CHAPTER 17
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EVA
Oh, just take a drive in the dead of night in a clapped-out car on an island that didn’t even have electricity until fifty years ago. What on earth could go wrong?
I sat on the closed lid of the toilet in the bathroom adjacent to the bedroom. I held my head in my hands as I tried to process what the hell I was doing. How did I get here? Was I really the only one Nick could have chosen to help him with the gifts?
And why was I so stressed out being here alone with him? Isn’t that precisely what I wanted? The truth was that I’d wanted his attention. Not just today, either, but ever since he’d kissed me so passionately in the study. I wanted his eyes on me. I wanted to see in his face how much he wanted me. When he confessed the reason for his strange behavior earlier that evening when he arrived at the wedding, I was pretty sure it was the best thing anyone had ever told me.
But this was something different. It’s one thing to be flattered, complimented and admired. Even kissed really damn well while pressed up against a bookshelf, but it’s something else entirely to be in a hotel room with him. And even though I knew that I couldn’t blame him for the way things turned out tonight, I had a strange feeling that everything had been deliberately manipulated and meddled with to get me here. Yes. That was it. And I was suddenly mad.
And yet I felt a fire burning inside me, a thrill that made my scalp prickle and my toes wiggle. I felt butterflies in my stomach, the kind that only comes from that feeling you get when you think someone likes you in the way that you want to be liked. And he was on the other side of the door, and there would just be the two of us all night.
God, what a mess. I groaned with frustration and then had to quickly clamp my hand over my mouth in case he heard it. But it was too late. He tapped on the door.
“Everything okay in there?” he asked.
“Yep! Fine!” I cried quickly, and I stood up and opened the bathroom door. He’d taken off the tie he’d been wearing and now stood in front of me with one hand on either side of the door frame, looking down at me. His shirt was opened a little, and I could begin to make out the smooth golden chest between the expensive white cotton.
“Thought you were having a little trouble in there,” he said.
“Not at all,” I replied, ducking under his arm and striding into the bedroom. There was a huge, four-poster bed made of dark mahogany in the center of the bedroom, neatly covered with red and white bedding. The pillows were large and fluffy, and it looked very inviting. I made a point of looking at the floor.
“I don’t see any spare bedding for you. I’ll call down and have them bring something to the room.”
“No need,” Nick said simply. Then he walked past me and lay down on the bed, kicking off his shoes and socks one by one. Then he reached for the remote and turned on the television. A bunch of people in a studio that had been made to look like a tavern appeared on the screen, and they were dancing and singing along to a woman wearing little more than a piece of lace wrapped around her body. She had long dark hair and huge fake eyelashes. The music sounded very traditional. Nick chuckled and shook his head.
“This show’s been on since I was a kid. ‘Stin ygeia mas’. It means ‘to our health’. In the same way we’d say cheers.”
“That’s great,” I said. “But that doesn’t help us with the sleeping arrangements.”
“Eva, if you want to sleep on the floor, be my guest,” he said, breezily. “But this bed’s so damn comfortable and warm that I think I’ll stay right here.”
“Are you serious?”
“You’re damn right, I am,” he said, smiling broadly. “You’re welcome to join me, and I promise to bite.” Seeing the stunned expression on my face, he laughed.
“Well, in that case, no thanks. I’ll be fine on the floor.” I grabbed two pillows from the bed and tossed them onto the rug in front of the bed. From the bathroom, I took a fresh towel and spread it out on the carpet. Then I opened the closet and found a single top sheet which I pulled over me. I lay there, staring at the ceiling until I saw a head pop over the side of the bed.
“You know, that looks incredibly uncomfortable,” he said.
“It’s actually not bad at all,” I said. “Besides, my dad’s always told me it’s better for your back to be on a hard floor. It won’t do me any harm.”
“Well, if you’re sure,” Nick replied, and he disappeared. I heard the bed creak a little from his movements, and then I heard the sound of the phone’s handset being lifted from the cradle. He spoke in Greek for about two minutes and replaced the phone once more.
“I’ve called home. They know we’re safe.”
“Right. Goodnight then. I want to be out of here as early as possible tomorrow.”
Outside the rain was still lashing against the window, and even though I was uncomfortable laying on the floor, I wasn’t about to show it. Nick turned off the show where the woman was singing awful-sounding songs and then switched off the bedside lamp as well. The only light in the room was that coming from the outside streetlamps filtering through the cracks in the blinds.
“Are you sure you’re okay down there?” he asked me.
“Yep, I’m great, thanks,” I replied, perhaps a little too firmly.
“Okay, but I must warn you that if you hear anything running across the floor, don’t be alarmed. It’s not spiders.”
“That’s a relief. I hate spiders.” I tried to keep my voice as calm as possible, but now I was beginning to worry. I left it a further ten seconds before asking, “What would it be instead?”
“Oh, nothing to worry yourself about,” Nick said, cheerfully. “Only a lizard. It’s quite common to find them on this side of the island, especially after heavy rains. They tend to come inside when it’s so wet outside.”
My eyes were now wide open, staring into the darkness. I swallowed and pulled the sheet up to my chin, straining to listen for the slightest sound. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing I was scared, but I could feel my heart beating so loud, I was sure he must have been able to hear it.
And then, there it was. The tiniest scratching sound a few inches from my head. It could have been anything. Rain on the window, the creaking of an old floorboard, or even a spring in the mattress. But it was enough for me to leap up with a shriek. I didn’t know where Nick was on the bed, but I didn’t care. I leaped onto it, yanking up my dress. The tight red fabric left me little room to move.
I landed on his arm, but rather than shouting, he merely caught me, laughing.
“What’s wrong?”
“I heard something,” I whispered loudly.
“What are you—” But my hand was over his mouth. My heart was racing as I shut him up, craning my neck to hear whether the noise came again. But there was nothing but the sound of rain tapping against the glass now.
And something else.
My hand was still over Nick’s mouth, but he held my wrist gently and pulled it away, and he kissed it softly. He didn’t speak. In the dim light, I watched him as he kissed my wrist again, and his fingers intertwined with mine as he looked up at me. He pulled me closer, working his way up my arm with his lips, kissing me gently, and I let him, without moving away, until finally, he was at my shoulder, then my neck, and then my chin.
He hesitated for just a moment, and then his lips were on mine. I gave a tiny croak, a pathetic attempt to refuse him, but it was too late because I wasn’t about to stop him now. We were all alone, and this was exactly what I wanted.
So I kissed him back, and his mouth moved over mine slowly, sensually. He let go of my hand and stroked my face, then down my back, his fingers tracing the outline of my dress. He pulled me on top of him, and I could feel that he was still wearing his shirt. I couldn’t stop myself and reached out to unbutton it, my fingers slowly making their way down his body.
I lay above him, his large hands holding me firmly. They lingered on my waist before moving down to my ass, holding it tightly. I moved my legs a little, but toward him rather than away from him, encouraging him to carry on with what he was doing. God, it felt so good.
He sat up, still kissing me, and I slid the shirt over his shoulders so that his torso was bare. That surfer’s body I’d drooled over since the first day I saw him sitting on the beach, seven years ago, was now even more toned than before, but the feel of his skin underneath my fingertips was still familiar. I couldn’t help but lower my head and kiss his chest, smooth and beautiful.
But he cupped my face and brought me up to his mouth again, kissing me deeply. He slowly moved out from under me, rolling us both over so that he lay half on top of me. He didn’t say a word as he reached behind my back and pulled down the zipper of my dress. Earlier that day I’d wrestled with it myself, trying to pull it up. Now he pulled it down with ease.
My breathing was heavy, but I couldn’t help each breath being punctuated by a groan escaping from my throat. I was on my back, and I stared up at him as he pulled down my dress, tossing it aside so that I wore only a red bra and matching panties. His burning gaze travelled down my body, and he shook his head slowly.
“What?” I whispered, worried that he was somehow unhappy with me.
But he just looked at me and smiled slowly. “I’m just sad I’ve been without this body for the last seven years,” he said. “It’s a real shame.”
And while he’d been gentle and soft in his movements up until that moment, he got a little more deliberate, a little more urgent. He held my arms up, pinning them above my head as he looked down at me, and I couldn’t move as he kissed down my neck and chest, before licking the soft skin between my breasts. He kept going, further and further down to my stomach, moving his body down as he did, until he was between my thighs. He pushed them apart and licked the inside of my thigh, stopping just before the edge of my panties.
I groaned, arching my back, and in the space I’d made between my back and the bed, he quickly moved up and unhooked my bra, tearing it from me before grabbing my arms again, holding me down and taking my breast in his mouth. It was one swift, smooth, seamless movement. He sucked on my nipples with rapture, and when he let go of my arms, I stroked his head, moving my hips toward him as I told him with every part of my body that I wanted him.
He knew it, too, and he wasn’t about to rush things. I understood. After all, we’d been apart for so long, and yet it was clear that the fire between us hadn’t died, and even though we wanted each other, neither of us wanted it to be over too soon.
He shuffled out of his pants and lay on his stomach in only a pair of black underwear which clung to his gorgeous, firm ass. I reached down and grabbed it, pulling him onto me, and he pressed against me so that I could feel him, hard and yearning, between my legs. The material between us was the thinnest of cotton but might as well have been made of concrete, because it was keeping us apart.
So I slid my hand down between us, running my fingers down his stomach until I felt the top of his underwear, but I kept going until I could feel his cock in my hand. I held is gaze while stroking him up and down his shaft. He sucked in a sharp breath and rocked his hips in time to my strokes, before planting his lips firmly on mine and taking my tongue between his teeth, sucking it into his mouth.
“I want you so fucking much, but I didn’t bring any protection with me,” he growled, but I quickly assured him that there was no need for it, as I’d been on the pill for some time now. On hearing that, he groaned and tugged my panties down to my thighs. I could feel the cool air of the night between my legs, coming into contact with my wetness, and I ached for him, longed for him, my body responding the only way it knew how. He softly stroked between my legs, groaning at the way his fingers were immediately soaking wet.
“I’m going to give you what you crave and take what I want,” he said, as he moved to pull down his underwear, tossing it aside to join mine somewhere on the bed. We were desperate for each other, neither of us wanting to spend another second apart, desperate to become one.
As he moved on top of me, I took him and guided him to my core. He pushed inside, and I threw back my head with a groan of sweet ecstasy. He was back where he belonged, like the very first time. He clasped me to him and took me, hard and fast, pinning me down and giving me seven years’ worth of frustration. I took all of it, every single second, grabbing him and desperately wanting him even deeper.
He got onto his knees and flung my legs over his shoulders, holding my hips and groaning with pleasure as he rammed into me, faster and faster until he gasped and tensed, and I felt him firing his seed deep inside me as I stared at him, open-mouthed with rapturous joy.
Then he collapsed on top of me, panting, regaining his breath back. But he wasn’t done yet. Within only a few minutes he was hard again, and this time he turned over so that now he was on his back and I straddled him, moving up and down on his hard cock while my nails dug into his chest. I rode him with wild abandon, slamming my thighs against him, shamelessly, as he massaged my breasts, pinching my nipples as I moaned, until I bucked, shivered, and plummeted through my orgasm with screams of ecstasy, and he came inside me again.
When I couldn’t take any more, I fell onto his chest, and he held me tightly while the sweat from both of us held us together.