by Lavinia Kent
The hall was dim, but light from the street shone through the windows. He was even more perfect than she’d imagined—chiseled, defined muscles and only the lightest sprinkling of hair. It was impossible to resist the urge to reach out and stroke. His beard had been soft, this was even softer.
He let her hand linger for a moment and then stepped back, his eyes sweeping down her. “I don’t think I can handle slow. Do you care about that dress?”Before she even had a chance to form a thought, much less speak, he answered himself. “Of course you do.”
And then he was pressed against her again. His mouth on hers. His hands slipping down her back, taking the zipper with them.
She started to shrug the dress off, but he was there first, sliding it down her arms. It caught briefly on her breasts, but he was impatient. A slight yank and it slipped over her hips and fell to the floor.
He pulled back, stared down at her. “Fuck. I should stop and appreciate this, but…I may ask you to put your bra back on later.”
And then he was against her, lips to lips. Chest to chest, the lace of her bra abrading her nipples. His hands slipped under her ass cheeks, separating them as he settled her against him, placed her right where she needed to be, her clit rubbing against his fly, his cock pushing out, toward her.
He lifted her, lowered her, rubbing her tight against him. His hips thrust forward, pushing her hard into the wall, her head bumping the mirror. She didn’t care. All that mattered was the feel of him, the smell of him, the taste of him.
More. More.
She sucked on his tongue, drawing it deep into her mouth. He pulled it back. She tightened her legs behind him, digging her heels into his legs.
And then his lips were gone from hers.
And her bra was also gone. It flashed through her mind that she had no idea how he’d done that, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the feeling as he bent and drew her nipple into his mouth, sucking hard, his teeth scraping over her sensitive skin.
She was panting now and coated with sweat, her every breath filled with him, his scent and taste.
One of his hands slid forward, tracing the ribbon of her undies. His fingers wrapped about the ribbon, pulled tight, released, tight again.
The silk rubbed across her, sliding between her folds. An embarrassing loud moan left her lips.
“Damn, I love women’s clothes,” he whispered against her breast.
“That sounds kinky,” she gasped back, as he continued the pull and release. She was going to come if she wasn’t careful, and he hadn’t even actually…
And then he was. His fingers found her without apparent effort, brushing soft circles about her clit, even as his mouth opened on her breast, pulling it deep and then deeper.
She was all fire, all need, all want, burning from the inside.
One of his fingers slipped into her, bruising her depths, finding each sensitive spot.
It shouldn’t have been this easy. It was never this easy.
In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.
She tightened her inner muscles, trying to hold him where she needed him, even as she needed the stroke, needed the movement.
Damn. Why hadn’t she gone for his belt? She needed him in her. Needed him now.
Now. Now. Now.
She could hold it. She tried to relax, tried to prolong the pleasure, but it was hopeless.
She felt the first waves, felt herself beginning the climb—or was it the fall?
And then he was in her, filling her exactly as she needed, as she dreamed of, as…
Fire.
Light.
Pleasure. God, what pleasure.
Did she scream? She didn’t even know.
Wave after wave swept through her, her whole body tightening about him, until there was nothing but pleasure, pleasure so intense it hurt. Blackness flashed about the edge of her vision, but she held on to the light.
She cried again—and this time she knew it was her, before every muscle in her body went limp, relaxed. Her eyes swept closed.
And then she felt him, felt the grind, the intensity, the strain. He was there.
He screamed, not her name, but a primal scream, full of intensity and passion.
And then they were both on the floor, lying on the cool, hard wood of the hallway, half-dressed and spent. She felt as if she might melt into the floor and land in the condo below. She wasn’t sure she’d ever felt so relaxed, so complete, so perfect.
And then a long, wet tongue ran up her ankle.
* * *
—
There were no thoughts. As a child he’d wondered what heaven was like and now he knew. Heaven was lying on the floor with his head between Veronica’s breasts, listening to her heart, smelling the combination of sex and the sweet, smoky scent of her perfume. Heaven was knowing he was never going to move again. Although he rolled away slightly, pulling himself from her. By some magic he’d managed to put on the condom. He wasn’t going to risk a leak now.
She protested as he moved, but then purred like a cat as he settled back against her, if not in her.
This truly, truly was heaven—although perhaps not the one the priests had imagined.
“Damn you.” Veronica’s curse caught him.
He rose up, startled. What the fuck had he done wrong? He’d barely moved and certainly not more than was strictly necessary.
“Damn you, Baxter,” her voice repeated.
He laughed. There was nothing else to do. Raising his head, he stared down the dim hallway at the large dog. “At least he waited until now.”
Veronica pushed herself up from the floor. He instantly missed the heat of her body. “There is that. Normally I have to drag him out the door at this time of night. If I don’t, he wakes me at two A.M.”
Brian started to rise. “Bathroom?”
She nodded to a closed door at the end of the hall.
He hurried down the hall, trying to look graceful with his pants only partway up.
When he returned, the hall was empty except for Baxter, who stood at the door, leash on, looking mournful. Granted, he always looked mournful. Brian picked up the leash, glancing about.
Where had she gone?
As if in answer, he heard steps and turned to see her coming down the stairs, dressed in Keds and jeans, her red bra showing through the white T-shirt.
“I guess that’s a little more appropriate for walking your boy,” he said, trying to fill the sudden awkwardness.
She smiled, yet did not quite meet his eyes, but neither did she start the “I don’t normally do this” conversation he found so common in these moments.
Reaching the floor, she held out her hand for the leash.
“I’m happy to hold him,” he said.
A slight sigh. “I thought it would be time for you to head home. You don’t want your aunt to worry.”
“She’s long past worrying about me—and if she’s home then she’s probably already climbed into bed,” he replied, trying to keep his voice light. “And what type of gentleman would I be if I let you walk him alone in the middle of the night?”
It took a moment for her to reply. “I frequently walk him late at night by myself. It’s a safe area—which I’m sure you know. I’ve never been bothered.”
“There’s always a first. You don’t want me worrying about you, do you?”
Now her eyes did lift and meet his—and boy did they tell a story. No, she didn’t want him to worry, but she also really wanted him to leave.
Hell, he hadn’t felt so dismissed since the time he woke up to catch a woman actually checking his name off a list on her phone. She’d been determined to sleep with every single goalie in the NHL.
He swallowed. “I truly would feel better if you let me walk with you. I’d never forgive myself if anything hap
pened, even if you only stubbed your toe. I promise I’ll leave right afterward—or I can walk Baxter by myself and then lock the door behind me.”
There was a brief flash of consternation. “No, we can do it together. Please don’t take this the wrong way, be upset that I don’t want an overnight guest. Saturdays are my day to rest from the world. I like to hide out.”
And she couldn’t hide out with him? He had to confess he’d imagined them making breakfast together and then taking a long walk on the beach before returning to heat up the sheets a few more times. He hated feeling kicked out of bed, particularly when they hadn’t even made it there. “I understand. I can be the same way. You’re sure you don’t want me to walk Baxter? I don’t imagine he’s up to going far at this time of night. We might not even make it out of your yard.”
A genuine smile touched the edge of her lips. “You’d be surprised. You should know by now, Baxter is rarely cooperative. Normally he wants as short a walk as possible, but anytime I’m in a hurry or deeply tired, he changes and thinks he can go for miles. He’ll wake me up because he needs to go out and then dawdles forever.”
That was good—not that Baxter could be a bum, but that she was capable of normal conversation. “Okay, we’ll do it together.”
She nodded and, taking Baxter’s lead from him, opened the door and headed out.
There was one minute of graceful silence, followed by five of awkward quiet. He knew he should say something, but what? “Is your schedule still the same next week?”
Quiet, then, “I think so. I may have to stay late a few nights, but I also have a bunch of things to wrap up here. I’ll let you know as soon as I’m sure.”
More silence. Fuck. He knew he should say something, but what? It was fun? It was great? Let’s do it again? Right now? I think I might really like you?
And where had that last one come from? He didn’t know her well enough to really like her. She was nice and more than attractive, but they’d hardly talked enough for him to have any type of feelings. They had shared a few intimate minutes on the beach, but…No, it had been chemistry from the start and it was chemistry now. He wanted a repeat performance. Well, you never won if you didn’t try. “You know, Aunt Mols will have been in bed for a while. She doesn’t care when I come home, and she sleeps like a log, so I won’t wake her. I could come in again once Baxter finishes his business. And I still don’t need to spend the full night. I can leave you your Saturday.”
She didn’t look at him, yet something in her posture made him think she was actually considering it, then, “No. I appreciate the offer, but I honestly think it’s best that you leave. I’m fine if you walk me home, but I’m going in—by myself.”
“I’m sorry if I misunderstood what you wanted tonight. I hope I didn’t push you in any way.”
She stopped walking. Baxter instantly lay on the ground. “No. I’m sorry if I’m making you feel that what happened wasn’t what I wanted. It was exactly what I wanted. Okay, I might have wanted another five minutes of cuddle, but that’s it. I wanted sex. I wanted sex with you. I think you wanted to have sex with me. We did that. Now I want to go to sleep.”
Ouch. “So, no replay?”
She smiled. “No, no replay. If Baxter hadn’t interrupted—and you recover quickly—it might have been possible, but now…no.”
Why couldn’t he give up? “So, no second date? I can take you to dinner, or make you dinner…or let you be dinner?”
Another slight pause. She’d liked that last one. “Tonight was perfect, but I hadn’t planned on more. I hope that won’t make things awkward between us.”
“No,” he lied. How the hell could it not make things awkward between them? “I can go back to being your dog walker and we can pretend it never happened.”
“We don’t need to pretend. I just don’t want to discuss it. We both got what we wanted.”
There was some truth to that, but it was so much more complicated, and he was sure that she knew that. “Fine.”
“Good.”
They walked in silence.
Baxter finally accomplished what needed to be done and they turned and headed back.
He paused at her walkway. Part of him wanted to try one more time, but he sensed it would be foolish and he didn’t want to be a man who couldn’t take no for an answer—despite the fact that she was as hot in jeans and sneakers as in her heels. He was tempted to walk her all the way to her door so he could watch her ass as she went up the stairs before him.
She stopped beside him. “I did have a wonderful evening. But I don’t have time in my life for more.”
Damn. He’d probably said almost those same words to women many times in the past few years. At least she hadn’t said, It’s not you, it’s me. “I understand. It’s just that I’ve never been a one-night type of guy.”
“I’m not normally either, but I think it’s best this way. This is where I live. I don’t want people talking. I can only hope that nobody noticed us tonight.”
Hold it. She didn’t want people to see them together. He suddenly remembered her directing him outside without actually speaking to him. Did she not want to be seen with him? The thought caught him so off guard that he didn’t react when she turned and walked up the stairs into the house.
She reached the top of the stairs and went in without looking back. Well, at least that solved having to decide if he should try to kiss her or even give her a light hug.
He turned and headed toward Aunt Mols’s, unsure what he was feeling.
Chapter 5
Brian was not what she should want in a man, at least not in Forbidden Cove. Veronica told herself that over and over again as she pulled herself out of bed in the morning to walk Baxter. He lived with his aunt. Maybe slightly better than living with your mother, but not much. He dreamed of a house on the water but didn’t seem to be doing anything to make it happen. Dog walking? She hated people who thought things would just happen magically. Did he have any idea how much those houses cost? Hell, she couldn’t afford one, and she made good money—great money even. What exactly did he think he was going to do to earn a multimillion-dollar home? He even drove his aunt’s car. What kind of man lived out here and didn’t have a car? It would be one thing in the city. She knew plenty of people without cars there, but here? In Forbidden Cove?
It wasn’t that he was a dog walker that was the problem, it was that he seemed to lack all ambition, despite his talk of being competitive.
No, he was not what she wanted. Not at all.
Only…
Only…
Only, she wasn’t talking about marriage. She was talking about some fun. That was what last night had been about. He was perfect for fun. Her mind filled with that first soft kiss. Her lips were still tingling. How had something so soft, so quick, so barely there, done so much? Why was she still tasting him? Feeling his mouth pressed against her own.
His body against her own. That was something she’d been trying to put out of her mind. It had been fast. It had been furious, intense, almost brutal. It was not the sort of encounter she normally had. So why did she want more, crave more? Why did she wish he were here now?
Baxter stopped abruptly, pulling her from her thoughts.
“Really?” she said, looking down at him as he settled into a comfortable sit. “We aren’t even two blocks from home and you’re telling me you’ve had enough? And you haven’t done everything that needs to happen. You insisted I get up hours before I was ready and now you aren’t going to do anything?”
Baxter simply stared up at her, unmoving.
“Males. You are all impossible.”
Only Brian hadn’t been impossible. He’d done everything that she asked and then some. She’d seen the hurt in his eyes when she sent him home. She’d pretended it was simply because he’d wanted more sex, but she knew better.
&
nbsp; So why had she sent him home? She could certainly have used some more sex herself. She wasn’t normally a one-and-done woman—and she’d been sure he’d be able to go all night.
So what if she’d never had anybody spend the night at her place in Forbidden Cove? Even with Greg, they’d always gone to his place in the city.
In the city she could have hooked up with Brian just for fun, but here, where she knew everybody and everybody knew her, it was somehow different. If she went out with him people would think they were dating.
Damn. It shouldn’t matter, but somehow it did.
She gave a little pull on Baxter’s leash. He only looked at her, all big brown eyes—and heavy dog.
“I’m not carrying you. You weigh far too much and you need more exercise. I know very well that you are capable of walking much farther.”
Baxter didn’t budge.
“Come on.” She pulled on the leash again. “I’m not going to drag you either.”
Still no movement.
“I can’t believe I’m arguing with a dog.” She walked around him and headed back home.
Baxter instantly came to his feet and started to trot behind her—stopping only to do what must be done.
She resisted the urge to swear. It was bad enough arguing with the dog, acting like he’d understand her curses was a step too far.
At least she hadn’t expected him to solve her mixed feelings about Brian.
* * *
—
Brian stomped in the door and turned the Keurig on. He didn’t actually like pod coffee, but sometimes it was the only thing that made sense. Waiting for the machine to heat, he walked to the window and stared out. He should head back to bed, he’d hardly slept at all last night—but he’d never been good at sleeping during the day.
And he did have a lot to do. In the past he’d been a decent student, but it was so much harder studying on his own. He glanced at his laptop. Maybe he should concentrate on his online classes. It was amazing how much math a man could forget in such a short time. And he had to admit that while he’d completed college, gotten his degree, he hadn’t taken the most difficult classes. Which is why he was now forcing his way through calculus—again.
