by Sara Orwig
He didn’t see Lara again before he left, but tonight they would go dancing and he would be with her all evening. He had plans for afterward, too. He had already gotten a hotel room so they would not have to worry about driving back to the ranch.
* * *
Lara had more fun than she’d had the first time. This time, some of the guys politely asked her to dance. She suspected they did so to be nice to the boss’s new wife, but she accepted their offers nonetheless. The evening was fun, but it was Marc who took her breath away. Tonight, his navy Western shirt was open at the throat. He had a hand-tooled leather belt with a big silver belt buckle that she suspected he’d won in a rodeo. He was charming and exciting, and when they drove to the hotel, her heart raced because she knew they would kiss.
She was supposed to be guarding her heart, so what was she doing going dancing with him and kissing him?
She had the perfect answer to that nagging voice inside her head. She wasn’t in love with him and she hadn’t gone to bed with him. As long as she could honestly say she wasn’t in love, she would be okay. There’d be no heartbreak in her future.
When they walked up to her room, he took her key and opened her door. She entered and turned to say something to him but forgot her words when she looked up at him. His brown eyes held so much desire, she felt weak in the knees.
“You’re gorgeous, Lara. I want you,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him for a heated kiss.
Kissing him in return, their tongues stroking, stirring sensations that made her moan with pleasure, she held him tightly. His waist was narrow and she could feel his hard arousal pressing against her through his thick jeans. She wanted him, too. She wanted his kisses, his hands on her, his mouth on her.
His arms tightened around her as he kissed her. In minutes he had her red blouse unbuttoned and pushed open. He unfastened her bra and cupped her breasts in his warm hands. As his thumbs circled each taut point, he stepped back to look at her.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “I want to make love to you all night.”
“Marc, you know where that will lead.”
“We’re married. I’m your husband. You’re already pregnant. You want my hands and mouth on you just as badly as I want to kiss and make love to you. You’re gorgeous, Lara, and I’ve wanted you all evening,” he said, repeating the arguments he had given her before. He drew her to him to kiss away any protest she had.
He was right about everything. She ached for his hands and mouth on her. Would once be so terrible? Could she go to bed with him and still say no the next time? One time didn’t have to mean she would fall in love with him. Far from it.
His kiss was making it difficult to think about the consequences and the reasons she didn’t want to make love. They seemed not as threatening when she was in his arms and his kisses were driving all thoughts into oblivion. She could do this and go back to life like it was. One night with him wouldn’t change her life. She could say no later after this one time.
One by one, her protests crumbled.
His black hair fell in ringlets on his forehead and he had the dark shadow of stubble on his jaw. He was handsome and exciting, a man who always knew what he wanted and went after it. And he usually got it.
She was his wife and she wanted his loving, his kisses and caresses. He was fabulous in every way, exciting, handsome, sexy, fun and capable. Tonight she wanted to make love with him, to be a real wife to him. For one night. Tomorrow she would go back to a sensible restraint. One night would not change everything, she repeated to herself.
He kissed her again, passionately, his tongue stroking hers, touching the corners of her mouth, making her shake with need. His hands roamed over her, unfastening her belt and pulling it free. She barely noticed, but soon she leaned away to undo his big buckle and then unfasten his jeans and push them away. He stepped back to yank off his boots and shed his clothes, watching her as she did the same, and in minutes he’d peeled away the last of her clothes.
“You’re beautiful,” he said hoarsely, picking her up and carrying her into the bedroom where he yanked the covers off the bed and set her on her feet. After one long glance at her nakedness that had her skin burning, he pulled her into his embrace and kissed her again.
Her heart pounded with excitement and desire. His masculine body was perfection. She ran her hands across his broad, muscled shoulders, his hard, bulging biceps. His stomach was flat, a washboard of muscle. His manhood was thick and hard and ready to love her.
He showered kisses on first one breast and then the other, slowly circling each nipple with his warm, wet tongue, making her gasp with pleasure as her fingers tangled in his hair.
“I want to kiss you from your head to your toes,” he whispered. His breath was hot on her flesh as his tongue traced circles on each breast and then moved lower over her belly and down farther. His hands played over her thighs and stroked slowly between them.
She reached between them to caress his thick rod, running her fingers over him, and then she stepped back, knelt and let her tongue stroke him. Boldly, she took him in her mouth to excite him as he had her.
He groaned, his hands tangling in her hair again as he gasped. But she did not stop.
Suddenly he reached beneath her arms to lift her up so that they faced each other. The desire that burned in his expression was so potent it made her tremble.
“You can’t imagine how much I want you. You’re beautiful. Every inch of you,” he whispered. He picked her up and laid her on the bed, then knelt to kiss her ankle, working his way slowly up her legs. His lips blazed the trail with hot, wet kisses and his hands followed the path as they caressed every inch he’d kissed.
She moaned with need. As he moved higher, caressing her inner thighs, running his tongue over her smooth skin, she spread her legs and his fingers explored and rubbed between her thighs.
She gasped, moving her hips as he stroked her, as tension built and she sought release. She cried out, arching beneath his hands and then his mouth and tongue were on her, hot and wet and driving her wild. When she couldn’t take any more of the delicious onslaught, she sat up and clutched his shoulders.
He looked up into her eyes and longing tore at her. She pulled him up, his body flush with hers, and kissed him. She locked her arms around him, holding him tightly while she poured herself into her kiss.
Each stroke, each kiss made her want him more. She couldn’t touch him enough, feverishly running her hands over his marvelous male body that was all hard muscle. “You’re wasting yourself in that office. This body was meant for ranch work,” she whispered, trailing kisses over his flat stomach as she caressed him.
He pulled her up again to gaze at her in another long, hot, probing look and then he kissed her, a kiss she knew she would remember forever. It was a kiss that made her feel he wanted her and he cared about her. And she kissed him back, just as passionately.
He laid her back on the bed and then moved above her to continue showering kisses from her head to her toes, as he pushed her down gently whenever she attempted to kiss him or to sit up.
He turned her over and his hands drifted over her back, down over her bottom, tickling and stroking her, moving between her legs again and then pulling her up on her knees to move over her, his hands on her breasts as he trailed his tongue on her nape.
With a cry she rolled over and pulled him down on top of her.
“Love me, Marc. I want you inside me. I want us together for this night. Tonight we’re husband and wife.”
“I know it, Lara. Don’t rush. Let’s take our time. I want to start over. I want you to want me so badly, you can’t possibly wait.”
“I already do.”
“Not like I want you to. Shh, just wait,” he whispered, showering kisses on her again, taking first one breast and the
n the other into his mouth, kissing her all over again.
He kissed her from head to toe and then she returned the favor. His hands were still everywhere on her, tickling, stroking, teasing and loving her.
Finally she grasped his shoulders. “Now. I want you now,” she said, looking intently at him.
He moved between her legs as she watched him. Her heart raced, she wanted him so badly. She ran her hands over his muscled thighs, feeling the short, crisp, curly hairs against her palms.
He lowered his weight, entering her gradually. With a muffled cry as he kissed her, she wrapped her long legs around him and ran her hands over his back and hard buttocks.
He filled her, thick and hot, making her arch beneath him and cry out for him. “Love me.” She gasped as she arched her hips against him, higher and higher, wanting more.
He held back, drawing out their loving while she writhed beneath him, wanting him more by the second. Each thrust was torment and ecstasy.
Her eyes were closed tightly as she clung to him, holding him with one arm while her other hand ran over his hard body.
He began to move his hips, thrusting and withdrawing, repeating it as she moved with him until, finally, he lost control and began to pump hard and fast.
With a cry she moved with him, arching her hips higher, tightening her legs around him as she moved wildly and her head thrashed back and forth.
“Marc, I want you,” she cried.
They built to a crisis and finally spilled over a brink that was shattering. Lights exploded behind her closed eyes and she rocked hard and fast with him while rapture enveloped her.
Groaning, Marc held her tightly, thrusting hard and reaching his climax.
They slowed gradually, gasping for breath until they were finally still. Marc rolled to his side, keeping her with him as he caught locks of her hair and pushed them away from her face. He placed his hand at her throat and she knew he could feel her racing pulse.
“See what you do to me?” she whispered.
“My pulse is just as fast,” he said. “We do that to each other.” He showered light kisses on her ear, her throat, her cheek. “You’re marvelous, Lara. This has been a fabulous night. I want you to stay right here in my bed, in my arms, all night long,” he said as she wound her arms around him and held him.
“It was good, Marc,” she said, kissing him lightly, her fingers wandering over his smooth back. She wanted to hold him all night.
“I want you to stay with me tonight. Don’t go,” he repeated.
“I’m not moving. I’m not going anywhere out of your arms,” she whispered. Ecstasy, euphoria, happiness filled her, and for a moment in time, she felt wanted and loved. She held him in her arms and wished she never had to let go. She knew that was impossible, but for a few more minutes, this was paradise.
* * *
She had no idea how late it was when she woke in his arms. Needing a bathroom break, she slipped out from beside his sleeping body.
When she returned to the bed, he stirred. “Don’t go.”
She didn’t bother correcting him. Instead, she burrowed against him. “That suits me.”
While he kissed her throat, she clung to him, twisting her fingers in his chest hair.
“I don’t want to let you go,” he whispered as he tightened his arms around her.
“But you will let me go,” she said quietly, wondering how much their relationship had changed tonight and how significant making love would be in their lives.
“Shh. No tomorrows. Tonight you’re in my arms, in my bed, and I want you to stay.”
“And tonight, that’s fine with me,” she said. Their legs were intertwined and she felt as close as she could get to him. “We’ve been good together, Marc.”
“I think so. I think asking you to marry me was one of the best things I’ve ever done. You’re perfect and you’ve made my grandparents and my mom happy. And all that family happiness—and some of my own—is going to make our breakup hurt a little. My mom isn’t going to like it when we break up. I’m going to hurt her and I don’t want to do that.”
“I suppose that’s unavoidable since you couldn’t find someone you really loved and wanted forever.”
“Not in one month,” he remarked.
She didn’t say anything about how she would feel when Marc divorced her and the marriage of convenience was over.
As he held her close, they stopped talking and lay together, holding each other and caressing each other. She knew when the moment changed and he wanted to make love again.
In seconds, his arms tightened around her and he leaned down to kiss her. She slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him in return. She didn’t think it was possible, but in no time he had her wanting him as much as she had earlier in the evening. They made love again, taking even longer than the time before.
Midmorning she stirred and looked around to find him propped on his hand looking at her. He smiled at her. “That was a fantastic night.”
“And long over. I think we better shower and go home. Are all those guys here who work for you?”
“I have no idea where they are. I haven’t stepped out of this bed since the sun came over the horizon, but I imagine they’re long gone. But not to worry. They know we’re newlyweds.”
“That’s a little embarrassing. Your car is still here.”
“We’re married. What’s wrong with us staying in for a while?”
She laughed. “I don’t feel very married.”
He caught her hand and held up her ring finger. “I’d say that’s very married.”
“Yes, you’re right when you put it that way,” she agreed when she looked at the diamonds glittering on her finger. She sat up, pulling the sheet to her chin, aware of him with the sheet over his hips, his skin looking darker than ever against the white sheets.
“I’m going to shower and dress. We should go home. I have an assignment that’s due Monday that I need to work on.”
“Do you really?” he asked, pulling her down against his chest. He was warm, and his intense look made her heart miss beats. “I have a better idea. You come here, and in a few minutes we’ll both go shower. In the meantime, I want a morning kiss,” he said, shifting and turning on his side, pulling her closer and kissing her.
The minute his mouth touched hers, she forgot her protest. His arms tightened around her and she wrapped her arms around him, clinging to him, pressing against him, feeling the chest hairs against her bare breasts. She wanted him again, was ready to make love. She didn’t want to get out of bed and have the idyll end.
Last night she had felt really married, desired by him, loved by him, a part of his life. They’d had fun all evening, and then making love locked them into intimacy, shifted their relationship to something much more important, much deeper for her. It was an illusion that she didn’t want to end yet. Their marriage was real, but not based on love and it would not last. She had had her moment with him. Now she needed to step away before she made herself far more vulnerable to hurt. She had to say no to him after this. If she lived as his wife the rest of the time with him, the divorce would hurt terribly. It would break her heart.
This was a fling and it would end—right after this.
He kissed her, his tongue going deep, stroking her mouth, stirring and arousing her until she moaned softly and ran her hands over him, moving her hips against him.
He shifted, throwing aside the sheet to uncover both of them, getting on his knees and moving between her legs. She gazed into his eyes and saw desire blazing in their depths. He wanted her and he was ready to love again.
She wrapped her legs around him as he entered her slowly, making her gasp with pleasure as she arched beneath him and clung to him tightly. He withdrew, only to enter her again and again, filling her deeper each time unt
il she went over the edge. She cried out, clutching his butt, pulling him to her as she thrashed beneath him and he began to pump faster.
She held him tightly while she climaxed, hearing his moan and knowing he reached a climax also.
Finally they were still, locked together, holding each other while she opened her eyes to look at him.
“Now I can’t move.”
“Good. I don’t want you to move anyway. I want you here in my arms. You know I can get this room for the day.”
She laughed. “Don’t you dare. We need to get back to the ranch. I have things to do.”
“You don’t have anything nearly as important as making me happy,” he said, and she laughed.
“That’s a hoot. There might be a thing or two that comes before you and your well-being.”
“Be careful or you’ll hurt my feelings,” he teased. He rose up on his arm to look down at her. “See, we can have a good time together in bed. We can have a really good time together naked in bed. Move into my suite when we get back to the ranch.”
“Marc, this has been fantastic, but I can’t move in with you knowing that this will end and that we don’t love each other. I don’t want a broken heart. I don’t want a temporary relationship and you don’t want a permanent marriage—which I understand. This is a business arrangement with papers. It’s a contract marriage of convenience. I can’t move in with you and I can’t sleep with you anymore. We did and it was wonderful. But we have to stop now while I can still say goodbye.”
“Think about it, Lara. You know you enjoy my company.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think you’re listening to me.”
“We’re married. Why can’t we live together?”
“You know there’s no love in this marriage. That is an enormous difference in everything we do with each other.”
“True, but we aren’t going to fall in love.”
“If I start sleeping in your bed with you, it’ll be a possibility for me, and you’ll still want a divorce.”
“But you won’t fall in love. You have all that cool control you exhibit all the time. You’ll be in charge of your feelings and just because you’re in my bed, you won’t necessarily be any wilder about me than you are now.”
