by Jo McNally
There was a momentary separation when he flipped her onto her back on the sofa, but he claimed her mouth again immediately. On top and in charge, his hands made quick work of her shorts and panties, working them down her legs until she could kick free of them. Somewhere along the way, he’d shed his clothes, too, including the now-buttonless shirt. His hands slid up under her top and cupped her breasts over her bra. She reached for him, eager for him to make love to her. To be inside of her. But he’d stopped moving. Her eyes flew open to meet his somber ones.
“I want you so bad right now my brain feels like it’s melting, but I need to know we’re on the same page. Before we go any further, are you sure this what you want?”
Her only answer was a groan that sounded a little like well...duh as she lifted her head to try to kiss him again. But he pulled up and away.
“Not another move until I hear words, Lucy. Tell me what you want. Not just what your body wants...you. Are we doing a heavy make-out session here, or...?”
Was he for real right now? She finally managed to form words, and they were tinged with laughter.
“We’re both basically naked, so I think we passed making out a while ago.”
His erection was heavy and warm on her abdomen, and she felt him twitch against her skin.
“Tell me what you want.” His voice was like sandpaper across her heart, rough and exciting. But tender, too. He was for real with his question. He wanted to know her thoughts. Her needs. Just like that devil-guy in her favorite TV show, he wanted to know what she most desired.
And right there, lying on her back on a tufted sofa in a house cloaked in the dark of a blackout...she finally knew what she wanted. And her doubts had not only shut up—they’d vanished completely.
“What I want,” she started, her voice low but steady, “is for you to make love to me, Owen Cooper.” She smiled when his erection quivered on her belly again. “I want you to remind me why I ever climbed into the back of a Ford Bronco with you in the first place. You made me feel like a goddess that night. Make me feel that way again.”
His head dropped and he kissed her hard and fast before speaking.
“And tomorrow?”
The question should have made her pause. It would have at any other time. But not tonight.
“Tomorrow is tomorrow’s problem. You asked what I wanted, and I told you. Even if we decide there’s not a lot of tomorrows for us, right now I want you to screw me into oblivion for one night.” She kissed his jaw, tracing her tongue along the strong line of it and on down his neck. His whole body practically convulsed, making her feel powerful. Desired. And sassy. “Take it or leave it, big guy.”
“Are you kidding? Hell yeah, I’ll take it. Your wish is my command, madam.” He took her hands from his shoulders and pressed them over her head on the sofa, rocking against her as he slowly lowered himself to settle between her legs, teasing her with a press against her wetness. He kissed her lips, slow and soft this time.
“Condom?”
She winced. They’d stopped using condoms years ago, secure in their commitment to each other. “I hate to say it, but...we’d better. I stopped taking my pills when I...you know.”
“Left me? I get it. Luckily I’m prepared.”
“Why are you prepared? Have you been...”
“Sleeping with anyone but my fiancée? No. Not a chance in hell, which I think you know.”
She nodded. If there was one thing Owen was, it was true blue loyal. But still... He answered before she could press the issue.
“I bought them after that kiss at the picnic. Just in case. Hoping...and wanting to be ready if you had any concerns.” He scooped his shorts up off the floor, pulling his wallet out before tossing his shorts again. “And since it was a nice new box, I grabbed more than one.” He waved the connected packets over her face, making her giggle.
“Hope springs eternal?”
“Always be prepared.”
“Here, let me.”
She took the condom and slowly rolled it onto him, feeling a little thrill at the way he trembled at her touch. Then he settled over her again. Touching her once. Twice. Teasing. Entering a little, then out. She bit her lower lip in frustration. He did it again. And she bit his lower lip. A sexy laugh rumbled up from his chest. And then he was in her all the way. Like...all the way. She let out a cry and arched against him. He started moving, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down until his sweating chest was against hers.
This. This was what she truly desired.
They moved together as one gasping, moaning, biting, kissing, scratching unit. She didn’t know where she ended and where he began. And she didn’t care. They just let go of everything and...moved. He growled her name and the sound made her close her eyes tightly as she dug her fingers into his back. She didn’t need to see. Or speak. Or think. She just needed to feel. She surrendered all to him, basking in the sensations. The intensity built until he nipped her neck with his teeth, surprising her enough to open her eyes again.
“I want to see you when you go,” he said, sounding winded. “Ready?”
“God, yes!”
They went together, each giving a cry at the same instant, tightening their holds on each other as he pumped a few more times and she lifted her hips to keep him there. At last, when there was no steam left—no air left—he collapsed on her.
“Damn, Lucy Higgins. You just destroyed me. De-stroyed. I can’t... I can’t even think right now. I sure as hell can’t move. Are you...?”
She patted the back of his head absently, struggling to focus. “Shhhh...”
His head lifted, and she opened one eye just enough to see his amusement. “Woman, did you just shush me?”
“You can sing my praises later, big boy. When I can think rationally and appreciate it. Right now, just shush and hold me.”
“Yes, ma’am.” His voice was huskier now, and he shifted to the side so her back was against the back of the sofa. It was wide enough to hold them comfortably, but definitely cozy. He pulled her against him, kissing her softly on the temple. “Go to sleep baby. I got you.”
She wanted to answer him. Thank him. Say...something...that would describe her appreciation of what they’d just done. But between the warmth of his body and the heavy, sated feeling still glowing inside of her, all she could manage was a mumbled version of his name before everything went still and silent.
* * *
OWEN DIDN’T WANT to leave this dream. He was floating, warm and happy, on clouds of...something. If he thought about it too much, the dream would disappear. So he floated. And smiled.
Until someone smacked him hard on the shoulder. He tried to shrug it off, not wanting to leave the dream, but a voice started hissing in his ear.
“Owen! Wake up! Owen!” He finally opened his eyes. And damn, this dream was even better than the last. Lucy was naked in his arms, staring at him in...alarm. Well that wasn’t good. He blinked a few times and shook his head.
“What?” It wasn’t a brilliant response, but his brain hadn’t quite kicked into gear yet.
“All the lights are on! The power’s back!” She was hissing her words as if someone would overhear. But she was right. He hadn’t even noticed that the lamps were on around the room, and the hallway light was glowing, too. Now he could see the walls in here were painted a sage green, and the tufted sofa they were on was dark red. Lucy’s skin was alabaster tinged with pink. Her eyes were royal blue and...sharp. She was annoyed with him.
“So?” he said. “Turn the lights off and let’s go back to sleep. Unless you’d rather...?” He waggled his eyebrows at her and she groaned, staring up at the ceiling as she counted backward from ten. He stopped her at six. “Okay, what am I not understanding here? What time is it?” It was still pitch-dark outside the big windows.
“It’s quarter after eleven,” she
said, as if stating the obvious. “The lights are on. We’re naked. And none of the drapes are closed. This house sits about twenty feet from the sidewalk. Anyone walking by can see right into the house!”
“Okay, okay. I’m catching up with you now.” He looked over his shoulder to the floor, where their clothing was scattered. “No problem. I’m a soldier, remember?”
He reluctantly released her and slid off the cushion and onto the green-and-gold rug. She had a point—the tall old windows came down to about a foot off the floor. And damn if he could hear voices outside. Probably neighbors out to check storm damage now that the power—and the streetlights—was back on. He did his best belly crawl across the floor, tossing pieces of fabric over his shoulder toward the sofa as he went. Shirts. Shorts. Lace panties. He flopped onto his back like a fish and pulled on his own boxer briefs and shorts. That’s when he noticed Lucy wasn’t panicked anymore. She was laughing.
He laid his head back on the floor and watched as she wiggled into her shorts while still on her back on the sofa. She playfully tucked her panties into her pocket. His sweet mountain girl was commando. Did that mean she was planning on shedding those shorts again soon? She held up his shirt, now minus most of its buttons thanks to her, and her cheeks reddened. Then she gave him a saucy look and pulled the shirt on, without wearing anything else on top. She pulled the shirttails together and tied them under her breasts. The neckline plunged open down to the knot. It was sexy as hell. He started going hard just looking at her. She noticed.
“None of that, mister.” She sat up, then stood, turning off the light closest to the sofa. She tugged on one end of the tassel holding the front curtains, and the heavy drapes fell across that half of the windows. She did the same on the other side, then walked around taking care of windows and lights until the only light was coming from the hallway and they were in privacy once again. Her words...none of that...had taken care of his erection in record time. He’d known there was a chance tonight’s sofa sex was an aberration, but he’d been hoping for another round somewhere more comfortable. Like her bed upstairs.
None of that.
He stood, heading for the door and grabbing the lanterns. She turned, her brow arching.
“I locked the door earlier.”
“He nodded. “I know. Lock it again behind me, okay?” If the night was over, best for all concerned if he made a fast exit. Like yanking off a Band-Aid.
Lucy’s face fell. “You’re leaving?”
Why did she sound so surprised?
“I thought that’s what you wanted. You said none of that, so...”
Relief filled her soft gaze. “I meant right at that moment. None of that with people outside, the lights on and windows open. I’m not an exhibitionist.” She held out her hand, and he didn’t hesitate to walk over and take it. “I didn’t mean it couldn’t happen somewhere else.”
He followed her down the hall like an eager puppy. Somewhere else sounded promising. Hell, he’d take anywhere else if it meant he was staying the night. There were lights on in the kitchen, too. Owen smiled to himself—she’d made sure she wasn’t in the dark in any room...until the power went off. Lucy stopped so quickly in front of him he almost ran into her. She looked back with an apologetic smile.
“Would it be a total mood killer if I said I was hungry?”
He put his hand on his bare chest. “It would shatter my manly pride, unless...” He winked at her. “Unless you told me it’s because our lovemaking took so much energy out of you that you need to replenish.”
She laughed. “That wouldn’t be far from the truth. I only had a salad with tuna fish for dinner, and we were pretty...athletic.”
“I could use a midnight snack myself.” He kissed her forehead. “After all that athleticism.”
“Grilled cheese sandwich?” She gestured for him to sit at the island, which was topped with an unusual oval-shaped slab of unpolished gray marble. He nodded and sat down.
“For all the froufrou frilliness of the living room, this kitchen is pretty modern.”
Lucy was reaching for something in the refrigerator, and answered over her shoulder.
“I guess it’s a vacation rental thing. People want all that fun atmosphere stuff everywhere else, but they’ll pay more if there’s a fancy kitchen.” She took the cheese and butter to the counter and started putting the sandwiches together as the pan heated. “Would you like a slice of tomato in yours?”
“Sure.” He spotted a wine rack and stood. “How about I pour some wine?”
“Glasses are in the cupboard right above the wine.” The pan sizzled as she set the sandwiches in. “I’ve only been here a few days, but I like this house. Other than that wall of dead people portraits in the living room. They need to go.”
“Are you allowed to redecorate?” He chose a red wine, but before he opened it, he turned to face her. “You like pinot noir, right?”
She grinned. “Yes. And to answer your first question, I don’t think they’d want me redecorating while I’m renting, but it’s for sale.”
He started pouring. “What’s for sale?”
“The house. The owners have put a few of their rental properties up for sale. Including this one.” She flipped the sandwiches. “It’s a great house, right?”
“Um...yeah. I guess.” He didn’t think much about it as he put the wine on the island and found some plates, setting them near the stove. He was too distracted by how good his shirt looked on his woman. “You know you’ve left me half-naked by stealing my shirt, right? I don’t think any of your tops will fit me.”
Her hesitation was so brief he wasn’t sure he’d seen it. She put the grilled sandwiches on the plates and handed him one, flashing a quick smile. “First, you look good half-naked. Second... I have an idea, but...” She gave him a hip bump as she walked past him with the food. “We don’t have to worry about that until morning.”
They sat and ate. They really had worked up an appetite. Or they both wanted to get to whatever was coming next. She was almost finished with the second half of her sandwich and sipping her wine before she spoke again.
“Oh, this wine is good.” She sat back, swirling the dark liquid in her glass. “And one less thing for me to have to put on that spreadsheet. You know what wine I like. Maybe you know me better than either of us thought.”
Owen’s smile faded. “I don’t know enough. I told you I’d do better, and I will. We have a lot of talking to do after tonight, don’t we?”
“Yes, we do. And tonight doesn’t...”
“Tonight is tonight. I get it.” He knew one night wasn’t going to set everything right between them. “At least now I know you didn’t dump me because the sex was bad.”
She barked out a laugh, almost choking on her last bite of grilled cheese. “No, I didn’t. One more thing I don’t have to put on that spreadsheet—you definitely know how to please me sexually. And tonight was exceptional.”
“It was. And it’s not over yet.”
“Nope. Why don’t we head upstairs. Where the beds are.” She put their dishes in the sink, then surprised him by refilling the wineglasses and handing his to him before heading to the stairs.
Something was bugging him about all her spreadsheet talk. If she was ready to share, he knew he had to do the same. He tried to avoid being hypnotized by her butt moving back and forth ahead of him on the stairs. “You know, this whole learning about each other thing goes both ways—I’ll have to do a spreadsheet for you, too.”
“What don’t I know about you?” She seemed genuinely surprised. And interested. His behavior on the Fourth of July had hinted at the darkness that enveloped his last overseas tour. But that was something that happened to him. Around him. He had a feeling he needed to share something deeper. He blurted out the first truth that came to mind.
“I stayed in the Army to avoid taking over the business.�
��
Lucy stumbled on the top step. “I’m sorry...what?”
He got to the landing and looked her straight in the eye. “That extension I took had nothing to do with you or us or the wedding. I wanted to avoid dealing with the business and my parents and...” His shoulders dropped. “I didn’t know how to say any of that to you. Or them. When the Army offered extensions, I took one.”
“Okay... I need to sit down.” She led him into the back bedroom and hit the light switch. The walls were soft blue in here, with ivory drapes and a small fireplace that was blocked with an ornate iron cover. The carved four-poster, fitting the Victorian theme, had a lacy canopy and skirting, with a colorful quilt over the sheets. Lucy sat, patting the mattress for him to join her, but he hesitated. Sitting wasn’t what he’d had in mind for that bed. Better to keep his distance until they got this conversation over with. Lucy looked up at him as he leaned against the bedpost. “You don’t want to run Cooper Landscaping? I mean...since when?”
He stared past her to the headboard, with its floral carvings and a center arch that had to be nearly eight feet tall.
“Owen?”
He stared over at the fireplace now, wishing he’d never opened this can of worms. Not now. But Lena’s words came back to him. Be the man she deserves...
“The past few years...since I met you, actually...”
She held up a hand and laughed. “Do not blame this on me!”
“I’m not. But the truth is you...you changed me, Luce.” He wasn’t avoiding looking at her anymore. He needed her to hear him. “You weren’t part of the plan—mine or my parents. Meeting you knocked me off the train track I was very firmly on. You derailed me.” She started to object, but he pushed on. “I’m not blaming you. I’m crediting you. I had doubts about taking over the business because I didn’t even know the business anymore. When I went into the Army after college, it was a landscaping business. Planting stuff, building patios, maybe a firepit or retaining wall. Then they added the nursery and the produce market and a second location and...” He pushed his fingers through his hair. “It became more of a retail operation, which was never what I wanted. But how could I tell my parents I don’t want what they built? My entire life they’d made it clear that was my legacy...” He formed air quotes with his fingers. “Whatever that means. I didn’t know how to start that conversation, so...”