by Kara Lennox
“You can help knead,” she said to Luc. She could use another pair of hands. She’d made a big batch of dough, which required kneading in two parcels, anyway.
They stood side by side at the counter working the dough. Loretta had always enjoyed kneading bread. It put her into a meditative state. She felt connected to the earth and all its bounty with the heady smell of flour and yeast all around her.
But now the experience contained a whole new level of sensuality. She found herself paying attention to Luc’s strong hands working the springy dough, squishing it between his fingers, then balling it up and pounding it with his fists. Her mouth went dry and other parts of her sprang to life as she imagined those hands on her, kneading, massaging…
She took in a sharp breath and forced her attention back to her own ball of dough. But she couldn’t block out his presence when he was standing inches from her and she could smell him and hear his breathing and the rustle of his clothes and see his sinewy forearms as his muscles stretched and bunched.
“How long do we do this?” he asked.
“Hands getting tired?”
“No. It feels good. I like the feel of the dough.”
Oh, Lord. Luc was a sensualist, like her.
“I guess that’s good enough. Now we let it rise.” She got out a couple of bowls and set the balls of dough inside, covering each with a clean towel. She set them near enough to the oven that they would receive some ambient warmth.
“How long do they have to rise?”
“An hour should do it.”
“So what do we do while we’re waiting?”
Did she only imagine the blatant invitation in his voice? What happened to their agreement to ignore their mutual attraction?
It wasn’t really an agreement, she realized. She’d been the one to declare she didn’t want or need a man in her life. Luc had never said he wouldn’t try to change her mind.
“I have a jillion things to do—like package up orders for the school bus.” She explained about how she marketed her products to the parents of the kids on Zara’s bus.
“Very clever,” he commented. “You get the kids hooked on free samples, then they beg their parents to buy sweets from you.”
“Mostly it’s the parents who get hooked. But, yeah, that’s exactly the idea. Free samples are the way to go.”
She was pleased she had turned the conversation to something as innocuous as marketing, skillfully ignoring the challenge in Luc’s eyes. Now, she should just thank Luc again for all he’d done and send him on his way. Didn’t he have a B and B to run?
But she couldn’t find the words to send him away. She simply liked having him around. It would be way too easy to get used to this.
She went to her bakery cases, where she’d stored the items she’d baked that morning in her conventional oven. Thank goodness they hadn’t still been on the cooling rack during the raccoon incident. They’d have gotten all tainted with smoke and she would have had to start over.
Luc came up behind her, close but not touching. She could feel his body heat through his clothing and hers. “I could help you with that. Then you could get it done in half the time.”
“Luc, you don’t have to—” She stopped. Luc was nibbling the back of her neck. He’d moved his hands to her waist, where he now held her gently but insistently, preventing her escape—as if she’d wanted to escape.
“If you got your work done in half the time,” he said in that low, sexy voice of his, “you’d have time for…other things.”
“Luc!” His name came out a squeak, rather than the forceful admonition she’d intended. “What if someone walked in and found you…and me…”
“You haven’t had a customer since I got here.”
Yeah, more’s the pity. “But you said…we said…the other day…”
“I’m sorry, I can’t help myself. I never knew baking could be so sexy.”
She couldn’t really criticize him for that thought, since she’d had the same one. Would it hurt? Would it really hurt? She was a woman with a normal woman’s needs. They were both single and unencumbered…except for Luc’s girlfriend.
He moved his hands to her abdomen and pulled her closer, and she leaned back against his hard chest.
“Luc, I…your girlfriend.”
“Mmm.” He stopped. Good, he ought to feel guilty. He swiveled her around so he could look into her eyes. His face was so close she could see each individual eyelash. “Is that all that’s bothering you?” he asked.
The girlfriend made for a handy excuse. “Is that all? I don’t know how you were raised, but I happen to believe in loyalty and faithfulness and honesty. My husband had none of those qualities, and it was very hurtful.”
“I’m sorry he hurt you.” Luc caressed her face. She could have stopped him, could have sidestepped him and insisted he put some distance between them. But she didn’t. She was weak. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”
“I’m not talking about me. I’m talking about her.”
He had the gall to laugh. “Loretta, there is no her. There is no girlfriend.”
“But you said—”
“I figured it would be easier for us both if you thought I was committed elsewhere, that’s all. I shouldn’t have lied about it, though, and I won’t anymore. My life might not be an open book, but I won’t lie again.”
Strangely, though she had no reason to, she believed him.
She also realized he’d neatly eliminated all her stated reasons for resisting him. And when he was looking at her like that, with fire in his eyes, she was helpless to resist, anyway. He could have a hundred girlfriends, and she’d be applying for the position of Girlfriend #101.
He was waiting for her to say the word.
She knew what the sensible answer was. But she didn’t feel like a sensible woman. The fire building inside her right now was hotter than the one in her oven, and it was burning all the sanity right out of her. A few inches, that was all that separated their mouths—all that separated Loretta from crossing a threshold that would change her life forever. After making love with Luc Carter, she would never be the same, of that she was sure.
The voice inside her that made her do crazy things—the one that was usually subdued by life’s responsibilities and practicalities—suddenly was yelling into a megaphone. Take the risk! Life is meant to be lived.
She took a step forward, closed the gap, and kissed him in a way that would leave no doubt as to what her answer was.
“Loretta,” he whispered between kisses, and her name spoken in his husky voice was a turn-on in itself.
But they couldn’t stay here in the bakery. “Just a minute.” She pulled out of his embrace long enough to flip over the sign on the door to Closed and engage the lock. When she turned back, Luc was standing right behind her, apparently unwilling to let her get far out of reach.
“I’m not running away,” she said.
“I wouldn’t let you.”
LUC STILL COULDN’T believe he’d done this. He’d promised Doc and himself that he would leave her alone. He knew she was fragile, yet he was powerless to resist her.
She returned to him and took his hand, leading him into her house, to her bedroom. Holding her hand gave him an oddly sweet feeling, especially given that explosive kiss they’d just shared. He shouldn’t be feeling sweet. He should be feeling turned on, and he was.
But he also felt a strange tenderness for Loretta that wasn’t the norm for him.
He’d never gotten emotionally entangled with a woman. He’d had his share of girlfriends, but he’d always been careful not to pick the sweet ones, the vulnerable ones who might get hurt. He wasn’t the sticking-around type of guy, and every girlfriend he’d ever had knew that going in.
Loretta didn’t, not really.
He should tell her. She had a right to know. But as they entered her bedroom, with its pink walls and frilly bedspread and every girlie item he could imagine, he knew the time for explanati
ons had passed.
“I’m a little rusty.” She cast her eyes down in a self-conscious way that had Luc’s heart doing flip-flops.
“Me, too,” he admitted. Now that he thought about it, this was probably the longest he’d gone without sex since he’d lost his virginity to a Jamaican hotel maid at age sixteen. Lately he’d had other things on his mind. “But I don’t think I’ve forgotten how.” He pulled her close again and kissed her, more tenderly this time. He didn’t want her to be scared.
She sure didn’t kiss as if she were scared—or out of practice. After a few seconds of soft kisses and nibbles, Loretta heated up like a roman candle. She locked her mouth onto his and pressed her body against him until he was the one who thought he was going to burn up. She still smelled slightly of smoke, which only enhanced the image he had in his brain of the two of them going up in flames.
He slid his hands under her gauzy blouse, using the tips of his thumbs to graze the undersides of her breasts. Her bra felt all silky and lacy, and he was surprised that he didn’t have the urge to dispense with it and get on with the good stuff.
Because it was all good stuff. Every sigh, every breath against his skin, the way her spiky hair felt against his cheek. The ends were stiff from whatever product she used to make it stand out, but when he burrowed his fingers into the hair close to her scalp, it was soft as the finest silk.
He pulled her shirt over her head and stopped to just look at her. One great thing about sex in the afternoon was the natural light pouring into the bedroom.
When he stared for too long, she blushed. He’d already forgotten he was trying to make her comfortable, so he pulled her against him again and just held her. “Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are?”
“Don’t be silly,” she said. “I’m average in every way.”
Average? Surely she didn’t actually believe that. “No, babe. I’ve seen average and I’ve seen stunning, and I know what camp you’re in.”
She laughed. “You’ve been with lots of women.”
“Does that bother you?”
“No. A man who can have any woman but chooses me, well, at least for this moment—that feels good.”
This moment, and a lot of others if he had his way. He wished now he hadn’t told Doc he’d keep away from Loretta. He’d meant to, but he wasn’t that strong. “You know what else feels good?”
“I bet I can guess.”
“Naked skin against naked skin, that’s what.” He pulled his own shirt off, and then they were racing to see who could get their clothes off first. Shoes got kicked under the bed, underwear went flying, and they came together again, breathless. Luc pressed his arousal into the cradle of her hips and marveled at how well they fit together.
They still hadn’t touched the bed, but Luc kept looking at it. They stood near it, exploring each other with fingertips and mouths and tongues. Loretta was surprisingly fearless in her explorations, as if she wanted to experience him with all of her senses.
He could spend a lifetime discovering all there was to know about Loretta Castille.
She surprised him again by boldly grasping his arousal.
“Whoa, careful there.” He laughed a bit nervously. She had no idea how precariously he was balanced, or how easy it would be to send him over the edge. A couple of years of celibacy had given him a hair trigger, and he didn’t want this to end quickly.
“Should we…you know, get into bed now?” she asked.
He found her combination of bold action and timid words endearing. So many intriguing contrasts. He pulled the covers back on her poofy four-poster bed, and a light, flowery scent drifted up.
The woman perfumed her sheets. She couldn’t have known he’d be here today, so she must do it on a regular basis, just for herself.
“It’s a very feminine bed.” She sounded embarrassed. “You’ll probably feel silly lying in it.”
“The only thing I feel is turned on. But for the record, I love your bed and I’m honored you’re inviting me into it.” He sat on the edge and pulled her down into his lap, prolonging his sweet torture as her bottom pressed against him.
In one deft move he leaned back and rolled them both onto the bed. The mattress was softer than anything he’d ever slept on. “You have a feather bed.”
“Just a feather mattress topper. What can I say? I’m self-indulgent.”
“I’m planning to indulge you.”
LUC’S WORDS SENT tendrils of pleasure along Loretta’s nerve endings. She could hardly believe she was doing this, and she felt like she was doing everything wrong—responding hotly at the wrong moments, talking when she should shut up, thinking of her own pleasure instead of Luc’s.
But she was at the mercy of those damnable hormones. She could blame them for the misfiring neurons in her brain, too, that caused this temporary lapse in judgment. Her will had simply disappeared, and all she could do was go along for the ride, and a highly enjoyable ride it was.
Luc nudged her onto her back, and at first she felt pure relief that he was going to put an end to the suspense. Her blood was churning, her skin hot, her breath coming in short spurts. She was ready to see this through, ready to know what it was like to make love with Luc.
But he had other ideas.
He started by kissing her again, very thoroughly, his tongue darting in and out of her mouth in a teasing way. She made a noise low in her throat, a sound of need that was, again, embarrassing but over which she had no control. She’d hoped he would take it as encouragement that she was ready, that he wasn’t rushing her.
But he was the one who wouldn’t be rushed, she realized, as his attention wandered to her neck, which he kissed and nuzzled. Meanwhile his hands weren’t idle. He explored her breasts as if they contained the great mysteries of the universe.
She squirmed under his touch. She was afraid she was simply going to implode from all the stimulation. Then he took her nipple into his mouth and sucked gently, and a cord seemed to stretch inside her body, straight from her breast to her core.
To her total amazement and embarrassment, she did implode. He wasn’t even touching her…there. She was one great big uncontrollable ball of female need and he was taking full advantage. All she could do was gasp with the overwhelming pleasure of it all.
He chuckled low in his throat, and she cuffed him lightly on the ear. “You think that’s funny?”
“Not funny, exactly,” he said, looking up at her with a wicked smile. “But very enjoyable.”
“In case you were worried, you haven’t lost your touch.” But she silently added that she was pretty sure she hadn’t lost hers, either. It was like riding a bicycle, right? She reached between their bodies and found his rigid erection, and his smile abruptly disappeared.
“Oh, honey.” He rolled over onto his back. “What are your plans?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” And she pleasured him the way she knew men most loved to be pleasured, hoping he would exhibit the same lack of control that she’d shown.
But he had more discipline than she did—or maybe she had lost her touch. Because although he obviously enjoyed what she was doing, he didn’t climax right away.
After a short while, Loretta found she was feeling all squirmy again. Giving him pleasure had turned her on again. Abruptly she straightened to her knees, and at Luc’s questioning look, she swung one leg over him and prepared to take what she wanted.
“Oh, now, wait a minute—”
“I don’t want to wait.”
He smiled at her audacity. “When you’re riding a bicycle for the first time in years, you don’t immediately start doing wheelies.”
“I like wheelies.” She grasped the iron-hard length of him and guided him to her. She was hot and slick with need, and he stopped pretending to want anything else.
She started to sheathe him, slowly at first, but then she just needed to fill herself with him.
“I can’t…control things as well…from this position.” Luc’s face
had gone rigid, his eyes closed.
“That’s the idea. I want to see you lose control.” And she started to move.
“You’ll get your wish.” He grasped her by the hips in a vain attempt to slow her down. But now she was off and there was no stopping her. She slid up and down the length of him, drawing him in more deeply each time, wondering if she’d developed a whole new set of nerve endings, because she couldn’t remember sex feeling anything like this before. She closed her eyes and gave in to it, and to her amazement, she came again with a burst of heat so explosive she actually looked down at herself to see if she was still in one piece.
She caught Luc’s grin of triumph just before his face tensed and he grimaced. “Oh. Lo, you…I…” But whatever he’d been trying to say got caught in his throat as he found his own pleasure, thrusting violently inside her two or three times, his hands gripping her even more tightly. She would have bruises where he held her—bruises where his fingers clutched.
Something to remember this crazy afternoon by…for a few days, anyway.
As her own climax faded, she slumped against him. He wrapped his arms around her and she savored the closeness, the feel of his sweat-slicked skin those last few precious seconds they were joined, before his body relaxed completely and she pulled away from him.
“Loretta.” The way he said her name was almost a growl.
“Luc.”
“Are you by any chance on the pill?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
TALK ABOUT COMING BACK to earth in a hurry.
“Uh, no,” Loretta said.
“Ah. Then I guess we should have had this conversation a few minutes ago.”
“You know, it never occurred to me. Which is pretty stupid.”
“Hell, it’s not as if I don’t know better.” He sighed. “I’ve never in my life forgotten that little detail.”
“And I’ve never in my life had to think about it. Jim and I never used anything, and it took me two years to get pregnant. So we probably don’t have anything to worry about.”
