Susan Stephens - Taming the Last Acosta

‘There’s no such word as can’t ,’ he whispered.

Incredibly, he was right. It didn’t seem possible that she had anything left, but when Kruz stared deep into her eyes it was as if he was instructing her that she must give herself up to sensation. There was no reason to disobey and she tumbled promptly, laughing and crying with surprise as she fell again.

It turned out to be just the start of her lessons in advanced lovemaking. Pressing her knees back, Kruz stared down. Now she discovered that she loved to watch him watching her. Lifting herself up, she folded her arms behind her head so she had a better view. Nothing existed outside this extreme pleasure. Kruz had placed himself at her disposal, and to reward him she pressed her legs as wide as they would go. He demanded all her concentration as he worked steadily and effectively on the task in hand.

‘You really should try holding on once in a while,’ he said, smiling against her mouth.

‘Why?’ she whispered back.

‘Try it and you’ll find out,’ he said.

‘Will you teach me?’ Her heart drummed at the thought.

‘Perhaps,’ Kruz murmured.

He wasn’t joking, Romy discovered as Kruz led her through a lengthy session of tease and withdraw until her body was screaming for release.

‘Greedy girl,’ he murmured with approval. ‘Again?’ he suggested, when finally he allowed her to let go.

Bracing her hands against his chest, she smiled into his eyes. For a hectic hook-up this was turning into a lengthy encounter, and she hadn’t got a single complaint. Kruz was addictive. The pleasure he conjured was amazing. But—

‘What?’ he said as she turned her head away from him.

‘Nothing.’ She dismissed the niggle hiding deep in her subconscious.

‘You think too much,’ he said.

‘Agreed,’ she replied, dragging in a fast breath as he began to move again.

Kruz didn’t need to ask if she wanted more; the answer was obvious to both of them. Gripping his iron buttocks, she urged him on as he set up a drugging beat. Tightening her legs around his waist, she moved with him—harder—faster—giving as good as she got, and through it all Kruz maintained eye contact, which was probably the biggest turn-on of all, because he could see where she was so quickly going. Holding her firmly in place, he kept her in position beneath him, and when the storm rose he judged each thrust to perfection. Pushing her knees apart, he made sure they both had an excellent view, and now even he was unable to hold on, and roared with pleasure as he gave in to violent release.

She went with him, falling gratefully into a vortex of sensation from which there was no escape. It was only when she came to that she realised fantasy had in no way prepared her for reality—her fantasies were wholly selfish, and Kruz had woken something inside her that made her care for him just a little bit. It was a shame he didn’t feel the same. Now he was sated she sensed a core of ice growing around him. It frightened her, because she was feeling emotional for the first time with a man. And now he was pulling back—emotionally, physically.

No wonder that niggle of unease had gripped her, Romy reflected. She was playing well out of her league. As if to prove this, Kruz was already on his feet, pulling on his clothes. He buckled his belt as if it were just another day at the office. She might have laughed under other circumstances when he was forced to tug the edges of his shirt together where she had ripped the buttons off. He did no more than hide the evidence of her desperation beneath his tie. How could he be so chillingly unfazed by all this? Her unease grew at the thought that what had just happened between them had made a dangerously strong impression on her, while it appeared to have washed over Kruz.

And why not? What happened was freely given and freely taken by both of you.

‘Are you okay?’ he said, glancing down when she remained immobile.

‘Of course I am,’ she said in a casual tone. Inwardly she was screaming. Was she really so stupid she had imagined she would come out of something like this unscathed?

Even inward reasoning didn’t help—she was still waiting for him to say something encouraging. How pathetic was that? She had never felt like this before, and had no way of dealing with the feelings, so, gathering up her clothes, she lost herself in mundane matters—shaking the grass off her jacket, pulling on her jeans, sorting her hair out, then smoothing her hands over her face, hoping that by the time she removed them she would appear cool and detached.

Wrong. She felt as if she’d come out the wrong end of a spin dry.

Her thoughts turned at last to her camera. It was still lying on the bank, temptingly close. She had learned her lesson where lunging for it was concerned, but felt confident that Kruz would give it to her now. It was the least he could do.

Fortunately Kruz appeared to be oblivious both to her and to her camera. He was on the phone, telling his security operatives that he was patrolling the grounds.

She eased her neck, as if that would ease the other aches, most of which had taken up residence in her heart.

Hadn’t she learned anything from the past? Had Kruz made her forget her father’s rages and her mother’s dependency on a violent man?

Kruz hadn’t been in any way violent towards her—but he was strong, commanding, and detached from emotion. All the things she had learned to avoid.

She was safe in that, unlike her mother, she had learned to avoid the pitfalls of attachment by switching off her emotions. In that she wasn’t so dissimilar from Kruz. This was just a brief interlude of fun for both of them and now it was over. Neither of them was capable of love.

Love?

He swung round as she made a wry sound. Love was a long road to nowhere, with a punch in the teeth at the end. So, yes, if she was in any doubt at all about the protocol between two strangers who’d just had sex on a grassy bank, she’d go with cool and detached every time.

‘Right,’ he said, ending the call, ‘I need to get back.’

‘Of course,’ she said off-handedly. ‘But I’d like my camera first.’

He frowned, as if they were two strangers at odds with each other. ‘You’ve had your fun and now you’re on your way,’ he said.

She’d asked for that, Romy concluded. ‘Well, I’m not going anywhere without it,’ she said stubbornly. It was true. The camera was more than a tool of her trade, it was a fifth limb. It was an extension of her body, of her mind. It was the only way she knew how to make the money she needed to support herself and her mother.

‘I’ve told you already. You’ll get it back when I’ve checked it,’ he said coldly, hoisting the camera over his shoulder.

‘You’re my censor now?’ she said, chasing after him. ‘I don’t think so.’

The look Kruz gave her made her stomach clench with alarm.

‘You can sleep in the bunkhouse,’ he said, ‘along with the rest of the press crew. Pick up your camera in the morning from my staff.’

She blinked. He’d said it as if they hadn’t touched each other, pleasured each other.

They’d had sex and that was all.

Except for the slap in the face she got from realising that he saw it as no reason to give up her camera. ‘By morning it will be too late—I need it now.’

‘For what?’ he said.

‘I have to edit the photographs and then catch the news desk.’ It was a lie of desperation, but she would do anything to recover her camera. ‘There is another reason,’ she added, waiting for a thunderclap to strike her down. This idea had only just occurred to her. ‘I need to work on the shots I’m donating to your charity.’

As if he’d guessed, Kruz’s eyes narrowed. ‘The Acosta charity?’