by V. A. Dold
In answer, she felt his head shake. “The guys you went to school with were idiots.”
Sharon lifted her head to admire the handsome man holding her. His chocolate brown gaze met hers. His expression was intense, full of heat and longing. She looked forward to loosing herself in his eyes for the next thirteen hundred years. This man was definitely worth the endless string of losers she endured searching for him. “You’re very good for my ego. I just might keep you around.”
“You can keep me for as long as you want,” he whispered into her ear.
She had to kiss him. They had worked their way to the edge of the dance floor near a wall. With a little maneuvering, she turned them so his back was to the room. Perfect, his height created a barrier to prying eyes. “Kiss me, Mark.”
Heat flared in his eyes, and he grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
She closed her eyes, lips slightly parted. Thankfully, he had a tight hold on her. The instant his lips touched hers, electricity tingled over her skin and she swooned into him.
They lost themselves in each other.
Lord have mercy, her lips were soft. He could kiss this woman forever. He needed more. Tightening his hold on her waist with his left hand, he cupped the back of her head with his right. When her tongue caressed his, his entire body quivered like a live wire.
The silk of her gown under his fingertips added a sensual, tactile aspect to the entire experience. He wondered what her skin would feel like when he skimmed his hands over every inch of her naked curves. Her body heat and scent enveloping him was making him slightly dizzy. Or was it the lack of oxygen to his brain? Hell, who cared? He had her right where he wanted her and he wasn’t about to let her go.
When he had adjusted his hold, he felt her soft, full breasts with their taut peaks press closer to his chest. If they weren’t in a room full of people, he would cup them in his hands and show her just how beautiful she was. He’d convince her, he was the only man for her. Behaving like the gentleman he was raised to be was utter torture.
Mindful of her styled hair, his fingers brushed gentle circles on the nape of her neck. It was killing him to leave his left hand at the small of her back. He was dying to slide it lower and cup the rounded curve of her backside.
Plastered to each other the way they were, there was no way she didn’t feel the extent of his arousal. His body ached to rub against her heat, but he would never do such a crass thing to her in public. If they were alone, he couldn’t say he’d be so well behaved.
He had no choice but to end the kiss and take a breath. Nuzzling her neck, he murmured, “I could dance with you all night.”
“All night works for me.”
He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. “I want to thank you again for bidding on me.”
She held his gaze and gave him a come hither look. “You’re very welcome, but, Mark, I don’t want your gratitude. Make no mistake, that’s not even close to what I want from you.”
They stood still on the dance floor, ignoring the couples dancing near them, spellbound by each other’s eyes.
Mark swallowed hard. He wanted Sharon more than he’d ever wanted a woman before. His mind whirled as he tried to work out making love to her with, or hell, without his prosthesis. How the heck was that going to work? Screw it. If he could get past her seeing his leg for the first time, he would figure it out.
Decision made, he pulled his big boy pants on. “Tell me what you want, Sharon.”
“You, Mark. I want you. Take me home?”
“With pleasure,” he growled, and took her by the hand. Without another word, they walked to their table for Rizzo and her purse and then started for the exit.
He was about to march straight to his car when his brain engaged. “Did you bring a wrap or coat?”
“Yes, my wrap is in the coat check.” She fished the claim ticket from her small clutch.
“I’ll get that for you.”
She stood quietly at his side while he collected her wrap. “Allow me,” he said with a grin as he draped it around her shoulders. He took her hand again, kissed the back and walked them out the door.
They reached the valet and she looked up at him. “I came in a limo, did you drive?”
“Yes. If you prefer the limo, I could meet you at your place,” he said, unsure what she would want to do.
“If you don’t mind, I would like to go with you.”
His smile returned. “Great, but what about the limo?”
“I’ll call Carlos and tell him he can take the rest of the night off.”
As she pulled her phone from her purse the valet pulled up with his car. Mark opened her door and waited for her to straighten her gown. Then he put Rizzo in the back and hustled as fast as he was able to the driver side.
It was only a short drive to Sharon’s palatial home. The glaring evidence that she was a very wealthy woman brought his insecurities roaring to the surface. He had nothing to offer a woman like Sharon. What was she doing with a man like him? Did she pick up guys from the wrong side of the tracks just to pass the time and have a little fun?
As he began to drown in his thoughts, he felt her hand squeeze his thigh.
“Don’t let the house fool you. I’m not a high-society snob. And you may not believe this, but I’ve never brought a man here before.”
Mark gaped at her. “Never?”
She smiled and shook her head. “There has never been anyone I wanted to share it with. Until I met you.”
Her words warmed his heart and reinstated his confidence. He placed his hand over hers and smiled back. “Then I’m honored you’re sharing it with me.”
His mind raced as he drove her winding driveway to the front of the house, imagining having her all to himself. No one watching them. No interruptions.
“Where should I park the car?”
“You can pull up to the door. It won’t be in the way. No one will be coming by tonight.”
Once parked, he hurried to unload Rizzo, open her door, and offered his hand.
She smiled up at him. “You have such lovely manners.”
“I learned everything from my father. He is a wonderful man, and I try everyday to emulate him.”
“I would love to meet him.”
“The next time I go home, I would love to take you with me and introduce you.” He prayed Sharon would still want to see him after tonight.
“I would love to.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely.”
He wanted to shout his joy to the heavens, but he contained himself.
Sharon opened the door and welcomed him in. “I’ve given my housekeeper the night off, so we have the place to ourselves.”
Mark took in the grand entrance in awe. He stood in the epitome of New Orleans opulence. “Your home is breathtaking.”
“Thank you. My parents built it and left it to me when they decided to travel. Mother fell in love with the Scottish highlands, so my father bought her a castle and they never came back.”
Mark chuckled, shaking his head. “I can’t imagine having that kind of money.”
“Having money buys ‘things,’ it doesn’t buy love or happiness.”
“That’s true. I know a lot of people living paycheck to paycheck who are very happy.” Then a thought crossed his mind and he frowned. “Are you unhappy, Sharon?”
She smiled over her shoulder as she led him to the parlor. “Not anymore.”
His heart skipped a beat. In that moment, he knew without a doubt, he would follow this woman anywhere, for as long as she would have him.
She motioned to a sitting area and then walked to a wet bar. “Would you like a drink?”
“I had my limit at the ball. Do you have soda?”
“I do. Is cola all right?”
“Perfect.”
She handed him the soda and then sat next to him on the couch with her own drink. He watched her every move as she placed a coaster on the coffee table and set her glass in place.
When she sat back he put his arms around her and pulled her close. Lowering his lips to hers, he kissed her. “I can’t get enough of you,” he growled, his voice gravelly with savage yearning.
His hand went to her hair, and he breathed across her lips. “Can I take your hair down? I want to see it flowing over your shoulders.”
“You can do anything you want,” she breathed back.
Mark slid both hands into her hair, worked the pins free, and combed it out with his fingers, kissing her as he alternated between stroking and bunching her hair in his fist.
“I’ve never felt anything so silky.”
Sharon’s moans were sweet music to his ears. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her.
He kissed the corner of her mouth, across her jaw, to lavish attention to her neck. When he kissed the crook of her neck, he heard her make a strange rumbling sound. He lifted his head in question and she opened her eyes.
“I need you, Mark.” Before he could respond, she stood and held out her hand. “Let’s take this to my bedroom.”
He took her hand and followed her up the sweeping staircase. With every step, trepidation threatened to overtake him. He was going to have to get naked. He wanted her more than air, but as they crossed the threshold of her massive suite he froze. Rizzo pushed her head under his hand to get his attention and pull him out of the emotional spiral.
She turned, a questioning frown creasing her brow. “Is something wrong?”
He sucked in a shaky breath and raked his fingers through his hair. His mind scrambled, searching for a response that wouldn’t utterly humiliate him. He had nothing to offer her, but the truth. “I haven’t been with a woman since I lost my leg. Hell, even my doctors were men. I don’t know if I can do this.”
He expected pity or disgust. To his shock her expression soften and held only love and reassurance.
She stepped to him and gently touched his chest. “I don’t care about your leg, Mark. I want you, the man that you are. Your leg doesn’t factor into that at all.”
He stepped back, shaking his head. “I don’t think I can live with the memory of horror and disgust on your face when you see the stump where my leg should be.”
Sharon sighed. “Before I took over as the lady of the manor, I spent years as a healer. I’ve seen more severed limbs and maiming injuries than you can imagine. Your leg is nothing I haven’t seen before.”
That got his attention. “You have?”
She nodded and reached for his hand. “I have. When you lost part of your leg, you lost a bit of flesh and bone. The man you are inside, the man I’m falling in love with, wasn’t lost. He remains alive and well, standing in the threshold of my bedroom wearing much more clothing than I was hoping for.”
Chapter 6
Mark felt warmth creep up his neck to his face. Arousal heated his blood. He didn’t want to wait any longer to take his awakened body for a test drive. He commanded Rizzo to lie in the hallway outside Sharon’s door, took a cleansing breath and said, “Tell me you want to do this. I need to hear the words.” His voice was steady, but inside, self-doubt and vulnerability reigned supreme.
She never looked away from him, never showed any sign she’d changed her mind. If anything, she looked like she wanted him even more.
“I’ve never wanted anything or anyone more in my life.” As if to prove her point, she pulled the hidden zipper of her dress and dropped the bodice to her waist. Then popped the clasp of her bra and tossed it to the floor.
Mark was unable to speak or breathe. He’d swallowed his tongue. Damn. Numb from the neck up, he stared at the most incredible woman he’d ever seen.
Sharon laughed softly, and stepped into him again. “Let me help you out of that monkey suit.” She placed her palms on his chest and searched his eyes. “Do you trust me, Mark?”
Still unable to speak with her bared breasts mere inches away, he nodded.
She reached for his belt, and as she pulled the leather free of the buckle, she began to speak again. “Past experience has taught me the best way to alleviate a patient’s fear is to rip the Band-Aid off, so to speak. In the moment, the fear may be paralyzing. Once the experience is over, they can move forward and leave it behind. It may be difficult, but in a minute, you’ll realize your apprehension was unnecessary. Assuming, the person you are removing the Band-Aid for is worthy of you, and cares more about the man than his individual parts. And I don’t give a rat’s patoot about your leg.” She glanced up at him and smiled. “I promise.”
Mark was listening so intently to what she was saying, he didn’t realize she’d managed to get his pants undone until she took a step back.
When he glanced around and frowned, as if looking for something she asked, “Is it easier for you to stand or sit to remove your slacks?”
He spotted a fainting couch across the room. “If you don’t mind, I’ll use that.”
“Be my guest.”
Holding his pants in place he walked to the couch. Before he could chicken out, he pushed them below his hips and sat to shove them to the floor. Just as he realized he still wore shoes, Sharon knelt at his feet and removed them.
“Thank you,” he murmured sheepishly.
As quickly as he could he stripped the slacks away to expose his leg. To his surprise and relief, instead of being shocked, Sharon seemed intrigued.
“Do you mind if I take a look at your prosthetics?”
He went as still as stone. “I’ve never been asked that before.” Then he gathered his courage and said. “Go ahead.”
Sharon touched him gently as she inspected his hi-tech leg. “This is fantastic. Is it painful to wear?”
He shook his head. “Not as much as the first one I had.” The last thing he wanted to do was discuss his leg. He got to his feet and stood before her in all his glory. From the waste down, anyway. Mark watched her face closely for signs of revulsion. Her dark chocolate eyes slowly raked up and down his lower body. To his relief, she expressed only appreciation and if he wasn’t mistaken, arousal.
Then her eyes rose and captured his. Oh, yeah. There was more than arousal in her eyes, there was a virtual forest fire blazing. Oddly, they appeared to glow.
The increased rise and fall of her chest, caused her luscious breasts to sway, and his erection to twitch. If she didn’t touch him soon, he was going to die.
With a husky voice, she asked, “May I remove the rest of your tuxedo?”
In two steps, he stood before her, and placed her hands on his chest. “Only if you hurry.”
Mark heard that strange rumbling sound again, right before she pushed the jacket from his shoulders and gripped the front of his shirt. The sound of rending fabric filled the room. “Was that fast enough?”
He chuckled as he reached for her gown. “I like your style, but I also like this dress. I would hate to damage it.” He noticed the zipper was only partly undone and lowered it the rest of the way. Without effort, the silk pooled around her sexy heels. Sharon stole his breath in her thigh high stockings and stiletto pumps.
A groan ripped from his throat. “Damn, woman. You’re spectacular.” He pulled her hard against his chest and slammed his mouth on hers. She immediately matched his frantic need, opening her lips and inviting him to explore. He dipped his tongue into the sweet cavern of her mouth and did just that.
Mark felt her fingers kneading his scalp like a cat. Damn that felt good. Who knew a scalp massage could be erotic? When she made the rumbling sound, she even sounded a little like a cat purring.
God bless America, she not only smelled like banana bread she tasted like it, too. That mixed with steamy sex, love, and home. His tongue delved deeper and he crushed her closer. He’d never felt like a caveman with a woman before, but Sharon brought the hidden Neanderthal out in him.
When her nails raked his back, she almost did him in. A growl erupted from his chest.
She moaned in response, a ragged needy sound.
Mark gathered what li
ttle reserve of gentlemanly behavior he was able to muster, and stepped away. Chest heaving, she blinked her passion-clouded eyes at him in question.
There was a heap of vulnerability in his eyes. “Tell me you still want this.”
Quivering in his arms, she smiled. “More than you know. Shall we take this to the bed?”
“Thank God,” he groaned, and his mouth was on hers again, ravenous, insistent. Before he thought better of it, he swept her into his arms and walked to the bed. Something he never would have done were he in his right mind. A slight misstep and he would have dropped her and more than likely landed on top of her to boot.
He laid her down and gazed at her. She was the most amazing, incredible woman he’d ever seen. His eyes devoured her from head to toe. The stockings and heels were fucking hot, but her panties needed to go.
He moved to the end of the bed and grinned. Then he took hold of her ankles and pulled her toward him. A quick glance at her face told him she was okay with his handling of her.
“I’m yours, Mark. Do whatever you’re comfortable with.”
That was all he needed to hear. “I need to see you,” he whispered. He hooked two fingers in the elastic of her panties and swept them down and over her heels. Without a hint of shyness, she widened her legs and gave him a view of what he sought. When she touched herself, he swallowed his tongue again. Then she sucked her glistening finger into her mouth and his brain stuttered to a halt.
When he was able to take a breath and felt relatively confident he could speak, he croaked her name “Sharon.” Trembling, he traced a finger over her glistening center. He wanted to do so many things to her, he just wasn’t sure how.
She shivered at his tentative touch.
He knew if he knelt at the end of the bed, it would be difficult to get up again. There was more than one way to reach this gorgeous siren. He pulled her to the edge and leaned forward, finally able to taste her. She gasped when he kissed her inner thigh, his mouth trailing higher until he swiped her core.
Her moan urged him on. Mark lost himself in her heat. Licking, suckling, and stabbing deeply. She was sweet and spicy, exactly the way he thought she’d taste.