Chapter 18
“Touch you? That’s the last thing I want to do!” Mia protested and he laughed at her, a dark rumbling laugh that revealed her for the liar she was, for even now her traitorous fingers were itching with the need to feel his muscles flex under his golden skin.
- One Week with the Greek
NIKOS
I threw the cord around the metal rung in the concrete, tethering the last of the fishing boats to the harbor. The storm was rolling in quickly, and already the sea was an agitated sickly green.
I’d always loved storms here. They were dramatic and temperamental, like a message from the gods.
As a kid, though, they terrified me so much I’d hide in the bathroom until my grandfather would make me come out and watch.
Storms, he used to say, were nature’s way of talking to us and we had a duty to listen to what she was saying.
I couldn’t help but feel like this storm was personal.
It was like watching everything that had been roiling around inside me, battling for release—burst free at last. My frustration with the things I couldn’t change, my inability to protect this place from the encroaching world, and my damn inconvenient attraction for someone who was wrong for me in so many ways.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get her out of my head.
Every time I closed my eyes, there she was—naked and glistening in the early morning light, water lapping at her hips, water trickling over her luscious breasts—how was I supposed to get that image out of my head when it had been burned into my retinas, hell, into my very soul.
The first fat drops of rain felt cleansing, and I lifted my face up to the sky and let the wind whip past me. I was only vaguely aware of Yiannis’s voice yelling behind me.
“Niko! I just got a call from Miss Calista.” I rolled my eyes at the way he insisted on addressing her.
“And?”
“I don’t know. She said ‘help, help,’ and then the phone cut out. I went to her place, but there’s no one there.”
I was in motion before he even finished his sentence. What had she done now? She’d been up to something with Maria earlier, but it was no use trying to predict what she was capable of.
“Did you go inside?” I demanded as we sprinted toward her house.
“I peeked in the windows. There’s nothing.” Yiannis panted behind me.
I pounded at the door. No answer. Panic rose in my gut as I pushed the unlocked door open and rushed inside only to find the place empty and the terrace shutters flapping against the window. “Where the hell is she?”
Just then Giorgos appeared in the open doorway, a disgruntled expression on his face. “Not back yet?”
“What do you mean? Where did she go?”
“She took Sokratis over two hours ago. They went up that way.” He pointed toward the temple.
“Why would you let her do that?” Was he drunk? Giorgos never let Sokratis out of his sight.
He shrugged. “She said she had ponies. Sokratis likes her. Anyway, I thought you wanted to get rid of her.”
“What the fuck, Giorgos? I don’t want her to get hit by lightning.”
I headed off in the direction of the temple. The rain was coming down harder now and I stopped at the Vassilikis’ house to see if I could borrow one of their horses. It would take me a good half hour on foot and that could be too late.
I saddled their largest mare and took off.
About halfway up the mountain, the rain and hail were coming down so hard I could only see a few feet in front of me.
A shadowy shape near a gnarly old cedar caught my eye.
A bedraggled Sokratis stood there munching on grass, a cloth bag filled with drenched greens hanging at his side.
“Foraging salad greens in a storm. Un-fucking-believable.”
As I continued up the mountain, the storm began to subside.
It had been violent, but the wind was pushing it back out to sea.
Still, there weren’t many places to take cover up here, and I imagined her laying exposed to the elements on a rock somewhere.
But as I neared the temple, I spotted her curled up under one of the arches.
She waved frantically and then stopped when she saw who had come to her rescue.
“Goddammit!” she cursed, and I smiled. She obviously wasn’t hurt if she was still able to spit venom.
“Where’s Yiannis?” she cried as I tied the horse to a nearby tree. “I called him for help not you.”
I held my palms up. “I’ll just leave you here then.”
“No! Don’t you dare!” She slid down off the stone ledge of the temple, eyeing me warily.
Her hair was damp and wavy around her shoulders.
The dress she’d been wearing earlier—some wispy white slip of fabric with beads—was now clinging to her wet flesh, the plunging neckline revealing the dewy skin of her cleavage.
If I’d doubted before that she was a magical nymph sent to tempt me, I no longer needed convincing. I was completely in her thrall, and it enraged me. So did her determination to defy me at every turn.
I stared at her ridiculous shoes, those damn strappy sandals, then let my eyes glide up her trembling body, from the soft curve of her hips to those gorgeous full breasts, rising rhythmically with her rapid breathing.
Her nipples were hard. And so was I.
“This is what you wear to go hiking?” I inched closer, so close I was able to finger the fabric of her delicate sleeves, thin as a spiderweb. “Do you even own a pair of sneakers?”
She threw her head back. Her green eyes were smoky like the stormy sky. “This is how I dress. Deal with it.”
“You’re going to get sick. You’re soaking wet.”
Her eyes drifted down my white T-shirt, which clung to me like a second skin. “So are you.”
“Thanks to you.” I edged closer, invading her space. “I told you a storm was coming. I should have left you out here to learn your lesson.”
“Then why didn’t you?” Her voice was husky, her breath coming faster as my chest grazed hers, our faces inches apart.
“Because I just can’t seem to stay away from you.” Her lips parted and the space between us became thick with need, buzzing with electric energy. Like an oncoming storm.
I don’t know who made the first move, but in the next breath, our bodies collided.
I didn’t give a damn about the wind or the rain, there was nothing else except her. Her mouth, her tongue, her supple flesh beneath my hands. They were all over her, sliding over her waist, her sides, her hips, gripping at the fabric of her dress and dragging it up to slide my leg between hers.
She moaned and ground against me as her fingers swept through my hair, pulling me closer. I buried my lips in her neck, felt the frantic rhythm of her pulse, and nipped at the tender skin beneath her ear.
I dipped my tongue into the shallow hollow of her throat where a single raindrop glistened temptingly.
I held it on my tongue, because somehow it was infused with the taste of her—jasmine and honey and the muskiness of sandalwood.
She shivered as I kissed my way back up her throat.
My mouth met hers again. Her lips were deliriously soft.
Softer than I’d imagined and, God knows, I’d spent hours imagining this.
I took her bottom lip between my teeth, sucking gently, before covering her mouth again.
I was losing control. I dug my fingers into her hips. All I could think about was spreading her legs wide and rutting into her, pounding her into the stones so hard that what remained of the temple would crumble beneath us.
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” I managed to pant out. “Because in another minute I won’t be able to.”
“Don’t you dare fucking stop.” She clawed at my ass, wrapping her leg around my hips and urging me to grind into her. I could feel her heat through the wet fabric of my jeans. Fuck! I felt like a teenager. I was ready to burst.
“If you keep grinding on me like that, I’m gonna come in my pants,” I warned, biting the edge of her shoulder to keep from doing just that.
“Good,” she whispered in my ear, as she undid my fly and slid her fingers over me. “Christ, you’re massive.” She ground against me again. “Do you have a condom?”
I pulled back and stared at her in disbelief. “No, I don’t have a fucking condom. What, do you think I walk around with a spare in my pocket. Jesus, who do you think I am?”
Her fingers slid down my shaft in a V, cupping my hard-as-rock balls. “Too bad because this is your one shot. Don’t even think of touching me after this.”
“Oh yeah? I better take all I can get then.” I bent her back over my arm, feathered my fingertips down her throat, over her collarbone, and then grazed between her breasts. All that firm yet supple flesh, quivering against my hands. I dragged my eyes away and met her gaze. “No bra?”
“I was communing with nature. A bra would have defeated the purpose,” she panted. I turned my attention back to her smooth skin. I wanted to paw at her like an animal, but I held back, stroking gently, watching her nipples pebble beneath the thin white fabric.
Again, I felt like there was something electric in my fingertips, the pads of my fingers vibrated with it, like I’d harnessed the storm and I was drawing it across her body.
By the time I grazed her nipple she was panting, arching up for more.
She watched me through hooded eyes as I slowly closed my lips around the tip and sucked.
She moaned my name, and I was sure that was the end for me.
I buried my head between her tits, licking, kissing my way to the other breast. I lavished the same attention on the other nipple, sucking gently at first, rolling it between my teeth, but the way she kept pushing it in my face, I knew she wanted more.
I sucked hard, the fabric of her dress melding to the velvety tip.
She bucked and moaned as I held her back tight. I couldn’t get enough.
Her hair fell over my arm as I ran my spread hand between her breasts, admiring my handiwork. The fabric was so wet she might as well have not been wearing anything at all. Her tits were fucking glorious. I splayed my hand down her stomach, caressing in soft circles, pausing right above her mound.
“What are you going to do now?” Her glassy eyes met mine.
“I’m going to see how wet you are.” My hand moved lower, gripping her dress, edging the fabric up, and grazing the soft skin of her inner thighs.
When I reached the lace of her soaked panties, I hooked my finger and rubbed my knuckle against the seam.
She groaned and threw back her head. “Oh my God.”
Slowly I pushed her panties aside and slid her open. “Holy fuck,” I managed to breathe out. “Did I do that?”
She was so wet, so warm, and so unbelievably soft. She felt like fucking heaven. I closed my eyes as I played with her, imagining what it would feel to be inside her. But I also wanted to hurt her. Just a little. I gripped the back of her neck, forcing her to watch me.
“I asked you if I did that?”
“Did what?” She narrowed her eyes, still defiant. I pushed her against the stone column. I slid my finger deeper, pumping once, twice, grinding the palm of my hand against her clit. She shuddered and grasped me closer.
“Say it,” I growled against her, my forehead pressed against hers, and held my hand absolutely still. She wiggled her hips and groaned in frustration. “Say this is what you wanted when you said you wanted my hands on you. Say you wanted my fingers deep in your dripping cunt just like this.”
I closed my teeth lightly around her nipple and flicked my finger against her G-spot, and sob escaped her throat. “Yes, you arrogant son of a bitch. I wanted this. I wanted you to fuck me with your fingers and your tongue and your magnificent cock. Is that what you want to hear?”
“All you had to do was ask,” I said and then devoured her perfect mouth with mine.
Kissing my way down her neck, her breasts, her belly while I traced every curve of her warm, wet flesh with my fingertips, teasing, stroking as I went down on my knees, pushing her back on the small ledge, her back against the stone column.
I slid the edge of her dress above her panties, looped her leg around my shoulder, and then with one last glance to make sure she was watching, buried my head between her thighs.