by Lucy Monroe
He waited for her to go inside in silence.
Taking a deep breath, she moved forward, stepping into a nicely decorated suite. But it was the view through the wall of windows opposite the door that really impressed her.
The woman at the desk had said that all the rooms faced the ocean; what she hadn’t said was that the view was so spectacular or that it was showcased by such a huge expanse of windows.
Brett shut the door and she watched in bemusement while he secured the room with things he pulled from a bag he’d brought from the car. He probably didn’t even realize he was doing it, the security-conscious behavior was so second nature to him.
But one thing they did not have to worry about would be interruption at a key moment.
Then he turned to face her. “I want you, Claire. Now.”
She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She licked her lips, took a breath, and tried again. “I want you, too.”
The corner of his mouth tilted in a not-quite-there smile. “That’s good.”
Then he stepped forward and before she knew what was happening, she was in his arms, high against his chest and he was carrying her into the bedroom. It was cast in daytime shadows. He didn’t bother to turn on a light—the only illumination came through the latte-colored lace panels covering the sliding glass doors and huge window to one side of them.
But she had no problem seeing the look of desire etched in fierce relief on his features. The intensity of it put a sharper edge on the need slicing through her.
Making love with this man was going to be incredible. If there was a tiny voice in her head warning her that it might cost more emotionally than she had to give, she was prepared to ignore it. She’d been dealing with painful emotions all her life.
Never before had anyone offered her the kind of pleasure she knew could be found in his arms.
She grabbed his face and kissed him with a hunger she was done trying to control.
He responded with his own voracious passion and soon she was trying to rip his clothes from his body while he did the same to her without dropping her. The bed was right there, but they didn’t stop kissing long enough to get into it.
She couldn’t stop. All she wanted was more and more and more…more of his lips, more of his naked body to touch, and more of his taste in her mouth. His shirt came off with popping buttons and finally she had her fingers against his bare chest. She skimmed the satin-smooth skin and silky chest hair with her fingertips while he shoved her top up and somehow managed to get her bra undone to expose her aching and swollen breasts.
A raw, earthy sound came from deep in her throat when he cupped and squeezed one generous mound. Then he took her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and played with it until she felt like exploding from that simple touch. The peak was so hard, the pleasure sensations arrowing out from it to the rest of her body almost hurt.
She ate at his lips, determined not to be a dud at this. If he could pleasure her, she could pleasure him, too, and she concentrated on giving as good as she got. Paying attention to every nuance of his reaction to her touching, she concentrated on repeating every successful foray.
He liked having the brown disks around his turgid nipples tickled with her fingernails, so she did that and other stuff…all the while her own body notching higher and higher toward a supernova of pleasure. He got her pants and underwear off and she wrapped her legs around his waist, rubbing herself against the muscular ridges of his naked belly.
The scent of her own musk teased her nostrils as she chafed her slick, swollen labia and clitoris against his hard torso.
It was all the stimulation she needed to go over the edge—star bursts went off with shattering devastation inside her while she moaned a litany of pleasure into his mouth. He didn’t slow down in his touching at all, kneading her breasts with both hands now and dominating her mouth with hungry urgency. If anything, her climax drove him to a fever pitch and she found herself thrown back on the bed.
She didn’t have to think about what came next. She just put her arms out, welcoming him to her.
With a hoarse sound, he ripped out of his jeans and shorts and then came down on top of her, driving into her with a single, merciless thrust.
She cried out against his mouth, her body stiffening with shock at his penetration. He was big and he stretched her sensitive flesh to the point of pain, but all her fevered mind recognized was the amazing pleasure of having him joined with her so intimately.
He broke his lips from hers. “It’s all right, sugar. Relax.”
She stared up at him, her mind not taking the words in while her body started climbing toward that ultimate peak again. She didn’t know if she would survive another climax, but her intimate flesh wasn’t reacting to that fear. It was pressing for her to do something…anything.
Only she wasn’t moving.
He withdrew, pulling almost out and she gasped. “No! Don’t leave me.”
He laughed at that, the sound dark and not at all humorous. “I’m not going anywhere, but you need to relax or you aren’t going to enjoy this as much as I am.”
Was he serious? “If I enjoy it any more, it’ll kill me,” she croaked.
He pressed forward and finally the stasis on her limbs lifted. She arched up to meet him, welcoming him with voracious need into her body.
He grinned, the expression so feral it made her shiver. “That’s right, sugar. Move for me.”
She was only too happy to oblige him as she slammed her hips upward and ground her pelvis against his. He thrust into her, filling her completely and caressing every zinging nerve ending inside her channel with devastating intensity.
She grabbed his chest, kneading the hard muscles and reveling in the sensation of having this ultramasculine man so completely in tune with her.
He growled and increased his pace until she was shaking from the impact of his thrusts.
He looked down at her, his blue eyes burning with sexual need. “You are beautiful, Claire.”
Beautiful? Oh, no…that one word and emotion crashed through her like a five-alarm fire in a forest of tinder. Her heart contracted and it wasn’t from the primitive pleasure her body was wallowing in. He thought she was beautiful in her passion…not a computer geek, not a plain Jane…beautiful.
Oh, man, if what she was feeling inside wasn’t love, she didn’t want to know what emotion could power something else this profound. She wanted to make love until her body ached and his body gave out, but more than that…she wanted to look in his eyes, the windows to his soul, while she did it. And she wanted to hold him afterward, to be held by him.
While her heart wrestled with these new desires, strong masculine fingers locked onto her hips and she found herself held immobile while he pounded into her with driving force. Every surge of his hard penis felt so good that she gasped, and every time he pulled out, antithesis pleasure burst into shards through her most feminine flesh.
There was no warning…for either of them. The climax roared up and claimed them both in bone-shattering intensity. He shuddered above her while her body clenched around his and she stopped breathing altogether.
He collapsed on top of her, his big body continuing to jerk with aftereffects from their shared explosion. “That was amazing,” he whispered against her ear.
She had to force air in her lungs to respond. “Yes,” she wheezed.
“Damn…sugar, I knew you were going to be good, but I didn’t realize you were going to near kill me.”
She smiled, exhaustion rolling over her in an unstoppable wave. “Only fair…thought I might die there for a minute.”
“Good thing you didn’t.”
“Mmmm…” she mumbled as she slid inexorably toward sleep.
She’d never been so tired in her entire life, but then, she’d never put her body through such an experience, either.
Hotwire nuzzled Claire’s neck, kissing her softly. This felt so damn good. She was soft, tight, and blessed with a figu
re so beautiful it took his breath away. She was also sleeping.
Unable to believe the message his senses were getting, he lifted his head and looked down at her face. It was relaxed in the abandon of a replete woman exhausted by her lover.
He grinned.
He was going to tease her about going to sleep on him whenever he gave her a climax, but in a very non-PC way, he was filled with masculine pride at the thought of wearing her out from a single session of lovemaking. The little darling had climaxed so hard, her body had lifted his off the bed.
At the mere thought of how she arched and convulsed when she came, his semierect cock hardened inside her. It would take no provocation at all to change that condition to full arousal. Despite having experienced the best sex he had ever known, the hunger he felt for her had not abated.
On the contrary, now that his body knew the pleasure of touching and being inside her, it craved more.
His thoughts brought him up short. Had it been even better sex than he’d had with Elena? Impossible. He’d loved her. Time must have dulled his perception of the pleasure he’d found in her arms. It was hard to believe it had been more than six years. The memories even felt like memories now, not a fresh reliving of too much pain.
But there was nothing dull about the images in his mind from the past hour. They and the piercing pleasure they elicited were sharp and edgy. They were also bigger than simple sexual release and pure physical enjoyment. He’d had plenty of both of those in the last six years, but this feeling of intimacy afterward was different.
And it bothered him.
Had she felt the same? What was he going to do if she started thinking she’d fallen in love with him? He didn’t want their friendship destroyed by expectations he could not meet.
The problem was, he would get over these feelings, just like he’d gotten over any tender feelings he’d felt toward other women since Elena’s death. Okay, so maybe he’d never felt quite like this, but that didn’t mean it had any better chance at lasting than the other feelings had. He wouldn’t let it.
He’d made a promise to himself and to the woman he had loved, though she had not been alive to hear it. He’d never been tempted to break that promise, but he was now. He didn’t want to see Claire hurt.
You’re a little late with that worry, a cynical voice inside his head taunted him. Women were different from men. They got sex and emotions all tangled up, and what woman wouldn’t believe herself in love after sex that good?
His dick surged at the reminder, and satisfaction coursed through him despite the possible complications. Making love with Claire completely had been one for the record books. It had been so mind-blowing, he’d forgotten everything and he’d never done that—never been so oblivious to anything and everything but the feel of the woman in his arms.
He relived the sensation of her convulsing around him, of her inner flesh clamping his, and went iron hard inside of her. She moaned softly in her sleep and he groaned. A less scrupulous man would take advantage of the situation, especially with his memories of the way it had been only minutes before.
Exploding inside her scorching tightness had taken the top of his head off. His heat had added to hers and he had one of the longest orgasms of his life.
And then exactly what he had forgotten penetrated his consciousness and he went rigid above his sleeping lover.
Here he was, worrying like an adolescent with his first crush about feelings when he’d gone and done the unforgivable.
He’d forgotten the frigging condom.
How could he have been so stupid?
He’d remembered a glove every time he’d had sex since he was sixteen. Even when he and Elena had made love, he’d never once forgotten.
Cold chills washed over him as he berated himself for his stupidity. He had wanted to make it perfect for her and he couldn’t have screwed up more badly than if he’d planned it. His sperm were swimming in her private pool right now and one of the little suckers could already have scored.
Claire could be pregnant with his baby.
The possible consequence was a lot less jarring than the realization of his error. Despite what she seemed to think, Claire would make an incredible mother. And the thought of her round with his child was an even bigger turn-on than memories of their intimacy. He was a hair’s breadth from coming again and he hadn’t even moved.
He willed his hard-on into submission as he considered Claire’s reaction to his mistake. What if she was pregnant? She would not take possible single-motherhood in her stride.
Her life with her own mom had been too harsh.
And while she alone understood why, she doubted her abilities in that area. She’d questioned her suitability for motherhood as part of a parental unit; how much stronger would those insecurities be in the face of an accidental pregnancy? Understandably, she would want to give her baby the best of everything, including a whole family unit…a real home. Things he’d promised a dead woman he would never have.
Or had he? His promise to Elena had been that he would never love another woman like he had loved her.
In his mind that had meant he would never marry, never have kids. No woman would settle for his body without his heart.
But Claire had accepted him as her lover without protestations of love. Though he had to admit that in light of their circumstances, if she did equate incredible sex with that emotion, it might not be such a bad thing after all.
Her loving him could make it easier to do what he knew she would consider acting on the best alternative. But even if she didn’t love him, she would want to give the best to her baby. Her own heart’s involvement wouldn’t be as important to her as doing that. He was sure of it.
A band that had been tightening around his chest since Claire fell asleep in his arms loosened. He could keep his promise to Elena and still do the right thing by Claire. They could have a good life.
He was sure she’d see things the same way.
Chapter 14
C laire woke up to a slight throbbing between her legs and an unfamiliar inner sense of well-being that made her lips curl in pleasure before she opened her eyes. When she did, she discovered she was alone in a big bed. A deep sense of satiation and rightness permeated her as the late evening light of summer filtered through the lace curtains.
It was a beautiful room and the bed was deliciously comfortable. She stretched, luxuriating in the knowledge she had no more exams to study for, no job to go to. She could go back to sleep if she wanted to, or laze in the bed daydreaming until Brett came looking for her.
It was such a decadent feeling, lying naked in the oversized bed with no commitments pressing. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so free of encumbrances. So happy. She wasn’t sure she ever had.
She had spent years taking care of her mom both before and after the cancer struck. She’d gone straight to college after Noreen’s death, too…not taking even a full month off before trading one all-consuming workload for another one. She’d worked whatever hours were necessary to achieve her goals, both at school studying and at the jobs she took to support herself.
She had made love to Brett and, strangely enough, knowing there were no commitments for the future linked to it was peaceful rather than stressful. Before, when she’d had sex, the lack of reciprocal commitment had always hurt, but she didn’t owe anyone but herself anything right now.
And she liked that. Brett only wanted the pleasure of sex and she wanted that, too.
For once in her life she was going to do nothing but enjoy…for however long that lasted. She was not going to worry about the future or holding on to Brett when he was ready to let go. He’d told her what to expect and instead of lamenting it now that they had made love, a big part of her was wallowing in the knowledge that she hadn’t given more of herself away than she wanted to.
For the very simple reason that Brett had made it clear he didn’t want it. No future. No commitments.
Freedom.
/> What an awesome concept.
Contrarily, the knowledge she didn’t have to move made her want to. She wanted to see Brett, not to cling to him out of emotional neediness…but simply to be with him.
Only there was no sign of him in the room and no light coming from the bathroom. Nor did she hear anything from the outer room. Which did not mean he wasn’t in the suite. The man could be as silent as smoke when he wanted to be.
She scooted into a sitting position and winced at the slight ache in muscles used differently than they had been in a very long time. A shower was no doubt in order, but for a few brief seconds, she allowed herself to wallow with happy abandon in the fact that Brett had made love to her.
Thoroughly.
Passionately.
And beautifully.
He was a thrilling lover, completely wild with his carnality and capable of sparking the same reaction in her. No woman could ask for more in the man she chose to share her body with. She could still hear his shout of release echoing in her head.
Wow. If she’d ever known that sex could be so wonderful, she wouldn’t have dismissed it as unimportant in her life…that was for sure. But then, could it have been this life-altering with any other man?
Somehow, she didn’t think so.
Which was a slightly sobering thought. Was it complete freedom if she only experienced it with one man?
Dismissing the question as irrelevant in the face of more happy feelings than she’d ever experienced in one sitting, she climbed from the bed and spied a thick white hotel robe laying neatly across the bottom corner. She pulled it on and went looking for Brett, but he was nowhere in the suite.
A note on the dining table told her that he’d gone to pick up some necessary items for spending the night. She hoped one of the things he was getting was a canister of tea. She could really use some right now.
There was a silver teakettle on the stove and she wondered if maybe the suite came equipped for it. She searched the cupboards and found a fully equipped kitchen but no food. However, in the last cupboard she discovered a small basket filled with tea bags and enough coffee for two pots. Perfect. She put the water on to boil and took a shower while it was heating.
