Taylor's Law, page 18
“Finish the story, Eleanor.”
“I told you some of this the day I couldn’t get a babysitter and Bronwyn turned up at your office with Peter. I couldn’t remember the details, couldn’t remember the name of the woman. Grace did. Julia. Odd, don’t you think, that Drew had a fiancée with the same name as your fiancée?” She frowned as if trying to unravel a puzzle.
“Are you asking me to confirm or deny his story?” Jake studied the bubbles in his champagne flute as Eleanor inched her way towards the truth. His mouth went dry waiting for her to decide his guilt.
“I know the answer to that. It’s why Chrissy asked you to fix things. Drew left Australia with your Julia.” She presented her judgement.
“You’re sure.” Light pushed into the dark places in his mind.
“Dating another woman was a simple way to show Chrissy it was over between them. Dating your fiancée is harder to understand.”
“But you’ve worked that out?” He lifted his head, freed of a burden.
“I’ve met men like Drew before. They tell slanderous stories or assume confected outrage at others, but the bad behaviour is all their own. I’m guessing the motives he attributed to you are his. He doesn’t want you to be happy. He’s jealous of you. He’ll hurt you if he can. Am I right?”
Long-held tension leaked out of Jake’s body. Eleanor’s clever guesswork absolved him of disloyalty to his family. He merely had to confirm the truth. But in inviting him here and telling this story, she’d given him something Julia never had: the benefit of the doubt.
“Julia comes from a big, boisterous family. When she saw Drew and I didn’t get on, she decided to engineer a reconciliation. I wouldn’t discuss it, so she talked to Drew. He was happy to talk about our relationship, his grievances. He told her I was intent on destroying his life. Ultimately, he convinced her, making her question our marriage. She told him of her doubts.” He’d never told this story before, but he couldn’t stop now. “Drew said it freed him to tell her of his love.”
“You booked the room at the hotel that night,” she said slowly. “For you and Julia. Did you find them in bed together?”
“Classic cliché, Eleanor.” He couldn’t hide his grin.
* * *
“How did Chrissy get there?” Ella bit her lower lip as she considered possibilities, examining this new piece of the jigsaw puzzle of her sister’s love life. “Drew called her?”
“I don’t know the answer to that.”
“She wasn’t worth years of regret, Jake.” She waved her champagne flute, chastising him.
“Are you referring to Julia here, or Chrissy?”
“Now I know you better, probably both. I’m not blind to my sister’s flaws. You would have sympathised with Chrissy’s betrayal.” That’s why her sister had spent the night at the hotel. Even dealing with his own shock and betrayal, he’d had space to consider her sister’s distress. His compassion was bone-deep.
“Julia came back to me,” he said matter-of-factly. “Drew dumped her after six months. He wasn’t really interested in Julia.”
“Was he punishing you, or trying to get rid of Chrissy? Or did he get lucky and kill two birds with one stone?” Thinking aloud, Ella found the answer. “That’s it!”
“Didn’t your mother tell you if you frown like that the wind might change and you’ll stay that way permanently?”
“My mother doesn’t tell lies,” she admonished him. “Did you try to make it work?”
“You mean, did I want to make it work? It was beyond fixing, and Julia knew it. But she said something that stuck with me.”
“What?” she asked when he hesitated. “I can keep a confidence, Counsellor.” If he shared a confidence, it meant he’d learned to trust her a little, and perhaps there’d been value in the lonely weeks spent apart.
“She said if I’d trusted her enough, I’d have told her Drew was jealous of me. Told her my side of the story.” He frowned, an admission he was aware of the barriers he erected around himself.
“Fair point. She had a right to believe you’d talk to her, trust her first, last and always. But she made the same mistake. She talked to Drew about her doubts about you. She should have talked to you.” Yet if she had, Ella wouldn’t be alone with Jake now, learning that loyalty to his family was a formidable obstacle to anyone seeking to get close to him.
“Did Robert ask for a reconciliation?”
“There is no way back from describing someone as boring in bed.” Ella discovered that Robert Hall’s rejection had lost its sting.
He smiled. “We have lousy taste in lovers.”
“I appreciate you respecting my need to make up my own mind about Drew. I respect your integrity in not trying to influence me. You’re an honourable man.” Attraction, respect, trust gave her the courage to push harder. “Does that mean you can’t see me?”
“If I see you, I want to touch you.” His voice was a rumbling caress.
Ella let out the breath she’d been holding and reached a hand across the table to take his. “Who’s stopping you?”
When a slow, sultry smile spread across his face, the thrumming in Ella’s blood became a staccato beat. A knot in her stomach unclenched, then dissolved into a puddle of heat in her lower belly. The fear he might not look at her with that lick of heat in his eyes again had left her listless. She hadn’t been able to shake her low spirits, even knowing she couldn’t afford to rely on him. He wasn’t offering her more than an affair. His deep loyalty to his aunt and uncle drove his silence about Drew. A sense of obligation sealing off part of his heart.
Would he lower his barricades for her? Let her into his life?
“Aren’t you going to pounce?” She tried to smile.
“Where’s the surprise in that?” He stood, topped off both glasses and walked around the table, keeping hold of her hand. “Bring your glass.”
Ella let him lead her to her own sofa, sat obediently and watched him circle the room. A match flickered, and the creamy, slightly exotic scent of the vanilla-soy candles she’d set on side tables filled the space. Then the unmistakable sound of Ed Sheeran—the last track she’d played—crooning “... people fall in love in mysterious ways,” rolled over her. The overhead light clicking off cocooned her in a world of Jake’s creation. Anticipation skittered through her, and the butterflies in her stomach jostled for room. He joined her on the sofa, his muscled thigh resting against hers.
“One day we’ll do this under a real night sky, but tonight we’ll have make-believe, with your star-covered ceiling. Sip your drink, Eleanor. Let the French bubbles weave their magic.”
“I’m not nervous.”
He flashed her a quizzical look.
“Nervous is the wrong word.” She sipped, savouring the effervescent alcohol, feeling each bubble pop in her bloodstream. Her body unravelled in steady delight. “Try happy, excited. Okay, I’ve got a few nerves.”
“Let me take that.” Placing his glass on the side table, he took hers and set it aside. When he lifted her into his lap, she sighed.
“I want to touch too,” Ella confessed, reaching around to tug the thin leather strap from his hair, dropping it behind the sofa, hopefully never to be found again. “Every time I see you, I want to do that. I love your hair, those thick, glossy locks. The perfect anchor for my hands. If I hang on”—she twined her hands in his hair and tugged him closer—“I can do this.”
Touching her mouth to his, she sampled texture and taste, then drew back. “You’re beautiful, you know.” On her second excursion, she traced his lower lip with her tongue, teasing and testing her control. “Such a classically beautiful face.” She brushed her lips over one cheekbone, then the other. “Strong bones, fine lines.”
“Eleanor.”
She paused her exploration. “Mmm.”
“Stop talking.” He caught her lower lip between his teeth, feasted on it while his hands swept up her sides. He groaned, drawing her with him as he slid down the sofa. She was aware of being nestled between the back of the sofa and his lean length and growing arousal.
Again and again, he dipped into her mouth. Kisses that emptied her mind, drugged her senses, and stirred a craving for more. Don’t stop, the words beat a tattoo in her brain. Never stop. Desperate for his heat, she pushed her hands under his shirt.
“Your hands are cold.” His muscles instinctively tightened. “Cold hands, warm heart,” he crooned.
The craving to touch everywhere, to taste everything drove her. She strained to get closer—caution had made them wait too long when her heart knew they belonged together.
“Help me, help me, help me.” Wriggling out from under his relentlessly tender caresses, Ella knelt on the sofa, her breathing coming in short shallow bursts. Desperate, she’d pulled the sweater over her head, craving closeness. Instead, she’d trapped her hands in her sleeves.
“Let me help,” he murmured, still teasing her with his touch. Caught in the blindness of her confining clothing, Ella’s awareness narrowed to the fingers tiptoeing across her midriff. Firm, warm, sure in their destination, and still he teased. Pushing her bra aside, he brushed his open palms back and forth across her breasts—tantalisingly light. She cried out with pleasure. “You like that.” He sounded entranced before his mouth closed over an erect nipple. He suckled, the pull echoing deep in her pelvis.
“I want to see you.” When she flung her sweater aside, he lifted his head, his eyes dark with demand. “Yes,” she moaned, seeing her need reflected in his eyes.
“You’re lovely,” he whispered.
Demand dragged at her loins. Hot, wet, wanting. Threading her hands into his hair, she pulled hard. His eyes were unfocused, his mouth dipping in a sensual curve. “My turn,” she breathed, pushing him back on his heels. With urgent fingers, she slipped the first button, moved to the second. Ella purred as the backs of her fingers brushed across his chest. Deep within her, a motor hummed as her body caught the rhythm of his, the steady rise and fall of his chest. She watched their silhouettes dance on the wall opposite—a mating ritual, where she’d found her perfect mate.
“Yes. Please. More,” he murmured words of encouragement while she worked on his buttons, his hands resting against his thighs. The heat surrounding her became palpable, burning off him. Anticipation was a firestorm, ignited by the intoxicating scent of arousal. Heaven smelt like this. When she drew him up to reach for his belt buckle, he shrugged the crisp business shirt off his shoulders. Seeing his muscled torso made her mouth water.
“Wait.” His husky growl stopped her fumbling with his zipper.
“You’re kidding.” Ella’s fingers trembled. He couldn’t mean it.
He closed his hands over hers. “Decide now. Here or the bed.”
“I won’t make it to the bed.” She yanked the zipper down the last few centimetres and started pushing the worsted wool off his hips.
“Right answer.” He slid to the floor, taking her with him.
They rolled on the thick rug. His trousers caught at his ankles. His fingers skimmed her buttocks, gliding under the leg of her knickers, before sliding into her, then out, enticing her to rise higher, to surrender to her pleasure. She cried out.
He swallowed her cry, then launched a fresh assault on her senses, his tongue mimicking the action of his clever fingers teasing her clitoris. She was boneless, melting over him.
“Jake—” She tumbled into a sharp, sweet orgasm.
“You taste good, Ellie.” He sucked her juices from his fingers.
Ella had never felt more powerful. That single erotic action shattered any doubt he might not want her as much as she wanted him. Touch was compulsive, addictive. She ran her palms over his shoulders, down his back, urging him towards her.
“You’re more stunning than I imagined.” He lavished her with words of praise. “And I imagined a lot.” He started a new rhythm. The slip and slide of her leg over his thigh, of his arm over her torso, of his hand over her breast, of her fingers clinging to his as she drew his body to hers.
“You’re stunning too.” She grabbed his hair to ground herself. Temptation and torture and every moment, every movement, a pleasure more intense than Ella had ever known.
“We’re both stunning.” He rolled her onto her back. Crouching above her, he trailed kisses from her throat to her core, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. What Jake could do with his mouth was a revelation. This was how loving should be. Ed Sheeran’s voice soared in the background.
“I want—" The words whispered from her lips, but before she could say what she wanted, he’d taken her over the edge again. She stroked a hand down his cheek and smiled.
* * *
Jake raised his head, and the picture she presented shook his confidence he’d ever known what “wanting” meant before her. Her loose curls created a halo around her head on the ancient rug, her eyes were glazed with desire, and her subtle female scent sharpened his need.
“I want you.” She beckoned with a come-hither finger and a naughty smile.
Jake surrendered, settling his body over hers. She wriggled. A perfumed shimmy to beguile him. She’d crashed through his defensive walls. All the hot looks and stolen touches had led to this moment, when he couldn’t get enough of her. Not sex, but a lovemaking more shattering than he’d ever experienced. “I want to trace each dip and curve. Your breasts”—he caressed them with open palms—“your midriff, your hips.” His hands followed his words. When her head fell back, her throat arching in delight, he was there, catching her open mouth with his, pouring his passion into her.
“Please, Jake,” she panted.
“I want to please you.” He lavished attention on her eyebrows, her cheeks. A kiss here, a caress there. “Wait.” He grabbed his trousers, hauled his wallet out of a pocket and flipped it open to find a condom. The throb in his balls matched the throbbing in his temples, an urgent bass while he fumbled the sheath onto his cock. He crawled over her.
“Please.” An invitation he couldn’t resist.
Jake sampled her full lower lip, stoking her ardour with short hot kisses, building a primitive rhythm. He lowered himself, heartbeat by careful heartbeat, to wallow in the sheer magic of skin rubbing against skin. Her satin softness made him slick and needy.
“Now?” he growled the question.
“Yes.” She gripped his forearms.
The air between them hummed. Jake tasted the warmth of her skin, revelling in her instinctive sexuality. With one delicious movement, he buried himself inside her wet heat. Fire and light—sweat-slicked bodies and heated caresses, touching, learning, demanding. Her cry of release tore through the quiet room, closely followed by his. He rolled onto his back, drawing her onto his chest, sucking in oxygen.
What the hell had happened to him?
Before he’d worked out the answer, she propped herself on her forearms, grinned and gave an uninhibited wriggle.
“Give me a minute.” Jake slid her off his chest, tucking her into the shelter of his wrapped arm. He pressed soft kisses on her hair while his heart rate returned to normal. Although he doubted it would ever be normal again.
“I may have died and gone to heaven,” she murmured.
“Why did we wait?” Jake turned his head to grin at her.
She pushed at his hair, let her hand linger in its thickness. “Because we’re sensible, cautious people.”
“If we were sensible, cautious people, we wouldn’t have started this now.” He still hadn’t uncovered Drew’s end plan.
“I needed this, and you. Now. Do you regret it?” Her gaze was unguarded.
“I could never regret what we just shared, Eleanor. I don’t, even though I didn’t plan it when I came here tonight.” He tucked her closer, pressing a kiss to her temple.
“Did you consider it?” She walked her fingers up his chest, braver than him in her willingness to expose her feelings.
“Let’s say the idea’s crossed my mind a few times.” And until tonight, Jake had fought the temptation. But she’d rung him; she’d confided in him; she’d shown faith in him, and his rigid control had slipped.
“For me, it’s been a few hundred.” Rising to her feet, she picked up the strip of abandoned condoms and sauntered in the direction of her bedroom, flaunting her nakedness. “Come to bed, Jake.”
Even with a head start, Jake caught her before she reached the door, showering her with the petals of a rose he’d snatched from a vase near the sofa.
“Rose petals? How romantic.” She studied his interested cock and peeled open another condom. “Allow me.”
Jake stoically withstood her exquisite torture, hands clenched at his sides. Once she’d sheathed him, he made his move, lifting her, and holding her against the wall to enter her. He braced to keep the rhythm slow, yet his heart pounded. “Are you looking for romance?”
“True confessions?” Wrapping her legs around his waist, she rocked against him, taking him further into her. “This is romance.”
“Let me love you, Eleanor?” With his heart racing, Jake’s gaze locked on her as he pushed into her again and again. Her skin was pure silk, her fingers dug into his shoulders, and her eyes glazed over with stunned delight. “Tell me what you feel?”
“Like the firecrackers we had on the farm for special occasions when I was a child. Brilliant colours and flashing lights. Except I’m one of them. The magic’s in me and”—she gasped—“about to explode.”
Jake staggered to the bed, dropping her on her back and falling beside her, gulping in air.
“You’re the one who couldn’t wait until we got to bed,” she teased.
“You could have run faster.” Jake helped her pull the covers over them. When she curled her body around his, he knew what it was to be cherished. She reached for him during the night. She was all soft touches, laughing whispers, and sharing secrets.
“Why do you call me Eleanor?” She cuddled against his side, her hand linked with his, her warmth inviting confidences.
“It suits you. A bright, shining light. In your work you bring hope to people who are at the end of their tether.” The stories his friend, Tony, had told him about EJ had sketched a picture. He’d learned more. “A fire burns in your belly. It warms all in your vicinity.”
