by Erika Wilde
By the time he finished with his plans and other work, it was early afternoon, and it dawned on him that the house was awfully quiet. The silence was something he’d grown used to over the years, but he hadn’t heard any noises from Natalie, which concerned him.
Exiting his office, he headed down the hall to the empty living room. He checked upstairs and the kitchen, but didn’t find Natalie anywhere. His heart thumped hard in his chest, and he was just about to holler her name when he happened to glance out the slider leading to the backyard and saw her reclining on a padded lounge chair on the patio, basking in the golden rays of sunshine filtering through the overhead lattice covering. Her head was bent as she read the textbook opened on her lap, and she’d hiked up the hem of her dress to her thighs to allow the sun to warm her long, bare legs. She looked so peaceful and content, and his heart gave a tug of longing he couldn’t ignore.
As he watched, she tucked her loose hair behind her ear and reached into the bowl sitting on a small table next to her chair and withdrew an Oreo cookie. She twisted the two sides apart and scraped the cream filling off with her teeth, then popped the chocolate wafers into her mouth, one at a time, and chewed. Then she licked her fingers for any lingering crumbs.
Smiling at her blissful enjoyment of the treat, he opened the screen door and stepped outside. Startled by his sudden appearance, she glanced up at him with an impish smile at being caught indulging in such a childish ritual.
“How long have you been standing there watching me?” she asked, a gentle accusation threading her tone.
“Not long. I was just on the way to the kitchen for a snack myself,” he said as an excuse for spying on her. “Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all.” She snapped the thick book shut but left it on her lap. “I’d love the company—and the break from studying.”
He settled himself into a lawn chair next to her chaise. Confiscating a cookie for himself from her bowl, he ate it the manly way—in one big bite. “I’ve got some good news for you. I talked to Murphy and he said you can come back to work Thursday evening from six to nine, and you can gradually ease back into longer hours from there.”
Warmth shone in her gaze. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
He filched another cookie and said very casually, “I also wanted to let you know that I have some work plans for Wednesday that will take me out of town for the day.”
Her brows lifted in mild surprise. “Oh?”
“I hope you don’t mind, but I spoke with Melodie, and she’s going for her last fitting for her wedding dress on that day and said she’d love to have you along for company.”
A grin quirked the corner of her mouth. “That sounds like fun, even though I do realize you’re making sure I’m not home alone for the day while you’re gone.”
“You’re absolutely right,” he said, unable to deny the obvious, then changed the subject before she asked what kind of work was taking him out of town. “So, what are you reading?” he asked curiously.
She stretched her legs and wiggled her toes. “One of my college psychobabble books.”
Not sure what she meant, he inclined his head questioningly.
“That’s what Murphy calls them.” She shook her head, sending her silky hair swaying across her shoulders, and laughed lightly. “I’m amazed at some of the silliest things I remember.”
“Do you remember your classes and what you’re studying?” he prompted, treading carefully with his inquiry, wanting to learn as much as he could without her feeling as though he was interrogating her.
“Surprisingly, I do.” She smoothed a hand over the glossy cover of her book, then glanced back at him with a smile. “I’m majoring in social work and I know I want to be a counselor to help troubled kids, specifically foster children.”
“Which is a very admirable cause,” he said, meaning it. And her kind, gentle, and caring demeanor made her a perfect candidate for the job.
She shrugged off his compliment. “I’ve been there before, so I can relate to kids who are part of the system and don’t feel as though they have a place where they belong.”
“Is that how you felt growing up?” he asked, genuinely interested in her past, in anything that would give him better insight to her.
Natalie leaned her head back against the cushioned lounge chair and stared out at the landscaped backyard as she considered Noah’s question, which stirred up a wealth of emotions and obscure memories that gradually became clearer in her mind.
She returned her gaze to his and tried her best to explain what her childhood had been like. What she remembered, anyways. “It wasn’t easy being shuffled from one home to another. It seemed just when I’d finally feel secure, something would happen and I’d get sent to another home with another set of strangers as my foster family and I’d have to start all over again. After a while, you try not to get attached to the people you’re living with, which makes the process less painful.”
Compassion deepened the blue hue of his eyes. “I can imagine what you went through—I felt that way when my parents divorced, then passed away,” he said. “What was the longest amount of time you spent with a foster family?”
She thought back, waiting while obscure recollections crystalized. “Two years, during the time I was sixteen to eighteen years old, and then from there I was on my own.”
As she spoke, she caught a quick glimpse of a blond-haired teenager, and remembered him as the son of the couple she’d been living with during those last two years. More fragmented scenes projected in her mind, throwing her off kilter with recollections of fending off his advances and hating that she had such large breasts and a figure that attracted too much attention from the opposite sex.
Strangely, that memory contradicted the desire she felt so intensely with Noah. The need that was physical as much as it was emotional.
Another male face flashed in the dim recesses of her mind, but this obscure recollection came with an ominous, intimidating feeling that made her shiver. Unable to pinpoint the source of the threat, or place who the man was, she frowned and closed her eyes, trying to bring the mental image into better focus. Instead of a clearer vision, her head spun and her temples pounded with the effort of forcing memories to the surface.
“Natalie?”
Warm fingers touched her arm, startling her out of her trance. Blinking her eyes open, she glanced at Noah, who was watching her intently. Unable to put into words what her mind couldn’t even process, she decided to keep the haunting memories to herself for the time being.
“I’m sorry. I got distracted.” She sighed, not wanting to talk about her past with Noah anymore, not until she had a chance to dissect her unsettling thoughts and make sense of them. “I’ve had enough sunshine and fresh air for the day, and I think I could use a nap.”
He nodded his agreement, as she knew he would. “Good idea.”
She headed upstairs while Noah returned to his office, but instead of sleeping she tossed and turned in his big bed, trying to resolve those old insecurities about her appearance with the uninhibited way she felt with Noah. Just the thought of him aroused her, and she closed her eyes and buried her face in his pillow. She inhaled slowly and deeply, surrounding herself with the musky, male scent of him, which intensified the growing hunger to know him again in the most intimate sense.
After an hour of fitful rest, she finally got back up again. Feeling mentally and physically restless and unable to shake the sensation, she headed into the bathroom and brushed her disheveled hair before heading back downstairs. Catching sight of the small white bandage on her cheek, she decided to clean her cut and apply a fresh dose of antibiotic cream.
She carefully peeled the old bandage off with a wince and swabbed the small gash with peroxide, then opened the medicine cabinet to look for the tube of Neosporin. An assortment of male toiletries lined the shelves, and she sighed. Other than a few feminine items, nothing looked familiar—not the can of shaving gel, men’s deodorant and after
shave, or the box of condoms sitting on the bottom shelf.
Condoms? She jerked her gaze back to the latter item and frowned. Hadn’t Noah told her just last night that he didn’t have any protection, so they couldn’t have sex? Certain the box had to be empty, she picked it up and looked inside, only to find it filled with at least a half-dozen foil packets.
Confusion trickled through her, which was quickly replaced by a surge of anger. Dammit, why did Noah feel as though he had to shelter and protect her, even from sex, when the last thing she wanted was to be coddled and treated like a helpless, delicate female who couldn’t handle intimate physical contact?
Noah thought he knew what was best for her, but he didn’t have a clue. Her body and soul craved him in an overwhelming, compelling way that wouldn’t go away until she had him. Maybe not even then.
Jumping on the opportunity that had just presented itself, she withdrew a sealed packet. She would confront him with the evidence she’d found and demand an explanation for his refusal to make love to her.
And this time, armed with a condom, she wasn’t taking no for an answer.
CHAPTER TEN
Noah was so engrossed in work and his research on his laptop that he didn’t hear or see Natalie enter his office until a small square packet dropped right on top of his keyboard. It took him a few seconds to recognize what had landed at his fingertips, but once the knowledge sank in, his stomach gave a sharp twist of dread.
Reluctantly, he glanced up and found Natalie standing on the other side of his desk, hands on her slender hips, her eyes blazing accusation, and her expression pinched with impatience.
He inwardly cringed. Oh, man, was he ever in trouble.
“What happened to the bandage on your cheek?” he asked in a quick attempt to deflect the attention off of him.
Her narrowed gaze told him she wasn’t about to fall for his switch in topic. “I don’t give a damn about my cheek at the moment. I’d rather you explain that.” She pointed a finger at the wrapped condom so there would be no doubt in his mind about what she was referring to.
Very calmly, he picked up the incriminating evidence and turned it over in his fingers, taking a long, drawn-out moment to examine it and buy himself some extra time. “Well, I have to say that it looks like a condom to me.”
“Don’t be a smart-ass, Noah,” she said irritably, and pinned him with a direct look. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. I can see for myself that it’s a condom. What I want to know is why you lied about having any in the house.”
He leaned back in his chair and affected a casual shrug. Ignoring the hurt and confusion in her eyes was a tad more difficult. “Because I don’t think you’re ready for that yet.”
Soft, dry laughter escaped her. “Don’t you think that’s a decision I can make for myself?”
Feeling uneasy at the direction this conversation was taking, he closed his internet browser and stood. “You have amnesia, sweetheart, so I’m trying to make the decision easier for you, and I think you need time to recuperate from the accident first.” God, his excuse sounded lame and insubstantial even to his own ears.
“And how long do you think I need until I can handle having sex with you? A week? A month? A year?” She rounded the desk and boldly maneuvered herself between him and his desk so that they were aligned from chests to thighs, forcing him to acknowledge her and their sizzling attraction.
As if he could ignore it.
That quick, his dick grew hard and stiff with wanting her, his erection fitting perfectly at the crux of her thighs. Her fiery mood and determination turned him on, and he knew he had to do something fast or he’d succumb to her seductive scheme. Just as he attempted to take a safe step away from her for much-needed space, she grabbed his shirt and held him in place.
She rose up on her toes, putting her mouth inches below his. “I want you so badly, Noah, I ache with it.” She lowered her lashes and nipped lightly at his jaw, then used her soft tongue to soothe the love bite. “Stop treating me like a fragile piece of glass. I swear I won’t break.”
Bracing his hands on either side of her hips on the desk to keep from touching her, he shuddered and groaned, holding fast to his dwindling resolve. “Natalie—”
“Don’t tell me no.” The plea was heartfelt and brimmed with a wealth of emotion as her lips traveled up to his ear. “I need the closeness and intimacy of making love with you. I might have lost parts of my memory, but not my desire for you. That’s stronger than ever.”
Noah squeezed his eyes shut as he battled between right and wrong. The words she’d just spoken were so honest, saying so much about her feelings for him—that while she’d turned him down for nine months, her indifference had been a ruse. She’d wanted him, too, and without those memories of keeping her distance, she was allowing her emotions and passions to run wild and free.
Seemingly taking his silence as acquiescence, she pulled his shirt from the waistband of his jeans, shoved it up and over his head and tossed it to the floor at their feet. She flattened her palms on his bare chest, and her breathing deepened as she caressed his taut, heated flesh and strummed her fingers down to the muscles flexing in his abdomen.
Arousal surged through his bloodstream and arrowed straight to his groin. His erection pulsed against the fly of his snug jeans, making a mockery of the release he’d given himself that morning in the shower.
Bolder still, she dragged her tongue along the shell of his ear, then dipped inside. “I’m wet with the thought of having you deep inside of me, Noah,” she said huskily, and lifted one of her legs high along his thigh so that she could rub herself against his erection. “Touch me and you’ll see for yourself.”
His fingers curled into tight fists against the hardwood desk as he fought the temptation to obey her request.
She gave him no choice. Grabbing his wrist, she slid his hand under the hem of her dress and up her smooth thigh, then pressed his fingers against the damp panel of cotton covering her mound. “Oh, yes,” she breathed, a pleased, dreamy smile tipping the corner of her mouth.
He swallowed hard, which did nothing to calm the chaotic buzz of lust and need clamoring inside him. She was so damned brazen and sensual, her feminine confidence affecting him on a purely masculine level that made him want to drive into her, hard and fast and deep. She trusted him to take her body, to give her the physical intimacy she craved. He could see the certainty in her eyes, her expression beckoning him to fulfill every one of her sexual fantasies.
And he knew at that moment that he wouldn’t be able to refuse her this time—wouldn’t be able to refuse himself, no matter how wrong it might be to give and take this pleasure from her. Her memory might be skewed, but her desire for him was very real. And that’s all he needed to know to assuage his own misgivings and set his hunger for her free.
Without warning, he lowered his head, crushed his lips to hers, and swallowed her gasp of surprise. It took her only a handful of seconds to respond to his greedy kiss, to welcome the thrust of his tongue into the silky, heated depths of her mouth. As they both indulged in the rough, delicious embrace, he knew there would be nothing slow, romantic or easy about this first joining. And she didn’t seem to want that, either.
Without breaking their kiss, he grasped her waist in his hands and lifted her up onto the surface, heedless of the cramped space because of his desk cluttered with his laptop computer and other office paraphernalia. They wouldn’t need much room for what he had in mind.
With his mouth, lips, and tongue consuming hers, he shoved the skirt of her dress up to her hips and out of the way. He pushed her knees apart, spreading her legs so that he fit in between and his throbbing erection nestled at the heart of her femininity. She locked her feet against the back of his hardened thighs to hold him in place, and gyrated her hips in a slow, circular motion. He felt the heat and dewy moisture from her panties saturating through the denim of his jeans, and he growled at the raw, untamed sensation that ripped through him
.
Abruptly, she ended the kiss and leaned back, bracing her hands on the desk behind her. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she panted for breath, and her eyes were heavy lidded with arousal, the irises a sultry shade of blue. “Open the front of my dress, Noah,” she whispered invitingly. “I want your mouth on my breasts.”
He didn’t hesitate, and immediately tackled the buttons that kept her so modestly covered. Once the blouse portion of her dress was undone, he spread the sides open wide. Leaning forward, he lavished kisses over the soft swells of her breasts overflowing her bra and dipped his tongue along the deep cleavage in between.
She shivered and reverently whispered his name.
Wanting her upper body naked, he pulled the dress and straps of her bra off her shoulders and down her arms until her breasts were bared and the bunched material tightened at the crease of her elbow. She shifted, trying to lift her hands from the desk so that she could slip out of the sleeves, but he stopped her before she could follow through on her intent.
“Don’t move,” he ordered, liking the way her current position kept him in total control. “I want you to keep your hands right where they are.”
Excitement glowed in her gaze and her skin flushed in anticipation. Burying a hand into her thick hair, he tangled his fingers through the soft strands and tugged her head back so that her slender throat was completely exposed to him. Driven by something primitive and possessive that overruled his common sense, he placed his open mouth on her arched neck and grazed his tongue across her delicate skin. He found a particularly sensitive spot that made her shiver and drew that tender flesh between his teeth. He nipped and suckled, and did something he’d never, ever done to any other woman—he marked Natalie as his.
She gasped and arched into him as he bit her neck, and he felt her tight nipples stab against his chest, demanding their own fair share of attention. His free hand molded to one full, straining breast, and his thumb and forefinger closed over the pearled tip and tugged, hard enough to make her suck in a swift, startled breath of air.
