Then he moved to her instep. Then her ankles.
It took him forever to get to her calves, and by the time he reached her knees, Livvy wasn’t sure what a knee was, let alone how much more of this she could take.
Quite a lot as it turned out.
Sean kissed every inch of her. Every inch. Some longer than others. Some not long enough. But when he returned to the one place that she really needed him, he took his time. Made it worth her while. And if his growl of satisfaction was anything to go by when she cried out his name on a wave of pleasure that was so amazing she was sure the sky had opened right up and given her a glimpse of heaven, it’d been worth his, too.
“See?” he said when she could finally open her eyes to see him kneeling between her legs, his smile of satisfaction probably as large as her own. “No condom necessary and all the pleasure you could want.”
Smug bastard. She bit back a smile. “Oh, I don’t know. I want a lot more.”
He flopped onto the blanket beside her. “Jesus, woman. You’re going to kill me.”
“I’m going to kill you if you don’t get my name right. It’s Livvy, not Jesus. And while I’m more than happy for you to think of me as a divine being, I do so enjoy my name being the one you call out when you come.”
“And when I do, I’ll be sure to do that.”
“When you . . . Is that a challenge?”
He lifted that one eyebrow. “If you want it to be.”
Oh she wanted.
Livvy sat up and kicked her bikini bottom off her left foot where Sean, for whatever reason, had left it. She wanted complete freedom of movement because when he’d challenged her, he’d had no idea what he was going to get.
Neither, as it turned out, did she.
Livvy took her time exploring every inch of his body. Well, not quite every inch; she wasn’t as much into toes as he’d been, but there were certain inches she was very into.
“Jesus—God, Goddess—Livvy,” he called out, his fingers tightening in her hair as that final moment approached, giving her scant warning so she could pull back to watch the pleasure overtake him.
“At least you got my name in there somewhere,” she said, settling her head in the crook of his arm, her fingers still wrapped around him, enjoying the shudders that wracked him afterward. The heck with outswimming him; she might have just out-sexed him.
“Sweetheart, I knew exactly who was doing what to whom.” He threaded his fingers through her hair, the tugs zinging through her.
She played with his chest hair, wanting to return the favor. “So you want to tell me why this isn’t a good idea?”
He stiffened then. Darn. She shouldn’t have brought it up.
But then he relaxed. “Never mind. I was wrong.”
“Wow. A man who can say those three little words and not shrivel up in the sun. You are amazing.”
He turned his head and tilted her chin. “Bad experience?”
She shook her head. “Long ago. I shouldn’t have said anything. You’re nothing like him.”
He tapped the tip of her nose. “And don’t you forget it.”
He was teasing, but she wasn’t. She rolled onto her stomach and worked her hand beneath her chin as she lay on his chest. “It’s true, Sean. You aren’t like any guy I’ve ever been with. I like you much more.”
He stiffened again momentarily, but then he smiled. Okay, so maybe she shouldn’t have been so candid.
“You’re just saying that because I do windows.”
Okay, she could go with levity. “And toilets. Don’t forget that you scrub toilets.”
“As if I could.”
“And shovel alpaca poo.”
“Ah, but that’s going to cost you.”
She licked her lips. “Name your price.”
He groaned and dropped his head back onto the blanket. “Damn, Livvy, you’re not supposed to say that. Not when we’re out of condoms.”
“Well then we’ll just have to get in condoms now, won’t we?”
He chuckled. “I’d like to see you get in a condom. Where would you put it?”
She reached down. “Right here of course, silly.” She ran her fingers up the length of him.
“Holy hell.” His breath whooshed out. “Damn, woman, I can’t—”
“Oh yes you can.”
And she showed just how much he could.
IT was late when they got back to the house. Later still after they fed the dogs, ate dinner, and took care of the barn chores, both of them grinning when it came time to muck out the alpacas’ stall.
“Who would have thought this would become our little joke?” Sean said as he shoveled the last bit into the wheelbarrow. “Don’t most women want romance? You can’t tell me this is romantic.”
She took the pitchfork from him. “I’m not most women, and having had to do this for years by myself, you can’t believe how romantic it is to have someone help me.”
“Someone? Or me?”
She kissed him. “You of course, silly. I don’t see anyone else here.”
She turned to leave, but he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into him. “Good thing.”
Then he proceeded to show her how a proper kiss was done. Or rather, how an improper kiss was done.
“You don’t, by any chance, happen to have any condoms on you, do you?” she asked.
Sean shook his head, then rested his forehead against hers with a sigh. “Sadly, no. I wasn’t expecting this to happen when I’d be living here by myself.”
“What about dates? I would’ve thought that living alone in a big ol’ mansion would lend itself to some extracurricular bachelor activities.”
“If one were so inclined to extracurricular bachelor activities, then you might be right. I, however, have other things on my mind.”
“Like what?”
Shit. Yeah. Like what? Like how he was going to bilk her out of millions?
He’d let his guard down. Now he had to scramble to shore it back up. “I, uh, am only working for Mac until a couple of business ventures I’m working on pan out.”
“What sort of business ventures?”
Yeah, genius, what sort? The take-over kind you don’t want to talk about?
“Flipping houses.” Because, really, he did flip them. Into B&Bs.
And now vacation resorts.
“Oh, I had a friend who did that,” she said, settling herself against him in a way that made it hard to concentrate. Then again, just thinking about Livvy made it hard to concentrate. “He made a killing until the housing market went bust.”
Which was why Sean turned them into B&Bs. People were always looking to get away, especially when the economy went south. He’d never had an issue with vacancies. It was one of the reasons this project had been so attractive to investors and why he’d decided to go with Bryan and Liam, hoping to share the winnings with them. An idea that was now coming back to bite him in the ass.
“Yoo-hoo, Sean.” She waved a hand in front of his face. “You still with me?”
He worked a chuckle out of the back of his throat. “I am. I’m just thinking that, for the first time in my professional life, I wish I’d been more focused on something other than business. If I had been, I’d be better prepared and we could end this night in my bed.”
She kissed his neck. “We still can. If you remember, there are lots of things we can do without condoms.”
“I remember.”
And they discovered a few more.
Chapter Twenty-eight
A GONG was going off inside his skull.
Sean dragged a hand to his head to get it to stop.
His hand, however, wouldn’t move.
That’s because there was a person in the way.
Livvy.
Last night.
; The lake.
Ahhhh.
Sean smiled and closed his eyes again, wanting to revisit the memories. But the damn gong wouldn’t let him. What the hell?
“Livvy.”
“Hmmm?” she murmured, shifting so that her breast brushed his stomach.
Holy hell.
There went the damn gong again. Talk about the opposite ends of the spectrum for ways he wanted to wake up.
“Livvy. The doorbell.” If that’s what one called it. Only Merriweather would want her house to have the bells of Notre Dame peeling through it, trying to impress visitors. Or intimidate them. Or both.
“Livvy, come on. I think we overslept and your grandmother’s friends are here now.” Which meant Gran was, too. Great. He needed to be somewhat on the ball after spending the night doing condom-optional things with Livvy ’til the early hours.
“Mmmm,” Livvy murmured again, this time her lips pursing so sweetly he wanted to kiss them. Then have them do that around a certain part of his anatomy.
“Come on, sweetheart.” He nudged her instead. If he kissed her, Gran and her friends would be waiting for hours. “We’ve got company.”
“Don’t wanna. Need sleep.”
“You can sleep later. Right now, we’ve got three old ladies to entertain.”
“Seniors.”
“Huh?”
She opened one eye. “Call them seniors. Old ladies will get you a handbag to the head.”
“Oh. Right. Well, come on. Being late will, too, no matter what I call them.”
He slid his arm out from under her, every cell in his body protesting. And not because of lack of sleep. Funny how his body could run on no sleep when it was engaged in such pleasurable activities. Which, sadly, was not going to be the case today.
He yawned. “Come on, Livvy. You invited them.”
“A gentleman wouldn’t remind me of that.” She dragged herself to a semi-upright position and flipped her hair back over her head with her forearm like a lion’s mane. She’d had him growling all night long, that was for sure.
And if she didn’t cover her gorgeous breasts, he would again.
He tossed a pillow at her. Then pulled another one off the floor where it’d fallen and stuck it in front of his groin. “You jump in the shower. I’ll stall them.”
“Like that?” She looked him up and down.
He felt that look the entire way. “Well no, obviously. I’ll put on some clothes.”
“Pity.” She sighed and climbed out of bed. Without the pillow. “I’ll just be a few.”
Sleepy and disgruntled, and she could still have him standing at attention. That’d be a problem when he saw his grandmother.
Luckily, the thought of his grandmother was enough to put the guy to bed, and five minutes later, after Sean had pulled on a pair of khaki shorts, a golf shirt, brushed his teeth, scrubbed his face, raked his fingers through his hair, and answered the door, he was in much better shape.
“Hey, Gran.” He kissed her on the cheek.
“You kept us waiting, Sean. I didn’t raise you like that.”
“Sorry. I was in another part of the house and, well, it’s big.”
She pursed her lips. He’d never been able to put one past Gran. “These are Merriweather’s friends. Dafna Fine and Hetta Rothenberger. Olivia invited them.”
“Yes, I know. She’ll be here in just a bit. She, uh, had a late night last night.”
He could feel the blush blaze over his skin. This was ridiculous. He was a grown man, for Christ’s sake, and if he wanted to make love to a gorgeous woman all night long, he had nothing to feel guilty about.
Well, okay, perhaps with this particular gorgeous woman he had a lot to feel guilty about, but making love to her wasn’t why and it was none of Gran’s business anyway.
“Hi!”
Speak of the devil, Livvy traipsed down the staircase with her hair up in a messy ponytail, her skin still damp from her shower, and for the first time since he’d met her, she wasn’t wearing a camisole. Well, one he could see. But her shirt was one of those blousy, lightweight Indian-print things, so she probably had one on under it.
Yeah, he didn’t need to be thinking about what was under Livvy’s clothes with his grandmother standing across from him.
There. Mention Gran and his dick went back into hibernation. Should make for an interesting day with Livvy beside him and Gran across from him.
“I’m Livvy. Dafna, it’s so good to see you again.” Livvy shook Dafna’s hand, then reached for Hetta’s. “And you must be Hetta, because this lovely woman is obviously Sean’s grandmother.” She shook Gran’s hand with both of hers. “He looks just like you.”
She thought he looked like his grandmother? Well, shit. His shrinkage might just be permanent.
“Our Merri talked about you,” said Hetta, shuffling into the foyer, her slow, pained gait making him feel guilty for even those five minutes he’d kept them waiting.
“Why don’t we go into the, uh . . .” He was going to suggest the salon, but he didn’t want Merrriweather’s friends to see the animals’ destruction. “The study? You can all have a seat and I’ll bring some snacks in.”
“Snacks? Sean, it’s almost eleven o’clock. We don’t want to ruin our lunch.”
Eleven? Where had the morning gone?
Livvy’s face blazed when he looked at her. Oh, yeah. Sleeping off a night of great sex, that’s where.
“Then I’ll see what I can do about lunch.”
“Hang on.” Livvy held up her hand. “I’ll do it. And let’s all go into the kitchen. I’m sure you want a tour, and that’s the best place to start.”
“That’s true,” said Gran, helping Hetta along. “The kitchen is the heart of a home.”
Sean followed along behind them, worried that Hetta wasn’t going to make it. She surprised him when she not only did, but also climbed onto one of the barstools. Amazing what a determined woman could do.
“How do you like the kitchen?” asked Hetta, adjusting her skirt around her. “Merriweather had the designer research the best appliances for baking when she was redoing it. That’s why there are different brands. She wanted to make sure that you had something you’d like when you moved in.”
“Oh, but—”
Sean squeezed her hand. No need to destroy the women’s delusions. Well, two of them. Gran didn’t have any. Though holding Livvy’s hand might give her other ones. She’d been after all four of them to settle down and give her great-grandchildren.
The thought started a slow burn in the middle of his chest. He’d love to do that for Gran, but he hadn’t found the right person yet. And with Livvy’s moratorium on children, he still hadn’t, no matter how much he was attracted to her.
LIVVY felt a little guilty when she saw Sean’s grandmother narrow in on their joined hands, but she’d been glad of it after Hetta’s little bomb. Her grandmother had made over the kitchen with her in mind?
Livvy glanced out the window expecting to see a raging snowstorm as Hell froze over, but, nope. A sunny, cloudless sky, the vibrant blue looking just like a postcard.
“That’s right.” Dafna slid onto the barstool next to Hetta. “She was adamant about getting you a convection oven and a traditional one. And she called the nurse from your school to get your height so she could have the baking counter at just the right level.”
Livvy was not going to look at Sean. She was certain Merriweather hadn’t had that in mind when she’d been doing her measuring.
But what had she been doing with the measuring? And the stove situation? Did Merriweather think she was capable of inheriting this house or not?
And why was the answer so important?
“And the cooktop. Remember, Dafna?” Hetta tapped Dafna’s arm. “She talked about having a ten-burner stove custom designed for you, wit
h a griddle and a grill and a couple other gadgets, but the decorator convinced her that a six burner with a warming tray was more manageable. What do you think, Olivia? Was the decorator right? Would that have been overboard?”
This whole revelation was overboard. She’d had no idea that Merriweather had gone to so much trouble. And she had no idea why. But it didn’t change things. She couldn’t stay here. She was one woman and this was a mansion. A tribute to ideals she didn’t agree with. She couldn’t be bought for a set of high-end appliances.
She did, however, use those high-end appliances for making lunch—and enjoyed them way too much. Hetta and Dafna kept up a running commentary of the different renovation stories “Merri” had shared with them, as well as snippets of her grandmother’s life. Things she’d never have known if she hadn’t invited them over.
There was the fire engine Merriweather donated to the local fire station with the extended ladder. Probably to ensure they could save the highest turret on the Martinson estate, but, still, she had donated it. Then there was the circus she’d arranged for the local church’s fund-raising event. Livvy would have thought her grandmother would have just written a check, but instead she’d done something everyone could enjoy. Livvy was surprised to hear her grandmother had turned down the honor of opening the event, saying that it was all about the community, not the family.
“And then there was that elderly couple who lost their house,” said Hetta. “Remember, Dafna? It was so out of character for Merri to do something so personal. What was that couple’s name again? I can’t remember it.”
Dafna got a weird look on her face. “It’s not important now, Hetta.”
“Sure it is. I’m sure Olivia would love to know who her grandmother helped.” Hetta put a hand on her throat. “My memory’s not as good as it once was, I’m afraid.” She poked Dafna in the arm. “Come now, Dafna. If you remember, tell the girl.”
Dafna fiddled with a button on her blouse. “It was the Carollas.” She looked at Livvy. “Merriweather rebuilt your grandparents’ home. She was saving it for you.”
Livvy didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to think. Merriweather had done that? For her? Why? Her maternal grandparents had disowned both her and her mother. If anything, Livvy would’ve expected Merriweather to be the one to burn the house in the first place in retaliation for sending her mother out on the streets with an illegitimate Martinson. Bad enough she was illegitimate, but homeless, too? It was a wonder Merriweather had waited until Livvy was five to push for the adoption.
What a Woman Wants (A Manley Maids Novel) Page 24
