Chapter Ninety One

Triumph coursed through him as he rocked deep within her, as he felt her dissolve beneath him, heard the cries of her assent. And he wanted to join her, to tip into oblivion, but the climb to the summit was wondrous. Here the air was clearer, the sounds more vivid, the colours brighter, and he wanted to linger, to find the answer to what would happen if he stayed, if he lingered, if he ventured on to an uncharted place… He kissed her for sustenance, took her weary, shocked lips in his and confirmed his intent. And then he told her, stared into the lusty black of her pupils and showed her a different way.

‘This is how it could be.’

She had thought her body spent, yet it was nowhere near. The languorous, slow lovemaking he had teased her with before was replaced, and the urgent, demanding pressure she had sought earlier was given to her now. He was relentless, his arms wrapped around her, his face smothering hers, kissing her eyes, her mouth, her face, her ears, driving deep into her as her hips rose to a rhythm that matched his. And she was crying and pleading, because it was as close to the edge as she ever wanted to venture, yet she wanted to be there all the same. Scared to jump, to fall, she wanted to roll back at the last minute, to save herself—except Collins had just gone, his body moving fast and then stilling as he released, and it ripped through her like lightning. She had an image then, as if he were offering her his hand, and instead of rolling away she took it, jumped with him to a place of freedom where she could scream out his name as her body spasmed while he emptied into her, her feminine muscles pulsing in perfect time with his. And then he caught her, with soft, deep strokes that brought her slowly back to her senses, that soothed her twitching body to a new state of calm.

A peaceful calm like one she had never witnessed.

All the heat was fading, their glistening bodies cooling as he kissed her back to the world, and then he said it again.

‘This is how it could be.’

Jasmine smiled...

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'Now that was better than good,' he said when he'd recovered breath enough to speak.

'Mmm..,' she purred against his chest.

'You're not to go back to sleep, Jasmine.'

'I know. Just making sure you're real,' she mumbled, gliding a hand towards his groin.

'Believe it.' He grabbed her seductive hand and pressed it over his heart, which was still thumping at an accelerated rate, very much alive and kicking.

However, the practical reality was she needed to get out and do some walking after her long flight or her body clock would never catch up to L.A. time. As much as he was tempted to stay right where he was all afternoon, it wouldn't be good for her. Besides which, he could completely sate himself with her tonight. He had a whole week of nights to do what he wanted.

'Have you been to L.A. before, Jasmine?'

'No. First time.' she replied.

'And you haven't moved from this suite since you arrived?'

'I was waiting for you.'

'Well, now that I'm here, I'll take you out for some sight-seeing. We'll go to Santa Monica, walk down the mall, pick up something to eat, watch the buskers, look at the stalls. Maybe stroll along the beach.'

He grinned as he recalled their first night together at Spoon Bay. She was like a siren from the sea, still calling to him. Even her pets were fish. He wound his other hand through her hair and lightly tugged, feeling the tide of desire rising again and knowing he should stave it off.

'Okay with you?' She levered herself up to smile happy agreement at him.

'Now that you mention it, I am hungry.' she said.

'Want something to eat first?'

'No. I'd rather go out.'

'Then let's get dressed and go.'

She rolled off the bed, picked up a bathrobe and had it on before he could really savour the sight of her naked. But then her arm lifted and hoisted the rippling mass of her hair out from under the collar and he enjoyed watching the long silky tresses float around her shoulders as she headed for the bathroom.

Jasmine.... Jasmine Leclaire.

He was fully aroused again. Control was almost a lost cause around her. Cold shower, he dictated, and no looking at her until she presented herself fully dressed. There were three bedrooms and four bathroomsin this suite. He took himself off to the bedroom where he'd directed his luggage be dropped and enforced the necessary discipline, although there was no suppressing the zing of anticipation in his blood.

There was no other woman like her.

Not in his experience.

Maybe spending a week with her would diminish the addictive powers she had over him, show him she wasn't so attractive when it came to mixing in other areas of his life. What little time they'd spent together had been hyper-time, intensely sexual. He needed to slow that down, explore more of her, get some all-encompassing perspective that would let him feel free to move on from here.

That was a reasonable plan of action.

But as he forced himself to move out into the living room and plant himself in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, which gave a magnificent view of the skyline, he could barely bring himself to wait until she appeared.

Jasmine was on tenterhooks that Collins might follow her into the bathroom. Her heart was galloping at the prospect, frightened that he would notice the thickening of her waist, which she could do nothing to disguise. He hadn't commented on it in bed, but touch was different to sight and they'd both been caught up in the urgent need for intimate connection.

She beat all speed records under the shower and wrapped herself in the bathrobe again before returning to the bedroom to dress. It was a huge relief to find Collins gone from it, but aware that he was somewhere in the suite and could re-join her at any moment, she wasted no time in choosing what to wear. Walking, he'd said.