Touch Me: Curvy Girl Steamy Romance

by Sahara Kelly

  Eden sighed. “That’s the crux of the matter. I don’t know.”

  Dee shook her head. “You’re lying through your perfect teeth, honey. You do know. All we want is to hear you say it.”

  “And ask you a bunch of really intimate questions afterwards.” Dini’s eyes gleamed wickedly. “You’d better be ready.”

  “She will be.” Fenny hugged Eden. “She’s ready for Sean, ready for us. And perhaps ready to add some spice to her writing, huh, Eden?”

  Eden, knowing they were right, merely put her head back down on the table and groaned.

  Chapter Four

  Eden’s heart rate accelerated as she pressed the buzzer beneath Sean’s name. He’d urged her to let him cook for her, to come over to his apartment on Sunday afternoon.

  “What, no football?” She found herself teasing him.

  “It’s a bye week for my team. No game.”

  She’d smiled at the humor in his voice. “Good timing.”

  “Honestly? Don’t tell the rest of my gender, but I’m not a huge football fan.”

  “Okay, it’s our secret. But if I ever let it slip to my gender, you’ll be besieged.” She grinned to herself. “A man who cooks and doesn’t like football? Hell, Sean, that puts you right up there on Mount Olympus with the Gods of Desirable Males. And they’re few and far between. Especially in this neck of the woods.”

  “So what do you say? Will you come and taste my award-winning chicken paprikash?”

  “Mmm. Sounds good.”

  “Awesome. Any time after about three. You have my address—want me to come pick you up?”

  “Nope.” She’d known exactly where he lived, having been a Bostonian ever since she could remember. “You stay with your cooking pots. I’ll be there.”

  And the die was cast. It had been easy—almost too easy. Eden wanted to see him again, to explore the chemistry between them and find out if it was real. If being in the same room with him would once again light up her sexual impulses, or if that had been a freak moment in time stimulated by wine and a handsome man.

  “Is this a beautiful woman with an appetite for physics and Hungarian cooking?”

  The voice sounded tinny through the speaker. Eden chuckled. “No. It’s the Wicked Witch and her minions delivering your order for eight vats of pickled toad feet.”

  “Oh good. I just ran out. Come up to the sixth floor and follow the divine fragrance.”

  The electronic chimes let Eden inside and she quickly found herself on the sixth floor of the nicely modernized old building. And yes, there was an incredible smell in the corridor, easily traceable to Sean’s apartment number.

  She barely had time to raise her hand before the door opened and Sean was smiling at her. Clad, improbably, in an apron that announced she should “Kiss the Cook”.

  He took the decision out of her hands by grabbing her wrist, tugging her inside and kissing her thoroughly.

  “Hi.”

  “Mmm.” Eden couldn’t help her mouth watering. Besides the fact he was every bit as yummy in jeans, a t-shirt and bare feet as he was in more formal clothing or bike gear, he tasted of spices and really fine culinary flavors. They’d blended on his tongue, which he was busily sliding over hers once again.

  “I figure kissing you is a much better way to let you taste what I’m cooking than giving you a spoonful. Besides, I like kissing you more than stirring the pot.”

  Privately, Eden agreed, but she still put a hand on his chest and pushed away a little even though he was stirring her personal pot rather nicely. “Does this mean I don’t get that spoonful? It smells heavenly.”

  Sean sighed dramatically. “Oh well. If you must. Come on into the kitchen.”

  She glanced around at the neat apartment, noticing the preponderance of books—not unexpected given his choice of occupation. But it was tidy, all the same. Lived-in, certainly, as evidenced by the keys casually dropped on a pile of papers next to the door, the jacket hanging unevenly on a tiny hall tree and the eclectic rock-band posters tacked here and there.

  The kitchen adjoined the living area, separated only by a countertop where Sean obviously ate, since there were two stools tucked beneath it.

  “Here.” He pulled her in front of the stove, lifted the lid of a large pot and waved some of the fragrant steam toward her.

  “Ohhh.” Eden sniffed appreciatively. “That’s good.”

  “It’s got a while to simmer. No tasting ’til then.” He brushed her hair away from her cheek and his gaze fell to her lips. “Not with a spoon, anyway.”

  “You’re a wicked man. And a good cook.” Eden watched him. “That’s a dangerous combination.”

  “I know.” His smile was more a sensual curve of his mouth. “Let’s go sit down for a bit and let the chicken do its thing.”

  Keeping her hand in his, Sean took her into the living room, pausing as she moved instinctively to the window and stared out over the Charles River. “My God, this is a fabulous view.”

  Fall colors were beginning to dapple the trees on either side of the water, a few boats bobbed happily and several crews were sculling their way through the little waves, cleaving white wakes and dimples from their oars. They were probably from the University boathouses that dotted the opposite bank.

  “It is, isn’t it?” Sean stood close beside her. “I loved it in the summer. I can’t wait to see it in the winter.”

  “You’re staying that long?” Eden turned to him. “I thought you said it was only a summer course.”

  “It was.” He stroked her neck, making her tingle. “Then I met you.”

  “Sean, I—” Eden floundered at the implications of what he’d just said.

  “Don’t worry, Eden. I was pretty much sold on the idea of extending my stay. I’m on a year’s sabbatical. Once I’d gotten here I realized the surroundings—including you—were a lot more attractive than the experimental facility in Illinois that was my other option.” He leaned down and tugged on her earlobe with his teeth. “I love to teach. I’d forgotten how much over the past few years.”

  She sighed, half with pleasure, half with relief. Relief that he would be there for longer than a month or so. And relief that he hadn’t made such an important decision based on a woman he’d only known for a week or so. She would have been very uncomfortable at the notion she’d changed his life.

  Although she was starting to wonder if he’d changed hers.

  He seemed to love touching her, she realized. Whether it was a hug, a stroke of his fingertips or a quick nibbling kiss, there was always some part of him touching some part of her.

  While her eyes absorbed the picturesque view, her body analyzed its responses to this man.

  And they were all positive. She could detect his scent over the delicious cooking smells and he made her mouth water even more. There was something distinctive, something her trained nose recognized as male spice. If she could’ve duplicated it, she would have, but it was too elemental to be categorized into essential oils.

  Eden could barely overcome the urge to turn her head, bury it in his neck and inhale. Once again she found herself surprised at her own yearnings. It might have been a combination of the warm afternoon sunshine, the scent of something wonderful coming from the stove—or it might simply have been Sean himself.

  Whatever it was, Eden felt the tensions dissolving from her spine as their bodies leaned comfortably together. She was ready to accept his offer of wine, thus ignoring the lecture she’d given herself on the way to his apartment. The one about not mixing too much wine with too much sexy man.

  She sat down on his couch as he opened the bottle, luxuriating in the rare sensation of being waited on, of having her wants and needs considered, and being desired. She’d seen it in his eyes and wondered if he’d seen something similar in her own gaze.

  And as she sipped the soft white Chablis, Eden arrived at the conclusion she knew, deep in her heart, was inevitable.

  She was going to have sex with Sean
Patrick Rafferty.

  “What?” He was grinning at her from his seat next to her on the small couch.

  “Nothing. Just thinking how nice this is and how glad I am you’re not much of a football fan.”

  He put his glass on the coffee table in front of them. “So. Talk to me.”

  “I’d rather listen to you. Tell me something scientific.”

  “Hmm.” Sean thought for a moment or two. “Okay. If it’s green—it’s biology. If it stinks—it’s chemistry. And if it doesn’t work—it’s physics.”

  Eden laughed. “That’s pretty fundamental. And definitely a slap in the face of all three.”

  “At least I chose the non-green, non-stinky one.” His toes idly brushed her ankle and rubbed her bare calf. “Why didn’t you ever go back to medicine?”

  Eden had told Sean about her abortive try at being a doctor. They’d touched on the general topics. She’d never told him the details. Never told him about the child she’d had to watch fade away as a disease stole his short life. A disease for which there was no cure in anybody’s medicine cabinet. It was a loss that had claimed more than her son. It had destroyed her marriage as well.

  Now wasn’t the time to get into that. She was feeling too relaxed, too comfortable to raise pain from her past. She simply smiled into her wine. “I like the idea of magic. It’s more colorful. And it smells better. I go for non-stinky too.”

  “Oh, speaking of which…” Sean pulled open the little drawer beneath the coffee table and pulled out a small bottle. “A student of mine came into class with a few of these the other day. She’s thinking of starting a little online business or something. Wanted to get people’s reactions.” He held it toward Eden. “I thought of you and swiped a bottle. Want to give it your professional opinion?”

  Eden took the little vial from Sean’s hand, curious as to its contents. “Perfume?”

  Sean nodded. “Yep. Try it.”

  Eden eased the stopper out and lifted it to her nose, letting the initial scent free into the air. This would be the “top note”, the first thing a customer detects when she tries a new scent.

  “Oooh. This is…nice.” She sniffed. “Delicate. Warm. Sunshine and flowers. Green lily, maybe, with a touch of violets.” She tapped a drop onto her fingertip and rubbed it on the pulse point at her wrist, then beneath her ear. “Still nice. Not too sweet a middle note.”

  “Huh?” Sean looked puzzled.

  “Perfume is made up of notes. Like music. The top note is the most prominent when you first smell it. The middle note is released by the warmth of the body. And the base note lingers, tying the other notes together.” She sniffed again and nodded in approval. “That’s a simplified explanation, of course, since some perfumes are combinations of over a dozen different essences. But this one’s got something, a uniquely feminine personality without being too gooey.”

  “Gooey? That’s a technical phrase I suppose.”

  “Of course.” She held out her wrist. “Here. Tell me what you think.”

  Sean took Eden’s wrist, but didn’t bend to sniff it. He pulled on it, tugging her close to him on the couch. “I think I’d rather smell it here.”

  He leaned over her, his chest hard against her arm, his breath against the skin of her neck. Gently he brushed her hair aside then ran his finger down the sensitive muscle to her shoulder. “God, your skin’s like velvet. Silken velvet.”

  Scarcely breathing, Eden stayed still, waiting—wondering—wanting him to touch her some more. She felt his movement as he lowered his face to her throat and inhaled deeply. “Mmm. I like.”

  “Me too.” Eden wasn’t sure if she was referring to the perfume or to having Sean’s lips mere inches from her skin.

  “If I remember rightly, the pulse points are where a woman should put perfume, yes?”

  Eden nodded. “Yes.”

  Carefully, he untied the ribbon at the front of her gathered blouse, loosening it. He slid one shoulder down, then leaned over and pushed the other down to match, revealing the top of the daring bustier she had decided to wear on the spur of the moment.

  “There’s a pulse point here, isn’t there?” His fingertips brushed the tops of her breasts and settled in her deep cleavage. “Here, where it’s warm and dark and rich with a woman’s body heat.”

  Eden’s head fell back onto the couch as he dipped low to run his tongue between the two soft mounds. The slick touch of his tongue, the scent of him mingling with the softly arousing fragrance—she was helpless before the sensual onslaught, reduced to a whimpering, quivering lump of putty.

  At that moment, she did the only thing possible.

  She moaned.

  *~~*~~*

  Sean wanted everything, right that moment. He wanted to tear Eden’s clothes away, he wanted to touch her, fill his hands with those incredible breasts, strip his own clothes off and leap on her. He wanted to fuck her right there in his living room on his couch.

  But he knew he wasn’t about to go there, even though his cock was painfully hard just from the feel of her skin and that tiny sound she’d made as he’d licked her.

  No, he was going to take it slow with her. She was jittery about sex, uncomfortable with her body and unused to a man exploring her sensuality. If ever a woman needed a slow and gentle sexual experience, it was Eden.

  He knew all this. He just wished his cock was on the same page.

  So he took his time, letting her get used to the sensation of his tongue on her skin. She didn’t object when he slipped the loose blouse down to her elbows and toyed with the lace of her corset thing. God, it lifted her breasts and they swelled above the fabric, white mountains and a deep valley that stunned him with their loveliness. He was a sucker for a real woman, big breasts and all the delicious curves that came along with her. He was a sucker for Eden.

  “Baby, help me here?” He shifted and tugged at his own t-shirt. “I want to feel your body against me when I kiss you. Skin to skin.”

  She lifted her head, a dazed look in her eyes, and nodded. “Okay.”

  Her hands drifted to his chest and together they pulled his shirt free, enabling him to strip it over his head and toss it aside. “Now this…” Unhampered by his own garment, he grasped her blouse and knelt beside her, watching as she lifted her arms and let him take it off her like a little girl.

  Automatically, her hands fell to cover herself.

  “None of that.” Sean grasped her wrists, pushed them to either side of her body and bent toward her, his chest pressing against her corset and the mounds above. Now it was his turn to moan a little at the heat and softness burning into him.

  “Kiss me, Eden. Let me know you want this.”

  She had to be with him in this seduction he was attempting. Sean couldn’t push brazenly past her inhibitions and just fuck her, even though she might have been willing at that moment for him to do exactly that.

  No, he needed to know that she was aroused, not just physically but emotionally. That she’d meet his touches with touches of her own. And if she wasn’t ready, well he’d just wait until she was.

  He waited, nerves jangling, watching her eyes, seeing what he hoped was the dawning of desire behind the heavy-lidded gaze she was giving him. “I think…I think I want this, Sean.”

  Her hands shifted and he released them, thrilled to his toes when she lifted them to his chest, running her palms over his skin and coming to rest on his shoulders. “Please kiss me?”

  “My pleasure.”

  They turned a little, Eden resting back on the cushions behind her and Sean following her down to lie over her. Softness pressed against hardness, her body slithered wonderfully against his and with slow tenderness he lowered his head to her mouth.

  She closed her eyes and welcomed him.

  It was bliss, lying in the sunshine with his tongue drifting over her mouth. The warmth on his back was nothing compared to the warmth against his front. Slowly—oh so slowly—he urged her lips apart and dipped within, tasting Ed
en’s unique flavors, mingling them with his own and teasing her tongue into a dance that started a slow burn all the way to his balls.

  He poured all the passion he possessed into that kiss. He moved his head, angling so that he could plunge deep, encouraging her to do the same. Gently he aroused her, with little more than his tongue and slight movements of his body as it rubbed against hers.

  He wanted to shout with pleasure when her fingers flexed and began to grasp him tighter, when her mouth turned greedy and she returned the kiss with mounting fervor. He knew, at that moment, he’d passed a barrier with Eden. That she’d opened to him for this particular embrace—willingly and enthusiastically.

  The journey had begun.

  He extended the kiss, taking time to simply enjoy it for what it was. The start of passion between them, the first slow steps to the ultimate pleasure. Teasingly he plunged his tongue in and out of her mouth, daring her to imitate his moves.

  She did, making him want to shout with delight. A tiny whimper from her throat encouraged him and he gently slid his hands to the top of her skirt, finding the loose waistband easy to push down.

  She tensed as his fingers found the skin of her belly and stroked it.

  “Shh.” He eased back. “I want to see you, baby. Let me get rid of the skirt? Tell me it’s okay?”

  A flash of uncertainty crossed her features. There it was again, that damned insecurity about her body. Well, he’d just have to do something about that. To take it away and toss it in the trash where it belonged.

  “Eden, please? Let me enjoy you? Give me the pleasure of touching you. Exploring you. I ache with the need, baby. Help me out here.”

  She bit her lip—then nodded. It wasn’t an eager nod, but it was a nod all the same.

  Heaving an internal sigh of relief, he moved and began tugging her skirt down over her hips. He barely caught his own moan of lust as her white skin emerged, revealed to his gaze. She lifted her bottom as he freed her, a little awkwardly, cursing the tangled silky stuff and finally—thankfully—throwing it aside.

  “Dear God, you’re incredible, Eden. Truly incredible. There’s not a man alive who wouldn’t get a hard-on from looking at you right this minute.”