Sinful temptations, p.21
Sinful Temptations, page 21
part #2 of Six Months of Sin Series
“She’s good. She’s moved on from the dog biscuits but now she’s found the spaghetti. She can chomp on those sticks for hours. I figure as long as she doesn’t spear her larynx, she’ll be fine.”
She laughed and I joined her. “And Kane?”
She rolled her eyes. “I swear he’s doubling in size every few months. At this rate, he’ll be bigger than his father come Christmas.”
When Zali had found out she was pregnant, she’d already passed the three-month mark and by that time, the ‘sperm donor’ had been long gone. During our time on the Sea Dancer, she’d had sex with many guys—cruise ship staff and some passengers. But for some reason, she’d decided that a passenger named Erik was Kane’s father. Maybe she wanted to believe it was him, given that he was stunningly handsome, had broad shoulders, bulging biceps, and had said he was a pilot. She didn’t even know if Erik was his real name, or if he really was a pilot. But Zali had claimed him as Kane’s father right from the moment she’d decided to keep the baby.
“God, I hope not,” I said. “Wasn’t Erik enormous?”
“Fuck yeah. Built like Mr. Universe. Speaking of Mr. Universe, you hooked up with Roman yet?”
My shoulders slumped. “No.” I shook my head. “It’s not going to happen. I told you that.”
“Hmmm.” She shifted in her seat, wobbling the image on the screen until she settled. “Okay, tell me what’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on.”
“You’re always calling me an intuitive freak. So, here’s my freaky summary of what I’m seeing. First up, you only ever FaceTime when something is wrong.”
“That’s not true.”
All she did was cock her head and remain silent and it was enough to know she was right. “Well, we need to change that. From now on, I’m FaceTiming you as much as I can.”
“Great. Do it. I’ll try to make sure I’m dressed when I answer.”
“Good plan.”
“Dais, I can see that you’re upset about something. What is it, babe? Come on. Tell me.”
“You have enough going—”
“Stop right there.” She cut me off. “I could be in the middle of a heart attack and I’d still answer the phone for you. When are you going to learn that? We’re best friends, babe. That’s what we do for each other.”
Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
I swallowed back a lump in my throat that was the size of my left boob. “I know.” Shit. My voice wobbled.
“Oh, babe.” Zali honed in on my wretched emotions like a truth-seeking missile. “He’s really got to you, hasn’t he?”
My chin dimpled as I nodded.
“Have you told him how you feel?”
“What? No. Of course not.”
She tilted her head and blinked at me. “Why not?”
“I can’t do that. We are not meant to be together. He’s everything I’m not.”
“Dais—”
“Wait, let me finish.”
She nodded, all calm.
“Roman is the most amazing man I’ve ever met. But we’re not meant to be together. He’s in a different time in his life. But that’s the least of my worries, Zali. I’m about to get kicked out of Europe. How could we possibly be together?”
“Well . . . heaps of couples have long-distance relationships.”
“Oh, like that’s going to work.”
“It works for you and I.”
“Not helping.”
“Of course it is. Technology today . . . you can practically fuck each other over the airwaves.”
I huffed. “Anyway, this whole conversation is pointless. He’s got his eyes on Lydia.” I told Zali all about Miss Italy, everything from her dazzling teeth to her brilliant mind.
“Well fuck. You need to stick your boobs in his face and remind him what he’s missing.”
I laughed with her. “It’s not like that.”
“Fuck, babe, you’re acting like he’s a God.”
“He is a God.”
“Really?”
I nodded.
“Shit, you’ve got it bad.”
“And to top it off, I was so pissed last night I don’t remember getting home.”
“Oh shit. Here we go. And?”
“And nothing. I woke up in my bed. Fully clothed.”
“Fully clothed?”
My shoulders sagged. “Uh huh.”
“Wow. Every man I know would’ve used it as an excuse to undress me. What’s wrong with him?”
Two obvious reasons came to mind. I voiced the first one, “He’s a gentleman.”
“Yeah right.”
“Or he’s repulsed by me.”
“He’s not fucking repulsed by you. Oh, babe, you’ve really fallen, haven’t you.”
I nodded again. “What am I going to do?”
She wriggled around on her seat and after a pause, which was well out of character for her, she said, “The way I see it, you have two options.”
“Okay, I’m listening.”
“Option A. You let Roman know exactly how you feel. Lay your whole fucking heart on the line. If he is a fucking God, you’ll figure a way around it.”
“Okay, and option two?”
“You walk away.”
A groan tumbled from my throat.
“Walk away now before you really are fucked up. Finish your last few months in Europe doing what you’d planned to do . . . find heaps of guys to fuck your brains out.”
“That wasn’t the plan.”
She scrunched up her nose. “Well not exactly, but you were on a roll.”
“Yeah.” I sighed a heavy sigh.
“If you’re gonna do that, then you need to commit. Full on go for it. Hook Roman up with that other chick and get him out of your brain. Then you get back on that fucking horse and get yourself laid. Just pretend Roman is me.”
“Pfft. Nobody is like you.”
“Yeah. I know that.” She bulged her eyes. “But I mean pretend he’s just a friend, and your job is to hook him up with anybody else but you. Or . . .” Her eyes bulged even more. “Or there is an option C—you fuck his brains out, but the whole time remind yourself that it means nothing. Just sex.”
I groaned again. “Not sure I can do that.”
“Ahhh. Pity. Okay then, so it’s option A or option B.”
I wasn’t sure I could fully open my heart again. William had already fed my heart into a shredder and I was only just putting the last pieces together. But it was too late—Roman had entered my heart already and I was going to implode. Squeezing my eyes shut, I sighed.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking I need to sleep on it.”
“Okay, babe. I’m here for you. Call me anytime. I mean it—any time. Love ya, babe.”
“Love you too. Thanks for the chat.” After hanging up the call, I put my phone on to charge and crawled into bed.
As I closed my eyes, Roman flashed across my mind—beautiful images of the sun glistening in his eyes, of him dancing and moving his hips to the energetic beat. Of him rubbing my leg when I was crippled with period pain. And then there was his smile, the one that made me feel like I was the only woman in the world.
“Oh, Roman.”
He’d not only entered my heart—he’d entered my soul too.
Chapter Fifteen
The next few days, as we crawled through Rome, Venice, and finally arrived at Thorsteinn Castle in Austria, were the emotional equivalent of a tornado. Every time I thought I knew the answer to what to do about Roman, my mind would twist again and the solution would be ripped from my grasp. Roman and Lydia continued to flirt with each other, and although I tried to give them as much space as possible, I was also like a creepy stalker, constantly checking out Roman.
Zali and I talked every day and her worry for me was upsetting. She had enough going on without my bullshit adding to it.
Roman had become unpredictable, seesawing from jovial and smiling, to dark and brooding. My heart wept at his inability to open up to me. And I was absolutely useless at that stuff. Whenever we had a private moment together, which unfortunately was rare, I either didn’t want to ruin it, or I had no idea how to initiate the difficult conversation.
But there was a theme that was becoming as obvious as if we were in an Italian opera. When Roman was with Lydia, he was happy. With me, not so much. I had a terrible feeling it was something I’d done. And the timing meant it was something I’d done the night after the winery. Lord knew what I’d said while I was drunk.
With my feelings for him being my own private battleground, I’d probably fired a freakin’ ‘I love you’ cannon and I didn’t even remember it.
Oh God. I wanted to crawl under the bus and have him drive over me a dozen times.
But rejecting that as an option, I opted for my lovely hot tub in the castle keep instead. I needed some alone time. Something I’d barely had since I’d met Roman. Maybe while I soaked in heavenly bliss, I’d get flashbacks of what I’d done after the winery.
As I made my way down the curved stairwell, I hoped Count Frederik had drunk a bottle of whiskey for breakfast and was passed out somewhere well away from me.
Upon entering the tiny room, I sighed with content at the delightful aromas and the subtle lighting. Katrin was an absolute angel, and I made a mental note to buy something special to give to her on my next visit.
I slipped my shoulders beneath the warm water and sighed. So far, so good on the Frederik front. Closing my eyes, I prayed it would remain that way.
Barely two seconds later, I cursed at the sound of the door creaking open. Shit!
He didn’t loiter in the shadows this time. No. Count Frederik stepped forward and my breath caught at how stunning he looked. He wore a white linen shirt that he’d unbuttoned to reveal his ripped abs. His hair was out, curling in waves to his shoulders. And he’d done a mighty fine job of a close-cropped beard that gave him a classy roguish appearance.
He inclined his head ever so slightly and the candlelight captured the intense green of his irises like he’d planned that move. “Hello, Daisy.”
Maybe being alone wasn’t the solution to my troubles after all. Despite myself, I couldn’t help the tiny smile curling on my lips. “Frederik.”
He ducked back into the shadows, but emerged seconds later wearing just black speedos. As he climbed into the bath, my eyes cruised over his defined muscles. Whatever Frederik did to keep in shape was working just fine.
He slipped into the water, barely creating a ripple and we stared into each other’s eyes from the opposite sides of the tub. It was both awkward and titillating. He had the tiniest curl at the side of his lips, like he was about to do something totally crazy.
Were we going to have a repeat of last month?
Did I want that?
I had so much crap going on in my mind, it was a wonder I could think rationally. Above the water, I was calm, in control. Not! Beneath the water, I twisted my fingers into knots. At the top of my turmoil was Roman. My attraction to him was stupid. And wrong. And killing me in so many ways.
Thinking of him with Lydia, them laughing and giggling, them touching each other, them fucking each other’s brains out, had furious waves of anger rolling through me so fast, I wanted to scream.
Why do I even waste my energy on him?
Especially when there was a smoking-hot count staring at me with lust in his eyes.
Frederik licked his bottom lip ever so slowly. “Have you had a good month?”
I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to think. What I wanted was to forget. Blood coursed through my body like it was jet propelled.
Unable to hold back a second longer, I crossed the distance between us, curling a wave of scented water over the tub rim as I latched my lips onto his. Driving my fingers through his long hair, I grabbed a handful and pulled him toward me.
Thank God Frederik didn’t reject me.
Lord no! He was the opposite—eager to please.
Our tongues dueled in a greedy race to taste each other. A moan tumbled from his throat, and I matched it with a groan of my own.
His hand glided up my back and I copied him, feeling the firm muscles beneath his wet flesh.
I eased away and when I saw the lust in his stunning green eyes, I stood, undid the hook on my bikini top, tossed it aside, and shoved my left boob in his face. He didn’t miss a beat, latching his lips onto my nipple and sucking, hard.
I tilted my head, forcing myself to focus on now. And oh, what a glorious now it was. Romantic setting. Delightful aromas. Sexy mysterious stud.
His finger slipped into my pants and slid over my clit. I gasped at the swiftness, clawing my nails up his back. He pulled my bikini bottoms down to my ankles and I kicked them free.
I stepped forward, straddling his legs and practically begging him to finger fuck me. When he shoved his finger inside me, I cried out. The sound echoed off the stone walls. I closed my eyes, shut off the tumbling thoughts, and let my body take over.
As I clutched his head to my breast, he rammed two fingers inside me. I bent my knees and clamped my insides around his fingers like a velvet glove.
He twisted his fingers in and out in a smooth gliding motion over and over, and an orgasm was growing inside me.
It was wild, unfettered, driven.
The sexual spring inside me wound tighter. And tighter. Every nerve in my body tingled. My eyes shot open and flashed onto Frederik. His eyes were open too. They met mine and for the briefest of seconds when he glanced at me, but it was clear he wasn’t really seeing—he was lost to another world.
A sexual, erotic world.
A world where my mind finally slipped from my emotional hell and into heavenly bliss. There was nothing but my raging orgasm and his incredible fingers.
My whole body stiffened. I clamped my teeth together. I clawed at his hair.
A cry burst from my throat as my body imploded. Exploded.
My climax came out of nowhere, rolling through me like a tidal wave.
I gasped at the intensity, melted at the release, crumbled into a million quivering pieces.
It was over in minutes, seconds even.
I’d never had sex like that. It was like I’d been obsessed. Angry.
Maybe I was angry.
Easing back, I curled my lip into my mouth, suddenly overwhelmed with embarrassment. “Sorry.” I eased into the water and fetched my bikini bottoms with my foot.
“No need to be.”
I tugged my pants on, and with my heart pounding so hard it was a wonder it didn’t make waves in the water, I climbed out of the tub. “I have to go.”
“Okay.”
Wrapping my towel around my waist and clutching it over my bare chest, I glanced at Frederik.
He was still in the water, a frown heavy over his stunning eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I lied. “Sorry.”
I grabbed my bikini top, dashed out the door, and raced up the stairs. Every step added another layer of guilt to my already fucked up brain.
A sob burst from my throat as I shoved the key into my door. Slamming it behind me, I dove onto the bed, shoved my face into the pillow, and bawled my eyes out.
What have I done?
Hardly able to breathe, I heaved wracking sobs as I searched for the answer.
I know exactly what I’ve done.
I fucked one man, yet my heart was for another.
Oh God.
I am never going to be whole again.
Chapter Sixteen
After my crazy sexual release with Frederik, every time I was near Roman, and even when I wasn’t, my guilt strangled me like a barbed wire chastity belt. Yet even as I tried to rationalize it, and Zali slapped me with her words of wisdom, I couldn’t get it to stick in my thick brain that I had no reason to be guilty. Roman and I were not together. We had not pledged our love to each other. He wasn’t tied to me and I certainly wasn’t tied to him in any way.
I had not cheated.
Yet I still felt like a slut.
From Thorsteinn Castle, Roman drove us to a cute little town in Germany’s Black Forest called Baden-Baden. During the six-hour drive, Roman remained quiet nearly the entire way. I did too. It was like both of us were living in our own nightmarish bubbles.
I hated that I still had no idea what his problem was.
As Roman turned off the highway and into the main street of our next destination, I grabbed the microphone. “Okay, folks. Wakey, wakey.”
As usual, most of them had slept the entire way. Not that I blamed them. Many would have been up past midnight at the castle banquet. And we’d had an early start this morning. I waited for most of them to stir before I said, “Welcome to Baden-Baden.”
“Ever since the nineteenth century, Baden-Baden has been attracting tourists to this spa town in the south-western corner of the Black Forest. Does anyone know why it’s called the Black Forest?”
“Because it’s black,” Mitchel, one of the New Zealanders, yelled from the back row.
“Not exactly,” I replied. “The forest is so dense that sunlight has trouble getting through the foliage. The Romans called it Silva Nigra which means black, or dark and murky forest. At the time it was considered impenetrable, and therefore scary. It’s no wonder several of the Grimm brothers’ fairy tales come from this region.
“Anyway . . .” I shifted in my seat, affording me a better view of Roman. He was the picture of concentration as he guided the bus into the packed parking area. “You are free to stretch your legs here for one hour. There are loads of cute shops selling everything from cuckoo clocks, to souvenirs, to black forest cake. We’ll see you back on the bus at three o’clock.” I knew exactly what I was going to do for the hour. I was heading for that cake and a bloody big chunk of it too.
The troops offloaded, and with sorrow hanging in my heart, Roman and Lydia walked one way talking about checking out the cuckoo clocks, I marched the other.
The coffee shop I headed for was at the end of the street, and if I was lucky, I’d be able to snag one of the tables that overlooked the Oos river.
At the counter, I ordered a double-shot cappuccino and the signature dish—a slice of the rich, Black Forest cake loaded with plump cherries—and requested a double dollop of cream.
