by Beth Andrews
He fell to his knees, slid her underwear off, then trailed his hands up the backs of her legs. She shuddered. He pressed his face against her mound, inhaled her unique scent. She stiffened.
Though he wanted nothing more than to taste her, to bring her pleasure with his mouth and tongue, he wouldn’t push her into something she wasn’t ready for. He kissed her there, allowed himself one quick flick of his tongue, then straightened, kissing her voraciously. She returned his hunger as he walked her back toward the bed. Her gaze locked with his as she crawled, backward, onto the middle of the bed, the movements doing some really interesting things to her breasts, the roundness of her belly.
He stripped off his shirt and threw it aside, made quick work of his jeans and underwear, remembering at the last minute to grab a condom from his wallet before he joined her on the bed. He kissed her, touching her breasts, her stomach, her legs, until she writhed beneath him, her skin hot and damp with sweat. He slid his hand lower, brushed her curls. She lifted her hips and he grinned against her mouth.
Yeah, for tonight, she was all his.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
HARPER COULDN’T BREATHE, could barely think. Maybe that was for the best when thinking would only take her out of this moment, this surreal, wonderful moment in time. She didn’t want the guilt to seep in, didn’t want to hear that little voice in her head telling her it was too soon, that she shouldn’t want this, shouldn’t want Eddie as much as she did.
But how could she not when he touched her so gently, so reverently? When his mouth and hands were on her, bringing her body to life? Making her want him so urgently?
Still kissing her, those mind-melting kisses that made her crazy, he slid his hand lower. And lower until he cupped her. She squirmed, her hips lifting in supplication, her hands reaching for him, grabbing him for purchase, as a sign that he should keep going, to please, please keep going. As if hearing her silent plea, he flicked the pad of his finger over the sensitive bud at her core. Again. Then again.
It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough, but it felt so good she couldn’t complain that he was teasing her, bringing her to the brink this way. He settled his hand on her, rubbed harder. Faster. Her breathing quickened, her pulse sped. Pleasure coursed through her, spiraling higher and higher.
And when he slid one finger inside of her, that pleasure spun out of control, zipping through her with enough force to have her back arching, her hands clenching on Eddie’s arms. A long, low moan ripped from her throat as her orgasm crashed through her, leaving her body sated, her muscles lax.
Eddie rolled away long enough to cover himself and then he was back, kissing her again, settling his warm, solid body on top of hers. The tip of his erection nudged her inner thigh. Hot. Hard. He gripped her butt, pulled her down and entered her smoothly, slowly. As if knowing this was a big moment for her, a huge moment, he stilled, deeply embedded inside of her, letting her body adjust to his size.
He raised up onto his arms, his hands flat on the bed by her head. “Okay?” he asked, his arms shaking with the effort to contain himself, his mouth tight, his eyes dark with want.
Tears pricked her eyes but this wasn’t the time for crying. Even if those tears had been caused by him being so sweet, so concerned. She smiled up at him, touched his cheek with the back of her hand. “Much better than okay,” she whispered.
He smiled and it took her breath away. Then he was kissing her again, moving inside of her, and breathing became unimportant. All that mattered was the man on top of her, inside of her. The feel of his body, the way his muscles bunched and flexed with his movements, his scent. They were what was important to think about. To try and remember. Eddie Montesano was making love to her.
And she didn’t want to ever forget a single thing about this, about their first time together. Not when she knew, better than most, how fleeting these perfect, life-altering moments could be.
She had to remember as much as possible, the rasp of his tongue against hers, the light scratch of his whiskers on her skin, the taste of him. But he quickened his pace, his fingers digging into her hips, his chest rubbing against her overly sensitized nipples causing them to peak and tighten. She wanted to embed his every move into her memory but how could she when every move had desire building again, had her satisfied body craving more?
Time seemed to splinter into pieces of movement—the brush of the hair on his legs against hers, the sound of his breathing by her ear, the feel of his breath on her neck. He shifted, pulling her down on the bed even farther. She wrapped her legs around his waist, the move bringing them even closer, letting him go deeper. He pumped into her again and again. Pleasure built inside of her and she came once more, this time riding the wave of her orgasm as it washed through her.
“Eddie,” she gasped, and he looked at her, startled, questioning, already slowing, but she shook her head, pumped her own hips to encourage him to keep going. She’d just wanted to say his name. For him to know he was the only man she was thinking about, that she knew who she was with and that she wasn’t wishing he was anyone else. She held his gaze. “Eddie.”
Emotion swam in his eyes and he kissed her, his body milking her own pleasure until he followed her over the edge with a rough groan.
Minutes—or hours, who could tell?—later, Harper’s body was cooling, her breathing returning to normal. Eddie padded into the attached bathroom, returning a moment later, not the least bit self-conscious about his nudity. Then again, why should he be? He was beautiful, his shoulders wide, the muscles of his arms, chest and abs defined. Dark hair covered his chest, trailed down his flat stomach.
She, unfortunately, didn’t have his confidence and ducked under the covers, pulling them up to her chin. He climbed in next to her, gathered her in his arms and pulled her against his side. He brushed her hair back, kissed her temple. He tucked her head under his chin and sighed, a sound of complete satisfaction.
Well, she had been rather amazing, if she did say so herself.
The whole experience had been wonderful. Special and romantic and perfect.
Really, really perfect.
She pressed her face against the crook of his neck and burst into tears.
* * *
SHIT.
Panicked, Eddie sat up and Harper’s head fell back with a dull thud against the headboard. “Sorry,” he muttered, frantic, as he tried to figure out what was going on. He’d just been drifting off to sleep, thinking that if round two was going to be anything like round one had been, he was one extremely lucky—and quite possibly spoiled and overindulged—man, when Harper had started crying.
He could handle crying, he assured himself. He had a younger sister, and while Maddie wasn’t one for waterworks very often, she’d had her moments. He’d also been married, and Lena had used tears as a way to manipulate him into doing what she wanted—it had usually worked.
So, yeah, he had experience with women crying. He hadn’t lived in a cave his entire life.
But he’d never, not once, had a woman he’d just made love to—and had thought he’d done a damned good job—cry while still in bed with him.
“Hey,” he said gruffly, wanting to sound compassionate and caring, wishing like hell he knew the right thing to say. “You okay?” He winced because obviously she wasn’t okay. Idiot. He laid his hand on her shoulder, relieved when she didn’t turn or pull away. “Did I...did I hurt you?”
Had he been too rough? He’d thought she was right there with him but what if she hadn’t been? What if she regretted what had happened between them? What if she hadn’t wanted it as much as he had?
He quickly thought through everything that had happened from the moment he’d stepped into the hall and found her there waiting for him. No, he hadn’t pushed her, had tried not to even rush her. He’d given her plenty of opportunities to stop him.
Still,
he’d done something wrong. He’d made her cry.
Feeling inept and useless, he climbed out of bed and yanked on a pair of sweatpants lying on the chair, went into the bathroom and grabbed a box of tissues and a glass of water. When he returned, she was sitting up, his comforter clutched to her chest, her hair wild from his hands, from their lovemaking, the delicate skin along her chest and around her mouth pink from his whiskers. Her makeup smudged.
She made his heart stop, made him want to hold on to her and never let go.
He practically shoved the water at her. “Here.”
She took it, her hands unsteady, and drank deeply, set the empty glass aside then plucked three tissues from the box and mopped her face, gently blew her nose. “I’m sorry. God, what a mess. Maybe it’d be better if I just went home—”
“I can’t let you drive home when you’re upset,” he said. “Let me get Max and I’ll take you.”
And for some reason he’d never understand, that made her tear up again. “Sorry,” she said, covering her face with a tissue. “Sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”
“I think you do,” he said softly. He waited until she met his gaze before continuing, “Tell me.”
She swallowed, lowered her hands to her lap. “I’m not sure I even understand. I’m afraid if I try to explain, I’ll get it all mixed up.”
“You won’t.”
She knew how to use words, how to tell what was in her heart, what her thoughts were.
But she wouldn’t even look at him now, was staring at her hands as she picked apart the tissue.
“Do you regret what just happened?” he asked, half afraid to hear her answer. Realizing he needed to know the truth even if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.
Her gaze flew to his. “No. No,” she repeated firmly. “That’s the problem,” she said barely above a whisper.
“I don’t get it.”
“That’s because it’s crazy. Why am I crying? I mean, being with you was...well...it was great. And I don’t regret it, not one bit. Because I don’t, it’s like I’m really ready to say goodbye to Beau and it’s like I’m...”
“Losing him all over again?”
She nodded. “It’s stupid. He’s gone. He’s not coming back and he wouldn’t want me to be alone. I just can’t help feeling a bit emotional, you know?”
“And guilty?”
She exhaled heavily, her shoulders falling. “Maybe a little. But it’s not your fault,” she assured him quickly. “I don’t want you to think I’m comparing you to him or vice versa or that I was thinking of him while we...when you were...”
“I don’t. I’m not.” He couldn’t be jealous of a dead man. Not when Harper was here with him. But he’d known she’d been truly with him, she’d said his name, had wanted him to know she knew exactly who was making love to her, and he appreciated that.
“Good. That’s good.”
“I’m not jealous that you loved your husband,” he told her. “We’ll take it slow. Maybe tonight was too much, too soon—”
“It wasn’t,” she said, scrambling onto her knees, grabbing the comforter at the last moment before it could slide off. She took a hold of his hand. “I thought it was perfect.”
So had he. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. She was so giving, so open, and he took that openness, took all she had to give without giving much back. She’d opened up to him, had shared her body and her thoughts with him. She trusted him.
The least he could do was trust her in return.
“Lena didn’t want any kids,” he heard himself say.
Harper frowned. “Excuse me?”
“On Halloween, when we were walking home you told me Beau wanted four kids. Lena hadn’t wanted any.”
“So Max was unplanned?”
“Not quite.” He knew he’d have to start at the beginning, would have to share the story of his marriage, his greatest mistakes and failures. “Lena and I dated for only six months before we decided to get married. I wanted to settle down, and we loved each other and couldn’t figure out any reason to wait.”
“You can know a lot about a person in six months,” Harper said.
“We were okay for a while. The first year was great but by the second we were arguing more and more. Lena started bringing up divorce but I didn’t want that failure. I figured if we both tried harder, we could force it to work.”
“Sometimes that’s what it takes,” Harper said, as always compassionate and trying to see all sides of an issue. “I hadn’t realized how hard it was to live with another human being until I got married. Sharing every part of your life, compromising on so many things...it takes a lot of work each and every day.”
“I was willing to work at it. Lena went along with it. Things still didn’t get better, and even though I knew at that point I didn’t love her anymore, that maybe I never had, I brought up the idea of having a baby, a way to bring us closer. I thought if we had a child together, that bond would strengthen our marriage and we’d be this instant family and everything would be okay. I’m still not sure why Lena went along with it but two years into our marriage, we had Max. Lena tried, but she didn’t know much about kids. She missed her family, her friends in Chicago, and wanted the opportunities for her career she could have there. When she told me she was leaving, that she wasn’t cut out for marriage or motherhood, that she wanted to focus on her career, I was relieved she was leaving but I still felt like I’d failed my son because I hadn’t been able to keep my family together.”
“That is such bull,” Harper said with enough venom, Eddie raised his eyebrows. “Max’s family is intact and right here. You are his family. Your parents and your grandfather and your brothers and sister. That little boy has more family than he knows what to do with. He’s lucky. Lena is the one who’s missing out.”
He was grateful she thought so. “I’d like to believe Lena realizes what she gave up, but I’m afraid something else pushed her into wanting to spend more time with Max. At the beginning of the year, she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer.”
“That’s horrible. But she’s okay now?”
He nodded. “Max doesn’t know. Lena didn’t want to worry him and I...I don’t want him to know it took a life-threatening illness to make her realize she wants to be a bigger part of his life. I just can’t bring myself to ask her how big of a part. I’m afraid she’ll want shared or even full custody.”
“You need to find out so you can face it. Your marriage failed, Eddie. Not you. Or at least, not just you. You made a mistake and you can’t keep punishing yourself for it. You’re a wonderful father and you give Max love, support and discipline. He’s a very lucky little boy.”
Her words were a comfort, a balm. “Stay with me tonight.”
She smiled. “No.”
“No?”
“No.” She stood, kept the blanket wrapped around her. “There’s no way I’m spending the night at the house of one of my students.”
Of course not. “You’re right. Sorry. That was—”
“If you say stupid, I will hit you.”
He couldn’t help it. He grinned. “Stupid.”
She swatted his arm and he took the opportunity to grab her and pull her onto his lap. He kissed her deeply, wanted to make love to her again, but she was right. They had to think of their kids and her career and reputation.
“Stay,” he murmured. “Just for a little while longer.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m not saying yes, but I will give you a chance to convince me.”
So he set about doing just that.
* * *
JOAN SWITCHED THE PLATE of cookies to her other hand and knocked on Harper’s door. The moon glowed in the sky but snowflakes fell softly to the ground, melted on the roads and sidewalk
s, clung to the grass. She hoped she caught Cassidy before her bath. She loved giving her granddaughter a bath, loved seeing her laugh and play in the water, loved wrapping her in a towel and holding her little body close while she inhaled the clean scent of her grandbaby.
Beau had loved his bath time until he’d reached the age of eight, Joan remembered with a fond smile, and then it was as if he’d suddenly become violently allergic to water. Until he’d hit puberty and he’d started taking long showers at all times of the day.
Harper must have company as there was a Montesano Construction truck in the driveway. Harper’s cousin lived with one of the Montesano boys so maybe they were over. Harper loved to entertain. Joan felt guilty for not seeing Harper or Cass much lately but she’d been so confused, so conflicted about Steve’s attitude toward her that she’d known the best way to keep up the pretense that she was fine was to limit how much time she spent with others.
Still, she hadn’t been able to stay away another day, not when she’d realized she hadn’t seen her granddaughter in a week, that she missed talking with her daughter-in-law. Plus, Steve barely spoke to her anymore, seemed so resentful and angry. She couldn’t fix that, couldn’t fix him.
The door opened and Harper looked surprised—and not completely happy to find Joan on her doorstep.
Joan smiled. “Hello. I hope Cass isn’t asleep because I brought her favorite cookies.” She held up the plate of sugar cookies. Beau had loved her sugar cookies, too, but just the sight, the smell of them made Joan’s stomach turn.
Since Harper was just staring at her, Joan brushed past her, stepped inside. Looked around. It smelled as if Harper had cooked beef for dinner. Joan glanced into the kitchen, noticed it was clean but empty, the living room, too. Usually when her granddaughter heard her, she came running.
