A Dream Too Far (Summer Lake Silver Book 2)

by SJ McCoy

  He smiled through pursed lips. “Not for a while.”

  She pushed at his arm. “I bet it’s been years, hasn’t it? Why do you even have a pool if you don’t use it?”

  “It hasn’t been years. It’s only a few months. I got in with Hope and Dylan a few months ago.”

  She laughed. “That doesn’t count. I mean, for your own enjoyment.”

  “I enjoyed that. And just because I don’t use it much, Ivan does. He often swims early in the morning before we leave for the office.”

  “Well, that’s something, I suppose.”

  “How about tomorrow we just hang out here, then? We can walk and swim and whatever else you want to do.”

  She surprised him when she stopped walking and slid her arms up around his neck. “There is something else I want to do, but I don’t want to wait until tomorrow before we do it.”

  His arms closed around her waist and held her against him. She was so soft and warm, her full breasts felt so good pressed against his chest. She held his gaze as he lowered his head to hers. He knew what she wanted, and he didn’t want to wait until tomorrow either.

  She pulled his head down to kiss her, and when their lips met, that now-familiar urgency coursed through his veins. His hands moved of their own accord. One came up to cup the back of her head, holding her in place as he explored her mouth with his tongue. The other hand slid down and closed around her rounded ass, kneading and squeezing, eliciting little moans from her that only intensified his need for her.

  She broke away from the kiss, and her eyes shone as she looked up at him. “I don’t want to wait anymore, Seymour.”

  He took her hand, and they walked back up the beach to the steps that led to the house.

  ~ ~ ~

  He stopped in the kitchen and put his hands on her shoulders. “Are you sure?”

  She chuckled. “I’m sure I’m sure. Are you?”

  He nodded. “I’ve been sure a few times already, but the moment always changed before we saw it through. I started to wonder if maybe you’re not so attracted to me that way.”

  She shook her head slowly. “You really are a crazy man, Seymour. Look at you.” She ran her fingers over his biceps, and a shiver ran down her spine. You’re gorgeous; there’s never been any question that I was attracted to you physically. You’re a very attractive man. I didn’t want to go there too soon because it wouldn’t mean much if I wasn’t as attracted to everything else about you, too. I’ve had the time to learn that I am. I love everything about you. I told you that I wasn’t interested in what you have, but in what you have in here.” She tapped her finger on the side of his head, and he smiled.

  She placed her hand over his heart. “You’ve won me over with what’s in here.”

  He took hold of her hand; a wave of heat rushed through her as he placed it over the front of his pants. “And now I want to thoroughly convince you with what’s in here.”

  She ran her tongue over her bottom lip. She’d lain awake many a night over the last couple of weeks wondering what he’d be like as a lover. There were so many sides to him. She was eager to discover whether the vulnerable Seymour or the more persuasive one would show himself in the bedroom.

  His eyes glimmered dark green when she looked into them. “Go ahead and convince me then,” she said.

  He held her hand as they walked up the stairs, and when he opened the bedroom door, she turned to look at him.

  “What?”

  “Don’t worry. I didn’t change my mind. It’s just … you know how you said you like my house because it feels like me?”

  He nodded.

  “This room …” She stepped inside and looked around. It was a big room—there was a sitting area over by the windows, but it didn’t look inviting. The bed and the furniture were all elaborately carved dark wood, but they looked like something out of a period drama to Chris. It wasn’t a place you’d want to come and relax at the end of the day or to stay in bed on a Sunday morning. “It doesn’t feel like you. I can see it being Seymour Davenport’s room—you know, the humorless guy who they interview on the financial TV shows. But that’s not the Seymour I know.”

  He stuck his bottom lip out and looked for all the world like a hurt child. “Humorless?”

  She laughed. “You know what I mean. That Seymour is all business. I’m not trying to be mean, it’s a beautiful room, but there’s no warmth in it.”

  “I do know what you mean. And you’re right, there’s no warmth—or humor—in the man who’s lived here. But I don’t want to be that man anymore. I want to be the man I am when I’m with you.”

  He went and sat on the bed and held his hands out to her. She went to him and stood between his legs. He closed his arms around her and rested his head against her stomach. “This has only ever been the place where I come to sleep after work.”

  She tangled her fingers in his hair and held him against her, but he leaned back and looked up into her eyes. “Will you help me fill it with love and laughter? Make it a place where our grandkids want to come visit because it’s a fun place to be?”

  She nodded. She wasn’t going to think too hard right now about whether her grandkids would ever visit this house. But she understood what he was asking, and she wanted to help him create it. “Let’s start by filling it with love.”

  He reached up and pulled down the zipper on the back of her dress. She wriggled out of it and let it fall to her feet.

  He looked like a starving man as he let his gaze move over her. “You’re beautiful, Chris.”

  She unfastened the top button of his shirt and smiled when he helped by undoing the rest, then shrugging out of it. His chest was just like she’d imagined it would be. Broad and strong, muscled, dusted with gray.

  He got to his feet and got rid of his pants before climbing onto the bed and reaching for her hand.

  She lay down face to face with him and let out a little moan as he crushed her to his chest and buried his face in her neck. She let her hands wander over him, stroking his back and shoulders.

  He lifted his head, and she cupped his face between her hands. “Kiss me.”

  When his lips came down on hers, she opened up to him, kissing him back, her tongue mating with his, her body quivering in anticipation. His hands moved over her, leaving trails of goose bumps in their wake. He unhooked her bra, and she got rid of it, turning to put it on the nightstand. When she turned back, the look in his eyes heated every cell in her body. The heat pooled between her legs as he closed his hands around her breasts.

  He smiled at her as he caressed them. “I think you’ve caught me ogling these a time or two?”

  She chuckled. “I haven’t; I was starting to wonder if they didn’t do it for you.”

  “Oh, they do it for me. Can I do it for them?”

  “Do wha—”

  He answered her by ducking his head and kissing each nipple in turn. They stood to attention, eager for more, and she lay back on the pillows surrendering to the sensations that his talented tongue sent racing through her.

  She reached down and tugged at his boxers. She wanted them gone. He looked up but kept circling her nipples with his thumbs. “Are you in a hurry?” He cocked an eyebrow and gave her that quirky little smile.

  “I want …” She had to catch her breath as he tormented her nipples, squeezing just hard enough that it sent warning signals zipping through her, fanning the heat that was building between her legs.

  “You want this?” He slid one hand inside her panties and stroked one finger over her entrance.

  She nodded mutely.

  He crawled back and slid down her panties, then stroked his hands back up over her thighs. She reached for him, hoping that he’d come back up and kiss her again and that their bodies could figure out between them how to fit together. He gave her a wicked smile and pushed her thighs farther apart. “May I?”

  She stared at him. Did he plan to? He stroked his thumb over her, making her sigh. It’d been a long time si
nce a man had taken any time or shown much interest in making sure she was ready. He dipped his head and trailed his tongue over her, making her grasp the sheets.

  “You taste so sweet.”

  She rolled her eyes at the ceiling. Was he for real?

  He was real, all right. And that talented tongue of his was working its magic. She rocked her hips in time with him as he tormented her, taking her closer and closer to the edge. She hadn’t known if she’d be able to climax with him—it didn’t always happen—but he was going to make sure she did. He seemed to understand what she needed better than she did herself. His fingers touching, his tongue dipping into her. Her muscles started to tense. She gripped the sheets harder.

  “Seymour!” she gasped.

  His response was to thrust his fingers deep, tipping her over the edge. She gasped her way through an orgasm stronger than she’d had in years. His fingers not letting her rest, his tongue urging her to give more, and she did.

  When she finally lay still, he came up to lie beside her. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

  She buried her face in his chest and closed her eyes.

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded against him but didn’t speak.

  “Are you sure?” He sounded worried. “Was that not good?”

  She forced herself to look up at him. “That was amazing! I’m embarrassed.”

  “Why?”

  She shrugged. “I … that was … I didn’t think. I didn’t expect …”

  He smiled. She was starting to think of that as his cocky smile. His lips quirked up, and he looked pleased with himself. “You didn’t expect to get there?”

  She shook her head and then buried her face against his chest again. “Don’t make me admit it! I’m not a spring chicken anymore.”

  He hugged her to him. “Nor would I want you to be. You’re you, and you’re beautiful. And you’re so damned sexy.”

  “You really think so?”

  He took hold of her hand and brought it down to touch him. She tried to bite back a smile, but she couldn’t hide it. He was hot and hard—very hard.

  “Does that tell you how much you turn me on?”

  She nodded and closed her fingers around him, stroking up and down the length of him.

  He closed his eyes and let his head fall back. She loved watching his face, loved knowing that she could give him so much pleasure. It wasn’t enough, though. She wanted to give him the same kind of pleasure as he’d just given her. She started to move down the bed, but he caught her arm and rolled her onto her back.

  “Don’t you want …?”

  He chuckled. “I do, but maybe next time? This time is for both of us.” He positioned himself above her and spread her legs with his knees.

  She slid her arms up around his shoulders and closed her eyes as he used his hand to guide himself to her. The heat started to build again when his hot, hard head pushed into her. He lowered his head and ran his tongue along her bottom lip. She opened up and kissed him back. His tongue thrust into her mouth and his body mirrored its movements. He thrust his hips, and she gasped as he filled her. She wrapped her legs around his, and her hips moved in time with his. He thrust deep and hard, carrying her away as he kissed her deeply. She grasped at his shoulders, doing what she could to hold on as he spun her away from reality and out into a space where only their bodies and pleasure existed. The pleasure mounted between her legs with every thrust; she could feel him grow harder and then tense. She moved with him desperately, not wanting to be left behind when his moment came. He lifted his head and slid his hands under her, kneading her backside, lifting her up to receive him, and when he did, he hit the spot and … “Seymour!” She gasped his name as he pushed her over the edge.

  “Yes!” he cried as he followed her. She felt his release, carrying them both away. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her. She felt as though she dissolved and came back together around him in their frenzied coupling.

  When they finally stilled, he smiled at her and planted a kiss on her lips. “You were well worth the wait, Chris.”

  She kissed the end of his nose. “So were you. But now that we know how good we are, we have some making up to do.”

  He chuckled and rolled to the side. “I like the sound of that. But you know I can’t make it up to you if you’re not in my bed.”

  She cocked her head to one side.

  “I mean, it’s going to be hard to make up for lost ground if I’m here and you’re in Summer Lake.”

  Her heart sank. She couldn’t come and be here with him. Her life was in Summer Lake—her kids, her grandkids.

  He tucked his thumb under her chin and tilted her head back so she had to look him in the eye. “Don’t look so worried. I don’t want to be here anymore than I have to. What I’m saying is, I think it’s time that I change things up—hand over the reins at work.”

  “Because of me?”

  He touched her cheek. “Not so that I can follow you around every moment like a lost puppy dog if that’s what you mean.”

  She let out a relieved laugh. “I wouldn’t have put it that way.”

  “I do want to spend more time with you, Chris. But the changes I want to make are more inspired by you than for you. I doubt you’d want me under your feet the whole time.”

  She shook her head rapidly. For a moment there, she’d been afraid that he was going full-on needy guy.

  “You put it into words for me. I need to save myself. I need to create new habits. I want you to be part of my life, Chris—a big part. But first, I need to figure out what my life should look like.”

  She smiled. “You do. I’ll support you any way I can. I’ll tease you and kick your butt when you need it. And hopefully, when you’ve figured it all out, you’ll still have room for me. I want you to be a part of my life, too. I just won’t be your next means of escape.”

  He curled his arm around her and held her close. “I don’t need you to be my escape, Chris. I want you to be my new reality.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Seymour went to stand by the windows while he waited for the coffee to brew. He felt as though he was seeing the view with new eyes. Up until this weekend, he didn’t remember ever taking the time to just stand here and take it in.

  Usually, his Monday mornings here were short and hurried. He got up, showered, made coffee, and left for work. Today he’d followed the same routine, up to the leaving part. He wouldn’t be doing that until Chris was ready, and she was still in the shower.

  He smiled. The weekend had gone by so quickly. He wished it wasn’t over yet. If she wasn’t going to meet her sister, he would have asked her to stay. He wasn’t sure if she would have agreed to it, but he would have asked.

  He poured two mugs of coffee and sipped his own. He drank it as it came—black, no sugar. He didn’t know what he should add to Chris’s. In small, practical respects like that, there was still so much he had to learn about her. But he knew everything he needed to know about the way she made him feel. And about the changes he wanted to make in his life.

  She came bounding down the stairs looking like summer in a pair of white slacks and a bright blue blouse.

  “I hope that’s coffee?”

  “Yes. Decaf, that’s all I drink.”

  She stopped dead halfway across the kitchen, and the smile froze on her face. “Decaf?”

  He had to laugh. “No. I’m pulling your leg.”

  “Phew!” She came to him and took the mug he held out to her. “I should warn you, I don’t take many things seriously, but my morning coffee is one of them.”

  “Duly noted. Do you want cream and sugar?”

  “No, thanks. I’m sweet enough.”

  He went to her and pecked her lips. “You are.”

  She put the mug down and slid her arms around his waist. “I had such a great time this weekend.”

  He held her close to his chest. “I did, too. Is it still okay if I come to see you next weekend
?”

  “Yes. I can’t wait!”

  “Neither can I. I’m going to be busy this week, but if I can get finished up in time, would you mind if I come before the weekend?”

  “Not at all. I wish you could come with me now.”

  He chuckled. “You’re not even going home yourself yet.”

  “You know what I mean, though.” She looked up into his eyes, and his heart buzzed with happiness. “I wish we didn’t have to say goodbye again today.”

  “I hope the day will come when we don’t ever say goodbye again.”

  She nodded. “I do, too.”

  “I love you, Chris.”

  “And I love you; don’t doubt that. I do hope we can figure this out. But I’m a practical soul. We both have lives and commitments that we’re not going to give up. And much as I love spending time with you, I need time for myself, too.”

  His heart sank. This weekend had been so much fun; they’d been so happy together. Was she trying to let him down gently now that it was over? Or was she simply telling him not to get too carried away?

  “Don’t look like that. I just told you, I love you. I want to be with you. But for both our sakes, whatever we’re going to build together, we need to build carefully. We need to make sure that there’s room for each of us still to be ourselves.”

  “Okay. For a minute there, I thought you were telling me …” He hesitated, not sure what he’d thought.

  She planted a peck on his lips. “I’m telling myself as much as I’m telling you that, great as this all is, we don’t want to spoil it by rushing it.”

  She looked over his shoulder, making him smile because he knew what she was doing. “How are we for time?”

  She chuckled. “I’ve got plenty. It’s you I’m thinking about. I bet you’re normally at the office by now, aren’t you?”

  “I am. But recently, I met this beautiful woman who taught me to play things by ear. I’ll get there when I get there today.” And after this week, he wasn’t sure how much he’d go there at all. It was time to restructure. He wouldn’t step down completely, but it was time to put someone else at the helm and take more of a back seat.