by Marie Force
“Didn’t hurt.” She couldn’t leave her hands above her head any longer. Burying her fingers in his hair, she held him tight against her breast. “Do it again.”
“This?” he asked, rolling her nipple between his teeth.
“Yes,” Grace said, gasping as heat and moisture gathered between her legs.
Evan shifted ever so slightly, his lips moving from her breasts to her belly.
Grace went rigidly still as she waited for him to ask about the scar above her belly button, but he skipped right over it and focused on removing her panties.
His hands skimmed over the insides of her legs, opening her as he moved from calf to thigh.
Grace was really, really glad she’d listened to Stephanie and Laura and properly prepared for this moment—even if would cost her fifty bucks. She expected him to reach for the condoms he’d put on the bedside table, but rather he held her open and hovered just above the juncture of her thighs. Fighting the urge to squirm, she waited breathlessly to see what he would do next. And then he arranged her legs on his shoulders, and Grace figured out what he had planned.
“Wait a minute,” she said, tugging on his hair. “Evan…”
“It’s okay, baby. Let me taste you. I bet you’re so sweet.”
All the fight went out of her as she fell back onto the pillows, vibrating with tension.
As he ran his fingers through her slickness, opening her further, Grace bit her lip to keep from screaming. Every nerve ending in her body was on fire, especially the bundle of nerves between her legs that he brushed against on every stroke. Just when she thought she might actually get used to the feel of his fingers, he slid them into her and dipped his head to use his tongue.
Oh. My. God. Nothing she had read could’ve prepared her for the moment Evan McCarthy’s tongue came into contact with her throbbing clitoris.
“I knew it,” he said. “So sweet. And so smooth. Mmm.”
A surge of need ripped through her body, converging in her aching core, threatening to break at any second. The smooth glide of his fingers demanded a portion of her attention, but then he sucked hard on her clitoris and sent her spiraling into a storm of sensation unlike anything she’d ever experienced before.
“That’s it,” he whispered, easing her down slowly with less insistent strokes of his tongue and fingers.
As if she was watching the scene from above the bed, she was aware of him lowering her legs and getting up to find a condom. He rolled it on and returned to her.
“Earth to Grace, are you with me?”
Startled out of the dream state she’d slipped into, she was suddenly aware of what was about to happen. Finally.
His brows came together in an expression of concern. “Are you okay?”
Grace reached up to brush away the furrow with her fingertips. “I’m far better than okay. You?”
He grinned down at her. “I’m very good.”
Grace took advantage of the opportunity to explore the dimples that had so fascinated her. His jaw was smooth from a recent shave, and he waited patiently for her to discover all the planes and textures of his face.
“You’re quite lovely to look at,” she said after a prolonged period of silence.
He seemed taken aback by the compliment. “I should be saying that to you.”
Grace looked up to meet his gaze in the faint light. “Is there any rule that says we can’t say it to each other?”
“None that I’m aware of,” he said, kissing her as his cock nudged at her entrance.
Grace sucked in a sharp, deep breath as he worked his way in slowly but surely while continuing to distract her with deep, drugging kisses. Tension vibrated through his big frame, no doubt from the effort it took to go slow.
She would never be able to put words to the exquisite feeling of having Evan McCarthy enter her with such care and concern. This was the way it should be, she thought as she took him in. There ought to be care and concern and emotion and genuine respect between lovers.
Before now, before tonight, she’d been disappointed it had taken her so long to have sex. Now she was glad she’d waited for Evan, because she couldn’t dream of doing this with anyone else.
Her hands found their way to his backside, squeezing and drawing another tortured groan from him. After that, he seemed to go a little crazy, moving faster in short strokes in and out until he was all the way in.
“Feel okay?” he asked, looking down at her.
“Way better than okay.” Nothing had ever felt like this. She’d been prepared for pain, but this was all about pure pleasure.
“Good,” he said, punctuating the word with another kiss. He flexed his hips, sending his cock even deeper and making contact with a sensitive place inside her.
Grace gasped. “Do that again.”
“Do what? This?” He hit the same spot, doing it again and again until the tension built to a boiling point and then burst.
She cried out as she rode a wave of astonishing pleasure.
Evan grasped her hips and moved in and out of her with increasing speed until he threw his head back and came hard before collapsing on top of her.
Grace put her arms around him, stroking his hair and back as his breathing returned to normal.
“That was incredible,” he said many minutes later.
“Yes.”
“I’m going to want to do that again very soon.”
Even though Grace worried that she’d be sore, she was game for another round if it was anything like the first one. “Me, too.”
“Give me a minute to recover from the first time, and we’ll see what we can do.”
That sent a ripple of laughter through Grace.
Evan pushed his hips against her, reminding her he was still embedded in her.
She wrapped her legs around his hips, eager to maintain the intimate contact.
They stayed like that for a long time, until he kissed her and eased his way out of her embrace to deal with the condom. He came right back, slid into bed next to her and covered them with a sheet. Lying with her back to his chest, Grace had never been more content or satisfied.
“You should’ve told me, you know.”
Grace’s heart rate slowed to a crawl. “Told you what?”
“That it was your first time.”
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No, honey, not at all.” His lips on her shoulder added additional reassurance. “I would’ve been more careful. That’s all.”
“You were perfect. It was perfect.” Clutching his hand to her breast, she forced herself to ask the question. “How could you tell?”
“There was some blood on the condom.”
For some reason, hearing that embarrassed her, which was ironic in light of what had transpired between them. “I know I should’ve told you, but there’s no smooth way to introduce that into conversation.”
“As long as you’re okay, I am, too.” He tightened his hold on her, which was how Grace felt his cock against her backside.
“That didn’t take long,” she said with a chuckle.
“We shouldn’t do it again. You’ll be sore.”
She reached behind her to stroke him and felt him get even harder.
“Grace…”
She wasn’t ready for their perfect night to be over. “I want to do it again. I don’t care if I’m sore.”
“You’ll care tomorrow.”
“Are you saying no?” she asked, calling upon the most suggestive tone she could muster as she removed her hand and pressed her backside against his erection. It nestled snugly into her cleft.
“God, Grace, you’re hard to resist.” He withdrew from her long enough to roll on another condom. “Stay like this,” he said with his hand on her hip, arranging her the way he wanted her.
When he entered her from behind, she cried out from the surprise and sheer thrill of the new position.
“Does it hurt?”
“No,” she said, reaching for his hand
. “It feels amazing.”
Encouraged by her words, Evan moved them so she was on all fours and he was poised behind her. Old Grace would’ve been worried about him seeing her backside, but New Grace couldn’t do anything but focus on the exquisite feel of him deep inside her.
Then he reached around her, touching his fingers to her clitoris as he rocked into her, surging deeper with every new stroke.
Grace gripped the sheets, seeking to anchor herself as he took her apart one stroke at a time. She was beginning to fear her perfect night would haunt the rest of her imperfect life. Where would she ever find another man who could make her feel the way Evan did? Cherished and protected and worshiped and adored?
As he slowly stroked her to yet another mind-altering orgasm, Grace began to worry about how she’d ever let him go in the morning.
Chapter 14
After the upsetting call from Justin, Laura wouldn’t have expected to spend most of the evening laughing. Owen had talked her into sharing a large meat-lover’s pizza, arguing that the baby needed the protein. Laura suspected he needed the protein.
On the way back to the hotel, he dragged her into the arcade and bought a hundred tokens. He insisted they use every one of them before they could leave. Laura had never done more shooting or blowing things up or wild driving in her life. She also couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed until she cried. Blowing things up, she decided, was rather cathartic, especially with Owen egging her on.
Laura told herself it didn’t mean anything that he kept an arm slung loosely around her shoulders as they strolled through town on the way to the hotel. The more time she spent with him, the more confused her feelings toward him became. In the wake of what she’d just been through with her husband, the last thing she needed was to become involved with a man who had no permanent address and liked it that way. Even if he was one of the most appealing men she’d ever known.
But the thought of not hanging out with Owen anymore made her feel sad, and she was tired of being sad all the time. “You have a gig to get to,” she reminded him.
“I’ve got some time yet.”
“Not much.”
“You’re already sounding like a mom,” he said with laughter in his voice.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean…”
He stopped walking and turned to face her, keeping his arm around her. The new position brought them closer than they’d ever been.
Laura’s heart began to pound.
“I was teasing, Princess.”
“I know that.” Laura was mortified when her eyes filled. Damned hormones!
“Aw, honey, don’t…”
Laura wanted to kiss him more than she’d ever wanted anything. Alarmed by her reaction to him, she pulled free of his embrace and took off for the hotel, needing some space and distance before she did something she’d regret.
“Laura! Wait!” He ran to catch up with her.
She scrambled up the stairs to the porch. Her hands shook as her stupid key refused to work again.
His hands on her shoulders were nearly her undoing. Dropping her head to her chest, she struggled to regain her composure. She turned to him, planning to apologize for acting so crazy. Before she could find the words, he took her face in his hands, taking her breath away with the intense, hungry way he looked at her. And then his lips were on hers, soft and sweet and undemanding.
Laura put her hand on his chest, intending to push him away, but then he tipped his head ever so slightly, taking the kiss from slow burn to flame.
“I can’t,” she whispered against his lips. But, oh, how she wanted to! “Owen…”
“I’m sorry.” He leaned his forehead against hers and seemed to be collecting himself. “I couldn’t wait another minute to see if it would be as good as I thought.”
Laura knew she shouldn’t ask. “Was it?”
Laughing softly, he said, “What do you think?”
“We want different things out of life. I can’t set myself up for another disappointment. I just can’t.”
“I understand.”
“Do you? Really?”
“Yes, I really do.”
“My life is such a mess right now. I need to be focused on the baby and the hotel. You’ll be leaving soon, and… I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”
“I get it, Princess, but I’m not sorry I kissed you.”
“It was a good kiss.”
He brightened at that. “Yeah?”
She bit her bottom lip and forced herself to meet his gaze as she nodded. “But it can’t happen again.”
“I know.”
“Are we still friends?” she asked, feeling as if her very life depended on the answer to that one simple question.
“Of course we are. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
Relief flooded through her, making Laura weak in the knees. “Good.”
He reached around her to finagle the key and pushed open the door.
“How do you do that?”
“I told you—it’s all in the wrist.”
“Your wrist, maybe. It doesn’t like mine.”
“What’s not to like about this wrist?” He took her hand and gave it a gentle twist. “Like that.”
His brush of his thumb over the pulse point inside her wrist made her breathless and needy and afraid that her wavering self-control wouldn’t hold up, so she took back her hand and stepped away from him. “See you in the morning?”
“Yep.”
“Have a good night at work.”
“You’ll be okay here by yourself?”
“I’ll be fine. I’d better get used to it, right? Shane won’t be here until December,” she said of her brother, “so I’ll be here by myself for a few months after you leave in October.”
His usually sunny disposition turned stormy all of a sudden. “I don’t love the idea of you being here alone and pregnant during the off season.”
“You’re not changing your mind about offering me the job, are you?” He couldn’t possibly do that to her after she’d upended her entire life to move to the island.
“No, silly. The job is yours for as long as you want it.”
“How do you know I’ll be any good at it?”
“I have no doubt about that, or I never would’ve told my grandparents to hire you.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, but the jury is still out on whether an art history major has any business running a hotel.”
“I have full faith in you.”
“Thank you,” she said, humbled by his certainty. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”
“Go get some sleep, Princess. I don’t like those dark circles under your eyes. You’ve been burning the candle at both ends.”
Had anyone ever paid closer attention to her or cared so much about her? Other than her father and the mother she barely remembered, Laura couldn’t think of anyone. As she trudged upstairs, it occurred to her that she needed to be very careful where the adorable, sexy, thoughtful Owen Lawry was concerned.
Very careful, indeed.
Owen watched her climb the stairs, wishing he could go up with her and tuck her into bed. He wanted to stay with her until she fell asleep, until he was certain the demons that chased her during the day would leave her alone to let her get some much-needed rest.
From the first instant he’d seen her at the door earlier, he’d been able to tell by her defeated posture that the last ten days had taken a terrible toll. An aura of fragility surrounded her now that hadn’t been there when they’d first met after her cousin Janey’s wedding. The deep purple bruises under her eyes were a dead giveaway that she’d had some sleepless nights.
He wanted to go to the mainland, find her deadbeat husband and punch his lights out for putting her through such a horrible ordeal. Any guy who was lucky enough to have Laura McCarthy for his wife shouldn’t have any need for other women.
As Owen grabbed his guitar and a sweatshirt and headed out to his van, he thought
about the evening he’d spent with her. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had more fun, and they’d done nothing more than eat pizza and play video games.
She was easy to be with, fun, quick to laugh and lovely to look at with her blonde hair, soft blue eyes and flawless skin. And that kiss, man… He’d be thinking about that for a long time to come. Of course, he got why she couldn’t let anything happen between them. He’d made it perfectly clear that he loved his life exactly the way it was, living from one gig to the next with everything he owned fitting inside the old VW van that served as his home base when he was off-island.
He had no interest in shackling himself to any woman, especially one who was pregnant with another man’s child. That had “complication” written all over it. What would her husband do when he found out there was a baby? He’d already said he wouldn’t sign the divorce papers.
Owen needed to be in the middle of that mess like he needed a hole in the head. By the time he got to McCarthy’s marina and set up his microphone on the deck next to the Tiki Bar, he’d managed to talk himself out of wanting anything more with her. A fabulous few hours of fun and one amazing kiss weren’t enough to change an entire life.
Except even as he had that thought, the notion of leaving for the winter and not seeing her for months on end made him feel edgy and unsettled. Unwilling to further explore those disturbing feelings, he vowed to shake off the contemplative mood. She wasn’t his problem, and it would do him good to remember that.
As he bantered with the rowdy bar crowd and played the opening chords to “Please Come to Boston,” he felt sorry for the guy in the song who was pleading with his love to join him in the city of the moment by extolling the virtues of each new place his singing career took him. The guy was pathetic, and Owen would never be him. No way. He was footloose and fancy-free, and he planned to stay that way.
Linda McCarthy was on her second cup of coffee by the time her husband made an appearance downstairs. He’d showered, shaved and combed his wiry gray hair into submission. A closer look at his face indicated that he’d missed a few spots with the razor, not that she’d be foolish enough to mention that to him.
