by Lowe, Fiona
His mouth broke contact.
She cried out as loss rammed her. “Don’t stop.”
His mouth twitched. “Sweetheart, I’ll keep going when your hands stop clamping my head like a vise.”
“Sorry.” She dropped her hands. “It’s just so good.”
He dipped his head again and his mouth suckled her other breast. A moment later she bucked toward him and her fingers dug into his shoulders.
His hands caught hers and he laid them tenderly above her head, keeping one of his hands gently over them. Her breasts rose as her shoulders pressed against the mattress. Part of her felt totally exposed but most of her felt unbelievably desirable. She’d never experienced anything like it.
He kissed her on the nose. “Your hands need to stay here so they don’t keep getting in the way and nothing short of fire or flood can move them.”
“But I want to touch you.”
“And you will, I promise. But right now this is going to work better for you.”
She didn’t understand. “Why? I mean it—”
“Shh.” He put his finger to her lips. “Just trust me on this.”
And despite only knowing him a few days she knew she could accommodate his request. “I do trust you.”
“Excellent. Now where was I?”
His curls brushed her face as he trailed kisses across her chest and then his tongue wove a slow, meandering path between her breasts and down her belly. Unlike the glorious but almost excruciating pleasure of his mouth sucking her nipples, this had her moaning out a long sigh. Although at first she wanted to touch him and give back to him, she slowly relaxed and totally submitted to his touch—losing herself in every luscious sensation.
His mouth moved past her belly button, moving lower and lower and her body floated on a river of heady arousal. She was vaguely aware of his fingers tightening slightly around her wrist and then his tongue caressed her most sensitive place between her legs.
She whimpered with building need, her hips left the bed and her arms tensed, wanting to wrap themselves around him and hold on tight. Deep inside her muscles throbbed, desperate to have him fill them. She lifted her wrists and his hand fell away but before she could touch him, his mouth and tongue did things to her that she never wanted to stop. Heat spiraled, need burned, sheer and intense pleasure built—spinning faster and faster until she thrashed under his touch, wanting more, needing more, and she greedily took everything he offered. Wave after wave of wonder took her higher and higher until she thought she’d die from exquisite pain. As she tumbled over the edge, she heard a faint scream in the distance and realized it was her, but she was already floating high above herself on a cloud of utter bliss.
As the sensations rolled away, she slowly came back to earth and to Finn. She pressed her hand to his cheek. “That was simply amazing. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Only...”
“Only what?” A ghost of anxiety crossed his eyes.
“No, not that.” She kissed him hard and fast. “You’re unbelievably generous, not to mention talented.”
His chest expanded. “Talented. eh?”
She laughed. “Oh, I can see using that word was a mistake.” Her fingers skimmed down his chest. “It’s just I don’t get how that was good for you.”
A slight crease marred his high forehead. “Watching you orgasm is an incredible turn-on.”
His words stunned her. “Really?”
“Believe me, it is.”
He rolled her over and sat her on top of him. She could feel him hard and strong between her legs and she burned to feel him inside her.
He ran his hands through her hair, trailing his fingers through its length that fell to brush her breasts. “You’re my Lady Godiva.”
She’d never felt so powerful in her femininity as she did at that moment. She used her hands and explored every inch of his broad, toned chest that had been calling to her from the moment he’d taken off his shirt, and she pressed her lips to salty skin. As she skimmed her hands downward, she felt his tension spearing through her palms.
She gave him an arch look. “Is this bothering you?”
“No.” But his hand shot out for his shorts.
She plucked them out of his hand and found the condoms in the pocket. As his hands cupped her breasts and his fingers did delicious things to her nipples, she somehow managed to open the square foil. She rolled the condom onto him, loving the feel of him under her hands and she wanted to stroke him again and again.
“Annika.” Her name came out on a guttural moan and she saw his restraint crumbling. “You’re killing me.”
“We can’t have that.” She rose on her knees and then slowly lowered herself down on him, feeling herself opening for him and wanting to give to him what he’d just given to her. Wanting to send him spinning out on a stream of mind-altering delight.
He rose up to meet her—filling her—and her body gripped him. She kept her gaze on his face, hypnotized by the line of his jaw, the sheen of sweat on his top lip and the lust burning brightly in his eyes. Her body started moving with his and suddenly she wasn’t an onlooker anymore. Her body caught his rhythm, and she was one with him, riding fast toward the stars.
She shattered a moment before he did, but this time her orgasm scooped him up and took him with her. Together, they were flung out into space, circling each other until they fell back to earth on separate paths and rolled away from each other.
As they both lay panting, Finn rose up on an elbow and brushed her hair from her cheek. He stared down at her with deep dimples carved into his cheeks and a quiet smile on his lips. “No tripping, dropping or stumbling. I think we’ve just found the one sport you’re incredibly good at.”
She rolled into his arms laughing. “I was pretty hot, wasn’t I?”
“Totally hot.”
She traced her finger along his sternum. “And you’re very talented.”
He grinned. “We’re the perfect summer combination.”
She rested her head on his chest, feeling the rhythmic rise and fall of each breath. All she knew was that she’d never had sex like it. Not that she’d had many partners and she didn’t really count her first time in a college dorm with a boy who’d known even less than she did. Based on that experience she’d always thought sex with Ryan had been adequate and he’d certainly never complained although her needs had often been left behind. She now realized she’d been shortchanged by him more than just emotionally and financially.
Finn shifted slightly and immediately groaned as his elbow hit the floor. “Next time we’re doing this in my bed.”
She refused to feel embarrassed about the rush of tingles that shot through her at the thought of a next time. She did a quick calculation of the number of days between now and Labor Day and smiled.
Chapter Ten
“Nicole said your meeting with the brides went well.”
Annika looked up from her sketch of the monogram she’d been toying with for Jessica’s wedding and smiled. When hunger had finally driven them from the air mattress, they’d enjoyed a meal together before Finn had been caught up on a work call. Annika had unpacked her pens and ink, lit citronella candles along the veranda and made herself comfortable on the glider swing. Now Finn stood before her holding two glasses of wine.
“Both brides were lovely. I’m still a bit stunned we’ve got two weddings booked and for me, it’s going to involve at least one day, possibly
two, spent in Duluth sorting out the invitations.”
“Why?” He set the glasses down on a low table and sat down next to her, the swing moving gently under his weight.
“Jessica, one of the brides-to-be, wanted the print on her invitations to be raised so I need to use a—”
“Thermography machine.”
She blinked at him—twice—stunned that he knew exactly what she needed. “Yes, but how do you know that?”
He gave her a bemused look. “Annika, exactly what do you think AKP does?”
“Recycles paper.” At least that was what most of the correspondence she’d dealt with had been about.
“Recycling’s one part of the business and the new plant in Mexico’s been my focus while Sean’s been taking care of the packaging side. But AKP is all about paper.” His eyes lit up with a glow of pride. “All kinds of paper. We supply companies with everything from pulp to triple crown stock and I bet we make the paper you use for your invitations.”
She immediately thought of the quality paper used for Bridey’s engagement party invitation. “And that’s how you know about thermography.”
“Yep. My grandfather and Sean insisted we spend time working in all areas of the company. I started off in the boutique paper area and I’ve used a thermography machine.”
Finn was full of surprises. “So you know how fiddly it is. I have to quickly calligraphy one invitation at a time in sticky ink, immediately apply the gold powder and then run it through the machine. That’s why it’s going to take two long days. Longer if the humidity is high.”
“I need you here.”
The softly spoken words made her stomach flip but when she looked at him she could only see the astute businessman. “I can go up on the weekend.”
“What if you rented the machine from AKP? We can write that into the contract and you can set up a studio in the warehouse rent-free.”
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You’d do that?”
He shrugged. “I told Nicole I’d support Weddings That WOW with some office equipment and this is all part of that.”
Of course it was. This wasn’t personal at all—just business, and she’d do well to remember to keep the two very separate. She pulled up the inexperienced businesswoman within and started haggling. “I’ll need fans for the temperature control.”
“Okay. That won’t pull much power.” He pulled out his phone and started typing a text message. “I can have the machine here in the morning. But we need to have a schedule.” He hit Send and turned to her—the quintessential businessman on an organizational roll. “I need you in the office every morning and you can do your studio work in the afternoons. We’ll leave the truck at the Whitetail dock and you use the boat to travel back and forth because it’s a lot quicker, especially if I need you back here urgently for something.”
“Like transposing conference calls?”
But her teasing reference to his made-up call earlier in the day didn’t elicit a smile or even a delicious twinkle in those dark and enigmatic eyes. With a jolt she realized he was serious. Of course he was—he was talking about business.
His phone beeped with a return message. “By the way, your new phone’s arriving in the morning and your first job is to synchronize our electronic diaries. I need to be able to contact you as necessary and you need to have the phone with you and turned on at all times.”
A ripple of irritation shot through her. “Is that in the contract?”
“Damn straight.”
She crossed her arms and tried not to raise her voice. “So I can’t ever turn my phone off.”
“It can be off when mine’s off.” For the first time in the conversation, he smiled and treacherously divine dimples carved into his cheeks.
She tried to ignore the sweep of heat that whooshed to her toes at his smile. “Oh, right, so that’s never.”
His eyes burned bright with the same spark of need she knew lit her own. Holding her gaze, he pressed the off button on his phone and slowly laid it down on the side table.
She watched mesmerized. She’d never known an everyday action to be so erotic. His arms reached for her at the same moment she moved into his lap. Yet again, they didn’t make it to the bed.
* * *
Bridey had three yellow legal pads on the kitchen table, along with copies of almost every wedding magazine that had been published this month and her laptop was open displaying photographs of wedding cakes. Every day for two weeks she’d been compiling lists upon lists for the wedding and sending Hank emails filled with pictures.
Her father strolled in and gave her shoulder a squeeze as he glanced at the organized piles. “Ah, wedding planning. Having fun, Baby-girl?”
She leaned into her father’s hand and rubbed her temples. “There are so many decisions to make and get right. Which cake do you prefer?” She pointed to a more traditional nine-tier cake with a matching cascade of sugar-flower roses and calla lilies that wound around the tiers. The only color was the yellow stamen of the lilies which gleamed gold against the elegant ivory. The other cake could have been mistaken for a basket filled with a mass of spring flowers.
“Honey, it’s your wedding so it’s up to you. Choose whatever makes you happy and I’ll be there to give you away and to pay the bill.”
“Yes, but do you have an opinion?”
“As long as they both taste like cake, that’s enough for me.” He kissed the top of her head and walked into the kitchen.
She tried not to sigh. She should have known better than to ask her father. Although he’d been married three times the weddings had always been arranged by the brides or, in the case of his marriage to her mother, hastily organized by the bride’s parents. Finn had been born seven months later.
Her wedding to Hank and their marriage was going to be very different, starting with Hank being involved in every step of the wedding planning. That had been part of her plan for this vacation. But Hank was in Chicago and had been for almost two weeks and she was here. He wasn’t responding to her emails about wedding venues or cakes or boutonnieres. When she tried to talk to him about it on the phone he usually sounded so tired that she hadn’t pushed him for any opinions, but she was starting to get anxious about it. She wanted his input. She didn’t want to make any mistakes in the planning because everything had to be perfect. If the wedding was perfect then their marriage would be perfect. But so far the planning of the wedding wasn’t going to plan.
Snapping down the lid of her laptop, she also snapped down her disappointment.
So organize the other part of the plan.
Bridey was her father’s “Baby-girl,” no matter that she was twenty-nine, and her father usually gave her what she wanted—within reason. He’d always been generous with gifts for both her and Finn, although she suspected they came with some of his guilt attached. Growing up, Finn had hated the gifts and had returned many. Bridey had always loved pretty things and felt no compunction in accepting them. As a result, her relationship with her father had fared better than Finn’s. In the last couple of years, she’d taken to inviting Sean to her guest speaker gigs at local colleges and most times he’d attended and had then taken her out for dinner afterward. Had she ever been asked the question, she’d probably say that right now their relationship was the closest it had ever been.
“Daddy.”
“Yes.” Sean poured himself a glass of iced water from the dispenser
in the door of the fridge.
“Do you remember the zip line?”
He smiled. “You used to scream like a banshee every time you rode it and then you’d swim back to shore and do it all over again.”
“I was thinking maybe Logan might get a kick out of something like that.”
Sean sipped his water and Bridey held her breath while silently willing him with a chant of please, please, please.
He put the glass down. “That’s not a bad idea, B.”
Yes! Bridey pulled a brochure out of the back of her diary that she’d carefully placed there a month ago. “Here’s the number of a company that installs them. When you call, ask for Jeff.”
Sean rubbed his chin, deep in thought. “Actually, Bridey, I don’t need the number. The zip line is just the sort of project I’ve been looking for.”
Bridey started. “You’re going to build it?”
He laughed at her surprise. “Honey, I did engineering at college.”
The loud whirring noise of the helicopter cut off her reply. “Do you and Dana have guests for the weekend?”
“Not that I know about.”
Dana came in from the garden, her brows drawn down. “Sean, have you forgotten to tell me something?”
Sean smiled at his wife before kissing her on the cheek. “I’m in the clear this time. Besides, I promised you this summer is about us, not work.”
Dana touched Sean’s cheek and exchanged a smile with him that made Bridey feel like an outsider. She loved that her father was happy and unlike Sean’s second wife, she really liked Dana a lot, but a tiny part of her still ached for the family she’d lost when her parents had separated. She knew it was silly because Dana was a much better fit for Sean than Kathleen had ever been, but it was moments like this that made Bridey feel she didn’t have a family as such, more a collections of parts. Parts that never came together to form a whole unit.
