“Don't,” she says without looking at me, and for some reason, this hurts me deeper than I expect. Looking away, I am suddenly not sure what I am feeling for Lila. As if sensing my confusion, she turns back and meets my eye again. “You are precious to me, darling, but there can never be anything deeper between us.” Standing up, I go to her and take her face in my hands. She doesn’t pull away making my determination to finish what I need to say stronger.
“Lila, I’m honestly not sure what I am feeling, but don’t try to sweep whatever might be starting between us away. We have something special.”
Lila pulls her face away and turns her back to me. “Please don’t say that. I can’t …”
“I know about your doctor, the one you lost, who you loved so much. Look at me. I am not her.”
Lila doesn't move for a long time, but I am patient. Always patient, with her especially. Finally, she turns around, and I see the wetness of tears on her cheeks. “I know you're not. I promise. I just don't trust this, fate I mean.” She wipes at her eyes and walks closer. “Make love to me, Jael. I can't handle the rest, but I need to feel you.”
Not even for a moment do I consider saying no. Pressing her to examine us now is not the answer. Instead, I will show her I am not going anywhere. Moving in, I lean down to touch my lips to hers. Gentle, almost tender, but in an instant, I realize she is hungry for me, and the passion between us leaps from a smolder to a flame in seconds. Even after only our short time together, I know what she likes, and as she parts her lips to let me take her mouth, my hands go to her blouse. Starting to finger the buttons to undo them, there is suddenly a different need inside me. If Lila can’t admit something is happening between us, perhaps I can make her feel it enough there will be no denying our connection. With a quick movement, I rip her blouse open, buttons scattering. She gasps into my mouth, but I hold the kiss while I reach behind her to unfasten her soft, pink, lace bra.
She breaks away, breathless, and reaches for my belt. “I want you to fuck me, right here,” she murmurs against my lips. “Until I scream.”
We are of precisely the same mind, and as soon as my belt is open and pants unbuttoned, I press her onto the couch with enough force she lets out a cry of surprise. Nothing will stop me from taking her now. When I look into her eyes as I push up her skirt, I see she knows it too. And it excites her. Like with the scarves, she wants to be dominated. Taken. Fucked. I don't even bother to pull down her panties, but instead, push them aside to slide two fingers into her. Her wetness, already making her slippery, lets me know I am giving her exactly what she wants.
Taking her invitation, I push hard, going deep quickly, and she sucks in a breath. Normally I would ask if she is okay, but not now. Not after she has denied what we have is special. Suddenly I realize a part of me wants to overwhelm her, almost punish her for not listening, and I hesitate. This is not how I treat a woman, especially not the woman I care so much for and yet… “Is this what you want?” I growl as I slide out and then in, deeper, harder. “Is this all you need from me?” She doesn't answer, and a hint of anger blooms. I stroke her harder, now with three fingers. She is tight around me but squirms with pleasure under my touch.
“Answer me,” I say unable to hide the bit of hurt and anger in my voice while I drive into her again, now moving faster. Her body grips my fingers, but she is also slippery with desire. As I keep going, she starts to buck her hips to meet my thrusts. With my thumb, I slide over her clit, and she whimpers. It is not enough. I grab her wrists and push her arms over her head. They press against the end of the couch, and with my weight on top of her, she is trapped. “Is this all you want from me?” She only clamps her eyes shut and shivers with excitement under me. My hand inside her is moving hard, in and out of her. When I touch her clit with my thumb again, I feel how ready it is, how turned on she is at my touch. But it is not enough. She needs to see me as more than a throw-away lover. “Am I only here to fuck you?”
I watch her bite her lip. She is conflicted, I know it. I feel it in my heart. This woman does care for me at her core but is afraid. Her walls start to tighten around my sliding fingers, and she is close. Almost to the crest of an orgasm. I want to give it to her, but then I don't. Not yet. Pulling out, I press against her with my body to control the rise and fall of her hips. “Admit it.,” I insist. “Tell me we have something, and then I will make you come.”
Suddenly her body stills, and I realize I have gone too far. Too intense. Too insistent. Lifting off her, I see there are fresh tears. “God, I’m sorry,” I apologize saying anything to try and fix this. She covers her breasts with her arm and sits up pushing me back even further.
“I can’t be what you need me to be,” she declares again standing. “I think you should sleep in your own room tonight.”
My heart is truly breaking. I have been so stupid. So impatient. Watching her walk away, I only blame myself. She is not ready to accept what I think I am feeling, and I realize, maybe she never will be.
27
Madison’s sailboat, Water’s Edge, is impressive. Thirty-five feet long and the sleek lines make me confident the craft can go fast if necessary. I personally hope that fact is not something we will need to test. As I stand at the rail and watch us cut through the gray-blue water of Los Angeles Harbor, I want nothing but a simple, uneventful ceremony on the deck. Just two people who clearly love one another committing to each other for life. A small tug at my heart takes me back to my mistake last night. I respected Lila’s wishes and slept in my own room thinking we could talk this morning. Unfortunately, my ‘good morning’ received nothing but a nod. So far, Lila's kept up a cold shoulder, and we've hardly spoken. The limousine ride to the marina was awkward as she wouldn't even meet my eye, let alone let me take her hand.
The divide between us is even more frustrating as I consider what might happen after this wedding. It was never my intention to push her to make her move faster about us than she felt comfortable. Yet, that was precisely what I did, and if this is the end for us, if she asks that I be reassigned after this, I will never forgive myself. All I can hope is once the events are over, I can convince her to speak with me privately. If we could sit somewhere alone, perhaps I could fix this mess I’ve made of things.
Shaking my head, I know this is not the time to be distracted. We are quickly moving toward the open sea. Madison and Claire are below deck in separate rooms getting ready. Lila is with Claire, and Kris is with Madison. The decision to have Kris officiate had been a hard one to make. It seems unlikely Georgia DeLane would guess Kris is part of the Lesbian Billionaires Club. Frankly, she looks the least billionaire-like of the group, in my opinion. Still, we might be giving our adversary another piece of the puzzle. It seems unavoidable. Someone who knows the stakes needs to be here with Madison today. On the final conference call with the club, it was unanimously voted the shy and awkward computer mogul be the one.
With a sigh at the complexity of it all, I turn from watching the ocean roll by and look at the horizon. We are on a long trajectory to end up at Catalina Island, where the reception will be held at the beautiful city of Avalon. So far, there is no sign of any boats, not to mention one with Georgia on it. I know Madison worked with both her own security team and the Coast Guard to keep the lane clear for an hour while we make our way to the island. They are also standing by at a distance out of sight in case we find ourselves under duress. There is no telling what Georgia is planning. Trusting her is last on my list.