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Bedding The Billionaire(27)

By:Kendra Little


"No, don't stop," she whispered against his lips. Her own stroking increased as if to encourage him, and she heard him catch his breath.

The palm cupping her dragged against her, rubbing the engorged nub and again Abbey's thighs convulsed. Then, without warning, not one but two fingers shot into her.

The palm rubbed, teasingly touched the sensitive spot, as the fingers drew in and out, sending her into a frenzy.

Damien grunted, sucked in two quick, ragged breaths and withdrew his hand, at the same time removing hers from his throbbing erection. Then with a hard, desperate thrust of his hips, he dove into her to the hilt and let out a long, low growl.

The water at their shoulders sloshed as they moved together, lips and bodies locked in a wet, hot kiss until convulsions gripped them both.

When Abbey's body finally stopped shuddering, she looked up from where she'd let her head fall on Damien's shoulder and she smiled weakly.

He smiled back at her, and the arm around her back gripped tighter, drawing her closer. He held her for a long moment until she finally pulled away. A difficult endeavor with her legs still around his waist and him still inside her.

"We should get back," she said. "Before anyone notices."

He nodded, swallowed. His expression was serious as he brushed the hair from her face, then lifted her sunglasses and placed them on her head.

"Uh, Abbey," he muttered. He touched her cheek with a finger and kissed the tip of her nose.

"Hmmm?"

"About last night..."

She sighed. She didn't want to talk about last night anymore. Talking only seemed to raise their tempers and get them into trouble.

"I know," she said, "you're sorry. I forgive you."

His eyebrows rose. "Really?"

"Don't sound so surprised. Yes, I do, but let's drop the subject, okay?"

He seemed to consider that very seriously.

"Abbey, I want to see you again. Tonight, tomorrow, Friday -"

She placed a finger to his lips. "Don't say anymore. Don't make promises you can't keep."

He stared at her, then shook his head. "I never do that."




 

 

She nodded. He was going to say more. He was going to ask her to go to Sydney, fly up and meet him there. She couldn't do that. Whatever happened here, stayed here in Melbourne and mustn't continue. He was married. He had mistresses. She'd already added to that tally, but that was all she was going to do. She wasn't going to be made a fool of when he dumped her. Which she knew he'd do when he got tired of her -his profile suggested he would. She refused to be dealt with that way. She'd learned her lesson with Tarken.

Besides, she wasn't going to be someone's mistress, not on any long term basis, anyway. She couldn't do it. It was way too gut wrenching knowing that someone else was sharing your man. This man. No. It would hurt for a while when he left to return to Sydney, but it had to end. It was for the best.

Because, Abbey realized, she wanted it all. Marriage, babies, one man, one woman. Love. And, it seemed this man wasn't able to give any of those things to her. Not exclusively.

It was just sex to him. He'd already said so. He'd made it clear that this was nothing more to him that a nice way to spend a few days in a new city.

Hell, the guy probably still thought she was a hooker, despite his apology. That wouldn't surprise her either. Damien Vane wouldn't have any qualms about continuing a sexual relationship with a professional. It fitted his profile exactly.

But despite the enjoyment she got out of sleeping with him, there was no way she was going to continue the liaison beyond this week. Perhaps she'd stop it after today, now. It was beginning to sap her energy. Not the sex-the emotion.

Abbey closed her eyes to try to block out the pain. Why did it feel this way? It wasn't supposed to. Not after two nights, not with a man who had a different woman for every week in the year.

Not with a man who had a wife.

She unlocked her legs from his waist and swam to shallower waters where she could stand. She heard him splashing after her. When he caught up, he stood in front of her, blocking her path.

He stared down at her intensely, his eyes suddenly darker, ominous. She pulled her sunglasses back down so he couldn't see hers. She didn't want him to identify the sadness there.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

She shrugged. "Sure."

He took a deep breath. "So will I see you again?"

"Maybe."

He nodded solemnly. "I see."

She didn't know what he saw. A hooker? A woman who slept with a man while her friend took photos? A woman in deeper than she wanted to be?

If he still believed she was a hooker, maybe Abbey should play up that angle. At least when he thought she was a hooker he was cold towards her, and that made it easier for her to hate him. Right now she preferred to hate him than accept the other emotion that was developing.