Exclusive / a Touch of Heaven

by Samantha Chase

  She sighed with appreciation at the sight of him. He was a man who did physical labor and it showed. Every inch of him was muscle, and it took every ounce of self-control she had to keep her hands to herself while he went in search of clean clothes to wear.

  With clothes in hand, Mike turned and walked into the en suite. He couldn’t miss the way Taylor was watching him. Even though they were on a schedule, he couldn’t help himself. Without a word, he walked back to the bed and pulled the blankets back. A small scream escaped Taylor’s mouth at the surprise attack.

  “Mike! What are you doing?”

  Still silent, he scooped her up in his arms and headed toward the bathroom. Placing her on her feet, enjoying the delicious slide of her naked body against his, he smiled wickedly. “Trust me. We’ll save time showering together.”

  Taylor’s smile lit up the room, and as he reached behind her to turn on the water, he realized he didn’t care if it saved time or not.

  * * *

  They stepped off the boat a little later with their coffees in travel mugs. Mike was determined to get Taylor outfitted early so they could pick up their bikes and begin the tour. By ten o’clock, Taylor had new sneakers, thick socks, sweatpants, and a sweatshirt that said Kennebunkport on it. She had rolled her eyes when he picked it up, claiming she had a sweatshirt she could wear, but Mike had insisted she needed it so she would remember her time there.

  As if she could forget it.

  They made a quick stop back at the yacht for Taylor to change and grab her camera equipment. In the back of her mind, Taylor had decided that even if she didn’t use the pictures for her piece, she’d love to have them for her personal album. Once she had everything loaded up and ready to go, Mike led them back to the car and drove across town to where they would pick up their bikes.

  The tour he had chosen would take them to Cape Porpoise on a route parallel to the Kennebunk River, a view of where it emptied into the Atlantic in sight. Taylor stopped many times to take pictures, but rather than get annoyed, Mike stood back and watched her work, marveling at the way she found joy and wonder in the smallest of things. It didn’t matter if it was a flower, a tree, or people, Taylor found a way to photograph them to tell a story. Along the way, they had seen an old fire station, and she had stopped the bike to photograph it as well. As they rode away, she spoke of what she imagined its history to be. Between the pictures, the conversation, and the ride itself, Mike thoroughly enjoyed himself.

  The route ended at Cape Porpoise, which was a working fishing village with great vistas and tons of traditional Maine fare. Feeling invigorated from the ride, they locked up the bikes and walked through the town to window-shop. They had been walking for several minutes when Taylor realized they were holding hands. It was such a natural thing for them to do, and she wondered when it had happened. When had they gone from two people who hadn’t seen each other in years to comfortable lovers?

  Noticing the direction of her gaze, Mike gently squeezed her hand and led her to a shack out on the pier. “Have you ever had a lobster club?” he asked, walking up to the window of the shack.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever even heard of a lobster club,” she said with a chuckle.

  Not waiting for further input, Mike ordered them two sandwiches and drinks. After paying and taking the tray, he led her to a spot further out on the pier. Sitting down and hanging his legs from the side, he patted the spot next to him.

  Taylor obliged and readily sat down, accepting the sandwich. Biking always gave her an appetite and the sight of the sandwich was enough to make her almost forget her manners. “Thank you,” she said as she accepted the plate he handed to her. She purred with contentment after the first bite.

  “There’s nothing quite like it,” Mike commented as he watched her eat. “I know New York is famous for its food, but they can’t do something like this. This is fresh out of the ocean.”

  Delicately wiping her mouth, Taylor nodded. “Like I said last night, I could definitely get used to this.” She finished eating in silence and then leaned back and closed her eyes, letting the sun touch her face.

  Silent beside her, Mike watched. He’d seen her relax more and more over the last several days, but this was, by far, the most serene he had ever seen her. She looked even younger than her years—almost as young as when he’d first met her, if that were even possible.

  Actually, something about her today reminded him of the girl he had known back then. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her cheeks were flushed from the bike ride, and she had a smile that seemed to say that she didn’t have a care in the world. It was a good look.

  Finishing his sandwich, he looked out at the water. The air was cool, typical for a fall day. He watched many boats off in the distance and wished they could spend more time here without the crew and go off sailing on their own. No interruptions. No watchful eyes.

  No schedule to keep.

  The thought made him look at his watch. It was already after two in the afternoon, and he knew the ride back would be shorter since Taylor wouldn’t need to stop for as many pictures, but it was still going to take them at least two hours to get back. Turning, he looked at Taylor, hating to disturb her, to break the peace she was clearly experiencing.

  It was an unfortunate necessity.

  “I think we need to start heading back,” he said quietly and nearly groaned with desire as Taylor turned to him with slumberous eyes and a serene smile on her face. She looked like an angel to him—unfortunately, the thoughts going through his mind were far from angelic.

  “So soon?”

  He nodded. “It’s still a couple of hours of riding, and then we have to return the bikes and get back to the boat to pack and then drive home.” Her expression didn’t change as he spoke, and he wondered if she was even listening. “Taylor?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I hate to cut our day short…”

  “It’s so peaceful out here. We’re surrounded by people and the water, and there are boats and birds and conversations going on all around us, yet it’s so peaceful.” She took a deep lungful of fresh air and let it out slowly. “I know we can’t stay here, but I’m enjoying our last minutes.”

  He felt guilty. There were probably a dozen different ways for him to get out of his responsibilities for at least another day, but that wasn’t who he was. He took his job seriously, which was why people respected him. It had taken a long time before anyone showed him any kind of respect, and it had taken moving hundreds of miles away from everything he had ever known to make it happen. He wasn’t about to shirk it all now.

  Standing, Mike collected their trash and gave Taylor another minute to enjoy the view. By the time he had turned around, she was walking toward him with a lazy gait. “Any chance of someone picking us up and taking the bikes back?”

  He laughed. “Come on, now. That doesn’t sound like the bike enthusiast you bragged about being.”

  “Yeah, well…that bike enthusiast never rode for hours followed by a lazy and filling lunch on the water. I could very easily take a nap right now.”

  He made a tsking sound and took her by the hand. “I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, but we can do it, right?”

  Protest was on the tip of her tongue, but she let it go. They walked along quietly to where they had locked up the bikes and soon were on their way. The sights were no less spectacular, but this time Taylor was satisfied watching them go by rather than stopping to photograph them. She sighed with contentment, happy to be riding behind Mike and watching his adorable rear snugly covered in denim. Now, that was something she could watch all day long.

  At the midway point, Mike surprised her by pulling his bike over to a shady spot beside the river. “What are you doing?” Taylor asked as she pulled up beside him.

  “I’m not as in shape as I thought I was.” He laughed through a ragged breath. “I need a
break!” Parking his bike against a tree, he walked slowly toward the water, holding his side for dramatic effect.

  Taylor had to admit she felt a little winded herself, and the thought of taking a short break by the river sounded very appealing. After parking her bike next to Mike’s, she followed his path through the trees and found him lying on his back on a patch of thick grass, eyes closed, hands behind his head. She sat down beside him and looked out at the water. His hand on her shoulder made her jump, but soon she found herself lying down beside him.

  “Relax,” he whispered, his eyes still closed.

  Obeying, Taylor lay there on her back, hands above her head in surrender. It felt wonderful to lie there with the sun shining down on her face. She closed her eyes and let her body go boneless. “I may never get back on that bike after this,” she murmured and heard his soft chuckle next to her.

  Moments later, she noticed a shadow over her face. Opening her eyes, she found Mike leaning up on one elbow, looking down at her. No words were exchanged; it was all in their eyes. His asked. Hers answered. Slowly, Mike lowered his head as Taylor reached up to wrap an arm around his shoulder to bring him closer. When his lips met hers, Taylor melted. It was so good, so sweet. His lips were so soft, so gentle, coaxing hers to open under his. It didn’t take long for her to give in, and for as much emotion as they each poured into the kiss, it didn’t feel hurried or frantic.

  It felt…right.

  Mike sighed deeply into her mouth and Taylor felt all of his longing in this one exquisite kiss. She rolled onto her side so she could press herself against him. He ran a hand down her back and let it rest at the base of her spine and held her to him. Their tongues teased shyly at first—aware of kissing in the middle of a fairly public area—but when Taylor wriggled against him to fit more snugly against his growing arousal, Mike’s control broke.

  All thoughts of being out in public were forgotten. Turning Taylor onto her back, Mike stretched out on top of her and his kiss became more urgent, demanding. Taylor clung to him, wanting all of his strength and heat. Tongues mated, hands roamed as she raked her fingers up through his hair. His mouth left hers briefly to kiss her throat, focusing all of his attention there as she let out a moan of approval. She arched her head back to give him better access and he sucked where her pulse was racing. Unable to help himself, Mike ground his hips against hers and Taylor had an overwhelming need to wrap her legs around him to keep him secured against her.

  Sounds of approaching voices broke them apart. Mike jerked his head up and looked around, seeing a group of people off in the distance. He quickly rolled off of her before looking back at her face. When he did, it took all of the self-control he had ever had to not take her right then and there. Her eyes were dark with desire, her cheeks flushed and her lips full and red from their kissing. When her tongue darted out to moisten them, he groaned and buried his face in the crook of her neck and shoulder, inhaling her sweet scent. He hugged her close one last time before rising and extending a hand to help her up.

  It was odd, but for all that had happened, not a word had been spoken. It was as if they were of one mind. Walking slowly back to their bikes, Taylor smiled shyly at him as she got ready to climb back on. As before, he led the way back to town. The rest of the scenery was lost on her, anyway. All Taylor could think about was how she didn’t want to drive back to the farm; hell, she didn’t want to drive anywhere. She wanted to get back, return the bikes, and go back to the yacht where they could spend another night in each other’s arms.

  They hadn’t discussed it, but the reality was that Taylor would not be comfortable spending the night with Mike back at Wade’s farmhouse. She’d have to address that with him. Although, was there a difference between sleeping with him on the yacht and doing the same back at the farm? For some reason, it seemed like there was. Even without Jonathan there, the farm seemed like it was a personal residence.

  She sighed. It sucked not being more in control of their surroundings and where they were staying. She’d love to find a little bed and breakfast or hotel and hole up there for a few days with him. The thought of taking any more advantage of Wade’s hospitality didn’t sit well with her—all she wanted was to find a place that was only for them.

  When they returned to the bike rental shop, Mike took care of everything but then excused himself to make a call. Taylor made small talk with the sales clerk regarding their tour, and she told him about all the pictures she had taken. It was so nice to be able to sit and talk to the shop owner. Mike reappeared moments later and she followed him to the car and climbed in. Her body was still humming with anticipation and she could sense Mike’s urgency to get back to the marina. She only hoped his urgency had to do with them and what they had shared in the park rather than getting back to the farm.

  He parked the car a little haphazardly in the marina parking lot and quickly climbed out. Taylor joined him and Mike took one of her hands, kissed her palm, and led the way back to the boat. She thought she knew what was going to happen—they were going to pack and get their things and head back to the car.

  “I’ll just be a minute,” she said and started toward her stateroom, but Mike didn’t release her hand. She turned to him questioningly. “I need to pack up my stuff so we can get on the road.”

  He pulled her toward him and then into the main living area, shutting the door. “We’re not getting on the road.”

  She arched a brow at him. “We’re not? But you said—”

  “I’ve made other arrangements.” His voice was deep and a little gruff. “Do you want to leave?” Taylor shook her head. “Good.”

  Without another word, he led her back to their stateroom and finished what they had started in the park.

  Repeatedly.

  Chapter 8

  Taylor never asked how it was that Mike had gotten them an extra night on the yacht, and to be honest, she didn’t care. After they had closed the door to the stateroom the night before, it was as if they were alone in the world. They had made love fast and furiously, letting their pent-up passion carry them away. And much later, Mike had taken her up to the control room, where he steered the boat out of the marina and far enough out into the water so they could drop anchor.

  And then he made love to her under the stars as he’d promised the day before.

  As they drove in companionable silence back to the farm, Taylor could only marvel at the man. He worked hard at everything he did, and he seemed to know how to do everything. She could only hope that Jonathan Wade appreciated all Mike did for him—she had a feeling she was going to mention that to the man when they were “off the record.”

  “Do you want to stop for lunch, or wait until we get home?” he asked, his eyes never leaving the road.

  The question struck her as a bit odd. Home? It could have been a slip of the tongue, but then it hit her how much she wished it were true. “I can wait until we get back to the farm,” she said with a lazy smile. Truth be known, she was exhausted. They hadn’t slept much the night before and she had a feeling that a nap was definitely in her future. At that thought, she yawned.

  “We’ve only got another thirty miles to go,” Mike said softly. “Why don’t you rest your eyes and I’ll wake you when we get there.”

  Her eyes were closed before he even finished speaking.

  * * *

  Mike’s voice brought her to wakefulness. He was standing next to her on the passenger side of the car with the door open. Taylor gave a catlike stretch and yawned. Her eyes felt too heavy to open and it was tempting to turn her head and continue sleeping. Without warning, Mike gently lifted her into his arms and carried her into the house. Snuggling into his warmth, she curled her arms around his neck as he closed the front door and continued up the stairs to the bedroom she had been using.

  Carefully, he placed her on the bed before closing the blinds and the curtains. Next, he came back to remove her shoe
s. Taylor made an attempt to sit up, but between the comfort of the bed and the dimness of the room, she decided to stay where she was. As her shoes hit the floor with a soft thud, Mike straightened to look at her, indecision written all over his face.

  “Thank you for a wonderful weekend,” she whispered, slowly propping herself up on her elbows.

  “You’re quite welcome.” Mike stood completely still, unsure of what to do or say next. There were chores to be done; he had a job. Responsibilities. Yet being here like this with Taylor made him want to forget everything else. He hadn’t thought that by now he would feel this strongly toward her—that he’d be a little more in control of his need for her. But as she looked up at him through sleepy eyes, all thoughts of what had to be done outside of this room vanished.

  She sat up fully now. “I really enjoyed the bike tour.”

  Memories of their time together on the boat came rushing back to him and without conscious thought, he placed one knee on the bed before allowing himself to cover Taylor’s body with his as he claimed her mouth. She went with him willingly, struggling to get as close to him as possible. “I know I should be letting you work,” she said breathlessly as his hands began to roam her body, “but I can’t.”

  “I’m not complaining,” he replied before cutting off any further conversation.

  Neither spoke beyond heated gasps and sighs of pleasure. Taylor greedily ran her hands over him. She leaned forward and rained tiny kisses along his chest and collarbone. Mike sucked in a breath as her tongue darted out to taste him.

  Stretching out beside her, he kissed her ravenously along her neck and jawline, but Taylor grew impatient. She gave a slight shove against his shoulders and sent him rolling onto his back, right before she threw her leg over and straddled him. She pulled her sweater over her head and off, keeping her eyes fully focused on Mike’s face the entire time.

  He reached his hands up and skimmed over the lace of her bra, and Taylor’s head fell back in sheer delight. He massaged, caressed, and with a growl of need, unclasped the front hook and freed her from the wispy garment. Leaning forward, she gave a wicked smile. “I think I’m a bad influence on you.”