Her choppy breathing hitched when his hands coasted over her hips, down her thighs, then under her full skirt. His fingers glided slowly up her bare legs and slid beneath the wisp of sheer lace of her panties. In a heartbeat he’d slid her panties down her legs and helped her step out of them.
When he straightened, their gazes collided for a brief instant and the heat burning in his eyes singed her. Then he was kissing her again, hooking a hand beneath her knee to raise it. She immediately wrapped her calf around his hip. And all bets were off.
He assaulted her senses on all fronts-his lips and tongue dancing with hers, one long-fingered hand teasing her breasts, and the other talented hand gliding along the back of her bare raised thigh to lightly knead her bottom, then play with her aching sex.
At the first glide of his fingers over her wet, swollen folds, she groaned…a deep rumbling vibration that turned into a purr of pleasure. He teased her mercilessly, and with such unerring accuracy in finding the exact rhythm her body craved, it was as if only hours instead of years had passed since he’d made love to her. As if he recalled precisely what she liked. How she loved being touched right…oooooh…there. Just like…aaaaah…that.
She felt him slip one, then two fingers inside her, stroking, caressing her, driving her relentlessly closer to the edge. Breaking off their kiss, she gulped in air, her head dropping limply back to roll against the door. He immediately feasted on her exposed neck, kissing, nipping, licking, while his fingers drove her wild. Just one more, one more stroke…
Her orgasm slammed into her, pulsing through her with tremors that ripped a cry from her throat…a cry that dissolved into a long pleasure-filled moan as the spasms slowly tapered off.
Breathless, boneless, heart pounding, she opened her eyes. Adam was looking at her, his expression stark with arousal, his own breathing labored. He’d wrapped his arms around her, thank goodness as they were the only thing keeping her upright.
“Whoa,” she managed to say. “You need to come with a warning label: Caution-Loss of All Control Directly Ahead.” No real surprise-that was exactly how he’d affected her in the past. Still, she’d thought she would have outgrown that reaction to him.
Apparently not.
“In that case, you need a warning label, too. Caution-This Woman Will Make You Forget Time, Place and Your Own Damn Name-Just by Looking at You. But that’s no shocker since that’s the way it always was with you.”
Surprise crept through her postorgasmic haze at his words. For her, their lovemaking, the way he’d made her feel, had been nothing short of miraculous, and in her naïveté she’d just assumed it was the same for him as he’d always seemed satisfied. But when he’d suggested they take a break, see other people, she’d concluded that he obviously hadn’t been so satisfied after all.
His hands dropped to lightly knead her bottom through the material of her skirt, effectively dissolving every thought from her head. “Believe it or not,” he said in a husky voice, “it wasn’t my intention to pounce on you the minute I walked in the door.”
“Oh? Bummer.”
He leaned in and chuckled against her neck, the vibration curling spirals of warmth down to her toes. “I like to think I’ve acquired a little more finesse than that, but, well, I find you…” He straightened and looked into her eyes. “Irresistible.”
Mallory looped her arms around his neck and rubbed her pelvis slowly against the hard bulge in his jeans. “Not to put too fine a point on it, but I think I’m the one who pounced on you.”
“Uh-huh. And how many complaints did you hear?”
“None. But I’m the one who reaped all the benefits.”
His clever fingers walked her skirt up and his hands curved over her bare butt, lifting her higher against him. “I wouldn’t say that. Besides, the night’s still young.”
“Hmm. Already I can see what will be my biggest weakness in any dealings with you.”
“What’s that?”
“My knees.”
“Ah. Which would mean a lot of lying down. A terrible problem, but I’m all kinds of empathetic.”
“Lying down…now that sounds like a great idea.” Reaching around, she slid her hands over his and gently slipped from his grasp. Entwining their fingers, she was about to lead him toward her bedroom when the lights suddenly flickered. She paused and they flickered madly again, then went out, plunging the room into darkness.
7
Saturday, 9:00 p.m.
“HEY, WHO TURNED OUT THE lights?” Adam asked, mourning the fact that the best view in all of New York had disappeared from right in front of him in the blink of an eye. He moved to stand directly behind Mallory, his chest pressed to her back. Settling his hands against her smooth stomach, he lightly brushed his thumbs along the soft undersides of her breasts. “Did you forget to pay your electric bill?”
She leaned back against him, raising her arms up and back to encircle his neck. “Nope. Power must have gone out. It’ll probably come back on in a minute. Mmm…” Her voice trailed off as his fingers lightly teased her nipples.
“In the meanwhile, I’ve got you all to myself in the dark.”
“So it would seem.” She wriggled her bottom against his straining erection and a low growl rumbled in his throat.
“If you keep doing that, we won’t make it to the bedroom,” he warned, nuzzling her soft nape. A delicate shiver ran through her and he inwardly smiled. Ah, yes, she still liked that particular spot. And she was still as incredibly responsive. Uninhibited. Fascinating. Exciting. But then, everything about her had fascinated and captivated him, in and out of bed. Her laughter. Her spirit. Her kind, generous nature. Based on all the magic she’d made him feel, there was no need to question why so many songs and poems were devoted to the wonder of first love.
“We might not make it from this very spot.” She turned in his arms, one hand skimming into his hair to urge his mouth to hers while her other hand glided down to stroke him through his jeans. “I don’t suppose you have a condom handy?” she asked in a breathless whisper against his lips.
He instantly cursed the fact that he hadn’t slipped one into his back pocket. “In the bag I brought.” Which meant his supply was less than ten feet away-which at the moment seemed like ten miles.
Her fingers slipped beneath his waistband and brushed over the head of his penis through his boxer briefs. Heat shot through him and he sucked in a hissing breath.
“Hmm. You brought wine, a rose and condoms,” she murmured in a smoky voice. “Good combination.”
Trailing his hands up and down her bare back, he said, “I thought so. But I’m thinking maybe I didn’t bring enough condoms.”
“Oh? How many did you bring?”
“Only a dozen.”
She chuckled and grazed her fingertips over him again, dulling his vision. “That should last us till dinner. After that we can dip into my supply. Of course, if the power doesn’t come on soon, cooking isn’t going to happen.”
“No problem. I’m happy with the cooking that’s going on right here. Kitchen-not necessary.” He slid his hands beneath her skirt, loving the way her breath caught at the gesture. “It’s not what you have for dinner, it’s who you have it with.”
“Glad you think so, although I had planned to impress you with my pasta.”
“Sweetheart, you’ve already impressed me. I’d be happy with peanut butter. Believe me, the way to a man’s heart isn’t through his stomach-it’s farther south.”
“I see.” With a flick of her fingers, she opened the button on his jeans, and a breath of relief escaped him. “You’re going to get hungry eventually, Adam.”
“I’m hungry right now.” He leaned down and lightly bit the side of her neck. “Starving, in fact.”
She slowly lowered his zipper, and he went still in an agony of anticipation for her touch.
“So…do you prefer the bedroom, or the sofa?” she asked. Her fingers wrapped around his erection and lightly squeezed, derailing
his entire train of thought. After several seconds of stroking him, she made a tsking sound then said, “You seem to be having difficulty making a decision.”
He said the only word he could manage. “Huh?”
His eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness and he saw the sexy smile that curved her lips while she continued her driving-him-insane caress. “Bedroom or sofa?”
For an answer, he swung her up into his arms and carried her toward the den’s long sectional sofa as it was closer-only a room’s length away.
“My choice is you,” he muttered, nipping kisses along her jaw as he crossed the room. “On the sofa. In the bed. I don’t care. As long as it’s you. Now.”
“Now sounds good to me.”
He deposited her on the plush cushion where she landed with a gentle bounce. Even in the dim light, there was no mistaking the arousal glittering in her eyes. His gaze skimmed over her, taking in her lush mouth, her full breasts topped with aroused nipples and her hiked-up skirt that revealed the triangle of dark curls at the apex of her thighs. His temperature jumped up a few more degrees and he clenched his hands to keep from reaching for her. Much as he hated to leave her for even an instant, he knew he’d better get a condom now. Once he touched her again, all bets would be off.
He quickly strode back to the shopping bag in the foyer and rummaged through the assortment of things he’d purchased. He’d just snatched up the box of condoms when a sharp knock sounded at the door.
For several seconds he remained still, breathing hard, then his gaze jumped to Mallory, who looked startled. Before either of them could say anything, or even move, another series of sharp knocks sounded.
“Mallory?” came a muffled female voice accompanied by more insistent knocking. “Are you there, dear? It’s me, Mrs. Trigali. Hellllooooo. Are you there? Oh, I hope you are. Please answer the door.”
Based on the way Mallory jumped to her feet and struggled to pull up her top, Adam suspected that he unfortunately wasn’t going to be needing a condom quite as soon as he’d thought.
His suspicions were confirmed when she called out, “I’m here, Mrs. Trigali. Just give me a minute.”
Still adjusting her straps, she hurried over to him, and said, “I’m so sorry… If it were anyone else, I’d ignore it.” She reached down and scooped up her panties and his shirt. “But she’s my next-door neighbor and she lives alone and she sounds worried.”
He dropped the box of condoms back into the shopping bag, torn between the desire to yank out his hair in frustration and an inexplicable urge to laugh. Jeez, some things never changed. Clearly the timing curse that had plagued them in the past was still alive and well in the present.
“No problem.” Wincing, he zipped up-very carefully- then took his Polo shirt from her. He slipped the soft cotton over his head, leaving it untucked. “But I’m gonna want a rain check.”
“Me, too.”
“All right, two rain checks.”
She laughed, and stepped into her panties. “I meant I’m going to want a rain check also.”
“Heeelllooo,” came Mrs. Trigali’s muffled voice, accompanied by more knocking. “Mallory?”
“Coming,” she called out. Then she stood on her toes and brushed a quick kiss against his mouth. “I really am sorry. I owe you one.”
“A second ago you said two.”
“Okay, two.”
“How about three?”
“I’ll think about it. Why don’t you go in the den and have a seat?”
“’Fraid sitting wouldn’t be comfortable yet. You want me to make myself scarce?”
“Only if you want to,” she said, heading toward the door. “But if you stay there, brace yourself for a barrage of questions.”
Before he could reply, she pulled open the door. The beam of a powerful flashlight arced into the foyer and he raised a hand to protect his eyes.
“There you are, my dear,” said Mrs. Trigali, crossing the threshold, her flashlight beam bouncing around before finally settling on Mallory.
“Are you all right, Mrs. Trigali?” Mallory asked.
“Oh, yes, I’m fine. I was just worried when you didn’t answer right away that you’d started the meeting without me.”
“Meeting?”
“Why, the block captains’ meeting. Surely under such circumstances we’ll be having one.”
“Circumstances?”
“Why, the blackout, of course.”
She stepped farther into the foyer and her flashlight beam fell on Adam. “Ah, I see I’m not the first to arrive.”
First to arrive? Adam thought. Oh boy, that didn’t sound good.
Mrs. Trigali moved closer to him, peering over the edge of gold-rimmed bifocals. “You must be new to the neighborhood.”
“Actually, I don’t live in the neighborhood. I’m a friend of Mallory’s.” Adam extended his hand. “Adam Clayton.”
Mrs. Trigali narrowed her eyes and gave him an assessing look his grandma Amy would have called “the once-over twice.” His lips twitched as he realized that this petite woman dressed in a crisp sleeveless blouse, khaki shorts that reached her knees and canvas sneakers reminded him of his grandmother. Her short, snow-white hair was cut in the same no-nonsense style, and she pursed her lips the same way as Grandma Amy. He figured he must have passed muster because after her scrutiny, she nodded then shook his hand. “Sophia Trigali.”
“Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”
“What’s this about a blackout?” Mallory asked.
Mrs. Trigali’s eyebrows shot up and her gaze bounced between her and Adam. “Didn’t notice that the lights went out, huh?”
Mallory felt a heated blush creep all the way up to her hairline and was grateful that the foyer wasn’t illuminated by anything brighter than Mrs. Trigali’s flashlight. Her gaze flicked to Adam, but he looked supremely calm and even a bit amused at her neighbor’s not-so-subtle question.
“We noticed,” Mallory said, “but figured it was just a momentary power failure.”
“Nothing momentary about it,” Mrs. Trigali reported. “Will you hold this for me, young man?” she asked Adam, handing him her flashlight.
“Sure.” He guided the light as Mrs. Trigali slid a canvas tote from her shoulder, setting the bag on the floor. Then she pulled a black object the size of a hardback book from the bag.
“My emergency radio,” Mrs. Trigali said, turning one of the dials. “It runs on batteries. Always Be Prepared, that’s my motto.”
“Actually, I think that’s the Boy Scout motto,” Mallory said with a grin.
“And smart young men those Scouts are.”
She made an adjustment to a knob and an announcer’s voice boomed, “…have confirmed that the power outage, which affects all of New York state, New Jersey and parts of Connecticut, is the result of a system failure. The exact cause of the failure is not known at this time, but authorities do not believe that foul play was involved. Officials and technicians are working to restore power, but have not yet announced any estimates as to when the system will go back on line. This station intends to return to our regular broadcast schedule, with frequent updates between dedications to keep you apprised of all the latest developments. Again, authorities believe that-”
Mrs. Trigali muted the volume and shook her head. “System failure. You can bet that’s not going to be fixed in the next few hours. That’s why I figured we’d be having an emergency block captains’ meeting.” She nodded toward her bag. “I brought my emergency kit-citronella candles, waterproof matches, three more flashlights, extra batteries, a box of crackers, some ham and provolone, a jar of olives, a loaf of semolina from Luigi’s bakery, a bottle of Chianti and some cards in case anybody’s up for a little canasta.” She shot Adam a piercing look. “You know how to play canasta, young man?”
Mallory watched Adam’s lips twitch with obvious amusement, and a feeling of gratitude washed through her for his patience with both the ill-timed interruption and her talkative neighbor.
She knew damn well certain men-like Greg-wouldn’t have been such good sports under the circumstances. But his kindness and patience had attracted her from the day she’d met him.
“Yes, ma’am, I know how to play canasta.”
“Humph. You any good?”
He smiled. “My grandma Amy taught me everything she knows-and now she has a hard time beating me.”
Mrs. Trigali’s expression turned fierce. “You mean to tell me you don’t let your poor granny win?”
Adam laughed. “If Grandma Amy even suspected that I’d purposely tossed a game, she’d whack me upside my head with her purse-and that purse of hers could cause a concussion.”
“Sounds like my kind of gal,” Mrs. Trigali said with a grin. “We’re looking for a fourth for our Thursday afternoon game. She live around here?”
Adam shook his head. “South Carolina.”
She heaved a mournful sigh. “Drat. You don’t live in South Carolina, do you?”
“No. Manhattan.”
“Your grandma coming up to visit you any time soon?”
“In November. For her birthday. She’s turning seventy-five, but last time I saw her, she informed me that seventy-five is the new sixty. Based on how active she is, I believe it.”
Mallory was about to interrupt, suspecting by the speculative look in Mrs. Trigali’s eyes that Adam was about to be bombarded with a barrage of personal questions of the “are you married, what do you do for a living, how are your finances” variety, but before she could say a word, a loud knocking sounded on the door.
“Anybody home?” came a muffled masculine voice. “Don’t start the meeting without me.”
“Oh, it’s that pest Ray Finney,” Mrs. Trigali said in an undertone, her features pinching with clear displeasure. “I should have known he’d show up. Well, if he thinks he’s getting any of my ham and provolone, he’s mistaken.”
Why Not Tonight? Page 9
