Wife, Mother...Lover?

by Sally Tyler Hayes

  Once he’d kissed her that first time, he’d realized he was starving. It was too easy to be with her. It felt too good. He couldn’t seem to keep his hands off her.

  Today, during the ceremony, he hadn’t cared that three dozen people were looking on. He knew only that he’d waited a long time to kiss her again, and that once he had, he could barely bring himself to stop.

  And now he was supposed to share his house with her for the next year?

  It sounded like an eternity, if he was supposed to keep his hands off her.

  Mitch had no idea what to do. Punching his pillow, then rolling over and burying his face in it, he tried to find some peace in sleep.

  He awoke to the sound of someone knocking on his door. Wincing as the sunlight hit him square in the face, he remembered where he was and who was sleeping right next door.

  The knock sounded again and a voice called out.

  “Room service.”

  Mitch grabbed his pants and pulled them on, zipping them and fumbling with the catch. He slid his arms through the sleeves of his shirt but didn’t take the time to button it. Grabbing his watch for a second, he saw that it was almost ten o’clock in the morning. He hadn’t slept this late in years.

  When he opened the door, he found a white-coated waiter with a cart full of food, compliments of Mrs. Dalton, the man said. Mitch signed the check as the waiter set up the food. Then, bracing himself, he headed next door to find Leanne.

  If she was still in bed, he was going to be in trouble, because he wanted to climb into bed with her. And as crazy as it sounded, he didn’t think she’d offer any objections.

  She responded to him like something out of a dream, as if she was as hungry for him as he was for her. And that wasn’t helping his resolve to stay away from her.

  Mitch ran through the list of reasons he should stay away. She was Kelly’s sister. She’d done him a tremendous favor by agreeing to this marriage, by giving him this time to get his life together and hopefully foiling any attempts Rena might make to take the boys away from him.

  Sex was not part of their bargain.

  But it could be.

  Mitch came to a halt just inside the room. The bed was empty, the covers mussed, a pillow thrown on the floor. He suspected she hadn’t slept any better than he had.

  Then he heard a sound coming from the bathroom. No, he realized, the cessation of a sound. She must be getting out of the shower.

  Instantly, Mitch had a picture of her. dripping wet, her hair piled onto her head, wrapped in nothing but a towel.

  It was going to be a long day, he decided, crossing the room to the bathroom door and raising a hand to knock.

  Before he could do that, the door swung open.

  Leanne, dripping wet, her hair indeed pulled into a loose knot on her head, her skin dewy soft, her cheeks all pink from the heat, stood before him. Not in a towel. Mitch thought for a second he should be grateful for that. Then he got a look at this whisper-thin robe. White, nearly transparent when it came in contact with a drop of water on her body, it clung to her every curve and indentation like a second skin.

  Mitch heard a roaring sound in his ears—his own pulse pounding, he realized a moment later. And he was instantly, viciously, painfully aroused.

  “I thought I heard a knock,” Leanne said.

  “Breakfast,” he explained, watching in utter fascination as a drop of water fell from a lock of her hair onto her collarbone, then rolled down her neck and onto the swell of her breast, before it was soaked up by her robe.

  Before he could stop himself, his hand was there, one finger tracing the same path as that drop of water.

  Leanne gasped and shuddered. He watched her lips part, her eyes widen in surprise, then turn all smoky with desire.

  His finger was at the edge of her robe, and then he traced that, as well, down to that enticing V where the two sides of the robe crossed, held together by a little knot in a sash at her waist.

  “You don’t have a thing on under this, do you?”

  “No,” she whispered.

  She sounded as if she ached for him every bit as much as he ached for her.

  He studied the wet marks in the thin silk where it clung to her skin. She hadn’t taken the time to dry off when she’d climbed out of the shower, and he found the thought of her skin, warm and wet, incredibly erotic.

  His hand hovered above her breast, his finger still toying with the neckline of her robe. Her breath caught in her throat, and he could see the blood pounding past one of the veins in that delicious-looking neck of hers.

  He wanted a taste of her neck, of her ear, her shoulder, of all that wet skin of hers. But he settled for trailing his thumb along the underside of her breast and watching the look on her face when he did so. Her muscles tensed, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Her lips parted—an invitation he barely managed to resist.

  Before his eyes. he saw her nipples harden and push against the silk of her robe, their outline clear. He took his thumb and flicked it across her right nipple. Smiling, he heard that catch in her breath, heard her breathy moaning of his. name.

  Because he was still a little afraid of touching her the way he wanted, he opened his hand until it was flat and then rubbed at her nipple with his palm, all the while imagining the weight of that breast once he held it in his hand. And took it into his mouth.

  She was an amazingly responsive woman. Her whole body was quivering now, her hands clenching the rim of the marble vanity behind her.

  Because she wanted to touch him, too?

  He smiled, liking the fact that she couldn’t help but want him, no matter how hard she fought the feeling.

  Coming closer, he put his hands on her hips and pulled her to him, nudging his arousal against the softness of her stomach because he wanted to make sure she knew just how near to the edge he was. If she was going to stop him, it had to be now. But as he felt his body settle hard against hers, he knew he was lost.

  He shut his eyes, savoring the feeling, unable to stop a gasp of pleasure.

  Leanne made a little sound of surprise, a sinfully sexy sound. When her hand fell to his chest, pushing his shirt open, he felt the trembling in her fingers. She let her palm brush across his chest, moving slowly and taking her time, as if she absolutely loved touching him. Her simple touch, the look of pure pleasure on her face, threatened to bring him to his knees.

  Tightening his hold on her hips, he thrust gently against her.

  Leaning his head down to hers, he whispered urgently, “I’m trying very hard not to let myself think about how easy it would be to move your robe out of the way. To unzip my pants. To slide your thighs apart. And then slip inside you. It would be so easy.”

  - “Do it,” she said. her hands trailing down his chest and finding the catch to his pants, then the zipper. “Do it now, before you remember all the reasons we shouldn’t.”

  And then there was nothing but heat and a sensual haze that settled around his head, blocking out his ability to judge and his will to resist.

  It was indeed just that easy to get inside her. He parted her robe. She unzipped his pants and pushed them aside. Mitch lifted her until her hips were against the side of the marble vanity. Then he grabbed her hips and pulled her to him.

  Effortlessly, he slid inside, finding her warm and wet and welcoming.

  The heat enveloped him then, the pressure building before he’d so much as kissed that luscious mouth of hers.

  “I am never going to be able to make this last,” he confessed.

  “Next time,” she said, wrapping her legs around his.

  Mitch moaned, sensation piling on top of sensation. He was like a starving man. A greedy, starving man. He wanted her stark naked, stretched out on his bed in broad daylight, wanted all the time in the world to explore every inch of her, but he ended up taking her right there, standing up in the bathroom.

  One kiss. One deep, delicious kiss. His hands digging into her hips, his body straining ever closer, thos
e deep, inner muscles of hers gripping him as though she’d never let go.

  He didn’t want to ever let go, didn’t want to let this end, but didn’t have one ounce of self-control left. She’d robbed him of it.

  He felt the pressure building, felt his body simply explode, as he poured himself inside her. She called out his name, sank her nails into his back, and then he felt that deep, rhythmic pulsing of her body around his, before she simply collapsed in his arms.

  Leanne couldn’t move, could barely breathe. All she could do was cling to him and squeeze her eyes shut, not wanting to let go of that sensual haze that enveloped them. She nearly cried out in protest when she felt him loosen his. arms, then ease away from her. Steeling herself for whatever happened next, she was surprised and pleased when he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed.

  She felt the mattress give beneath her weight, and she reached for the sides of her robe to cover herself. But Mitch grabbed her hands in his and stopped her.

  Lifting her arms above her head, he placed her hands against the edge of the headboard and held them there. Smiling down at her, he asked, “We’re not done, are we?”

  Leanne let out a shaky breath as she felt something give way inside her. A knot of tension, maybe a sense of impending doom that had eased. If he’d turned away from her now, something inside her would have shriveled up and died on the spot.

  Instead, she smiled up at him and left her hands where he’d placed them. “No,” she said, joy flooding through her. “We’re not.”

  In that moment, he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, even more handsome now than he had been in the courthouse yesterday as he’d made his vows to her. Even more devastating than he had been a few minutes ago when he’d walked into the bathroom with his bare feet, his unsnapped slacks, his white shirt left hanging open, showing a wonderful strip of gloriously bare skin.

  She would have done anything to have him then. To have taken her so quickly, with such heat and driving impatience, he must have felt the same way.

  Now he stood at the side of the bed. She got to watch as he stripped off his shirt, kicked off his pants and stood before her without a hint of embarrassment or a stitch of clothing.

  Greedy now, she reached for him.

  “No,” he said, putting her hands back into place above her head, then sitting on the side of the bed. “This time is for you.”

  And then he set out to please her as no man had ever done before.

  First, he undid the sash of her robe, then pulled it open. She shivered, just thinking of what he was going to do next. He started near her car. nibbling and tasting and sucking in a way that had her squirming and alternately begging him to stop and begging him not to. He worked his way down the side of her neck, to the curve of her shoulder, where she’d imagined him kissing her last night when they’d walked into this room.

  He continued on to her chest, until he was nibbling on the inside curve of one breast and rubbing his nose against her skin, taking in the scent of her. His jaw was a little rough, scratching and scraping along her skin. She’d never understood just how erotic razor stubble could be.

  Her nipples absolutely ached as she waited for him to get to them. She was surprised when he didn’t bother to push her robe aside further, instead taking her nipple into his mouth and sucking on it through her robe, leaving the cloth wet and clingy where his mouth had been.

  Then he kissed his way down to her stomach, spreading fire as he went. She knew what he was going to do, and she wasn’t sure if she could stand that much more pleasure. But he positioned his lips farther down, turning his attention, instead, to the inside of her ankle.

  “Mitch?” Her voice sounded weak and thready.

  “Hmm?”

  He didn’t stop, didn’t even lift his mouth from her leg.

  She was squirming on the bed, never having imagined it could feel this good to have a man kiss her shin. When he got to the underside of her knee, she was shuddering. When he started nibbling on her thighs, she couldn’t keep her hands off him any longer. They wound their way into his hair, pulling him to her.

  Reluctantly, he lifted himself, keeping his weight on his hands, his head coming up so he could look at her. “I’m not done yet,” he told her.

  He said the words with a stamp of what she could only describe as satisfaction on his face.

  Then he was working with his tongue on her thigh again.

  “Mitch!”

  But he didn’t listen. Leanne didn’t think she’d ever been so conscious of her body or of a man’s. He settled himself onto her, his arms around her thighs as he parted them, and buried his face between her legs.

  She very nearly screamed the pleasure was so intense. Instead, she just said his name again and again. “Mitch, please. Mitch... Mitch.”

  She knew very soon that she would simply shatter. He must have known it, too, because one minute he was pleasuring her with his mouth and the next minute he was pushing his way inside her. His mouth at that tender spot on her neck, he whispered to her, “Hang on to me.”

  “I will.”

  And she did. After all, she would have done anything for him. So the next time he surged into her body, she let go of everything inside her that said that they shouldn’t be together, they had no right to find such happiness in each other’s arms. She just held on to him and came apart in his embrace.

  It was like having an explosion go off inside her body, she decided later when she could think. They had never bothered to take off her robe, so she was still wrapped up in it, her head pillowed on Mitch’s bare chest, his arms wound tightly around her.

  Even in sleep he would not let her go.

  After their second encounter he’d drifted off, and Leanne couldn’t bring herself to leave him.

  He would have to be the best lover she’d ever had, she thought, wondering if they would ever feel free to be together like this again.

  They had to be, she decided. Now that she knew what it was to be with him this way, she couldn’t go back to how things had been. He’d ruined her for other men.

  She was curious what he would say if she told him that no one had ever brought her such pleasure or drawn such a response from her. Would he think she was naive? Or sadly lacking in experience?

  She certainly wasn’t a prude. Still, she’d never felt quite like this.

  Shutting her eyes, she snuggled closer to him as he started to stir. Their time together like this was coming to an end. With tears threatening, she pondered what in the world she would tell him when he did wake up.

  Did she try not to make a big deal out of the whole thing? As if she were perfectly willing to sleep with him, as well as mother his children and pretend to be his wife for the next year, before simply walking away? Would they just add sleeping together to the bargain they’d already made?

  He shifted again, and she felt a rumbling in his chest when he spoke.

  “You’re worrying,” he said.

  It sounded like an accusation. Afraid to lift her head and look into his face, she didn’t even move.

  “And I know you’re not asleep,” Mitch said, rolling her over until she was on her back and he was leaning over her. “This is what you wanted,” he said, as though not quite sure.

  “Yes.”

  And then he kissed her, so softly and so sweetly she wanted to weep. His hand brushed her hair aside, then caressed the side of her face, soothing her and reassuring her all at once.

  “Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

  Through tear-filled eyes she looked at him, trying to figure out what was going on inside his head, seeing nothing she could distinguish in his expression, except perhaps concern for her.

  “I was afraid you’d regret this,” she said, bringing her fear right out into the open.

  He nodded. Maybe he tensed a little. She couldn’t be sure, because she wasn’t that good at reading him yet.

  “You do,” she said, her heart aching even as sh
e went to pull herself out of his arms.

  “Leanne, wait.” He wouldn’t let her go. Rolling onto his back again, he pushed her face down to his chest. “This is so awkward.”

  “I’ll say it for you so you don’t have to. You’re sorry we did this. Maybe you hate yourself a little for doing it, and you don’t ever want it to happen again, although you’re probably too much of a gentleman ever to tell me.”

  “No,” he said, speaking more forcefully. “That’s not how I feel.”

  “Then tell me how you do feel,” she said, not ready to believe him.

  “I feel about a million different things right now. And yes, guilt’s a part of it.” He laughed a bit, then added, “I probably wouldn’t feel so guilty if I hadn’t enjoyed myself so much.”

  Leanne lifted her head from his chest and gazed at him, not believing he’d said that.

  “This is not some tragedy,” he insisted. “Don’t make it out to be one. And don’t twist my words around to where you think I’m saying this didn’t mean anything to me, either. Because it did.”

  Cautiously optimistic, she asked, “So, you’re saying... what?”

  “I don’t know, Leanne. Honest to God, I don’t.” He sighed. “Are you going to kick me out of your bed now?”

  Leanne went still, so surprised that he’d make a joke. And then she thought she understood. He was a man, after all.

  “You don’t want to talk about this, do you?”

  Mitch looked her right in the eye and said, “It would be easier to talk about it if I had some idea of what I wanted to say.”

  She couldn’t fault him for that. And maybe they needed some time to sort out their feelings for each other. “I’m sorry. I’m acting as if I’m entitled to some explanation here, and I know I’m not.”

  “Wait a minute. You are the woman who’s in this bed with me,” he said with a smile. “In my book, that means you’re entitled to an explanation. I’m just not sure I have one for you. I do know that I’m starving and that I’d probably have an easier time putting my thoughts together into some coherent form if I wasn’t naked in bed with you.”