He grabbed the fork away from her and speared the éclair with it, causing the custard to seep out. Then when the fork toppled over, it jarred the plate and sent the cannoli rolling onto the floor.
Ignoring the mess he’d made, he nudged her down, slid his hand under her skirt and kissed her deep, causing her pulse to skyrocket.
He used his fingers, making her wet, teasing her with his foreplay. He didn’t stop, not until he flipped up her skirt in one fell swoop.
“Do you want more, Soph?”
“Yes.” Please, yes. Her modesty was all but gone. She was fully exposed to his view.
He went after her blouse. “Let’s finish getting you naked first.” Her bra came next. Then her skirt. He blew air over her stomach as he pulled it off. “Now I can ravage you for real.” He lifted her legs onto his shoulders and pulled her against his mouth.
She tunneled her hands through his hair, the intensity of his touch rippling through her. He used his tongue like a warm, slick weapon: he licked; he swirled; he stabbed; he kissed.
Sweet heaven, he was good at this.
A waxy scent from the candles filled the room. She inhaled the aroma, flames dancing to and fro.
He glanced up at her, making the connection stronger. She kept her eyes open, wanting to see him, too. Steeped in sensation, she leaned forward, putting her fingers near his mouth. She wanted to touch the source of all that wicked pleasure.
So much warmth, so much wetness.
Sophie couldn’t have stopped the orgasm if she tried. She came in a series of long, gasping shudders.
Tommy waited until the last wave subsided before he sat up.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that to you?” He spoke softly, sexily.
She was too hazy to respond. Her mind had gone numb. She could barely move, barely think.
He undid the button on his trousers, and her brain kicked back into gear. She took a thrill-seeking peek at the bulge pressing against his zipper.
“This is going to be a first for me,” he said.
She adjusted her line of sight, zeroing in on his handsome, sharply defined face. “A first what?” she asked, her voice coming out raspy.
“I’ve never been with anyone without protection.” He removed his shirt and tossed it onto the floor. “But tonight I’ll be skin-to-skin with you.”
A newly awakened pulse fluttered between her legs. “I’ve never done it that way, either.” She’d always insisted that her lovers use condoms. Not just for birth control, but to stay safe in other ways, too. “Do you think we’ll notice a difference?”
“I don’t know. But we’re about to find out.” He ditched his pants, peeling off his crisp white briefs with them.
He was big and hard, beautifully endowed and already beading at the tip. She reached down to stroke him. When she spread the moisture in gentle little circles, she felt him shiver.
He touched her, as well, roaming his hands along her curves. He climbed on top of her, fondling her breasts and licking her nipples. She opened her legs, making more room for him, and he lifted his head.
They looked into each other’s eyes. By now, he was poised at the juncture of her thighs.
“My Sophie,” he said.
Her heart pounded. “I’m not supposed to belong to you.”
“It’s just for tonight. And every other day or night that we’re together.” He skimmed his mouth over hers, whispering against her lips. “Then it’ll be over.”
She wrapped her arms around him, and he entered her. But he didn’t move. He just stayed there, letting both of them savor the moment.
“It does feel different,” she said. There was an unsheathed closeness she couldn’t deny—warmth of the most intimate degree.
“Oh, yeah.” He pushed deeper. “Oh, hell, yeah.” He angled his hips for their mutual pleasure. “I’m going to try to make this last, but it still might happen fast.”
She met his gaze. He already had a feral gleam in his eye, his hair falling rebelliously over his forehead.
“But you’re going to come lots of times tonight,” he continued, nipping her earlobe.
“Promise?” She was more than ready, eager and willing.
“Definitely.” He rocked her body with his, setting a passionate rhythm.
Holding him to his promise, Sophie dug her nails deeper, eager to take every mind-spinning, heart-hammering, love-making thrust he gave her.
Five
The reality of being with Sophie went beyond Tommy’s expectations. He couldn’t get enough. He wanted more and more of her, of this feeling. Every nerve ending in his body had come alive, sparking beneath his skin. She matched him stroke for stroke, lifting her hips and taking him deeper.
In his mind’s eye she was part feline, a beautiful hellcat, using his back as a scratching post. Even her hair—that pretty braid and the messy strands falling around it—drove him crazy.
She moaned, and he rolled over the bed, taking her with him and tangling the sheets. He changed positions, so she was on top. He wanted her to ride him as wildly as he’d been riding her. It was her turn to buck and spin.
She didn’t miss a beat. She straddled his lap, moving up and down, giving him a cowboy’s thrill. He watched her, captivated by the fullness of her breasts, the flatness of her stomach and roundness of her hips. Tommy gripped her waist, and she bit her lip in naughty concentration. Then he reared up, putting his face next to hers. They kissed on contact. The exchange was sloppy, but deeply carnal, too. He slipped his hand between their bodies and rubbed her where it counted.
The kiss ended with a jolt of electricity, and she latched on to his shoulders. Was she anchoring herself for the orgasm that was building inside her?
“I can’t... This is...” She struggled to speak.
She couldn’t what? Stay grounded while she came? He rubbed her a little softer, a little sweeter, giving her a moment to breathe. She slowed down the pace, riding him in a more languid way. Like silk over skin, he thought.
Sophie came softly, her lashes fluttering, her body shimmying. Tommy skimmed her cheek, so damn glad she was his friend. He couldn’t imagine a world where she wasn’t in it.
When the final wave subsided, she put her head on his shoulder. He eased her down, switching positions again. She looked up at him, and he reentered her.
A new dance. A new awakening.
No matter how fast or slow or easy or frantic their rhythm was, it worked. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he pumped into her. They were compatible as lovers, even though this could never last beyond their attempts to conceive.
They kissed and caressed and made hungry sounds. By now, he knew every lovely inch of her, mapping her for pleasure. He made her come another time, pleased with how responsive she was. But finally, Tommy needed a release, too.
So damn badly.
On the heels of Sophie’s most recent orgasm, his muscles went taut, as his mind was consumed with lust. He inhaled the scent of sex, her heat mingling with his. He caught a misty veil of her lingering perfume, too.
So light, so pretty.
As his vision fogged, he gazed at Sophie, trying to keep her in his sights. She seemed to be watching him, too, in the same blurred way he watched her.
Tommy came, feeling strong and invigorated, knowing his seed was spilling deep and warm inside her.
After he was spent, he kissed her, then fell into her arms. She stroked a hand down his back, soothing the scratches she’d put there.
A few beats later, he rolled off her. But he remained close, right beside her, where he intended to stay for the rest of the night.
He trailed a hand along the flare of her hip and asked, “Do you want to finish dessert now?”
“Thanks, but I’m good.” She stretched, as agile as the hellcat she’d become in his mind. �
�I should probably leave soon, anyway.”
He frowned at her. “What are you talking about?”
She sat up and held the sheet against her. “I left my bag in the car, in case I decided not to spend the night.”
“And now you decided to go home? Come on, Soph. Don’t leave.”
“But I don’t want to get too cozy, to make too much of this.”
He tried to persuade her to stay once again. “There’s nothing wrong with a little coziness. Afterglow is supposed to be this way, isn’t it?”
“Yes. But this isn’t a real relationship, and we already did what I came here to do.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to dash off in the dark.”
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to stay.” Her expression softened. “I’m just a little nervous, cuddling with you like this. It’s all so new.”
“There’s nothing to fret about. We both know the rules, and a little cuddling isn’t going to change anything.”
“Then I’ll have to go to the car and get my things.”
Because he didn’t trust her to skip out on him, he said, “I’ll get it in a while. And don’t worry if there’s anything you forgot to pack. I’ve got plenty of toiletries you can use. I’m well stocked with guest supplies.”
“Right. The big bad musician and all of his overnight guests.” She shook her head. “I shudder to think of how many women have slept in this very same bed with you.”
“You knew who and what I was when you agreed to be with me.”
She made a face. “Boy, did I ever. But I only agreed because of the baby.”
“Yeah, and I’m still the best guy for the job.” He tried to ease the tension by tugging on her braid.
She poked a finger into his ribs. “There you go, being conceited.”
“About me being the right guy for the job? That’s just a fact. And you know what else? I should make you eat the rest of the pie you teased me with. You and your seduction trick with the panties.” He feigned offense. “It was shameful.”
“Really? Well, I should make you eat the éclair you took a stab at with your fork. Look at that poor thing.”
He glanced over at the nightstand. The éclair was a bit of a disaster. The pie looked sort of pathetic, too. The cannoli was definitely a lost cause, smooshed up on the floor. “The tart hasn’t been touched. Maybe I’ll eat that instead.”
“You can’t wolf it down without giving me some.”
“I thought you didn’t want any more dessert.”
“That was before you convinced me to stay the night.” She practically pushed him out of bed. “Go get it and bring it over here.”
“One romp in the hay, and I almost forgot how bossy you can be.” Amused, he leaned over to kiss her.
She returned the favor, and they tasted each other with their tongues. A minute later, he grabbed the tart, along with both forks. They sat cross-legged on the bed, bare-ass naked, sharing the treat.
Tommy smiled and stole a strawberry from Sophie’s side of the tart. She nudged him away, and he laughed, immersed in the long-awaited exhilaration of this moment.
* * *
Sophie was glad that she hadn’t gone home. It was still strange, though, to be snuggled in Tommy’s bed. But at least she didn’t feel the urge to escape. Odd as it was, she was enjoying their postsex rapport.
“Do you think we made it happen?” he asked, gesturing to her stomach with his chin.
“Your guess is as good as mine. But it can take some time.”
“A guy can hope.” He lifted one shoulder in a brawny shrug. “Will you feel anything right away if it does happen?”
“I have no idea.” She smiled and ate more of the tart. “This is yummy.”
“I wonder what food cravings you’ll get. My mom said she used to crave Mississippi mud pie when she was pregnant with me. But I think she made that up because I was always covered in mud when I was a kid.”
She remembered being covered in it with him, especially after a good hard rain. “Actually, mud pie is a great craving. I could do worse.”
“Wouldn’t it be funny if you craved me?”
She glanced up from her fork. “What?”
“I was just saying that it’d be funny if you craved me instead of some sort of food. But I’ll be off-limits by then, so you better have me out of your system before you’re waddling around with my donor bun in the oven.”
“Your donor bun?” She laughed. Sometimes he had the goofiest way with words.
He laughed, too. “You know what I meant.”
Yes, she did, indeed. And she agreed about getting him out of her system. When this was over, she needed to be done with him. No more sex. No more cozy afterglows.
They finished the tart, and he set aside the tin. After that, he propped a pillow and leaned against it.
Struck by his nonchalant pose, she said, “Just so you’re aware, pregnancy doesn’t make women crave men. So you better get that thought out of your head.”
He shrugged. “You might be the exception.”
Lord, she hoped not. She didn’t want to crave him after she was pregnant. It was bad enough wanting him now. In the silence that followed, her mind spiraled in a new direction, one she hadn’t expected to take. And just like that, she asked, “What’s Kara like?”
Tommy merely stared at her. “What?”
Sophie couldn’t blame him for his reaction. She had sprung the question on him; she wasn’t even sure why she’d asked it. “I was just wondering what kind of person she is. With all this pregnancy talk, it made me think of her, I guess.”
He sighed. “Truthfully, I hardly know anything about her, except she’s a bartender at the Miami hotel where we hooked up. It was such a quick thing, we didn’t spend a lot of time chatting each other up. But I can tell you this much—I don’t think she wanted her baby to be mine. I called her after the DNA results came in, just to see how she was doing, and she sounded relieved that I’d been eliminated as the possible father.”
She contemplated Kara’s plight. “Maybe she cares about the man who turned out to be the real father. That could be the reason she didn’t go to the press.”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I didn’t ask her about him. I didn’t think it was my place. But calling her still seemed like the right thing to do.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Should I get your bag now?”
The quick change of topic threw her, but she understood how it was a sensitive subject for him. “Sure. My keys are in my purse.” She stood up to get them while he climbed into a pair of sweat shorts he removed from a drawer.
“You can blow out the candles while I’m gone,” he said.
“Okay.” They certainly couldn’t leave them burning all night. “They were a nice touch, Tommy.”
He smiled and came over to kiss her. She melted from the sensation, from the taste of his lips, then warned herself to stop being so girlie. But darn it, being close to him felt good. For now, she told herself it didn’t matter. As soon as she conceived, their intimacy would end.
He left the room, and she extinguished the candles. Keeping busy, she picked up their clothes from the floor and placed them on a chair. Without thinking, she put on his shirt and rolled up the sleeves. She buttoned it, too, keeping the fabric next to her bare skin. She was being girlie again. But she didn’t want to remove it.
When Tommy returned, Sophie was clearing the table and stacking the dishes in a rack on the bottom of the salad cart.
He set her bag near the bed and dropped her keys back into her purse. “Look at you,” he said, roaming his gaze over her.
Yes, look at her, traipsing around in his shirt. “I was just borrowing this for a second.” She fingered the hem. “But I can put my robe on now. It’s in my bag.”
He approached her. “You can stay like that. It looks better on yo
u than it does on me. And you don’t have to fuss with the dishes. I was going to do that.”
“It’s all right. When I’m finished, you can wheel the carts into the hallway and call the kitchen to have someone pick them up.” She knew that was Tommy’s habit when he dined in his suite. It was similar to being in a five-star hotel.
After everything was done and the room was clear, Sophie said, “I’m going to remove my makeup and get ready for bed.”
“I have to do that, too. Not the makeup part. But I need to brush my teeth and whatnot.”
They went into the bathroom together. Since it had been designed for Tommy and his lovers, there was lots of elegant space for separate routines.
He finished before she did, but he didn’t return to the bedroom. He sat on the edge of the freestanding tub and observed her every move, making her self-conscious. But she liked it, too. The forbidden feeling of him watching her.
She went ahead and said, “I heard rumors that you were a voyeur or something.”
“Not the way you’re suggesting. I’m not a Peeping Tom or anything.” He smiled his crooked smile. “Get it? Tom? Tommy?”
Of course she got it. She reached for her moisturizer and asked, “Then what do the rumors mean, exactly?”
He moved his gaze up and down her body. “I just think it’s sexy when my lovers...you know...”
Touch themselves and let him watch? Sophie clutched the bottle in her hand, holding it tighter than necessary. What he’d just implied was her deepest, darkest fantasy. The manner in which she often imagined being watched.
Should she tell him? Should she admit it? No, she thought. She would rather keep it a secret, especially since she wasn’t brave enough to actually do it.
She looked in the mirror and saw that her skin was flushed. Of all things, she was blushing. Her nipples were hard beneath her shirt, too. Or Tommy’s shirt, as it were. But thankfully, it was baggy enough to conceal what was happening. She didn’t want him to know how this was making her feel.
She hurried up and finished her routine. She didn’t even take her hair out of its braid. It was easier to just get the heck out of the bathroom.
Nashville Rebel Page 6
