“I was hoping you’d say that.”
His touch becomes firm as he explores me, this entire experience completely out of character for me. Or maybe it’s simply because my ex never would have so much as entertained the idea of doing something like this in public. I think that’s what makes it even more exciting. The notion that, at any moment, someone could look our way and realize what’s going on. But they don’t, everyone too immersed in the fireworks, the musical accompaniment being piped in through the sound system loud enough to drown out my pants and pleas for more.
“Guinevere,” he growls as he explores me with more intensity, pushing one finger inside before adding another. “Did Trevor ever turn you on like this?”
“No.” It’s the truth. Never. Not once. There was no spontaneity with him. I thought I liked that. I knew when we’d be having sex. I knew what position we’d be in. I’m starting to think that certain things can’t be planned.
“I love that I do this to you. Because you have no idea how fucking hard I am right now. How hard I get every time I think of you. You do it for me. And this isn’t me saying it as part of our game. This is me saying it because it’s true. I’m starved for you.”
“Oh god.” My eyes roll into the back of my head as the thunder of fireworks becomes more and more fevered. I was right. Julian is a damn good dirty talker. I’m pretty sure I could come from his words alone. Add in how expertly he massages me and brushes his thumb on my clit and I soon climax in time with the grand finale of the fireworks display, screaming out in utter bliss as applause and cheers fill the air.
Every inch of me trembling, I struggle to make sense out of what just happened, how I should feel about it when I desperately wanted to keep the lines from being blurred. Not only did I just blur them, I pretty much eviscerated them, all because I got swept up in the moment.
“Don’t,” he rumbles into my ear as he removes his hand, adjusting my dress to hide our indiscretions. I stare forward, my mind racing, chest heaving. “Don’t think this is anything more than what it is — two consenting adults enjoying each other’s company.”
I nod subtly, swallowing hard. How does he know my thoughts are currently clouded with guilt and embarrassment over what we’d just done, how easily I’d allowed him to touch me like that when only one man has in over a decade? I haven’t even been single a full month, yet am already spreading my legs for someone else, a relative stranger. Granted, Trevor doesn’t seem to be bothered by the idea of being with someone new so soon, but it feels…wrong.
“You deserve to feel beautiful, to feel desired, to feel adored. That’s all I wanted. Okay?”
I turn around, locking eyes with him, his expression a mixture of hunger and remorse, a near mirror image of the war currently battling inside my own heart. How can I tell him I want him, but with every second we spend together, the harder it will be to walk away from him at the end of the summer? That if he keeps touching me like that he’ll ruin me for all the men who come after him? And there will be men who come after him. He made sure of that. We both did.
“The ball’s in your court, Guinevere. If you want to explore this connection further, I’m more than willing. If you’re not comfortable with having a strictly physical relationship, I understand that, as well. Just know that I am insanely attracted to you. And I will be no matter what you choose.”
My breathing is still labored from the after-effects of the orgasm rolling through me as I peer into his eyes, desperately wanting to crush my lips to his, wrap my arms around him, and allow him to consume me in a way I believe only he can. But can I really do this? I feel like I’m standing in the door of a plane, torn between jumping out and experiencing the exhilaration of flying, or returning to the ground from the safety of my seat.
I’m about to share my fears when Sadie’s familiar voice cuts through. “There you two are!”
I jump away from Julian, as if we’d just been caught doing something we shouldn’t. I’m not Catholic, but I have a feeling this is what the Catholic guilt I’ve heard so much about must feel like. I search the area, my eyes settling on her approaching with Christopher and a man I estimate to be in his fifties.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I wanted to introduce you to my uncle Clinton.” She leans in, lowering her voice. “He’s my cool uncle.” She winks an exaggerated wink as he laughs politely.
“Trust me,” Clinton says. “It’s not a stiff competition. Most in the family are—”
“Uptight,” Sadie offers.
“Pricks,” Clinton interjects immediately. “I was going to say pricks.” He beams down at Sadie, an affection between them I haven’t seen much out here. It’s obvious she has a great deal of respect for her uncle, and he has a great deal of admiration for his niece, regardless of any fallout from her marrying Christopher. “But I suppose uptight is more agreeable.” He returns his attention back to us, extending his hand toward Julian. “Clinton Alderman.”
I stare at it, horrified over the idea of Julian shaking his hand after what he just did, then realize he used his left one with me. If he was that talented with his left hand, I can only imagine what he could do with his predominate one. A blush heats my cheeks as they shake politely.
“Julian Gage.”
“Nice to finally meet you, Julian.”
“And you.” He turns his attention toward me. “This is my girlfriend, Guinevere Fitzgerald.”
Clinton looks toward me, his eyes finding mine. But unlike so many other men I’ve met here, he doesn’t appraise me like a piece of meat. He looks at me like I’m a human being. It’s refreshing.
“Lovely to meet you, Guinevere.”
“Evie,” I correct. “You can just call me Evie.”
“Evie.”
After we all exchange pleasantries, Clinton turns back to Julian. “Sadie mentioned you’re in the process of expanding your charitable branch overseas and are trying to get the ball rolling to open up shelters for women in high-risk areas.”
I snap my head toward Julian, surprised by this. I’m not sure what I thought this big project of his was. I simply thought it was to build some ridiculously luxurious hotel in Dubai, something that could increase his income substantially. But to find out it’s a charitable project? Another piece of the Julian Gage puzzle snaps into place.
“I’m sure I didn’t get all the details correct,” Sadie adds. “Just what I picked up from Christopher.”
“It’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time.” He turns his attention to Clinton, his demeanor becoming serious, flipping the switch from seductive Julian to businessman Julian. “When I inherited Theodore Price’s fortune, the first thing I did was begin a charity here in the States. Our mission is to provide a safe haven for women in abusive relationships. At least here, we get some assistance from criminal justice agencies. Which got me thinking about what it must be like for women in countries and cultures where this kind of abuse isn’t frowned upon. In fact, it’s encouraged as part of their customs. I want to do something to help these women, but expanding overseas isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. There’s quite a bit of red tape I have to cut through to even consider the possibility.”
“Well, I may just be able to help you. I’m not sure what Sadie’s told you about me, but I’m in the oil industry.”
“I know.”
“And in the oil industry, red tape is our specialty.” He winks, then jovially slaps Julian on the back. “Come with me. A few of us are digging into Graham Salazar’s cigar stash. You should join us.”
“I’d love to.” Smoothing the lines of his shirt, he steps away from me, exuding all the confidence and poise I’ve come to expect from him.
“Chris, you should join us, as well.”
Christopher’s dark eyes widen. He drops his hold on Sadie, joining Julian and Clinton.