by Tina Beckett
Her teeth toyed with her bottom lip, and she stood there for a long minute, then her arms went around his neck and she stretched up to drop a light kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.”
He should have moved back then, while he still could. He waited for that sense of self-preservation to kick in and carry him to safety, but there was nothing. The switch wasn’t working.
Instead, one arm slid across her back, drawing her near. Then a very different kind of switch turned on, and his mouth came down on hers. The intimate touch scorched across his senses instantly, like lightning hitting a pile of brush.
As if caught in the same fiery trap, Cassie made no attempt to move away. Instead she edged closer, her arms tightening further.
The hell with the food. He had all he needed right here. Maybe it was the heat from the coffee and the jolt of caffeine talking, but suddenly every nerve ending he possessed came alive in a rush, each clamoring for what this woman had to offer.
Pressing her against the refrigerator, Rafe’s fingers went to the back of her head, where another hair tie bound the silky strands into a single thick rope. He wound it around his hand, fingers closing over it like a lifeline.
Maybe it was.
All he knew was that finding her back in his arms fueled a craving that had been growing despite all of his efforts to squash it. Or at least do some serious damage control.
Screw it. He was going to let it happen.
Maybe they’d met again for this very reason. He hadn’t quite gotten her out of his system a month ago, so it was up to him to really do it right this time.
With that in mind, he lifted her onto the countertop, scattering the take-out containers he’d put there moments earlier. She gasped as their mouths lurched apart, and she gave a shaky laugh. “I thought you brought me here to eat.”
“Well, this wasn’t exactly the kind of eating I had in mind...” he planted a kiss on her throat “...but what’s in front of me looks pretty damn delicious.”
“Oh!” Her legs parted, her feet hooking around his knees. “What if I need more seasoning?”
“What better seasoning than coffee?” He leaned in for another kiss. “I can taste it on you. Best pot I ever made.”
In truth, the woman didn’t need anything. She was hot and sweet and spicy all at once, and he couldn’t seem to get enough. Of any of it.
He reached for her hair elastic, tugging it free and then tossing it on the counter behind him. “And that makes two.”
She leaned back and shook her hair out. “You’re lucky I have more of those at home.”
“Oh, I’m definitely lucky.” He said it against her ear, reveling in the way she shivered against him.
Her fingers slid away from his neck and went to the buttons on his shirt, undoing the first three. Then the three after that. Soon she had his shirt tails pulled free from the slacks he’d worn to the meeting this afternoon, her palms grazing the planes of his chest.
A certain part of him stiffened painfully, wanting to forget about the appetizers and get right to the main course.
But he also wanted this to last.
His mouth skimmed her collarbone then followed the rounded neckline of her top. No buttons on this one. Zipper? He checked the back and found just silky fabric and the thin line of a bra strap beneath his touch. So it had to just...
He grasped the material at her waist and bunched it in his hands and then lifted it up and over her head. It went without a fight.
There was indeed a bra underneath it, but it was lacy, almost sheer—playing peek-a-boo with his senses. He closed the gap between them, his erection finding the hard edge of the countertop when what it really wanted was warm, soft flesh.
As if sensing his need, Cassie wiggled forward.
Yes.
He cupped her hips and dragged her to the very precipice, until he could feel her tight against him.
When she reached behind her, he thought she was trying to steady herself. A second later, her bra straps fell from her shoulders and slid down her arms, proving him wrong. She tossed the garment onto the linoleum floor.
“Holy hell, woman.”
Made up of gentle curves, creamy skin and high, tight nipples, her breasts were perfect. Just like he remembered. And when his hands covered them, she arched into him with a gasp. “I thought it might be hard to eat if the wrapper was still on.”
“It is. Very hard.” She might be talking about her bra, but he was talking about something entirely different. He showed her with a single tilt of his hips.
“Rafe...”
His lips went to her breast, nibbling his way toward the center and then suckling hard on what he found there.
“Ahhh...” She gripped the back of his head, pressing him against her, asking for more.
Damn, she was everything a man could want.
He continued feasting, holding her with his teeth while his tongue scrubbed over her flesh.
She moaned. “I don’t want to wait.”
Her hands went to the front of her slacks, undoing the button and jerking down the zipper. He backed up a step to watch, loving the way her hips jiggled as she shimmied her way out of the garment, taking her panties off with them. Then she leaned back and spread her legs.
He swallowed.
She was more gorgeous than anything he’d ever seen, and he wanted her.
Was going to have her now.
He tugged his wallet free of his pocket, going through the same motions he’d done the last time they’d been together. Except this time Cassie held her hand out for it. “Let me.”
“I don’t think—”
“Trust me.” She smiled. “I promise to be gentle.”
His smile was a little tighter than hers had been. “I’d rather you weren’t. I can handle a little bit of roughhousing.”
“Oh, yeah? Then take off your clothes.”
She said it in a tone of bravado, but her cheeks went a delicious pink. She was experimenting. Trying to act uninhibited when she was anything but.
He liked it. Liked believing she’d never spoken to another man the way she was speaking him right now.
And he wanted it to continue. Even if that meant stripping down in front of her. Because if she could dish it out, he could certainly take it.
“You’ve got it, babe.”
Taking a step back, he made short work of his trousers, keeping his eyes on her as he kicked them off his legs. As he did the same with his briefs, Cassie flipped open his wallet and found the little compartment where he kept his condoms.
Someone had paid attention the last time they’d been together.
He moved forward again when she tried to rip open one of the packets with her teeth and failed.
“Not as easy as it looks, is it?”
“The execution doesn’t matter as long as it happens.”
“Honey, from where I stand, execution is everything.” He took the packet from her and opened it without hesitation. “Especially when all I want to do is take you in a rush.”
She sat up straight, reaching for him. Finding him. “Then do it. Take me.”
With that, she trailed her fingernails lightly down his length, forcing a deep groan from him that was totally involuntary. When she started to repeat the act, he grabbed her hand and held it.
“Not so fast, mi querida.” He dropped the condom on her palm. “We need this.”
Cassie placed the latex shield on the head of his erection and slowly rolled it over him.
Once he was covered, he took her hands and set them on the counter. “Now we’re going to play a game.”
“A g-game?”
She didn’t sound quite as brave as she had a moment earlier when she’d been ordering him to take his clothes off. And although his
body wanted to comply and charge right through to completion, his mind wasn’t quite ready to hand over the wheel. Not just yet.
“Yes. An eating game, since you reminded me that’s what I brought you here for.” He went to the refrigerator and rummaged through it for anything that might work. “I’m going to turn my back and count to fifty, and you’re going to lay out a taste test. On your body. I have to guess what the treat is, and which body part it’s painted on.”
She moistened her lips, and he halfway thought she might chicken out on him. He set the items he’d found next to her hip, hoping for the best but ready to swallow his disappointment if she balked. “Are we on?”
Up went her chin. “Turn around and start counting.”
So he did, trying to keep his body in line as he imagined her smearing chocolate sauce, and whipped cream and cherries over that luscious skin.
Something behind him hissed to life. Hell, the whipped topping. He lost count for a second or two, his palms moistening as he tried to find his place. Maybe he’d be the one who chickened out.
He hit fifty.
“Ready?” His voice wasn’t quite as steady as it had been.
“More than ready. You can turn around, but keep your eyes closed.”
He did as she asked. A second later, her hands were on his and she guided him toward her. His length slid over the same counter it had earlier and found her. Lost her. She must have moved slightly backward.
“Uh-uh-uh. Not yet.” He could almost hear her smile. “Since there are five food groups, I’ve made five taste zones. I’ll guide you to each of them, and you’ll...taste.”
Her breath hitched for a second. “And then you’ll have to guess what it is, and where it is. Number one...”
Something softly touched his lips. He immediately opened and drew the object inside, sucking lightly. Dark. Sweet.
He knew what it was and where it was, but he didn’t want to let go to guess. Cassie obliged, pushing what had to be her finger further into his mouth, mimicking what he was dying to do to her. The third thrust found him opening his mouth and letting her go.
“Chocolate.” He reached up and found her wrist, bringing it slowly forward so he could kiss her digit. “On your finger.”
“You’re good at this,” she whispered.
“Not bad for my first time playing.”
There was silence for a second or two, then she cupped his cheeks and guided his head forward and down. “Here.”
He opened his mouth, his tongue sliding to find the object. Oh, he knew what this was...and where. But he could have a little fun while he was at it. He wrapped his lips around her and lost himself in the taste and texture of her breast. Without coming up, he murmured against the puckered flesh. “Whipped cream...and nipple. Both are delicious, by the way.”
He moved in for another taste, and Cassie moaned, her hands going to his butt and pulling him against her, spreading further. Waiting.
No. He had to finish the game. Releasing her, he tried to control the jolt of disappointment his body sent him. “Next.”
Her belly button had strawberry sauce drizzled in it. He swirled his tongue inside to capture the very last drop, hoping against hope she was going to keep him moving in this direction.
“Rafe...” The way she said his name sent a shudder rippling across his midsection. He didn’t need any guiding this time, easily finding her knees with his palms and pushing them apart.
He went down on her, the fragrance of marshmallows melding with her own personal scent.
It was intoxicating. Addictive. And he wanted it. Now.
Using tiny strokes of his tongue, he explored and lingered. Her hands moved to hold him in place, but she needn’t have bothered. He had no intention of going anywhere. Yet.
She didn’t ask him to name the flavor, and he didn’t offer up his guess, allowing himself to glory in the soft heat beneath his mouth instead. Cassie’s hips set up a rhythm, nudging that tiny part against him, her breathing becoming ragged. Needy.
“Oh, Rafe, I’m going to...”
He opened his eyes to find her head thrown back, eyes closed, her nipples hard and pink as she continued to push against him. And then he felt it. Every muscle in her body tightened, drawing up, going rigid.
She cried out, and up Rafe came, finding her immediately and thrusting home in a rush. He rode out her orgasm and then allowed his own to race in and capture him, grabbing her to him as the massive wave crashed over him and into her. Again and again he rode that wave until there was nothing left but shaking legs and a woman who had brought him to a point he’d never reached before. Ever.
He caught his breath and looked for his sanity, then pressed his forehead to hers. “That was...”
“I know.”
A few seconds of silence while he tried to steady his muscles.
“Who knew good nutrition could be so much fun.”
Her words were so unexpected that he laughed, the sound half-choked as he looked at her.
She giggled too, her fingers sliding up and down his back.
He kissed her nose. “I don’t know about good nutrition, but it was definitely good. So the fourth flavor was marshmallow cream.” He searched her body for the missing treat. “What was number five?”
“I think you forfeited the game with that premature—”
“Watch it.” But he smiled as he said it. Because they both knew it hadn’t been premature. It had been unstoppable. “But seriously. Number five?”
He couldn’t imagine anything sexier than what she’d just put him through.
“Are you sure you can handle it?”
A glimmer of doubt raised its head. Could he?
“Try me.”
With him still deep inside her, Cassie reached over and picked up a bottle of maraschino cherries and popped open the lid. She reached in and grabbed a stem, slowly pulling the little red fruit from the jar. Opening her mouth, she dangled the cherry over it, her tongue darting out and licking the bottom of it with a soft moan.
Something down below tightened—started to come to life again. He gulped. “Do it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Very.”
With that, Cassie wrapped her lips around the red fruit and plucked the stem from it before it disappeared in her mouth.
Rafe needed no further invitation. He moved in and took her mouth in a feverish kiss that had them both back at the starting line. A place he could get used to far too easily.
A place he needed to find his way home from. Before it was too late.
CHAPTER SIX
IT HAD BEEN a week since the last Zika meeting at his office. And a week since she and Rafe had made love in his apartment.
She’d been feeling out of sorts on and off for the last three weeks. Today it had progressed to downright nausea that sent her scrambling for the bathroom just off her bedroom. She had no idea why she felt so awful. Maybe her cycle was getting ready to...
Her thoughts barreled past that reason before screeching to an abrupt halt and backing up a few paces. Then a few more.
Her period.
When was the last time she’d had one?
When? Oh, God... When?
A series of dates raced through her head, and she discarded some and tried to think her way through others. She’d never been all that regular, but surely she should have had one by now?
But the stress...
She had been under a lot of stress with the worries about the Zika virus, and with having to work so closely with Rafe, but surely that wouldn’t throw her system off so completely?
But what else could it be?
She flushed her bathroom toilet, even though she hadn’t thrown anything up, and went over to the sink, splashing her face with water.
She and Darrin had always used protection. Always. And if she was pregnant with that man’s child, she was going to have a nervous breakdown. Even the thought of telling him had her kneeling beside the toilet all over again.
They had been so careful.
But things happened. How many times in her career had she heard that such and such a baby had been the result of an accident?
Far too many.
Climbing back to her feet, she placed a hand on her belly and glanced down at it. “Hello. Anyone in there?”
She immediately felt ridiculous. And terrified.
It couldn’t be Darrin’s.
Back at the sink she stared at her reflection, then her eyes widened, her hand going to cover her mouth.
“Oh, no. It can’t be.” But the way her tummy flipped up and over made her wonder. She and Rafe had done things that she and Darrin had never even dreamed of...and they’d remained connected a whole lot longer before separating than she and her ex had.
She blinked, leaning closer, realizing her cheeks had hollowed out a little over the past month. From the Zika scare? Even as she thought it, the tummy that had been flipping around sank like a rock.
Zika. Could she have somehow contracted the illness? Was that why she’d been feeling so weak and ill?
Ha! It hadn’t stopped her from making love with Rafe in that hotel room, and then back at his condo.
They’d had sex multiple times on both occasions. That brought her right back to the first option: she could be pregnant.
She didn’t even want to think about the implications.
You don’t even know if it’s a possibility, Cassie. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
“Okay, so what do we do?” She rolled her eyes and took her hand off her belly. “‘We’ can start by not using a plural pronoun. It’s still only one of you until proven otherwise.”
But...a baby! She didn’t know the first thing about raising a child.
Are you sure? You already know what not to do from your own childhood. They need love. Compassion. Discipline. And most of all the kind of permanent home you didn’t have.
Her jaw firmed with resolve. First she needed to know one way or the other.
