by Sami Lee
“Her name was Rochelle Myers.” Greg’s chest tightened oddly because he hadn’t said Rochelle’s name in he couldn’t remember how long. “And I wasn’t nearly as proper about it as I should have been.”
“Ooh. Sounds intriguing.”
There was a thread of snark in Penny’s voice that belied the ostensibly glib delivery. She turned around to open one of the lower cupboards behind her. From the clang of metal on metal Greg assumed she was searching for a fry pan. Her bent-over pose gave him a terrific view of her pert ass, and he could barely stifle his groan. What was he doing talking when all he wanted to do was yank down those yoga pants and bury himself in her tight pussy?
“Go on,” Penny said as she found what she was looking for and stood up. “You were telling me how improper you were with what’s-her-name.”
“Rochelle.” It didn’t feel as weird saying it the second time, and some of the tightness eased out of his chest. A feeling that was probably helped by the sneaking suspicion that Penny was jealous. His lips twitched at the thought, and his chest didn’t feel tight at all anymore. In fact it felt rather puffed up. “And I was never improper. Simply impatient. I asked for her hand within three months. In hindsight I suppose I should have given it more time.”
“Because it obviously didn’t work out,” Penny concluded. “Was it you or her? Who ended it, I mean.”
“Definitely not me. I had no clue anything was wrong. I did everything right, as far as I was concerned. I had a good career, a great apartment. I was thirty-one, fully ready to commit, and Rochelle and I seemed to fit. She was from my world, and I thought we understood each other. We never even argued. She was kind and smart and beautiful—”
“I get it,” Penny cut him off. “You had the perfect fiancée. Your kids would have been genetic freaks.”
She slammed the plug of the electric wok into a socket. The tilt of Greg’s lips turned into a fully formed curve. She was jealous. What a revelation. Suddenly he didn’t even see the point of talking about Rochelle. The past didn’t seem nearly as interesting as the future.
A future in which he was going to make Penny Irving his, God damn it. Oh hell yes he was.
“Maybe we don’t have to talk about this after all,” Penny muttered.
“You asked, sweetheart. I’m only trying to be honest with you.”
She whirled around, her eyes flashing green flame at him. “Don’t sweetheart me. It’s—”
“Romantic?” Greg filled in. “You know, nobody’s ever accused me of being too romantic before.”
“I’m surprised. With the way you’re always lifting women up like you’re Rhett Butler.”
“Who?”
She looked at him agog. “Gone with the Wind? Rhett ‘You should be kissed and often by someone who knows how’ Butler?”
“I have no idea what you’re saying, but the kissing part sounds interesting.”
His gaze dropped to her lips, and even though they were pulled into a thin line, Greg wanted to kiss them more than he’d ever wanted anything. More than he’d ever wanted Rochelle back in that first drunken month after she jilted him, more than he’d ever wanted to erase their entire relationship from his memory. Next to Penny and all the things he wanted to do to her—with her—all thoughts of Rochelle seemed woefully insignificant.
Greg wasn’t sure how that open wound had healed into a faded scar without him realizing it, but sometime over the past ten months it must have. He wasn’t broken anymore. He’d simply been too invested in the idea that he was broken to let it go. No question, being jilted at the altar had made him seriously doubt his instincts about women, but he felt his willingness to take the risk of being wrong growing stronger than his caution for the first time in what seemed a lifetime.
It probably helped that he didn’t think he was wrong about Penny. Penny would never hide the truth from him, only to reveal it at the worst possible moment. She was vocal and opinionated. He had to wonder how he’d once been drawn to the polite reserve of someone like Rochelle when he found Penny’s expressiveness so unbelievably sexy. He found her unbelievably sexy.
He couldn’t stand not to have her in his arms another minute.
Greg took a step forward. When Penny held up a hand in a stop gesture, he halted mid-stride. “I see the look in your eyes, but you cannot kiss me.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to rein in his impatience. Because he was still a gentleman, even though he felt about fifty percent animal. “Do you want to explain why not?”
“Because we have nothing in common and there’s no point pretending otherwise. I’ve never even met anyone else who hasn’t seen Gone with the Wind. You are from a different planet.”
“That reasoning makes no sense,” Greg said, smiling. “I object.”
“This isn’t a courtroom.” That flicker of vulnerability he’d seen rarely but that always made something hard tug in Greg’s chest passed over her face. “It’s my life. And I won’t have you making promises you can’t keep.”
Greg released a sigh. She didn’t trust him yet, and he knew he hadn’t given her enough reasons to. He had to do whatever it took to reassure her he could be what she wanted. He could be the man she deserved. “What if I promised to watch the movie? Will that help?”
“No!” she exclaimed. “I don’t need you getting any tips on how to be a suave debonair hero from my movies. I need you less romantic, not more.”
She was talking like a crazy person, but Greg made the effort to find the parts that made sense. Anything that would result in his lips landing on hers. “If I promise not to be romantic about it, you’ll let me kiss you?”
“Well…”
She bit her lip as she considered her answer, and the fifty percent animal inside Greg morphed into one hundred percent feral beast. He growled low in his throat and pulled Penny towards him, crushing her breasts to his chest before slamming his mouth onto hers.
She ate it up, throwing her arms around his neck and throwing herself into the kiss as though her reluctance had never existed. She was wild and sensual, and she gave in to her passions with a gusto that threw fuel on the fire of his lust. He dragged her hips into his, grinding so she’d feel the pained erection he’d been sporting since he first saw her wearing her all black, too-skimpy-for-his-sanity yoga gear. She moaned into his mouth and rocked her hips, rubbing her crotch against his hard-on.
It was raw and primal and so fucking fantastic that Greg knew he was going to lose his mind in under ten seconds if he didn’t take back some kind of control. He dragged his mouth from hers and transferred it to her neck. Penny’s head dropped behind her, giving him access to her throat. When he nipped at her pulse point, she gasped.
“I’m going to make love to you,” he croaked. “I have to.”
“No. You have to fuck me.”
Semantics as far as Greg was concerned, but he wasn’t going to argue the point because she was kissing him again, sliding her tongue along his and digging her fingernails into his scalp in that way she had that made him feel wanted, desired. Penny was hungry for him, desperate, and for all the advantages he’d grown up with, Greg had never felt quite so privileged in his life.
Greg drew back, grasping for a control that was fast slipping away. Penny chased his mouth, the least diffident woman he’d ever kissed. He loved it. He cupped her jaw, steadying her, steadying himself. He ran his thumb along her lower lip, schooling himself to take more time. To show her—
Looking him directly in the eye, Penny took his thumb into her mouth and sucked.
Heat, faster and more electric than lightning, seized his balls. Seeing his thumb disappearing into that pink, wet place… He was done for if she didn’t stop. They both would be. Any second he’d be telling her to take those bold, eager lips and wrap them around his cock. An image of blowing in her mouth tormented him, and Greg tried to push it away. Abruptly he spun
Penny around until her back was to him. It would be easier if he couldn’t see the unveiled lust in her eyes.
Or so he’d thought. Having his aching hard-on nestled into her butt cheeks didn’t do much for his state of mind either. He slipped a hand beneath the hem of her top and moved it upward, taking the cotton away from the silk of her skin. “Do you have any idea how sexy you look in this?”
“I…I was going for casual.”
After enjoying the short tour of her waist and rib cage, Greg’s hand settled over her breast. He massaged it none too gently while he thrust his hips forward, pressing his erection into her ass. “Does this feel casual to you?”
“God, no.” Unfazed by how hard he was, or how rough he was being, Penny tilted her hips back, rubbed her ass against him. “Greg…Greg.”
Forget making her suck his dick. He was going to come in his pants if she didn’t stop. That would be humiliating and totally counter to the point he was trying to make. What was that again?
Oh right. That she could trust him. That her happiness mattered to him. Christ, Danvers. Get a hold of yourself.
He tilted Penny forward, bending her at the waist. As she reached out to grab the kitchen counter, Greg pushed the wok and the still-soaking noodles out of the way. Water sloshed over the edge of the bowl and onto the counter. He didn’t care. He put his hands back on Penny’s waist, moved them down to her hips. He allowed himself the momentary torture of grinding his stiff pole into the crevice between her legs. He felt the heat of her through her tights and his trousers. The promise of skin on skin called to him, had him drawing Penny’s pants and underwear down to the tops of her thighs before he could stop himself.
Greg ran his finger along the slick seam between her legs. “Fuck. You’re drenched.”
“Your fault,” Penny breathed. “Practically undressing in front of me.”
It had been a completely practical decision, but Greg had seen the fire in her eyes when he’d shucked his jacket and tie. He’d liked it. He’d liked it a lot that he could make her react from doing one simple thing. Applying that principle, Greg took his middle finger and sank it partway into Penny’s sodden channel.
“Oh, Jesus!” She pushed back, begging for more. Greg retreated, denying her. The loud curse that burst out of her made him smile.
“How’s this?” he asked as he took his finger, now wet with her juices, and slid it back and forth over her pussy lips. “Unromantic enough for you?”
She moaned and widened her stance—as much as she could with her yoga tights restricting her movement. Her eagerness fueled his own, and Greg gave her what she wanted. He found her clit with his wet finger and rubbed.
“Yes. Oh.”
He let her gyrate into his touch for a moment, mesmerized by the erotic sway of her hips. Then he drew his finger back and sank it once more into her pussy. She whimpered in both frustration and relief. Her breath started coming in rough pants as he plunged into her, over and over.
It mimicked what he wanted to do with his erection, and Greg couldn’t take his eyes off the backward thrust of her hips. His trousers had never felt this tight. “Tell me what you want.”
“Your cock. I want you inside me.”
He’d known she wouldn’t be shy, but her bold demand ripped a groan from Greg’s throat. He tried to think straight, to remember if he’d brought condoms. In his wallet. Jacket pocket. The jacket that was in the dining room. Too far away. Might as well have to trek to Mongolia for condoms as to leave her to go ten meters away to his jacket pocket.
His question was a taut rasp. “Are you on the pill?”
“I am. But I’ve never…I always use extra protection.”
Because she cared about her health and everybody else’s. And here he was almost plunging inside her bare because he couldn’t control himself. He knew he was safe and he trusted Penny, but hell. He had to get a grip. “Stay right there,” he said.
“Wait.” She propped up on her hands and looked over her shoulder at him. That fear was in her eyes, and he recognized the emotional reluctance, a fear of getting hurt. It was the same thing he’d felt from the beginning, the reason why he’d been willing to believe Bryan’s lies, why he’d tried to keep a shield up between himself and this woman. From the first moment he’d met her, he’d felt a part of him shift, and on some level had been relieved she was off limits. She’d always had the power to touch him, inside and out.
Just as he had the power to breach her defenses and reach her heart. He had to believe that, because she’d already taken up residence in his. He wasn’t terrified of her meaning something to him anymore. What scared him most was the possibility that he might not mean anything to her.
“It’s okay,” Penny said. “I trust you.”
A sigh shuddered out of Greg. Humbled by her faith in him, he dropped his head to her shoulder, kissed it. Said, “Thank you, sweetheart.”
Greg released his fly and took out his aching cock. Then he eased it inside her snug sheath and went to heaven.
They both cried out. The soft clamp of her flesh made Greg’s balls tighten instantly. He held still a moment before drawing back and plunging into her more fully. Dear God, she was perfect.
With determined purpose, Greg reached between Penny’s legs and found her clit. It was plump and wet. When he stroked it, she tipped her head back and wailed, “Yes!” He banded an arm around her ribs and held her upright, held her to him, as he rocked into her. He pinched her clit and bit her neck until she cursed and bucked against him in ferocious orgasm.
It hadn’t taken long and Greg had counted on that. The feel of her flesh undulating over his without any barrier between them had hurtled him to the edge, and when Penny dropped her arms back to the counter in repletion, Greg held her hips still and pounded into her, out of control and lost to all but sensation until he too climaxed with a guttural groan.
Afterward, he dropped his hands to the counter beside hers and shook. It was all he was capable of—to hover above her and tremble and not speak because words wanted to spill out and he wasn’t sure she’d welcome the words he wanted to say.
I love you.
It made no sense. This thing had barely begun. Penny would say they weren’t compatible, that he was in a post-sex state of grateful bliss. That part was true, and Greg couldn’t discount the possibility his heightened state of pleasure colored his thoughts.
I love you.
He bit the words back. Perhaps he was merely driven mad by pleasure.
Or love.
In the end the words that came from his mouth were banal, but at least lacking the explosive power to destroy the mood. “I’m afraid I made a mess of you back here,” he said as he gently pulled out of her.
Penny laughed, and the sound filled him with such joy Greg laughed too. That feeling of connection, of love, persisted, and he knew it was here to stay. Show her it’s true first. Present your evidence before your closing argument.
That’s what he’d do. He’d show her how he felt, show her how well they worked together. When she was ready to believe him, he’d tell her he was in love with her.
Greg smiled to himself, enjoying that feeling. He’d thought he’d never fall in love again. It felt unexpectedly good to be wrong.
“If my yoga pants are ruined you can buy me a new pair,” Penny quipped as she straightened and pulled the tights up over her ass.
“I’ll buy you anything you want,” Greg replied, meaning it.
“Good. Next time you can buy me dinner. Somewhere public so we can eat before we get sidetracked.”
Greg saw the way she touched her hair, a sure sign she was anxious. She probably regretted saying that, being the one to suggest they see each other again. But Greg loved it. He grabbed her to him and held her close. “It’s a date.”
“I didn’t mean to—”
“I know.” He smi
led into the curve of her neck. “But it’s a date.”
Penny sighed in resignation and snuggled into him. The curve of her spine seemed to fit to his chest like cling wrap. “I think I’m in trouble with you, lawyer man.”
“I know I’m in trouble with you, yoga girl.”
She touched a hand to his forearm, stroking the hairs there. She sounded very serious when she asked, “Promise me one thing?”
“Of course.”
She was silent for a few beats, and Greg could almost hear her mind working, turning over what she’d been going to say and rejecting it. “Promise you’ll clean me off well in the shower?”
It wasn’t what she’d been going to ask, but he let the image of Penny naked and sluiced by warm flowing water distract him, as he was sure she’d meant for it to. He’d do anything for her, he realized, even if that meant keeping things light. For now. “I can do that.”
“I have a detachable showerhead, just FYI.” Penny moved out of his arms and sauntered out of the kitchen, swaying her ass in a way that made Greg’s nether regions reheat. She sent a smoldering glance over her shoulder. “Coming?”
Emphatically, he replied, “Absolutely.”
* * *
“Hey, yoga girl.”
Penny drifted up from a deep, enveloping sleep when something scraped across her cheek. She shifted beneath the covers, the warm cotton sliding over her naked body. Her naked, well-used body. Her lips curved even before she came to full cognizance. They parted even before Greg’s lips met them.
The kiss was languorous and soft. Penny arched into it, felt herself growing warm and liquid a moment before he pulled away with a soft curse. He rested his forehead on hers and sighed. “I have to go. It’s five o’clock.”
Five o’clock in the morning, which meant she’d spent the last ten hours tangling with Greg—in her kitchen, in the shower, in bed. Her muscles felt stretched and energized like they did after a particularly grueling yoga session.
Well, not exactly like that. The post-Greg effect was even better than yoga. She was in big trouble with the lawyer man. Despite knowing that, she opened her eyes, because she didn’t want to miss seeing his face before he left. In the steel-gray light his expression was glum. “Wish I could stay.”