year’s theme is ‘give with your heart’.”

He cleared his throat and looked at Jill. “Mrs. Fairfield informs me while a great deal of the foundation for the gala has been laid, if we’re to be ready in time, she needs a co-chair

”

Ross interrupted, tapping his watch. “John, we’re running a little long on time. Let me wrap this up by underscoring John’s comments. We need volunteers so don’t hesitate to drop by or send me an email.” He then looked at Jill. “Got a minute?”

Jill repressed a sigh of frustration as she glanced at her watch. “Sure, but I was on my way out the door. I’m off to the spa for a little relaxation and girl time. Will this discussion be quick?”

“My office. I'll be there in a moment.”

When Ross joined her a full ten minutes later, his somewhat disheveled appearance told her he'd had a devil of a time, whatever he’d been doing.

“Sorry, about the delay. Roberts caught me and you know how that can go.” He grinned. “I wanted to talk to you about the gala. Mrs. Fairfield has what promises to be a fantastic idea and she wants you—”

“Whoa. Stop right there.” She raised her hand. “You’ve got to be joking. Our clinical trial is taking up almost all of my time right now. I can’t possibly get involved in planning the gala.”

He tipped back in his chair and sighed. “Work it out, Jill because I’ve already committed you.”

“I’ve been chair two of the last five years. I’ve done my time, and you
know
how much is riding on our trial. Tell me why this is falling on me.”

“Because Mrs. Fairfield wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

****

Gage turned on the ignition. “You cut it a little close, but we can still make it. Since I was in charge of making the arrangements, I thought trying out that new health spa would be fun—you know,
Zenful Springs
. They’re having their grand opening. A colleague of mine went earlier this week and she couldn’t stop raving about the place.”

Jill closed her eyes. “You’re in charge. As long as there’s wine and pasta afterward, you can take me just about anywhere.”

Gage’s voice warmed. “That’s one of the best parts. They give you complimentary champagne while you soak your toes.”

Jill locked her seatbelt into place, leaned back, and stretched. “Perfect.”

Inside
Zenful Springs,
the air held a hint of sandalwood, lavender, and something earthier, like bark. Wind chimes and chanting monks played in the background. The staff talked in hushed tones—their movements languid, their voices dusky and reverent. A large fountain bubbled in the center of the room. Jill couldn’t resist dipping her fingers into the cool water as she passed.

One of the staff members greeted them. “Have you been here before, ladies?”

“No,” they murmured, already subdued into a near-trancelike state.

“Well then, as part of our grand opening, welcome.” She handed each of them thick white terrycloth robes the color of fresh snow, edged with a green border. The robes had been pre-warmed.

Jill pressed the robe to her cheek and drew a deep breath, pulling warmth into her lungs. The staff member smiled as if she were guarding an important secret.

“This is just the beginning, ladies. I’ll take you back. Terri and Merri are your estheticians. Many services are specially priced this week. Don’t hesitate if you see something you’d like to try.”

She led them through a door and introduced them to Terri and Merri, both of whom wore
you’re-going-to-love-this
smiles that suggested they were prepared to be indulgent while Jill and Gage experienced for themselves the wonder of
Zenful Springs
.

Terri, Jill’s esthetician, asked, “Any special reason you’re here?”

Gage giggled and pointed to Jill. “We’re here because of her. She has a hot date for Thanksgiving.”

Jill rolled her eyes. “I’m not sure Thanksgiving and hot date belong in the same sentence.”

Terri offered a reassuring nod. “You’ve come to the right place. After you’ve changed into your robes, come and choose a color.” She waved her hand toward a library of carousels filled with nail polish. “When you’ve done that, get comfortable in the chairs—enjoy the view. Merri and I will bring basins of hot water for soaking your feet while we work on your hands.” She splashed champagne into tall clear glasses.