Desire Never Changes

Somer closed her eyes in mute agony at the first brush of his tongue against her nipple, waves of shame coursing through her at the first wanton stirrings of response springing to life inside her. This was something she had not bargained for. She wanted to lose her virginity but she had never dreamed she would feel like this; that she would experience this stomach-twisting, yearning need to arch blindly beneath the rough lash of his tongue; to capture his dark head and hold it against her breast, savouring the pleasure that was almost pain as his tongue ceased its torment and his lips took its place tugging gently until she was lost in a feverish surge of pleasure that breached every virginal defence.

‘Later,’ Chase muttered as he released her breast and lifted himself away from her. ‘I’ve got work to do. Remember?’

Flushed and feverish, aching with tormenting desire So-mer could only stare up at him, appalled by what was happening to her. She had desired Andrew of course, but that desire was a tepid, insignificant emotion when compared with what she had just experienced. The hot sun heated her skin as Chase drew away, and far from wanting to cover her breasts any more, Somer admitted that she wanted him to look at her; to desire her; to touch her and kiss her until she felt that pulsing, jerky pleasure pound through her body.

‘Don’t look at me like that,’ Chase warned huskily, his voice intruding on her private daydream. ‘You look like an innocent girl who’s just discovered the magic of sex and wants to learn more. Much, much more.’

‘I am and I do.’ The admission hovered on her lips only to be forced back. What good would it do now to admit that she was a virgin? Chase would probably turn from her in disgust just as Andrew had done. Scarcely admitted, but there at the back of her mind was the knowledge that she no longer wanted him to make love to her simply because she wanted to rid herself of the burden of her virginity. She wanted him as well. As Chase moved away she arched seductively back on her towel, knowing with some deep feminine instinct that his eyes would be drawn to the full curves of her breasts still taut from his lovemaking. As he started to turn away she ran her hand lightly up over her body, her eyes slumberous and heavy with desire.

‘Try and tempt me, would you?’ Chase growled. ‘Well, there’s a cure for that.’

Before she could stop him he scooped her up in his arms, striding out into the sea with her, until he was standing chest high in the waves.

Somer shrieked protestingly as he let her go, startled by the impact of the cold sea water against her skin, but swimming away as agilely as an eel once she had recovered from the shock. She had learned to swim almost before she could walk and was used to the cold water of the North Sea. As she swam away Chase came after her, grabbing her ankle and tugging her down below the water, following her up to the surface, his hands grasping her waist as he pulled her hard against him, stroking her mouth with his tongue. ‘Mmm. You taste of salt.’

‘So do you,’ Somer responded daringly, letting her own tongue repeat the caress and then breaking away to swim back to the shore. Chase didn’t follow her, and gradually as she watched him Somer felt her pulse-rate subside to normal.

He followed her on to the beach five minutes later, and lay down beside her on his towel, letting the sun dry the moisture from his skin, but not making any move to touch her.

Suddenly sleepy after the physical exercise and mental strain of the morning Somer rolled over on to her stomach, burying her face in her hands. Gradually she felt the tension easing out of her body. She closed her eyes, dimly aware of firm sure hands moving over her back, inducing a delicious sensation of lethargy that made her want to stretch and curl her body like a small cat, but before she could do so sleep claimed her.

Finishing his self-imposed task Chase Lorimer studied the female form stretched out beside him. Very, very enticing; there had been a moment earlier on when he had come dangerously close to losing his self-control. He had thought the first time he saw her in the lift that she was still a child, shy and nervous. How wrong he had been! He grimaced faintly to himself. He ought to be used to it by now; after all she wouldn’t be the first female to pick him up thinking she was taking the first step up the ladder to becoming a top model. A touch of contempt darkened his eyes, his expression faintly bleak. Funny, but this time it really hurt.

Shrugging mentally he got to his feet, telling himself sardonically that he was a fool to let himself get involved, but he knew he wanted her; against all logic and common sense maybe, but still he wanted her. But before he took her he would lay it on the line for her, tell her that no way was making love with him the equivalent of the modelling world’s casting couch. He frowned as he glanced down at her. Lying like that with her head pillowed in her arms she looked like a child, innocent, untouched. He grimaced faintly. He was getting far too sentimental, surely life with Laura had taught him that. He had believed himself in love with her and her with him, but all she had wanted was to use him. She had laughed at him when he proposed marriage, and inflicted a painful blow to his twenty-two-year-old ego, but the tables were turned now; now that she was a fading star, a model who was finding it more and more difficult to get assignments, who needed all the tricks a clever photographer could use to preserve the illusion of youth; who at thirty betrayed in her face the way she had lived—and loved, if you could call the casual sexual encounters she indulged in, that. Now Laura wanted to marry him, especially now that she knew that he was his uncle’s heir, but he wasn’t twenty-two any longer; he had grown older and wiser; there had been far too many Lauras in his life for him to be deceived.

As he glanced down at Somer again his eyes were tinged with sadness and a hint of self-contempt, and here was another. A potential Laura, young enough to have the bloom still on her skin and the illusion of innocence but in reality…Picking up his equipment he headed for one end of the beach and soon became engrossed in his self-imposed task, glancing up only once to stare at the sleeping figure.

CHAPTER THREE

IT WAS the chink of a bottle against glass that brought Somer out of her light sleep, her eyes hazy with uncertainty. The sun was hot on her bare shoulders, its angle in the sky telling her how long she had slept—payment for her inability to do so properly last night.

‘Good, you’re awake, I was just thinking I would have to eat my lunch alone. Are you hungry?’

A picnic hamper was open on a towel next to him, and Somer peered into it, trying to suppress the agitation prickling her skin. Had she been completely mad? she wondered muzzily. Had she really intended to…to seduce this dark, arrogant stranger into making love to her? She jumped when Chase reached across and touched her shoulder, his eyebrows drawn together in a frown.

‘You’re not suffering from sunstroke, are you?’ he queried, letting his fingers absorb the heat from her skin. ‘I did cream your back for you but you have been lying there for a couple of hours.’

‘I’m feeling fine,’ she lied brazenly, bending her head over the wicker basket so that he couldn’t see the faint tell-tale flush on her skin. ‘I just couldn’t remember where I was when I first woke up.’

‘Or who you were with,’ Chase supplemented drily, ‘but then I suppose you’re used to that. Pass me something to eat, will you, while I pour the wine.’

Two plates of chicken salad were attractively arranged under a protective film, and investigating the basket further Somer discovered crusty French bread, salmon paˆte´, and some Brie. In one corner of the basket were peaches and grapes, and the appetite she had lacked earlier suddenly made her feel quite hungry. She handed Chase his plate, trying not to recoil from the brief brush of his fingers against hers.

‘More wine?’

Somer glanced into her glass surprised to see that she had almost drained it.

‘Please.’ She was thirsty and besides wasn’t alcohol supposed to have a relaxing effect on the nervous system?

They ate in silence with Somer stealing brief, nervous glances at Chase’s inscrutable face, her eyes sliding against her will to the broad expanse of his chest with its fine covering of dark hair, and lower, almost hypnotised by that same arrowing of hair over his body.

As he bent to replenish her glass for the third time Chase mocked softly, ‘You’re looking at me as though I’m the first man you’ve ever seen, and it’s having a highly combustible effect on my nervous system.’

‘I wasn’t looking at you, I was thinking,’ Somer lied protestingly, hanging her head so that he wouldn’t see her betraying blush.

‘About touching me instead of merely looking at me,’ Chase agreed. ‘You were looking at me like a little girl let loose inside a toyshop.’

‘I’ve told you I was miles away,’ Somer protested hotly. ‘I’m sorry if you thought I was staring at you…’

‘Why get so het up about it? I’m flattered. Or isn’t that part of the game? Does the man have to let you know how hungry he is for you before you’ll deign to admit you want him in return?’

Somer could only stammer, ‘No…I…I don’t want you.’

‘No?’ Just for a second she had a brief glimpse of something fiercely bitter burning in the depths of his eyes and then it was caged, his voice urbanely amused as he reached out and stroked his thumb across her chin. ‘Peach juice,’ he murmured when she shied away. His fingers curled along her jaw holding her captive, and Somer felt her breath explode in a tight knot inside her chest as he bent his head, his tongue touching her skin as he licked away the small trickle of juice.

Every nerve in her body seemed to lock, and yet at the same time a wild fluttery excitement pulsed through her, her dazed eyes holding the impenetrable gaze of the dark green ones now close enough for her to see their tiny gold specks like a dusting of gold in jade malachite.

A dizzying sensation swept through her and she clutched automatically at Chase’s arm to prevent herself from overbalancing. Beneath her fingers his muscles tensed and then relaxed, his maurauding tongue stroking hypnotically along the tremulous line of her mouth.