by Vella Munn
When he didn’t respond, she started to straighten. Maybe he didn’t like women taking the initiative. Maybe—
“Don’t leave.”
Just like that she noted a subtle shift in their relationship. She might be standing over him but he’d started to direct what would or wouldn’t happen. Eager to see what he had in mind—and responding to a humming deep inside her—she kissed him. This time he did more than meet her halfway. This contact went deeper and lasted longer, much longer.
She felt lightheaded and dizzy. Despite her awkward position, she refused to give into the strain as she lightly closed her teeth over his lower lip. He easily pulled free followed by doing the same to her. His hold, while not painful, said he had no intention of letting her go.
After several seconds, or minutes—she wasn’t sure—he placed his hands around her waist and guided her onto his lap. Sighing, she rested the side of her head against Nate’s chest and closed her eyes. She wasn’t relaxed, anything but. At the same time taking his body heat into her felt so good she was content to remain where she was.
Despite her jeans, Nate started stroking her legs, using long, slow sweeps that extended from ankle to hip. She liked not having to say anything, loved just being.
Waiting for the next step in this—thing between them.
“You haven’t had much pampering, have you?” His chest rumbled.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Treated like a princess. Your parents saw you in very different ways but they expected you to carry your own weight and part of theirs.”
“I guess.” She didn’t want to talk, wanted simply to feel. To be. When she straightened so she could look at Nate, Bruce grumbled a protest and slid off the couch. “We all do what we have to when we have to.”
“The have-tos are different for everyone.”
There it was again, the barest hint of what his life had been about.
“So,” she said with what she hoped was a light note, “what does a pampered princess do? Maybe there’s a manual I should have read.”
He rubbed her shoulder, sending chills and heat throughout her. “Did you ever wish things were different?”
“Yes.” She couldn’t continue a serious conversation while they were like this so reluctantly stood up. Like Nate, she’d removed her shoes. Her socks slid over the old but recently-vacuumed carpet creating static electricity. “I didn’t want my mother to be depressed.”
“What about your father?”
That was harder to answer or maybe the truth was she’d spent so much time shoving down certain thoughts that she had to work at capturing them.
“He judged everything he did by its financial reward. He couldn’t stand dealing with anyone who didn’t carry their weight.”
“He expected you to reflect well on him.”
Did they have to talk about this? If she wasn’t careful, she risked telling him something she’d never shared with anyone.
“You never met him.” Her arms felt awkward, dangling at her sides, so she slid her hands into her pockets. “You don’t know what he was like.”
His attention slipped to her breasts then back to her face. “I wouldn’t recognize him, but my guess is my description is pretty close to reality.”
“Fine,” she snapped. “It is. Does that make you happy?”
When he rubbed the tops of his thighs, the gesture took her back to when she’d sat on his lap. She wanted that again, now.
To make love to him, not dance around words.
“No, I’m not happy. I had no business saying what I did.”
“Why did you?” She was no longer angry, wasn’t sure what she felt.
“Because I want to get to know you better.”
Her heart swelled. She had to blink several times to deal with tears she had little experience with. “And I want to get to know you.”
He touched the couch. “Maybe we can continue what we were doing?”
Despite her out of control heart rate, she forced herself to stay where she was. “I think—think we need some ground rules.”
“Like how things might end up tonight?”
Being a modern woman could be so darn hard. Reality was always there demanding to be addressed. “Yes. I think—I think I want intimacy.”
“By intimacy do you mean sex?”
Sex. “Yes. Maybe.”
“I have condoms in the truck.”
“Oh.” Don’t back down. So much rides on what you say. “I’ll put on my slippers and—”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I’m offering.”
Chapter Seventeen
ALISHA WAS ALMOST at Nate’s truck before she realized she should have thrown on a jacket but how could she think about something so unimportant when she was about to make love to the man who’d twice tackled cabin chores she couldn’t?
No, sex wasn’t a done deal. Either one of them might decide not to go through with the intimate act. Judging by how deeply buried the package was, she surmised it had been there a while, which buoyed her confidence.
When she went back inside, she found him standing in the space between the kitchen and living room. No way could any woman not be attracted to that work-honed body.
“I’m not going to pressure you.” He held out his hand and she placed the small packet in it. “If you want me to leave, I will.”
Being alone would be easier on her nerves and emotions but she’d been alone so many nights. Maybe more importantly, she wanted to get to know him better. That was what it boiled down to, wasn’t it? Becoming lovers might open other doors between them.
She kicked off her slippers, followed by her socks. “I want you to stay.”
He tossed the condom onto the table and held out his hands. “Thank you for saying that.”
She took several not-quite-calming breaths before extending her hands toward him. When their fingers touched it was all she could do not to collapse. This was a Ferris wheel, a canoe ride down a rushing river.
He drew her against him, guided her arms around his neck, wrapped his arms around her waist. Inclined his head toward her.
Breathe. One breath at a time. You can do this.
Darn it, this wasn’t a business deal. Nate was holding onto her because they needed the same thing.
A sigh escaped. Then she pressed herself against him and lifted her head. Their lips met, crushed, slacked off, crushed again. The canoe she was in picked up speed and the rapids became stronger. Emboldened by the river’s strength and blood pulsing through her, she widened her stance and pressed her pelvis against him. He did the same, handed her proof of his readiness.
Maybe their bodies had found a common rhythm. It seemed to her they started swaying at the same time. The only sound came from the crackling in the wood stove. She stopped holding onto his neck and started massaging the top of his spine. A masculine moan rolled out of him as he flattened his palms against the sides of her waist under her top. She’d barely become accustomed to the sensual change when his hands slipped down to her hips.
Lacking words, she turned her head to the side and planted light kisses on his cheek. There was something almost mystical about him, as if she’d conjured him up. He wasn’t real and ordinary, not this man who made her feel as if she was on fire. She’d never experienced anything like this, not even during her crazy teenage years.
She wanted him. Needed him.
When he pushed her away, she nearly lost her mind. If he’d changed his mind—
“Even though I loved the dress you had on the other day,” he said, “it’s probably better that you aren’t wearing it tonight. Looking at it, I couldn’t figure out how to get you out of it.”
“Oh, I think you would have figured it out but considering how many people I knew were going to be here today…”
“I understand. Now it’s just us, and Bruce.”
She stood before him as he unfastened her jeans and freed the zipper. Staring at her middle
, he drew the garment down her hips as far as he could while standing up. He crouched and continued the downward journey until she was able to step out of her jeans. Heated air stroked sensitive skin. She should have worn more seductive panties—if she had any. If they had more than tonight, she’d buy some.
“I want to check on my progress,” he said as he straightened. Leaving her wondering what he had in mind, he stepped away from her and folded his arms over his chest. “Nice legs. You work out?”
Was he deliberately driving her crazy? If that was what he intended, she’d try to show him she could do the same thing—maybe.
Watching for his reaction, she extended her left leg toward him, arching her foot so her muscles tightened. “I run at least four mornings a week. You should try it.”
He swallowed, swallowed again. His arm muscles tightened. “I think I’ll just observe how running works for you. All right.” His gaze travelled down her legs, reversed direction, settled on her middle again. “Back to the task at hand.”
When he took hold of her T-shirt’s hem and started pulling up on it, she leaned forward, extended her arms, and backed out of it.
“That was easy,” he said.
“So…” She had to swallow before she could continue. “What’s next?”
“Seeing you. All of you.”
Oh, lordy! Much more of this and she’d shatter.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.
“I don’t know what to say. I’ve never heard that.”
“Hard to believe, but I like being the first.” He tossed her T-shirt on a chair.
Her arms drifted to her sides and she stood before him.
“Wonderful,” he whispered and drew her against him.
His hands brushed over her spine, rested on her hips. Wishing she’d thought to take off his shirt, she again wrapped her arms around him and kissed his throat. Need flamed. Somehow she concentrated on exploring his neck, his throat, feeling the blood pulsing in his veins there.
Mewling like a homeless kitten, she fastened her arms around his neck and held on. Maybe he’d spend the night but maybe he needed his own space. Whatever his decision, she would take these moments.
“I owe you,” she whispered. “You’ve helped so much here. I can’t—”
“Because I wanted to.”
Before she could thank him for saying what he had, he lifted her in his arms and carried her into the larger bedroom. Her bra and panties felt foreign. Because she’d kept the door open, it was warm in there. The room sported a queen-size bed and a double so it was a tight squeeze getting around the dresser. In addition, there was a single bed that had never been used except to place things on.
“It was like this when Dad bought the cabin,” she explained as he deposited her on the largest bed. “He said to leave it like it was.”
Nate leaned over her, his face so close she felt his breath. Barely able to contain herself, she clutched the spread to keep from hauling him on top of her.
“Turn it into your place.” He didn’t touch her.
“Are you offering to help with the redecorating?”
He responded with an obligatory chuckle. The lighting in the living room-kitchen area barely reached where they were, turning him into a vague masculine shadow. When he continued to stand over her, she reached for him. Her fingers slid down his thighs.
He briefly let her explore his muscled legs then took hold of her wrists and drew her off him.
“You’re making me crazy,” he told her.
Not as crazy as you’re making me. “That’s the plan.”
He lifted her arms over her head and pressed them against the bed so she could barely move her upper body. “I don’t want this to end in seconds, which it will if you keep doing what you are to me,” he said.
Much as she appreciated his honesty, she didn’t know how she could handle slow. “What do you want me to do?”
“Stay right like you are.”
Despite the question of whether she could, she nodded then watched as he went back into the living room. She lowered her hands, widened the space between her legs, and pressed against her panty’s crotch. She was so hot there, already wet, eager.
When Nate returned with the condom, she sat up and extended her damp fingers toward him. He dropped the package onto the bed and guided her fingers to his mouth. He licked.
“You taste like woman.”
Darn him! He was going to drive her crazy!
The old mattress sagged under her, threatening to throw her off balance. She made a mental note to buy a new, firmer one.
“I want to get up,” she told him. “So I can undress you.”
“Maybe another time. Tonight I want to be in charge.”
He wasn’t issuing an order so much as offering a suggestion. When he released her hand, she placed her arms behind her and leaned back on them.
“Speaking of pacing,” she said around the tightness in her throat, “when are you going to get rid of your darned wet clothes?”
“They aren’t wet anymore.”
“Whatever. I don’t want to see them.”
In truth, she could barely see him let alone what he was wearing, but he must have gotten the point. Her body hummed as he pulled his shirt over his head. She longed to be touched, his rough fingers gliding over her flesh, his warm breath blowing on her breasts until the tips became even harder.
He spread his fingers over her shoulders and pressed until she was in danger of losing her balance. After a moment, he stopped, and she again straightened.
“I still can’t quite wrap my mind around the fact that this is happening,” he said. “We haven’t known each other long. You’re sure—”
“Yes, I am.” She extended her left leg and pressed her toes against his thigh.
He responded with a less-than-steady moan. He was right. They were still new together, so much left to discover, possible landmines ahead. But she knew how to make decisions. There just hadn’t been many with the potential to make such an impact on her life.
“Nate, please, let’s do this.”
“Get it over with, you mean?”
“No. Of course not. Please.”
He didn’t ask what she was begging, which she was grateful for because she wasn’t sure. It had something, maybe everything, to do with having him in here with her.
He didn’t say anything as he unzipped and stepped out of the jeans that had served him so well today. When he sat on the side of the bed, his greater weight again drew her closer.
He turned so he was facing her, reached behind her and unfastened her bra. Because she was still propping herself up, the bra remained in place.
“Hmm. Not exactly what I had in mind.” He informed her and tugged at a strap. “Fortunately, it won’t take much to get things right.”
The way he alternated between a light tone and seduction kept her off balance but she was content to ride with the emotions. Equality in the bedroom meant a million different things, most of them beyond comprehension.
She didn’t resist when he pushed her down again, and when he again claimed the bra straps and drew the garment off her, contented helplessness enveloped her. This man was accustomed to doing whatever needed to be done. That carried over into the bedroom. Competent. In everything.
He tossed the garment onto the double bed and slowly, so slowly, leaned down over her. Her toes curled and her fisted fingers threatened to cramp.
“You smell good,” she told him. “Like the lake.”
“That’s good?”
She lightly scratched his chest. He shuddered, again captured her wrists, and placed her fingers near his mouth. Nibbled on them.
“Yes,” she belatedly answered. No way could she remain still. “It’s a sign that you belong here, at this lake, doing what you are at this stage of your life.” She took what she hoped would be a calming breath but wasn’t. “That this is the only thing you need to do tonight.”
He’d kept her fingers at
his lips throughout her short speech. Now he lowered her hands and placed them over her waist.
“I agree about tonight. I’m not sure about the rest of it.”
A sliver of concern penetrated her ready-for-lovemaking body and mind, but she forced the sensation aside. She wouldn’t think about anything except becoming his lover. Hopefully he’d come to the same conclusion because, instead of expanding on his comment, he bent even lower and kissed her chin. She started to lift her hands, forced herself to stop. He turned her head to the side. His damp, all-knowing tongue explored her neck and ear until she thought she’d go mad. Somehow she remained beneath him.
When his tongue moved to her shoulders, she tried closing her eyes so she could concentrate on self-control. Instead, she felt herself sliding closer to the brink. Staring at the dark form over her, she tried to distract herself by kneading her stomach. Another mistake, even more warmth spreading over her.
He wanted slow but could she make it happen?
His damp lips glided along her collarbone, nestled between her breasts, lapped at her swollen mounds, seized a nipple.
“Oh god, oh god.” She ground her buttocks against the spread.
“Easy.” Heated moisture coated her breasts. “Just be easy.”
“I can’t.” Her head thrashed. “Oh, please, I can’t.”
“Then just enjoy.”
Chapter Eighteen
ENJOYMENT WAS WHAT happened when she found time to sit outside on a warm day. This was that plus a thousand and Nate knew it. Still she vowed to try to live up to his expectations—or meet his challenge, whichever it was.
When he straightened, she waited with her breath snagged. Why hadn’t she turned on a light? That way, maybe, she would be able to anticipate his next move.
He placed his fingers over her mouth and she started nibbling on them. After a moment, he worked his fingers between her teeth. She sucked, coating them with moisture.
“Good girl. That’s what I want.”
She wasn’t sure what he was talking about until he withdrew and ran his moistened fingers over her ribs. Fighting a fine and wonderful madness, she journeyed with him as he bathed her stomach, navel, and hip bones. Somewhere between his painting the front of her thighs and swell of her hips, she lost the battle with her hands. They levitated off her body and onto his, gripping his waist, pushing down on his shorts as far as they’d go. She lightly scratched his hips then reached behind him and clutched his buttocks.
