On the Verge of I Do

by Heidi Betts

  Beneath him, she writhed provocatively, making tiny mewling sounds deep in her throat. Sweat broke out along his brow and his pulse kicked up another thirty beats per minute.

  Deepening the kiss, letting his tongue dance along the seam of her lips before pressing inside, he carefully lowered himself until he was stretched atop her entire length, pressing her into the downy mattress.

  The lace of her bra scratched against his chest, but in a very good way. The feel of her matching panties cushioning his rigid arousal was even better. Rubbing slowly back and forth, he created a gentle friction between their bodies to match that of their tangled tongues.

  Slipping a hand behind her back, he found the hook of her bra and released it, tugging the straps clear of her shoulders. But when he tried to remove the slinky material completely, Kara’s hands came up, holding the cups in place.

  As loath as he was to do so, Eli lightened the kiss, slowly pulling away until he could lift his head to look down at her.

  “Don’t,” he whispered, holding her gaze. “Don’t turn shy now. And don’t hide from me. Ever.”

  She didn’t say anything, but he felt her relax beneath him. Her hold on the bra went slack and she dropped her arms back to her sides.

  He grinned—he couldn’t seem to help himself. But not because she’d followed his orders. Because her acquiescence proved that she trusted him in one of the most intimate ways a woman could trust a man—with her body.

  And because her breasts were magnificent.

  Kara was far from fat, but she wasn’t model-thin, either. She had curves—full thighs, lush hips and bountiful breasts—in all the right places. Curves that could make a man sit up and pant. Invited him to invent some first-rate fantasies or stick around awhile and explore to his heart’s content.

  Eli counted himself among the lucky few who were going to be allowed to linger. But he didn’t have the patience or the fortitude to linger very long this time around.

  Nevertheless, he relished the view. Her flushed skin, slightly parted lips, the rise and fall of her chest as she lay beneath him. She was at his mercy…but whether she realized it or not, he was also at hers.

  He snagged her lips for a quick, hard kiss before trailing his mouth down her chin, her throat, the center of her chest. She arched her back, bringing her breasts even closer to exactly where he wanted them.

  He caressed them with his fingers and thumbs, tweaking the nipples before lowering his mouth for his very first taste. She moaned, putting voice to the sensations swamping them both. He rolled one puckering bud beneath his tongue for several long seconds before moving to the other. He could have gone on forever, back and forth between those two soft, amazing mounds.

  Could have, except for the fact that Kara raised her legs and wrapped them around his hips. Raised her arms and wrapped them around his neck. Her nails raked languidly up and down his spine; her thighs cradled him, rubbing maddeningly against his arousal.

  Growling with mounting frustration, he abandoned her breasts and slithered down her body. She tightened her grip to keep him from moving, but she was no match against his size or determination.

  She clung to him while he kissed his way down her torso, swirled his tongue around her navel, then dipped inside. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of her panties—which were little more than a scrap of white lace to begin with, held in place by an even smaller strip of elastic—he worked them down, slowly revealing the V of her femininity inch by tantalizing inch.

  She squirmed against him, murmured his name in such a needy, breathless tone that he nearly gave in. But he knew what he wanted, and what she needed to push her as close to the edge as he was already.

  Ridding her of the panties altogether, he tossed them somewhere off to the side, not particularly caring where they landed. Then he spread her legs, tucking them up and over his shoulders.

  Kara gasped when she realized what he was about to do, but he wouldn’t let her wiggle away. He pinned her in place, absorbing her heat, breathing in her essence.

  Kissing her like this was just as pleasurable as kissing her mouth, but in a million other, very different ways. He used his lips and tongue and fingers to explore her folds until her mewls of protest turned to moans of delight.

  She writhed beneath him, her hands tangling in his hair—whether to urge him on or still attempting to budge him, he wasn’t sure. And it didn’t matter. He had no intention of stopping until he’d wrung from her every ounce of pleasure she was capable of giving.

  He could feel her body tensing, every muscle and tendon tightening like a bow as her nails dug into his scalp. Redoubling his efforts, he licked and stroked, driving her up and up until she cried out and went over.

  He stayed with her until she calmed, floating back down to earth in a heap of boneless limbs she didn’t even have the strength to keep wrapped around him any longer. The corners of his mouth twitched as he tried to hold back a self-satisfied grin.

  Tried, but failed. He smiled his way back up the line of her body, trailing kisses all along the way. When he reached her mouth, he kissed her there, too, long and deep and hard.

  Her hands, shaking with the aftershocks of her orgasm, came up to frame his face, caressing the slight stubble on his jaw. Eli groaned at the gentle touch, feeling his own skin ripple, the muscles beneath constricting in anticipation of what would come next.

  Trailing his fingers over her hip and between her legs, he found her opening, slick with a mix of moisture from his mouth and her own feminine juices. Centering himself, he pushed inside. Slowly.

  An inch.

  He gave a silent but heartfelt moan.

  Then another.

  His nostrils flared as he tried to school his breathing. In, out. In, out.

  And another.

  Maybe if he concentrated on something else. He thought about his company. Of pending business, upcoming meetings and contracts that were sitting on his desk yet to be reviewed.

  It didn’t work. Heat and pressure built in his groin, radiating outward.

  Drawing her legs up, he wrapped them around his waist. She crossed her ankles to hold them in place, arching up to meet him, which only worked to drive him deeper.

  They gasped together, breaths mingling. And then he was fully embedded, buried to the hilt.

  As taut as he was, every fiber of his being pulled tight with building tension and expectancy, he didn’t rush toward the big finish. Instead, he held perfectly still, soaking up the sensations of being this closely linked to Kara.

  He’d dated a lot of women. Been involved with them on varying levels, from meaningless one-night stands to lengthier, more significant relationships. Never before had he been anywhere near thinking the L word.

  With Kara, though, it was easy. Just thinking about her made him go soft inside. Being with her, seeing her smile, hearing her voice and her smooth-as-Southern-Comfort laugh, warmed him from head to toe. And thinking about being with her like this…on top of her, under her, inside of her…made him go hard.

  He’d certainly never reacted that way to Laurel. Not in the entire time they’d been engaged.

  That had to mean something, didn’t it?

  Not that he was going to spend much longer contemplating the matter. He was busy with something more important.

  Canting his hips, he began to rock gently back and forth, in and out. Kara’s heels dug into his thighs and buttocks, and he returned the favor, clutching her bottom to bring her up on each of his downward thrusts.

  They moved together like synchronized swimmers, every move in perfect harmony. But it was also hot. She cushioned him, squeezed him, struck a match somewhere deep inside that flickered, sparked, then burned him nearly to ashes.

  Holding her tight, he rolled them across the wide bed, coming to a stop on his back so that she was on top. Once she caught her breath, she sat up, both hands flat on his chest as she straddled his hips.

  She shook her head, sending her dark curls swirling aroun
d her face and shoulders. Her hair was rumpled and sexy as hell. Maybe because he’d been the one to muss it up.

  Her cheeks were flushed, her lips rosy and swollen, and he’d done that, too.

  A surge of possessiveness poured through him, making him feel strong and powerful. Me Tarzan, you Jane manly.

  Reaching up, he tangled his fingers in her hair, mussing it even more as he tugged her down by those big, soft curls. He took her mouth in a hard, soul-stealing kiss, wanting to mark her as his own, ruin her for other men forever.

  Lower, she started to move, shifting just enough to begin the exquisite friction of body against body, skin against skin, hard against soft. He released her mouth and she straightened again, curling back like Lady Godiva on her trusty steed. And in this instance, Eli had no problem whatsoever being her ride.

  She placed her hands flat on his chest, the half-circles of her nails digging into his pecs. Her breasts hovered just inches from his face, pushed together by her arms. Those raspberry nipples, drawn tight and dimpled, called to him. He wanted to feel them, taste them, test their sensitivity.

  He covered both breasts with his hands, weighing them, kneading them, using his thumbs to tweak their tips. Then he leaned up and took one rigid nipple into his mouth.

  Kara moaned, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth. Eli grasped her hips, guiding her motions while he continued to play with her breasts as long as he could.

  But eventually, instinct took over. Sensation swamped him. Bone-deep need drove him, and he knew it was driving her, too.

  Falling back to the mattress, he sucked in gulps of air, a steel vise closing around his rib cage tighter and tighter while she gyrated on top of him. She looked like a goddess, but was doing things to him that only a temptress could manage.

  His fingers dug into the flesh of her bottom as she rose and fell on him faster, harder, sharper. Her own breath came in pants, her eyes fluttered closed and he could feel her clenching around him.

  She cried out, stiffening above him. Her whole body rippled with climax, sending shimmers through his own until he couldn’t hold back and followed her blindly over the edge.

  Ten

  Kara was lying on her side, watching the sun slip beyond the horizon. It was a bright ball of orange, the sky glorious streaks of pink, yellow, purple, all sliding into the wide expanse of the gently rolling blue of the ocean.

  Without a doubt, Eli had the best view of the entire resort. It paid to be the owner and CEO of such an amazing enterprise, she supposed.

  It was one of the most beautiful sunsets she’d ever seen, and she’d never felt so happy, so comfortable, so satisfied and content. Or she would have, if guilt weren’t swamping her in steady waves.

  She’d just slept with her sister’s fiancé. Ex-fiancé, but the ex part was so fresh and new, it might as well not even be there.

  So instead of basking in the warm relaxation of afterglow, she was lying there worrying.

  Worrying about Eli’s arm circling her waist and what emotions or intentions it might symbolize.

  Worrying about what she would say to Laurel when she got home…or how she would ever again be able to look her sister in the eye if she didn’t confess this weekend’s sins.

  Worrying about what to say to Eli, a man she’d known most of her life and yearned for almost every one of those years.

  Being with him had brought to life a million fantasies, made a million of her dreams come true. But they couldn’t last. And worse yet, she was afraid she might only be a temporary distraction for him. A rebound relationship designed to help him get over his breakup.

  Which only added to her misery, because if there was one role she’d never played in her fantasies of being with Eli, it was a substitute for the woman he truly craved.

  “This was a mistake,” she murmured, still staring into the distance.

  She should be leaping away from his touch, grabbing her clothes and fleeing his room, racing back to Charleston. Not that she had any idea what she’d do once she got there. Lock herself inside her own bedroom, maybe, and refuse to come out, refuse to speak to anyone until her guilt and humiliation wore off. If it ever did.

  “No, it wasn’t,” Eli responded without missing a beat.

  His nose nuzzled her hair, his lips grazing her earlobe. The arm around her waist tightened, pulling her even closer to his bare—and obviously masculine—length. He wasn’t fully aroused, but he wasn’t soft, and he made no secret of the fact.

  “What are we going to tell Laurel?” she asked, her voice crackling with the sinking of her heart.

  “Nothing. She has nothing to do with this. With us. We’re consenting adults. We don’t owe her, or anyone else, an explanation.”

  If only it were that simple.

  “We didn’t use protection.” The flip-flop of her stomach at that knowledge—realized too late to do anything but panic—joined her rapidly descending heart until everything in her felt heavy and weighted down.

  “I know,” Eli admitted. “You got me so worked up, I completely forgot. I’m sorry.”

  He pressed a kiss to her temple, sliding his arm higher until it just brushed the undersides of her breasts. “I don’t want you to worry, though. If anything happens, you know I’ll do the right thing.”

  Wonderful. So if she wound up unexpectedly pregnant to her sister’s ex-fiancé, he would “do the right thing” and marry her, giving even more grist to the overactive Charleston gossip mill. That had never been part of her fantasies, either.

  She felt, as well as heard, Eli’s long sigh. With a tug at her shoulder, he rolled her onto her back. She held the sheet to her chest, but otherwise just lay there, passive and pliant.

  Propping himself up on one arm, he hovered over her, gazing down into her eyes.

  “You need to stop worrying so much,” he told her. “About other people, and about what they think. You’re not responsible for the entire world, you know. Or even your family.”

  She raised a brow, knowing she should be offended, but lacking the energy to get worked up. “That’s a terrible thing to say. I love my family.”

  “Of course, you do. I love your family. But you spend so much time taking care of everyone else that you never stop to consider what you need or want.” He splayed his fingers and ran them through the hair at her temple. “You have a right to your own life, Kara. A right to be happy.”

  “I am happy,” she protested.

  “Happy enough,” he agreed. “You’re not sitting in a bathtub with a straight razor, that’s for certain.”

  She wrinkled her nose at the image that created. She preferred to sit in a bathtub full of bubbles, with maybe some candles, rose petals, soft music, a glass of wine… And the only razor she took in with her was of the leg-shaving variety.

  “But your first thought is always for others. What you can do for them, what they need, how you can help them. Even your job is about fulfilling everyone else’s wants and needs over your own.”

  Okay, she was beginning to get some of her strength back. Annoyance was building.

  “Since when is not being a selfish jerk such a crime?” she charged.

  He shook his head. “It’s not a crime. You are an amazing, caring, selfless human being. I just want you to admit that we’re enjoying ourselves, and that there’s nothing to be guilty about.”

  “When a person does something that hurts, or has the potential to hurt, another person, they should feel remorseful.”

  Eli cocked his head, still hanging over her, still stroking her hair. “Who are we hurting?”

  She opened her mouth, a name popping immediately to her mind, but he covered her lips, stopping her before she could speak.

  “Don’t say Laurel.” He sighed, a shadow passing over his coffee-brown eyes. “Dammit, Kara, you’re not her keeper. She’s the eldest sister, so if anything, she should be yours. But even that doesn’t matter, because she is not a part of this. Laurel is a grown woman, she can take care of herself a
nd make up her own mind, and that’s exactly what she’s done. She called off the wedding because she doesn’t want to be married to me.”

  Licking his lips, he held her gaze. Glared down at her might be a better description. But despite the harsh lines of his face and the darkness of his glower, she could see the sincerity in his expression and had no choice but to believe him, no matter how strongly her gut told her to deny his words.

  “And I’m fine with that. After giving it a bit of thought, I don’t think I really wanted to be married to her, either. But I do want to be here with you now. And I want you to want to be here with me.”

  A sob worked its way up from her diaphragm and she swallowed hard to hold it back. She knew he meant what he said, believed he meant it.

  She wasn’t sure it was enough to override all of the issues still clamoring between them, but for the moment, it was enough to make her forget.

  Her hands came up to stroke his shoulders, his biceps, back up to cup his square jaw. “I do want to be here with you,” she told him barely above a whisper.

  It was easier to admit than she would have expected. Maybe because it was so very true.

  A wide smile spread across his face, lifting the shadows.

  “That’s something, anyway,” he murmured.

  Then he kissed her, mashing his lips against hers, snaking his tongue inside to duel and suck and claim her as thoroughly as his body had during their lovemaking less than an hour before.

  For long minutes, they were twined together. Her arms and legs tangled with his while he rested in the cradle of her thighs. His mouth devoured her, overwhelmed her, but in the best way possible.

  When he lifted his head, his ragged breaths dusted her face with warmth. His smile was still there, making him look happy and youthful and carefree. The emotions were contagious, and she couldn’t help but smile back.