Long-Lost Mom

by Jill Shalvis

  “It must be painful.”

  What was painful was how much he wanted her. His arousal pressed against the fastenings of his pants, threatening to cut off vital circulation. “It’ll heal,” he rasped, nearly swallowing his tongue when her hands slid down a bit, running over his hips.

  “Stone?” she whispered, bold and incredibly shy at the same time, which was a sharp turn-on for reasons Stone didn’t want to examine.

  He was a man who, ever since Jenna left, only liked sophisticated women, preferably ones looking for no more or less than what he was willing to give. But he knew that this, with her, was different, and if they continued, nothing would ever be quite the same between them again.

  Maybe a better man could have resisted, but Stone felt overwhelmed, uncharacteristically out of control, and he couldn’t have turned from her to save his life.

  “The door,” he murmured, pulling away long enough to walk through his office to the outer shop, where he locked the front door.

  Bolting the office door, as well, he reached for her again, then was surprised when she flipped off the lights and plunged them into complete blackness.

  “No one can come in now,” he assured her, bringing her back into the circle of his arms, loving the feel of having her there. Slender and willowy, yet with wonderful curves in all the places that mattered, she was a dream come true.

  His dream, and not only did he want to see her, he wanted her to be just as certain as he was. “No one will bother us. We’re safe in here.”

  “I know. I just...” Burying her face in his neck, she went mute and hugged him tight, apparently embarrassed.

  He had no idea why she would want the anonymity of the dark. Maybe she was shy. Maybe she had something she wanted to keep covered, like a tattoo.

  Which brought back, quite vividly, visions of another woman, a lifetime ago. Jenna, and her own discomfort in the dark, for she’d gotten a small rose tattooed on her hip, and she’d hated it. It had embarrassed her, but she’d been stuck with it.

  Stone had never been able to convince her that he didn’t care about a damn tattoo, he just cared about her.

  But Jenna had no place here, no place at all.

  Cindy did, and she wanted the dark, which was a small request. It shouldn’t matter, but somehow it did. It’d been so long for him, too long, and even then, he couldn’t remember it being like this. He wanted it to be real. Honest. And he wanted to be able to look at her.

  “Do... do you hate the dark?” she questioned softly.

  It was the scars, he realized suddenly, hoping for her sake that there weren’t more than he’d already seen. She was trembling now, and he held her close. “It’s all right,” he murmured. “It’s all right. We’ll just—”

  “No,” she said quickly, urgently, pulling him closer. “Please, I want this. I want you. It’s just that—it’s been so long.”

  His chest tightened because he found her admission unbearably moving. “It’s been a long time for me, too.”

  And there in the dark, amidst his grief and fear and incredible hunger and need, they came together.

  The embrace of her body was as perfect as the embrace of her emotions. Wishing he could see her expression, he touched her face.

  “Love me,” she whispered.

  “Yes.”

  His name sighed from her lips, both a question and a prayer. In answer, Stone streaked his hands beneath her blouse, cupping her breasts, feeling the tips harden against his palms. With a rough needy sound in his throat, he peeled away the material of her top and bra and took her into his mouth, making them both moan. She was soft and warm and tasted like heaven, and her sweet body drew things from him he’d forgotten existed. But he would have given it up just to see her face, and to know she was feeling everything he was.

  Jenna tried to speak, and ended up murmuring something unintelligible. She was stunned because she’d had no idea how powerful, how absolutely right it would feel to be with him again like this. It was the same, yet subtly different. Maybe it was their maturity; maybe it was simply that even in this short amount of time she’d grown to care about him so much more than she’d ever been capable of before.

  She didn’t understand, only knew that whatever it was, it made her weak and strong, needy and sure all at the same time. That Stone was trembling, too, made it even more poignant, and she touched his tense jaw. He spread her thighs and pulled her in closer until their bodies were flush, until he’d nestled her warmest neediest part to the warmest neediest part of him.

  She gasped and he shuddered, tightening his hold on her. Raising his head, he kissed her mouth again, and then again, while rocking his hips slowly and purposely against hers, until lights danced in her head and her body was on fire.

  She needed to tell him the truth before complicating everything with yet another deception, but she wanted him and the wanting went so much deeper than the physical. It was surging, fierce and undeniable.

  “Stone.”

  “I know, I know.”

  “Please, now.”

  He reached around her and shoved whatever he had on the desk to the floor. Lifting her, he set her on the cool surface. The dark consumed them, yet her eyes had adjusted enough that she could see his body loom close, and she knew a true spark of regret that they couldn’t do this properly, in the light, with honest emotions flowing.

  How she wanted that, but if he caught a glimpse of that damn tattoo she hated, he would know the truth.

  And he would never forgive her.

  He was looking at her now, and though she had no way of seeing his expression, she knew it would be powerful, piercing. His eyes would be boring into hers almost painfully, forcing her into the intimacy of what they were doing, because with Stone it was all or nothing.

  Gently he laid her back, stretching her out on the desk.

  “This should be on a bed.”

  Afraid he would stop, she reached for him, unable to get enough of how he felt, so hot and hard and wonderful, beneath her fingers. “Please—”

  “Wait, Cindy—”

  “Don’t you want me?”

  A rough laugh escaped from him. “Cindy, I want you more than I want my next breath.”

  Pushing aside her blouse and bra, he cupped her breasts, making a very male appreciative sound that turned her on every bit as much as his touch did. Dipping his head to an upturned aching nipple, Stone danced his hands up her thighs, bringing up the hem of her skirt as he went, until he’d reached her restlessly shifting hips. She’d thought it difficult to breathe before, but then he skimmed those long fingers over her panties. Hooking them with his thumbs, he tugged them off, leaving her bare, trembling and completely exposed, and more needy than she’d ever been in her life.

  “I wish I could see you.” He dropped to his knees, startling her, then pressed her legs wide apart with his big hands and kissed her. There, oh, there.

  Nobody had done this to her since... since him, and the sensations that swamped her were all the stronger for the new emotional bond they’d shared. Slowly, deliberately, he proceeded to drive her absolutely out of her mind, first with his tongue, then his teeth, grazing, sucking, nibbling until her entire world shrank to this one little pinnacle of delight.

  Her sweaty palms slipped off the desk. “Stone?”

  He murmured encouragingly and held her hips in his big hands, soothing and exciting her at the same time. She started to shake—not small graceful quivers, but huge racking tremors she couldn’t control. She couldn’t even be embarrassed. She’d never been so far on the edge. Sitting up, she shoved her wild hair from her face, grabbed Stone and yanked him close. “Now.” Desperate, she tore at the buttons of his fly. “Please. Be inside me when I—”

  “Yes.” Just as desperate, Stone managed to undo himself, but it was Jenna who pushed his pants down over his hips. Hungrily she reached for the part of him that was hot and heavy and all hers. Marveling over this, dizzy with it, she directed him to her.

>   At that first heavenly touch of her heat to his, they both gasped. “Wait.” Stone dropped his forehead to hers, panting. “Wait. We need protection,” he said desperately, moving away.

  She could hear him, slamming through drawers and cursing in the dark. He let out a triumphant sound. Then he was back, towering over her in the dark, his eyes glittering. “Found it,” he whispered with relief. “Tell me, please, that you don’t have an aversion to...ah, plaid.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind.”

  She heard a rustling, and blushed. She’d been so far gone, she hadn’t remembered. “You...carry around a...”

  “An old friend sent it as a joke—Never mind,” he said. “Let’s just be grateful and hope it holds, because he didn’t send a spare.” He bracketed her hips with his hands, whispered her name and entered her with one sure thrust.

  Pleasure exploded, rendering her deaf, dumb and blind at the incredible feel of him inside her once again. He was hard and huge, and she was wet and ready, and so snug she fit him like a glove. At the soft sound she made, his head whipped up, and there in the dark, she could feel the weight of that stare. She could hear their ragged breathing, imagine the flush on her cheeks, could feel the utter strength of him surrounding her, and she had to bite her lip hard to keep from crying out.

  “Don’t...hold back,” he said, touching her face. “Not from me.”

  As if she could. When he moved she let out the cry that wouldn’t stay contained. “I can’t.”

  Holding on to her hips, he pushed deep, then deeper still, until he had no more to give, and she cried out again, for she’d never felt such intense pleasure. She knew he felt the same when he pressed his face into her neck and moaned. “Just being inside you makes me want to come. Cin—”

  Unable to bear that awful name on his lips, not now when he was so far inside her she couldn’t tell where he ended and she began, she quickly lifted her face, seeking out his mouth, kissing him fiercely.

  “You’re so lovely,” he told her in a thick husky growl she found incredibly sexy, his arms slipping around her so that his hands could cup her buttocks and pull her closer. “And mine.”

  “Not lovely.” But, oh, how she wanted to be his.

  “You’re perfect.”

  And in that moment she felt it, and nothing, nothing had ever meant so much as this unexpected gift of her beauty. He began to move, and she raised her hips to meet his smooth thrusts. Each one took her higher, and she went with it, unable to deny herself the overwhelming glimpse of heaven just beyond.

  Her orgasm was long and shuddery and wonderful. Stone buried his face in the crook of her damp neck and followed her into oblivion.

  For a long time neither of them moved.

  He hadn’t quite gotten the hang of dragging air back into his lungs when Cindy pulled away.

  Cursing the darkness and the loss of her wonderful body heat, Stone reached for her. “Don’t,” he said. He wrapped his arms around her and rocked. Sinking back against the desk with her between his spread thighs, he tried to find the right words to reach her. “Don’t regret it. Don’t pull away now—” She leaned back toward him, and she seemed to gain comfort in his arms, so he tightened them and realized that what they’d just shared had been heartbreakingly perfect.

  For a long few moments, they remained still.

  Then she spoke in a soft husky whisper. “Did what we just did help make you—feel better? About your brother and your family?”

  “It made a dent, yeah.” He gave her a warm smile. “A big one.”

  “I’m glad.” She burrowed closer and swallowed hard. “I just don’t want...this reduced to...” “To what?”

  “To...a one-night stand. Or a mistake.”

  “Never.” He didn’t let her go. “It was too intense.”

  “And good?” As soon as the words escaped her, she moaned, immediately covering his mouth with her hand. “No! Don’t say anything, I can’t believe I asked. Aaah, just forget it! Forget everything.”

  Pulling her hand away from his mouth, he laughed and gave her a hard possessive kiss. “If it’d been any better, you’d have killed me. No way am I ever going to forget what just happened, and you won’t convince me you could, either.”

  She sagged against him, throwing her arms around his neck, squeezing him tight, as if she didn’t want to ever let go. Fine with him, he didn’t want to let her go, either.

  He felt her tremble. “You okay?” He ran a hand down her back.

  “I’m fine, just...”

  She didn’t finish, but held on as if her life depended on it. Stone realized she was gripping him as if she expected to be turned away.

  It struck him how little he really knew about her and how much more he wanted to. He wanted this woman in his life. “I’ve got you,” he assured her. Cradling her in his arms, he gently smoothed back her hair from her face, then swore softly because he couldn’t see a damn thing. “I’ve got you,” he promised. “And I’m not letting go, okay?”

  She nodded, but he wasn’t satisfied. Couldn’t be until he told her how he felt.

  “The light,” he decided. “We’ll have it on now.” He shifted to reach for the switch, but she made a sound of refusal. Cupping her face, he stroked her lower lip with his thumb. “I want to see you, Cindy.” He gave her a soft kiss. “I’m not used to this. I don’t like letting you hide from me.”

  “It’s just that...” She gulped in a breath, then let it out loudly. “Look, I know it was strange that I insisted on the dark, and I really wanted to explain that first, before we... But then you kissed me, and...and I hadn’t kissed like that in so long,” she confessed. “And you can really, really kiss. I sort of got lost in it all and how you felt and, oh, how you looked without your shirt....”

  He’d struggled to follow every halting word, then started to smile at what he thought she might be trying to say, but she groaned theatrically. “Could you just kiss me, kiss me quick and shut me up?”

  “Mmm.” Finally something that made perfect sense. “Gladly, sweetheart.” And tipping up her face with his hand, he did, and it was as emotionally wrenching as their lovemaking had been.

  When they were both breathless, he rose with her still in his arms, walked to the door and flipped on the light.

  Quickly, almost ridiculously shy given what they’d just shared, Cindy jerked down her skirt to cover her hips, but she wasn’t quite quick enough to tug her open blouse closed.

  “I want you again.”

  She bit her lip, adorably flushed. “You do?”

  “Yeah.” He let her slide slowly down his body, enjoying the way her breath quickened when she felt him get hard again. “But not here, not like this. Next time—” he paused to kiss her until she was clinging again “—next time it’s with soft sheets and moonlight and music.”

  “Next time?”

  Staring down into her eyes, he traced her jaw. “There is going to be one. You know that, Cindy.” He bent, kissing her soft lips, but she’d gone rigid at the sound of her name on his lips.

  “No,” she whispered. “Oh, no.”

  “What is it?”

  Mute, Jenna stared up at him.

  “Hey,” Stone said softly, touching her hot face with his cool hands. “What could you possibly be thinking about?”

  She’d blown it. She’d come back to town to right all her wrongs, to fix her life. To be good, to herself and others.

  And she’d destroyed any hope of that because she still couldn’t control her hormones when it came to Stone.

  “Nothing,” she managed, withdrawing from him. She struggled with the buttons on her blouse; suddenly her fingers wouldn’t work. She could feel the awkward bunch of her bra, which she hadn’t fastened first. “Dammit,” she whispered, nearly choking on the humiliation she would certainly feel when she finally told him who she was. Much as she wanted to cry out the truth now, she couldn’t. Not after this. He’d think she’d planned it to soften him up for the
news.

  “Here.” Stone gently pushed her ineffective fingers aside and turned her away from him. His hands encircled her neck, then slid beneath the material of her blouse to flirt with her collarbone. Slowly he slid the blouse down off her shoulders until her arms were trapped at her sides, the blouse at her elbows.

  “Stone,” she breathed, clasping the material to her exposed breasts. “I—”

  His mouth settled on one shoulder, halting her words as heat spiraled through her again. She felt his hands slip down to her waist, where they lingered for a minute, spreading wide to brush against the sides of her breasts. Swaying, Jenna closed her eyes, unable to speak, much less think.

  Then those wonderful talented hands traveled leisurely up her spine, where they easily gathered her bra, straightened it out and then fastened it.

  With one last wet openmouthed kiss on her tingling skin, halfway between her shoulder and her neck, Stone lifted his head, drew a sharp breath and let out a heartfelt oath.

  She knew just how he felt.

  He turned her around to face him, his eyes hot with the knowledge he’d again reduced her to a boneless mass of jelly. He buttoned up her blouse, his fingers sure and strong.

  “Th-thanks,” she stuttered. “I’ve... I’ve got to...” What? What did she have to do? She couldn’t possibly remember now. “I’ve got to go. Bye.”

  Cringing at how ridiculously juvenile she sounded, she whirled and ran out of his office, through his workshop and out into the bright of day.

  “Good heavens,” she muttered, rubbing her chest in an effort to still her pounding heart. That man could seduce the dead.

  And Jenna was many things, but she wasn’t dead.

  Chapter 7

  The next morning Sara practically inhaled her oatmeal as Stone watched, both alarmed and amused at his daughter’s ability to chug down food.

  Had he taught her to do that? They were going to have to work harder on manners, not something that had been particularly high on the list of their survival tactics.

  “Mmm,” she said, dripping milk out a corner of her mouth, which she promptly chased away with her sleeve. The food continued to disappear at a shocking rate. “The cereal is good this time, Daddy. No lumps.”