Whisper of Love (The Bradens at Peaceful Harbor, Book Five)

by Melissa Foster

  He lifted his eyes, but hers were closed, her lower lip trapped beneath her teeth. Her fingernails dug harder into his skin. “Angel, do you want me to stop?”

  “No,” she whispered. “God, no.”

  Grinning like an idiot, he thanked his lucky stars and slanted his mouth over hers again. Jesus, he could kiss her until the sun came up and never feel like he’d missed out on a thing. She was strength and delicacy, trust and happiness, all in one devastatingly sweet woman. His hand moved down her side, squeezing her waist, her hip, her thigh, wanting to claim every piece of her. When he reached the edge of her dress he felt her tense up and stilled his hand, giving her the reins.

  She kissed him slowly, carefully, and then her hips lifted off the mattress, shifting slightly. She covered his hand with hers, pressing his fingers into her thigh. It was the green light he needed, and he felt grateful and proud and so fucking happy he grinned into the kiss again.

  She was smiling, too, and they both laughed. He wrapped her in his arms and rolled them onto their sides, cupping her ass with two hands and aligning their bodies once again.

  “Three years is a long fucking time,” he admitted. “I’m out of practice.”

  She wiggled against his erection. “You don’t feel out of practice.”

  God, she was so fucking sexy. “I’m afraid of going too fast, or misreading a signal. And I really don’t want to screw this up.”

  “I promise,” she whispered, “if you misread anything, I’ll tell you. But I’m right here with you, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  His heart turned over in his chest. He touched his lips to hers again, and their mouths fused together in a scorching kiss that burned away all the remaining anxiety, leaving no room for anything but white-hot desire. He didn’t ask permission, didn’t slow down, as his hands coasted over her ass and legs, up her back, until the thin material of her dress was tangled in his fists, and they both rose. He drew her dress over her head and tossed it to the other side of the bed. In the space of a breath he drank in her sweet curves, restrained by pretty pink lace, and the wicked look of lust in her eyes. Adrenaline surged within him as he took her in another demanding kiss. His hands moved over her skin like water claiming new territory, touching her everywhere at once, and when he went for the clasp on her bra, his thick fingers fumbled. She reached behind her back and removed it for him. They both went a little wild, kissing and groping as they fell to the mattress in a tangle of limbs and loud, greedy noises.

  “More. I need more of you,” he said urgently, tasting her flesh as he moved down her body.

  “Yes—”

  He lowered his mouth to her breast, swiping his tongue over and around one rosy peak. Her back bowed off the bed, but he kept up the tantalizing tease. He’d waited so fucking long for her, he was determined to enjoy every minute of it. Three years felt like nothing compared to these last couple of weeks.

  “Please—” she begged.

  He greedily sucked her breast, lust thrumming through him with each of her needy whimpers. He lavished the other breast with the same taunts until she bucked beneath him, demanding more. Sealing his mouth over that luscious breast, he sucked so hard she cried out. He tried to release her, but she clutched his head, holding him in place. Fuck yeah.

  TEMPEST WAS LOST in a world of scintillating pleasure and emotions she was too swept up in to define. Out of practice? Who was he kidding? Every swipe of his tongue set her nerve endings on fire.

  “Good Lord,” she panted out. “I want to live in your mouth.”

  He touched her with gentle power despite his massive size. His teeth clamped around her nipple, and she sucked in a sharp breath, feeling the effect like a bolt of lightning between her legs. He sucked her breast into his mouth again, deep and hard, for so long she felt herself climbing toward the edge of release. She heard herself whimper, and he released her breast, claiming her mouth again, and just as quickly, moved back to her body, pressing hot, openmouthed kisses down the center. He clutched her ribs with both hands as he killed her brain cells one kiss at a time. She arched up, needing more, wanting to submerge herself in each and every sinful moment at the same time. Her consciousness rolled out like the tide. He slicked his tongue over her skin again, and she surged toward the edge of oblivion. He pushed his hands to her hips, pressing his fingers into her flesh, and brought his mouth to her inner thigh. Holy cow. She fisted her hands in the sheets as he sucked her sensitive skin to the point of titillating pain. She arched off the mattress and he pushed her down, eyeing her hungrily. The man knew how to take control, something she never thought she’d like, but she was so turned on her whole body was shaking.

  She shifted her hips, giving him the signal she knew he was seeking. His lips quirked up, and a devilish look came over him, causing her pulse to spike as he hooked his fingers into the sides of her panties and tore them off. Tore. Them. Off. Two shreds of silk and lace drifted down on opposite sides of the bed. He didn’t waste any time—thank God—and slicked his tongue along the center of her sex. Her eyes slammed shut, and she heard a stream of noises sailing from her lungs. He was all in, eating at her sex, one hand holding her down, the other playing over her clit with perfect pressure. She felt the pulse of an orgasm building inside her, and when he shifted, thrusting his fingers inside her, and brought his mouth to that oversensitive bundle of nerves, fireworks exploded behind her closed lids.

  “Nash—”

  Her toes curled under and her heels dug into the mattress, but he was relentless, taking her up, up, up, and higher still. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, could only give herself over to the burning sensations that seemed captive within her. Words sailed from her lips—“Ohgod, ohgod, ohgod. Right there.”

  He stopped.

  Her head shot off the mattress and she looked between her legs, frustration rising inside her.

  Nash looked at her with a playful smile, his lips glistening with the evidence of her arousal. He pressed a finger over his lips and pointed at the door. She slapped her hand over her mouth and fell back to the mattress, mortified. And then his mouth was on her again, causing one heart-stopping orgasm after another, until she lay in a cloud of ecstasy, trying to catch her breath. The mattress sank as Nash moved beside her. His jeans brushed against her legs. She’d forgotten he was still dressed. Embarrassment seeped in again. She’d just come too many times to count and he was still clothed!

  She opened her eyes and found him gazing down at her with so much emotion swimming in his eyes, there was no room for embarrassment. He pressed a series of shivery kisses to her lips, his hands roving over her skin. His chest was hot and hard, and he felt delicious. When she’d first seen him shirtless, she’d been mesmerized. He wasn’t perfectly sculpted like those models she’d seen in fitness magazines. He was real, with a dusting of chest hair that led south like a treasure trail, disappearing beneath his jeans. His physique was hard and defined from physical labor, not from lifting weights, and it must do something different to a body, because she could pass up models any day, but she was pretty sure those seams on her panties had melted open when she’d set her eyes on him.

  He hauled her to him, taking the kiss deeper. She felt his frantic heart beating against her own.

  “You still have your pants on.” Reaching for the button on his jeans, she said, “Off, please.”

  His face clouded with uneasiness. “Fuck. I don’t have a condom. I didn’t think we were going to…”

  “I’m on the pill. Are you clean? Please tell me you’re clean.”

  His expression didn’t ease. He wrapped his hand around her wrist, moving her hand from the button of his jeans to his hip. “I’m clean, Tempe, but…”

  His eyes drifted to the door, and her lust-addled brain finally realized the reasons for his hesitancy. The pleading look in his eyes made her wish she’d realized it sooner. “But you don’t want to take any chances,” she answered for him. “Was Phillip’s mom on the pill? It’s ninety-nine perce
nt effective.”

  He shook his head. “Broken condom. Christ, Tempe. I don’t want to bring her into the bedroom with us. What we have is already a hundred times more than she and I ever did. But I’m just starting to figure out mine and Phillip’s life, and”—a hopeful smile split his lips, and he ran his knuckles down her cheek—“I’m so into you, I don’t want to chance something going wrong when we’re just starting out.”

  Her heart was so full of him it felt near bursting. She touched her lips to his, and he slid his hand to the back of her neck, drawing her closer, kissing her deeper, and igniting all that warmth into flames. How did he do it with just a kiss? She pushed him onto his back, his eyes widening as she tugged the button of his jeans open.

  “Tempe, I’m serious. I don’t want to chance it. Not when you’re just getting started with your business and Phillip is about to go through more changes with preschool.”

  She came down over him, as he’d done to her, kissing him until he was all over her again, pawing, and groaning and rocking his formidable cock against her.

  Any shyness she once felt was gone. She wanted him, and she wasn’t about to let tonight end until he knew it. “Take your pants off,” she said, tugging at his zipper.

  He grabbed her hand again. “Angel, I can’t.”

  She palmed his erection. “Oh, you can. But we’re not going to. I respect your concerns, Nash. I’d never try to push you into changing a decision about something so important. But if you think you’re walking out of this bedroom without feeling as good as you made me feel, you’re wrong.”

  His brows knitted with confusion, and she ducked her head, slicking her tongue along his stomach and dipping beneath the waist of his jeans. “Unless I can get pregnant this way, I think we’re safe.”

  His jeans were off in three seconds flat, and her mind reeled at the first sight of his long, thick, perfectly sculpted baby maker. He gathered her in his arms, and she forced her eyes up to his.

  “Lie back.” She pushed him onto his back, earning the sexiest smile she’d ever seen, but she caught only a glimpse of it, because she was already moving south, her eyes locked on the junction of his powerful thighs.

  Tempest wrapped her fingers around his heavy, hard length and dragged her tongue across the broad tip. He sucked in air between gritted teeth, and she did it again, craving that heady noise. He groaned—just as sexy. She licked him from base to tip, gliding over the glistening bead at the crest, his essence bursting in her mouth. She lowered her mouth over his shaft, and his hips bucked up. His hand came down over her hair, stroking it as she followed every deep suck with a tight stroke of her hand. He picked up her rhythm, rocking with her. He fucked her mouth hard and fast, hitting the back of her throat with each thrust.

  “Angel, I need you.” He grabbed her ankle, shifting her body so they were side by side, his impressive erection stretched past his belly button, and he buried his face between her legs.

  “Ohmygod.”

  She was struck dumb for a moment, too lost in the feel of his mouth to remember that she was supposed to be pleasuring him. She bent her leg, opening wider for him, and he held it against his shoulder, thrusting his tongue deep inside her.

  Holy mother of God. This man…

  His hips bucked and she fisted his cock again, taking him to the back of her throat, stroking and sucking to the same beat as his tongue fucking her. Her insides coiled into a tight knot, and she felt him grow impossibly thicker in her hand.

  “Come with me,” she panted out.

  She tried to focus on bringing him pleasure, teasing his sac with one hand as she worked him with her mouth, but he was too good at what he was doing, and she kept stopping just to bathe in the exquisite pleasures he was doling out. She felt the prickling heat of her orgasm racing up her limbs, burning deep in her belly, and she worked him faster, took his cock deeper. Just when she thought she was going to lose her mind, her orgasm crashed over her, and the first pulse of his release shot down her throat. She swallowed it down, her inner muscles pulsing as he worked his magic—and came, and came, and came.

  They both collapsed to the mattress, breathless and sated. Nash wrapped his hand around her ankle, placing tender kisses along her calf. She rested her cheek against his leg, trying to remember how to breathe. It should have been an awkward position, but it felt intimate and sensual.

  When they finally found their way to the same end of the bed, he tucked her naked body against his, spooning her from behind. His arm came over her, cupping her breast as if it were made just for him.

  “I’m so glad you’re here, angel,” he whispered.

  Angel. For the first time ever, she knew she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

  Chapter Fourteen

  IT FELT STRANGE to be in town without a secondary agenda of dropping off a piece of furniture or picking up supplies. But as Tempest had so kindly pointed out, Nash and Phillip could both use a little socialization, and there was no better time to socialize than when Tempest was playing guitar at the Downtown Art Boutique. The boutique was a colorful mix of art mediums, ranging from wood and glass to metal and fabric. Every piece was for sale, from the stylish chairs—now filled with customers—to the lights and batik curtains flanking the front windows. Peace flags and wind chimes hung from the ceiling, along with at least a dozen different chandeliers, some boasting candles rather than lights. There were even paintings suspended above their heads. Nash had spent so little time in town he hadn’t even known the eclectic boutique existed until Phillip and Tempest had mentioned it. As he meandered through the shop Friday night, picking out a pretty pair of dangling angel earrings for Tempest and a hand-dyed tambourine for Phillip, he wondered what else he’d missed in the quaint town.

  The children’s boutique took up the rear half of the store, separated only by the change from hardwood in the adult boutique to plush carpeting with pastel animal prints. Nash stood at the juncture of the two, admiring Tempest as she played for a group of children in the center of the carpet and wondering how he’d make it through the weekend without her. She was going to Peaceful Harbor tomorrow for her Girl Power meeting, and she had Cole’s picnic on Sunday as well as a client to see later that afternoon. She had such a busy schedule, he was glad she found time for him and Phillip. He smiled as he watched her. Her hair was secured at the nape of her neck with a pretty blue clip that matched her eyes. Blond tendrils framed her face, a few stray strands resting over the shoulder of her sweater. He’d seen so many of her emotions—happy, sad, concerned, sated—but sitting on that purple velvet chair, with at least a dozen young faces smiling up at her as the children sang silly songs with her, she looked like she’d found her calling. She mesmerized those children, and Phillip was right in the thick of them, trying to keep up with the lyrics and laughing with the redheaded boy beside him. Nash wondered where his quiet boy had gone. She lifted her eyes as he glanced over again, and he found his answer.

  He blew her a kiss, and the adorable blush that often chased her emotions rose on her cheeks, as it had last night. He’d never forget the way she’d looked at him when she’d pushed him onto his back and loved him with her mouth. Or the sweet sighs she’d made as she’d drifted off to sleep in his arms. He’d stayed with her until just before dawn. And they’d snuck kisses every chance they’d gotten this morning before she’d left to come to the boutique. He and Phillip had shown up shortly after Tempest, giving her time to get settled in and giving Nash and Phillip time to swing by the store and pick up a few things, most importantly, a box of condoms. Thank God Phillip couldn’t read yet.

  A pretty blonde who looked to be around Nash’s age sidled up to him, watching Tempest. “She’s something, isn’t she?”

  “She sure is,” he said.

  “The kids love her. I’m thinking about asking her to play twice a month. You know, bring in some family fun.” She paused, then held out her hand. “I’m Hattie Rivers. I don’t think we’ve met.”

  He glan
ced over, taking in her bright green eyes, the multitude of colorful necklaces and bracelets like the ones he’d seen for sale in the display cabinets, and her wide, friendly smile, and shook her hand.

  “No, we haven’t. I’m Nash Morgan, Tempest’s boyfriend.” He loved the way that rolled off his tongue. “Thank you for being so kind to my son, Phillip, the other day.”

  “Oh, Phillip is yours? He’s the cutest boy. He’s got this quiet zest about him that really comes to life once he’s comfortable. You are going to have your hands full when he’s a teenager.” Her eyes narrowed. “Wait. Nash Morgan? Are you…? Nash Morgan the artist?”

  “I don’t do much art anymore. Mostly furniture, but yes, unless there are more Nash Morgans around here.”

  She grabbed his arm and dragged him toward a door with a sign above it that read WHERE THE COOL STUFF HAPPENS. She threw the door open, and Nash’s breath left his lungs. In the back of an office, which was as interesting and colorful as the boutique, stood one of his sculptures.

  “That’s mine,” he said absently.

  “No way.” Hattie laughed. “That beauty is all mine. I bought it five years ago at a gallery in Roanoke.” She nudged him forward. “You can go in. You look like you miss it. I get that way with my art, too.”

  Yeah, he missed it, all right. He’d never been a big believer in signs, but between the song that had come out when he’d played the guitar the other night and the sculpture before him, he was pretty sure the universe was speaking to him.

  “I made this piece while I was staying at a campsite. My neighbors weren’t too happy with me.” They’d complained at first, but once they’d realized what he was doing, they’d put up with the noisy equipment, coming by to bring him coffee and admire his work each day.