Lead Me Home

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “Matthew, I can’t get the tray to sit straight. Something’s…” She started to laugh. “Something’s in the way. I wonder what it could be?”

  “Yeah, I wonder. You walk in here looking like a Playboy centerfold and then you want to set a bed tray down on my lap. That tray’s little legs aren’t high enough to accommodate the issue, Aurelia.”

  She was laughing so hard she was threatening to spill the entire tray, juicy steak and all, onto the bed. He took it from her. “Let me handle this.” He set it next to him, making sure that it was steady before he let go. Then he climbed out of bed, erection and all. “You see what we’re dealing with here.”

  Tears ran down her rosy cheeks. “Yes,” she said, gasping for breath. “And I have to admit I didn’t factor that into this dinner-in-bed concept. I just thought I’d give you a little thrill along with your meal.”

  “Turns out it was a really big thrill.”

  “I can see that.” She glanced at his rigid penis and clutched her sides in helpless laughter. “Maybe if we set some books under the legs of the tray, it won’t wobble and you can…” But she couldn’t finish the sentence because she was doubled over with the hilarity of it all.

  He saw the humor in the situation, but it was his pride and joy giving her hysterics, and he’d rather have the woman he was with be struck with reverence and awe than practically rolling on the floor at the sight of… And that’s when he decided what to do.

  Reaching behind the lamp, he located the condom and put it on.

  She noticed, which was a step in the right direction. “Matthew?”

  “I thought we’d be doing this on the bed next time.” With one arm around her shoulders and the other behind her knees, he scooped her up easily and laid her down on the braided rug. “But apparently not.”

  She still had the giggles. “The floor? With a bed right there, you’re going to—” Her eyes widened as he stripped away her thong in one quick movement. “I guess you are.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” His first thrust lifted her off the rug, but then he settled into a more gentle rhythm. And after that first protest, she didn’t seem to mind a bit that they were flat on the floor.

  In fact, she got into it, wrapping her legs around his waist and rising to meet him with each stroke. Arms braced on either side of her shoulders, he gazed down at her, entranced by finally being able to look into her green eyes as they turned dark with excitement.

  Her skin blushed pink, and their wild movements had set her breasts free of the blouse. They spilled out in all their glory, her nipples wine-red and tight with passion. Slowing his pace even more, he leaned down and closed his mouth over one tempting nub.

  As he sucked rhythmically, he felt her first spasm roll over his cock. Restraining his own orgasm, he kept his mouth at her breast as he stroked deeper, coaxing her higher and higher yet. At last he nipped lightly at her breast and she came in a rush, her body arching off the rug and quivering beneath him.

  Releasing her nipple, he shifted his angle and pumped faster. “One more.” His vocal cords felt like sandpaper. “Do that again.”

  Her surrender was beautiful to watch. She abandoned her inhibitions and begged him to go faster as she clutched his hips. She writhed beneath him, thrashing her head from side to side, reaching for that next explosion, and when he gave it to her, he came, too, burying himself in her pulsing center as he murmured her name over and over, and over again.

  They lay on the rug, limp and spent, for a very long time. The thought drifted through his mind that maybe Aurelia wasn’t the only one at risk for a broken heart. It was a soft warning, not an urgent one, and he chose to push it aside. This was good, very good, but he could learn to live without it. Of course he could.

  At last he propped himself up on his elbow and started fiddling with the knot she’d made in order to hold her blouse together. She lay beneath him, eyes closed and arms flung out to her sides, while he labored over the knot. He wanted the blouse gone. He craved seeing Aurelia naked in the soft glow of the bedside lamps.

  She stirred, although her eyes remained closed. But her full mouth tilted in a smile. “There’s an easier way.”

  “I’ve almost got it.”

  “If I lift my arms up, you can pull it over my head.”

  It was a testament to his lust-soaked brain that he hadn’t thought of that. “Then please lift your arms up, because I want you naked and totally accessible.”

  As she raised her arms over her head, her eyes opened slowly, revealing banked fires. “And why, exactly, do you need me to be totally accessible?”

  “So I can inspect the goods.” He worked the blouse upward, but it took a while, because he had to keep stopping to kiss her warm skin along the way. She was a marvel, a delicacy, a feast the likes of which he hadn’t experienced in his quest for lean, tough, undomesticated women. Aurelia was so incredibly soft.

  “You do realize your steak is getting cold.”

  He’d forgotten completely about the steak, which he’d made a big deal out of earlier, and she’d taken great pains to warm it and serve it to him. True, she’d sabotaged the effort by showing up looking like a wet dream, but she hadn’t factored in the logistics.

  The bottom line was that he needed to eat that steak. He finally divested her of the blouse, which meant she was as accessible as he could ever want. The sight of her lying there in the lamplight caused his cock to stir restlessly again.

  But if he didn’t eat the steak and give the food the attention it deserved, she might be insulted, and an insulted lover wasn’t a happy lover. He’d eaten in enough high-end restaurants to know that cooks were a temperamental lot.

  He’d have to make sure that she knew he was crazy about what she’d fixed for him. In order to do that, he’d have to use all his powers of concentration so that he wouldn’t abandon the food in favor of the woman.

  “Tell you what,” he said. “I need to take care of a little chore connected to the fun we just had. When I get back from the bathroom, that tray should fit over my lap at least long enough for me to enjoy the steak you saved for me. I really do want it.”

  She met his gaze. “It’s still juicy, but it won’t be hot.”

  He gave her a long, slow kiss before easing away from her. “I’m sure it will be absolutely wonderful. I can hardly wait.”

  10

  AURELIA TREATED HERSELF to the view of Matthew’s tight buns as he walked into the bathroom. Then she picked up the thong he’d stripped off and the blouse he’d pulled over her head. Her body hummed with lingering vibrations from two spectacular climaxes. As a woman, she reveled in the pleasure he’d given her, but as a chef, she fretted that his steak would no longer be the optimal temperature.

  It was a challenge pleasing a man sexually and gastronomically when he wanted both pleasures delivered at approximately the same time. From now on she would make an effort to space them further apart. That might be tricky to do, though, when they were so hungry for each other.

  When he walked back into the bedroom, she forgot her worries about the temperature of the steak. Seeing Matthew Tredway naked would wipe all logical thought out of any woman’s mind. His wide shoulders and broad chest represented a solid strength that a man like Matthew would use to defend the weak and the vulnerable. She was neither, but admired him for it, nevertheless.

  He glanced at the tray perched on the bed. “That wine will go great with the steak, but—”

  “That’s right. You don’t like to drink alone.”

  “Not if there’s an alternative.”

  She opened her closet door and grabbed a white cotton bathrobe. “I’ll be right back with another glass.” She didn’t think walking naked through the kitchen was a good idea, even if everyone was supposed to be tucked in for the night.

  “Bring the bottle,” he called out after her.

  She smiled to herself. If anyone happened to be within earshot of that remark, they’d know immediately what was going on in the cook’s
apartment. Aurelia thought Sarah and Pete knew, anyway. But she didn’t want any of the teenagers to figure it out.

  Fortunately the kitchen was empty and the house was quiet. She could just barely hear a hip-hop number that was probably coming from an iPod speaker upstairs, but the house was so big and the walls so thick that it seemed very far away.

  She’d loved that about the ranch house from her first day here. Her apartment building back home in Nebraska allowed her to hear far more of her neighbors’ activities than she cared to. She was saving for a house of her own, but she didn’t have a down payment that satisfied her yet.

  She wondered if Matthew had some sort of residence or if he lived out of a post office box. She decided to ask him, because it seemed like the sort of thing she should know about a man she was sleeping with.

  Armed with the bottle and a second glass, she returned to the bedroom and found Matthew back in bed with the tray balanced perfectly on his lap.

  He glanced up with a smile. “See? It works fine.”

  “It does, at that.” She walked over to the other side of the bed and set the wine and her glass on the lamp table. Then she started to slip off her bathrobe.

  “Maybe you should keep that on for now.”

  “Okay.” She laughed. “Want me to sit over in the chair, out of reach?”

  “Might be a good idea. My clothes are on it. Sorry about that.”

  “I can move them.” She transferred his clothes to the end of the bed, picked up her wineglass and returned to the suede-covered easy chair. The chair had never seemed particularly erotic before, but now the material rubbed sensuously against her bare calves as she sat down.

  To be fair, she’d never sat and watched a naked man lounging against a bank of snowy white pillows while he ate something she’d cooked. She’d thought staying across the room from him would lessen the temptation for her, too. Not so much.

  From this vantage point she could watch his muscles flex when he raised the fork. She was super-conscious of his mouth, the square line of his jaw and the tanned column of his throat. She became fascinated by the gentle rise and fall of his chest and the pattern of the dark hair that lightly covered his strong pecs and then arrowed downward.

  “This is terrific.” He took small bites, not wolfing it down the way some men might have. “I would have hated to miss it.”

  “Then I’m glad I saved you some.” She couldn’t deny that his praise felt really good. She cooked to explore her creative side, but knowing that someone savored the result of her efforts made the experience really shine for her.

  Still, the longer she watched him, the more she ached for his touch. Sipping her wine, she tried to control her impatience. She wanted him to take his time and enjoy the food she’d prepared. Of course she did. But right now she had competing needs, and sexuality was winning out.

  She’d lost interest in her wine and set the glass on the floor beside her chair in hopes that would be a subtle signal for him to hurry up. He didn’t seem to notice, so she casually loosened the tie of her bathrobe so the lapels would gape a little.

  “It’s amazing that you could warm this up without making it dry.” Without so much as a glance in her direction, he speared another small piece of steak. “But it’s really tasty.”

  So am I, so can we move on? “Thank you.” She took a long, slow breath, which caused the bathrobe to shift, revealing even more if he should happen to glance over.

  Instead he seemed completely focused on his food. She hadn’t given him much. She couldn’t see what was left on his plate, but surely he was almost finished.

  “Have you ever thought of turning pro?”

  Her brain was on sex, so the question startled her. Then she recalibrated. He was talking about becoming a professional chef. “No, not really. This gig is more like an expansion of cooking for friends and family, but I don’t crave a job in a restaurant. Too impersonal.”

  He continued to pay great attention to his plate. “I can understand that, but you’re very talented.”

  I have talents in other areas, too. Let’s explore those, shall we? She decided subtle wasn’t working. She slipped her arms out of the bathrobe and picked up her wine.

  “I wish there was a way for you to have a wider audience.”

  She stood, but still he didn’t notice. She dipped her finger in the wine.

  “I wish—”

  She interrupted him with a deliberate clearing of her throat.

  He looked up then, and his fork, along with a tiny bite of steak, clattered back onto the plate.

  Slowly she circled her nipple with one moist finger. Then she slipped her finger into the wine again and repeated the process on the other side. Wetting her finger once more, she drew a line from her breasts down to an area she knew would grab his attention.

  As her finger disappeared in a mass of curls, the lap tray rattled. Snapping out of his trance, Matthew moved it quickly to the floor, threw back the covers and climbed out of bed, revealing in the process why the tray had jiggled.

  Holding her gaze, he walked over and took the wineglass from her unresisting fingers. “Allow me.”

  “Happy to.”

  Swirling his finger in her wine, he slowly painted her mouth. “Bored, were we?” He followed the path of his finger with his tongue.

  “Uh-huh.” But not now. Anticipation fizzed in her veins.

  Tucking back her hair, he used his wine-wet finger to trace the curve of her ear. “I wanted you to know…” he paused to slowly lick away the wine, sending shivers through her “…how much I love your food.”

  “I figured.” Her breath caught as he flicked a droplet of wine into the hollow of her throat and sucked it away.

  “Apparently I overdid it.” He trailed a damp finger over her collarbone, followed by the smooth slide of his tongue.

  “A little.”

  “I’ll make it up to you.” He circled her nipple, anointing it as she had done, before leaning down and drawing it into his mouth.

  She felt the tug all the way down to her womb and clutched his broad shoulders for support. “I’m sure…” As he rolled her nipple between his tongue and the roof of his mouth, she forgot what else she’d meant to say.

  Splaying his big hand at the small of her back, he steadied her as he made sweet love to her breast with his hot, hungry mouth. His cheeks hollowed and his talented tongue brought her the kind of pleasure she’d been so impatient for.

  Moaning, she cupped the back of his head with both hands and tunneled her fingers into his thick hair. Her breathing grew shallow and her pulse urgent as he transferred his attention to her other breast. He rubbed it with wine and licked it clean before centering on her aching nipple.

  “I think you’re going to come for me,” he murmured against her skin. “I think you’re ready.”

  “Mmm.” Her eyes drifted shut as he closed his mouth over her breast and began driving her slowly insane. Her body tightened, reaching for release.

  His teeth raked her nipple, sending a jolt of sensation straight to her trigger point. He sucked in again, resuming the rhythmic beat that took her closer, and closer yet.

  Still holding the wineglass, he brushed his knuckles over her quivering body, heading down, down, before stopping at the critical point. As his teeth caught her nipple again, he pressed his knuckle in right there. Shoving her fist against her mouth to muffle her cries, she came apart.

  The room seemed to whirl around her. It was a testament to his strength that he could hold a wineglass and turn her around without spilling a drop.

  “Down you go.”

  Still dazed from her orgasm, she offered no resistance as he guided her to a sitting position on the edge of the bed. When he told her to lie back, she did that, too. And then, when she felt the slow drip of what must have been wine, and his tongue caressing a part of her that continued to quiver from his last campaign, she understood.

  He’d said he’d make it up to her, and obviously he wasn’t e
ven close to being finished. And as he settled in, she decided that of all the things she admired about Matthew Tredway, this might turn out to be her favorite.

  Ah, he was good. No, excellent. No, world-class… And then her brain ceased to function as sensation took over, carrying her on a hot river of lust that kept widening and churning as it headed for a thundering drop. She went over the edge gladly, and this time she didn’t remember to muffle her cries. Sometimes a girl just had to jump in a barrel and go over the falls.

  As she lay gulping for air, her arms flung out to her sides, he kissed his way back up her body. She opened her eyes to his smiling, very triumphant, expression.

  “Am I forgiven for boring you?”

  She managed to nod, which was about all the response she was capable of making at the moment.

  “Good, because I have a little problem. Wait, that’s false modesty. I have a really big problem, and I need your help with it, if you’d be willing to scoot up onto the bed…there, that’s fine, and…just a second, I have to suit up…there.”

  She took a shaky breath. “I don’t know if I have any more orgasms left.”

  “Maybe not. You can just lie still if you want.” He moved over her. “I don’t mind. I just need to…ah.” He thrust in deep. “You are so wet.”

  “Your fault.”

  Braced on his forearms, he gazed down at her as he began to slowly pump. “I’ll take the blame. Is this okay? I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

  “It’s okay.” Gradually, it was becoming several notches above okay. She’d thought he’d exhausted the possibilities for her with that double whammy moments ago, but now, as his steady thrusts reached remembered spots of delight, she found herself rising to meet his strokes.

  His eyebrows lifted. “You don’t have to do that, you know.”

  “I know.” She clutched his firm buns. “Turns out I might have another orgasm hiding in there, after all.”

  “Nice to know.” His blue eyes darkened as he shifted his angle. “That makes this a lot more fun.”