“Mmm…nice,” Jack murmured huskily.
“I think so,” Sally said with a flirty little laugh, lifting her hand for the glass of champagne and feeling herself flush at her own boldness.
“You are beautiful, Sally Maguire.” His vivid blue eyes locked onto hers as he passed her the glass. “Have I told you that?”
“No. Not until now.” Did he really think so, or was it simply something he said in the grip of sexual pleasure?
“I thought you were beautiful at fourteen. You’re even more so as a woman.”
At fourteen? Her mind boggled at the thought he’d held that image of her all these years. It couldn’t be true, yet the look in his eyes was making her feel beautiful, and it was a wonderful feeling.
She remembered her first impression of him—the most strikingly handsome young man she’d ever seen, the strong aura of purpose about him. “I never forgot you, Jack. You left your mark on me that day,” she confessed.
“My mark…” he repeated musingly.
“I didn’t know about you before you came, but then I did, and nothing was quite the same after that. So many things started to feel wrong.” She shook her head ruefully. “There was nothing I could do to correct the situation but I thought about you. A lot.”
He smiled, his eyes taking on a wicked glint. “I aim to keep you thinking of me, and not so much from a distance.”
“You can close in any time,” she invited, feeling deliciously wicked herself as she sipped her champagne and ogled him over the rim of the glass.
He laughed and sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ll do that. Just you sit there and enjoy your drink while I enjoy mine.”
But he didn’t sip from his glass. He dipped his fingers into it and shook droplets around the tip of one of her breasts. Then he swooped down to lick up the fizzing bubbles, his tongue swirling around the tightly protruding nipple, his mouth closing over it, sucking. Sally’s breath caught in her throat. Her stomach contracted as a bolt of excitement arced through it.
He repeated the action with her other breast. She didn’t enjoy her drink. She forgot all about it, though her hand gripped the glass hard, as though it was an anchor to save her from being completely swept away and splintered into pieces. As it was, her body quivered uncontrollably when he trickled champagne into her navel and sipped from it.
He lifted his head and grinned at her as he moved lower down on the bed. “Drink up, my darling girl. We’re supposed to be celebrating together. And if you pretend this isn’t happening, it’s more challenging for me, more exciting for you,” he added wickedly.
She tried, gulping down her champagne as he dribbled his over the heat of her sex and lapped it up—unimaginably erotic stuff that blew her mind—the coolness, the heat, repeated over and over again, the exquisite sensitivity of his tongue stroking her most intimate femininity. It was so exciting, she could hardly bear it. Her whole body was throbbing like a volcano about to explode. It was impossible to keep pretending. Somehow she made herself wait until both their glasses had been emptied, then flung hers aside, jack-knifed up and grabbed his head.
“No more, no more,” she cried, dragging him up, wild to have him inside her again. “I need you now. Now!”
“Have me then,” he growled.
And it was so heavenly to feel the huge rush of him filling her need, satisfying it, and she clasped him to her with all of her being, exulting in the sheer magical pleasure of feeling so deeply connected to him. She kissed him in a frenzy of passionate possession, her hands tangling themselves in his hair, her legs wound around him, urging on the marvellous rhythm that reinforced and heightened the intensity of their union. Together they climbed climactic mountains and finally reached a state of satiation that let them drift down into a lovely sensual peace.
Eventually Jack suggested they treat themselves to a spa bath as a revival measure. They took the bottle of champagne and their glasses with them and luxuriated in the bubbling water, Sally drinking more slowly, more appreciatively this time, realising it was very expensive French champagne and delicious on the palate, almost as delicious as lazily caressing Jack’s naked body with her own, floating around him, their eyes smiling their happiness in each other.
“Your next World Cup event is the Royal Easter Show in Sydney, isn’t it?” he remarked, hooking his foot behind her back to bring her closer.
“Yes,” she agreed, sliding forward to sit over his groin. What he’d done and said to her in the bedroom had completely banished any inhibitions about her own body, making it a joy to take any liberty with his.
He grinned at her wicked response. “You could stay with me in my apartment while you’re in the city. I’ll take you to the showground for your competition each day.”
“I’d like that,” she said, leaning forward to give him a thank-you kiss, delighted with the invitation into his world.
He turned the kiss into a far more intoxicating one. “Right now I can’t have enough of you, Sally Maguire,” he murmured against her mouth.
Nor she of him.
She didn’t care about the “right now” part.
Spending Easter with him in Sydney sounded wonderful to her.
As long as he wanted her she was his.
She blanked her mind to any end to their relationship sometime in the future. She didn’t want to think about anything but what they were sharing right now, and she didn’t, not until the weekend was over and Jack had gone back to his life in the city.
Then Jane called.
And Sally, still full of her feelings for Jack Maguire, spilled them out to her sister, wanting Jane to be happy for her.
Unhappily, the response was very different.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SHOCK…
It didn’t matter how Sally explained the situation, shock came back at her in every word Jane spoke. Pained shock.
“Oh, no!”
“You didn’t let him…”
“He had it planned all along.”
“You fell into his trap, Sally.”
“He’s got you right where he wants you.”
“But, Jane, please understand…I love him,” Sally protested. “I’ve never been in love before and it’s marvellous. Truly…”
“I bet he hasn’t said he loves you,” she returned hard and fast. “He set out to seduce you from day one. Which is why he didn’t want me there whenever he visited. He wanted you and he aimed to have you, just like Mum said.”