Christ, this woman was amazing. He’d never met a female so open, so honest, so unafraid of laying her feelings out like cards on a table, face up and vulnerable. No wonder Danny had loved her. How could anyone know her and not love her?
How could he take all that she offered and not tell her the rest? Not tell her that it was already too late—he already loved her.
Easily. Oh, so easily.
Because he wasn’t decent. He’d fallen for his best friend’s fiancée. The fact that Danny was dead didn’t make it seem any less like poaching. More like it, in fact.
But this charade wouldn’t last for long. Just a few weeks, and he would tell her the truth. He’d fix up her house, deejay her party, and make sure she was financially secure. Somehow he’d convince her she could love again and then he’d drop the truth bomb.
He was glad she wanted to keep her emotions out of things with him. She’d be able to kick him out of her life without the slightest hesitation. The pain would be all his.
Yeah, her rules made this way too easy.
He stood, reached for her hand and pulled her up out of her seat and into his arms.
“I’ll take the friendship and the physical, if that’s all right with you,” he whispered in her ear, breathing in her scent and trailing kisses down the soft column of her throat to the place where her pulse beat fast against his lips. Her head tipped back to allow him better access and he nipped the tender skin lightly before he covered her mouth and sank into her sweetness.
He would take his time this morning. Make up for last night’s impulsive missteps.
He barely brushed her lips with his, then leaned back to gaze into her eyes. They were already smoky and heavy-lidded. He kissed her again, lightly, lingeringly. She spread her hands on his chest and leaned up to meet his lips. His arms tightened around her, holding her against him as he deepened the kiss and sought entry to her soft mouth. She opened to the thrust of his tongue and met it eagerly, stroking and sliding while she made small sounds in the back of her throat that drove him wild.
Her arms slid around his neck and she pressed herself against him while his hands found their way under her pink tee shirt to the soft skin of her back. He walked her backward two steps and pressed her up against the kitchen counter. While she buried her hands in his hair and squirmed to tease his dick into a level of rigidity rivaling a sequoia, he flicked the clasp on her bra and spilled her luscious breasts into his palms.
Rubbing his thumbs over nipples already taut brought a gasp from her and he felt her knees go weak. So he slid his hands inside her pants, and cupping the smooth cheeks of her butt, he boosted her up onto the counter and proceeded to peel her pants and panties down her long, shapely legs, stopping only to place strategic kisses on her thighs, calves, and ankles.
Not to be outdone, her hands were busy with the zipper of his pants and the brush of her fingers over his cock had him scrambling for the condom in his pocket. It was well over a year since he’d had sex with anyone other than himself, so he knew that despite his best intentions, he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. While he had nothing against having sex up against walls or on kitchen counters, this was not the way he’d dreamed of making love to Amanda—at least the first time.
“Darling, wait,” he groaned, his eyes almost crossing as his erection sprang free and Amanda’s soft hand stroked it from base to tip. “Let’s, ahhh. . .” he panted, “let’s get to your bed before my knees give way.”
“Mmmm . . .” Amanda replied, her breath hot in his ear, as she brought her legs up and wrapped them around his hips. She finished unbuttoning his shirt as he kicked his pants the rest of the way off and started down the short hallway to her bedroom. With his hands supporting her butt, his long fingers edged toward her center, where he felt hot, slick wetness. As soon as his knees hit the edge of the bed, he laid her on the quilt and stripped her shirt over her head, the clip from her hair coming loose and allowing it to tumble over the pillow.
The sight of her, rosy areolas with pebbled pink tips, creamy ivory skin dipping into the delicate curve of her waist, then over the gentle flare of her hips, had him speechless at her perfection. He leaned down and suckled one breast while his fingers teased the opposite nipple and she writhed beneath him gasping, “Yes . . . more . . . there . . . Oh God, don’t stop, don’t stop that.” He was happy to oblige, slipping one finger between her lips to release a flood of wetness as he circled the tiny nub of pleasure at their apex with his thumb.
He wanted to watch her as she came, but knew he couldn’t hold back from plunging into her for long. He slid a second finger inside her and felt her muscles convulse around them as her eyes went wide and her nails scored crescents across his shoulders. His thumb flicked the sensitive nub faster until with a moan she bucked against his hand, losing herself in her release.
He quickly covered himself with the condom then leaned down to kiss her as her eyelids fluttered open.
“Please,” she begged, “I wanted to feel you inside me. Don’t make me wait any longer.” She trailed her fingers over the head of his cock then stroked down its length and caressed his balls. His groan put a self-satisfied smile on her lips and she leaned up and licked first one nipple then the other. “I need you inside me . . . now,” she ordered him.
At her words an almost furious feeling of possession poured through him. He put the tip of his cock at the entrance to her slick heat and in one thrust, sheathed himself inside her.
Mine.
He slowly withdrew and then pushed inside again as she lifted her hips to allow him even deeper access. Again and again, he withdrew, then slowly buried himself to the hilt. The clenching of her muscles around his shaft brought him so much pleasure he could barely maintain control. He slid his hand between them and caressed her, bringing her back to the peak with him. She moaned his name and with swift, hard strokes he tumbled them both over the edge into bliss.
“Mine, please,” he whispered, praying to whatever gods hadn’t deserted him as he emptied himself into her.
Amanda woke up warm for the first time in months. The sensation was so soothing she almost went back to sleep until the reason for all that warmth stirred and tightened his arms around her. She couldn’t stop her little wiggle of delight in response.
“Careful, lady. One more move like that and I’ll consider it an invitation,” Dev murmured, kissing the back of her neck.
That sent shivers down her spine and goosebumps cascading down her arms. This man brought her to a boil with barely a touch. Zoe was right in her assumption. He had very talented hands. And a mouth she couldn’t seem to get enough of.
“From the feel of things, you don’t need any more of an invitation,” she giggled. She couldn’t resist rubbing her tush against the growing evidence of his arousal. That got her a warm hand on her breast and a thumb brushing across its sensitive crest. She sighed as it pebbled and turned toward him to give him easier access to the neglected nipple.
“Guess that was an invitation, after all,” he said, trailing kisses over her shoulders and licking his way to her breast where he suckled hungrily on the rosy tip.
She gasped and arched against him, threading her fingers through the thick, soft brown hair that was already unruly from their earlier lovemaking.
“Ohhh God! Please tell me we didn’t use up your entire supply of condoms.”
His tongue flicking back and forth across the peak was driving her mad with desire. She felt the flood of wetness between her legs and spread her thighs.
“Sorry, Honey.” He kissed his way down her belly to the soft mound of curls covering her clitoris. “I didn’t bring an entire box with me, I’m afraid,” he said, as he spread the tender lips and blew a hot breath over the tiny nub. “We used up the second of the two I brought this morning, so this will have to do for now.”
 
; He nuzzled her and twirled his tongue around her center until she came up off the bed and moaned, her thighs quivering, her body arched tight as a bowstring. Her fingers twisted in the sheets and she realized the strange keening sound she heard was coming from her own throat.
“That’s right, Darling,” he crooned in that velvet voice, “just let go and come for me now. I want to watch you explode.”
He lifted her legs over his shoulders and kneaded her breasts, tweaking her nipples as his mouth devoured her. And she came as he requested, shattering in a million pieces, fireworks sparkling behind her closed lids, exquisite sensation ricocheting through her body.
When the aftershocks had stopped and she was able to see straight, Dev was sitting next to her, tenderly brushing the damp tendrils of her hair out of her eyes. His expression was such a strange mix of satisfaction and longing she didn’t know what to make of it, so she went for a light-hearted response. “I can’t believe you didn’t bring more condoms with you. We’ll have to go shopping.”
That got her a laugh. Thank goodness.
“Well, I didn’t want to appear too presumptuous.” He traced a finger over her lips.
She gave his fingertip a quick kiss and sat up.
In a voice so soft she barely heard him, he marveled, “Who knew I’d get so lucky?”
A little dart of fear shot straight to her heart.
He couldn’t fall in love with her.
He said he wouldn’t. They were only going to do the “friends with benefits” thing. There would be no love involved—on either side.
He promised.
“You’re not going to get all mushy on me, are you?” she demanded, eyes narrowed.
He inspected the evidence that, although she had found release, he obviously hadn’t. “I think it’s safe to say I’m not getting all mushy.”
Instantly contrite, she put her arms around him. “How selfish of me,” she murmured, nipping at his earlobe.
“Hold that thought, darling,” he chuckled. “At least until we do that shopping.” He kissed her lightly on the nose. “Right now, I need sustenance, to, you know, keep up my strength.” The loud rumbling of his stomach confirmed his hunger.
“I guess we’re having pancakes for lunch instead of breakfast,” she said, pointing to the clock radio next to the bed. She tried to remember exactly where she had lost her pants. She suppressed a smile. This man could make her forget her name with a few of his drugging kisses, let alone where her clothes had gone.
Thinking about clothes made her decide that now was as good a time as any to clear up the problem he had letting her see him naked. Although she’d managed to unbutton his shirt and get her hands on his well-muscled chest, he’d kept her from removing it completely. The man was a master at distraction.
“I think we need a shower before lunch,” she said with a coy peek over her shoulder. “Come scrub my back?”
“You go ahead, I’ll . . . clean up the breakfast dishes.”
“Leave the dishes. I have better things for you to wash.” She slipped her hands underneath his shirt and began to slide the fabric down his arms.
He grasped her wrists, holding her hands still against his chest. “Don’t. Believe me, you don’t want to see anything more than you’ve already seen.”
She could feel the tension in his shoulders and see the pain that darkened his green eyes to jade. “I’m not some faint-hearted female who swoons at the sight of a few scars, Dev. If you get to see all of me, I want to see all of you.”
“Well, that’s not gonna happen, darling.” His tone brooked no argument.
“Really,” she said, her eyes mutinous. “That’s a deal-breaker, huh?” She clenched her fists and tugged them out of his grasp. “That’s too bad.”
She went to her closet and put on a terrycloth robe. “I’ll put fresh towels out. You can shower first while I clean up the kitchen. Don’t take too long, the hot water heater has a limited capacity.” She left him sitting on her bed, his stubborn jaw clenched tightly enough to have a muscle jumping in his cheek.
She collected their clothing. Hers went into the hamper. His briefs and slacks she left on top, along with the towels. Then she went to her bedroom door and leaned in. “Okay, you’re all set. I put your clothes in the bathroom, too.”
He sat where she’d left him, left arm cradled against his chest while he rubbed the elbow with his right hand. “Amanda, honey, don’t be mad. You don’t want to see this, trust me,” he declared.
“Dev, please don’t presume to tell me what I do or don’t want to see. You really don’t know me well enough to make that kind of judgment call.”
By the same token, if he couldn’t deal with her seeing his mutilated arm, she didn’t want to force the issue. So she lost the irritation that had crept into her voice and tried for sweet reason. “You don’t want me to see your arm? Fine. That’s your call and I’ll respect that decision. If I’m going to have an affair with you, I’m going to have it with all of you—or none. That’s my decision.” She took a deep breath. “So let’s stick to the ‘friends without benefits’ model that was working pretty well for us and forget the last twenty-four hours ever happened.”
“Fine.” Now it was his turn to sound irritated.
“Okay, then.” Amanda turned and retreated down the hall so he wouldn’t see her disappointment.
She would forget the last twenty-four hours. It was better this way anyway. Her emotions were still too unstable. But the tactile memory of his body pinning hers against the kitchen counter, his erection rigid against her belly, had her nerve endings standing at attention, aching for his touch.
Oh yeah. She’d forget it ever happened.
Dev sat there, amid the rumpled sheets redolent with the scents of sex and Amanda, and wondered how he had managed to go from the luckiest guy in the world to the dumbest in the space of ten minutes. All because he couldn’t bear to see the expression on her face when she got a good view of the ravages to his arm that burning Humvee had wrought.
Sure, she said she could take it, but once she saw the thick, corded scar tissue that covered his left arm from shoulder to fingertips, fish-belly white and pitted with holes still black with embedded debris, she’d change her tune.
He’d seen the expressions before, when he was first released from Walter Reed. Before he learned to wear a glove and long-sleeved shirts out in public.
Man or woman, it was pretty much the same. First came revulsion, the tightening around the eyes, the lips pressed together, the nose slightly wrinkled as though a faint but putrid odor clung to him. Then embarrassment as people realized he saw their reaction. Most folks just hurried away at that point or averted their faces, but some, the stronger ones, seemed proud of the fact that they could tolerate seeing his disfigurement. Their eyes held only pity. Strangely enough, it was kids who had the least problem with it. They usually were just curious until their mothers hurried them away.
So, no. He wasn’t going to let Amanda see. Because he already knew how strong she was and pity was not something he wanted to see in those expressive gray eyes.
He went into her bathroom, took a five-minute shower and dressed, doing his best to smooth the wrinkles out of his shirt.
He hadn’t expected this to be an issue. He’d assumed Amanda would be glad not to have to deal with a part of him that would put a serious damper on the smoking-hot sex they were both anticipating. Now that wouldn’t be a problem.
Could they both pretend the past twenty-four hours hadn’t happened?
Un-ring that bell?
Not a chance in hell, but he’d try his damnedest to act that way. Because the satin of her skin, the faint fragrance of lilacs in her hair, the softness of her mouth, and the sexy sounds she made coming undone under him—those things he’d never forget. He’d treasu
re them forever.
He studied himself in the mirror and straightened his shoulders. Tried on a friendly smile. Shit. He’d have to work on that. He felt like a mannequin, his face stiff and wooden.
Screw it. He couldn’t hide in here forever. He headed for the kitchen.
Funny how cool the little cottage felt to him now, without his overheated libido to keep him warm. Amanda leaned against the sink and gazed out the window. The draft around it was strong enough to stir the curtain on one side. The day was overcast and windy. The sky matched her eyes when she turned to face him, her smile as strained as his.
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