She nodded. ‘It feels wonderful.’ She sighed. I shifted and her voice broke on a raw gasp. I had found her G-spot.
I rocked my hips, out and back, digging into that tender spot—euphoria licking at my spine and turning my limbs to jelly as she reacted like a wild thing.
I wanted to last, wanted to make this as magnificent for her as it was for me, but I could feel the orgasm crashing towards me. I held on, held back, kept pushing, kept thrusting, kept digging. Each sweet sigh, each staggered sob, added to the frenzy working through me.
At last her muscles clamped around me, massaging my length, and my climax roared through me.
I collapsed on top of her, hollowed out, spent, but as soon as the afterglow began to fade and my breathing evened out I knew I’d made a terrible mistake.
I saw Remy’s face—open, joking, laughing, uncomplicated and so loyal—and disgust ripped through me. The shadows returned in a rush, chilling my body as I withdrew and felt her flinch.
Doing up my trousers, I got off the lounger and passed her the dress.
&
nbsp; ‘Is everything okay, Alexi?’ she asked, suddenly sounding like a little girl again, wary and unsure.
‘I didn’t use a condom,’ I said, turning my back so she could get dressed.
I dragged unsteady fingers through my hair, appalled at my actions.
‘I... I’m sorry... I think it’s okay, though. I’ve only just finished my period.’ Her voice sounded small, hesitant, embarrassed. And the shame engulfed me.
‘Don’t be sorry,’ I said. ‘Just let me know if there’s a problem.’
I turned back. Thank God she had donned the dress and her panties. But she still looked... Heat pulsed. I needed to leave, to get out of here, before I took her again.
‘Okay?’ I said, more sharply than I had intended.
She nodded, her eyes wide. ‘Yes, Alexi.’
‘Are you going to the track tomorrow?’ I asked, sickened with myself when she nodded.
Of course she would be there, to see Remy test the new car. He would want her there because she was his girl, not mine.
‘Don’t tell Remy what happened between us. It was a mistake, okay?’ I said.
She looked down, her fingers clutched together, the knuckles white. Her shoulders trembled imperceptibly and I felt like a bastard. The bastard my father had always accused me of being. Was she going to cry? Damn it.
Capturing her chin, I lifted her face to mine.
‘Do you understand, Belle? It was a mistake. It’s not going to happen again, we’re not dating,’ I said, keeping my voice cool even though the heat was still thrumming through my system like a ballistic missile.
She nodded again.
‘Say it,’ I demanded.
‘I understand, Alexi. We’re not dating. It was a mistake.’
I wanted to kiss her, to apologise—she looked so forlorn—but I resisted the urge and let go of her chin. Those deep pools of green were filled with sadness, but I forced the prickle of anger to the fore. I wasn’t the only one who had cheated on my brother. She had cheated on him too.
I surged out of the water, the memories of that night five years ago so strong and vivid still, I almost expected to see Belle hiding beside the pool house all over again in that devastating green dress. But tonight the pool terrace was empty, the lights from Monte Carlo blinking in the distance as I climbed out and stood on the stones. I shuddered as I grabbed a towel, but the salt-scented breeze didn’t do enough to cool the heat still rioting through my body, or banish the regret.
I’d been a selfish bastard that night. She had been a virgin—it had been so obvious but I’d ignored all the evidence to absolve my own guilt. And she was right. What had come the day after, the devastating blow of Remy’s death, had been nothing more than a tragic accident.
I’d turned on her in my grief, accused and threatened her and sent her away—not just because I felt guilty about what we’d done, devastated by Remy’s death, but because I still wanted her too much. And as a result she’d been too scared to tell me I was a father. A part of me was still angry that, but for our chance meeting in Barcelona a week ago, I might never have discovered I had a son but much of that anger was now directed at myself.
According to the feedback I’d got from Etienne about her meeting with the legal team after I’d left them, she was not keen to accept any money from me for herself. And I considered that a problem. I didn’t just owe my son. I also owed her.