PLAYING DIRTY WITH THE HOT CEO

chapter 26

Titus clears his throat, and my face grows hot. For the first time, I feel a touch of shame that we’re deceiving this family. If we’d known how nice they all were I don’t think we would have done it, but it’s too late to tell them now.

It’s nearing nine o’clock, and a few people come up to say they’re calling it a day, and want to say goodbye to us both. Gradually over the next half an hour the business people depart, and eventually it’s just the members of Alan’s family who remain—his daughters and their husbands.

The temperature is dropping a little now the sun has set, so we move into the conservatory, and we spend another hour chatting to them over coffee, nibbling from a plate of beautiful small desserts that the waiter brings around: tiny cheesecakes and mini chocolate eclairs you can eat in one bite.

As it gets close to ten o’clock, Carrie and John finally say they’re going to make a move, and Titus says, “Yes, I think it’s time for us to head back.”

“Would you like us to drop you off?” Carrie asks.

Titus looks at me, but I shake my head. “I’m happy to walk,” I say, and he agrees.

We all head to the front door, and we shake hands with them all and tell them we look forward to seeing them at the murder-mystery evening tomorrow.

“Thank you so much,” Alan says to Titus. “You were fantastic, and you’ve impressed everyone.”

“I’ve had a great time,” Titus replies.

“I’ll call for you around eleven tomorrow for fishing?” Alan says.

Titus nods. “Sounds great.”

“Here,” Vicky says, “take this,” and she hands him a torch. “The path is lit with solar lamps, but just in case.”

“Thanks.” We wave goodbye, then head out of the door and cross the gravel drive to the pathway behind the trees.

As we walk, we hear the cars departing, and then they disappear into the distance. The air fills with the sound of the countryside at night—the hoot of a tawny owl, the rattle of grasshoppers, the light snuffling of a hedgehog in the grass, and the call of a bird, maybe a nightingale or a skylark.

As Vicky promised, the path is lit every few feet by solar lamps pressed into the grass, and the moon is three-quarters full too, so Titus doesn’t switch on the torch.

We walk quietly, listening to the nighttime sounds. I feel tongue-tied, acutely conscious of the man beside me. Every now and then I can smell his aftershave, heated by his warmed skin, and my fingers tingle where his hand is still holding mine.

I flex my hand in his. “Nobody’s watching now,” I say softly.

“Don’t care,” he says, and he interlinks our fingers.

My pulse picks up speed at his words. He likes touching me.

I’m pretty sure he wants me. I can feel his desire in the air, sparkling between us, a manifestation of the magical evening. I’m filled with a deep longing, an overwhelming hunger for this gorgeous guy.

“You were amazing this evening,” I tell him.

“Ah,” he says, embarrassed, “don’t.”

“I mean it. I’m so proud of you.”

He squeezes my hand as we reach the edge of the trees and pass by the Range Rover. “That’s a nice thing to say.”

“You were so knowledgeable. It was really impressive.” I take a deep breath. “And very sexy.” I stop walking. Titus pauses, then turns to face me.

We study each other for a long time. My heart hammers, and my mouth has gone dry. His eyes gleam in the moonlight. The air between us seems to crackle with electricity.

He doesn’t move, though. Is he thinking about the fact that my brother said he could trust him? Rebelliousness flares inside me. We’re young, and we’re single—why shouldn’t we get together? It’s nobody else’s business.

I don’t want him to turn me down, but one of us has to make the move, and I know he’s fighting with his principles. It’s going to have to be me. f*****g hell, Heidi, just go for it. What have I got to lose? My dignity? I think I lost that with him when I was sixteen and asked him if he’d like to kiss me.

Mind you, it worked then…

My pulse racing, I move a bit closer to him, then slide my hands up his chest to hold his lapels. “Do you want me?” I ask, my voice husky with longing.

He looks down at me, his eyelids sliding to half-mast. “You know I do.”

Oh thank God. “I wasn’t sure,” I admit.

“I’ve thought about little else since I arrived at your cottage.” He lifts a hand to stroke my cheek and sighs as if saying it out loud has made it real. “I don’t know what it is… I mean, you’re beautiful, and funny, and intelligent… but it’s not just that. There’s something between us, and every time I try to tell myself there isn’t, it flares up again like a firework.”

“Oh…” I’m so relieved he feels the same way, it almost makes me tearful.

He lifts his other hand and cups my face as he continues, “I’m crazy about you. I know I should be strong and keep my distance, and the last thing I want to do is make things more difficult for you. But I can’t help it. I want you. I’ve never wanted anyone—anything—so badly.”

My breath leaves me in a whoosh. “Kiss me,” I tell him. “Please.”

“Gladly,” he says, and he crushes his lips to mine.

Oh… it’s like I’m sixteen again, as we go from zero to a hundred in the space of about two seconds. Fire flares inside me as he delves his tongue into my mouth, and I moan and slide my hands down his jacket, flicking the buttons open. I feel an overwhelming desire to touch his skin, and I tug his shirt free from his trousers, then slip my fingers beneath it and stroke around his waist to his back.

“Jesus,” he says, “hold on.” He slides the key in the door and unlocks it, and we stumble into the dark house, barely managing to close the door before his mouth is on mine again.

While we kiss, he walks me backward along the hallway to the bedroom, while I slip my hands up his back under his shirt, loving the feel of his warm skin. When I graze my nails down the muscles on either side of his spine, he shudders.

It’s no good; I want to see that tanned, smooth skin and those glorious tattoos. I push his jacket off his shoulders, and he lowers his arms to let it fall to the floor. He hurriedly pulls his tie apart, and it joins the jacket. I set to undoing his shirt buttons, but my fingers fumble, and in the end he rips the sides apart, sending buttons popping off in all directions, bundles the shirt in a ball, and tosses it away. Ooh, he’s naked to the waist now, and even in the semi-darkness his tattoos are clearly visible, snaking down either arm.

He toes off his shoes and flicks off his socks, and I stop to take off my high heels, groaning as I flex my feet. Next he takes off his trousers, and now he’s only wearing a pair of tight black boxer-briefs that leave nothing to the imagination.

Holy moly. Hello, Sir Richard!

Kissing me again, he continues to walk me into the bedroom. It’s warm and a little stuffy in here. “Where’s the air con?” he asks.

“I doubt there will be any. It doesn’t usually warrant it.”

“We’ll just have to get hot and sweaty then,” he murmurs.

“What a shame.”

He chuckles, still moving me backward, over to the sliding doors. The curtains are open, but we haven’t put on the light, and I know nobody’s going to be out there looking in tonight.

He kisses me again, lips searing, sending fireworks shooting off inside me. Oh God, this is really happening. I run my fingers over the defined muscles of his chest, then up to his shoulders and down his arms across his tattoos. I think he’s used these magical runes to cast a love spell on me. I feel bewitched, entranced by his hot, damp skin and his fiery kisses.

“Do you have a zipper?” he murmurs, lifting his head, and I nod, turning around to show him. I feel his fingers at the nape of my neck, and then he slides down the zipper and pushes the lace shoulders of the dress off my shoulders. It falls to the floor in a rustle of material, and I step out of it.

While I’m still facing away from him, he moves me forward a few steps until I’m up against the sliding doors to the terrace, and I place my hands on the glass. I have a few seconds to register the beauty of the view, seeing where moonlight has turned the river into a sheet of silver, and then my eyes flutter closed as he rests his hands on my hips.

I’m braless and wearing only a pair of black lacy knickers and my sheer black thigh highs. He runs his hands over the lace stretched across my bottom, then follows the dip of my waist and the line of my ribs. Finally, he cups my breasts in his big, warm hands.

Tipping my head back on his shoulder, I sigh. He groans as he brushes his thumbs over my n*****s, teasing them. Slowly, they tighten into firm buttons that he then tugs with his thumbs and forefingers.

Feeling an answering pull deep inside, I turn in his arms and lift up to kiss him, sliding my hands into his hair.

“I’m trying to go slowly,” he says huskily, kissing up my jaw to my ear, “but you’re not making it easy.”

“Good.” I shiver as he sucks my earlobe.

He lifts his head. “I want to be gentle with you.”

“You mean because of what I said about Jason?”

He nods.

I hesitate. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t mind if you’re not gentle. It’s not about that. I don’t mind it… you know… passionate. But Jason… he used to…” I bite my lip. “He verged on violence,” I admit. “It’s very different. He didn’t like women, I don’t think, and he took it out on me.”

Titus’s smile fades, and his eyes harden. He runs his tongue over his top teeth, and I’m pretty sure he’s trying to stop himself jumping in the car and driving straight down to give Jason the beating of his life.

But in the end his expression softens, and he takes my face in his hands. “I told you a man should always treat his girl like a princess, and I meant it.” He tips his head to the side. “Or maybe like a countess.” His lips curve up.

I open my mouth to say something, but I don’t get a chance, because he kisses me again. His lips slant across mine, his tongue plunging into my mouth, and my heart hammers. I thought his previous kiss was passionate, but this time he doesn’t hold back, and fire shoots through me, while an ache begins deep inside.

He bends, tucks his hands beneath my bottom, and picks me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist. Still kissing me, he climbs onto the bed, then lowers me onto my back. He kisses my mouth, then begins planting kisses down my neck and across my collarbone.

I’m carried away on a wave of pleasure and happiness as he continues kissing down to my breasts, then stops there to cover each n****e with his mouth and tease them with his tongue until they’re tight and hard. Only then does he continue down over my belly, moving backwards until he’s kneeling between my legs.

Hooking his fingers in the elastic of my underwear, he peels it down my thighs, and I lift my legs so he can take it off. He smooths his hands over my thigh highs with an appreciative murmur, then pushes my legs apart, exposing me to his hot gaze.

I cover my face with my hands as he kisses the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, and then he strokes a thumb up through my folds, and groans. I’m so turned on, I know he’s found me swollen and wet.

“Heidi,” is all he mutters, before he lowers down, licks up through my folds, and circles the tip of his tongue over my c**t.

“Ohhh…” I arch my spine, shuddering at the wave of pleasure. “Oh that feels so good…”

While he licks and sucks, he slides a finger down through my folds to tease my entrance. Then, after a while, he turns his hand palm up and slides first one, then two fingers inside me.

We both sigh, and he strokes me gently, until I’m aching with need, and I’m breathing with deep, ragged gasps.

Only then does he withdraw his fingers and rise up. “I’ll get my wallet,” he says.

“I have a Mirena fitted,” I say. “So you don’t have to. But you can if you want, I don’t mind either way.”

His eyes glitter in the moonlight. “You’re sure?”

I nod.

He removes his underwear, leans over me, then glances to one side. “You’re so f*****g beautiful.”

I follow his gaze. I’d forgotten the wardrobe doors are mirrors. Words desert me at the sight of our reflection. The moon has painted one side of his body silver, while the other is in shadow. His tattoos wind up his muscular arms, and I can just see one wing of the raven on his back across his shoulder. I truly believe he’s part Viking at this moment.

I shiver. I’m a little nervous, I don’t know why. Maybe because I really like this guy, and I’m not hugely experienced, and I want to please him.

“Du betyr så mye for meg,” I whisper.

His eyes widen. “Did I say that right?” I ask shyly.

His lips curve up and he nods. “When did you learn to speak Norwegian?”

“I looked it up. I wanted to tell you how I feel about you.”

“You mean a lot to me, too,” he replies huskily. I think he’s genuinely touched.

Then he presses his lips to mine, and I wrap my arms around his neck and lose myself in the kiss.