Persuading Spring: A Sexy New Zealand Romance (The Four Seasons Book 4)

by Serenity Woods

  He didn’t interrupt—he just stood there studying her, thoughtful and quiet, his lips slightly pursed, his eyes glittering silver in the moonlight.

  She cleared her throat. “But the thing is, over the past week, even though I’ve been thinking about what happened, I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind. Is it possible that what I’m feeling stems from the fact that you rescued me that day? Absolutely. Could it be that I’m thinking there’s more to this than there really is—that I’m romanticizing it? Quite possibly. But you know what? I don’t care.”

  His eyebrows lifted a little, but he still didn’t say anything.

  She moistened her lips. “What I’m trying to say is, I like you. I find you attractive and sexy, and I came here because I wanted to explore that. I’d like to come back to your place, and I’d like to go to bed with you.”

  Her mouth had gone dry. She had no idea what he was thinking. “I know there’s no chance of anything long term,” she continued hastily, “and that’s fine. I’m not looking for that. I’m looking for comfort, for fun, for physical pleasure, just for a day, or a few days, whatever. I’d like to share myself with someone new, and see what it’s like. I’d like to live, Aaron—really live—and share something with you that I’ll be able to remember with a smile for the rest of my days.”

  Now he looked completely bemused, and she had the horrible feeling he was about to back away hastily and walk off in the opposite direction.

  “I want you to be honest,” she said, somewhat desperately. “If I’ve shocked you, and it’s not what you want, please just say.”

  He reached out a hand, placed it on her arm, and gently turned her as if he was about to direct her onto the road.

  She swallowed hard. “If you’re worried about repercussions, or you feel uncomfortable, and you just want to stay friends—or even if you don’t want to see me again, please say so.”

  He stepped forward, forcing her to back up. Wasn’t he going to say anything?

  “Aaron…” She began to panic that she’d made a terrible mistake.

  Suddenly, her back met the pohutukawa trunk with a bump. She gasped, but he didn’t apologize. Instead, a sexy smile curved up his lips as he moved close to her, and he cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing her cheeks.

  She inhaled deeply, her hands still in her pockets, and froze, shocked to the core. She didn’t know what she’d expected him to do—maybe mumble that he’d think about it, or state there and then that he wasn’t into casual sex and didn’t fancy her like that anyway.

  He didn’t say anything, but he did hesitate, his lips not quite touching hers.

  Was he thinking about Nita? About the fact that, up until this moment, he’d been faithful to her? It was the same for her—she’d never kissed another man, not like this. Until his lips touched hers, it would just be flirtatious talk and dinner, no harm done. If they went further than that, it would be as if they were drawing a line under their previous relationships and accepting they were ready to move on.

  Was he giving her time to accept this? To move back, to say no?

  She didn’t move, afraid he might take any gesture as a sign that she didn’t want him. Instead, she closed her eyes and waited, feeling the sea breeze lift her hair, concentrating on his warm hands on her skin.

  Then, to her immense relief, he kissed her.

  His lips moved across hers, soft and gentle, tentative almost, as if giving her the chance to push him away if she suddenly realized she couldn’t go through with it.

  She didn’t, though. He hadn’t zipped up his jacket, and she took her hands out of her pockets, parted the two sides, and rested her hands on his shirt. His skin was warm beneath her fingertips, and as she slowly moved her hands around him inside the jacket, they passed over firm muscle, and he shivered and lifted his head.

  “Are you cold?” she whispered.

  “No.” He brushed a thumb across her lips. “Now it’s my turn to say something.”

  She felt in a dreamy stupor with his warm hands cupping her face, but she just said, “Okay.”

  “The gentleman in me is telling me I should say no to you, because it’s only days since you broke up with Mal, and you must still be emotionally vulnerable. But you made it clear that it’s not fair to put words in your mouth. I’m not going to assume that I know you better than you know yourself. I want you, Bridget, and I want to take you to bed, but I need to tell you now that if you change your mind at any time, I want you to say.”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  “Any time. I’m not the kind of guy who’ll get angry if you suddenly say you can’t go through with it.”

  “I know.”

  “I mean, I’d rather you not leave it until the crucial moment, but even then, if you feel you must, just tell me to stop and I will.”

  “I understand, Aaron, but I won’t. I want this as much as you. This isn’t just about me and what happened at the weekend. This is about us. Even though I was upset on Saturday, I was conscious of being attracted to you. I told myself it was only because you’d rescued me, but I’ve had days to think about it, and I know that’s not all it was. You’re gorgeous and sexy, and I like the way you look at me. I can’t say I’m not nervous about sleeping with someone new, but it’s exciting too.” Embracing new Bridget, she threw all caution to the wind. “I want to tear off your clothes and see what you look like naked. I want to touch your skin and kiss it and feel how hard you are, and I want to have you inside me. I want—”

  “Ah, God.” He groaned and crushed his lips to hers.

  Taken by surprise at his forcefulness, she gasped, but all it did was give him the opportunity to delve his tongue into her mouth and deepen the kiss. She moaned, her body superheating, and slid her arms right around him until her hands were on his shoulder blades. Reaching up on tiptoes, she leaned into the kiss, and his arms came around her, one on her back holding her steady, the other sliding down onto her butt, pulling her against him.

  He was so self-effacing and his manner was so gentle that she’d expected him to be tentative and hesitant with her, but she couldn’t have been more wrong. His mouth claimed hers with a passion she hadn’t expected, heat searing between them, and she felt the clear evidence of his desire pressed against her, hard and impressive even through his jeans.

  When he finally lifted his head, they were both breathing heavily. He moved back, blinked and focused on her, and then together their lips gradually curved up.

  He glanced away, across the sea to the moon for a moment, still smiling, then looked back at her and gave a short laugh of pure, unbridled joy.

  “Come on,” he said, and he grabbed her hand and led her up to the road, heading for the hill in front of them.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Luckily, the cleaner had been that morning, so Aaron’s house looked neat and tidy, the kitchen sparkling, the living room free of dust and fluff and smelling of carpet spray instead of dog.

  He slid off his jacket, then took hers and hung them on one of the chairs by his desk.

  “How are you with dogs?” He hesitated with one hand on the sliding door to the garden.

  “I love them, don’t worry.”

  “Okay, get prepared.” He opened the door, and two streaks of lightning flashed past him, jumping as if they were on trampolines.

  “All right, all right.” He fussed them briefly, then introduced them to Bridget. “The boxer is Tycho. The basset is Kepler.”

  Bridget laughed. “You’re into medieval astronomy?”

  He felt a warm glow that she recognized the names. “A little hobby of mine.”

  “I guess they should just be glad they’re not named after fish.”

  He grinned, watching her fuss over the two dogs.

  “Have you had them since puppies?” she asked.

  “No. Tycho was around two when I got him. I’ve only had Kepler six months.”

  “They’re rescue dogs?”

  “Kind of.�
�

  “You got them from the SPCA place I passed on the way in?”

  “God, no. I daren’t go anywhere near there. I’d end up bringing the whole place home. They were both found injured and abandoned, and brought into the surgery.”

  She straightened and walked to stand before him. With a finger, she traced down the front of his shirt. “You’re a regular St. Francis of Assisi, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t think I’d ever achieve sainthood, but I am a soft touch.”

  She tucked a finger into the placket of his shirt and pulled him toward her. “I like that,” she murmured, and lifted up on tiptoes.

  Aaron slid a hand around her back to hold her steady and lowered his lips to hers. Her soft body molded to his, warm and yielding, and he couldn’t stop his hand sliding down and splaying on her bottom, his fingers tightening and pulling her to him.

  He guessed it was because he hadn’t had sex in a long time, but just this tender, intimate kissing sent his blood racing around his body and had him hardening in seconds. He’d forgotten what a turn on it was to have a woman interested in him. Bridget wanted him—it was obvious not only in her words but in the way she touched him, her approving murmurs, the hunger with which she claimed his mouth.

  Something bumped against his leg. He lifted his head and looked down to see Tycho standing there expectantly with his leash in his mouth, Kepler behind him, tail wagging.

  “Guys, seriously? Kinda busy here.”

  Bridget looked down and laughed. “Do you need to take them for a walk?”

  “They can wait for a while. I fed them and gave them a short walk before I came to meet you.” He gestured to the two dog beds in front of the gas fire. “Bed.”

  Tycho dropped his leash and gave him a look as if to say You cruel, cruel man.

  “Don’t give me that,” Aaron scolded. “I know usually it’s bro’s before ho’s but tonight I’m making an exception.”

  He watched them slink off to their beds then turned his gaze back to see that Bridget’s eyebrows had lifted. He thought about what he’d said. “Sorry, I wasn’t really calling you a ho.”

  She laughed, lifted her arms around his neck, and kissed him.

  Aaron wrapped his arms around her and walked her backward into the kitchen as he returned the kiss, enjoying the slide of her tongue against his, the press of her breasts to his chest. Lost in the kiss, he bumped her into the doorframe, then into the kitchen counter, and they both laughed, coming to rest by the fridge.

  “Glass of wine?” he murmured against her lips.

  “I’d love one.”

  Keeping one hand on her hip, not wanting to let her go, he retrieved two glasses from the cupboard and a bottle from the fridge. Sliding his arms around her, he opened the bottle behind her back while he kissed her, then poured the wine into the glasses. He gave one to her, and they touched the rims together.

  “To desire,” she said.

  Heat rushed through him at the thought of what was to come. “To desire.”

  He sipped the wine, enjoying the slide of the cool liquid down his throat, the sweet taste of apples and citrus fruits.

  “Mmm,” she said and touched the tip of her tongue to her lips to catch a drop.

  His gaze dropped to them, his heart picking up speed. “Do that again.”

  Her lips parted as she inhaled, and then she moistened them slowly, leaving them plump and glistening.

  Aaron bent his head and touched his lips to hers. His body urged him to kiss her hard, to give in to the fire that burned inside him, but he ignored it and took his time, pressing his lips lightly to hers from one corner to the other before returning to the center and touching his tongue to her lips. She gasped—he loved that, her little inhalations of surprise and pleasure—and parted her lips, and he slid his tongue inside her mouth.

  Mmm, she tasted of wine and chocolate, and the kiss brought all kinds of sweet, dark desires rising up in him to echo the rich wantonness of the dessert. Nita had liked chocolate—didn’t all women?—but he knew that the taste of chocolate and coffee would always make him think of Bridget in years to come.

  A small, sexy moan sounded deep in her throat, and something clicked inside Aaron, flipping his switch from patient to urgent, from simmering to sizzling. He put his wine glass down, slid his hands around onto her butt, and plunged his tongue into her mouth.

  Her small moan transformed into a long one, and she also placed her glass down and lifted her arms around his neck. Her fingers slid into his hair, her nails scraping ever so slightly on his scalp, and he shuddered and gave up on holding back. He’d made it clear that she could ask him to stop at any time. At the moment, there was no sign of that, and until that instruction came, he was darned well going to enjoy himself.

  *

  Bridget’s head was spinning, her body tingling from Aaron’s heated passion. She hadn’t expected this—Jesus, she was so naive. She’d thought she’d feel shy and nervous about kissing him, let alone doing anything else. Because he’d been hesitant and worried about taking advantage of her, she’d thought he’d be fumbling and awkward, but he wasn’t. His hands when they slid over her trembling body were sure and steady, his mouth hot and demanding, taking, not asking, which was… holy shit… so hot she thought she was going to self-combust.

  In spite of his obvious desire, she had the feeling he wasn’t just going to strip her, heft her over his shoulder, and carry her through to the bedroom. From his words, he was obviously concerned that at the last minute she might realize what she was doing and want to stop. That wasn’t going to happen—she would never come on to a guy and lead him to this stage only to refuse to see it through—but his thoughtfulness and kind nature touched her to the core.

  She moved her hands to his shirt and began to pop the buttons through the holes, desperate to show him how much she wanted this. At the same time, he slid his hands beneath her top, skating them over the sensitive skin of her stomach and around her ribs, and she shivered. Her nipples tightened of their own accord, aching for his hands to touch them. Had she ever felt this hunger with Mal? Had her body ever throbbed with pleasure? It must have done, in the early days, but it had been a long while since she’d longed to have him inside her like this. It made her a little sad—why hadn’t she realized that the flame had died between them?

  She pushed the sadness away. This wasn’t about what she’d lost, but what she’d gained. Meeting Aaron had been a twist of fate she could never have foreseen, and she had to make the most of it while it lasted, like admiring a shooting star, or the vibrant colors of a sunset.

  She undid the last button and pushed his shirt off his shoulders. He dropped his hands temporarily to let it fall to the floor, then returned them to her hips.

  Bridget placed her palms on his chest and smoothed them out, over his shoulders and down his arms. “You’re a fine figure of a man, Aaron,” she said truthfully, returning her fingers to his pecs, sliding them through the curly hairs and over his flat nipples.

  He didn’t say anything, and she raised her gaze to see that oddly bemused look in his eyes. It made her soften—it had been a long time since someone had admired him, had desired him.

  She lifted a hand to cup his face and brushed her thumb across his bottom lip. “I want you,” she whispered. “I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you, even though I was half in another world at the time. There’s something between us—I don’t know what, and I don’t understand it—but it’s there, and when you look at me it gets me right here.” She placed a hand over her solar plexus, feeling the flutter inside as his gray eyes surveyed her.

  Rising up, she touched her lips to his. “I want you naked. I want to feel you against me. I want your body hot against mine, inside mine. I’ve never wanted anything so much as I want you, and it’s making me ache.”

  She took his hand and placed it on her breast. “Make love to me, Aaron.”

  “I’ve not had sex for quite a while,” he said, his voice
somewhat hoarse. “You’re severely testing my self-control, talking like that.”

  Her lips curved up. “I want to test it.” She touched her tongue to his lip. “I want to drive you crazy.”

  He growled, like a tiger, and pushed her up against the counter with enough force to make her gasp, following which he plunged his tongue into her open mouth. She moaned and lifted her arms around his neck, pressing against him, and felt his hands at the buttons of her shirt, his fingers swiftly pushing them through the holes. In moments he was pushing it off her shoulders, and she let it fall to the floor, holding her breath as his gaze slid down her.

  His eyes widened. “Wow.”

  She looked down at herself. She was wearing one of Rowan’s special creations—an item from her Saharan Sunset collection, inspired by the safari trip she’d taken with Hitch. The burgundy teddy consisted of stretchy lace from the waist up that clung to her breasts, the intricate gold and orange shimmery thread sparkling in the light. Wanting to show him the rest, she toed off her sandals, unbuttoned her jeans, and slid them off, then leaned back against the counter, tucking her hands under her butt so she wasn’t tempted to cover herself up. A sexy mesh flared over her butt like a pair of French knickers. She’d loved the teddy as soon as Rowan had shown her the design. It was comfortable and pretty, and you didn’t have to be stick thin to look sexy in it.

  “Jesus,” he said.

  Her body was heating fast under his hot gaze. “You like?” she asked shyly.

  His eyes came back to hers, filled with humor, half-lidded with desire. “Yes, Bridget, I like.” He moved closer to her, pressing her up against the counter, and slid his hands up to her breasts. “You have an amazing figure.”

  His hands were warm through the lace, his caresses gentle, and when he brushed his fingers over her nipples, she exhaled approvingly.

  “It makes my hair stand on end when you sigh like that.” He slid a hand beneath the lace to cup her breast, and she automatically arched her back as he claimed her mouth again.