Playing by the Greek's Rules Read online

  ‘I’m sure. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. Unless you want to be arrested for performing an indecent act in a public place you’d better tell Vassilis to break a few speed limits.’

  * * *

  Lily walked into the villa she’d cleaned earlier, feeling ridiculously nervous. In the romantic setting of the restaurant this had seemed like a good idea. Now she wasn’t quite so sure. ‘So why did you hire a contract cleaning company?’

  ‘I didn’t.’ He threw his jacket over the back of a chair with careless disregard for its future appearance. ‘I have staff who look after this place. Presumably they arranged it. I didn’t give them much notice of my return. I don’t care how they do their job as long as it gets done.’

  She paced across the living room and stared across the floodlit shimmer of the infinity pool. ‘It’s pretty at night.’ It was romantic, but she knew this had nothing to do with romance. Her other relationships had been with men she knew and cared about. This scenario was new to her. ‘Do you have something to drink?’

  ‘You’re thirsty?’

  Nervous. ‘A little.’

  He gave her a long look, strolled out of the room and returned moments later carrying a glass of water.

  ‘I want you sober,’ he said softly. ‘In fact I insist on it.’

  Realising they were actually going to do this, she suddenly found she was shaking so much the water sloshed out of the glass and onto the floor. ‘Oops. I’m messing up the floor I cleaned earlier.’

  He was standing close to her and her gaze drifted to the bronzed skin at the base of his throat and the blue-shadowed jaw. Everything about him was unapologetically masculine. He wasn’t just dangerously attractive, he was lethal and suddenly she wondered what on earth she was doing. Maybe she should have taken up Spy’s offer of rebound sex, except that Spy didn’t induce one tenth of this crazy response in her. A thrilling sense of anticipation mingled with wicked excitement and she knew she’d regret it for ever if she walked away. She knew she took relationships too seriously. If she was going to try a different approach then there was surely no better man to do it with than Nik.

  ‘Scared?’ His voice was deep, dark velvet and she gave a smile.

  ‘A little. But only because I don’t normally do this and you’re not my usual type. It’s like passing your driving test and then getting behind the wheel of a Ferrari. I’m worried I’ll crash you into a lamppost.’ She put the glass down carefully on the glass table and ran her damp hands over her thighs. ‘Okay, let’s do this. Ignore the fact I’m shaking, go right ahead and do your bad, bad thing, whatever that is.’

  He said nothing. Just looked at her, that dark gaze uncomfortably penetrating.

  She waited, heart pounding, virtually squirming on the spot. ‘I’m not good with delayed gratification. I’m more of an instant person. I like to—’

  ‘Hush.’ Finally he spoke and then he reached out and drew her against him, the look in his eyes driving words and thoughts from her head. She felt the warmth of his hand against the base of her spine, the slow, sensitive stroke of his fingers low on her back and then he lifted his hands and cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. ‘Lily Rose—’

  She swallowed. ‘Nik—’

  ‘Don’t be nervous.’ He murmured the words against her lips. ‘There’s no reason to be nervous.’

  ‘I’m not nervous,’ she lied. ‘But I’m not really sure what happens next.’

  ‘I’ll decide what happens next.’

  Her heart bumped uncomfortably against her ribs. ‘So—what do you want me to do?’

  His mouth hovered close to hers and his fingers grazed her jaw. ‘I want you to stop talking.’

  ‘I’m going to stop talking right now this second.’ Her stomach felt as if a thousand butterflies were trying to escape. She hadn’t expected him to be so gentle, but those exploring fingers were slow, almost languorous as they stroked her face and slid over her neck and into her hair.

  She stood, disorientated by intoxicating pleasure as he trailed his mouth along her jaw, tormenting her with dark, dangerous kisses. Heat uncurled low in her pelvis and spread through her body, sapping the strength from her knees, and she slid her hands over those sleek, powerful shoulders, feeling the hard swell of muscle beneath her palms. His mouth moved lower and she tilted her head back as he kissed her neck and then the base of her throat. She felt the slow slide of his tongue against supersensitive skin, the warmth of his breath and then his hand slid back into her hair and he brought his mouth back to hers. He kissed her with an erotic expertise that made her head spin and her legs grow heavy. With each slow stroke of his tongue, he sent her senses spinning out of control. It was like being drugged. She tried to find her balance, her centre, but just when she felt close to grasping a few threads of control, he used his mouth to drive every coherent thought from her head. Shaky, she lifted her hand to his face, felt the roughness of his jaw against her palm and the lean, spare perfection of his bone structure.

  She slid her fingers into his hair and felt his hand slide down her spine and draw her firmly against him.

  She felt him, brutally hard through the silky fabric of her dress, and she gave a moan, low in her throat as he trapped her there with the strength of his arms, the power in those muscles reminding her that this wasn’t a safe flirtation, or a game.

  His kisses grew rougher, more intimate, more demanding and she tugged at his shirt, her fingers swift and sure on the buttons, her movements more frantic with each bit of male muscle she exposed.

  His chest was powerful, his abs lean and hard and she felt a moment of breathless unease because she’d never had sex with a man built like him.

  He was self-assured and experienced and as she pushed the shirt from his shoulders she tried to take a step backwards.

  ‘I’d like to keep my clothes on, if that’s all right with you.’

  ‘It’s not all right.’ But there was a smile in his voice as he slid his hand from her hips to her waist, pulling her back against him. His fingers brushed against the underside of her breast and she moaned.

  ‘You look as if you spend every spare second of your life working out.’

  ‘I don’t.’

  ‘You get this way through lots of athletic sex?’

  His mouth hovered close to hers. ‘You promised to stop talking.’

  ‘That was before I saw you half naked. I’m intimidated. That photo didn’t lie. Now I know what you look like under your clothes I think I might be having body-image problems.’

  He smiled, and she felt his hands at the back of her dress and the slow slither of silk as her dress slid to the floor.

  Standing in front of him in nothing but her underwear and high heels, she felt ridiculously exposed. It didn’t matter that he’d already seen her that way. This was different.

  He eased back from her, his eyes slumberous and dangerously dark. ‘Let’s go upstairs.’

  Her knees were shaking so much she wasn’t sure she could walk but the next moment he scooped her into his arms and she gave a gasp of shock and dug her hands in his shoulder.

  ‘Don’t you dare drop me. I bruise easily.’ She had a close-up view of his face and stared hungrily at the hard masculine lines, the blue-black shadow of his jaw and the slim, sensual line of his mouth. ‘If I’d known you were planning on carrying me I would have said no to dessert.’

  ‘Dessert was the best part.’ They reached the top of the stairs and he carried her into his bedroom and lowered her to the floor next to the bed.

  She didn’t see him move, and yet a light came on next to the bed sending a soft beam over the silk covers. Glancing around her, Lily realised that if she lay on that bed her body would be illuminated by the wash of light.

  ‘Can we switch the lights off?’

  His eye
s hooded, he lowered his hands to his belt. ‘No.’ As he removed the last of his clothes she let her eyes skid downwards and felt heat pour into her cheeks.

  It was only a brief glance, but it was enough to imprint the image of his body in her brain.

  ‘Do you model underwear in your spare time? Because seriously—’ Her cheeks flooded with colour. ‘Okay so I think this whole thing would be easier in the dark—then I won’t be so intimidated by your supersonic abs.’

  ‘Hush.’ He smoothed her hair back from her face. ‘Do you trust me?’ His voice was rough and she felt a flutter of nerves low in her belly.

  ‘I—yes. I think so. Why? Am I being stupid?’

  ‘No. Close your eyes.’

  She hesitated and then closed them. She heard the sound of a drawer opening and then felt something soft and silky being tied round her eyes.

  ‘What are you doing?’ She lifted her hand but he closed his fingers round her wrist and drew her hands back to her sides.

  ‘Relax.’ His voice was a soft purr. ‘I’m taking away one of your senses. The one that’s making you nervous. There’s no need to panic. You still have four remaining. I want you to use those.’

  ‘I can’t see.’

  ‘Exactly. You wanted to do this in the dark. Now you’re in the dark.’

  ‘I meant that you should put the lights out! It was so you couldn’t see me, not so that I couldn’t see you.’

  ‘Shh.’ His lips nibbled at hers, his tongue stroking over her mouth in a slow, sensual seduction.

  She was quivering, her senses straining with delicious anticipation as she tried to work out where he was and where he’d touch her next.

  She felt his lips on her shoulder and felt his fingers slide the thin straps of her bra over her arms. Wetness pooled between her thighs and she pressed them together, so aroused she could hardly breathe.

  He took his time, explored her neck, her shoulder, the underside of her breast until she wasn’t sure her legs would hold her and he must have known that because he tipped her back onto the bed, supporting her as she lost her balance.

  She could see nothing through the silk mask but she felt the weight of him on top of her, the roughness of his thigh against hers and the slide of silk against her heated flesh as he stripped her naked.

  She was quivering, her senses sharpened by her lack of vision. She felt the warmth of his mouth close over the tip of her breast, the skilled flick of his tongue sending arrows of pleasure shooting through her over-sensitised body.

  She gave a moan and clutched at his shoulders. ‘Do we need a safe word or something?’ She felt him pause.

  ‘Why would you need a safe word?’

  ‘I thought—’

  ‘I’m not going to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.’

  ‘What do I say if I want you to stop?’

  His mouth brushed lightly across her jaw. ‘You say “stop”.’

  ‘That’s it?’

  ‘That’s it.’ There was a smile in his voice. ‘If I do one single thing that makes you uncomfortable, tell me.’

  ‘Is embarrassed the same as uncomfortable?’

  He gave a soft laugh and she felt the stroke of his palm on her thigh and then he parted her legs and his mouth drifted from her belly to her inner thigh.

  He paused, his breath warm against that secret place. ‘Relax, erota mou.’

  She lifted her hands to remove the blindfold but he caught her wrists in one hand and held them pinned, while he used the other to part her and expose her secrets.

  Unbearably aroused, melting with a confusing mix of desire and mortification, she tried to close her legs but he licked at her intimately, opening her with his tongue, exploring her vulnerable flesh with erotic skill and purpose until all she wanted was for him to finish what he’d started.

  ‘Nik—’ She writhed, sobbed, struggled against him and he released her hands and anchored her hips, holding her trapped as he explored her with his tongue.

  She’d forgotten all about removing the blindfold.

  The only thing in her head was easing the maddening ache that was fast becoming unbearable.

  She dug her fingers in the sheets, moaning as he slid his fingers deep inside her, manipulating her body and her senses until she tipped into excitement overload. She felt herself start to throb round those seeking fingers, but instead of giving her what she wanted he gently withdrew his hand and eased away from her.

  ‘Please! Oh, please—’ she sobbed in protest, wondering what he was doing.

  Was he leaving her?

  Was he stopping?

  With a whimper of protest, she writhed and reached for him and then she heard a faint sound and understood the reason for the brief interlude.

  Condom, she thought, and then the ability to think coherently vanished because he covered her with the hard heat of his body. She felt the blunt thrust of his erection at her moist entrance and tensed in anticipation, but instead of entering her he cupped her face in his hand and gently slid off the blindfold.

  ‘Look at me.’ His soft command penetrated her brain and she opened her eyes and stared at him dizzily just as he slid his hand under her bottom and entered her in a series of slow, deliciously skilful thrusts. He was incredibly gentle, taking his time, murmuring soft words in Greek and then English as he moved deep into the heart of her. Then he paused, kissed her mouth gently, holding her gaze with his.

  ‘Are you all right? Do you want to use the safe word?’ His voice was gently teasing but the glitter in his eyes and the tension in his jaw told her he was nowhere near as relaxed as he pretended to be.

  In the grip of such intolerable excitement she was incapable of responding, Lily simply shook her head and then moaned as he withdrew slightly and surged into her again, every movement of his body escalating the wickedly agonising pleasure.

  She slid her hands over the silken width of his shoulders, down his back, her fingers clamping over the thrusting power of his body as he rocked against her. His hand was splayed on her bottom, his gaze locked on hers as he drove into her with ruthlessly controlled strength and a raw, primitive rhythm. She wrapped her legs around him as he brought pleasure raining down on both of them. She cried out his name and he took her mouth, kissing her deeply, intimately, as the first ripple of orgasm took hold of her body. They didn’t stop kissing, mouths locked, eyes locked as her body contracted around his and dragged him over the edge of control. She’d never experienced anything like it, the whole experience a shattering revelation about her capacity for sensuality.

  It was several minutes before she was capable of speaking and longer than that before she could persuade her body to move.

  As she tried to roll away from him, his arms locked around her. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’

  ‘I’m sticking to the rules. I thought this was a one-night thing.’

  ‘It is.’ He hauled her back against him. ‘And the night isn’t over yet.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  NIK SPENT TEN MINUTES under a cold shower, trying to wake himself up after a night that had consisted of the worst sleep of his life and the best sex. He couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t wanted to leave the bed in the morning.

  A ton of work waited for him in the office, but for the first time ever he was contemplating working from home so that he could spend a few more hours with Lily. After her initial shyness she’d proved to be adventurous and insatiable, qualities that had kept both of them awake until the rising sun had sent the first flickers of light across the darkened bedroom.

  Eventually she’d fallen into an exhausted sleep, her body tangled around his as dawn had bathed the bedroom in a golden glow.

  It had proved impossible to extract himself without waking her so Nik, whose least favourite bedroom a
ctivity was hugging, had remained there, his senses bathed in the soft floral scent of her skin and hair, trapped by those long limbs wrapped trustingly around him.

  And he had no one to blame but himself.

  She’d offered to leave and he’d stopped her.

  He frowned, surprised by his own actions. He had no need for displays of affection or any of the other meaningless rituals that seemed to inhabit other people’s relationships. To him, sex was a physical need, no different from hunger and thirst. Once satisfied he moved on. He had no desire for anything deeper. He didn’t believe anything deeper existed.

  When he was younger, women had tried to persuade him differently. There had been a substantial number who had believed they had what it took to penetrate whatever steely coating made his heart so inaccessible. When they’d had no more success than their predecessors they’d withdrawn, bruised and broken, but not before they’d delivered their own personal diagnosis on his sorry condition.

  He’d heard it all. That he didn’t have a heart, that he was selfish, single minded, driven, too focused on his work. He accepted those accusations without argument, but knew that none explained his perpetually single status. Quite simply, he didn’t believe in love. He’d learned at an early age that love could be withdrawn as easily as it was given, that promises could be made and broken in the same breath, that a wedding ring was no more than a piece of jewellery, and wedding vows no more binding than one plant twisted loosely around another.

  He had no need for the friendship and affection that punctuated other people’s lives.

  He’d taught himself to live without it, so to find himself wrapped in the tight embrace of a woman who smiled even when she was asleep was as alien to him as it was unsettling.

  For a while, he’d slept, too, and then woken to find her locked against him. Telling himself that she was the one holding him and not the other way round, he’d managed to extract himself without waking her and escaped to the bathroom where he contemplated his options.