Page 29

His hands tightened in my hair, and he pushed my face away. I wiped my mouth, and looked up into his stark, rigid face. “Something wrong?”

“I need to fuck you,” he said.

A shiver of delight went through me. I stroked his balls with my fingertips, just to savor the pleasure that racked his big body. “Do you have a condom?”

He shook his head. “I do not. I don’t bring women here. Haven’t for years.”

I pondered that potential disaster for a moment, still squeezing and stroking him, and held up my hand. He took it, hoisting me to my feet.

“Well,” I said. “This is the thing. I actually have a contraceptive implant. It dates back from my last relationship, which blew up on me eight months ago. I kept meaning to get it removed, but I’m always so busy, I just put it off.

So, ah … I’m covered. And I’ve been tested for everything a couple months ago. I’m all clean.”

His eyes flashed. “Whoa,” he murmured. “I’ve had clear blood tests, too. So if that’s what you want, then hell, yeah. There’s nothing I’d love better.”

I turned, aiming for a hip-swaying sashay toward the bed, but it was all I could do to stay on my feet, I was so wobbly.

I started to circle the bed, but stopped short, gazing at that expanse of quilt.

A real femme fatale would not waste such an obvious chance to strike a hot pose for him, so I clambered up onto the bed on my hands and knees, arching my back.

Sexy, sinuous, that was the vibe. But I didn’t have a chance to let the moment develop, because the effect on him was instantaneous.

The bed squeaked and swayed, and there he was—arched over me, his hot body covering my back, his cock swinging and bobbing against my inner thigh.

I tried to turn, but he held me in place, trapped beneath him. My breath came fast and nervous through my open mouth. I’d miscalculated my comfort zone.

Not his fault. I’d presented my ass to him; he could hardly be blamed for taking me up on it. No. I was not going to spoil this, for him or for me. I was not chickening out. I wanted this more than I’d ever wanted anything. And I would ... get ... through it.

I braced for it, but there was no invasive shove.

Just his enormous warmth poised over me, warming me, waiting.

His hot, soft lips caressing my nape, my spine.

His hands moved between my legs, stroking my clit.

Slow, lazy, circling strokes, petting me expertly until I squirmed against his hand.

Delving inside to spread my juice around.

Working me, squeezing me, stroking and thrusting …

until I collapsed into waves of shuddering pleasure.

When he finally nudged his cock inside me, I was so primed and desperate, I rocked backward to take him in.

He gripped my hips with a low, admonishing murmur, kissed my shoulder blades, licked my spine.

My shivering inner flesh clenched around his thick shaft.

Every part of me that he touched went slick and tingling, melting with yearning.

I squirmed against him, clawing my way closer to that shining prize that beckoned in my mind, crying out as he slid so deep inside . ..

I disintegrated into wrenching pulsations of pleasure once again.

When I was fully conscious again, his breath was hot and rhythmic against my back. He set his teeth against my shoulder and licked off the sheen of my sweat.

“Ah, God,” he muttered hoarsely. “So good. Do that again. Please.”

“Anytime you want,” I told him shakily. “I can hardly stop it, when you touch me.”

He made a strangled sound, gripped her hips, and thrust harder.

I yielded to the wild, frenetic momentum, clutching the quilt, my face shoved in the pillow.

Low cries jerked out of my throat at each slick, driving stroke and swivel of his thick shaft.

He was pounding me into a creamy froth, and I didn’t shut down or go cold.

My body had resculpted itself to cherish every thick, throbbing inch of him.

After his own pleasure finally jolted through him, we lay together in a dream measured by bursts of birdsong and the flickering shadows of clouds from the window.

He was heavy, but the pressure felt so good.

I loved the deep, wonderful heat of him.

So what if my lungs could only expand to ten percent of their capacity?

Air, shmair. Who needed air, after sex like that?

But after a moment, he rolled onto his side, still keeping me held tight and close against him. Still inside.

My phone rang, and I felt his body tense. I leaned down, groped for the phone, and checked the display. Peter again. Hah. Later for him. I dropped it back into my purse, letting it ring on unanswered.

I turned back to him, enjoying his startled expression.

A wondering smile dawned on his face. “Wow,” he said. “That must’ve cost you.”

“I would turn it off completely if it weren’t for my sisters,” I told him. “With everything that’s going on, I don’t want to risk being out of touch with them.”

“Give them my landline number,” he suggested.

“Landline? How quaint and antique,” I murmured. “It really suits your retro analog personality.”

His smile widened to a gorgeous grin. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But for real. They should have my number. And I want both of theirs.”

“Thanks,” I said demurely. “We’ll organize that. For sure.”

He nuzzled the nape of my neck. “Mmm. You smell like something good to eat.”

“Vanilla sandalwood essential oil,” I told him.

“Yeah? It’s wicked good. Drives me crazy.”

I arched like a cat. The way he responded to me made me feel like a dangerous, powerful temptress. I liked it. “So, Liam. Are you done being mad at me?”

He looked thoughtful. “I really don’t know yet,” he said. “I mean, I was pretty upset. Profoundly devastated, in fact. I think we’ll have to have a whole lot more sex before I work all the poison out of my system.”

I snorted with laughter. “Okay. I’m down for that,” I said cheerfully. “Really. Take your own sweet time getting over it.”

I feasted my eyes on his naked body. The pattern of dark chest hair arrowing down to his groin, the powerful muscles of his legs and thighs, his heavy arousal, rising proudly out of a thatch of thick black hair. Mmm. Already. Wow.

“Are you hungry?” he asked. “I could fix you something to eat.”

“I’m not hungry right now,” I said. “Not for food, anyway.”

I caressed his thick cock, the stiff, swollen heat of it. He grasped my hand and pulled it to his face, kissing my knuckles before turning it over to kiss my palm and each individual finger. Then he pressed the back of my hand to his cheek.

I reached out for him, drawing him close, and he rolled onto me again, thrusting inside in a seamless slide of such sweet perfection that tears sprang to my eyes.

We clung, rocking, for what could have been hours. I lost all sense of time. The sunlit room was a magical sphere. Suspended dust motes floated lazily above us. The breeze rustled the trees. Wind chimes tinkled and clanked, sweet, hollow sounds

Liam’s face filled my mind, overflowed my world.

His weight, deliciously sensual between my legs, pressed me down into the bed.

I rocked in that slow, lazy pump and swirl.

I could have looked into those gorgeous, astonishing eyes forever, but eventually we started moving faster, kissing wildly.

Every place his body touched mine was like a kiss, specific, hot, deliberate.

I lifted myself, grasping for that shining perfection that beckoned and teased …

And without warning, it burst upon me. Liam cried out at the same moment.

We soared together, fused.

We took our time drifting back. Liam untangled himself, stroking her back. “Was everything all right for you?”

I laughed. “It was great, and you know it.”

He smiled. “I don’t want to overdo it. I could do this all night and all the next day.”

“You don’t say.” I laid my head on his broad, solid chest, practically purring as his arms closed possessively around me. “You’re amazing,” I told him. “I’ve never been able to ... well. Just amazing.”

He lifted his head, eyes sharpening. “Never been able to what?”

I tried to gloss over the moment with a careless laugh. “I don’t usually have this good a time in bed, that’s all. I tend to shut down. With you, it doesn’t happen.”

He ran his fingers through my hair. “Why do you shut down?”

“Who cares, since it doesn’t happen with you? I’d much rather think about this amazing present moment, and not dwell on my stupid, tedious?—”

“Why do you shut down? Did something happen?”

I sighed. Shit. It would seem that Liam would not be guided around this particular crack in the pavement.

“I’ve got a theory,” I offered reluctantly.

“Let’s hear it.”

I gathered my composure, hoping very hard that talking about my hang-ups would not invoke them back into the bed with me and Liam. “Well. I told you about being in foster care, remember?”

“Yeah, you mentioned that.”

“It was the last home I was in before Lucia. I was thirteen. A nice family in Larchmont. I felt lucky. It was better than a lot of places I’d been. Until their son came back from his freshman year at college. Big guy. Body odor problem.”

Liam’s face contracted. “Oh, Christ.”

“Oh, don’t get scared,” I said quickly. “He never actually ... well. Lucky for me, there were always lots of people around, and I shared a room with two other girls. But he took every chance he got to pin me in dark corners and rub his erection against me. That was usually all he had time for.”

Liam’s hands were clenched. “What a piece of shit.”

“He was working up to it, though,” I went on. “It was only a matter of time. And he was his mother’s firstborn darling. She was never going to believe me over him. Which was really sad. She was a nice lady. Deluded, but nice. I liked her.”

I stared up at the ceiling, twiddling with the quilt, lost in unpleasant memories.

Liam nuzzled her with his lips. “And? So?”