“It’s a wonder your father isn’t fat.”
She chuckled comfortably. “He can eat and eat and eat without ever putting on an extra pound. He and Mom were made for each other.”
Adrian stole a glance at her smiling face. He was beginning to believe that Lucy was made for him, but he was far from sure she reciprocated the feeling. He had noticed today that she’d evaded his touch a couple of times when he had lifted a hand to lay it on the small of her back. She hadn’t wanted to be claimed in any visible way in front of her family. That didn’t strike him as a good sign.
They reached her house, and he braced himself for her to peck him on the cheek and claim to be so tired, she’d better not sit on the porch swing with him tonight.
He pulled into the driveway, set the emergency brake, and turned off the ignition. In the sudden silence his heartbeat quickened. He had the stricken feeling that the next few moments mattered terribly, that she was on the verge of telling him something he didn’t want to hear. He turned in his seat to look at her, willing her to say, “It’s such a nice night, why don’t we sit outside for a while?”
Say it, he willed her. Or, “Would you like another cup of coffee before you go?”
Instead, she took a very deep breath and turned, too, so that she faced him. In the dim light, cast by a streetlamp fifty yards away, he couldn’t make out her expression. But her eyes were dark, and he did see her open her mouth as if to speak, close it again, hesitate, then try again.
Her words tumbled out. “Would you like to come in?”
Say, “How about a cup of coffee?” Or, “It’s such a nice night...”
He blinked. “What?”
“I know it’s late and if you don’t want to come in—”
“I want to,” he said hastily. “Of course I do.” Was she kidding? He’d go anywhere with her.
Now and forever.
God. Was he crazy? He hadn’t known her long enough to be thinking things like this.
Her breath escaped in a tiny gasp. “Okay.”
Wait. Why was she nervous, if this was merely a casual invitation? And she definitely was nervous.
“Is this just for coffee? Or...?”
“Well...” She clutched the bowl as if it were a baby she was protecting with her life. “I was thinking or.” She pressed her lips together. “Even though Sam will know if you’re even the smallest bit late, never mind stay out all night, and then the whole family will know. Unless I plead with her.” Her voice firmed. “I can do that. I’ll call her in the morning. Someday she’ll want a secret kept, too.”
“Why am I a secret?” He had to know, even though his heart was slamming in his chest and all he wanted to do was kiss her.
“Wouldn’t you want your sex life private from your family? Especially if there were so many of them, and they all liked to gossip?”
“Yes,” Adrian admitted. “I would. The sex part. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to keep me a secret.”
He couldn’t see her well enough to be sure, but he suspected she was rolling her eyes. “I took you to Sunday dinner, didn’t I?”
“Yeah.” Suddenly, he didn’t give a damn about her family, or their gossip, or about tomorrow at all. He just wanted that giant bowl to not be between them. He unhooked his seat belt and hers. “Let’s go in.” His voice sounded raw to his ears. “Now.”
Their car doors opened simultaneously, but he was faster. They met on her side, the bowl still between them, but who was noticing?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LUCY’S LAST THOUGHT before he kissed her was, Please, please, don’t let me be sorry I did this once he’s gone.
Then his mouth closed over hers with such raw hunger, she quit thinking at all. Or at least not very coherently. Instead, she kissed him back.
Somehow she held on to that big serving bowl. It even made it inside, if not to the kitchen. The minute the front door closed behind them, Adrian took the bowl from her. She had no idea what he did with it. He was back, impatient and oh, so male, before she could wonder.
They shed jacket and sweatshirt right there in the entry. Then he groaned and pulled her up against him, his hands gripping her buttocks, so that she couldn’t help feeling his erection. She flung her arms around his neck. Instead of kissing her immediately, though, he searched her eyes.
“I want you,” he said, in an odd, rough voice. “You’re sure about this?”
Lucy bit her lip and, after only the smallest of hesitations, nodded. “Just a little nervous.”
“Why?”
She thought she ought to warn him. “I’m not very experienced.”
He went completely still. “You’re a virgin?”
Lucy shook her head. “No, I had a couple of different boyfriends in college. I was trying to live wild, you see. But...well, it was just a few times, and—” She stopped.
“And?”
“Um...not that exciting.”
“Ah.” He relaxed. One of his hands moved from her butt up her spine, leaving a trail of fireworks behind it. “We’ll have to try to improve on that.”
On a burst of nerves and enthusiasm, she blurted, “I did sort of think it would be different with you.”
Momentarily his hand paused and his eyes narrowed. “So this is in the nature of an experiment?” That rough, raw quality to his voice was gone; instead he sounded carefully neutral.
She must have annoyed him, Lucy realized, but she wasn’t quite sure how. It wasn’t an insult to let him know that she assumed he had way more experience and skill in bed, was it?
Feeling a little indignant, she said, “If I’d wanted to experiment, I wouldn’t have gone so long without...you know.”
“So why me?”
“You’re different,” she said simply. “I’ve never felt like I do when you kiss me.”
He smiled, all charm and something that made her heart squeeze. “Good,” he murmured. “You’re different, too.”
Of course, she wasn’t different at all, unless he meant rustic or unsophisticated. He was just being nice, which she appreciated. And he did want her. She couldn’t be mistaken about that.
“Bedroom upstairs?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Shall we do this in style?”
“What do you mean—?” She hadn’t finished, when he lifted her high and her legs closed in panic around his waist. Her sandals dropped to the floor. She squeaked and grabbed tight. “I can walk!”
“But then I’d have to set you down.” With one large hand he kneaded her hip, while the other hand gripped her nape. “And you feel good like this.” He captured her mouth with his.
Oh, it did feel good wrapped around him like this. Her hips rocked; he groaned and thrust his tongue into her mouth.
Somehow he did make it up the stairs with her in his arms. He’d wrench his mouth from hers and climb a couple of steps, then back her against the wall and kiss her as if he needed her taste more than he’d ever needed anything in his life.
By the time they reached her bedroom, Lucy couldn’t have stood on her own two legs if her life had depended on it. She trembled, aching to have him inside her.
He laid her on the bed and followed her down, planting a knee between her thighs, still kissing her even as his hand slid under her T-shirt. He stroked her belly and closed his hand over her breast, squeezing. Her nipples had hardened and pressed against his palm. If only her bra were front-opening! When she made a sound of frustration, he growled in response and pulled her to a sitting position.
Lucy lifted her arms and let him peel off the shirt, then he unclasped her bra and tossed it aside. She’d never thought much about her breasts; after all, she only wore a B cup. But Adrian looked at her with hot gray eyes that made her feel sexy.
A little shyly, she reached out and tugged his shirt up in turn. He let her pull it off. He had a glorious chest: broad and powerful without being overmuscled, the dark hair silky under her questing hands. In her curiosity, the urgency had abated, and Adrian seemed willing to let her explore. He touched her, and she touched him. He nuzzled her breasts and suckled them in turn; she kissed his chest and licked the base of his throat where she felt his pulse hammering. Lucy loved the salty taste of his skin and did it again.
He tried to laugh, but she heard the desperation in it. He said, “Maybe the next time,” which she didn’t understand, and pushed her onto her back. The ache in her lower belly was back, and the feel of him unzipping her jeans was almost unbearable. He pulled her panties off with the jeans.
Lucy couldn’t help herself. Her thighs pressed together and her hands went down to cover herself. Adrian laughed again, but shakily. “You’re beautiful, sweetheart. Don’t be shy.”
“I—I can’t help it,” she whispered.
“Would it help if I take my pants off?”
She might be even more self-conscious, but she nodded anyway, shockingly eager to see him. Adrian pulled back from her far enough to shed his khakis and shoes. Lucy’s belly cramped at the sight of him. She was sure neither of her college boyfriends had been anywhere near as large. That should have frightened her but instead was awfully exciting.
He laid down on the bed beside her, on his side facing her. “Touch me,” he said, his voice guttural.
Lucy stole a glance upward at his face. His eyes still had that molten look, as if heat burned inside him. He nodded once. She put her hands on his chest again. That felt almost safe. Except that he was very warm, and his heart hammered so hard it seemed to resonate through her. And the way his muscles jumped as her hands moved downward gave her a heady sense of power.
When she finally touched him there, his whole body spasmed. Her exploration didn’t last very long. All of a sudden he pushed her onto her back and rose above her. “Sorry, sweetheart. I can’t take any more.”
Somehow he was the one exploring now, his hands sliding up her legs, tickling the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Her legs were splayed wantonly apart with no conscious order from her. When his fingers curled in her pubic hair, her hips rose from the bed in an agony of wanting. He parted moist flesh and stroked, with her gripping his shoulders so hard her fingernails must have been digging in.
The tension rose in her belly, coiled exquisitely tight, driven as much by the sight of the expression on his face as by his touch. “Adrian?” Her voice shook. “I want you. Not just—”
“This?” His fingers drew circles.
“Please!” she gasped.
He made a raw sound and turned away. The sound of ripping made her realize he’d come prepared. Thank goodness. During the drive, she’d thought about asking, then forgot in the enormity of the decision. She should have bought some condoms, but she’d have had to drive to Sequim to do it. That was the trouble with a town where everyone knew you.
He was back so quickly she didn’t have time to feel anything but gratitude. He stroked her again and again, pressing, pressing... No, not with his hands, they were cupping her face as he looked into her eyes and pushed slowly forward, deeper. Her breath snagged in her throat as he filled her. The sensation was amazing, exactly what she’d needed. She lifted her hips to meet him and breathed a high, “Ooh!” that would have embarrassed her at any other moment.
Every muscle in his back was rigid with restraint. His teeth bared as he paused, buried in her. Lucy closed her eyes, savored the feeling, then rocked just enough to let him know she was ready for more.
He pulled out slowly, then thrust again a little harder, a little faster. It felt so good. No, amazing. Her fingers dug into his back. Out, in, each thrust more powerful, more urgent. His chest vibrated with a groan. Lucy whimpered.
Oh, yes. She felt like a bomb with the spark racing down the fuse toward her body. She could all but see it behind her eyelids, a flare of fire crackling, almost there, almost...
She imploded, a wave of pleasure that thundered through her like a tsunami beyond anything she’d ever felt.
He let go a second later, slamming into her, his body shuddering, a groan escaping against her cheek as he pressed his open mouth to it.
Lucy held on tight and rode the wave, high on it even as it tumbled her dizzyingly over and over.
The tsunami washed out slowly, leaving tingles and ripples in its wake. Lucy lay boneless beneath him, feeling both drained and utterly relaxed and energized all at once. A secret smile curved her mouth.
Now that was an adventure!
Adrian rolled at last, taking her along so that she sprawled atop him. When she lifted her head to look down at his face, he grinned at her. “So. Was it different?”
“Yes! Oh, yes! I had no idea.” She marveled. “Was it my fault before? Or the guys’ fault?”
He laughed, the skin beside his eyes crinkling, and she could see he felt a little smug. “Sex is rarely as good as that was. Rarely? Try never. What we just did takes...”
When he paused, she filled in silently. Love. It takes love.
“Chemistry,” Adrian finished. “Something special.”
Love.
As quickly as joy had swelled in her chest, it evaporated, leaving her so sad she hid her face against his neck so that he wouldn’t see.
His hand stroked idly down her back, kneading here, teasing there, learning her contours.
“God, I wish I didn’t have to go back to Seattle,” he muttered suddenly.
Lucy bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. She had an intense inner struggle to master herself, then lifted her head. “Oh? Are you having to go back right away?”
“Tomorrow morning. I’ve stayed longer than I should.” His hand kept moving, pressing harder, imbued it seemed with some of the same tension she now felt. “I’ll be back next weekend, I promise, but I have to show my face at the firm.”
“Oh. What if your mother...?”
“Wakes up? She’ll do it with me or without me.” He sounded grim, either because he was convincing himself his mother didn’t really need him at all, or because he hated the idea of her opening her eyes when he wasn’t here to greet her.
Lucy nodded, wordless, even though she couldn’t imagine being in his position and heading back to work as though the mother he’d sought for over half his life wasn’t about to emerge from a coma.
Maybe, she thought doubtfully, he didn’t care as much as she’d wanted to believe he did. Maybe he was fighting the fact that he did care more than he was comfortable with.
Or maybe she was being naive. After all, it wasn’t reasonable for him to risk his position at the law firm and with his clients so that he could linger indefinitely in Middleton, holding his unconscious mother’s hand.
Yes, that was it, she decided. Wanted to believe. He was just being...realistic.
And he did say he’d be back next weekend. So he wasn’t cutting and running now that he’d gotten what he wanted from her.
She gave a nod and what she meant to be an accepting smile. He searched her face, his own suddenly taut with...she didn’t know. Frustration? Desire? Even anger?
At me? Lucy wondered, before he growled something under his breath and pulled her head down so that he could kiss her with a hunger as desperate as if they hadn’t just made love.
It seemed he wanted her again. She hadn’t thought people did it again so soon after the first time, but her body responded with startling enthusiasm. She might be heartsick, but oh, she wanted him while she had him here, with her. And he must feel the same, because before she knew it he was swearing and fumbling for another condom, and she was completely ready.
Apparently, Lucy discovered that night, sexual satisfaction was only temporary. And peo
ple could not only make love again right away, but they could also do it three times. And, after a little sleep, a fourth time.
Sleep wasn’t nearly as important as she’d thought it was.
* * *
LUCY PUT A brave face on it, but Adrian could tell she was shocked by his departure the next morning. He’d been warning her that he’d have to go, but she’d evidently convinced herself that he would stay at his mother’s side however long it took her to wake up.
If she woke up.
His faith was eroding. Yeah, her coma had become lighter. But he’d seen no change in days now. Sure, she twitched and even seemed to flinch from bright light, but did that necessarily mean she hadn’t suffered acute brain damage? Reflexes weren’t the same thing as the conscious self that made a person individual. Yes, there were stories about people who’d been in comas for months or even years waking up and being themselves again, but they were the exceptions. Newsworthy. What were the chances his mother would be one of them?
Unlike him, Lucy would never give up hope. Her tenacity was one of the qualities that made her so different from anyone else he’d ever known.
That had made him fall in love with her.
She’d insisted on making breakfast. Staying to eat it prolonged the misery of the goodbye, in his opinion, but he couldn’t deny her anything. She chattered, and he did his best to respond without being able, an hour later, to remember a single thing either of them had said. He was willing to bet she couldn’t, either.
Behind her smile, she looked so forlorn when she walked him to the door, he felt as if someone was clawing his chest open. It hurt, kissing her one more time then walking to his car. He’d wondered briefly if he was having a heart attack.
At the inn, Samantha gave him a look he ignored. He went upstairs and packed, then came down and settled his bill. Her expression relaxed slightly when he reserved the same room for Friday and Saturday night the coming weekend, and he realized she’d been indignant on her sister’s behalf.
The Trouble with Joe Page 37
