“No. It’s fine.”
As tempting as it sounded to have the support of her family when she was feeling this vulnerable, she knew that she couldn’t take another day of watching Marco with the kids. It was too much. He was too good with them. Her mind played tricks on her when she saw him with them.
“I’m fine. I promise.” Sydney pasted on her most convincing smile, but she saw her sister was not buying it. She was trying to figure out how to persuade her when she remembered something that would get Devon’s mind off of Sydney.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Sydney reached into her back pocket and handed her sister the business card that she’d been given at the book club meeting. “Karina wanted me to give this to you.”
“Karina? Karina Black?” Devon asked as she took the card. “What is it?”
“It’s a recommendation for an attorney. I told her about your accident, and how Paulo is dragging out the divorce, and she—”
“You told Karina Black about my accident and divorce?!” Devon’s eyes shot back up.
Oh no. Sydney hadn’t thought about the fact that she’d shared such personal information. She’d just got caught up in the night, and Karina was strangely easy to talk to. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Did you tell her my name?”
Sydney cringed. “Yes. I’m sorry. She was asking questions, and it came—”
Devon grabbed Sydney’s arm as a smile spread across her face. “Karina Black knows my name?!”
Oh, thank god. She wasn’t mad, she was excited.
“Yes. And,” Sydney turned the card over. “She gave you her phone number and made me promise to tell you to call her if you need anything.”
Devon looked down at the number written in blue pen then back up at Sydney. “I have Karina Black’s phone number?”
“Yep.”
Screams of pain came from the SUV parked on the street.
Both sisters looked toward the cries and then back at each other.
“I have to go.” Devon pulled her into another hug. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes. Go. Call me when you get home.”
“I will.”
Sydney watched as her sister and the kids drove away. As she walked back into the house, she stared down at the picture her niece had drawn, and she smiled. She was glad that the kidlets had gotten to know him, even if it was bittersweet. The past two days had dangled the carrot of the life she wanted and knew she’d never have in front of her, but they’d also given her amazing memories that she’d treasure forever.
She’d be home in less than a week, and she’d go on with her life. But like Bogart and Bergman would always have Paris, she’d always have Hope Falls. And that would be enough. It had to be enough.
Chapter 21
‡
The scent of garlic and crushed tomatoes rose from the pan on the stove, intensifying as Marco pushed the fragrant blend around with a wooden spoon. He wanted tonight to be special. He’d spent an hour searching YouTube videos this afternoon, looking for the perfect recipe—simple, yet impressive.
Tonight was Sydney’s last night in Hope Falls and Pops was at bingo for the next three hours. As much as he wanted to take her upstairs and ravish her, he thought the alone time they had would be better spent by having a romantic evening.
They’d spent the past four nights making love to each other, falling asleep, and waking up together. And he knew they would do the same thing tonight, their last night, so this evening was about romance, not sex.
“Is it almost ready?” He heard Sydney ask behind him.
“Almost.” After they’d dropped Pops off at the community center, they’d come home, and he’d drawn her a bath and even lit candles for her. She’d mentioned that taking a long bath was one of the things she’d missed since moving in and helping out Devon and he wanted to remedy that. “How was your bath?”
“Good. I’m all clean. See?”
He turned his head and saw her standing in the middle of the doorway, wearing nothing but panties, a bra, and a sassy smile. The little bits of lace were so tiny that they could barely be classified as garments.
His nostrils flared and his dick hardened behind his zipper. All thoughts of dinner needing to be perfect flew out of his head. He turned off the fire under the pan and closed the distance between them in two long steps. In one smooth movement, he plucked her up off the ground and set her on the counter.
He stepped between her legs and his hands roamed her body. Her skin was warm and silky smooth to the touch. He slid his hand down her side and cupped her ass in his palm, kneading the supple flesh like dough. She threaded her hands through his hair and pulled his mouth to hers.
His tongue snaked inside, exploring for all he was worth. Every time he kissed her, it was like a brand new experience. Like it was the very first time that their lips had met. She was like a drug to him, and the high he experienced when he came in contact with her skin, and her mouth, was delicious.
Her legs wrapped tight around his waist, and she squeezed him in an intimate embrace. They held onto one another, clinging to each other with a desperation that was fueled, at least on his part, with the knowledge that their time together was almost over.
Wanting to taste more of her, he moved his arms underneath her body and hoisted her up further, until her breasts were roughly even with his mouth. He sucked her lace-covered nipples into his mouth. She gasped as his teeth nipped and his tongue rolled over her hardened nubs. He used the material to add extra friction as he feasted on both of her breasts until the lace was soaked with his saliva.
He slid his hand roughly up her back and unhooked the strap there. The second her breasts broke free, he captured one of her sensitive nipples firmly between his demanding lips. He sucked it in, rubbing the sandpaper-rough pad of his tongue up and down it. He loved the way the texture of that little button felt against all of the sensitive nerve endings along the length of his tongue.
He took his time alternating between both magnificent, voluptuous breasts and eventually pushed them together so that he could suck both nipples into his mouth. He continued feasting on her until her hands weaved through his hair and began nudging him lower, guiding his mouth to her hot, throbbing mound.
He certainly didn’t mind being pushed toward that area—that had been where he’d been planning to go anyway. He kissed his way down, over her stomach and hips until he was face to face with her panty-covered sex.
With his mouth just inches away from her core, Sydney reached between them and tugged her panties to the side. Watching her reveal its slick and glistening folds caused all of the blood to rush to his erection, giving him a little buzz and leaving him light-headed.
“Do you want to taste how clean I am?”
A primal groan ripped from his chest. He loved how comfortable she was with her body, with asking for what she wanted and not being embarrassed of what she liked.
Not wasting a second more, he licked from the base of her slit all the way up to the pleasure button that sat at the top of her seam. His mouth encompassed her entirely, and he took his time applying gentle suction.
He slowly ran his tongue all the way up and down her seam, alternating pressure as he moved along that slick line. Nothing more than gentle sucking and licking. Each pass of his tongue a little firmer. Each pull of her body into his mouth a little harder.
He mixed up his technique and actions so that she would never be able to predict what he was going to do next. One time he would swirl his tongue around her hard little pleasure button, and a few strokes later he would plunge his tongue inside her hot, tight walls.
He’d wanted to have a romantic night and even though this wasn’t what he’d envisioned, it was working out just fine for him. Since he couldn’t tell her how he felt, the depths of his soul that she’d claimed, he figured he could at least show her.
As he moved his tongue between her legs, her hips got into a rhythm with his mouth, and the two of
them were working together to bring her ever closer to climax. Like always, their bodies conducted synchronized movements, coming together in seamless harmony.
When her body exploded in release, her legs tightened around him and her stomach clenched in spasms. Her head fell back, causing her chest to thrust forward, and she gripped his hair tightly in her fingers.
The taste of her juices was both tart and sweet, the perfect balance of opposites—just like she was. It seemed that this, just like everything else about her, was a perfect contradiction. Both sweet and sassy. Both wise and naïve. Both self-sacrificing and self-indulgent.
He ran his hands over her skin as he kept up the motion of his tongue, and every single place that his palm or fingers touched seemed like it had been sparked by an electric shock. He moved his mouth in an ever-increasing rhythm against her tender flesh as she shook underneath him. He hoped to prolong her climax until she couldn’t take it anymore. This was their last night together, and he wanted to get every last drop of pleasure he could out of it and her.
He felt her come down slowly from the high plateau of intensity that she had ridden for the past several minutes. Her muscles gradually relaxed under his hands, her hips moved in a little less frantic a rhythm. Her moans became mellower and softer. Matching the speed of her slow decline, he stroked her in increasingly gentle movements. He wanted to ease her transition back down to the hard ground of reality as much as he could.
The last thing that she did before the tremors died away in her weakened muscles was to pull him by the hair so that he was standing up face-to-face with her. With shaking fingers, she fumbled at the buttons of his jeans, working frantically to free him from his clothing so that they could be on equal footing—both of them naked, nothing separating them but the skin they were born in.
His entire body was humming with arousal as he watched her undress him. The skin around her nipples was red and puffy from his sucking. Her black lace panties were still pushed to the side, revealing her glistening sex covered in her juices and his saliva. It was one of the hottest, most erotic things he’d ever seen and it caused a flash of urgency so intense it caused his knees to buckle.
He couldn’t take sitting in the passenger seat for even one second longer, so he reached out and swooped Sydney up. He carried her over to the couch and sat her down gently on it before not so gently yanking her panties off.
Her breaths were short and came in rapid succession as her eyes hungrily watched as he stripped down. He loved seeing the spark of lust in her gaze. There was nothing, nothing, hotter to him than when Sydney got turned on by something. Her arousal was the match that got the raging forest fire of his arousal burning. And once that blaze began raging, nothing was able to put it out except her.
She was the cause of his passion, and the answer to it, as well. He was at her mercy, and there was nowhere else he’d rather be.
*
Sydney felt herself getting wetter and wetter by the moment as she sat on the couch, naked, and watched Marco take off his clothes. Even though his movements were skillful and efficient, she still saw a poetry in them. There was a grace to his movements even when he wasn’t trying to imbue any into them.
In the back of her mind, the strains of “Something in the Way She Moves” by James Taylor played, and she suddenly understood how the protagonist of the song felt about the object of his affection. Until that moment, she’d never realized how the patterns of a person’s movements were kind of like a beautiful dance. Especially if they had poise in their DNA, and if you were viewing them through the soft haze of your feelings for them.
Or, just call it what it was. Love. The soft haze of love.
I love you.
A shiver went through her at the mere thought of saying the words to him that she’d felt for so long. Just the pure momentousness of even thinking about speaking that truth was enough to elicit a visceral reaction.
But, she couldn’t say those words, and there was no point in wishing she could. Instead, she refocused on the pure, uncomplicated beauty of Marco getting undressed—the way his fingers moved on the buttons and fasteners, and the gorgeous skin that was revealed every time he tossed another article of clothing to the side.
He was an incredible male specimen. From his broad chest and shoulders to the chiseled strength in his arms, to the rippled planes of his abs, to the muscular power of his thighs. She could stare at him for hours, and had. Each time she’d found something new to admire.
Finally, he stood in front of her, just as naked as she was, and a thrill of anticipation rocked her so hard that she thought she might pass out from the pure power of it. Inspired by the sight of his uncovered flesh in front of her, she scooted to the edge of the couch and took his straining erection in her mouth. She pounced on it like a hungry panther.
There was no buildup. No careful dragging of her tongue up and down his shaft to build the suspense like she was directing a stage play.
No, this was pure animal hunger, played out as she grasped the sides of his torso and slipped her lips around his engorged head. She slid her hot, tight mouth down the length of his shaft, sucking madly the entire time.
She moved her tongue along his rock-hard flesh, taking in his moans with a proud pleasure. She pulled him into her mouth until she could feel the head of his tip pressing into the taut flesh at the back of her throat. She swallowed, and his entire body jerked and tensed. It wasn’t a pre-planned action, merely the physiological response to the muscles of her throat being stimulated. But the response she got from him was so intense, she did it a few more times on purpose just to please him.
As she massaged the tip of his manhood with the swallowing motion of her throat, he gripped the back of her head and panted in rapid, shallow gasps. After only three passes, he groaned, “Fuck, Sydney. Yeah, just like that, baby.”
His words caused a tight aching to start in between her legs again, followed by the sharp tingling sensation that told her she would be able to crest the peak of orgasm again soon if she just got the right kind of stimulation.
At the same time, though, another sort of ache started low in her belly. This one was different in that it was an empty kind of feeling, and she knew exactly what she needed to fill that emptiness—the appendage that was currently in her mouth.
She tore her head back and looked up at Marco, gripping him with her fist and pumping it slowly and lightly to make up for the loss of her mouth.
He looked down at her in a daze—that was the only way to describe his expression.
“I want you inside me. Please,” she whispered.
She didn’t need to make her request any louder than that, or even repeat it. As soon as the words escaped her mouth, Marco pressed her shoulders so that she fell back onto the couch and his fingers wrapped around her knees and opened her legs to him.
His eyes raked up and down her form, making her feel more vulnerable and exposed than she could ever remember feeling and she loved it.
A small, hungry smile touched his lips and a twitch rocked through her when she saw it. That look on his face…it was a smile, but not a happy one. A hungry one. He reminded her of a wolf when he looked at her that way, and she wanted nothing more than to be Little Red Riding Hood and get devoured by him.
He leaned down, grabbed her by the waist, plucked her up off the couch, and spun her around. He did this with practiced confidence, and his hands were so strong that it was as if she weighed practically nothing in his firm, agile grip. She felt like a ragdoll that he could just move and manipulate and set back on the shelf in any position that he chose.
She loved it. She would be his ragdoll any day of the week and twice on Sunday. Having him manhandle her like that made her feel feminine and desired and turned on.
He positioned her so that her hands braced the back of the couch and her knees settled into the cushions. This left her completely exposed and opened up to him from behind. The open air touched her exposed, dripping sex and a jolt of elect
ricity flowed through her from that spread-open core that made her knees tremble.
She was glad that she was in a well-braced position. If she’d still been standing, she would’ve gone down right then—crumpled to the ground like a wet cardboard cutout.
No, she could tremble and shake on those weak knees all she wanted to, and the worst thing that would happen is that she would sink deeper into the couch.
Marco grabbed her hips with his strong, demanding hands and pulled her body backward, closer to him. With him holding her up she could never fall. His strength was more than enough for the two of them.
He positioned himself at her entrance and leaned forward until she could feel the hot pressure of his belly against her ass, his chest against her back and shoulders, and his warm breath as he whispered against her ear, “Are you ready, baby? Are you ready to feel me inside you?”
She moaned and dropped her head, too overcome even to form words, but that was enough for him to know how desperately she wanted him. She was aching for him. It was unbearable. She didn’t know if she could take even one more second of this gnawing emptiness that consumed her when he wasn’t inside her.
She was just on the verge of whipping her head around to look over her shoulder and beg him to thrust into her, whimper that she would do anything just to feel him filling her up when he granted her unspoken wish by doing exactly that.
When he’d buried himself completely inside her, she used one arm to reach back and clamp her hand on him. Silently telling him without words that she wanted him to remain there a moment, to let her soak up that incredible sensation before he started pumping in and out of her and filling her with a hundred new amazing sensations.
She drank in every detail—the trembling of his pecs against her shoulder blades, the hot puffs of breath tickling the back of her neck as they moved her hair, the slickness of his skin as it slid against hers. Every single solitary thing was a magical gem that deserved to be cataloged and appreciated for its own, individual sexiness, and she did her best to do exactly that.
Fire and Romance Page 20
