Текст книги "The Affair"

Автор книги: Beth Kery

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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 34 страниц)

Chapter 7

The thing of it is, though, I’m really just being selfish. I’m not going to rest until I feel you shake against me.

Despite his words, what he was doing to her felt far from selfish. She drowned in decadent, flooding pleasure. He moved in her outer sex, pressing and sliding, his hand every bit as skilled at this maneuver as it was the deft, precise handling of a car. He owned her mouth at the same time that he touched her. He may have expressed his doubts about making love to Emma in the backseat of a car in a garage on a night when she was so vulnerable, but his kiss was wholesale, deep and compelling, holding nothing back.

Emma found herself giving just as completely. Her fingers plunged into his hair. She loved the feeling of it in her hands.

His finger continued to agitate her, gliding and rubbing her clit in a way that made her core contract and her eyes roll back in her head. God, she was burning from the inside out. She was wet, very wet, she could tell by the easy glide of the stiff ridge of his forefinger, the slippery movement of his seeking fingertip. It felt so good—better than when she touched herself; more concise, more imperative. She could so easily lose herself to this feeling . . . to him.

“That’s right,” he murmured against her lips. “Just give in to it.”

She moaned, the fever in her rising, the friction he wrought with his skillful hand mounting. He pierced her lips with his tongue, capturing her groan of ecstasy. She grew so hot, so excited, that the soles of her feet tingled and her nipples grew painfully hard against her bra. As if he could read her body with his mind, he abruptly broke their kiss. She gasped in excited surprise when he pressed his mouth to the upper curve of her right breast. His head moved, his lips charting the swell of the flesh.

“Oh God,” she moaned in dazed arousal when he closed his lips around the nipple and sucked through her T-shirt and bra. Her hips pressed up more insistently against his hand between her thighs. He was playing her clit expertly, but she longed to have him penetrate her. Fill her. She could feel the heat of his mouth on her breast, the wetness penetrate the cloth, the delicious suction. The stimulation on her nipple and clit at once nearly brought her to climax. But then his hand moved, his dragging forefinger along her naked pelvis and lower belly leaving a wet trail of her juices.

“Oh . . . no,” she protested, disoriented by the sudden absence of his magical touch. He lifted his head.

“Shh,” he whispered, the hushing sound soothing, but also firm, authoritative, as if he was saying, wait, your pleasure will come in due time. She bit her lip to stifle her ragged breathing as she watched him lift her T-shirt, his actions deliberate and focused, as if he didn’t want to rush this. He carefully arranged her T-shirt over her breasts, his stare so intent her clit pinched in anguished arousal. He whisked a fingertip over the top of her breast and inserted it inside the edge of her bra.

“Jesus. You’re beautiful,” he said quietly when he’d pushed back the fabric and exposed a nipple.

He looked up at her desperate whimper.

“Just a little longer, baby, keep still,” he soothed and commanded at once.

He dipped another finger beneath the fabric of the other cup, holding her stare the whole time, his touch scalding her. He lifted the flesh over the edge and then pushed the bra down securely beneath her exposed breasts. She forced her hips not to rise on the seat. She needed pressure on her pussy so badly. Her gaze moved down with his. Emma gritted her teeth and moaned in agony when she saw the picture her breasts made, both of them standing up pertly over the bunched cups, her nipples dark pink and very hard with arousal.

A surge of liquid heat went through her when he groaned roughly. “Look at that, like tight little buds,” he muttered, sounding awed as he plucked at one nipple, then another. The ache of desire inside her clamped so tight, it hurt. She had to shut her eyes, the vision was so erotic—his dark, masculine fingers against her pale skin, caressing and pinching her delicate nipples, an expression of rapt hunger on his handsome face.

She made a strangled sound in her throat. He paused in his illicit caresses, and she opened her eyes warily. Their gazes met for a heart-stopping second.

Then his head lowered and he sucked a captive nipple into his mouth, and his finger slid again beneath her panties. Twin bolts of pleasure pierced her, pinning her to the spot, forcing her to submit. She trembled in the face of a huge, intimidating wave of pleasure. It was going to crash down on her, steal her breath—

“Come. I’ve got you,” he rasped next to her damp breast. Then he took her nipple into his wet, warm mouth again, sucking harder this time. She cried out sharply as heaven fell. Shudder after shudder wracked her. One of his hands found its way to her back. He lifted her slightly from the seat, her back arching against his hot, demanding mouth. Then he was pressing her against him tightly, his lips now on her neck and near her ear, his finger playing her clit relentlessly.

“That’s right,” he whispered roughly next to her ear as she shuddered yet again. “That’s what I wanted to feel. I can’t wait to be high and hard inside you and feel that squeezing my cock.” Another harsh shudder went through her at his erotic description. “Emma,” he groaned, absorbing her shocks of pleasure as she quaked against him, helpless in the clutches of bliss.

She sagged into the seat a moment later. He firmed his hold on her wrists and again pinned them above her head. A thrill penetrated her satiation when she saw his focused, feral stare. He captured her shaky moan with his mouth. It was a little difficult for her to return his forceful kiss at first as her lungs silently screamed for air. His rabid hunger awakened her own, however, their lips shaping, bodies straining, tongues delving, heads twisting, breaths mingling. The heat between them blasted her. Delicious.

Dangerous.

She pulled on her restrained wrists. She wanted so much to touch his face and hair, feel the hard strength of muscle. Instead of just releasing her, however, he heaved himself off her abruptly. The absence of his weight and heat left her feeling disoriented. Bereft. God, he’d been so hot on top of her. So hard.

He went to a seated position and lowered his head to his hand, his elbow on his knee. He sat there while his heavy breathing slowed, clearly trying to master himself.

“I just wanted to touch you,” she whispered, thinking maybe he’d thought she was trying to escape him when she’d struggled in his hold just now.

He turned his head, peering at her in the dim light with his hand still pressed to his temple. His gaze lowered and his expression stiffened. Emma realized her breasts were still exposed, sticking out lewdly over the bunched up cups of her bra.

“I’m not suggesting it this time,” he said thickly. “I’m telling you, Emma. Go.”

She inhaled sharply at the steeliness of his tone. Feeling vulnerable, she hastily replaced the cups before shoving down her T-shirt. She sat up, swinging her legs out from behind him. It suddenly felt like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the enclosed space of the luxury car. Maybe he thought so, too, because he abruptly flung open the door and got out, leaving the door open.

God. Had she really just been making out with Michael Montand in the back of a car, climaxing against him furiously? Her life was certainly throwing her some wild pitches lately.

She hurriedly fastened her jeans, feeling dazed, and followed him out of the car. She was a little surprised her legs still held her weight when she stood, that was how undone she felt from the thunderous climax and renewed arousal.

He met her stare across the space of the few feet that now separated them. The air seemed to crackle between them. She’d never experienced chemistry like this. She hadn’t known it existed to this degree. Her clit twanged between her thighs. Without ever intending to, her gaze lowered over his body hungrily. The coveralls he wore were loose, but she could easily see the outline of his still-erect cock where it arrowed upward along his pelvis and hip at a diagonal angle, tenting the material next to it as the weight pulled the fabric down. She could tell he was beautiful there, just like he was everywhere else.

“Don’t,” he bit out, giving her a burning glance of warning that froze the air in her lungs. He started to walk away.

“Wait. What are you doing? Where are you going?” she sputtered, her disorientation rising.

He turned around and glanced down at the significant bulge in the front of the coveralls. “What do you think I’m going to do?” he asked with blistering sarcasm.

His voice seemed to echo all around the garage and in her head in the silence that followed, harsh as a whip.

“Fuck you,” she replied succinctly when the pain of that lash finally penetrated her confusion.

His lip curled and his eyes closed briefly. He cursed under his breath just as heatedly as she had, white teeth flashing in a snarl.

“I told you you’d end up regretting it. I told you I was selfish,” he hissed in what appeared to be pure, distilled frustration. He raked his fingers through his hair anxiously, avoiding her stare.

“Your keys are in the ignition of your car. I’ll open the garage doors for you,” he said before he turned his back to her and walked away.

Emma had never looked forward to a weekend less.

When she returned home on Friday night following that earth-shaking experience in Montand’s garage—she felt hollow and dazed, yet strangely alert, too. Raw.

Were anger, confusion, and unprecedented lust going to become her permanent emotional state? It felt as if that’s all she’d experienced since climbing into that armoire last Tuesday. That damn armoire.

Her Pandora’s Box.

It certainly didn’t help things that Amanda was sitting at the kitchen when Emma arrived home, her cheeks damp with tears. A cup of tea sat in front of her on the oak table. She’d clearly been waiting anxiously for Emma’s arrival. God, this was the last thing she needed at this moment.

“Not tonight, Amanda,” she bit out.

“When, then?” Amanda asked. “We can’t just go around acting like nothing happened. I’ve hurt you. I know that. I love you too much to just ignore this.”

“But not enough to keep from fooling around with my boyfriend?”

Her harsh words seemed to vibrate in the air between them. Amanda looked like she’d been slapped and was holding her breath.

Emma set down her purse on the table with a loud thump. She knew she couldn’t keep avoiding Amanda. She was her little sister, for God’s sake, her lifetime companion, fellow latchkey child, the single surviving column of the structure that gave the shape to Emma’s life since their mother had died. Never before had Amanda done something so hurtful. It wasn’t in her nature. Emma believed that. Despite the bizarre circumstances, it’d been Amanda’s shattered expression that had caused Emma’s mother-bear instinct to flare to life with Colin last night.

Once there had been three—Mom, Amanda, and Emma—against the world. Then there were two.

Now there was still two, but Amanda was moving swiftly away from her, too far to be an anchor anymore. She dreaded the idea of not having Amanda there as a confidant . . . as her only family.

But look what she did behind your back!

Emma stilled the choking thought with effort.

“I’m not hurting in the way you’re thinking,” Emma said.

“I’ve betrayed you.” Amanda said stiffly, as if she spoke toxic words that burned her throat and tongue.

She looked into her sister’s beautiful, tear-stained face. “Changes come, whether you want them to or not.”

“Please tell me I haven’t ruined our relationship forever.”

“You’ll always be my sister, Amanda. I’ll always love you. But things have changed. How am I supposed to trust you like I did before?”

Misery settled on Amanda’s face, giving the quick impression she’d aged five years in an instant. “And to think,” she whispered after a pause, “all because I couldn’t control myself. All because I wanted something I didn’t really need.”

The memory of Montand’s thick self-disgust for his lust flamed into Emma’s awareness. “Who’s to say you don’t need it? If not Colin, then passion. Risk.” Emma mumbled distractedly, the image of Montand clouding her consciousness.

“You’re condoning me kissing your boyfriend in the name of taking a risk?” Amanda asked incredulously.

“No. I’m saying that some things are inevitable. Life is filled with the unexpected and irrationalities and change. You must have wanted Colin an awful lot to have acted on it, given the circumstances.”

“Part of me still can’t believe I let it happen.”

“And the other part?” Emma asked wryly.

“I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but I think . . . I think I’ve fallen in love with him.”

“And Colin? Does he feel the same way about you?”

Amanda nodded, more tears filling her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Emma. God, this is so screwed up.”

Emma sighed. She felt wrung out. Exhausted. Heartsore. “I should have broken things off with Colin a long time ago. I’ve been living in a dreamworld, acting like everything is fine, holding on to him because he was my own personal safety net. I was in the relationship for all the wrong reasons.”

“Tell me what to do to make this right, Emma.”

“I can’t make everything better for you on your timetable, Amanda,” she said, frustration entering her tone. “That’s not fair to expect it.”

Amanda swallowed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just don’t want to lose you, and I’m scared.”

“I’m not going anywhere and neither are you. We’ll eventually get past this. But right this second, I’m just . . . really tired. I’m going to bed.”

Amanda nodded, tears leaking down her cheeks. Emma was usually her comforter. But there was nothing she could say to soothe her little sister at that moment. She was too confused herself, and her frothing emotions and thoughts had nothing to do with Colin.

Saturday morning, she finally sat down with Amanda to talk, knowing her sister wouldn’t rest until she eradicated her guilty conscience. Given Amanda’s red eyes and pale complexion, she had a feeling her sister had been up crying all night again. Besides, Emma couldn’t help but be curious about the circumstances between her sister and Colin.

“So your feelings have been growing stronger ever since the two of you have been spending so much time together?” Emma asked after listening to Amanda’s emotional confessions over morning tea.

“We have a lot in common. You know I’m interested in forensic medicine, and he’s learning so many amazing things in his new job. Plus, we’re so comfortable together.”

“And that’s what you want? Comfortable?” Emma asked dubiously.

“Well yeah. Who doesn’t?” Amanda said, as if it were obvious. “But I never planned to act on the feelings I was getting for him, Emma. Please believe me. I never will again, if you say the word, despite the way I feel about him. The other night, it just . . . happened. You’ll never know how terrible I felt, seeing you standing there, imagining what you were thinking of me.” Emma had the rather random, uncharitable thought that Amanda looked absolutely gorgeous even with her face all red and splotchy and her long hair pulled back in a haphazard bun.

Emma sighed. “If you really like Colin, you shouldn’t just give up on the whole thing because of me. It’s like I told you yesterday, you’ll always be my sister.”

“But . . . but what about you and Colin?” Amanda asked in a quavering voice.

“It’s over. It’s like I said last night. We were comfortable together. There was no real romance. What happened last night just brought all that to the forefront. What are you going to do in regard to him?”

“I don’t know. I’m so confused.”

“Yeah? Join the club,” Emma said under her breath.

“I’ll be starting school in the fall. You know how hard the program is going to be. I don’t have time for a relationship.”

“This is one decision I can’t help you with. You’ll have to decide on your own. But don’t not be with Colin because you’re worried I’m still in love with him. I’m not,” Emma said with finality, pushing back her chair.

“Do you think you can ever forgive me?” Amanda asked shakily.

Unbidden, a vision of her mother popped into her mind’s eye, her face sad. Worried.

God, Mom would hate this.

“I’m going to work on it,” Emma said honestly, briskly drying an errant tear with her thumb. “I’m going to try for Mom and for us. You’re too important to me not to try. But forgiveness is a process, not a snap decision. Don’t push it, Amanda.”

Later, after Amanda had gone to wash up, Emma sat at the kitchen table with her computer in front of her, mindlessly checking e-mails and reading some articles on the Internet, trying to relax a little on her day off.

A few minutes later, she squinted at the computer screen, reading intently, certain phrases popping out at her more than others.

Automobiles Montand, French car company based in Antibes, France, that manufactures some of the most sought-after luxury sports cars and racecars in the world . . .

. . . Michael Montand (Sr.), French, founded the company in 1959 . . .

. . . Michael Montand (Jr.), American, sole owner and current chief executive officer of Automobiles Montand in addition to being founder and chief executive officer of Montand Motorworks, located in Deerfield, Illinois . . . exclusive maker of engines, intake manifolds, and carburetors for luxury sports cars and racecars . . . founder and backer of the world-class, experimental road race, The Montand French-American Grand Prix, to be held on the French Riviera . . .

She clicked on a link and a recent Chicago Tribune article popped up on the screen. Her gaze immediately stuck on the image of Montand at a podium, two gleaming stock cars on display behind him. He looked sober and compelling in a tuxedo, his hands braced on the podium, his posture suggesting the intensity and focus she’d come to expect from him.

Montand Motorworks Brings American Racing to the Côte d’Azur, the headline read.

She checked the date of the article. It was July 17, the date when he’d called her to him in the Breakers dining room, she realized, recognizing the tux in the photo. This was the publicity event he’d described, the one with the “vampires,” as he’d called them. If he disliked high-profile events such as the premiere road-racing grand prix he’d organized on the French Riviera, he must be uncomfortable a lot of the time.

“Emma?”

Emma started, glancing around when Amanda said her name. She hadn’t really been aware of her intention to Google Montand’s name.

“Yeah?” she asked Amanda, shutting her computer lid guiltily, which was stupid. It was only natural that she was curious about him, after all. It wasn’t every day she was set on fire by a gorgeous, aloof, cynical billionaire who kissed her like he thought she was his last meal on earth, and then rejected her like he’d realized she was poison.

“You’re not going to believe who’s here,” Amanda said in a hushed tone, looking stunned.

Emma’s heart lurched. Surely it wasn’t—

“Toby Martin,” Amanda whispered, glancing pointedly over her shoulder.

Emma’s hopes plummeted back to earth with a crash. Did she honestly think Michael Montand would show up at her front door?

God, you’re stupid sometimes.

Toby Martin was the name of their apartment maintenance man. He was the only maintenance man for more than two hundred apartments spread out over Evanston, Skokie, and northern Chicago. Their cheap-wad landlord refused to hire an adequate number of employees to service his units.

“He’s here to do our repairs,” Amanda hissed disbelievingly. “All of them.”

“Well miracles do happen,” Emma said after a stunned moment.

Colin had left at least a dozen messages on her phone since Thursday night along with another half dozen texts.

I know you’re pissed, and you have every right to be, but please let me explain.

I know what it looked like, but it wasn’t that . . . or it was, but not as bad as whatever you’re probably thinking. Please just call me so we can meet and I can explain in person. Emma? PLEASE?

Look, I know things are over between us. But would you at least call and let me know you’re okay? I’m getting worried.

Emma knew she couldn’t keep putting him off. She had to get this over with. Besides, she felt a little guilty after hearing the desperate quality of his tone and messages. He imagined her betrayed, furious, and depressed. She was set off balance and angry, but it was strange to realize what had happened with Colin and Amanda was only a small part of her odd state. Colin had been part of the fabric of her life for years now, as much a part of her existence as Amanda. The fact that Colin and Amanda were interested in each other sexually and romantically definitely changed things, adding to that sense of shifting ground and a precarious future.

Their relationship needed to officially end. Colin needed to see she wasn’t suicidal or something. She wasn’t feeling sexually rejected by him, that much was certain. She’d been turned to quivering mush the other night in the backseat of a car by a gorgeous billionaire whom she couldn’t stop thinking about despite all the drama surrounding her.

Not that she planned to confess that part to anyone. She was having trouble enough coming to terms with it herself.

What if you really are upset and don’t realize it, and are acting out in a self-defeating way with Montand because you’re feeling rejected by Colin?

One look at Colin’s face when he answered his apartment door on Saturday evening, and she knew that wasn’t the situation at all. She was ready to end it with him.

More than ready.

When he saw the carton she brought with all of the things he’d left at her place over the years, he looked sad and resigned. Even if it hadn’t been for her unexpected experience with Montand, Emma knew she would have eventually realized this breakup was long overdue. Amanda and Colin making out had just hastened the inevitable.

Now all she had to do was deal with the poison fallout in regard to Amanda.

On Sunday, Emma decided impulsively to go shopping in downtown Chicago. When Emma returned home at around four thirty, she saw Colin and Amanda standing next to Colin’s dark green sedan in the parking lot. They both stepped apart guiltily when they noticed her car. Feeling uncomfortable, Emma gathered her bags and headed toward her apartment.

She entered the still, empty apartment, closed the door, and pressed her back against it, her bags still clutched in her hands. What was she feeling? She tried to be honest with herself. Was it jealousy for seeing Amanda and Colin together?

No. That wasn’t it. What she experienced was a gaping sense of uncertainty about her future. What she experienced, she realized with a sudden sense of clarity, was the precise reason she’d clung to Colin for so long, even when she knew they weren’t right for each other.

The recognition fortified her. At least she’d put a name to what she’d been afraid of. She marched down the hallway, suddenly eager to look at her new purchases again.