Groaning, he pulled her tight against him and took her mouth in a forceful kiss, thrusting his tongue between her lips, filling her mouth with his presence, his taste. Wedging one knee between her legs, he pressed his solid muscular thigh against the stiff bud of her sex. The rough material of his slacks in contrast to her silk stockings sent jolt after jolt of adrenalin singing through her veins.
The juncture between her legs throbbed for relief. She moaned and ground herself against his leg. He grasped her waist, lifted her, held her intimately firm against the hard ridge in his slacks.
He wanted her. Even if he hadn’t told her, she’d known. Even if he only wanted her for tonight, then tonight it would be. For the first time in years, she was alive and sexy and desirable.
Jerking her mouth from his, she kissed his neck, using her lips, teeth and tongue to caress his salty skin.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he said in a strained voice.
She locked her ankles around his waist and thrust her aching center against the bulge behind his zipper. They were as physically close as two clothed people could be. His large hands scorched her bottom as he dug his fingers into her flesh, holding her in place, rocking her against him. She groaned at the torture of being close but not close enough. He was driving her insane with desire.
He locked his mouth to hers, carried her across the room and kicked open a door. The door banged against the wall. He laid her on his turned-down bed, the satiny sheet cool to her heated flesh.
“Don’t move,” he growled. “I want to enjoy the view.”
Instead, she rolled to her side and rested her head in her hand. “I don’t think so. I think it’s time I had a turn looking.”
His lips curved into a slow, sexy smile.
“As you demand.” He toed off black cowboy boots and kicked them toward a closet door. He unfastened his slacks and pulled the zipper slowly down.
Each click of the zipper notched her heart rate higher.
When he shoved his slacks and underwear to the floor in one move, she sighed and licked her lips in appreciation. Riding horses and herding cattle had done for him what men paid her trainers big bucks to achieve—thick, contoured muscles and rippled cording in all the right places. Her gaze ate up his chest, his taut, flat abdomen, his… She licked her lips again. He was bigger than she remembered.
Her insides quivered with lust and need. “Mitch Landry, I want you.” She got to her knees and crawled to the edge of the bed. “Come here.”
He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
Taking his hard arousal in her hand, she slid her cheek from the head to the base, relishing the velvety feel, inhaling his musky scent. Then, wrapping her lips around the head, she took him into her mouth, pulling him deep. Her taste buds exploded with his salty tang. If she had the rest of her life, she didn’t believe she could ever get enough of him.
“Oh, God. That feels so good,” Mitch grasped out on a low groan. Fingers slid into her hair, pulling the strands taut, holding her head as he drove in and out. Then he was gone.
“Unless you want this over quickly, I can’t take any more of that right now.”
Olivia smiled. Her tongue darted to lick her lips, savoring his taste.
“My turn,” he said as he removed her bra before taking one breast into his mouth. He sucked her full flesh, using his teeth to scrape her rucked nipple, then soothing the scrape with his tongue.
She arched her back in response. Needing more. Demanding more.
“Harder,” she commanded. “Suck harder.”
He ignored her demand. Instead, he tortured her by moving his mouth to her other breast, tweaking and rolling her stiff nipple between his finger and thumb. Lightning sparks rumbled from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. She whimpered in response to the cool air when his mouth left her breast. The sound seemed to drive him on.
He pressed his lips on her stomach, ran his tongue around her navel before tickling the inside with the tongue’s tip.
Her abdominal muscles contracted and quivered in response. The only sound she could hear was the drum-drum-drum of her heart in her ears. She rested her hands on his head, stroking fingers through his soft strands.
Slipping a hand between her damp thighs, he cupped her, pressing his thumb to the rigid nub of her sex, triggering waves of energy pulsing through her. She gasped and arched her back in response. His hot breath whispered across the skin of her inner thigh seconds before his mouth covered her thong. He sucked through the thong’s silk, almost bringing her to climax with his mouth. She jerked on the bed, clinging to the sheets with her fists, her nerve endings alive and sparking. He grabbed her thighs, pushed them wider, held her in place as he used his mouth to torture her.
Too soon. Too soon. Not yet.
As if he could hear her thoughts, he moved his mouth from her thong and ran his tongue down the inside of her thigh until it met the lace elastic of her stockings. His gaze lifted to hers. “The stockings stay on,” he said, then hooked his fingers at the side straps of her throng. “These don’t. Lift your hips or I’ll rip it off.”
She smiled but didn’t lift her hips.
He ripped the damp silk and tossed it on the floor. Raising her foot to his mouth, he kissed the arch, then her ankle, leaving more sizzling kisses on her silk-encased calf. He ran both hands under her knees then pulled her to the edge of the mattress before draping her legs over his shoulders.
“Mitch,” she gasped. “You don’t have to…”
“Shh. This for me.”
The minute his mouth touched her swollen flesh, she bucked, digging her heels into his broad shoulders. Torture. Unbelievably sweet torture as he kissed and sucked her throbbing center. His tongue traced her rigid nub. His mouth was ravenous on her flesh.
Her ability to think shut down. Basic animal instincts ruled her thoughts, her actions. The satin sheet knotted in her fists as her head rolled from side to side.
And then his mouth was gone, leaving her unfulfilled and wild with lust. Her legs slid down his arms to rest on either side of his hips. One thick finger dipped inside, stroking her swollen walls. A second finger joined the first, thrusting in and out in rapid secession. Olivia’s breath was a pant, a groan, then a pant again.
“Mitch, I don’t know how much I can take,” she said through gritted teeth. “I can’t hold back.”
“Then don’t. I want to watch as you break apart in my arms.”
She shut her eyes.
“Don’t shut your eyes,” he ordered. “Look at me. I want you to know it’s me, it’s us together again.”
The tension inside twisted to an almost painful level. She forced her eyes to open and look at him. He stared at her, a serious expression covering his face.
“Let go,” he whispered. “Let go. I’ll catch you.”
She went over as flashing multi-colored lights danced behind eyelids she couldn’t keep open. Wave after electrical wave coursed through her as the climax overtook her.
Limp, she lay spread on the bed, Mitch between her legs, the rough hair of his legs abrading the soft tissue of her inner thighs.
Heat infused her body as Mitch lay on top of her. Hot flesh pressed against hot flesh. She arched into him, wrapping her legs around his thighs.
“God, Livie,” he said in a breathy voice, “God, Livie, I need you. I’ve missed you.”
“I’m here, Mitch. Don’t make me wait any longer,” she said, then kissed his mouth.
He jerked away, wrenched open the drawer of the bedside table and grabbed a small package. His actions were frenzied and hurried as he ripped open the condom and put it on. With one thrust, he plunged deep inside her body.
Olivia gasped. She looked into the face of the man she’d loved all these years. She stared at him, trying to memorize all the curves and angles for when he was gone, and she had no doubt he would leave. She stored his scent, his taste, his touch, his voice.
“Okay?” Mitch’s face held the concern his question ask
ed.
She forced her breathing to slow, drawing in deep breaths until she no longer gasped. She blew out one long breath and smiled. “I am now.”
He pulled slowly out of her. “No one has ever replaced you…could ever replace you.”
Emptiness permeated every cell of her being.
“Nothing has ever felt as good as loving you.” He thrust into her. “Nothing.” His face hardened as his jaw clenched. “I’m sorry, babe. I can’t hold back much longer.”
“Then don’t. Let go. I’ll catch you,” she said, repeating his words back to him.
He plunged into her again and again, the sheen from his sweat glimmering on his brow. She met him stroke for stroke, rocking her hips to meet the rhythm he set. He shoved both hands under her bottom, lifted her to meet his thrusts. With each stroke, he hit her swollen sex nub, driving her again higher and higher.
Her fingernails raked his back as she approached the brink again.
In answer to her pleas and moans, his hips pistoned faster and harder, giving her everything she needed. She came again. Ripple after delicious ripple rumbling through her body. In the next instance, he followed, groaning softly in her ear.
He collapsed on top of her. “Give me a minute. I’ll move,” he gasped into her ear.
She wrapped her arms across his back, soaking in the feel of his weight, storing away memories for the cold years to come. “Don’t hurry. You feel good.”
And so right. How could they—he—have thrown this away?
Cold air blew across Mitch’s face and naked chest. He reached for Olivia to pull her close, to steal some of her warmth. His hand came up with only a cold sheet. No Olivia. Opening his eyes, he searched for her, but found only an empty space in his bed.
Certain she wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye, he searched his suite until he found her wrapped in his robe on the balcony, staring into the sky. Backlit by the moon, she stood in profile, reminding him of a goddess statue. The perfect jut of her nose. Her sensual lips in a pout. Her breasts, full and luscious, rising and falling with each breath. She took his breath away.
Once he’d loved Olivia with a passion so intense it had scared him. Tonight, as they’d made love, he realized the infinite depth of his feelings, but now he was no longer afraid. With maturity came understanding. A love like theirs didn’t come along every day. It was special. Unique. Something to be cherished, not taken for granted. How could he have wasted such a treasure? A youthful mistake, for sure. But he was no longer the naïve boy he’d been.
Would it be possible to find their way to each other again, find the love? He believed—hoped with all his heart—that they could.
Was it too late to start over?
He remembered something his mother had said to him. It’s never too late to love. And never too late to forgive and find happiness.
At the time, the divorce from Joanna had been fresh and his emotions raw. He’d assumed his mother had been talking about his failed marriage and Joanna’s miscarriage. Since he’d been in no mood to accept advice, he’d nodded and replied, “Right, Mom.”
Now, looking at Olivia in the silvery moonlight, his heart so engorged with love he could hardly speak, he understood what his mother had been trying to tell him.
“Livie.”
She turned toward him. “Mitch.”
He held out his hand. “My bed is empty without you. I missed you.”
She gave him her hand and a smile that didn’t begin to camouflage the sadness in her eyes, a sadness he didn’t understand. He pulled her close and kissed her, putting all his feelings into his kiss, his touch. Tonight, actions were safer than words. He wasn’t ready to put his feeling into words. This time—unlike the night they’d broken up—he’d choose his words with more care and caution.
Her soft arms twined around his neck. Holding her in his arms felt right, like coming home after a long trip.
Her mouth challenged his for control, kissing, nipping, licking, sucking. He didn’t need to hear her words. Her actions conveyed her desire.
He slipped the knot from the robe’s belt. Sliding his hand under the silk to her warm shoulders, he pushed the material off. The robe landed in a heap at her feet. Silvery moonbeams glided across her smooth skin. Forever wouldn’t give him enough time to look at her.
He took her hands and placed them on the concrete railing of the balcony. Moving behind her, Mitch pressed his chest against her soft back. “You are so beautiful in the moonlight,” he whispered, then kissed her behind her ear. “Spread your legs for me. Take me back inside you.”
At his words, Olivia leaned on the railing and parted her legs, arching her bottom toward him. Her sex glistened in the moonlight from her arousal fluids. He kissed her shoulder then ran the tip of his tongue down her back. She moaned on a sigh. He dropped to his knees and drew in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of her essence.
He put his hands on her inner thighs and applied gentle pressure. “Wider.”
Her feet slipped farther apart. Using his thumbs, he separated her folds and ran his tongue alongside her sexual center. He filled his mouth with her sweet nectar while his thumb rotated and stroked her clitoris until he felt the muscles of her thighs begin to quiver. This time he was going to make her wait and come with him. When he stopped she wiggled her bottom.
“Don’t stop. I’m so close.”
He chuckled. “I know, but this time we’re going over together.”
She turned her head until their eyes met. Her fingers flexed against the hard railing. “Fine, but hurry.”
After snatching a condom from the robe’s pocket, he quickly sheathed himself and stood. He grabbed her hips and drove deep into her. Her breath left in a gasp then she moaned, moving her hips back to meet him.
“Harder,” she said with a groan.
He slammed into her again and again, his balls slapping against her flesh.
“Don’t. Leave. Me. Again,” he said, each word accentuated with a driving thrust.
She cried out as her muscles squeezed him with her orgasm, milking his own powerful release. He rested his cheek on her back, struggling to catch his breath.
The second time was as emotionally powerful as the first, if not more. Olivia met his demands and made some of her own. This time, when he climaxed, he understood the depth of his love for this woman, how much he wanted Olivia to be a part of his life. How much he needed to be with her, every day, every hour.
Later, as he drifted into a sated sleep, his last thought was he had to convince her that she needed him as much as he needed her.
Olivia took advantage of Mitch’s sleeping state to study the dark, thick eyelashes resting on his cheeks, eyelashes most women would kill for. How unfair was it that men got such incredible lashes while women curled, mascaraed, glued on fake lashes—anything to get the look of the lashes Mitch sported with no effort.
She lightly brushed his hair off his face, tried to store mental photographs of every detail. The telltale pale of his forehead where his cowboy hat rested glistened in the soft moonlight kissing his face. From his nose down, there was a slight tanning where even the best Stetson couldn’t block the relentless Texas sun.
A little snore escape his parted lips, making Olivia grin. She remembered that snore. There were nights when she couldn’t sleep and would’ve given anything to hear his snore beside her, feel the warmth from his hot body, take comfort from him being near. Nothing—nor anyone—had ever dulled the ache for him she carried deep inside.
There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t have done for him, including giving him up when he’d asked her to. She’d wanted to tell him about the pregnancy, but the timing could not have been worse. Then fate had continued to cause a domino effect of events that kept her from telling him about their baby.
Thinking about her son jerked her guilt front and center again. She slipped from the bed and put Mitch’s robe back on. Mitch would have been—hell, could be—the best father in the world, but she c
ouldn’t risk Adam’s future on it.
She moved quietly from the bedroom into the suite’s living room, where she paced and debated and cursed fate. Each time she reached the balcony, she was sure she should tell Mitch everything. By the time she’d walked back to the suite’s bar, she was positive she and Adam were doing great without him, or any man. Besides, who knew how he would react to the fact she had a son.
The carpet blurred as tears burned her eyes.
Damn it, Mitch. Joanna might have been a long-time friend, but did you have to be the good guy and step up to the marriage plate with her?
Why blame him, you chicken, she chastised herself. You could have told him.
And if she had, even more stress and turmoil would have been heaped onto the chaotic mess that had come with James’s death. She couldn’t do that to Mitch.
James dead. Joanna pregnant with James’s child. Mitch stepping up to marry his childhood friend, Joanna. Doing what he thought his brother would have wanted.
Or at least Joanna had said she was pregnant. No baby had ever been born, and from what Olivia had heard no abdominal baby bulge had ever been noted. Joanna had miscarried the baby early in the second trimester. Remembering her own pregnancy, Olivia realized her pregnancy pooch hadn’t become obvious until she was well into her sixth month, so maybe it was possible that Joanna had been pregnant.
Had there ever been a baby, or had the pregnancy been one of Joanna’s elaborate schemes to get James to marry her, only to have it backfire when he died? Mitch’s mother, Sylvia Landry, had always been convinced of the latter.
Years later, Sylvia had confided to Olivia’s mother that if she’d been of sound mind, she never would have let Mitch marry Joanna. But once the deed was done, everyone had tried to make the best of the situation.
Marrying a Landry had been Joanna’s goal. Without James, that left her good friend Mitch. Maybe Olivia should have spoken up, stopped the marriage, told Mitch everything, forced him to—
Stop it. You made the best decision you could at the time.
“Livie?”
Texas Two Step: Texas Montgomery Mavericks, Book 1 Page 5