Her mouth was swollen from his kisses, her breasts full, the nipples hard from his suckling and the folds between her legs moist from his rapacious tongue. She was on fire and only he could extinguish the flames of desire that threatened to incinerate her into millions of infinite pieces.
Micah felt as if he were drowning in a riptide of sensual pleasure that he’d never experienced before. He wanted to be inside the woman in his bed but knew if he did penetrate Tessa, then it would result in the end even before he’d gotten enough of her. Cupping her breasts, he trailed kisses over her satiny belly. Her stomach muscles contracted as he moved up her writhing body. He took possession of her mouth, swallowing her hot, moist breath before she compressed her lips.
Tessa gritted her teeth rather than shame herself again and beg Micah to take her. She wanted him deep inside her, filling her with his hardness and assuaging the rising passion that had no place to go.
Her right hand trailed down his ribs, searching between their bodies until she found the source of her frustration. Her fingers closed around his straining, throbbing erection, eliciting a deep groan that came from deep within Micah’s chest.
Her hand worked its magic, moving up and down, around and around. A small smile softened her mouth and relaxed the muscles in her face as his breath came in quick pants. He was as close to exploding as she was.
She wasn’t given time to react when he twisted out of her grasp and reached into the drawer in the nightstand. It took only seconds for him to roll a condom down the length of his erection. Time seemed to stand completely still when he pushed into the hot flesh beckoning like a beacon on a stormy night, both gasping audibly when flesh joined flesh, making them one with the other.
It was Tessa’s turn to drown in the sensations that reminded her of why she’d been born female. Everything ceased to exist except the man taking her to a place where she’d never been. She bit down on her lower lip, but it wasn’t enough to stem the whimpers that escalated to soft moans of unabashed pleasure. Her former apprehension that she was sharing a bed with a stranger waned with Micah’s first thrust and vanished completely when he established a slow, measured rhythm that sent shivers up and down her spine. Every man she’d ever met or known was forgotten as she surrendered to the passion that pounded the blood racing through her heart, chest and head.
First there was fire, then ice and fire again. And when she couldn’t take it anymore she cried out as waves of ecstasy washed over her again and again. She’d just breathed out the last of her passion when Micah buried his face between her face and shoulder, shuddered violently and collapsed on her, his weight pressing her down to the mattress.
They lay together for several seconds until Micah rolled over, removed the condom, then pulled Tessa to his chest. No words were necessary. What they’d offered each other went beyond dialogue, beyond description. The steady tapping of icy pellets against the shuttered windows drowned out the sounds of measured breathing. Their moist bodies entwined, both found a peace and comfort that made them one with the other.
His eyes opened as Tessa groaned softly, attempting to find a more comfortable position.
“Are you all right?” he asked her.
“I’m good,” she said.
“That’s not what I asked you, Tessa.” Pulling back, he tried making out her expression in the eerie light coming through the windows. “Did I hurt you?”
“No,” Tessa said truthfully. She was tight because she hadn’t had sex in a long time, but once Micah had penetrated her there hadn’t been any pain.
Leaning on an elbow, he stared down at her. “Why did you moan, baby?”
“Sleeping with you reminded me of muscles I hadn’t used in quite some time.”
Running his hand through her mussed hair, he smoothed down her wayward curls. “We won’t make love again until you’re feeling better.”
“I’m not in pain, Micah,” Tessa countered waspishly.
“We’ll see about that.”
“What are you doing?” she shrieked when he sat up and straddled her, resting his hands on her inner thighs.
“I’m going to massage your legs.”
She sucked in a breath when his fingers kneaded the tender flesh. The tightness eased as Micah’s hands became magical. Her former moans became soft erotic groans when she felt herself becoming aroused again. Her nipples had hardened and her core had grown moist.
“Stop, Micah.” His fingers stilled. “Please, no more.”
“What’s the matter?”
Tessa heard the concern in his voice. “You don’t want to know.”
Leaning closer, he nuzzled the side of her neck. The heat that had flared between her thighs swept upward, burning her face. “Are you blushing, darling?”
“Why would you ask me that?”
“Because your cheek is hot.” His right hand moved between their bodies. “That’s not the only place that’s hot,” he crooned.
“That’s because you’re making me hot.”
Micah laughed. The sensuous sound increased the heat coursing throughout her body. “I make you hot and you’re making me hard.” Reaching for her left hand, he placed it on his swelling organ.
Tessa felt the warmth and heaviness against her palm before her fingers closed around his sex and stroked him in a measured up-and-down motion as his breath came in deep shuddering gasps that excited her even more. Slowing, she eased her grip when she felt him straining for release, then increased the pressure and quickened her motions.
Micah felt as if his heart would explode if he didn’t climax. But he didn’t want to release his passions in Tessa’s hand but inside her. His attempt to reach for the drawer with the condoms was thwarted when he surrendered completely to her exquisite seduction. He bellowed as if impaled on an iron stake as a flood of uncontrolled and unrestrained passion shook him from head to toe. Unintelligible and guttural noises came from his throat when he opened his mouth to plead with Tessa to let him go, but she continued to stroke him until he ejaculated again.
Pressing her breasts to Micah’s chest, Tessa kissed him tenderly. “Are you all right, sweetheart?”
Still shaking from the aftermath of the raw act of her masterful persuasion, he reversed their positions. “You’re going to pay for that little stunt.”
“How?” she asked with a wide grin.
“I’m going to tie you to the bed and make love to you until you pass out.”
Tessa traced one of his expressive eyebrows with a forefinger. “You promise?”
His grin matched hers. “Yes. And that’s one promise I intend to keep.” He kissed her to seal his vow. “I’m going to have to change the sheets before we take a nap.”
“While you change the sheets, I’m going to take a shower, then clean up the kitchen.”
He shook his head. “The kitchen can wait until later.” Sitting up, he scooped Tessa up into his arms and moved off the bed. “We can save water by sharing a shower.”
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she rested her head on his shoulder. “No funny stuff.”
“Look who’s talking about acting up. You almost gave me a heart attack.”
“Are you complaining that you didn’t enjoy it?”
“I plead the Fifth.”
“I rest my case, Counselor.”
Micah carried Tessa out of the bedroom and into the adjoining bath, unable to believe the very straight-laced Tessa Whitfield would be so uninhibited in bed. He liked everything about her—in and out of bed.
* * *
As she brushed her teeth, Tessa thought about the man whose bed she’d just left, still puzzled as to why she’d found it so easy to forget her requisite three-month time limit for getting to know Micah well enough to consider sleeping with him.
She rinsed her mouth, patting it dry with a towel from a stack on a marble-topped table in a corner; she stared at her reflection in the mirror as a knowing smile parted her lips. I like him. And she did. There was something about Micah
that made it very easy to fall in love with him.
Love!
With eyes wide, she froze. What was she thinking about? There was no way she wanted to or could fall in love with Micah Sanborn. If that were to happen, then she would expect a commitment—and he’d already admitted, Marriage is just not for me.
Her shock fading quickly, she shook her head, headed for the shower stall and joined the object of her musings.
* * *
Micah stood in Tessa’s foyer cradling her to his chest, knowing he had to leave but not wanting to let her go. She was a chameleon, unlike any other woman he’d met or known. One minute she would withdraw from him, leaving him to believe that the passion she’d offered was all for show. Then she would come on to him like a cat, soft and purring, adorable and affectionate. He never would’ve imagined that her sexual repertoire would’ve included such sensual foreplay. Was he shocked? Yes! Did he enjoy it? Oh, hell yeah!
“I’ll call you,” he said in a quiet voice.
Tilting her head back in order to see his expression, Tessa smiled. “What if I call you?”
Micah’s jaw tightened as he clenched his teeth. Uh-oh, he thought, here it goes. The don’t-call-me-I’ll-call-you scenario. Was it his turn to pay the piper for the few times he’d slept with a woman, then told her that he would call her and didn’t?
“You don’t want me to call you, Tessa?”
Her gaze narrowed slightly. “Did I say you couldn’t call me, Micah? Is there a reason why you don’t want to give me your number? Are you afraid a woman will answer your phone? Don’t concern yourself about my feelings, because you know we’re both in this for sex.”
He recoiled as if she’d struck him across the face. “Is that what you believe? That it’s all about sex?”
She pulled away from him. “Isn’t it? You made yourself very clear when you said you’re not the marrying kind. And I am a grown-ass woman, Micah, so don’t you treat me like a girl. So if we’re going to continue to see each other, then it can only be for friendship with a fringe benefit.”
His eyebrows lifted slightly. “What is the fringe benefit?”
There was a profound silence until Tessa said, “We get to sleep together.”
“All you want is friendship and sex?”
She nodded. “Yes.” That’s all I expect because that’s all you want, Micah, she added silently.
It was Micah’s turn to nod. “Okay. There’ll be nothing more.” He extended his hand. “Give me your cell phone and I’ll program in my numbers.” Tessa reached into her handbag and handed him her cell phone. “I’m going to give you my cell, home and my direct line at the D.A.’s office. I’ll also give you my parents’ number—”
“I have your parents’ number,” Tessa said, interrupting him.
Micah continued to punch in his numbers. “If you call my cell during the day and I don’t answer, then leave a message on my office voice mail, because I may be in court or at one of the correctional facilities.” He handed her back her phone.
Going on tiptoe, Tessa pressed her mouth to his. “I will call you.” She gave him a wink. “That’s a promise.”
His former annoyance vanished quickly. Looping an arm around her waist, he deepened the kiss. “Good.”
“I want to thank you for a wonderful weekend. We must do it again.”
“And we will, baby.” Lowering his head, Micah kissed her again with a passion he hadn’t known he possessed. He ended it, dropped his arms and opened the door. He walked out of Signature Bridals and made his way down the stairs to where he’d parked his car.
Two words assaulted him during the drive back to Staten Island: friendship and sex. It was the first time a woman had openly demanded what she wanted from him, because he usually established the ground rules whenever he went into a relationship. He’d never concealed the fact that he wasn’t looking for a wife or that he didn’t want to become a father. Those were not options, nor were they debatable.
He dated women because he enjoyed their company, and if they did advance to the bedroom, it would be for sex. He’d navigated the dating game unscathed; however, now at forty-one he’d discovered the tables turned.
He’d been forthcoming when he’d told Tessa that he wouldn’t change his marital status, but she’d gotten the better of him when she’d tipped the scales in her favor when she’d stated that they would be friends who would sleep together.
“Damn!” he whispered under his breath. It was a blow to his male ego to have a woman tell him exactly what he meant to her—but his ego wasn’t so bruised that he wouldn’t go along with what she proposed.
He would continue to see Miss Whitfield. And as she’d said, when it ended, it would end as all of his other relationships had—without threats or hostility.
* * *
Tessa had to replay the voice-mail message twice before registering her mother’s words. Lucinda wanted her to come to Mount Vernon for Sunday dinner and see a new gown she’d designed. Picking up the telephone, she dialed the number to the house where she’d grown up. She told her father that she would see him later that afternoon, and Malcolm Whitfield informed her not pick up Faith because she was already in Mount Vernon.
She ended the call feeling as if she were losing her mind, that she was having an out-of-body experience. She’d known Micah Sanborn just over a week, had sex with him twice—three times if she were to count her shocking impromptu masturbation scenario—and she had set down the parameters for their relationship. In the past, loving a man with all of her heart had wounded her deeply—and she’d vowed it would not happen again.
As long as Micah knew where she was coming from, then she would be able to protect her heart.
CHAPTER 13
Tessa maneuvered into the driveway behind her father’s car and cut off the engine. When she was younger, the entire Westchester County Whitfield clan got together the first Sunday in each month after church to eat together while catching up with the latest family gossip. But as the younger children became adults and started their own families, the ritual changed to holidays and milestone birthdays.
This Sunday wasn’t a holiday or a milestone birthday, so Tessa wondered why her mother had called a family gathering. And, for that fact, she could’ve come to Mount Vernon at any time to see Lucinda’s latest design.
She got out of her vehicle and turned up her collar to ward off the above-freezing temperature. Quickening her pace, she mounted the steps to the three-story farmhouse and unlocked the front door. Warmth and mouthwatering aromas greeted her as soon as she opened the door. Slipping out of her coat, she hung it on the coat tree in the entryway and placed her handbag on a cushioned bench.
She made her way through the living room, past the formal dining room, with a table set with china, silver and an elaborate floral centerpiece, and into an enormous kitchen bustling with activity. Her mother and her aunt stood opposite each other at a cooking island, ladling food into serving dishes.
Simone, resting a hip against one of two dishwashers, observed the activity with an expression of bored amusement. A roar of deep voices came from the enclosed back porch, where the Whitfield men were watching their favorite sport. In the spring and summer it was baseball, and in the fall and winter football and basketball.
Tessa smiled. Faith was decorating a marbled jelly roll cake with curls of dark and white chocolate. Another cake, this one decorated with coconut, sat on a countertop along with a baked ham, a stuffed pork crown roast and a platter piled high with fried chicken.
“What are we celebrating?”
Lucinda Whitfield stopped stirring a large pot of collard greens and glanced up. A bright smile crinkled the attractive lines around her dark eyes. Petite, with a rounded body, Lucinda wore her salt-and-pepper hair in a close-cropped natural style that complemented her delicate features and nut-brown complexion. Wiping her hands on a towel, she went over to her youngest daughter and kissed her cheek.
“You’ll know soon enough,” s
he said cryptically.
Simone straightened from her leaning position. “She told me the same thing.”
“Same here,” Faith added.
“What is it with the younger generation,” Edith Whitfield said, “that they’re so impatient? Everything is about instant gratification.”
Faith rolled her eyes at her mother. “It’s not about instant gratification, Mother.” Edith flinched visibly when she registered Faith addressing her as “Mother.” “You call and tell us to show up, but you don’t want to tell us why. I’ve been offered a contract to complete a coffee-table book with my designer cakes and—”
“When did this happen?” Simone asked, interrupting her cousin.
“It hasn’t happened. I’m still thinking about it,” Faith countered.
“What is there to think about, darling?” Edith crooned. Tall, slender and incredibly beautiful, former showroom model Edith Harris Whitfield had passed her good looks onto her daughter Faith, who’d briefly gone into modeling but gave it up when she decided she wanted to be a chef. “It sounds like an opportunity of a lifetime,” Edith continued, smiling.
“It is,” Faith confirmed. She didn’t want to talk about her literary project with her family, especially her mother, until she discussed it with Tessa and Simone. “I’ll let you know more once I get all of the details.”
“Why are we here, Mama?” Tessa asked her mother, giving her a penetrating stare. She was aware that Lucinda Whitfield had a flare for the dramatic, and the longer she held everyone’s attention, the better.
Lucinda stopped ladling spoonfuls of collard greens cooked with smoked turkey wings into a large tureen. She glanced at her daughters, then her niece. “Your fathers and uncle have decided to close down the catering hall.”
“No!” gasped Tessa.
What!” Faith and Simone chorused.
“Why?” Tessa asked, stunned that her father and uncle had decided to sell what had become somewhat of a historic landmark in Westchester County. She’d lost count of the number of weddings, birthdays, political fund-raisers, graduation parties and church functions that had been held in the two-story Revival Regency-style mansion with stone-colored brick, a bowed entry and a portico constructed on sloping lawns that overlooked an English garden and a pond filled with water lilies and a family of magnificent graceful swans.
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