Harlequin Desire June 2020 - Box Set 2 of 2

by Karen Booth

Yet with Ivy, he knew all those urges. “I don’t know what this is,” he admitted. “Do we have to name it? Analyze it?”

  She sipped her drink carefully, and when she set down her cup, she had a rim of marshmallow residue around her lips.

  Before Farrell could think it through, he leaned forward and licked away the sweetness. “You’re welcome,” he said huskily.

  Her eyes widened. “I didn’t understand you at first. I thought you were a serious scientist devoted to his work. But you’re really a renegade, aren’t you? A hedonist. A rascal.”

  Farrell gave her a lazy smile. “Isn’t it possible to be all those things? Can’t I want to sleep with a fascinating woman in my spare time?”

  She reached out and covered one of his hands with hers. Her smile was shy. “I hope there won’t be much sleeping involved. Surely we can do better than that.”

  His heart rate jumped. He twined his fingers with hers. “Don’t toy with me, woman. I need an unambiguous answer. Do you want to go to bed with me? Here? Tonight?”

  “I do. Rainy nights always make my imagination run wild. But we’d better get a move on, because you-know-who wakes up early.”

  Farrell followed her into the bedroom. He was as hard as his surname already, and he wondered if he had it in him to be gentle with her. But he must. Ivy had known too much male aggression in her short life.

  As they stood beside the bed, he saw her confidence falter.

  “Don’t be afraid of me, Ivy.”

  “I’m not.” She gnawed her lower lip. “I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed in me. Richard messed up my head. I have a million hang-ups about my body. And I haven’t ever…”

  She trailed off, her expression anxious.

  Farrell took her hand. “You haven’t had sex with anyone other than your husband?”

  “No.” The single syllable encompassed misery and embarrassment.

  “Then here are the ground rules,” he said. “It’s only the two of us in this room. No Sasha. No Richard. No painful past to bother us. Whatever happens between you and me is because we want each other. I plan to lose myself in making love to you, Ivy. I hope you’ll do the same.”

  She searched his face, as if looking for evidence of his sincerity. At last, she smiled. “Okay.”

  Despite her whispered agreement, she flinched when he started pulling her top over her head. Though that tiny response bothered him, he kept his motions measured and careful as he undressed her. When she was completely naked, he threw back the covers.

  “Get in and stay warm, Ivy.”

  “But shouldn’t I…?”

  He followed her train of thought easily. “I’ll handle it this time.”

  When he made it down to his boxer briefs and stepped out of them, Ivy’s eyes widened. She stared at his erect sex with a rapt expression that did wonders for his ego. Unlike many women, Ivy didn’t try to be something she wasn’t. She was like a baby swan, all small and fluffy and vulnerable to the dangers in the world.

  “Scoot over,” he said. “I promise to keep you warm.”

  Ivy curled up against his naked body immediately. He took that as a good sign. She sighed deeply. “This is nice.”

  He choked out a laugh, aching with arousal. But he was determined to back-burner his libido if it meant pleasing Ivy. “More than nice,” he said gruffly. He ran his hands over her smooth ass. “You feel so good, Ivy. I’ve been fantasizing about this.”

  She rose up on one elbow and stared at him in shock. “You have?”

  “Of course. Men do that, you know.”

  “Women, too.” She wrinkled her nose. “But you never once let on. Why not?”

  “I wasn’t sure it was appropriate. You work for me. I didn’t want to take advantage of you.” He hesitated. “To be honest, I still feel guilty.”

  “Don’t be absurd.” She snuggled into his chest again, patting his collarbone. “This job you gave me is temporary. We both know that. When the time is right, you’ll go back to headquarters at Stone River Outdoors, and I’ll return to Portland to look for another position. It’s all good, Farrell. Besides, didn’t we agree to focus on this room, this bed, this night?”

  He kissed the top of her head. “You’re right. We did.”

  “May I ask you something?”

  Because he couldn’t see her face, he wasn’t able to analyze the odd note in her voice. “Anything,” he said.

  “I’d like to explore your body.” She touched his nipple as if to clarify. “I want to learn what you like. What you want. Is that okay?”

  Farrell didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Ivy’s guileless request sent hot arousal coursing through his veins, searing him from the inside out. Could he handle Ivy’s fairly inexperienced experiment? Did she not understand the power she held?

  “Absolutely,” he lied. “I’m all yours.”

  She began by kneeling at his side. Her breasts were small but perfect. When he tried to touch her, Ivy protested. “None of that. Put your hands behind your neck.”

  Already, his arousal was at fever pitch. But he obeyed. “Be gentle with me,” he begged, not entirely joking.

  “I love your body,” she said softly. “It’s so different from mine.” She traced the shell of his ear, tugging at the lobe. When she leaned over and put both hands on his collarbone, he trembled. Her breath was warm on his cheek.

  The look of fierce concentration on her face charmed and seduced him. She was so damn cute, so damn precious.

  He bit his lip to keep from groaning aloud when she ran a fingertip down his sternum. His hip bones were the next stop on her erotic route. Then she scooted over between his legs, spreading his thighs, getting comfortable. His body went on high alert.

  At first, she only looked. No physical contact. The fact that his sex was fully erect and oozing fluid seemed to enthrall her. She collected the drop of liquid on her fingertip and touched his lips. “Do you know what you taste like?”

  She was destroying him. “No,” he croaked. “Do you?”

  “I’m about to.”

  When she took him in her mouth, he shook as if he had a terrible jungle fever. Though she was ostensibly in control, her innocent delight in learning his physical attributes made him snap.

  With a muffled cry, he came, embarrassing himself and surprising Ivy. She wiped her mouth and sat back, her eyes wide. “Are you okay?”

  He could feel his face turn blood red. “Damn, Ivy. I’m sorry. You make me lose control.”

  A frown settled between her brows. “I don’t believe you.”

  He reared up, weight on his elbows behind him, and glared. “I’m a grown-ass man of thirty-two. I haven’t jumped the gun like that since I was a teenager. You arouse me, Ivy. Don’t you understand?”

  She moved off the bed and grabbed a robe. When she had tied the sash so tightly even Houdini couldn’t get into it, she backed up against the dresser. “You should go clean up. There are spare towels in the bathroom cabinet.”

  Just to annoy her, Farrell climbed out of bed and faced her, buck naked. He would bet a hundred dollars she wanted to look away, but his Ivy was a brave woman.

  He stalked her, grinning. “Do you like what you see?” Already, his erection was being reborn. When Ivy noticed, her eyes widened.

  “You’re a nice-looking man,” she said primly. “I won’t dispute that.”

  “But?”

  “You’re arrogant. And bossy. And I’m not sure I want to have sex with you anymore.”

  “Oh, really,” he drawled. “I think you’re lying.”

  Her affronted expression was priceless. “And I think you’re an oversexed Neanderthal.”

  “Don’t move,” he said.

  One quick trip to the bathroom, and he was ready to pick up where they’d left off.

  When he returned to the bedroom, Iv
y still huddled in her terry-cloth armor. She apparently had too much pride to let him think she was scared. Which suited Farrell just fine.

  He pulled her into his arms and kissed her roughly. “Last chance, Ivy Danby. It’s my turn now. Do you want me or not?”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Ivy was still stunned. Had she really aroused Farrell Stone to the point he lost control? That was what he wanted her to believe. Still, it seemed improbable.

  When he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her as if she were his last chance at life, her knees went weak. Hot male flesh, lightly dusted with hair, felt alien against her smooth skin. Alien and delicious.

  Farrell’s body was a wonder. As a man in his prime, he had serious muscles and a body that was honed by hard physical labor. Though he had the funds to hire a hundred laborers, she had often seen him tackling demanding jobs outside the house.

  He tugged a lock of her hair. “I asked you a question, Ivy.”

  “Keeping on kissing me,” she begged.

  “Not until you admit you want me.” He made her yelp when he slid a hand between her thighs and entered her with two fingers.

  Farrell groaned. “You’re wet and hot, my sweet. Your body doesn’t lie. But I need the words.”

  It was Ivy’s turn to hover on the brink of orgasm. She shivered and ached and yearned for him to take her. “Please make love to me, Farrell. I want you. I want you to—”

  He put his hand over her mouth, his laugh more of a strangled wheeze. “I’ll take it from here, sweetheart.”

  Tackling the knot on her robe took longer than it should. But at last he had her naked again. Scooping her up in his arms, he managed the two steps to the bed and tumbled them both onto the mattress.

  Ivy’s skin was chilled. He pulled the covers over them and nuzzled her neck. He could think of a million and one ways he wanted to pleasure her, but those would have to wait. Tonight, missionary style needed to be enough. He didn’t want to overwhelm her. He sensed that sharing a bed with him was a huge step for Ivy. He would do nothing to make her regret it.

  Beneath the sheets, he found the flat plane of her belly with his right hand. Dipping lower, he touched her center and lightly stroked her clitoris. Ivy’s keening moan raised gooseflesh on his body.

  Incredibly, he felt his body yanking at the reins, racing toward the finish line again. Suddenly, he remembered what he had forgotten. Hell.

  He rested his forehead on her belly, his lungs gasping for air. “I’m sorry, Ivy. I forgot the condom. It’s in my pants pocket.”

  She opened her eyes, her gaze hazy. “Hurry.”

  The single feminine demand galvanized him. Moments later, he was back, pausing only to take care of protecting her. Then he picked up where he had left off. Her sex was swollen, entirely ready for him.

  Yet, oddly, he needed reassurance. He scooted up beside her and drew her closer for a desperate kiss. “Are you ready, Ivy? I want this to be good for you, for us.”

  She kissed him back, one arm curled around his neck. “If you make me wait one second longer, I swear I’ll poison your pancakes.”

  Her humor in the midst of his own sexual desperation made him gape, then chuckle breathlessly. She was incredible.

  Calling on all the control he could muster, he moved between her legs and positioned the head of his shaft at her entrance. Though she arched and scratched and pleaded, he took her slowly, inch by inch, increasing the torment for both of them. At last, he was all the way in, his sex wrapped tightly in her feminine heat.

  He could feel her heartbeat when he kissed the side of her neck. Shuddering, he pressed his cheek to hers. “You have a beautiful, perfect body, Ivy. Made for my pleasure and yours. Don’t ever forget that.”

  Perhaps he still saw doubt in her eyes. She didn’t answer.

  So it was up to him to prove it. He twisted her nipple gently. A rosy flush bathed her face. Her skin was damp and warm, her body limber and responsive in his embrace.

  When he scraped the furled nub with his fingernail, her pupils dilated. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. “Farrell…”

  The drowsy pleasure he heard in those two syllables squeezed his chest, filled him with elation.

  He moved then, one strong thrust, then another. Ivy cried out his name and arched into him. Small hands clutched his shoulders. Sharp fingernails scored his skin. Her climax went on and on as he reached between them and gave her added stimulation.

  When he was sure she had wrung every drop of pleasure from her release, he let himself pound into her, blind with hunger, lost to reason.

  In the end, he lost a piece of himself into her keeping. It terrified him, but there was no way to get it back. Ivy had stolen his obstinate refusal to live fully. Or maybe he had offered her his true self as a gift. Possibly the exchange had been unintentional on both their parts.

  But the deed was done.

  He closed his eyes and slept.

  * * *

  Ivy came awake in the dark, searching for what had awakened her. Automatically, she glanced at the baby monitor. But Dolly was sleeping peacefully. Then understanding dawned. The noise that had roused her was a gentle snore from the large man at her side.

  She gulped and closed her eyes, trying to pretend she hadn’t invited Farrell Stone into her bed. She might as well have coaxed a shark into the kiddie pool.

  What had she done?

  Lightly, she stroked his forehead, tucking aside the lock of hair that tumbled onto his brow. Moments later, the piece of hair was down again. In his sleep, he looked no less masculine, but far more approachable.

  A heavy arm pinned her to the mattress, holding her just below her breasts. One of her legs was tucked between his. They were entwined like longtime lovers, not participants in a one-night stand.

  Surely this was nothing more than that. Ivy had been lonely and hungry for physical contact. Farrell had needed to break his sexual fast.

  She shouldn’t make too much of this. But oh, how she loved having him to herself so intimately. His scent, a combination of warm male skin and something crisp and woodsy, marked her sheets.

  Maybe she shouldn’t wash them.

  The clock read four thirty. She had at least another hour and a half before Dolly awoke. Carefully, she slipped from Farrell’s embrace and made a quick trip to the bathroom. When she returned, her lover was half-awake, frowning that she was gone.

  “Come back to bed,” he demanded, the words husky.

  “I was planning on it.” He was a bossy man, for sure. But since their plans aligned at the moment, she wouldn’t complain.

  She dropped her robe on the floor and lifted the covers. As she climbed in, Farrell made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl. He dragged her under him, bit the side of her neck and paused only to ask, “More, Ivy?”

  “Yes,” she sighed. “Oh, yes.”

  * * *

  The next time Ivy roused, it really was Dolly who interrupted her sleep. The alarm hadn’t gone off, but on the monitor, she could hear her daughter’s little morning noises.

  Ivy stretched, feeling groggy and sated. When she turned to the other side of the bed, she found the sheets cold and empty. But there was a note. Brief and impersonal, but a note.

  Dear Ivy,

  I need to get to the lab. Don’t worry about breakfast. I grabbed a banana from your kitchen.

  Later, Farrell…

  She frowned. Later, Farrell? What did that even mean? Her experience with “the morning after” was admittedly limited, but his blunt note wasn’t exactly the stuff of romantic movies.

  Then again, she and Farrell had been pretty clear about their expectations. He needed and wanted sex. Ivy had needed and wanted to feel normal again. Having sex with a man like Farrell meant she truly was healing.

  Well, mission accomplished for both of them. No reason
to feel sad or let down. Today was no different from yesterday. Life went on.

  She would ignore the pain in the pit of her stomach that was evidence of bruised feelings. That wasn’t an acceptable reaction to last night.

  Because Dolly was still happy with her teddy bear at the moment, Ivy dressed quickly and prepared a bottle before going into the baby’s room.

  Farrell might have left without fanfare, but Dolly was gratifyingly happy to see her mother.

  Ivy changed the baby’s diaper, put her in one of the cute rompers Katie had gifted them with and then sat in the rocking chair to feed her. Dolly had begun eating mashed bananas and Cheerios and a few other simple foods, but Ivy still enjoyed giving her a morning and bedtime bottle.

  When Dolly’s tummy was full, Ivy knew she couldn’t delay going up to the big house any longer.

  Though Farrell had waved off breakfast, he might come back for lunch since he hadn’t taken a sandwich. Ivy decided to make vegetable soup. It was still cool and misty today. Soup would hit the spot.

  She was nervous. Might as well admit it. How was she supposed to act this morning? Maybe she could take her cues from Farrell. For one crazy second, she contemplated walking over to the lab.

  But no. They didn’t have that kind of relationship. Besides, even if Farrell and Ivy had been a real couple, he had said more than once that he focused with tunnel vision when he was working on a project. He certainly didn’t need interruptions.

  The lunch hour came and went. She kept the soup warming on the stove just in case. Ivy ate and fed the baby. Put Dolly down for a nap in the study. Still no Farrell.

  At two o’clock, she heard her phone ding, signaling a text. Farrell’s communiqué was as terse as his pillow note.

  Ivy, something came up in Portland. I’m there now. Will return with Katie and Quin tomorrow morning. Farrell.

  She stared at the phone, feeling her heart shrivel in her chest. Was there really an emergency, or had Farrell left because he wanted to be clear about last night? That it was no big deal. Did he think she had the wrong idea?

  Even worse, maybe he was feeling guilty for betraying his wife. Sasha hadn’t intruded in the bedroom last night. At least Ivy didn’t think so. But what if Farrell had awakened this morning and found himself grieving for the only woman who’d ever captured his heart? The woman he still loved.