by Peggy Jaeger
“I don’t know what tastes better,” Connor said, his voice hushed and raw with need. “Mangianno’s sauce, or…”
I gulped. “Or?”
Those clouds in his eyes turned stormy, dark, and wild. I could feel the tempest swirling within him, begging to be unleashed.
“You.”
In the time it took me to inhale, Connor stood and yanked me up with him. Right before his lips pressed against mine again, he said, “I don’t want to talk about business anymore, Regina.”
Before I could say, “Okay,” he captured my lips with his own.
So many times in my life circumstances and situations have overwhelmed me to the point where I simply couldn’t think rationally. All I could do was react. The terrifying moment the pregnancy-test stick read positive; the first time they put Angelina in my arms; the moment the doctor verified her diagnosis; at my nonna’s burial when my mother collapsed with grief at the loss of her beloved mother. All those times, my brain shut down and my instincts took over.
This was one of those times.
I couldn’t have put a rational thought together if I’d been promised ten million dollars, a trip around the world, or to see Angie one more time.
Connor claimed my mouth as his own. Simply put, he owned it. And me.
I don’t remember how we got there, but we were on my couch and I was straddling him. With my hands fisted in his hair and his wound around my back and waist, we devoured one another. Forget Mangianno’s and my mother’s amazing food. Connor Gilhooly tasted better than anything, anyone, could ever cook.
Way better. And that’s saying something because I’m Italian and we do love our food.
“I’ve been thinking about this for days,” he said, skimming kisses down my jaw. “Kissing you again, holding you. Just knowing I was going to see you tonight got me through the hellish workdays.”
I bit down on his earlobe, and a shudder sliced through him.
“I have, too,” I admitted.
“God, Regina…” He tilted his head to the side when I nuzzled his neck. “Do you have any idea how much I want you?”
Oh, I had a fairly good idea since I was sitting right on top of the proof.
And by proof, I mean…well, you know.
I pulled back and stared down at him. His perfect hair was sticking out at all angles, courtesy of my eager fingers. His lips were wet and swollen and flushed from our vigorous kissing, and his eyes, mio Dio, his eyes. The clouds had turned to smoldering smoke hot enough to singe, and believe me when I say I craved the burn.
“Probably as much as I want you,” I told him. I dragged my finger across his bottom lip.
The hands on my waist stilled. The smoke deepened, fire igniting his eyes.
“Regina?”
I bent and placed a soft kiss on his hard, firm mouth.
“Do you mean that?”
I nodded. “Make love to me, Connor. I want you to, so much.”
“You’re sure? I know you haven’t been with anyone since your husband, but are you sure? I don’t want to take advantage. If this is too much, too soon—”
I silenced him with another kiss. “You’re not, and it isn’t. I want to.” I shook my head and chuckled. “So much, so.”
Connor trailed a finger across my face. I eased back and slid off his lap to stand in front of him. Taking both of his hands, I tugged him up.
His brows pulled together as he stared down at me.
“This couch is as old as I am,” I said, walking backward, taking him with me. “And it’s noisy. Distractingly so.” I stopped and rose up on my toes to kiss his gorgeous mouth. “My bed is quieter,” I said, moving again. I gave him another kiss. A kiss that left no doubt about what I wanted.
Him.
Without another word, he bundled me up in his arms again and carried me into my bedroom. I’d left the bedside light on when I’d gotten dressed, so its soft glow gave him enough light to see where he was going.
When he bumped into the bed frame, he stopped and set me down on my feet, keeping his hands around me, keeping me close.
With my eyes locked on his, I began to undo my blouse. Connor stopped me after the first button slid open.
“Let me,” he said. “Please.”
I couldn’t help the grin that grew on my face. He met it with one if his own when I said, “Well, since you asked so politely.”
His fingers, long, strong, and firm, set about the task, his knuckles brushing against my skin with each easy slide of a button from its hold. When the last fastening was undone, he splayed the sides open and rested his hands on my waist.
I’d had the good luck—and not sexy forethought—to don a red lace bra and matching panties when I’d dressed earlier. The way Connor’s pupils dilated, obliterating all the color in his eyes, when he looked down to see what was under my blouse told me he approved of the choice.
He ran the tip of his finger along the line of my breast where it rested against the top of the lace and then bent to skim his warm lips across the area he’d touched. The kiss made my nipples shoot to two hard points. They pressed against the soft material, silently begging for release. Connor answered their plea. Before I could take a breath, he slid open my bra and cupped both my now-freed breasts in his hands.
He snaked a look at me, grinned like il Diavolo himself, and then sucked one of my nipples between his teeth.
I think I might have blacked out for a moment when a shock of pleasure like none I’d ever felt jolted through me in one blazing blast. The teasing sound of Connor’s deep chuckle brought me back to consciousness. When he moved to give the same treatment to my other breast, I arched my back and moaned so loud, I could feel my cheeks heat with embarrassment. I wasn’t a groaner in the bedroom. At least I’d never been one with Johnny.
All bets were off with this man.
My knees started to clang together with each nip and suck of my distended nipples in his mouth. Shards of bright light burst behind my eyes as each tiny tug shredded nerve endings all the way straight down to the soles of my feet. I fisted Connor’s hair between my fingers in a feeble attempt to remain upright.
The overwhelming need to feel his skin against mine had me tugging his shirt from the waistband of his pants and slipping my fingers under the material. How a man who worked at a desk everyday could have such a well-defined six-pack was beyond me. My hands snaked up and across the solid, well-honed trench and groove of muscles, passed rock-hard pecs, his own nipples standing upright at attention as I skimmed over them. In a move only guys can do effectively, Connor yanked his shirt over his head with one hand and just like that we were skin to skin, exactly what I wanted.
The feel of him against my hands had been impressive, but bearing witness to all his glorious flesh was intoxicating.
“You’re beautiful,” I told him while my hands stroked and caressed.
“You’re the one who’s beautiful, Regina,” he whispered against my neck as he pulled me up into a hug. His breath released on a long, full sigh.
I pressed myself flat against him and wound my arms up and around his neck. Emotions rocked through me, tears unexpectedly burning the corners of my eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, pulling back to look down at me.
“N-nothing. I’m just…” I shrugged.
“Shh.” He kissed my temple, my ear, my jaw. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”
“No, it’s not that.” I peered up at him through the tears. “I am. I want to. I just…I’ve never…” I stopped, rolled my eyes, then took a breath. “I’m getting stuck in my head. Overthinking. It’s been a long time since I’ve done this. I feel like I don’t know what to do, how to do it. I don’t want to ruin this.”
His face cleared, and that wicked grin that made my girly bits quiver bloomed across his face once again.
“Not gonna happen,” he said. “Even if we stop right now nothing is going to be ruined between us. Do
you believe me?”
The truth was written in his eyes.
He swiped his thumbs across my cheeks, drying the trickle of my tears. The gesture was so gentle, so caring, I felt a little foolish for being so worried.
I nodded.
“Good.” He kissed my nose. “Now, where were we? Oh, that’s right.” He slid his hand down my back, under the waistband of my skirt, and cupped my butt. A quick tug and I was flat against him again. “Right here.”
In between kisses that almost drove me off the edge of reason, we shucked the rest of our clothes. I tugged the blanket back, and then Connor lifted and placed me down on the bed, settling himself next to me.
His fingers flittered along my breasts, down my tummy, to the top of my thighs as we kissed.
“I need to find something out,” he said suddenly, shifting back on his knees with his hands resting on his thighs. His powerful, naked thighs.
I rose up on my elbows. “What?”
“Something I’ve been wondering about.”
He slid his hands between my legs, separating them and then clutched a hand under each one. In this position, I was completely exposed and opened to his view. Feeling self-conscious and vulnerable, I tried to cover myself with my hands.
“Don’t do that,” he commanded softly. “Don’t hide yourself from me, Regina. Ever.”
A flush sluiced down my entire body. Connor sucked in a breath.
“Jesus. You really are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen,” he said. Right then and there, my entire body relaxed.
I swallowed the lump in the back of my throat. “What is it you’ve been wondering?”
He cocked his head to one side, narrowed his eyes a hair. “If you taste as good as the things you bake.”
Before I could ask what he meant, he showed me.
Gesu, did he show me.
His head disappeared between the thighs he held open in his hands. Heat—penetrating, scorching heat—exploded through me as his tongue dove straight into my core, pulled out, then did it again.
And again.
I consider myself knowledgeable about my body, how it works, what causes it pain or gives it pleasure. I’ve been married, after all. I’ve had sex, even delivered a baby.
The reality of my actual knowledge was so far removed from what I thought I knew, I would have laughed out loud at my ignorance if I hadn’t been in the throes of a sexual experience that was by far the best thing that had ever happened to me. Or my body.
Connor’s tongue took me on a wild and wicked ride—a ride I never wanted to get off. The man knew what he was doing when it came to giving a woman pleasure, that was for sure. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, that I couldn’t feel anything more delightful or amazing, he slipped two fingers inside me. How it’s possible I didn’t burst into flames on the spot, I haven’t a clue. Every nerve fiber in my body ignited, exploded, then fired again while he pumped his fingers in and out of me. My back arched, lifting my hips straight off the bed as I came, his name screaming from my lips. I’d think later about being mortified about how loud I was.
Connor stayed with me, riding the wave of the orgasm until I drifted back down to Earth. It took a few minutes for my breathing to calm to where it didn’t sound like I’d just sprinted up a desert mountain in the middle of summer.
When I was sure I was alive, my eyes drifted open to find him reclining next to me, on his side with his bent elbow holding up his head, a cocky look of self-satisfied pride on his face.
I really couldn’t blame him for the hubris.
“Um, wow,” I said.
Lame response, thy name is Regina.
Connor grinned and kissed the tip of my nose. “You do,” he told me, replacing his lips with his index finger.
Who knew postcoital confusion was a real thing? I didn’t have the energy to ask, but he must have recognized bewilderment on my face, because he clarified for me.
“You taste better than anything you bake.”
This time the heat that colored my skin was pure gratification, not embarrassment. A burst of energy exploded within me. I shot up, pushed him flat on his back, and straddled him.
My hands pinioned his shoulders down on the bed, but I knew if he wanted to he could have me back on my butt with one flick of his wrists. “You’re pretty proud of yourself right now, aren’t you?”
His smirk made my own lips pull up at the corners.
“You did scream my name,” he said, with a laugh tripping through him.
“Let’s see if I can make you scream mine.”
Where this liberated, sexually free being materialized from, I have no idea. I’d like to think she was always inside me, lurking, waiting for the right time, the right man, to make her presence known. Wherever she’d come from, the power I felt when Connor’s face changed from playful to sinfully expectant with my words, made me determined to let her lead the way.
I dragged my tongue across my lips to wet them. Between my legs, Connor grew harder and longer.
Starting at that little notch at his neck, I licked him, slowly, all the way down to his flat belly, stopping to suckle his puckered nipples as he’d done to mine, across the troughs and swells of his abdominal muscles and hipbones. With each new place I touched, I moved my body downward. His stomach went concave, all the air whooshing from his lungs when I nuzzled the happy trail of inky black hair down to the apex of his thighs.
I flicked at quick look up at him to see his neck working feverishly while his gaze was glued to me.
“Let’s see how good you taste,” I whispered, dropping a kiss on his swollen tip. His gasp made me smile. “Of course, I do have a bit of a sweet tooth, being a baker and all.”
Whatever he’d been about to say in response came out as a guttural groan when I took him—all the delicious length of him—into my mouth. He flung his head back, his neck bobbing as he swallowed. I scratched my fingernails along his base, rewarded when his hips jumped nearly as high as mine had.
As he had to me, I pleasured him with my hand and mouth.
“Stop,” he commanded on a gasp as he lifted his torso from the pillow.
I obeyed but kept my hand fisted around him.
“You keep doing that”—he placed his hand over mine—“and I won’t last much longer. I want to come inside you. I want to feel you against me.”
He shifted our positions with impressive finesse and made a cradle for himself between my legs, his elbows bracketing my arms. With his forehead pressed against mine, he blew out a breath. “Give me a sec,” he said, his eyes closed.
I pulled his head down to rest against my shoulder. His breathing was rapid and jagged, and I was the cause. There was something so incredibly powerful about that.
After a moment, he rose up on his arms and reclaimed my lips in a kiss I felt right down to my toes. Hunger quickly mated with desire, driving us both to the very brink.
I needed this man inside me. Now. I couldn’t wait a moment more. I can’t remember clearly, but I think I begged him. If I did, I’m not ashamed of it.
He slid from the bed with a chuckle and grabbed his wallet from his pants.
All those years ago when I’d climbed into the backseat of Johnny’s car, I’d never even thought of protection.
Fifteen years and a lifetime later and the thought hadn’t crossed my mind again. Thank God Connor was more mature and responsible than Johnny—or I—had been.
As soon as he rolled the condom on, he settled back on top of me.
Effortlessly, as if he’d done it a thousand times before, he slowly slid into me. And just as effortlessly, as if I’d held him a thousand times before in just this way, my body stretched and pulled him in.
Words were no longer necessary. Our bodies took over, knowing instinctively what to do.
When he couldn’t hold back any longer, Connor came in one long, hard thrust, my name breaking from his lips, as I joined him with the fall.
****
; It had been a long time since I’d woken up with a body pressed next to mine.
And, holy hotness, what a body.
Connor’s front was spooned against my back, his right hand lying across my waist, keeping me securely against him. After making love two more times, we’d finally drifted off long after midnight. This time Connor got to sleep in my bed, and not on the uncomfortable couch.
As if sensing I was awake, he nuzzled my neck, and I cuddled even closer to him, settling my butt against one very impressive erection.
His groan put a smile on my face. “I need to get downstairs, but I really don’t want to move,” I told him. “Ever.”
His deep, raspy chuckle had me repeating myself.
“Ever.”
His hand slid from my waist down to my thighs, and he cupped me, slipping one finger between the folds of my sex.
On a sigh, I closed my eyes and whispered, “Ever, ever.”
Ten minutes later, we were standing in my shower.
Best shower ever.
“Do you have any plans for tonight?” he asked when he was redressed in yesterday’s clothes. His hair was still damp, and he’d finger-combed it back from his face. I’d put on my standard baking uniform of T-shirt and sweats, and we were standing in my kitchen while the kettle came to a boil.
“I’ve got a hot date with my account book and figuring out quarterly taxes. Why?”
He tugged me into his arms.
“Because I want to see you.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “Take you out on a real date. Dinner. Maybe a movie. Think you can put off doing your taxes for the night?”
“I’d like to put off doing them for the rest of my life,” I said, resting my head against his chest.
The deep sound of his laugh reverberated through me.
“Dinner and a movie sounds like Heaven. I can’t remember the last time I was in an actual movie theater.”
“Good. It’s a date then.”
He pulled back and kissed me quick on the lips. His breath fanned out over me in a long, warm sigh that made me consider calling in sick and spending the day in bed.
