She gasped. “Luke, no.”
“Easy.” With her enthusiasm for sex, he was surprised she seemed to be resistant to doggie style. “Just let me touch you. You’re so pretty back here.” Kissing her smooth cheek, he felt her quivering response.
Maybe she only needed a little coaxing, and since she was breathing quickly, nearing her first climax, now would be the time. As he slipped two fingers into her moist channel, her spasms began. She surrendered to her climax with a wail as he used quick strokes to heighten the sensation of the jets. Her cries echoed against the walls of the shower.
Her contractions subsided for a brief moment, and then he felt her tighten around him again. She moaned and pushed against the motion of his fingers. Her hips lifted, inviting him deeper. She wanted this, wanted more than this.
His cock swelled in response. Standing, he grasped her hips. With one firm thrust, he sank deep. When he was buried up to the hilt, primitive instinct took over and he went a little crazy.
The rapid slap of his thighs against hers beat in rhythm to the staccato sounds of their breathing, their groans, and finally, a climax that found them both at the same moment. She was loud, but he was louder, yelling at the top of his lungs, wild with the glory of it.
They stayed coupled together as the jets beat all around them. Luke had thought he’d experienced sex with Giselle before, but he hadn’t touched the very core of her until now.
She dragged in a breath and uttered one soft word. “Enough.”
He understood. Sliding his hand around her body, he cupped her mound, shielding it from the jet. Then he wrapped his other arm under her breasts as he slowly eased his cock free.
Although he was a little shaky, he called on his iron will. Turning her limp body around, he lifted her and carried her out of the shower. She would hate it if he put her back in that sticky bed, but the comforter was lying in a heap at the foot of it.
When he laid her down on it, she made a sound of protest.
“It’s fine.” Walking back into the bathroom, he grabbed up several large towels, also white. He’d been thorough in his color-coordination efforts.
She lay curled on her side when he returned, but when he began drying her, she rolled to her back and opened her eyes. He didn’t know what he’d expected to find there, but it hadn’t been fear. She looked terrified.
A million thoughts ran through his head. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“If you don’t tell me, how can I fix it?”
“You can’t fix this. Nobody can. But . . . we shouldn’t have sex anymore.”
Her statement hit him like a medicine ball to the gut. “Look, I’m sorry. But you acted as if you wanted—”
“I did. I wanted you to do exactly what you did, and that’s why we have to stop having sex.”
He frowned. “Giselle, there’s nothing wrong with that position. People have sex like that all the time.”
“I know.”
“Did someone tell you it was wrong? Were you taught that?”
“No. I was taught that anything that brings pleasure to both partners is fine, but . . .”
“But what? Did I hurt you?”
“No.” Some of the fear left her eyes. “I loved it. And that’s why we can’t have sex anymore.”
He stared at her. “You’re not making any sense. I can’t speak for you, although you said you loved what just happened. As for me, it was the best sexual experience of my life, bar none. I’ve never felt so deeply connected to a woman as I did while I was making love to you in that shower.”
“Oh, God.” She buried her face in her hands. “I know! I know! That’s the problem!”
Frustration made him get agitated. “How can it be a problem? Are you engaged? Married? You’re not wearing any rings, and you sure have acted like you were single, but if there’s another guy, then damn it, tell me!”
She looked up and her expression was bleak. “There’s no one else. But there is a reason why we can’t ever be together, and I can’t tell you what it is. I thought we could have a little sexual fun together and be done, but that’s not how it’s turning out.”
“Hm.” Some of his indignation leaked away as he saw how truly miserable she was. “Well, I can’t imagine what this big secret is that you can’t reveal.” Then he had a terrible thought. “Please don’t tell me you have a horrible disease. No, wait. Please do tell me, so that I can help.”
“You are so sweet.” She seemed on the verge of tears. “I’m not dying, and I’m not sick. Not at all. But thanks for the sympathy you would have given me if I were.”
Luke blew out a breath, hugely relieved. “Thank God. But that leaves . . .” He racked his brain for a logical explanation. “I know. You have psychotic episodes. Maybe you even killed someone and your family covered it up. You’re afraid it could happen again, so you can’t get deeply involved with anyone. And you had your tubes tied to make sure the trait wasn’t passed on.” He glanced at her. “Is that it?”
She shook her head. “I’m not psychotic. Stupid, yes. Psychotic, no.” She gazed up at him. “Can’t you just accept that we have no future and let it go at that?”
“Absolutely! I thought we’d covered the subject and we’d have lots of no-strings sex until you left for ’Frisco. I was on board with that. Then you announce we can’t have sex, after all.”
“I’m afraid we’re going to fall in love.”
Once again, he was sucker-punched. Yeah, it could happen. Probably had begun already, but he wasn’t a poker player for nothing. “Hell, no, we’re not! This is about sex, lady, not love. Do you see me writing you little notes? Bringing you flowers? Finding out your birthday?”
“No.” For the first time since they’d left the bathroom, she managed a tiny smile.
“That’s what I do when I’m falling in love, and if you don’t notice those behaviors, you can safely assume I’m only here for the S-E-X and nothing else.”
“But you looked really upset when you thought I might be sick.”
“Hey, I tear up at sad movies. I hate hearing about tragedies thousands of miles away. You could be a total stranger and I’d still be upset if you said you were really sick.”
She cocked her head to study him.
He stared right back. Her hair was a disaster, soggy strands that desperately needed to be combed out. All her makeup had been washed away, which meant he could see the pale freckles sprinkled across her nose. She was a knockout.
“How about if I crack jokes while we’re having sex?” he said. “Will that convince you this is strictly a physical attraction?”
“Do you know a lot of jokes?”
Hope bloomed where before had stretched a Giselle-less desert. “Will I need a lot of jokes?”
She grinned at him. “You might.”
“Aha!” Moving over her, he urged her back onto the quilt and settled himself between her thighs. All this depressing talk had taken the lead out of his pencil, but in this position he’d be good to go in no time. “These three monkeys walked into a bar, and the first monkey said—”
“You’re wonderful.”
“No, he didn’t say that. He said—”
“I mean you are wonderful, Luke Dalton. Now kiss me and quit talking about monkeys.”
So he kissed her and silently congratulated himself on dodging a bullet. He also hoped he still had a joke book tucked away somewhere.
Chapter 16
Giselle had more sex that night than she’d known was possible. Once they’d agreed a bed would be more comfortable than the floor, Luke had suggested moving to a different bedroom. Apparently, the penthouse had several. But Giselle had become fond of this bedroom and this particular bed, so she’d asked to stay.