The Gideon Affair Page 19

  Guiding Paige down a flight of wood steps took but moments. The girl didn’t know the meaning of being careful and bounded down to the sand like a kid who’d just heard the recess bell ring.

  “Oh, wow.” Flinging her arms wide, she whirled around with her face shining in the moonlight. “I love the beach at night.” She was whispering as if it was some deep, dark guilty secret.

  “Come on, Moon Babe. Let’s walk.”

  When she eagerly took his hand, a veritable Wikipedia page fell out of her mouth as she rambled on about tides and lunar cycles. Edward felt a surge of happiness so overwhelming, he had to wonder how he’d gotten to thirty-two without ever knowing such contentment.

  They’d strolled from the warm sands down to the wetter part of the shoreline and had taken maybe a dozen steps when Paige shrieked and started dragging him away from the surf. “Your pants will be ruined if they get wet.”

  What? His pants? Fuck his pants. He couldn’t care less, not when he was enjoying himself so much.

  Without warning, she dropped to her knees and started methodically rolling up the hem, enough so the bottoms didn’t end up seawater soaked and caked with wet sand.

  When she finished the first leg and shimmied in the sand to the next, Edward swallowed hard. Paige on her knees at his feet was too fucking much for his brain to comprehend. Especially when she kept looking up at him with an expression that confirmed, yes, she knew exactly how provocative their positions were.

  Resting on her feet, she surveyed her handiwork then so slowly he was sure time stalled, she quite boldly looked him over. The amount of time Paige spent studying his thighs made him light-headed. She wet her lips over and over, a sure sign that she was struggling with some impulse or another. He wondered what it could be.

  And then her gaze lifted to his rather obvious erection. He couldn’t help it. Just being around her when she was so at ease and lighthearted turned his flesh hard and aching. No one but Paige had ever been so free-spirited and authentic around him. It was fucked up in some way. There had been plenty of women in his life—all of them temporary and quite a few just for the moment. Those ladies, willing and capable to the last one, simply played a part that did not require an actual connection. Or emotion.

  She blinked twice and said nothing. All she did was stare. Edward put a finger under her chin and lifted. Eyes that looked huge in an otherwise serene face locked on his. So still, he wasn’t entirely sure either of them was breathing, he used his thumb to swipe along her bottom lip. She shuddered slightly but never looked away.

  “That’s for you—when you’re ready.” The words came out of nowhere. It wasn’t what he’d intended to say.

  Drifting clouds shadowed the moon, leaving them in semi-darkness. A prickling sensation rushed up his neck. He wanted her so much; the need left a taste in his mouth. In all honesty, he couldn’t take another second of Paige on her knees.

  Sliding his hands under her arms, he lifted her off the sand and hauled her body against his, immediately aware of her hands stroking his chest. Once plastered together, Paige wrapped her arms around his neck and went for his head. Nails scraped his scalp sending shudders of pleasure into every corner of his being.

  This time she didn’t bother waiting for him to kiss her. Seizing the initiative, she went up on her toes for better access and angled her head just so, then started slowly nibbling on his lips. The thrilling sexiness of her teeth and lips getting busy held off his temptation to crush her to him and kiss her stupid.

  When he tried to control the near-kiss, she eased off. Recognizing the signal, Edward reached for her ass instead because there was no way in hell he wanted her to stop. That one small action told him so much. She needed control. Not all the time—that much he already knew. But his sexy friend had needs that he was happy to meet. Did she want to take the lead? Fine with him. For now.

  When he grabbed her bottom and lifted till they fit like puzzle pieces, her toes barely touched the sand and her soft warmth cradled his throbbing staff. At that moment, the nibbling stopped, as did everything else, until she aimed for his mouth. Then all hell broke loose.

  Hungry, desperate lips clashed. There was no pause as they devoured each other. Paige sucked on his bottom lip; he squeezed her ass and ground their bodies together. The fingers in his hair were massaging his scalp, telling him where she wanted his head. He followed her lead, kissing her as wildly as she writhed in his hold. When her tongue invaded his mouth, the grunt that rumbled up from deep inside him had a primal quality to it when the sound mixed with the thundering surf.

  Tearing his mouth away, he growled against her neck. “Put your legs around my waist.”

  Paige moaned then he heard his name. “Edward …” The wavering in her voice excited him. This was no randy starlet willing to debase herself for a celebrity. He bet she’d never lost control out in public and knew without a shadow of a doubt the same would be true in bed. Right then and there, his mission in life was to make her surrender everything to him.

  “Do you trust me, babe?”

  “Yes.” The lack of hesitation or pretense pretty much sealed her fate.

  “Then wrap those wicked legs around my waist and hold on tight. Don’t worry,” he chortled as her ass got a hefty squeeze. “I’ve got you.”

  Without any effort whatsoever, her arms around his neck tightened, and she pulled her legs up as he held her bottom, opening wider to wrap them around his middle. They each shuddered when her heat hit his flesh. No fucking way was any more kissing going to happen until he got them somewhere private.

  Striding with Paige firmly pressed against him, Edward worried he’d embarrass himself before they got back to the house because, unbelievably, he was so turned on that a spontaneous orgasm was a distinct possibility. She wasn’t playing fair either because as he walked, navigating them safely across the sand, Paige was mauling his neck. She had a handful of his hair in one hand, and she had pulled open the neck of his shirt with the other. The girl might have some vampire blood rolling through her veins if the way she destroyed his flesh was any indication.

  When he got them to the stairs, he firmed up his grip while she tightened her legs. It would be a fucking miracle if they made it to the top with his sanity intact. The minute he started climbing, Edward knew he was fucked. Each time he surged up a step, his aching erection pushed into her hot center. In his mind’s eye, he envisioned them naked; his cock buried deep, her whole body lifting as he impaled her with each step. Oh, god. Not good. Not good at all.

  On the deck, his hands greedily pawed the bare skin on her legs, dimly but magnificently aware that she was rolling her hips in slow, maddening circles, tantalizing his manhood with the sensuous encouragement.

  Enough. Keeping one arm under her ass, he reached for her hair, tearing it loose and fisting a mass of curls, then claimed her mouth in no uncertain terms. He was on fire; the flames of sweet desire she evoked fanned higher and higher until heat encased them.

  Her mouth opened on his urging, his tongue wasting no time going deep. She tasted so fucking good and the soft whimpers she made as he devoured her mouth made his cock even harder.

  What the hell were they doing? One minute, it was an innocent walk on the beach, and then the next, she was on her knees, and common sense took a hike.

  “Oh, my god, Paige,” he wheezed through desperate breaths as he tried to calm their passion. She didn’t seem to notice. Or care. Mostly, she kept squirming against his dick and greedily chasing his lips for more.

  “Sweetheart,” he begged in a husky voice. His control was hanging by a thread. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

  Hello, ice-cold water. Sheesh.

  Wanting to scream as he carefully set her on two very unsteady legs, Paige grasped at emotional straws to get through.

  Did she know what she was doing? I mean, after all, wasn’t she the one who got all sulky and proclaimed that she wouldn’t be sleeping with him.

  Edward cupped the sides
of her face with his beautiful, big hands and forced her to look at him. Didn’t he know that those blue eyes of his rendered her witless and giggly?

  “Talk to me. I need you to let me in, Paige.”

  With his thumbs softly sweeping her cheeks, she fell headlong into his gaze and rather spectacularly lost her way. Holding on to his wrists, she took a deep breath and let go of her emotions. This was a moment to be authentic and to do that she had to be flying free.

  “Do you ever wonder,” she asked in a serious, hushed murmur, “when you see other couples, whether they were friends first or second.”

  She couldn’t read very much in his bemused expression as he thought about her question. Maybe she’d put it badly.

  “You know, like Sam and Troy. They met, hit it off, and immediately started having angry, loud monkey sex. Then boom, they got married. Life went on though I’m not so sure about the primate sex. Then they had a kid and before the little guy is three, they’re spitting at each other in a lawyer’s office.”

  His solemn nod tugged at her heart. “That shit’s fucked up.”

  She held tight to his wrists. “Right. It is. So … when were they friends? Or were they ever friends? Does that make sense?”

  It would have been fine and dandy with her if they stood there all night, his hands on her face and his just inches from hers.

  Edward lowered his forehead to hers for a second, and then kissed the tip of her nose.

  “I understand. You’re questioning how relationships begin. Whether raucous monkey loving first sets a couple up for problems later. They never took the time to explore the bedrock of any relationship—the friendship.”

  “Yes,” she growled dramatically. “That’s exactly what I mean. Edward,” she exclaimed with a short sigh, “we’re already friends and …”

  “Correction, Miss Turner. You’re my best friend and that has to count for something.”

  “Come on,” she urged, turning from his embrace. “Let’s go inside. If we’re going to talk about this, I can’t have the wind blowing up my skirt.” When he chuckled at her jest, she smiled, too. “I’m serious, Banning. There’s a breeze tickling my bottom …”

  “What,” he bellowed in mock outrage. “Nobody tickles your bottom but me, sweetheart.” And with that, he dipped a shoulder and in two seconds had hoisted her until she was hanging down his back with her legs flailing about. He wrapped them in his arm and smacked her butt. “Be still or I might drop you.”

  “Edward! My god! Be serious and put me down,” she yelped.

  He did no such thing, marching them into the house, and even stopping to secure the patio doors, then headed straight for the living room. Dumping her into an unladylike sprawl on the enormous sectional, he pretended not to notice her sputtering with a tongue-firmly-in-cheek smirk.

  “I think we need an Irish coffee. Warm us up. You turn on the fireplace,” he told her as he pushed the smart home pad into her hands. “So what’s your pleasure, sweetheart? Unleaded Baileys or full power Jameson?”

  She harrumphed for good measure but started working the tech device. My word but he was bossy sometimes. “I’m not driving, so Jameson’s fine for me, thanks.”

  He started to walk away but stopped and turned back around. “I’d offer you a hoodie for warmth, but that’d deprive me of staring at your pretty nipples.” His half-embarrassed shrug made him look like a little boy who just got caught with his dad’s nudie magazines.

  “I’ll survive your brutish ways," she quipped. “But don’t think I’m not telling your mom how mean you are.”

  “I’ll dial the phone.”

  Paige stood and threw the controller onto the sofa. “You. Kitchen. Coffee. Now,” she commanded with her finger pointing the way. “I gotta pee.”

  “Oh, that’s nice, Miss Turner. Thanks for sharing,” he hollered after her as she scooted into the half bath behind the kitchen.

  “I’ll be damned,” Edward muttered out loud. “These look pretty good to me.”

  On the counter sat two beautifully prepared Irish coffees and a small plate of vanilla biscotti he’d picked up at the farmer’s market. He didn’t doubt that Paige knew full well that he’d deliberately defused the sexual tension with the coffee suggestion so she could catch her breath. Him, too, if he were being honest.

  It wasn’t hard to imagine what she was thinking. She was being pretty transparent, and he was a couple of steps ahead of her having already picked apart the friends versus lovers scenario.

  They hadn’t just met. Tonight might have been a first date, but their friendship was already well into the deep and meaningful territory. They didn’t have to wonder if they were compatible because they already knew. The great unknown was what happened to that closeness after they became lovers. He had quite a lot to say about the subject—so, coffee it was.

  He found her on the sofa, her legs tucked under her bottom, both arms on the cushioned back with her head lying sideways on top, as she looked toward the windows. Her hair was down, her feet bare. All she had on was a slinky dress with no bra. She’d had a thong on before. He knew this from their tickle attack on the sofa at her house. Whether she still wore it was a mystery he hoped to solve.

  “High octane, as requested.”

  When she turned from the window, her pensive look reminded Edward that she was an uncommon treasure. A rare find. He knew for sure that he’d only be happy if she were in his life. Permanently.

  “Thanks.”

  He joined her on the sofa draping an arm across the back so he’d be able to touch her back and shoulders. The silence deepened while they sat side by side, sipping the fragrant, intoxicating drink. She said nothing, but he could hear her mind working.

  “Back to Samantha, Troy, and their shitty example of a relationship.”

  She arched a brow as she sipped.

  “Look, I like both of them, but let’s be honest. Those two were shitheads from the start.”

  “Humph.” Her head nodded infinitesimally, but the agreement came across loud and clear.

  “Now that you’ve brought it up, I also have to wonder if it’s possible to go from sex partner to friend. Hormones would always cloud the picture, you know?”

  They sipped in silence. He was making this shit up as he went along and was being extra careful to think through what he was saying.

  “I knew a couple of years ago that fucking you was not an option.”

  Okay, yeah. He had to admit he’d framed his statement that way to get a reaction out of her. He expected shock. Or outrage. What he got was all the color draining from her face and the sheen of tears sparkling in her eyes. Oh, fuck. My bad. Say the rest, you idiot!

  Her hands were trembling—barely—but he noticed. Taking the coffee mug from her, he put it on the sofa table and drew her closer. She was stiff as a board and looking like he’d just ruined Santa Claus and Christmas forever.

  “Don’t you wimp out on me now, Turner. You said you trusted me. Remember?”

  She nodded. It was strange seeing her at a loss for words. At the same time, her strong reaction showed him how much she truly cared. Cradling her with an arm around her shoulders, Edward put his lips to her forehead.

  “I knew this because an exchange of body fluid would never, ever be enough with you, Paige.” She looked up at the same time that he sought her eyes. “This … realization,” he grimaced at the clumsy word, but it fit so he had to suck it up, “was the first step to admitting I had deep feelings for you.”

  “Oh.” She sounded surprised.

  Edward smiled. Well, she better get used to hearing him say it.

  “Let’s face it, babe. I can pretty much fuck anybody.” His shoulders rose and fell in a self-deprecating version of a shrug. “Ya get a certificate that says so when they name you sexiest man.”

  True to form, she gasped in surprise at his sudden, comical conversational pivot and nudged him playfully with her shoulder. Time to lob a grenade and see if it took down her defenses.<
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  “I want to make love to you, Paige. And I’ve never said that or felt this way before in my entire life. We’re making our own rules as we go, sweetheart. There’s no one I’d rather spend time with and yet tonight was our very first real date. Just like our not wanting the Gideon mess to fuck with what’s real between us, I don’t want you to have any doubt about how I feel. All of this,” he indicated with a wave that arced back and forth between them, “is a first for me. For you, too.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “I have never told another man that I was in love with him.”

  “I know. And I know why you told me so directly. I’m not shitting around here. You can test me all you want, but I’m telling you the truth. Fucking you isn’t an option, Paige, because nothing short of giving my heart to you as we make love would ever do. Not for us. This is huge, Paige. I love you. You love me. Yeah, the Gideon thing is a bit fucked up at the moment, but let’s not lose sight of what’s real.”

  Her response? Priceless times a hundred. Never one to turn her back on a good conversation, she didn’t say one word; just started undoing his tie with the intense concentration of a jet pilot on takeoff. When she had it pulled apart, she yanked until it slid from around his neck, and for a long minute, she sat there with it in her hands.

  He wondered what she was thinking because he instantly came up with at least five ways the blue tie could come in handy. Did she have kinky fuckery fantasies? Or was she more the shy and reserved sort? God. He hoped not. But if she were, he’d be more than happy to help her overcome her insecurities.

  The tie forgotten, she focused on his shirt, deftly sliding the buttons free until it parted. He held his breath as she touched him, tentatively at first, until her hands stroked his muscled chest. Has she dreamed of being able to touch him as he had of her? Hell, his work wardrobe consisted of being bare-chested most of the fucking time, so he knew she’d seen him half-naked plenty of times. The way her fingers explored his skin suggested long-hidden desires. Nothing had ever felt so right.