Flirting With Forever by Gwyn Cready (new books to read TXT) 📕

“What is this?” he asked in a choked whisper.

“A bra.”

“Such fearlessness,” he marveled as he paced. “Such damn-it-al harlotry.”

Inebriated by the words, she lifted the fabric of her skirt, pooling it over her arm at her waist.

“Holy Mother of God.”

“Panties,” she said.

Ruffles hung over her ass like a skirt, flutters of translucent fabric weighted by tiny swaying crystals at the hem.

“I think,” he said, “I must sit down.”

He sunk onto the arm of the couch, elbows on his knees, cupping his hands at his chin. He lifted his gaze to hers.

The admiration shone strong, but the desire had been replaced by something more somber.

“Al of this,” he said, “for Jacket.”

She couldn’t lie. She let the skirt drop. “It’s al I have to give him.”

Peter took her hand and pressed it to his mouth. “I do not wish to let you go.”

“You won’t.” She combed a hand through the dark waves of his hair. “We’l hold each other forever.”

“Campbel ”—his voice lost its certainty—“I-I must go.”

“No.”

“Aye. I can stay for a bit, but not forever.”

“How long is ‘a bit’?”

“Weeks. A month. No more. Every day is riskier.”

“No. Forever. Please.”

“I do not choose it, Campbel . My time here is over.”

She felt her new happiness slipping away. “Then I’l come with you.” She slipped her hand under his jacket, looking for reassurance in the broad, muscular warmth of his chest.

His face turned gray. “You cannot come with me, either.”

“Why, Peter? Why?”

“The Guild wil not al ow it. And in any case, the me you know wil be placed in a new life, never to return to these old bones.”

She struggled for air. “I-I’l never see you again.”

He shook his head sadly.

“No. No! I’l go to them. I’l —”

“No, Campbel , no. You wil do exactly this. You wil go home to Jacket. It would be best for al of us. You wil wear his ring. You wil take him to your bed, and you wil help him learn to make you happy. That is the gift you can give me.”

“Is that what you think?” The blood began to ring in her ears.

“Campbel , you know it to be true. His art is good, that much I can tel you truly, and you saw the goodness in him once. You wil see it again. I am the only obstacle.”

“You have a damned high opinion of yourself.”

“I beg your pardon.”

“My heart is the obstacle. I cannot love him. Not now.”

“Campbel …”

“I choose you, Peter. Now.”

Before she could think, his arms were around her, clutching her tightly. The heady scent of his skin—soap and paint—fil ed her head.

“It is selfish,” he said into her hair. “God, help me.”

“And me as wel .”

His grip grew so tight Cam felt her breath gather in her chest. It was as if he were trying to hold the seconds time was tearing from them.

“We cannot stop them,” she whispered. “The moments wil go. But we can master them. We can hold each in our arms until it surrenders itself to us.”

“Surrender to me.” He pul ed her onto the couch and spread her across his lap. “I want to paint you.”

“Here?” She brushed his cheek and saw her hand was trembling.

“No. There isn’t time. Later. And often. And forever. But to do that I need to see you, to memorize you, to possess you with every sense.”

She squirmed. He was granite beneath her. “How?”

“Your hair,” he said. “Let me unpin it.”

She bowed her head slightly, and he inhaled. With a gentle tug, the first pin slid free. The curl tumbled down her shoulder, almost to her breast.

“Oh God.”

Rocking her gently, he removed the second, third and fourth. Cam felt goose bumps pop as the silky weight tickled her skin.

“Breathtaking,” he said. “Rust and paprika and umber and even rich Kentish loam—al filtered through bars of heavenly gold. May I?”

She nodded, and he drew his hands through the waves, scattering them like rays of sunlight.

“Oh Christ, how I have wanted this.” He fumbled under her skirt and found his buckle. The clack-clack as he loosened it made her bel y contract. When he’d lowered his trousers, he lifted her effortlessly, slid her panties aside and entered her.

She came down slowly, savoring the iron press of him.

He was bigger even than she’d remembered. The slightest movement brought an exquisite heat that reached almost to her throat. He dandled her slowly, drawing his luminous gaze over her body, and her skirt sizzled as its slippery weight resettled again and again over his hips.

He grazed his palms over her