AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Welcome you?" she blurted. "This is my time. You weren't supposed to be in the picture." She wriggled in his grasp, trying to break free. "Let me go!"
Piers sighed, but he didn't let her go. In fact he held her tighter still. He was a strong man, and he towered over her. He didn't usually use it this way, however, and that unnerved her. Whatever was he thinking, and why was he acting this way? There was heavy stubble on his chin and his hair was awry. He looked as if he'd driven through the night. Perhaps that had made him edgy. He neve
r normally behaved like this. What had got into him?
"You know, Meg, we planned this holiday together."
His rich Scottish accent jangled her nerves, familiar and seductive as it was.
"That was a long time ago, and you know it."
He ran one thumb over her collarbone, holding her easily with the other hand, stroking her there in the tender spot at the base of her neck the way he used to.
The action set loose a flurry of butterflies inside her, but warning signals were also blasting everywhere.
"I emailed you," she added, "and you agreed." She stumbled over the words, still in shock that he had turned up and manhandled her this way.
"I changed my mind." There was a wicked glint in his eyes and his mouth lifted at the corners. "I figured we could share…fair is fair, after all."
"Share?" She glared at him. "You've got to be joking. You're just trying to annoy me."
He gave a wry, husky laugh and shook his head at her.
Meg didn't know what was going on in his mind, and that had been their problem. They were attracted to each other, cared deeply, but there was something missing. And yet the moment he pressed his hips against hers, rocking against her, she melted. He lifted her chin and those familiar blue eyes of his made her want him so badly. The stubble on his chin was obvious enough that it made her skin tingle, because she knew what that would feel like rubbing against her naked body. The way he moved, so tantalizingly, made her centre warm and slick.
"I can't do this," she murmured. The idea of sharing that tiny cabin with him, her ex, presented all sorts of problems. The way he looked right at this moment—in slouchy faded jeans and a tight black T-shirt, unshaven and wild-eyed, was enough to get her in trouble. She'd been without sex for two months, and part of her still craved him. Badly. If she got close to him again, it would be harder still to draw that final line under their relationship. The fact that she could feel his erection growing against her while he had her pinned up against the post was evidence enough.
Resist him, she told herself. But even as she thought it, she knew it would be damn hard to do so. Panicked, she glanced around. "The neighbors will complain to the caretaker about you, they'll call for the police if they see you holding me here like this."
The neighbors, a German family totaling eight, had introduced themselves the day before, apologizing for the barbecue fumes, and inviting her over. She'd declined, but the Jurgens family had made her feel safe. She glanced over her shoulder towards their cabin, warning Piers. As she did she recalled that they were off on a long hike and had left at dawn. Piers didn't know that though.
"I don't care," he stated. "I've come here to claim what I'm owed." His eyebrows lifted suggestively, and he ran his hands down over her breasts, squeezing them firmly, before he clasped her around her waist.
The deliberate touch of his hands on her breasts through her sweater and bra took her breath away. Meg stared up at him, amazed at his forthright behavior. Her legs had turned to jelly. How had this happened? Moments earlier she'd almost been free of their relationship. Now he'd barged in, demanding things, and he was downright arrogant about it, too. "You agreed. The cabin is mine for the week."
The scent of his cologne, so familiar and seductive, reached her, swamping her senses.
"Something changed," he stated. With that he smiled, as if to himself, and then he stepped away, leaving her standing there against the post, limp and ready to buckle at the knees.
Glaring at his broad back as he walked towards his car, Meg wondered why she had let him do that to her, why she had even given him long enough for her to notice his stubble and inhale his familiar cologne.
"I hate you!" She said it loud enough for him to catch.
Piers paused at the door of his Mercedes and grinned over at her. Then he reached into the car and pulled out a leather weekend bag, which he threw on the ground between them. It was a statement of intent.
Meg fumed. She turned on her heel and began to walk away.
"I'll make myself at home," he called after her.
She opened her mouth to issue a smart reply then realized she still had the keys clamped tightly in the palm of her hand. I never locked the cabin.
"Please yourself. I'm gone for the day," she shot back over her shoulder, angrily.
"I'll track you down," he added. There was a threat in that comment, a threat and a promise.
She paused and half-turned back. He was on the porch where she had been a minute earlier and he had already got the cabin door open. "No, you bloody well won't," she blurted, and her booted feet slid against the loose gravel as she stumbled on.
He laughed. "I know this area well, Meg."
