AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Her body was quivering beneath his touch. Her skin had a fine covering of goose bumps where he’d kissed her. She was so responsive. And that was his undoing. His resolve had weakened beyond salvaging. But she was so innocent; so sweet. His mind was at war with his body. His body, thankfully, won.
He slid the strap of her dress back down, revealing the soft part of her shoulder and the very top of her breast, that he’d glimpsed earlier. “Your breasts should be national treasures,” he drawled, mesmerised by their rapid rise and fall, in line with her breathing. He lifted his hands and held them in his palms, marvelling at their weight and size.
She shuddered. All thought and speech were rendered impossible by the effect his touch was having on her. Through the fabric of her dress, she felt her nipples sensitise and tighten. She didn’t just want him. She needed him.
“I think the Acropolis might have something to say about that.”
His grin was wolfish. “No one who held your sweet softness would dare argue,” he promised, kissing the flesh he’d unveiled at the top of her breast. Mikey clutched his shirt front in her palms, leaning back as the exquisite sensations he was stirring became almost too much to bear.
“I …” she moaned as he flicked one of her nipples with his finger, sending a dart of sensation through her. “I thought you were telling me why this shouldn’t happen.”
“I was,” he nodded distractedly, diving papers off his desk in one swift movement. He pushed her backwards, so that she was lying on the cold marble topped work space. He moved over her, and kissed her properly now, as he had downstairs. On the lips, with all the needs his body held. “I thought I should remind myself exactly what I’m giving up, first.”
His hands lifted the hem of her dress, higher and higher, so that her legs were bare to his eyes and his hands. He was kissing her neck, her shoulder, pulling at her dress so that her body was his to touch and move his mouth over. She arched her back, not caring that the desk was hard and cold beneath her. Her hands ran over his shoulders, and her legs, bare now, were wrapped around him.
Mikey needed to think, but his body was so distracting. She shook her head. “Why are you giving this up, then?”
He lifted his head to stare into her eyes. Her face was still tear stained, her eyes hurt, her frown a very recent memory. He moved away, just far enough so that he could see her properly, and she could see him. “Because, Mikey, I would hurt you. It’s as inevitable as the day follows the night. I would hurt you. And I don’t want to.”
“Then don’t. Just don’t hurt me,” she groaned, thinking, begging him silently, to not stop. She needed more. More of his body making love to hers. More tasting his lips and clashing tongues.
“It’s just who I am. I cannot do this to you.”
“Isn’t that my decision to make?” She asked, pushing up on her elbows and taking his earlobe into her mouth. She sucked it and teased it with her tongue, and then kissed lower, at the base of his neck, where his pulse was beating and his skin was stubbled.
He swore in Greek. “You are making this impossible.”
“I just don’t see why you’re so sure you’re going to hurt me.”
He seemed to be weighing something up, deciding how much to reveal. Eventually, he settled for an angry sigh. He stood up, straightening his shirt. “It’s who I am, and it’s who you are. You’re like a lovely little dove, all soft and sweet and gentle. Too good to be true. I am… not. I have hurt women before. More times than I can remember. But I have always consoled myself that they knew what they were getting. I don’t think you do, Mikey. So I’m making the decision for both of us. Whatever you feel for me, stop feeling it. It’s not possible.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Andrew woke twice that night. Both times with nightmares severe enough to cause him to cry out and scream. His slender little body was drenched with sweat when she went to him, the second time, and he was shivering. His eyes, like large, black balls in the center of his face, were haunted. Nanny Paxton would have helped, but long ago, they’d learned that Andrew responded best to Mikey when he was tormented by dreams. They didn’t know why, as his bond with Nanny Paxton was one of affection and trust. But Mikey was happy to go to him, and desperate to help him find peace after one of his night terrors.
But on top of her passionate scene with Loucas, which had already left her tossing and turning in bed, Mikey entered the kitchen the following morning feeling like a bear with
a sore head. She was so tired and grumpy that she didn’t spare a thought for Bobby, who was cradling his coffee cup broodingly in the corner. She smiled at the physiotherapist, Mandy, and Nanny Paxton, and headed straight for the coffee machine. She slipped a pod in and waited for it to extract the life-giving juice.
“That was a tough one, eh?” Nanny Paxton said, leaning against the kitchen bench, beside Mikey.
Mikey’s pretty face showed her tiredness. In a way, she was relieved that Andrew’s nightmares had at least given her an excuse to look so pathetically exhausted. In truth, the real culprit for her lack of sleep was Loucas.
“Poor little guy,” she murmured quietly. “Some days I think he’s doing so well, but others, it’s like he’s right back there.”
“It will take time,” Nanny Paxton said sagely. “But he will move on. That life does go on is perhaps the greatest tragedy and the most gratifying gift we have.”
“He’ll need a quiet day today,” Mikey mused, thinking that her plans to take him out into the garden to build a fort might be better to leave off for a day or two.
“I was thinking the same thing. Mikey, you’ve been working around the clock. Why don’t you take a break, too. It is a Saturday. You could head over to the mainland and explore the city.”
Bobby looked up, embarrassment still obviously etched into his handsome face. “I’d be up for that.”
Mikey thought about it for a moment. The last thing she needed was a repeat of last night’s fiasco. Then again, she’d always enjoyed Bobby’s company. But would little Andrew miss her if she went off for the whole day? As if reading her thoughts, Nanny Paxton put a hand on Mikey’s arm. “You’ll have a phone. I can call you if he becomes distressed and asks for you. Days, as you know, are not the problem.”
“No,” she murmured, remembering once more the cruel nightmares he suffered from. The cruellest of all for they were simply a replaying of actual events he’d been forced to endure, rather than scary imaginings. In the end, one thought alone convinced her to go.
Loucas.
