Hello and welcome. A treat today for all you m/m/f fans. Keep reading right here to enjoy the prologue and the first 3 chapters of The Glass Knot, my 5* novel available from Amazon. Enjoy, though be warned, it's hot, hot, hot...
“Here’s to us.” Nick clinked his glass against mine and gave a seductive smile, one that promised a night of sex hotter than the Costa Del Sol’s midday sun.
“To us,” I said, tapping the rim of my champagne flute against his, “and surviving against the odds.” I leaned forward over a plate of delicate canapés and kissed him. My stubble scratched his smooth chin, and I berated myself for not finding the time to shave before our romantic moonlit meal. All I’d done today was lounge on the beach listening to the lapping waves and losing myself in my Kindle. I’d had a beer and some watermelon at lunchtime and hadn’t even noticed Nick step away to book the best table at The Pier restaurant; the one right at the very end, set slightly apart and partially screened from other diners by a row of potted pink Acacia plants.
“Ten years since tying the knot,” Nick said, knocking back a slug of champagne. “And man, it’s been pretty up and down.”
I glanced out at the endless stretch of black water. A single strip of silvery light from the moon shone down, creating a magical sparkling path that tapered into the horizon. I popped a spicy battered prawn into my mouth and savored the sweet chili, so different to the rank, prejudiced flavor I’d had constantly in my mouth as we’d battled my father’s revulsion of our gay union.
Nick tipped his head and studied me. “I know I told you already but I’m so enjoying having this time with you here. Marbella has always been somewhere I wanted to bring you.”
I smiled. “It’s great, the perfect anniversary destination.”
Nick pressed back in his chair as a suited waiter set a whole sea bass before him. The crispy skin was blackened and sprinkled with crystals of salt. A vivid green salad tossed with olives and walnuts accompanied it.
“Thanks,” I said as my fillet steak, coated with creamy stilton sauce, arrived. Fat chips over-spilling a white bowl were set alongside yet more salad
The waiter topped up our glasses, and Nick nodded for another bottle of champagne to be brought out. I adored him when he was in this spoiling-me mood. Just occasionally, when he was feeling romantic he really splashed out. Not that he wasn’t always considerate, he was, but away from his office and in this luscious relaxed holiday state, I really got to enjoy him, all of him. Every last bit of him.
We dug into our sumptuous main courses, chatting about our Cotswold cottage and whether or not the new thatch would be complete by the time we arrived home. We also had a decorator in, freshening up the living room and scrubbing out the inglenook which had blackened over several winters of blazing log fires. Log fires that we’d thoroughly enjoyed sprawling in front of naked and sweaty, adoring each other’s bodies, from early evening until the small hours of the morning. The hearth rug had been replaced, twice, each one bigger and more luxurious than the last.
An elegant yacht broke through the shimmering path of moonlight at our side. We paused to admire the sails and speculate which celebrity might be cruising by. What decadent millionaire was holding a lavish party for a select few, and guessing the food and drink that would be served, what music would be played. Perhaps he even had a live performer, someone fabulous and talented, internationally famous entertaining his guests.
By the time my pineapple sorbet and Nick’s chocolate torte arrived I was feeling as mellow as I ever could. My sun-kissed limbs were relaxed and my mood chilled. A holiday with Nick, eating a beautiful meal on our tenth anniversary was about as perfect a moment as I could imagine.
“Mmm, try this,” Nick said, offering forward a dollop of his torte.
I opened my mouth willingly, as I always did for him, no matter what he offered. “Yum,” I said, licking my lips and letting the heavy truffle dissolve on my tongue. “That’s fabulous.”
“Do you still think of Her?” he asked suddenly. His dark gaze captured mine, and his expression fell serious.
“Her?” I knew full well who he was talking about. Her, She, was fictitious, and stemmed from a drunken conversation we’d had several years ago.
“I’m sorry, Josh.” He covered my hand with his. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“No, it’s fine.”
He rubbed his thumb over my knuckles and stared, unblinking at his caressing movements. “Seriously, forget it.”
I sucked in a deep breath. I couldn’t ignore the question, not now he’d asked it. Because the truth was I did still think of Her. In quiet moments She was conspicuous by her absence. I’d suspected I was gay in my mid-teens, but it wasn’t until I’d met Nick and fallen for him that I’d handed my body over to another person—Nick was still my one and only lover. “You know you’re the most important thing in the world to me, Nick, the pivotal focus of my every waking moment,” I said and then paused, my tongue stalling with words that might hurt. “But yes, I do sometimes still think of being with a woman.”
Nick pulled his eyebrows low and studied my face.
“It’s different for you,” I went on. “You had Cheryl before we met, Cheryl and others. For me there has only ever been you.”
Gnawing on his bottom lip, Nick shook his head. “The past is the past, but because of circumstances and our age difference, I would hate to stop you experiencing something you feel you should—“
“No, it’s not like that, it’s not because I feel I should, it’s just…” I struggled to put my feelings into words even though these were not new thoughts and emotions. In fact I’d discussed it recently with one of our friends who’d known he was into guys from a very early age. He’d said the idea of sex with a woman repulsed him and he would rather burn in hell.
Trouble was I didn’t feel like that, there had been girls, women over the years who’d caught my eye and I’d found myself physically attracted to them. Not that I’d done anything about it but the thought of sex with a woman appealed to me, even though I loved Nick and loved having sex with him, I often imagined being inside a soft, sweet feminine body. And, like a small crack above a door frame, over the years of that door opening and shutting—each time I fantasized about being with a woman—it just got bigger. Now it was so big, that crack, it was starting to spit little chunks of plaster onto the foundations of our relationship. Nick had been right to bring it up—it was time to face facts. I wasn’t as gay as I thought I was.
“It’s an urge isn’t it?” Nick said, with an understanding frown.
I nodded gratefully. “Yes, an urge, but I can control it. If you hadn’t mentioned it I probably wouldn’t have thought of it for days.”
“Days…?” His lips stayed parted as if about to say more.
“Yes, days.” I knew I’d surprised him with the frequency of my yearning, but it had to be said and it was, after all, him who’d brought Her up. He deserved the truth.
“Josh, I had no idea.”
I shrugged, withdrew my hand from his and scooped in a mouthful of my sorbet. I’d come to the conclusion there must be different levels of gayness. Much as some gay blokes were repulsed by women’s bodies, there was an opposite end to the spectrum, which I guessed was where I sat. And so did Nick. He’d been married to Cheryl, lived a straight life and had a whole pile of hetro sex that, he’d told me, he’d enjoyed—he just hadn’t loved Cheryl enough to spend his life with her.
“Well, that just proves something needs to be done,” Nick said in a steely tone. “If these are thoughts you’re having on a daily basis.”
“Not every day.”
“Just most.” He placed down his spoon, leaving a big chunk of his torte.
I reached over and cupped his cheek, stared at his long face, handsome and strong and strewn with shadows. He usually sported a dark layer of neatly trimmed facial hair but he’d shaved it off saying he didn’t want an uneven tan. “I don’t want to risk anything or anyone coming between us,” I said. Rocking our peaceful existence terrified me considerably more than suppressing an urge—urges I could cope with, urges I had control over.
“But where is the risk?” Nick covered my hand with his palm and tipped his head so his cheek pressed more firmly against me. “What we have is so strong, so solid, how can you experiencing one night with a woman possibly break it?”
I thought for a moment then sighed. “I don’t think it would break it. I’m just scared about throwing a spanner in the works. We’re so happy and we have been for so long as tonight, ten years married, proves.”
“So what better time to do this, Josh, while we’re secure and strong?” He set his jaw in the determined way he did when sure of something. I felt it tense beneath my palm.
“I suppose you’re right.” I paused, my mind flooding with thrilling possibilities as well as hurdles. “But I couldn’t just have sex with anyone. That wouldn’t work for me I would have to…” I hesitated.
“She would have to have that certain something, make me feel comfortable and excited both mentally and physically. You couldn’t just hire me a prostitute and think that would work.”
He sat back, forcing me to drop my hand from his face. He folded his arms over his chest and tightened his fingers into his biceps creating little dents in his tanned flesh. “Of course I wouldn’t hire you a prostitute, what do you take me for?”
I smiled, scooped up a chunk of my sorbet and offered it forward. “Here, try this, you’ll love it.”
He narrowed his eyes, but a sparkle deep within them told me he’d been quickly placated. Yes, holidays definitely suited Nick’s moods. They were much less fractious.
“That’s fabulous,” he said, after taking the icy sweet treat.
“Yeah, it is.”
There was a long, thought-filled pause.
“But we don’t know anyone who would be suitable,” Nick said eventually with a sigh. “I work from home and you work with a bunch of burly guys. And let’s face it, even if we both worked with hordes of women, finding one who would be willing to go to bed with a gay man, just so he had the experience of fucking a woman, would be pretty slim.”
I shrugged. “I know, in fact, it’s virtually impossible which make this whole conversation hypothetical.” It was time to get back to just being us and take Her out of our special evening. I dropped my gaze downwards, as if undressing him with my eyes and said in a lowered voice, “Besides, you keep me more than satisfied, in every department.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” he said, draining the last of his champagne and giving me the lopsided grin I adored, the one that dimpled his left cheek, right in the center and made him look so damn sexy. “But just so we’re clear, and I’ve said this before, we may be committed to one another, but if the opportunity arises for you to lose your virginity in the conventional sense, then you have my blessing. It might be tomorrow, it might be years from now, but I’m there for you when it does, one hundred percent.”
“Thank you, but the chance of Her existing are pretty remote.”
“She could be in Marbella right now, you never know, Josh.”
Once again I looked out at the inky expanse of ocean. Beyond the horizon lay Africa, with all of its exotic scents and sights, taste and delights. I’d experienced a small section of the vast continent as a tourist, though Nick, before we’d met, had traveled it extensively with Cheryl. They’d toured all over the West Coast, she’d been a doctor and he was an architect. They’d spent a couple of years helping set up hospitals in the poorest countries. And then he’d met me, one night in a bar in Notting Hill and acknowledged that he was gay. The marriage had come to an abrupt end.
Occasionally I felt bad about it, but I knew it wasn’t my fault. Nick had made his own decisions, and ultimately Cheryl was a happier woman now. We met up occasionally, with Cheryl. Nick stayed in touch and liked to ensure she had everything she needed. Although why he worried I had no idea, being that she was now a professor and married to a world class ophthalmologist. She had everything she wanted and more, including three children. Nick meeting me had saved her from a life that revolved around a lie.
“Anything else, sir?” a waiter asked, appearing at our side and directing the question at Nick.
Nick glanced at me. “No, I think we’re done. Just the bill, please.”
His foot touched my calf, just the tip of his summer shoe, and I knew he was thinking the same as me. After an evening of champagne and fine dining, and with a luxury suite awaiting us at The Peniche Hotel, there was only one thing left on the agenda.
Nick paid the bill, and we wandered back down the pier, hand in hand.
“I love walking with you like this,” Nick said, squeezing my fingers. “It’s so nice to be able to do it without wondering what people will be saying in the paper-shop five minutes later.”
“I know.” I brought his hand to my mouth and brushed his knuckles over my lips. “I adore living in Little Mickleton, but it would be nice if people were a bit more open-minded.”
“I think they’re pretty used to us by now.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
The stroll back to the hotel along the promenade was peppered with curiosities demanding our attention. A man dressed as a Roman Emperor and sprayed entirely in gold paint stood like a statue, moving only when children dropped cents into his urn. Another dressed as Captain Jack Sparrow, posed for photographs, Nick couldn’t resist. We stood for ten minutes and admired an enormous and incredibly intricate sandcastle before dropping several Euros into the artist’s green plastic bucket.
Keen as we were to get one another naked, the beauty of having been together so long was knowing that it would happen. The anticipation, the togetherness beforehand, was all part of the seduction.
Finally we reached our room. It was spacious and minimal, the bed enormous and covered in a cream and gold eiderdown, the piping on the delicate brocade a vibrant red. A huge expanse of glass opened onto a balcony, and when Nick flung open the doors the distant roar of the waves rolled upwards and filled the room, bringing with it salty air and the shrill call of a gull.
“I’m going to freshen up,” Nick said, toeing off his shoes and catching my eye in the mirror. “Make sure you’re naked when I get back.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” I said giving a mock salute.
He grinned and disappeared into the en-suite.
After quickly checking my mobile for messages—none—I turned off my cell. I shucked off my beige shorts and checked shirt and tossed them onto the chair. I didn’t wear boxers or any other type of underwear. It was a habit I’d adopted years ago, not long after I met Nick and they kept getting ripped from my body; now I just went without.
Sliding between the cool, Egyptian sheets, I sighed in contentment and waited for my lover. My dick was hard just thinking about his hot, granite body against mine, in mine. I locked my hands behind my head and stared up at the ceiling, resisted the temptation to start without him.
Luckily I didn’t have to wait long. The en-suite door opened and Nick stepped out, gloriously naked and his beautiful cock bouncing upwards from his wiry bush of black pubic hair. My heart rate skipped up a notch as he flicked off the light, allowing the moonlight to filter over the bed in a ghostly glow.
Throwing back the covers, I exposed my body, showing him my engorged need.
“You want the final part of your anniversary present?” he asked in a low, husky voice, his gaze scanning me from my toes to my head.
“Bring it on,” I said, fisting my shaft and sliding my thumb under the rim of my cock-head.
He kneeled on the bed and carefully unpeeled my fingers from my erection. “Allow me.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and willed my hips not to jerk upwards as he tapped his tongue over my slit, scooping up a thick drip of pre-cum.
“My, you are ready for it,” he whispered, working the tip of his tongue over my glans in a zigzag pattern.
“Oh, yes, that’s it,” I moaned. I turned my head on the pillow and ran my fingers over his short hair. “Oh, Nick, you do it so good to me.”
He didn’t answer. In response he sank low, taking me on a perfect deep-throated ride. His mouth was warm and soft and his tongue a deep, strong groove that hugged my shaft. When he bobbed so low my glans touched the back of his throat I groaned, drawn out and luxuriously, loving the way the sound mixed with the crashing of the sea; it was so erotic and at one with nature, a wave of wet sensations and needy emotions.
He sucked back up, and his fingers joined the party, exploring and caressing the base of my shaft. He cupped my balls and squeezed gently, rolling them within their loose, wrinkled skin.
I groaned again and willed control. Nick’s skillful fingers combined with his talented mouth could easily have me reaching the finish line early, and I didn’t want that.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” Nick asked, his warm breath breezing over my belly and cooling my saliva-wet shaft.
“Yes, oh, yes.”
“Good, because I’m going to. I’m going to fuck your ass so hard. So hard to show you how much I love you.” As he spoke he circled a lubed finger around the tight rim of my anus.
I trembled, as I always did, just before he penetrated me. The anticipation of the pleasure I knew he could give was almost unbearable.
He sank back down on my cock, sucking and rippling his tongue. At the same time he delved one long, strong finger into my tightly puckered hole.
I gasped and stretched my legs wider across the mattress. Drew up my knees, and offered myself to him, as completely open as I could be.
One finger turned into two. He tunneled and probed, stroking over my prostate in a teasing, tickling way. I bucked my hips for more, my breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. Behind my tightly shut eyelids fireworks exploded. The need to grab that first step to orgasm raged through me and I struggled to control it.
His mouth was busy, so was his tongue. My cock pulsed against his palate, the veins so engorged they ached. When he added a third finger I feared I might come. My bollocks were retracting, burying themselves up into the base of my shaft, the pressure inside boiling up to a bubbling throb.
“Oh, God, Nick, please, be careful, I’m going to…”
He must have heard the desperation in my voice for he eased the wild fretting of his tongue and slowed his wicked, pumping fingers.
I grabbed a deep breath and sought my control once more. Found it, just, and hung on.
“Come here,” I said, tugging at his shoulders, “Please, come here.”
Keeping his fingers buried in my ass and scissoring gently, he released my cock and began to spread kisses up over my flat belly, dipping into the indentation of my navel then licking up toward my nipples.
“I want you so much,” I said breathlessly. “Nick, please, fuck me, hurry.”
He responded by giving my right nipple a sharp bite.
I fisted the sheet with one hand and gripped his head with the other. The sting of pain when I was so aroused was an extra blissful sensation. I harnessed the endorphins the sore spot produced and added them to the heightened state I was basking in.
He treated my other nipple to the same bite. Sank his fingers knuckle deep in my ass, twisting and turning them industriously as he went.
“Ah, ah,” I panted, arching my back and knocking my hips into his warm, muscular body.
“Oh, I love it when you want me so much,” he said, licking his way along the taut tendons of my neck. “It makes me feel so alive.”
“I want you all right.” I wrapped my hand around his nape and pulled him in for a hot, panting kiss. My tongue searching and needy, slippery and desperate.
He fed me wild kiss for wild kiss. Pumping into me and rubbing my excited prostate with unrelenting fingertips.
I tore my mouth from his. “Please, your cock. I want to come with your cock in me.”
He stared into my eyes. The silvery glow of the moonlight made his sparkle and look so brown they appeared black.
Without a word he pulled his fingers from my tight hole, and sat back on his haunches. He reached for a tube of lube and quickly greased up his dark, jutting cock. Had I not been feeling so desperate, I would have snapped forward and done it for him, but my hunger to have him sinking into my ass was overwhelming and I wanted nothing to get in the way of Nick fucking me.
I clutched my kneecaps, drawing my legs up so my thighs were pressed against my torso.
“That’s it, baby, just relax,” he said in a growling voice and directed the wide, mushroomed head of his cock at my up-tilted anus.
Relax! I was a coiled spring about to unwind—spectacularly.
I held my breath and studied his face as he pushed in past that first barrier. The heat of his cock and the chill of the lube was exquisite, a beautiful contrast. I watched his lips pull back over his teeth and his eyes shut tight. He loved this first bit, the stretch, the entry, he often told me. So did I. We’d made love a million times in a million different ways but it was always special, he always made me feel so adored.
“Ah, yes, that’s it, fuck, Josh, yeah, squeeze me tight, tighter, yes, yes.” He hissed in a breath.
I clamped my anus as he slid in, a smooth glide that filled me to bursting point. He didn’t stop until his bollocks hit my ass cheeks, the sparse hairs tickly and the soft skin cool.
My fingernails dug into my shins, my hips were stretched apart, and as he dropped his weight to kiss me, my knees clamped against the sides of his torso.
Instead of setting up a pulling in-and-out rhythm, Nick began to rock, the hard stalk of his cock massaging my special internal place perfectly, my own shaft trapped between our bodies.
“You like your final present?” he asked into my mouth.
“Yes, yes, oh, God, yes.” I held his cheeks and cupped my palms over his wide, angled jawline. “Yes, Nick, oh God, I love you so much.”
“And I love you, more than anything else in the world. Now come for me, come hard and long, and don’t hold anything back, let me hear how good I, your husband, makes you feel.”
He deepened his entry and dropped his weight farther. I gave myself up to him. Nothing else existed except for Nick and the glorious way he made me come. His big, solid dick up my ass, and the coarse hairs on his abdomen scraping deliciously over my engorged shaft was my own personal heaven.
“Ah, yes, fucking hell, I love you, yes, yes, yes,” I cried out. Deep within me there was an explosion and my ass pulsed into a series of powerful contractions. My bollocks fired out the pressure that had been building, shooting it up my shaft and jettisoning it between our frantic bodies.
“Ah, you sound so fucking awesome when you come,” he groaned.
“Oh, you’re so deep, don’t stop, keep going, take every last bit of me.”
This seemed to tip Nick over the edge, and instead of rocking he lifted up and began to pound in and out of my quivering ass. Slapping up against my butt cheeks and thighs with each devastating thrust.
I stretched my arms up and grabbed hold of the slats in the headboard. Allowed him to own my body. Use it to take himself to an ecstatic high.
“Fucking hell, that’s it, that’s it,” he shouted, forging in fast and hard then freezing at the hilt.
I peeled open my eyes and reveled in the sensation of his cock spurting into me, filling my ass with his need and his hot cum.
“Oh, my God,” he cried, gripping my waist and impaling me farther onto his spasming shaft. “That’s so good, so fucking good.”
Still clutching the headboard, I braced my heels on the bed as he rammed into me twice more, shuddering out his climax. He was so hard and long, sometimes I wondered how the hell he fit inside me when his cock was at its maximum length and girth, just before he orgasmed.
“Oh, yes,” he panted, dropping down and burying his face in my neck.
I allowed my legs to flop to the sides, released the headboard and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. I held him close as he trembled and his heart beat wildly.
“Thank you,” I whispered into his razor-short hair.
“For such a wonderful anniversary. It’s been perfect.”
“You’re perfect,” he said, kissing my neck. “I can’t imagine my life without you. I would do anything for you, you know that.”
“The feeling is mutual,” I said, stoking my fingers down his damp back, dipping into the gutter of his spine and feeling the first rise of his buttocks. “We will be together forever, no matter what happens. You must always remember that.”
Okay, so Marbella had been a long way to go for a weekend and had maxed out the credit card, but I just had to escape the gray June London was offering. Where were the ice-cream-coated kids, the heavy, week-old smog, and the sun-screened bodies lounging in the parks?
Looking around the endless beach, it seemed all the sticky kids and the suntanned torsos had made the same decision as me—to get the hell out of the city and closer to the Equator.
I stretched back on my lounger and stared at the horizon. The sea was the color of a Ceylon sapphire, a pale crystal blue with just a few frothy waves breaking on the surface. The fine sand, a vivid gold, was interrupted only by bright bikinis, colorful swim trunks and the odd striped windbreak. It was a like a scene from a travel brochure, which was just as well since my latest photographic assignment was about the masses escaping the dismal British weather.
I clicked away on my Nikon digital. Took a shot of two children building a sandcastle, then turned and zoomed in on a waiter delivering an umbrella-and-cherry-strewn cocktail to a woman in a white bikini on a white sun bed beneath a white parasol. I studied the image, slurped up the last of my own fruity, rum-laced cocktail, then turned my lens to sea. A beautiful yacht broke the surface and I snapped its graceful profile; it was almost silhouetted because of the dense sunshine. I reduced my zoom and scanned the ebbing waves. Several kids splashed noisily, an elderly couple walked past hand in hand, and then, then a buff beach God strolled out of the water.
It was as if every cell in my body magnetically tuned in to him. A fizzing sensation of awareness buzzed over my skin. I caught my breath and skimmed my gaze over him. It was a Daniel Craig moment, but this was a million times better, because this perfect specimen of manhood was here, breathing the same air as me, walking on the same sand as my lounger rested on.
I clicked away, keen to immortalize that broad, angular chest the color of a perfect apple-pie crust. I needed to record that slim waist, wall of bricked abs and tight navy swim trunks. His thighs were wide with muscles, tensing with each step he took out of the waves.
My index finger went on overdrive as he scraped back his wet hair, the action causing his torso to stretch and amplify his sumptuous oblique muscles angling down to his shorts. I licked my lips, straightened my back and thought what perfect shots I’d have.
He was getting closer. He’d left the gentle push-pull of the ebbing waves and was now on dry powdery sand. Kicking up little clouds behind himself with each step.
Suddenly my mouth dried and I swallowed. He was staring straight at me. I took one last indulgent shot then lowered my lens. In an instant my heart rate shot to dangerous levels. By reducing my zoom the lens had fooled me into thinking he was farther away than he was. The glaring truth was his broad shadow was just about to engulf me. Swallow me whole.
I stared up into the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. They were the exact shade of the cloudless sky above me. He pushed his hair back again; it was dark blond and several long tendrils flopped straight back over his forehead. His parted his lips, as if to speak, then closed it and tipped his mouth into a smile instead.
If I’d been hot before, now I was on fire. His smile was enough to cause my bikini briefs to spontaneously combust. Wide sensuous lips, the lower one a little plump, screamed sin. Good, hot, dirty sin. Oh, it had been so long since I’d enjoyed the benefit of a sexy man’s mouth on my body.
I matched his smile, lifted my shades to the top of my head and rested back on my lounger. Enjoyed his gaze roaming down my body and was glad I’d opted for my favorite red bikini that morning. It had tiny white polka dots and the halter-neck top was especially flattering on my small breasts.
But despite his appreciative expression he didn’t slow down. He kept on walking, stepped right past me, so close that tiny grains of sand from his passing feet sprinkled onto my magazine and beach bag. I stared at his long limbs, wishing I wasn’t such a sucker for a handsome face and mouthwatering body.
It was then I spotted his wedding ring.
Just my bloody luck.
I sighed and dropped my shades over my eyes. How typical was that? Though of course I should have known. The good ones were always taken. It seemed to be one of life’s irritating nuances, the older you got and the more keen you were to settle down, the less men there were to choose from.
I shut my eyes and tried not to feel jealous of the lucky woman who would be getting a drippy, salt-laden kiss from that beautiful mouth right now. Running her hands over sun-warmed, smooth skin and giggling as he whispered what dirty things he would do to her later, in bed. I squeezed my legs together and my clit gave a little tug behind my bikini briefs. There would be no man in my bed tonight, just my trusty Rampant Rocker vibrator. Rocky, as I affectionately called him, had been my only release for nearly a year now. A string of disastrous relationships with men who said one thing but meant another had led to a decision to take a year off from dating. But that year was nearly up, and I wouldn’t say no to a man again. Even if it was just for one night.
I drifted into an explicit daydream about what I’d do with a hot male body tied up before me. I’d start with long, slow kisses, move on to oral sex; perhaps I would sit on his face. Then I would ride him, hard and fast. Get myself off over and over, my pussy gorging on rock hard cock. Next I would let him strap me down, lay spread-eagled and surrendered, allow him to do what he wanted to my poor neglected body. In the end I would be crying for a rest he’d made me come so many times.
“I brought you a fresh drink.”
The deep voice at my side startled me from the erotic picture my mind had created. I opened my eyes, sat up and propped my glasses on my head. Hoped I hadn’t mumbled anything incriminating during my daydream.
Sitting on the empty lounger next to mine was Beach God. The very man, I now realized, who’d been the star of my recently concocted fantasy. Warm anticipation poured through me. He was truly beautiful and his smile devastatingly infectious.
But why is he sitting next to me?
“Oh, er thanks,” I managed, reaching for the large Pina Colada he offered forward. It had three straws emerging from white froth and two slices of pineapple balanced on the rim. “But how did you know—?”
“That you were drinking Pina Colada? I asked the waiter at the beach bar.” He nodded in the direction of a circular wooden hut with a reed-stick roof.
“Oh, well, thank you very much. I’d just finished mine.”
“I know.” He grinned and took a sip from a bottle of beer. When he lowered the bottle it made a soft sploshing sound. He held out his hand. “Josh Kendal.”
He wrapped his long, strong fingers around mine and squeezed gently. His skin was as smooth and warm as I’d imagined, though I noticed callouses on his palm.
“Laura Makay. It’s nice to meet you, Josh. Thanks for the drink.”
“Are you here alone, Laura?”
“Yes, just for a long weekend. I need pictures for an assignment so decided to take a working holiday.”
“Great place you’ve chosen to work. Marbella’s amazing.”
“Yes, it is.” I took a sip of my scrumptious cocktail, appreciating its coolness after the dregs of my last one that had warmed in the sunshine. “What about you. Are you here alone or are you with your wife?” I directed my gaze at his left hand, staring studiously at his silver wedding ring for a few seconds before re-settling my gaze on his.
He grinned. “No, not at all, I don’t have a wife.”
I raised my eyebrows a fraction and took another sip of drink. No wife but wearing a wedding ring? I would wait for him to explain that one.
His grin was still in place when he nodded in the direction of the beach bar. “I’m here with my partner, Nick.”
I followed his gaze.
“That’s him, sitting in the shade, catching up on emails,” Josh said.
I spotted a tall, dark-haired guy hunched over a laptop. He wore flowery swim shorts and had a broad, hairy chest. “Your partner. As in business.”
Josh laughed, a deep rumbling sound. “God no, I couldn’t work with him, he’s fanatical about detail, it would drive me crazy. No, Nick is my husband” He smoothed his index finger over the ring. “We’ve been together for ten years. That’s why we’re in Marbella. He’s treating me to a holiday as an anniversary present.”
I felt as though a ton of rubble had just been dropped inside my chest. Of all the luck. Not only was the delectable man at my side married, he was also gay. He couldn’t be more out of reach if he was living on the damn moon. “Well, er, congratulations,” I said, swallowing tightly. “On, your, you know, anniversary.” I gulped down several big mouthfuls of cocktail, ensuring the straw was right at the base of the glass to maximize the rum hit.
“Thanks,” he said, pushing his hair from his face again.
I rested back and slotted my sunglasses down over the bridge of my nose. I didn’t want him to spot the disappointment in my eyes. Josh was by far the most lovely looking man I’d spoken to in years and suddenly finding out nothing would ever happen between us, not even for one night, created a twisting frustration in my gut.
“So where are you staying?” he asked.
“Just here.” I tipped my head to the towering hotel behind the beach bar. “At The Peniche.”
“Yes, so are we. It’s pretty special, isn’t it?”
“It’s lovely, but I really should have been kinder to my bank balance and gone for something a little cheaper.”
“So why didn’t you?”
“Well, since I’m traveling alone I wanted to know my hotel wasn’t going to be on some dingy back street. Plus, this one has free airport transfers so I didn’t need to hire a car.” I shrugged. “And it’s just for four nights anyway.”
He smiled. “I think it does everyone good to be spoiled sometimes.”
“Definitely. Has Nick been spoiling you?”
“God yes. He acts like a hard nut but he’s a complete softy really, very romantic when the mood takes him and he’s not swamped by work.”
“What does he do?”
“He’s an architect. He’s got his own business which he runs from home, but it means he needs to keep on top of current projects when we’re away. He can’t completely forget about his clients.”
“It only takes him a couple of hours a day, though, and it suits me to go for a swim and laze in the sun reading. If he doesn’t do it he only worries and gets crabby.”
“I understand what that’s like. When I have an assignment I like to just get on with it.”
“What is it you do exactly?”
“I’m a freelance photographer.” I nodded at the camera by my side. “Sometimes I work to a specific request my agent has negotiated, other times I just snap away and sell what looks good.”
“Wow, that’s a pretty impressive way to earn a living.”
“Yes, it’s fun, but to be honest I could do with selling a few more pictures. Though if I don’t, it wouldn’t stop me being a photographer. I love what I do. Capturing an image, a moment in time, it makes me feel like I’m a documenter of history.”
He grinned, flashing neat white teeth and sending small lines darting from the sides of his eyes. “So what are your favorite types of shots?”
I thought for a second. “Hard to say. I like taking ones like I have been today. On a beach, everyone having fun, great light to play with, not much to tell you what decade it is except for the style of beachwear. Then other times I like to really concentrate on the detail, close ups, nature particularly, flowers, bugs, cobwebs on a frosty morning, that sort of thing.”
“Nice.” He took a sip of his beer. When he took the rim of the bottle from his lips they were coated with moisture. A small dot of white froth sat in the central bow of his top lip.
“You ever do portraits?” he asked, apparently oblivious of my intense scrutiny of his mouth, and luckily none the wiser to the fact that I was imagining what it would be like to be that speck of beer froth.
“Er, yes, I have in the past. It usually pays well, and if the subject is…” I paused, searching for the right words as I kicked my brain into gear again. On the tip of my tongue was a comment about being physically perfect and how that made portrait work so much easier, but I couldn’t say that without blushing, for surely Josh knew how physically perfect he was. Surely he was aware he was having an effect on me despite the fact he’d been honest in telling me not only was he gay but also married.
He licked his top lip and tipped his head, as if urging me to go on.
I sighed, and once again quashed that sludgy feeling of regret. “If the portrait subject is relaxed it makes it so much easier,” I said. “Plus if they have an idea what kind of mood they’re going for in the final shot it helps to get us both on the same wavelength.”
Josh smiled, nodded, then glanced over at Nick. “Looks like he’s finished. I’d best go and get him a drink.”
He stood and once again, I let my gaze travel down his body. He was honed and toned in all the right places. His swim shorts were fitted and I could make out an impressive bulge behind them; long and thick and dressed to the left.
Taking another sip of my drink, I willed myself not to stare.
It was impossible not to.
What a waste.
“Would you like to join us for dinner tonight, Laura? I guess you’re eating alone.”
A wave of surprise washed through me, and I looked back up at his face. “Dinner?”
He grinned. “Yeah. I’d love to hear more about your work and I’m sure Nick would too.”
“We have a reservation at the top floor restaurant at eight. I could easily call and change it to a table for three.”
“Well, if you’re sure. I don’t want to intrude or anything.”
“You won’t be intruding. We’d love your company.”
I stepped into the lift and hit the button for the top floor. I was a couple of minutes late, but only because I’d had a crisis over which shoes to wear with my white linen dress. Flat sandals to keep the look beachy and relaxed, or coffee-colored stilettoes to match the collection of wooden bangles I’d put on my right wrist. In the end I opted for heels. The Terrace Restaurant, according to the hotel information pack in my room, was “an elegant eatery”.
Stepping into the busy restaurant, I glanced around for Josh’s tall frame. I couldn’t see him or Nick at any of the tables. I hoped they hadn’t had a change of plan. After looking forward to the evening for the last few hours it would be a horrible let down to find myself eating alone, again.
The maître d’ approached. “Can I help you?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m joining friends for dinner. I think their table will be under the name Kendal.”
“Ah, yes, the Kendal’s have opted for the balcony, the evening is so beautiful.” He smiled and reached for a black, leather-bound menu. “This way please, señorita.”
I followed, my heels clacking gently on the floor tiles as I maneuvered around other diners. There was a low hum of conversation and the air was full of aromatic scents; lime and pepper, cilantro and chili.
Stepping through large open glass doors, I breathed in deep. This high up, on the top floor, there was a hint of a breeze and the salty air held a perfect stroke of coolness as it brushed over my bare shoulders.
A grand piano, shiny and white, sat at the end of a small wooden dance floor. It was headed by a man in a bow tie and sharp black suit. Tinkling notes floated toward me, and he looked up and smiled as the maître d’ led me past.
Around the dance floor people talked and ate at candlelit tables. The glass balcony showcased the twinkling lights of Marbella below and accentuated the dense blackness of the sea beyond. The mood was relaxed but stylish, tranquil but sophisticated, and a warm glow of appreciation for the delightful setting washed through me.
“Ah, there you are, Laura.”
I heard Josh’s deep voice before I saw him. I’d been too immersed in the spectacular view. Drawing my attention back, I saw him drop a white linen napkin onto the table and stand. He was wearing dark jeans and a red and black striped short-sleeved shirt that hugged his biceps deliciously.
“Hi,” I said with a shy smile.
His handsome face and delectable body had my stomach flipping, not least because I knew what lay underneath his clothes. Well, what lay beneath most of them anyway.
The maître d’ pulled out the third chair at the table and Josh leaned in and placed a light kiss on my cheek as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. Trouble was, not only did he look amazing, he smelled divine too; citrusy and fresh but with an undercurrent of pure maleness. I couldn’t help but breathe in deep and allow the smell to settle in my nostrils. Unfortunately, what I hadn’t foreseen was that the scent would spread throughout my body; my nipples tingled and warmth settled in my pussy, a hungry heat that I knew my Rampant Rocker would have to attend to later.
“You look lovely,” he said, scanning my dress, right down to my painted pink toenails.
“Thank you.” I smiled and turned to Nick.
He stood and his dark gaze settled on mine. The way his eyebrows hung low and his jaw was set made him look deadly serious despite his polite smile.
“Laura,” he said, reaching for my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Josh told me he’d arranged company this evening, but he neglected to tell me just how exquisitely beautiful you were.”
A rise of heat spread over my cheeks as he brought my knuckles to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss over them.
“I, um, thanks,” I managed, withdrawing my hand and sitting.
The men sat and I smoothed the napkin a waiter floated onto my lap. Josh poured me a glass of wine and I took an offered menu.
“We’ve just ordered,” Nick said, “but we asked them to hold preparation until you arrived. Josh wanted hake and I was anxious that they wouldn’t run out.”
“Oh, that’s sensible,” I said, turning my attention to the menu but not really reading it. Although clearly a little older, Nick was every bit as beautiful as Josh close up, but in a very different way. He was darker in his coloring but also, I suspected, in his thoughts. It was the way he was looking at me, with an almost predatory glint in his eyes. But I didn’t think I was the hunted, he was just protecting what was his; Josh.
Concentrate, Laura, and stop making assumptions. You don’t know anything about these guys.
I pulled in a deep breath and was relieved to feel the heat ebb from my cheeks.
“I’ve opted for steak tonight,” Nick said. “Josh had a wonderful sirloin last night and I couldn’t stop thinking about it this afternoon.”
“I love steak,” I said. “I think I’ll join you.”
Josh nodded to the hovering waiter who wrote down my order and slipped away.
I took a sip of wine. It was light and fruity with a slight melon fragrance. It was just what I needed.
“So, Laura,” Nick said. “Josh tells me he caught you taking photographs of him on the beach this afternoon.”
“Well, I, not just him. I was taking pictures of everyone, it’s my job. Capturing scenes and atmospheres—”
Josh laughed. “Take no notice, he’s winding you up. I told him you were a photographer and not just filling up a scrap book of guys in swim shorts.”
“Oh.” I knocked back another gulp of wine and tried to rid the image of a near naked Josh walking toward me. But it had been one of the most beautiful sights I’d seen in a long time and didn’t flee my mind easily.
“Though of course, Josh, you’re an excellent subject,” Nick said with a smile that created a single dimple in his left cheek. “I wouldn’t blame Laura one bit for stealing photographs of you when you’re practically naked.”
Josh shot him a look I didn’t understand. He tightened his lips into a straight line and his jaw tensed.
“Josh told me you’re an architect, Nick,” I said, eager to move the subject on, “I should think that keeps you very busy.”
“It does, but it pays the bills at the same time as doing something I love so I have no complaints.”
“Are you a domestic architect or have you branched out?”
“I do some private homes, usually top end and very high spec. But I’ve also done renovation work with the Heritage Society, remodeling abandoned chapels and barns, making something of them again.”
“Wow, that sounds interesting. I’d love to see some of your work. Photograph it even.”
“That would be great,” Nick said. “I think it would appeal to you, you’re obviously very visual.” He paused and glanced at Josh then back to me. “I mean by the nature of your work as a photographer, you clearly use your sense of sight to a very heightened state, and I’ve gone to great pains to make my renovations visually appealing as well as accurate for their period.”
I glanced at the object of my latest ocular fascination, who twirled his wine around his glass before taking a sip.
“Yes, I am very visual,” I said. “And what about you, Josh? Are you a kept man?”
He laughed and placed his wine down. “I wish.”
I raised my eyebrows, urged him to go on.
“We, Nick and I, bought a cottage in the Cotswolds several years ago in a village which is home to the county’s main fire-station. I’d always wanted to join the fire service and Nick encouraged me to do it.”
“You’re a fireman?”
“Yep, working my way up the ranks.”
Blow me down. How unfair could life be? It was as if God knew firemen ignited every lusty thought in my brain and had gone and presented me with a gorgeous, married, gay fireman to torment the hell out of me.
What on earth have I done to deserve this?
“That’s er…lovely,” I managed.
“Well, I don’t know about lovely. We’re only five miles from the main motorway through the middle of England so we get called to some nasty car wrecks, especially in the winter.”
“Oh, that’s not nice.”
“No it’s not,” Nick said with a shake of his head. “It makes for some pretty grim working conditions and sights that can’t easily be forgotten.”
Josh threw his gaze out to sea, and I wondered what horror he was pushing from his mind.
“We have to deal with a lot of chimney and thatch fires too,” he said, turning back to the table. “And in the summer, if it’s dry, then there are field fires to sort out. But we also spend a lot of time on education, going to schools, promoting smoke alarms, that sort of thing. Talking to the public is a big part of the job now.”
“Yes, of course.” I imagined him in a dark fireman uniform. All buff and strong with that flopping surfer-dude hair. Big boots, worn trousers and a sweat-laced top, maybe a streak of soot on the smooth skin of his tanned cheek.
A small snake of desire wound up my spine. But I fought it down. Lusting after Josh was pointless. Not only would he never be interested in me, he also had a husband. A gorgeous husband who had buckets of self-assurance and an air of charming charisma, it was easy to see why Josh had been attracted to him in the first place. Hell, if I was a gay guy, I would have been after Nick too.
Food arrived and we tucked in. Josh told me a story from their holiday the year before. They’d gone to Africa on safari and their jeep had overheated in the middle of the Serengeti. Along with a guide, they’d waited six hours for help, knowing they only had three bullets in the rifle. By the time rescue arrived they were down to no bullets having had to fend off several lions not to mention an angry cobra that had settled in the hood of the jeep, and was most likely the cause of the problem to begin with. Nick went on to say that was why they’d chosen a beach holiday this year. Less stressful and a whole lot less dangerous.
“But I fancy something adventurous again next year. There is still so much of the world I want to see,” Josh said, widening his eyes. “Maybe walk the Inca Trail or go white-water rafting in the Rockies.” He topped up everyone’s wine then leaned back as the waiter cleared the table.
“That was delicious,” I said, noting my clear plate. “The best bit of meat I’ve had in ages. What about you, Nick?”
There was a long, pregnant pause.
A grin spread on Josh’s face. The two men looked at each other, then at me. Nick nibbled his bottom lip as if holding back a wicked smile.
“Oh, gosh, you know what I mean,” I gasped, dabbing the corners of my mouth with my napkin and casting my eyes downward.
Heat flared on my neck and cheeks like a swarm of stinging bees. Sweat popped in my cleavage and I crossed and uncrossed my legs.
“Oh, you are pretty when you blush,” Josh said, reaching for my hand and squeezing it gently.
I fanned my face with my napkin. “I’m sorry, my mouth trips ahead of my brain sometimes, I didn’t mean—”
“We know perfectly well what you meant, Laura,” Nick said. “It was an innocent thing to say, and yes, it was a sublime steak, very tender and perfectly cooked.”
“But it does bring us quite nicely to the question of do you have man in your life?” Josh asked, releasing my hand and still grinning.
“Or perhaps a woman,” I said, relieved to change the subject, even if it was only mildly less uncomfortable.
Nick slanted his head and rubbed his finger over a small, silvery scar on his chin. “No, there’s definitely no woman on the horizon.”
“Oh no?” I raised my eyebrows and licked my lips.
“No, I have excellent gaydar,” he said with a smile.
I shrugged. “Yes, you’re right. No woman and actually no man either.”
“Why not?” Josh asked, leaning forward and resting his tanned forearms on the table. The golden hue of his skin was all the more striking against the starched white of the cloth. “You’re so lovely. Laura. Pretty, eloquent, intelligent, and I’m guessing talented too.”
“Well, I don’t know about talented, but thanks anyway,” I said, falling into his blue gaze, just a little. Such sweet words from such a tempting mouth were hard to resist. “But after a string of disasters I made the decision to stop dating. Relationships just didn’t seem to be working out for me.”
“Ah,” Josh said, “See, Nick, she’s sensible too.”
Nick nodded thoughtfully.
I shrugged. “Having alone time has given me space to clear my head. I lost my mother five years ago, suddenly, and the task of sorting out her things and finances was really hard on top of all the grief and—”
“Didn’t your father help?” Nick asked, a worried frown plowing across his forehead.
I shook my head. “No, I’ve never met my father. Mum brought me up alone.”
“I’m sorry,” Josh said. “Sounds like you’ve had a tough time.”
“We all have tough times.” I took a sip of wine and glanced at a couple who’d taken to the dance floor. She wore an elegant floor-length red dress and he was smart in black pants and a white shirt. They looked so comfortable together as they began to sway to the gentle melody.
“And then we all have good times,” I said. “I just needed to make a break from a vicious circle of men who weren’t interested in me for me and ditch my job in the supermarket for a photography course.” I looked back between Josh and Nick. “Mum, though we weren’t rich, left me enough to make it possible to set up my own business, Laura’s Lens. It’s making me enough money to get by, just.” I pulled a face. “Though as I said earlier, this little working holiday is somewhat of an extravagance I should have resisted.”
Both men were quiet as they studied me. Josh tugged his bottom lip with his top teeth, and Nick ran a hand over his short, black hair.
Shit, why did I have to say all that doom and gloom stuff?
I picked up my glass and pasted a broad beam on my face. One I had become adept at producing over the last five years. “So, here is to good times. Holidays full of new experiences, great wine, lovely company and…” I paused, giggled. “Fine meat.”
Josh’s face broke into a wide smile, and his gaze held mine. “Absolutely,” he said, also raising his glass. “New experiences, fine meat and all that you just said.”
Nick nodded and touched the rim of his glass to ours. “Here, here.”
We all drank, and much to my relief the tension around the table slipped away on the light breeze. I imagined it floating over the top of the ocean into the darkness, dissipating into the atmosphere. That was all in the past now. Sure, I still missed Mum with all my heart, and having no other family meant I’d had to learn to depend on me. But I was managing fine. Okay, a little haphazardly sometimes, but still, I was coping.
“Señorita, would you care for dessert?” A waiter offered me a menu.
“Thanks,” I said.
Josh took a menu, but when the waiter handed one to Nick he shook his head. “No, I’ve had plenty, thank you.”
Josh frowned at him. “You okay?”
Nick smiled and placed his napkin on the table. “I’m fine, but I’ve just remembered an email that must be replied to, it’s the close of a deal. Would you both excuse me?”
“Of course,” I said, feeling unaccountably disappointed that Nick was going, but also, at the same time, quite thrilled at the thought of having Josh to myself.
Josh reached out and covered Nick’s hand with his own. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Nick said, looking steadily at Josh. “Absolutely sure. It needs to be done.”
Josh nodded, his mouth a tight line and his eyes serious. “But only if you’re completely okay with it.”
Nick smiled and leaned forward, his body lifting slightly from the chair. He curled his hand around Josh’s nape and tugged his face close to his own. “I’m more than okay, it couldn’t be better.”
Their mouths met in a soft kiss. Josh’s head slanted away from me, and I could see Nick’s bottom lip cover his, take control. There was just a hint of a tongue, but I was unsure who it belonged to.
I held my breath. It was one of the sexiest things I’d ever witnessed. Sure I’d seen guys together on television, but I’d never taken any notice of them. But Josh and Nick, two devastatingly attractive men, into each other and tangling tongues was enough to dampen my panties and release a whole glut of long forgotten hormones. What I wouldn’t do to be kissing Josh like that, joining in, being part of their intimate, sexy action that I knew so little about.
Finally they separated. I was still staring. I couldn’t help it.
“Stay and have a nice time with, Laura,” Nick whispered. “I’ll see you when you’re done and whatever you do, don’t feel you have to rush.”
Josh swallowed and nodded. “Okay.”
Nick stood, once again reached for my hand, and touched my knuckles to his now moist lips. “It has been a delight to meet you. I’m so sorry to dash off, but please, choose the most extravagant dessert there is, for this meal is on me.”
“Oh, no, really, I’ll pay my share.”
“Absolutely not.” Nick shook his head. “I’m very grateful that you’re here in Marbella. It is quite the treat and the perfect opportunity.”
“Well, thank you very much.” I dipped into my clutch bag. “But would you take my business card, and if you ever need photographs of any of your designs, I would love to be involved, at a friend’s discounted rate of course.” I grinned.
“Thank you, Laura, that’s very kind of you.” He took the card and tucked it into his breast pocket.
I watched him walk away, as did Josh. There was something purposeful about Nick’s stiff stride. His paces ate the ground and his arms swung at his sides. His pale blue shirt stretched over wide shoulders and his dark pants hugged his neat butt.
When he slipped from view I turned to Josh. “I really don’t mind if you want to go with him.”
I do mind if you go with him. Please stay. Please stay.
“It’s fine,” Josh said with a smile. “If he’s got work on his mind it’s best to let him get on with it.” He glanced at the menu then at me. “So what do you think is suitably extravagant?”
“Mmm, how about the double deluxe chocolate rocky road to share.”
Josh laughed. A deep rumble of a sound that made my belly grow warm and a smile spread on my face.
“Perfect,” he said. “Absolutely perfect. You really are a woman after my own heart.”
The dessert came and it was completely decadent, ridiculously rich and sumptuous to the extreme. We couldn’t eat it all, not least because Josh was chattering about when he was learning to drive the fire truck, regaling me with both funny and downright alarming stories.
Eventually, I rested my spoon down, thoroughly beaten by the huge dessert. “That was delicious,” I said. “The whole meal was really special, and sitting up here.” I gestured around at the now half-empty terrace. “Listening to the music playing, and with this view, it really is lovely.”
Josh reached forward and stroked his index finger over the back of my hand. “You’re lovely,” he said quietly.
I studied his eyes. They were sure and steady and pierced mine with an acute intensity. But I wasn’t sure what he was trying to tell me with them. Had he simply thought my company lovely or was there more?
Don’t be so ridiculous, Laura, of course there isn’t more.
He glanced at the dance floor. “Would you like to dance?”
Three couples swayed as the pianist played a dreamy melody.
“That would be nice,” I said. Not only nice, but what a treat to actually touch the delectable man at my side, feel those sinfully taut muscles through his clothes and wallow in his heavenly scent for a while. Dancing with Josh would be the perfect end to the perfect evening. Of course, then he would go to bed with Nick and do whatever naked and sweaty things they did together, and I would go to bed with Rocky and his well-used, three-speed settings. I hoped I’d packed spare batteries.
Josh stood and placed a hand in the small of my back and, with a smile, urged me onto the dance floor.
“I like this song,” he said as he tugged me close. “It’s an old Lionel Richie I think.”
Oh dear Lord above. He wanted to talk about Lionel Richie when my whole body had gone on high alert. I could feel toned thighs against mine, and taut shoulder muscles beneath my palms. “Er, yes, I think you’re right, Lionel Richie.”
“Or maybe it is Marvin Gay, I can’t be sure,” Josh said, stroking a lock of my hair over my shoulder and gently tracing the thin spaghetti strap of my dress.
I gulped back a nervous lump and studied the second button down on his shirt. I was going to become a quivering pile of wanton lust on the floor if he didn’t stop touching me and holding me like he was actually appreciating my femininity.
“I love your white dress,” he murmured in a low, seductive voice. “It’s very fitting, very virginal.”
Why is he doing this? Saying these things? He’s not interested.
Confusing thoughts bombarded my mind. Perhaps Josh had a cruel streak and enjoyed leading on sex-starved women for the fun of it. Getting them all wet with desire and gagging for a bit of his action only to return to Nick and tell him what an easy conquest each woman would be if he was so inclined.
“You smell like sugar,” Josh said, pulling me a little closer and dropping his head so his chin rested at my temple. “Sugar and petals, all sweet and flowery.”
He inhaled and his rising chest touched mine. My hard nipples pressed against the cups of my bra, longing for some stimulation. There was a tiny bit, but nowhere near enough.
He exhaled and the connection went. I licked my suddenly dry lips and enjoyed the heaviness of my turned-on breasts. “It’s called Summer of Heaven, and it’s one of my favorite perfumes,” I managed.
“Mmm, it’s one of mine now.” He crooked his index finger beneath my chin and tilted my head. “It’s the complete opposite to the fragrance Nick wears.”
As my heart skipped a whole pile of beats I looked up into his face. Shadows danced across his strong features and the moonlight above us highlighted his brow, nose and stubbled jawline. A gust of breeze ruffled his hair, and I risked smoothing my hands down from his shoulders, to rest on his pectoral muscles.
“Laura,” he whispered.
My pussy clenched, and once again I wondered what kind of cruel joke God was playing on me. Just Josh’s smooth voice saying my name had me craving an orgasm.
“Laura, you are by far the most beautiful, most irresistible woman I’ve ever held in my arms,” he said quietly, his chocolate-and-wine-laced breath warming my cheek.
“I’m sure you held many lovely ladies before you met Nick,” I managed.
And I am jealous enough to scratch the eyes out of every single one of them.
“Actually no, not that I remember.”
“You’ve been together a long time, and it’s clear you’re very much in love.” I paused but held his gaze. “To have been in love with one person for so long that you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be with anyone else is lovely, it’s something I can only strive for.”
He smiled. “Sweetie, you misunderstood me.”
I ran my hands back up his chest, over his collarbones and settled them on the join between his neck and shoulders. Committing every contour to memory so I could bring it out later and enjoy the moment all over again. “I did?”
“Yes, what I was trying to say is that for me there has only ever been Nick.” He threaded his fingers into my hair, holding my head firm and cradling my skull in his palms. He stared down into my eyes. “Laura, I’ve never been with a woman, never really, truly wanted to.” He dipped his head lower, so that his lips were a whisper from mine. “Until now.”
A swirl of emotions ran through me. Josh had never been with a woman? Never really wanted to, until now? What was he talking about?
“But…” I said, pulling back. I needed to assess the situation. Josh was a virgin. Sort of.
What the hell does this mean?
He frowned and, still holding my head with one hand, wrapped his other arm around my shoulders. The pianist changed to a slower tune, and next thing I knew I was burying my face in his shirt and inhaling his fresh scent. I shut my eyes, fisted the material covering his fine torso, and willed my knees to stay co-operating with my brain. I would allow myself one minute like this. One minute of pretending this devastatingly sexy man wanted me then I would walk away and leave him to get on with his life. Get on with his married life.
One minute, that’s all I need of this crazy fantasy.
“Laura.” He spoke onto the top of my head, sending spirals of sensation over my scalp. “Are you okay?”
I nodded against his shirt. I was okay as long as I didn’t fall for his sweet talk about wanting me.
“Laura,” he said again, running a hand from the top of my spine to the base, right to my tailbone, slowly, so slowly, and as if relishing every dip and curve of my back. “I hope I haven’t upset you.”
I shook my head and pressed against him a little bit more. It was then I felt it.
The proof that he did indeed want me was hard and solid behind his jeans. There was no ignoring it. It spoke a thousand words. Fantasy or no fantasy, that hard-on was as real as the grand piano next to us.
“Lord help me,” he muttered and squeezed me closer still, trapping his cock between my belly and his body. “But you’re flicking a switch in me no one other than Nick ever has.”
I could barely even sway to the music. It was as if every nerve and fiber in my body had honed in on Josh’s straining erection.
“What does this mean?” I gasped, settling my hands around his neck and looking up at him.
“It means I want you.” He paused. “Do you want me?”
“Well, I…” There was no denying it, I gave a small nod.
He blew out a tight breath. “Damn, I want you so bad I might embarrass myself on the dance floor by coming in my pants.” He gulped and a pained expression crossed his face. “So please can we go somewhere more private? Before you bewitch me entirely.”
“But, but what about Nick?”
Go somewhere private?
“He’s fine, I promise. He likes you.”
“He might like me, but does he really want you to cheat? With me?”
How could we be talking like it was actually going to happen? That Josh and I were actually going to have sex? Fuck. Get naked and dirty and bring each other pleasure. Sweet Jesus, what I could do with that body to get me some pleasure.
“Nick and I have talked about it often. He’s older than me, traveled, lived a different life to the one we do now. He doesn’t want me to feel that I’ve missed out on enjoying a woman’s body because of us meeting when I was so young.”
“Oh, we weren’t illegal or anything, and I could have got rid of my virginity in the conventional sense if I’d wanted to, but there was never the right time.” He hovered his mouth over mine, his eyelids were heavy. “Or the right woman.”
If I could have let go of him for a second I would have pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. But I was gripping him so tight, partly to stay upright and partly because I didn’t want the bubble to burst, letting go wasn’t an option.
“So what do you say?” Josh asked. “Are you up for spending some time with me? Tonight? In bed?”
His dick was still pressed into my abdomen, and as confusing as the situation seemed to be, it was also very simple. I wanted that cock, in my pussy, as soon as possible.
I tried to restore some semblance of rationality and figure out the situation. “Do you mean that this whole evening was planned so that we, me and you, would have sex?”
His face twisted. “God no, I liked you on the beach, thought you looked great and were fun to chat to, I wanted your company this evening. Then when you were late I could feel myself getting anxious, jumpy, sick in my stomach. I wanted to see you again, desperately, and the thought that you might not show was too horrible to put into words. Then, as we talked and ate dinner, I knew there could be more.” He shook his head. “And one second of holding you in my arms, on this dance floor, has more than proved it.”
Okay he’s got me. How the hell can I refuse a night of such erotic fun?
I allowed desire to fizz around my body, wild and abandoned. “Then yes, Josh, let’s go to my room. I think we both have something to offer the other.”
Josh ensured the meal had been charged to their bill then we headed to the elevator.
“Nick and I are on the fifteenth floor,” he said as we waited.
“Oh, the posh suites.”
He grinned. “Yeah, I told you he was spoiling me. The view is fabulous and the bathroom enormous.”
The elevator arrived. It was empty and we stepped in. I hit level eight, where the standard rooms were. The doors shut with a quiet ping, and I stared at my reflection in the smoky mirrors.
My hair was still neat and my dress hugged my slim frame perfectly. But I could make out my nipples straining like two small pebbles against my bra. My eyes were dark and dense with desire, my mascara-heavy lashes framing a window to my soul— a soul that was alive with lust.
I shifted on my heels and was aware of the damp gusset of my panties.
What the hell am I doing? He’s gay, bi, curious, what about the implications of that?
“It’s okay,” he said, to my reflection. “I know what you’re thinking but I’m clean, I promise. Like I said, I’ve only ever been with Nick and we’ve been faithful for over ten years. There’s nothing I’m not telling you. I wouldn’t do that.”
I nodded, acknowledging his declaration. I believed him. “You’re lucky to have Nick, I feel like I’ve been sleeping in an empty bed forever.”
He reached for my hand, without words letting me know that was about to change, if just for one night. And oh, what a night it was going to be. I was going to get myself some serious fun. Every sensual, erogenous cell in my body was calling out for it.
I glanced at Josh’s reflection again. His head was tilted upwards as he studied the digital screen telling us which floor we were passing. Yep, I was going to share my bed with a gorgeous guy who wanted me, really wanted me in an honest, nothing hidden kind of way. And heck to the consequences, because there wouldn’t be any. I would have a night of sex and passion, then in the morning, or perhaps later on tonight, he would return to his husband and leave me wallowing in memories and satisfaction.
I firmed up my resolve. I could be a one-night-stand woman. Take what I wanted and enjoy Josh without any emotional fallout. It would be easy to be her if I knew that was the score from the outset. Plus, it would give poor old Rocky a well-earned break.
The doors slid open. Josh rested his hand in the small of my back as I led the way out. We walked along the deserted corridor. My heels sank deep on the plush carpet and my heart beat loud in my ears. Each step, a step closer to no turning back from the slightly crazy, if physically necessary, decision I’d made.
After slipping my keycard into room eighty-four, we wandered in. The maid had visited and turned back the covers on the king-size bed. A lone chocolate sat on the pillow and light from a standing lamp, by a bucket armchair, bathed the room in a warm buttery glow.
The curtains were shut against the sights and sounds of Marbella. The room was so silent and still, I was sure Josh would be able to hear the pounding in my chest and feel the vibrations the trembles in my belly created through the air.
I set my small clutch purse on the dresser and toed off my sandals.
“Nice room,” he said, glancing around and twisting his hands together.
He looked at his feet, then at the lamp, then at the blank TV screen. His face had paled, and he was gnawing at the inside of his cheek.
It was then it struck me.
Josh is nervous.
And, of course, why wouldn’t he be? The guy was a virgin. He’d never been with a woman, and despite the fact he was drop-dead gorgeous and did the deed with Nick, he was nervous—nervous of having sex with me, a woman, for the first time.
Suddenly I felt a whole lot better. My abstinence worries were nothing compared to what he was going through. I was the one who had done this before, countless times, and on occasions, with amazing success.
“Hey,” I said, moving closer. “I’m not going to bite you.”
His gaze captured mine. “I know. Well, I don’t know, actually, but I hope you won’t.”
Touching my finger against the top button of his shirt, I breathed in his lovely scent. It was stronger in my room, as if his nervousness and the four walls had intensified it. “I want this to be special for you, for me, for us both,” I whispered.
He swallowed and nodded.
“Would you like me to take off your clothes?” I asked.
“No, not yet, but will you take off yours?” He poked out his tongue and licked his lips.
“There’s not much to take off.” I backed away and gave my best seductive smile. “Just this little, hardly worth wearing dress.” As I spoke I undid the side zip and let the linen fall over my hips and down to my ankles.
His eyes followed the movement of the material, then, as it bunched on the floor, he trailed his gaze back up my body.
I tilted my hips, jauntily, and was pleased to note there was still a notable strain going on in his jeans.
“And of course I need to get rid of this silky underwear.”
He rubbed his hand over his forehead, his eyes darted between my bra and my panties.
“Josh, would you like me to take off my underwear?”
He nodded, quickly, three sharp up-and-down twitches of his head.
I smiled, pleased that I still had him and he hadn’t decided to back out. Because at this point, no amount of Rocky power would make up for him leaving before the main event.
Reaching behind myself, I unfastened the hook on my strapless bra. It was white, like my panties, and had two small cream roses in the center. It was one of my favorite underwear sets.
As the material fell away from my breasts his gaze burned into my chest. His eyes were unblinking, his breaths short and shallow.
I tossed the bra aside and tweaked my already taut nipples. I liked my nipples, they were pale and small, cute I had been told, and they were really sensitive, incredibly responsive to any kind of stimulation.
“I’ve seen plenty of women’s tits on the beach this week,” he said breathily. “But none as beautiful as yours, Laura. None that I could simply stare at all night.”
“I hope you’ll do more than stare.” I could hardly keep the lust from my voice. “I’d like to feel your lips, your tongue, the stubble on your chin scratching over them.”
He swallowed and shifted from one foot to the other. “Okay.”
“But first things first,” I said, hooking my thumbs beneath the elastic of my panties. “You said you wanted me to take off my clothes. I haven’t quite done that yet.” Very slowly I began to roll the scrap of silk and lace down. Inch by inch revealing my thin landing strip of pale brown pubic hair, and praying that the damp gusset wouldn’t be too obvious as it slid down my legs.
He stared at the juncture of my thighs as I kicked my pile of clothes away then stood totally naked before him.
“Josh,” I whispered.
“You’re exquisite,” he said softly. “And so neat.”
“You mean compared to a man?”
He nodded, still staring at my pussy. “Yes, compared to Nick, compared to me, no dangly bits, just softness and curves in all the right places.”
I suppressed a giggle. “I’m glad you think so.”
His gaze met mine. The sexual tension fizzing between us straightened my mouth and beat down my mirth.
“Oh, I more than think so. Laura, please, I want to touch you.”
“And I want to touch you, so take off your clothes too, Josh.”
Briskly, he removed his shoes and socks, shucked down his jeans and began to unbutton his shirt. It hung down over his boxers, hiding the outline of his cock.
“I don’t normally wear underwear,” he said. “It just gets in the way.”
“Lucky Nick,” I said. Impatience trickled through me as Josh fumbled with his shirt buttons, so I walked over, reached out, and with thankfully steady hands, undid his shirt. “There we go,” I said, gently pushing it over his wide, smooth shoulders. It slid down his arms and onto the floor with a quiet whoosh.
He blew out a long, low breath that breezed over my breasts, tightening my nipples farther.
“Laura,” he murmured. “Are you sure?”
“Oh, yes.” I was feasting on the sight of his golden chest. A small collection of blond hairs sat in the center of his sternum, and his nipples, like mine, were small and pale. “I want you to touch me, explore my body, and discover what it’s like to be with a woman. I want you to learn how to make a woman come.”
“There’s no buts.” I stepped back and looked down at his tight black boxers. His erect cock was tenting the material, and I couldn’t help but admire what must be an impressive girth to be creating such a large bulge. “Josh, your need is obvious, it’s there before us and was stabbing into me when we danced, but with a woman, the signs that she is turned on are more subtle.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look for the clues.” Once again I tweaked my nipples. “My breasts are desperate for you, they feel heavy and hypersensitive, my nipples so hard and seeking any kind of stimulation they can get.” I lowered my voice. “Just the breeze of your breath is making them tingle.”
He stared down at me. “It is?”
I swallowed and nodded. “Sometimes I think I could come just with the sensation of a man with a talented tongue sucking and playing with my nipples.”
“Nick tells me I have a talented tongue.”
“I don’t doubt that for a second, but you may have to hone your talents when it comes to using your tongue on my—”
“My breasts and…my pussy.”
He smoothed his palm over my sleek hair, following the shape of my skull until he cradled my cheek. His gaze was intense and unblinking, and I saw a glimmer of confidence and self-assurance growing. “I want to make you come, Laura. I want to taste you, kiss you. I want to put my dick in you and find out what it feels like to be buried, balls deep, in a beautiful woman.”
My breath hitched at his tumble of erotic words, and my mind was held hostage to a series of carnal images.
“But mostly I want to make this night memorable,” he said, “because this is my one pass, my one chance, not just to be with you, but to be with someone other than Nick. After tonight it will only ever be him, for the rest of my life.”