“You don’t have a selfish bone in your body. And my offer stands if you change your mind.” He pushed to his feet, fairly certain her silence and stern expression meant that wasn’t likely to happen.
“I’m not saying no, but I do need to think about it.”
“Fair enough. Come on. I’ll drive you home. We both have to be up early tomorrow.”
Her nod was all the confirmation he needed to prepare himself for a sleepless and lonely night. It wouldn’t be the first and probably not the last. Fortunately, thirty years of pining for her had taught him the true meaning of patience.
Light footfalls mingled with his across the deck and into the kitchen, the only indication she followed him. Heading for the garage, he dug his keys from the front pocket of his khakis.
When he gestured for her to go first through the doorway, she glanced toward the ceiling. “I almost forgot. I left my tote upstairs. It has my keys and my phone in it.”
“You can go ahead out to the truck while I run up and get it. Doors are unlocked.” Grateful for an excuse to wallow in self-pity for a minute, he hurried to the living room and up the stairs.
Although moonlight through the window shone across the bed, he flipped on the switch for his bedside lamp as he entered the bedroom. She wouldn’t appreciate him missing any of her belongings, especially if she didn’t want to see him again after tonight’s awkwardness. She probably thought the only reason he’d suggested trying the real thing first was to get in her pants.
Okay, she’s half right, just not for the reasons she thinks.
Man, I thought tonight was finally going to be the night, not that telling her I love her so soon is a good idea.
He dropped his keys next to her bag and put her purse inside with her sunglasses and the John Deere cap he’d given her. Much to his surprise, she’d worn the cap until the sun had set and she’d come inside for her jacket.
“Jim?”
He jumped at her voice and the straps slipped from his fingers, letting the tote fall onto the bed. His keys bounced onto the floor and under the edge of the bed, out of sight. “Yeah, Tate? Did you forget something else?”
She unzipped her jacket as she stepped into the room. “Yes, I did. I forgot that it’s okay to be a woman with normal needs and desires. And I… It’s like this. I want you.”
“Me?” A swell of hope surged through every part of his body before he could consider her meaning. He groaned. “Baby?”
She stopped less than an arm’s length from him, letting the outer layer slide off her shoulders. Then it landed at her feet. “Both, but I want you more right now. I started to go into the garage, but all I could think about was the way you kissed me and how wonderful it felt to have your hand on my bare skin. For the first time in a long time, I feel wanted and appreciated by a man.”
“I, uh… You… We…” With all his blood rushing south, the likelihood that he’d regain the ability to form a coherent thought or speak anytime soon was slim.
“Yes. We.” She placed her open palm on his chest and kicked off her shoes. Her feet looked tiny next to his size-sixteen hiking boots. “I’d like to stay the night, if you haven’t changed your mind. You haven’t, have you?”
Certain she could feel his heart pounding through his ribs, he shook his head. “Nope.”
Her relieved smile said she didn’t care that he sounded like an illiterate Neanderthal, replying in one-syllable words and grunts. “Thanks for understanding. This is easier than I thought it would be. It must be because of you. You’re kind and sweet, and I truly like you.”
A kiss seemed far more effective than another nod or grunt at communicating his pleasure, even if his case of nerves was worse now than when he’d picked her up that afternoon. He leaned in, closing the space between them, and touched his lips to hers. The first light caress led to another and another.
Heaven.
Then her hands slid into his hair as she pulled him closer still and welcomed him into her mouth. Each slow glide of her tongue drained the worries from his mind, transforming the fantasy he’d cultivated into a reality. She wasn’t solely motivated by her brothers’ presence or the desire to have a baby. She wanted him.
Just me.
Her breath warmed his neck when she eased away. “You seem distracted. Are you having second thoughts?”
“No!” Panic gripped his brain and flooded his veins. “Are you?”
“No.” She gave him a gentle peck on the cheek. “But I think we might both be a little nervous.”
“Nervous. Yeah.” The rollercoaster of yeses and nos had taken a whooshing uphill climb and teetered on the top of a mountainous peak that would lead to a high-speed bottom-of-the-hill crash if she had another change of heart.
“Maybe we need to start with another kiss and untucking my shirt. You know, like in the garage.” She licked her lips, pushing the tightness against his zipper up another notch. “Will you help me undress?”
“I can do that.” He gave her shirt a gentle tug and eased his palm along her waist to her spine, finding the same band of lace his fingers had discovered earlier. He froze at her shuddering breath when he circled to her ribs. “Are my hands too rough? I work outside a lot and—”
“They feel nice.” She guided them upward to the clasp between her breasts. “I think this is what you’re looking for. How about if I take my top off first?”
A nod was all he could manage.
She unbuttoned her shirt far faster than his fumbling fingers could have, revealing a deep valley flanked by matching knolls of flesh and wide swaths of smooth skin above and below. Only a modest amount of lace remained when she shrugged away the outer layer.
Swallowing hard, he flicked open the catch. The cups clung to her curves, daring him to free her breasts. “Beautiful.”
A faint blush spread from her chest to her cheeks, suggesting she hadn’t been complimented nearly enough.
“You are.” He slipped the straps past her shoulders and let gravity do its work. When her bra fell to the floor, an involuntary sigh escaped. His daydreams paled in comparison to the real Tate. “Beautiful. Gorgeous. Breathtaking.”
Color still tinting her fair skin, she looked away and pulled his shirt from his khakis. Her fingertips grazed his abs, stealing his breath again. “Your turn. Might as well take off your boots and pants too.”
“Okay.” He yanked the walking advertisement for his farm over his head, turning the sleeves inside out in his hurry. Then he made quick work of all but his underwear. When he straightened, she stepped out of a pair of lace panties the same shade of green as her bra. “You’re naked.”
“You’re not.” A mischievous grin chased away the blush. “Wow. You’re built like Dwayne Johnson—but with hair. And no tattoos.”
“The Rock was my idol when I was a kid.” He willed himself to stay relaxed instead of striking a bodybuilding pose. She didn’t seem the type to like showoffs. “That was a compliment, right?”
“Definitely.” She flipped back the covers and crawled into bed. “Want to join me?”
At her invitation, his muscles sprang into action, taking him to the other side in record time. “Definitely.”
Her gaze dropped from his to someplace below his waist. “I don’t think you need the boxers anymore.”
Chapter 8
Lord, have mercy.
Tate blinked at the bulge growing in front of her eyes and swallowed to keep from drooling down her chin. If she’d known this would be her reward for all those years of disappointment, she would’ve found a way to move back to Wellington when her divorce was finalized instead of waiting nearly three years to build up her savings.
With his thumbs hooked under the waistband, Jim shoved his form-hugging boxer briefs toward his hips. A bit of stretching eased the elastic past the massive lump and his erection popped free, evidently none the worse for wear from their earlier mishap. “Are you okay? You’re breathing kind of hard.”
She smiled up at him,
happier than she’d been in ages. Every inch of her body tingled, ready to make up for lost time and opportunities. “Perfect.”
He resumed his task and then stopped again with his underwear around his thighs. “Did you want me to use a condom this time? I have some.”
The moment of truth had finally arrived. She had to choose between Jim Cochon fathering her baby or some anonymous sperm donor she had only a profile to go by. “If we don’t, that means I could get pregnant.”
“Yeah, but we talked about that. You said you’ll be ovulating soon. So, like in a week? A few days?” His erection bobbed at her, daring her to try forcing it into a latex overcoat.
“I, um, I’m not sure. Things have been hectic the past few months with moving and opening the café. I don’t know for sure.”
He slid his briefs the rest of the way down his legs and sat on the edge of the bed, giving her an amazing view of his back muscles and buns of steel. The mattress bounced as he slipped under the covers. “Maybe it’s better that way. We can just enjoy each other. Like a scrimmage. No pressure.”
Enjoy. A practice run.
If he made love as well as he kissed, enjoyment wouldn’t be an issue. Attentiveness had been his strongest point throughout their date.
Okay. Here goes.
She eased her leg into his space, searching for a foot, a calf, or a thigh to explore. Any part of him would do.
The bed wiggled again as he rolled toward her, putting their faces inches apart. A furrow creased his forehead directly below one of his wayward curls. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”
“Seems like the logical first step since we’re here. In bed. Naked.” She released the sheet she’d been holding to her breasts and slipped her fingers into his hair. “Plus, I’ll be very disappointed if you don’t.”
“I don’t want to disappoint you.” He leaned in, starting with a barely there kiss and then gliding his tongue along her lower lip.
She welcomed him inside, pulling him closer still until his chest touched her nipples. The skin-to-skin contact stole every bit of oxygen from her lungs, but it lit her body on fire. Each slow stroke of his tongue along hers promised a night deserving of getting caught sneaking home bright and early in day-old clothes.
His palm spread over her lower back, aligning his body with hers like he had in the garage. The outline of his erection against her leg promised he wouldn’t leave her wanting more, unless it was round two. Then he eased his thigh between hers and his fingertips glided over her bottom to her hip, the gentle exploration making her breath hitch and goose bumps scatter over every inch of her skin.
He froze with his hand at the back of her knee. “Did I do something wrong?”
A whimper snuck out before she could consider how he might interpret it. “Oh gosh, no. Except you stopped. I liked what you were doing.”
He exhaled and rested his forehead against hers. “Sorry.”
“No apology necessary.” Snuggling closer, she moved his hand back to her thigh. “I think we’re both still nervous.”
“I just want everything to be perfect.”
Why couldn’t she have met a man like him before she’d wasted nearly half her life on a lying cheater? “It is. I’ll let you know if I’m not enjoying what you’re doing.”
“Okay.”
“And you’ll tell me if—”
“You can do whatever you want to me. I’m all yours.” He rolled onto his back, taking her with him.
“Careful!” She kicked her leg straight out to keep from kneeing him in the same place she’d landed earlier and whacked her ankle on what seemed to be his shin. “Ouch!”
In a smooth motion, he shifted her sideways and threw off the covers. A second later, he knelt at the other end of the bed with her feet cradled against his chest. “Are you okay? Which one hurts? You know what? It doesn’t matter. I’ll kiss them both until you feel better.”
The awareness of her utter nudity vanished with the first touch of his lips on her arch and another glimpse at his truly spectacular body. Each successive kiss brought him closer to her thigh, but then he started all over with the other foot, igniting flames that would surely consume her before he reached his destination—wherever that happened to be.
He hooked her legs over his shoulders and nuzzled her inner thigh, the beard stubble on his jaw sparking tingles in her lower belly. “Is this helping the pain?”
A long, low moan rumbled up through her throat on an exhale. “Pain? What pain?”
“Does that mean I should stop?” His chuckle chased away any reservations she had about her decision.
She flexed her thighs and shook her head. “Don’t you dare.”
He smiled as he slid his hands down to cup her bottom. “So you won’t mind a little foreplay? I’m not into wham-bamming and quickies. What’s the point of making love to somebody if it’s over before you even get started?”
Her heart stuttered, adding to her breathlessness and the wonderful sensations zinging through her body. Had sex ever transported her this far past clinical? “Foreplay would be very nice.”
His slightly bristly whiskers feathered over her skin as he nibbled a meandering path toward the needy ache. He once again switched to her other leg before he reached it, intensifying the need to be touched there until her muscles shook. Looking up at her with more desire in his eyes than any man ever had, he slipped his hands along her waist to her ribs and to her breasts, gently cupping them like he was afraid she might break. Then he kissed the folds she wished he would part with his fingers, his tongue, his erection.
She arched her hips and released the moan tickling her throat.
“Can I taste you?” His husky voice caressed her nerve endings, adding to the sweet overload of sensation.
“Yes. Oh God, please, yes.” Finally, something in her life was worth begging for. She guided his hands to her nipples, needing more of him. “Taste me. Touch me. All of it.”
The heat in his stare flared and he nodded once before his mouth devoured her—kissing, licking, sucking. His fingers strummed her flesh, sending an electric current from her breasts to her clit.
She forced her eyelids open, trying to wallow in the pure decadence and stay connected with his worshipful gaze. Or was it simply lust?
She could live with that, especially considering the immense sexual satisfaction rushing over her from his amazing tongue and hands. Suspended in the endless moment between unbearable bliss and orgasm, she fought to fill her lungs through rough cries she barely recognized as her own. A growl vibrated through her pelvis, sending her over the edge into ecstasy that seemed to go on forever.
Before she floated down to reality, he brushed her hair from her face and stared into her eyes as he slowly pushed inside her, filling her so completely she couldn’t imagine ever experiencing sex like this again.
“Ready to make a baby?” He sounded awed by the possibility, as if he truly wanted to give her that gift.
“Yes.” Threading her fingers into his curls, she pulled him down for a kiss. Who cared if she hadn’t caught her breath yet? Air was far less important than this, than him.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, somehow pulling him deeper still, and matched the easy in-and-out tempo he set for their bodies with her tongue against his.
Synchronized. In tune.
Twelve years in a farce of a marriage hadn’t yielded one instance of lovemaking that compared to what Jim was giving her—selfless attention that could easily let her fantasize she was his whole world, someone he couldn’t live without, that she was utterly and truly loved.
Thought faded away with the steady rhythm, the slowly rebuilding pleasure, and the measured weight of his body on hers. This was how it was supposed to be.
He panted against her chin as he broke off the kiss, but his lips caressed her cheek and then her ear a moment later. “Is this okay, Tate? I want you to feel as incredible as I do.”
She smoothed her palm down his neck to his shoulder blad
e, amazed that a man this strong could be so gentle and caring. With his next leisurely thrust, she rocked her hips upward to meet him. The motion changed the location of impact, triggering a tremor and a weightless sensation that promised even greater gratification than the first time. “Amazing, Jim.”
His rumbling groan assured her he’d felt something too. “I don’t think I can last much longer.”
“You don’t have to.” She met him halfway again, gasping when he hit the same spot. “Now…would be good.”
He wedged his knees under her hips and quickened his pace, his face still buried in her hair. The wonderful friction carried her higher, but the earthy, animalistic sounds tumbling out of him as he stiffened sent her flying. A burst of heat warmed her insides and she struggled to guide his lips to hers. She wanted—and needed—that connection, to thank him for and share the joy he’d given her.
Her throat stung, suggesting she’d been more vocal than normal, so she tried for a whisper. “I want to kiss you.”
“I want to kiss you too.” A light peck on her jaw led to another on her cheek, the tip of her nose, and finally her lips. The soft caress became a slow making-love-to-her-mouth kiss that she wished would never end. He raised his head, giving her a peek at his dreamy smile. “I could stay like this forever.”
As melty as her bones were at the moment, it was a distinct possibility. “The chances of conception may increase slightly if I lie on my back for fifteen minutes after intercourse. Your little swimmers don’t have to fight gravity.”
“Better block them inside then too. Don’t want anybody to escape, not that they should want to try to leave the exceptional home we gave them.” He closed his eyes and touched his forehead to hers. “We should do it again every few hours until morning, just in case this time didn’t work.”
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