Chapter 28

Daisy

Idon’t play fair.

I’ve done everything in my power to tease Hart on the flight from Melbourne, and as we touch down in Sydney I feel like flinging my arms overhead in victory.

I wanted to show him what he’s missing out on by not giving us a chance. I achieved my goal, plus got an added bonus of seeing visual proof that he still wants me as badly as I want him. Though seeing his boner proved somewhat problematic for me, making me practically squirm with wanting to do something about it.

I might have talked the talk but inside I’m burning up. I’ve never experienced such lust before, the kind of craving for a guy that’s irrational and confrontational and sensational.

I don’t envision doing naughty things with men on planes as a rule, but sitting next to Hart, deliberately brushing up against him, taunting him, only served to ratchet up my desire to unbearable levels.

We join the taxi rank outside the airport and are soon ensconced in air-conditioned comfort. I haven’t been to Sydney for years and I forgot the humidity makes my hair resemble a frizz ball.

He hasn’t said much since we disembarked but I can see the tension in his rigid neck muscles, and in the clench of his jaw. Maybe I’ve pushed him too far but I don’t care. He needs his stubborn ass kicked for being so closed off to the possibility of us.

‘Where are we going?’

‘You’ll see.’

I snort my disgust. ‘You know this grand plan of yours to push me away isn’t going to work, right?’

He stares straight ahead like he hasn’t even heard me.

I poke him in the arm. ‘Hey, I’m talking to you.’

He slowly turns his head, like looking me in the eye is the last thing he wants to do, and when I see his expression I know why. He’s in pain. The kind of pain I know well because it’s exactly what I felt back on Gem Island when I discovered he’d left without a word.

‘This isn’t a game.’ He’s gutted, the agony in his eyes making me want to undo my seat belt and fling myself into his arms. ‘I need you to understand where I came from, why I am the way I am, why I can’t give you anything.’

‘I’m not asking for anything.’ I place my hand on his thigh. ‘I only want time to explore what we started on the island. That’s it. No expectations.’

He stares at my hand like it’s scorching him, before covering it with his with obvious reluctance. ‘There are always expectations.’

I squeeze his thigh and he flinches. ‘Okay, how’s this for expectations? I expect you to finish what we started on the plane. I expect you to make me scream because I’m on edge. And if you’re really determined to end this within the next hour or so, I expect you to take me somewhere right now so we can give this fling/relationship/whatever you want to call it the proper send-off it deserves.’

His hand grips mine so tight I feel the tendons crunching. I don’t complain, because I see my outburst has sparked something within him. His eyes glow like polished onyx before his gaze drops to my mouth.

He wants this. Wants me.

‘You’re fucking killing me,’ he mutters, before he leans forward and directs the driver to an address in Darlinghurst.

‘You better be taking me to a hotel,’ I murmur underneath my breath, and when he sits back, he shoots me a glance that’s pure wickedness.

‘And you better put that mouth to other uses besides giving me a hard time when we get to the hotel,’ he says, his tone tinged with reluctant amusement.

‘Oh, I will. Trust me.’ I slide my hand higher on his thigh and he clamps down on it before I hit the jackpot.

‘You are in so much trouble,’ he mutters, but as we lock gazes—molten heat blended with excitement—I can’t wait to get into trouble of the good kind.

He turns his hand over, palm up, and intertwines his fingers with mine. We sit in silence and hold hands for the rest of the fifteen-minute drive. I don’t mind. I like the quiet. It gives me a chance to formulate what I’m going to say later, when he inevitably tries to push me away.

I’m deep in thought when we pull up outside a hotel. It’s ramshackle and nothing like the five-star place I imagined. Not because I’m a snob or because I expect Hart to fork out a fortune for a quickie because he’s rich, but it’s surprising he would want this to be where we have fantastic reunion sex.

Unless…he’s really serious about this being a rousing send-off and doesn’t particularly care where we do it.

The thought saddens me, but I paste a smile on my face as he pays the driver and helps me out of the taxi. He hasn’t released my hand and is staring at me, looking for some kind of judgement perhaps?

‘Ready?’ I squeeze his hand and I glimpse a flicker of disappointment.

Yeah, bringing me here is part of his grand plan to alienate me but I’ll be damned if I give him the satisfaction.

‘Absolutely,’ he says, with less conviction, as we stroll into the foyer.

It’s nothing like I expect and at complete odds with the seedy exterior. The owners have stuck with a retro theme, from the black and white tessellated tiles on the floor to the gleaming brass lamps casting light over crimson velvet sofas strategically placed throughout.

It’s not a large space but it exudes a welcome cosiness and I experience a twang of jealousy at the thought of Hart knowing to come here and who he might’ve brought here in the past.

‘Give me a minute.’ He releases my hand and approaches the sole reception staff behind the desk, a sixty-something brassy blonde who wouldn’t look out of place draped across one of the sofas in a flapper dress.

He slides across his credit card, signs a slip of paper, and pockets a key. An actual, old-fashioned key, not the plastic swipe cards that hotels favour these days.

It’s madness, because I instigated this, but I’m struck by a sudden case of nerves. The moment I emailed Alf my resignation I set these events in motion. Finding Hart. Following my heart.

But what if I’m wrong?

What if this is nothing more to him than a last, quick fuck?

What if he truly won’t let me into his heart and his life?

‘We’re on the second floor. There are no functional elevators. We need to take the stairs.’ He holds out his hand and I know without a doubt that he’s giving me an out. One last chance to run.

I stare at his palm: the strong lifeline, the weaker marriage lines, and those long, strong fingers that have strummed every inch of me.

A blinding fear makes me tremble imperceptibly. But I can’t turn back now. I have to know that I’ve given us all I can.

I can’t quit now when I’ve come this far.

‘Pity we have to take the stairs, because I don’t want you tiring yourself out.’ I place my hand in his and he tugs me hard so I stumble and land flush against him.

‘Are you questioning my stamina?’ He presses his boner against me, grinds against me a little.

‘No, but I’m questioning your sanity in teasing me down here when we could be upstairs, already naked.’

He lowers his head and nibbles on my neck, and my skin breaks out in goose bumps. ‘You know all that teasing on the plane? I’m going to make you pay.’

‘Promises, promises,’ I whisper in his ear, a second before I bite the lobe a tad hard.

He doesn’t even flinch but I hear a low moan. ‘Come on.’

We walk, fast, towards the ornate staircase that winds between the three floors in a sweeping circle.

‘You couldn’t have chosen a room on the ground floor?’ I ask as we hit the first at a fair pace.

‘I didn’t want anyone to hear you scream when I lick you out.’

There’s no suitable verbal response to that but the dampness between my legs makes me want to sprint. We skip every second step and arrive at the second floor panting, but I don’t think it’s from the exertion.

‘Room two-twenty-two,’ he says, almost heading the wrong way in his hurry to get me naked. At least, that’s what I hope.

‘It’s to the left.’ I point at the directions posted on the wall in front of us and he mutters a curse before we take off in the opposite direction.

We’re almost running by the time we reach the room at the end of a long hallway. He jabs the key in the lock, misses the first time, and I chuckle. He shoots me a filthy look before trying again and this time the relic slides in and turns first try.

He pushes open the solid mahogany door and waits until I pass before letting it close. I barely have time to register a smallish room that resembles a brothel from the fifties—crimson carpet, drapes, and bedspread, with purple lamp shades, recliner, and vinyl-topped desk, with gold accenting everywhere—before he’s on me.

Grabbing my wrists and lifting them overhead. Pinning me to the wall. His body flush against mine.

It’s exactly what I want.

‘You drive me wild,’ he mutters, claiming my mouth in a searing kiss that sizzles all the way down to where I want him most.

My nipples peak, craving the relief only his mouth can give. As if reading my mind he dips his head and nips them through the cotton of my shirt, a sharp bite that’s more pleasure than pain.

I can’t keep still. I writhe against him, my hips undulating of their own accord. He holds my wrists overhead with one hand and uses the other to rip open my shirt. Thank goodness for pop stud buttons.

Then his mouth is on me. On my collarbone, my chest, and finally my nipples when he flicks my bra hooks open at the back.

He laves and licks and sucks, moving from right to left, leaving the nipples rigid and wet. Then he blows the faintest puff of air on them and I’m arching off the wall.

‘Please, Hart…don’t make me beg.’

The corner of his mouth crooks. ‘Might be kind of fun.’

‘No. You. Inside me. Now.’

I’m bossy and petulant and he laughs.

‘Okay.’ He releases my wrists and they fall limply to my side.

I’m tingling, though I doubt it’s from the lack of circulation, because it’s spreading all over my body, starting from my breasts that he’s staring at like the best damn thing he’s ever seen, all the way down to my toes.

‘But first, I must do this.’ He drops to his knees and eases my skirt and panties down in one go. There’s no waiting, no preamble; his mouth is on me and I let out a moan.

He tongues my clit with the perfect pressure, the perfect rhythm, just freaking perfect…I’ve been on edge since the taxi ride and my muscles quickly tense, the pleasure spiralling out of control as my orgasm hits like a freight train, making my knees buckle.

I have no idea I’m bucking until he steadies my hips with his hands and places an almost chaste kiss above my bikini line.

Then he’s unzipping and sheathing and inside me. Hard and long and thick, a wistful sigh escaping my lips.

I want this all the time.

I want him all the time.

Not just because of how he makes me feel, like no other man can ever fulfil me this way, but because I deserve this.

I deserve him, no matter how damn unworthy he thinks he is.

His mouth covers mine in a soft kiss that defies the way he’s pounding into me. In and out. So hard. So good. Over and over until I’m climbing again, winding higher and tighter, ready to come apart.

My thighs tremble and he changes the angle by bending his knees a little. It’s enough to push me over the edge as I groan into his mouth. It drives him a little nuts as he thrusts into me so hard I’m now standing on tiptoes, my head clunking the wall.

I don’t think it registers because he’s devouring me with his mouth and a second later he comes, wrenching his mouth from mine to stare at me like I’ve given him the greatest gift.

It’s disarming, the intensity of his stare. I can’t get a read on it and as we stand there, with him still inside me, our bodies slick with sweat, our chests heaving with the effort of dragging air into our lungs, I don’t know what confuses me more. His fearful expression while his eyes are adoring and tender, or my terror of discovering that in following my heart, I may have lost him regardless.