by Lisa Plumley
She could say that because his flaws weren’t evident so far down his body, Griffin knew. She could say that because his nose was practically miles away from his midsection, his drawers and his—apparently fascinating, if Olivia’s attention were any indication—drawstring closure to those underdrawers. “I’m not handsome,” he objected. “Anything else. Big, yes. Strong—”
“Yes. You are.” Suddenly serious, Olivia grasped his face. “I see all of you, Griffin,” she promised. “And I love it.”
I love you, he imagined her saying, but he just couldn’t bear it. Not then. Not when so many new feelings already roiled inside him. Instead, Griffin closed his eyes. He focused on the remarkable feeling of their bodies pressed so tightly together, then returned his attention to Olivia’s face, flushed and sweet in the soft glow of the lamplight. Gently, he kissed her.
“Are you sure of this?” If he didn’t ask now, he would surely lack the wits to do so later. “Of us, being together?”
“Am I sure?” Olivia gave a jubilant laugh. “I’m all but debauched already!” she teased. “If you don’t finish the job now, I’ll be deeply disappointed.” With a mischievous grin, she kissed him. Then, bravely, she flung her arms to the sides, beside the piles of pillows that cradled her head. “I’m ready, Griffin,” she told him. “If you want to undress me, you may.”
Galvanized by her words, humbled by her trust in him, Griffin could only stare at her. He swallowed hard. Here was a woman who cared for him, who thought him handsome, who had the audacity to tease him and dare him into loving her. If ever Providence had thought to toss a perfect mate into his path, Olivia was that woman. She was kind and brave. She was…
…lifting one of her hands, languidly tracing a path down the almost unwrapped lapels of his dressing gown, biting her lip as she tentatively touched that garment’s knotted sash…
“Or should I go first,” she asked, “and undress you?”
With a groan, Griffin shook his head. “There’ll be time for that later,” he assured her, trying not to think of the new and indecorously snug fit of his long underdrawers. Instead, he thought of the barrier presented to him by Olivia’s wrap…and all the ways he could defeat it. Beneath her wrap, he knew, Olivia waited for him, more unguarded than she’d ever been, bare and feminine and full of secrets he longed to explore.
“First, I want to do this.” He kissed her again, losing himself in the heat and wetness of her mouth. “And this.” He lowered his lips to her neck, inhaling the rosy scent of her skin. “And this.” Through her clothes, he cupped her breasts again. He rubbed his thumbs slowly across her peaked nipples, heard her gasp in response and felt himself grow twice as hard. At this rate, his underdrawers’ drawstring would prove insufficient to contain him, Griffin thought dizzily.
Then he quit thinking altogether…and just felt.
He felt Olivia, squirming and breathless and moaning beneath him as he went on stroking her. He felt himself, mindlessly grinding against her, needing a sensual release that their half-tumbled-off clothes still prevented. He felt both of them together, kissing and touching and wanting, sharing in a swift, heedless discovery that felt all the more precious for its intensity. Their coming together was…unstoppable now.
With Olivia, Griffin learned he could not always exercise patience. Or good judgment. Or even, sometimes, all the gentleness he wanted. His passion made him rough; his love for her made him try desperately to slow down. But it was no use.
He kissed her and needed more. He touched her and took more. He heard Olivia moan and couldn’t help smiling with savage pride. He made Olivia feel wonderful, Griffin knew…and before this night was through, he knew he would make both of them feel that way. For tonight, at least, The Lorndorff was heaven on earth, and its attic rooms were where paradise could be found.
Wanting beyond everything to share that with Olivia, Griffin opened her wrapped robe. Kissing her, he slid its silky panels down her arms. Soon that garment was cast aside, but his tutelage of Olivia wasn’t finished. Tenderly, Griffin lifted her arms. “Go ahead,” he urged. “Hold me. Here. Like this.”
He helped her wrap her arms around his middle, but Olivia needed no further encouragement. Eagerly, she held him close. She pressed a heartfelt kiss of her own to his neck.
“You feel…mmm…so good!” she cried. “I’m sorry if I’m holding you too tightly,” she whispered, “only I’m not sure—”
“Not too tightly. Never too tightly.” Never let go.
Unable to say as much, Griffin kissed Olivia instead. He kissed her and caressed her and felt her hands roving all over his still clothed back, and her enthusiasm—her desire—only urged him on. Groaning with enjoyment, Griffin took advantage of Olivia’s new state of near undress by filling his hands with her chemise’s hem. Mad with need, he lifted the fabric higher. Its lace-trimmed ruffles edged up past her knee, past her thigh…
Only another few tugs separated him from undressing her, but Griffin abandoned his quest there. The temptation to touch all the bare skin he’d revealed was too great to resist. Full of passion and affection and devotion, he swept his hand down Olivia’s shin, up the curve of her calf, and then higher still.
Feeling her quake beneath him, he stroked her knee, knowing he should calm her…knowing they should take things much more slowly. But that seemed as impossible for Olivia as it was for him. To his shock, Griffin felt her mimicking his earlier movements. Her fingers tugged at his dressing gown’s sash. Making an adorably determined face, she undid that problematic knot. She wrenched the panels apart. She took her time looking at his naked chest, his tensed midsection, his underdrawers…
Then she smiled. Moments later, his dressing gown struck the floor beside her bed in a bundled up, triumphant heap.
“Now we can really be close,” Olivia breathed, and Griffin had the sense, looking into her eyes, that she loved that idea.
He did, too. Lowering himself atop her, careful not to crush her with his weight, Griffin kissed her. He loved that Olivia was forward with him. He loved that she wasn’t afraid to show herself or to see him, that both of them were vulnerable and needful and full of inhibitions that fell away at the flicker of the lamplight. Looking at Olivia, beautiful and giving against the pillows and disarrayed coverlet, Griffin had to have her. He had to love her, to kiss her…to deftly unfasten the ribbons at her chemise and pluck away the laces, one by one, until the gap he’d created let him pull down that diaphanous cotton to reveal first one perfect breast, then the next.
Awed by her, made generous by her, Griffin pleasured her everywhere. He caressed her breasts and made Olivia sigh. He kissed her nipples and made her moan. He tongued her there and made her cry out…even made her clutch his head to her chest, where his wild, long dark hair spilled across her pale skin, turning him into nothing more than a conquering creature of passion and strength…and her into nothing less than a sweet, salvation-providing maiden—one who would fill his dreams forever.
Except this maiden was real. This maiden touched him boldly. She explored his chest and his shoulders and his midsection. She gazed at him with wonder and curiosity. She dared to kiss his neck. She pulled his hair, if that was what was required to make him kiss her where she most longed for him to. With him, Olivia was free and uniquely herself, needing and giving and taking in equal measure—and near equal nakedness.
Thrilled that her boldness met his own, Griffin matched her with every caress, every kiss, every new place to explore that which had once been forbidden but was now his to take. Moments flew past, barely noticed as he returned to Olivia’s knee, then slid his hand higher. Her thighs felt silken and strong; her breath panted across his bare shoulder as he touched her.
“Oh!” In a low voice, Olivia cried out. “Is that…?”
Whatever she meant to say next was lost in a breathless moan. Griffin had found her most feminine secrets. Even as she tossed her head against the pillows, he went on touching her, wholly unable to hold back a moan o
f his own. Knowing Olivia this way, so intimately, was…exquisite. Knowing that she liked the way he touched her would live inside him forever. Striving to be gentle, determined to please her, Griffin caressed her.
Olivia arched herself higher in response, helplessly trying to get closer to him. Instinctively, she flexed her thighs. Her whole body trembled, already on the verge of something she’d doubtless never experienced and would not understand…but at the same moment as Griffin began to whisper comfortingly to her, he felt Olivia’s hand swerve to the front of his underdrawers.
At her touch, his entire being went rigid. Gritting his teeth, Griffin released a groan of pleasure that would have scared him—had Olivia not made a passionately similar sound at the same moment. Acting on instinct and need, again mimicking him in a way that he vigorously approved of, Olivia stroked him.
She panted his name, and Griffin was lost. He lifted his face to hers. He saw Olivia’s wide-eyed, marveling look as she went on stroking his manhood, and knew that he would disgrace them both if he let her continue. Her touch was simply too potent. Her eagerness was too arousing. Her love was too much.
Panting now, too, Griffin covered her hand with his.
“Wait,” he breathed. “Just…feel.”
Making himself go slowly, just for now, he went on caressing Olivia with his free hand. Her slick femininity unfurled beneath his touch, hot and pouting and desirous, and it was all Griffin could do not to lose control of himself as he felt Olivia tensing beneath him…as he felt her surrender completely.
“Oh! Griffin!” Her gaze flew to his. “I feel…”
Before she could say, Olivia came undone. Bucking wildly beneath his hand, she reached a height of pleasure he’d never imagined she would…and then, when her gleaming body finally quit shuddering, she stared at him in surprise. She breathed heavily, gave a giddy giggle then stroked his face.
“I don’t know what just happened,” she said in a dazed tone, “but I just couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry if I—”
Passionately, Griffin kissed her. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Gently, he stroked her face, too. “If that hadn’t happened, I’d be ashamed to call myself a man.”
“Oh. I see.” With her heart pounding, Olivia regarded him through dreamy eyes. Then, “Can that happen for you, too?”
Nearly overcome at the thought, Griffin only nodded.
But Olivia seemed to have found a new sense of liveliness. Wearing a brazen look, she examined him…all the way down to his underdrawers. She seemed startled to find her hand still atop his clothing—still atop the long, unyielding length of him.
“Oh! I quite forgot myself,” Olivia said. Then, wearing a look of pure discovery, she began stroking him again. First tentatively. Then interestedly. Then joyously…and vigorously.
Her reaction was so uniquely her that Griffin found himself newly amazed. Filled with an indescribable sense of joy that a woman like Olivia had come to love him, he somehow found the strength to close his eyes, cover her hand with his, then stop her diligent, insanity-inducing ministrations a second time.
“I,” he said in a husky voice, “have a better idea.”
“Thank you, but I’m enjoying this one,” she protested.
Griffin wasn’t having it. An instant later, he took control. He kissed Olivia into a fresh round of wriggling, moaning insensibility. He caressed her passionately atop her feather-filled mattress. Then he stood beside the bed, smiled at her and dropped his underdrawers. Bared to the midnight air, ready to make Olivia his at last, Griffin inhaled deeply.
Olivia leaned up on her elbow to look at him. Then…
“You’re very thrilling to look at,” she mused. Her gaze roved over his shoulders and arms, past his chest and middle, straight down to…his feet. Then, shyly, it roamed higher.
Griffin felt himself react to her intensely interested scrutiny in a predictable way. His member throbbed. Then, right then, he needed Olivia to reach for him, to touch him…
And she did. As though divining what he wanted—or sharing the impetus of that desire—Olivia reached out. But Griffin knew he couldn’t help reacting if she caressed him again. Eager and passion filled, he rejoined her on the bed. He brought himself down over her.
He gazed into Olivia’s face and let the full weight of what they were about to share sink into him. After this, Griffin knew, they would always be part of each other. Forever.
With the same synchronicity they’d shared earlier, they came together. Olivia eagerly parted her thighs, urging him to settle between them. Griffin pulled her nearer and kissed her deeply, letting her know how remarkable this was between them.
“I want you, Griffin,” Olivia said then…and there was nothing he could have done, from that moment on, to stop himself from loving her fully. He simply needed her far too much.
With a single unerring stroke, he entered her. As readily as he’d ever dreamed it would, her body welcomed him. Hot and wet and shuddering, Olivia grabbed his back with both hands. She urged him on, tossing her head against the pillows again, and as Griffin reared up to look at her, as he went on plunging himself inside her, he knew that this was a night he would never forget.
Maybe, a small and unasked-for part of him knew, it was a night he would never forgive himself for, as well.
But Griffin couldn’t think about regrets or mistakes or the honor and goodness that had slipped from his fingers like water past the banks of Morrow Creek in the moment he’d begun making love to Olivia. Because she was in his arms. She was moaning in passion beneath him. She was clutching his backside in a way that shocked him and drove him on, and Griffin simply couldn’t hold on any longer. Thrusting again, Griffin felt himself losing control completely…and he could do nothing except give in.
Again and again, ecstasy shook him. Aware of nothing except the need to have more of it, Griffin lost himself in Olivia’s arms. He’d never known such ferocious pleasure. He’d never experienced such a complete unraveling of what he knew to be true and real and right. In that moment, love was true.
Olivia was real. Being with her was right.
A heartbeat later, some of that started to change.
But Griffin felt too caught up in the aftermath of the storm they’d both shared to think about…much of anything at all. So he only set aside the unexpected, unwanted, unforgivable feelings that swamped him in that moment. Instead, he focused on Olivia. He pulled her close. He kissed her anew. He remembered the sound of her intimate cries as he’d brought her pleasure, and he tied up those memories with a sailor’s knot too tight to be broken. Because, far too late, Griffin knew that this time, he’d made a mistake much too grave to ever be forgiven for it.
Especially—most of all—by Olivia herself.
Chapter Eighteen
Awakening as the late-morning sunshine poked its way into her rooms through the closed but uncurtained window that Griffin had masterfully shut the night before, Olivia slowly became aware of the scent of clove-oil soap clinging to her rumpled sheets. Groggily, she sniffed it. Then, she smiled.
Griffin. That was Griffin’s unmistakable scent. Along with the aromas of stubbornness and passion—because, when Olivia was around him, she felt certain those qualities possessed enough tangibility to be inhaled—clove-oil soap was uniquely him.
Drawing in another big lungful, Olivia stretched lazily. Eyes closed, she wiggled her toes beneath her coverlet. She made fists with her hands and stuck out her arms. Ah. Then, struck by a sudden and unfamiliar sense of vague soreness, she went still.
Oh. Yes. Griffin had loved her last night.
She still had the slightly swollen mouth, giddier than giddy feelings and unaccustomed feminine aches to prove it.
Feeling butterflies anew over her recollection of it, Olivia sighed. After everything they’d shared, she and Griffin had cuddled. They’d talked. They’d washed themselves, laughing over the icy leftover bathwater they’d used for the sake of discretion among the hotel staff. Then th
ey’d cuddled again, and then—after a tiny bit more elated canoodling—they’d slept.
It turned out, Olivia had learned, that being held in a man’s arms had a remarkably soporific effect. Especially if that man was a woman’s beloved. Because she had no sooner scooted herself into Griffin’s arms, felt him kiss her cheek and heard him rumble a low-voiced good-night than she was fast asleep.
She’d dreamed of wedding bells and spiced wedding cake.
She’d awakened with thoughts of proposals on her mind.
That was only natural, Olivia told herself as she languidly prepared to begin her first morning as Griffin’s official paramour—and he, hers. Griffin loved her. She loved him. The intimacies they’d shared last night were ample evidence of that.
She still couldn’t believe she’d felt that way! She hadn’t even known such sensations existed. Recalling it now nearly made Olivia blush—but that hadn’t stopped her. With Griffin, she’d been downright shameless. She’d ogled him. She’d groped him. She’d wantonly let herself be thrown on her own pine-framed bed and ravished until she’d begged for more. Given all that, if Griffin didn’t propose to her… Well, Olivia couldn’t imagine it.
Of course Griffin would propose to her. A decent man did not make love to an innocent woman and then not suggest marriage! Olivia knew that. She had married friends. Most of them had indulged in certain…intimacies with their husbands before tying the knot. People got carried away, like Olivia and Griffin had done. Or they just couldn’t wait. Some women arrived at their own weddings with twice-let-out dresses concealing their newly fruitful figures. Most people in town understood that. As long as the gentleman in question behaved honorably and the lady in question remained decorous, things worked out fine.
On the other hand…
Olivia had also known fallen women, some of whom had come to Morrow Creek to make a fresh start. Some claimed to be widows. Some kept to themselves and let the gossips decide what their pasts might have involved. Either way, it wasn’t entirely unusual in the Arizona Territory to encounter an unmarried woman with a pregnant belly or even with a baby in tow.
