by Lucy Monroe
The kiss, which had already been incendiary, went to molten lava in the space of a second. His lips ate at hers while his tongue explored the interior of her mouth with devastating efficiency.
Pulling back from the kiss for only a moment, he mumbled something irritably about her height. Then he locked one hand in her hair and his other forearm under her bottom and lifted her until their mouths could cling without him having to bend very much while aligning her intimately with him.
She was forced to release her grip on his backside and abandon her exploration of the newly discovered erotic zone.
Unwilling to give up contact with his skin, she dug her fingers possessively into the hair-roughened hard plains of his chest. Desperately needing more and not willing to remove her mouth from his to ask for it, she pressed the juncture of her thighs against his hardness and squirmed for better contact. Moaning raggedly, he took two steps forward and she felt the cool glass of the sliding doors against her back.
It seemed the most natural thing in the world to spread her legs and then lift them until she had locked her ankles behind his buttocks. Oh, Heavens, it felt good. Better than good. It felt mind-blowing.
He thrust his hips against her as if he were inside her and she experienced the most sensually frustrating pleasure imaginable. The two layers of denim felt like instruments of torture that prevented the kind of intimacy she desperately craved, skin to skin.
She wanted him inside her.
Breaking her mouth away from his, she gulped in necessary oxygen. "Please, Marcus."
She didn't know what she was begging for, whether she wanted him to stop the insidious torment of that kiss or tear both their clothes off and finish the erotic game he had started.
He didn't respond but bent his head to kiss the tender underside of her jaw while he removed his land from her hair in order to tug at her top. He got it untucked with a couple of strong yanks. He didn't put his hand under the nibbly cotton but pushed it up to expose the revealing fabric of her bra to his gaze. With an expert flick of his wrist, he front clasp came undone and the slight full-less of her breasts quivered in all their bare glory.
He touched each one reverently with the tip of his forefinger. "You're so beautiful."
She whimpered.
"They're fuller than I remember. How could I lave forgotten?" He sounded dazed.
"You didn't." The words were out before she thought better of them.
How could she explain the fuller curves of her breasts, a side effect of breast feeding Aaron for he first six months of his life, without telling Marcus the truth?
"You've gained weight, too." He drew a line down the exposed flesh of her stomach. "I like it."
She said nothing. She'd been a size six before pregnancy and a size eight after. Her hips had filled out, she had a slight curve on her tummy and her breasts had grown a cup size, which still hadn't given her the figure of a centerfold by any stretch of the imagination.
He circled her nipples with that same enticing finger and the already tight buds pebbled and swelled in a plea for more direct attention. She ached for that attention so much, she moaned with the pain of it.
'This is the same. You're still so responsive, you take my breath away." He lowered his head and gave her aching flesh what it wanted. His mouth.
Oh, my goodness. He was wrong. She was more responsive. Way more responsive. Nipples that had ached constantly during pregnancy now responded to the slight sucking motion of his mouth with overwhelming intensity. Sensation shot from her breasts to her femininity with startling power and she cried out. He increased the suction of his lips and she writhed against him in a mindless frenzy of unfulfilled desire.
Using his hand, he plucked and played with her other nipple to overpowering effect. Unbelievably she felt the inner clenching that signified imminent orgasm. "Please, Marcus, harder! Don't stop. Please…"
Her voice ceased working as he obeyed and increased the pressure on her rock-hard nipples. And then she exploded, her legs tightening around him until her thighs hurt from the strain. Her head banged back against the glass door, her nails digging into his chest, and a primal scream exploded from between her passionately parted lips.
Marcus went rigid against her, but he didn't stop the ministrations to her sensitized flesh and the inner contractions went on and on until, finally, she went limp.
"Please, no more," she begged.
He kissed each breast softly, and tenderly laved her nipples with his tongue before raising his head.
His stunned gaze met hers. "How?" he asked.
Having no answer for him, she let her head drop forward and buried her face in the crook of his shoulder. She kissed the salty skin of his neck and then let her mouth rest against him. She could feel his body still rigid with sexual tension, but right then, she couldn't make one move to help him alleviate it.
Not that she didn't want to, but she was too drained by the response of her body.
He didn't push it, seemingly content to stand there holding her all night. His hand caressed the back of her head and he kissed her temple. The kiss was soft, gentle and wholly without expectation. A great swell of love for the man she'd wrapped her body around rolled over her. She was too overwhelmed by what she'd just experienced in his arms to deny the feeling, so she tucked it away for examination later.
Slowly, the reality of their surroundings penetrated her passion-exhausted brain. She could smell the steaks cooking. She hoped Marcus had thought to set the grill far above the hot briquettes because neither of them had thought of their dinner for quite a while.
The sound of traffic from six stories below reminded her that she had just screamed out her sexual release for all of west Seattle to hear and hot embarrassment climbed up her neck and into her cheeks. Oh, Heavens. She burrowed more tightly against Marcus, hiding her nakedness against his body.
His grip on her tightened and he kissed the exposed skin of her cheek. "Let me love you, Ronnie."
The words were as seductive as his tone. He had always referred to their intimacy as sex. Her body experienced a resurgence of desire at that simple four-letter word.Love .
Could he possibly have realized he loved her after losing her? It seemed very unlikely. How could a man love a woman who had betrayed her own honor and him in the process?
"The steaks," she forced herself to remind him.
"Forget about them."
"When they turn to charcoal themselves and motivate a neighbor to call the fire department, you'll remember them quickly enough."
"How can you worry about the damn steaks after what just happened? Can't you feel how much I need you?" He thrust his hardened manhood against her and she shuddered.
If he had sounded angry, or demanding, she might have been able to withstand him, but he asked the question in a voice of genuine bewilderment underlaced with very real masculine need.
And he'd said that darned "L" word.
He'd asked her to let him love her and she didn't know how she could refuse. She'd tried to stop loving Marcus. She really had, but had known it was a lost cause during her pregnancy.
How could she eradicate love for the father when she had the child to remind her of all that she missed and desired? And how could she refuse his urgent need to love her body when her own desire matched his?
Finding release hadn't brought her fulfillment. Only the sensation of Marcus's body filling hers could do that. She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him to her as if he were threatening to leave rather than begging her to stay.
Kissing his throat again, she inhaled his scent and then kissed the underside of his chin for good measure.
"I don't care about the steaks. I don't even particularly care that I've just had a significant sexual encounter with you on the balcony of your apartment in full view of God, birds and neighbors with binoculars. Take me to bed, Marcus.Please ."
Chapter Eleven
Marcus stiffened at Ronnie's words.She'd agreed . She wanted him.
His hardened flesh throbbed at the thought, while his mind wrapped around her assurance that she wasn't even going to let the fact she'd just screamed her pleasure out for God, birds and neighbors with binoculars to hear bother her.
Eighteen months ago, the knowledge that she had been so wild in a potentially public setting would have sent her into hysterics.
Unwilling to risk her thinking about it some more and changing her mind, he kept her wrapped around him and carried her inside, his long-legged stride eating up the distance to his bedroom. He laid her on the bed and came down on top of her, putting his weight on his arms so he didn't crush her. With her shirt all bunched up above her pretty little breasts and her hair in disarray, she looked wanton and wild.
And he wanted her.
His sex continued to pulse with the need to be inside her. He wasn't even sure he'd be able to unzip his jeans without doing bodily damage to his masculinity.
"I need to be inside you, baby. I need it so bad."
"Yes." She rocked under him, just one sexy little wiggle, but he felt like exploding.
An animal-like growl crawled up his throat and exploded from between his teeth clenched with sexual tension.
If he didn't get hold of himself, he was going to take her with all the finesse of a teenager looking for his first score. He needed a breather, just sixty seconds not connected to her body in which to pull himself together. He hesitated.
If he took time away from her and left her alone, she might change her mind about letting him make love to her.
She gazed up at him with that unfocused look that indicated she was under the influence of her passion rather than her brain.
Hell.
He didn't have a choice.
He levered himself off her. "I'm going to go rescue the steaks."
Her eyes widened and her lips parted on what might have been a protest, but he shook his head in denial of her speaking.
He backed out of the room, forcing his limbs to take him in the opposite direction from the one they wanted to go—toward the bed. "I'll be right back."
Then he spun on his heel and practically sprinted into the kitchen.
Walking through the brightly lit room, he went back out onto the balcony and pulled in several deep breaths of the chilly evening air before he removed the steaks from the grill. They were more cooked than he usually liked, but not unsalvageable. When he reentered the kitchen, he decided to torture himself by putting away the salad and other food for dinner.
His body had not appreciably relaxed, but he wanted to give Ronnie time to collect herself. To decide ifshe was ready to let him make love to her.
Since the first time they made love, she'd had no self-control where he was concerned.
He'd liked that. He'd liked it a lot, but he wasn't going to use it. Not this time. This time he was playing for a future and he wasn't going to risk her walking away again without saying good-bye. If she let him make love to her, she was going to know what she was doing and he wouldn't let her leave him again afterward.
With every passing minute, he became more convinced that he would return to his bedroom to find Ronnie dressed and put back together. Or gone. No, not gone. Her glasses were on the table on the balcony. She couldn't drive without them. He went back outside to retrieve them.
Then, taking a deep breath, he walked slowly back toward the bedroom, the uncomfortably tight fit in the front of his jeans a reminder that though his thoughts were pure, his body was weak as hell.
The bedside lamp was off, but enough light filtered in from the hall to illuminate his bed and the completely naked woman waiting in the middle of it.
He stopped dead in the center of the room.
"You took long enough to eat your steak. Don't tell me you slaked your hunger?" She'd clearly meant it as a joke, but she sounded nervous. On edge.
Had he taken too long and hurt her feelings? He'd just wanted to give her time to make up her own mind.
"Never." He'd always be hungry for her.
He'd learned that lesson very, very well.
She smiled, her lips tilted in almost feline anticipation. "Then what are you waiting for?"
"You used to be shy." His voice came out gravelly, rather than teasing, as he'd intended.
She shrugged even as her skin took on a faintly pink hue, and the pouting swell of her breasts rose and fell in a fascinating movement.
"Blame yourself. I'm only this way with you."
He tore his shirt off and then carefully worked the zipper down on his jeans. "I only want you this way with me."
The thought of her naked in any other man's arms made him see red. Speaking of… "Where the hell did you learn that little move you used on me outside?"
She'd never done it before and the prospect that she'd learned it with someone else gutted him.
Her blush intensified, her natural shyness returning. "Cosmo."
More relieved than he wanted to admit, he pushed his jeans down his thighs, freeing his penis. It bobbed up to full attention and he almost laughed at the look of undisguised longing burn-ing in Ronnie's eyes. Toeing off his shoes and socks, he finished removing his jeans and then stood completely naked, letting her look her fill.
She loved to look at his naked body. He could remember times before when he'd woken up from a satiated doze to find her kneeling next to him on the bed, just staring.
"Seen enough?" he asked.
"Never," she said, repeating his earlier answer.
He walked toward the bed, feeling like a predator ready to move in on its prey.
He wanted this woman under him and he wanted it yesterday. "You're going to feel so good."
She shuddered and a needy sound escaped her lips while her legs parted in a blatant invitation as old as time. He was really, really glad she'd already climaxed on the balcony because he didn't think he'd last more than a few thrusts after eighteen months of celibacy and the highly erotic foreplay that had brought about her shocking orgasm.
He'd never seen a woman climax from having her breasts stimulated before. True, he'd been rubbing himself against her, but how much sensation could she have received through two layers of denim and her panties?
"What are you thinking?" she asked, her voice sounding croaky.
"How sexy you are. That I probably won't last worth a damn." He would not have admitted that weakness to any other woman.
She bit her lip, her legs shifting, but not closing. "I thought you might not like what you see. I've changed."
He nodded, moving toward the bed, toward her, stopping when his shins hit against the end of the mattress. "I told you I liked it. Even more now that I can see everything."
She had the sweetest curve on her tummy and her hips were fuller. He didn't understand it. His mother had always lost weight when she was stressed, but Ronnie had filled out some even though the last eighteen months had to have been hell with her sister in the hospital and trying to start a new life here in Seattle.
Regardless, he really did like her new look. He wanted to feel every inch of her lusher body, getting to know each new curve completely and putting his brand on her with his hands and his mouth.
But not right now. Right now, all he could think about was getting inside her.
The basic mating act.
He came down on top of her and shuddered at the impact of her warm, welcoming nakedness against his skin. It felt so good that he wasn't sure he'd even make it inside her. She moved restlessly under him, spreading her thighs wide to make a place for him there. He felt the tip of his penis against the entrance to her femininity. The soft, wet warmth beckoned him and he wanted to surge inside in one strong thrust.
He stopped himself just in time and asked the question that needed asking. "Birth control? Do I need to protect you?"
He wasn't going to get into a discussion about safe sex, not when he'd spent the last eighteen months celibate and had the distinct impression she had too.
Her breath caught and she tipped her p
elvis toward him. "Yes. I didn't think. Do you have something?"
He reveled in this further proof that she hadn't been sexually active since she'd left him. She'd gone off the Pill and hadn't had any reason to go back on. He reached across her, his sex brushing against the silken smoothness of her stomach, and yanked open the drawer of the nightstand.
He grabbed a small foil packet and handed it to her. "You do it." His hands weren't steady enough.
She arched up toward him, letting her body caress his excited flesh while she concentrated on opening the condom and nulling it from the wrapper.
