by Trish Wylie
‘I didn’t know you were there,’ she said on the gravelled path to the laneway between the main house and the guest house. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘How long have you been reading to him?’
‘A little over a year; he likes the classics best.’
They stopped in the laneway, the sky a stunning display of ochre and gold over their heads as the day faded. Then Roane turned to face him, her chin rising and the luminous blue of her gaze searching his. ‘He really did miss you, Adam. When he’s his most confused he gets emotional and says he has to find you to make it right. You’re the one thing he left undone. You being here, it means more to him than you realize…’
Adam looked over her head, staring into the distance as he fought to assimilate the information. The old man was different. Maybe at some point Adam had mentally exaggerated the image with the perceptions of the archetypical angry young man he’d been back then. Maybe it was simply because of the illness he seemed so changed. Adam didn’t know. The thing was, they were both stubborn. He was more like his father in that respect than he’d probably ever have admitted.
Roane stepped closer. ‘There’s still time.’
Adam frowned. He’d thought he had it all planned out. But things were different. He hated the lack of clarity. So much for the plans he’d made…
One small hand lifted to turn his face, her palm sliding upwards to allow her fingers to spread against his cheek. Then she stood on her tiptoes and surprised him by pressing an all too brief kiss to his lips. ‘You did good.’
Was she patronizing him? Adam’s brows jerked upwards in disbelief. He searched her eyes for confirmation as her hand dropped back to her side. No. She wasn’t. She’d been helping to care for his father for at least a year so she knew what worked to soothe him and what didn’t. She was simply telling him his words and his tone and his presence had helped…
But somehow knowing that didn’t help Adam’s mood. In fact if anything it made him angry. He didn’t need her to soothe him.
Moving swiftly, his large hands framed her face, fingers thrusting into the soft curtain of her hair as his lips crashed down on hers. She rocked back a step but he didn’t make any attempt to support her. Instead he took. He demanded. He devoured and in a heartbeat her whimper of protest morphed into a moan.
Small hands lifted to grasp onto the anchor of his open shirt. Then she kissed him back, tangling her tongue with his. It was frantic and primal. It was the tension that had been building between them let loose without any hint of coherent thought.
Adam smiled with satisfaction before lifting his head and reaching for her hand. ‘Come on.’
Her voice was husky as she let him guide her across the lane. ‘Where are we going?’
Adam stopped and turned, towering over her while she looked up at him with eyes darkened several shades by desire. ‘Where do you think we’re going?’
It took a moment, but then her lips formed an ‘o’ and her eyes widened, her gaze darting past him to the guest house and then back to his chest. ‘I can’t…I mean…well, it’s just that…’
Adam attempted to read between the lines. ‘You’re not sure? You’re having second thoughts? All of the above?’
‘No, well, yes and no…I just…’ Indecision shimmered across her eyes and she shifted her weight from one foot to the other before glancing up at him. ‘You’re gonna think this is pathetic.’
Adam flexed his fingers around hers. ‘Try me.’
‘It’s just that the guest house…’
When she grimaced and waved a hand in the direction of the house behind him Adam had a sudden flash of insight; it was about location? The idea made him smile.
His smile made her frown, her hand slipping free from his. ‘I told you you’d think it was pathetic.’
Adam forced the smile off his face and folded his arms across his chest while he attempted to keep the amusement from his voice. ‘So what’s wrong with the guest house exactly? It has five bedrooms—you can take your pick.’
She shot him a scowl before looking at the house again. ‘There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s just it’s…well, it’s impersonal. Like a really fancy hotel impersonal. And this is already—’
‘Impersonal?’ Adam’s brows rose in surprise. That was how she saw what they were doing? ‘There aren’t too many things in this world as personal as sex, sweetheart. When you get naked in a bed with someone it’s personal.’
‘With me it is. But you’re the guy who gets naked at the drop of a hat.’ When Adam angled his head and eyed her with suspicion she clarified what she’d meant. ‘I don’t need to remind you how we met, do I?’
Roane took a breath and tried again. ‘The guest house. Well, maybe it’s the word guest. It’s not a home, it’s impersonal and that makes this, well, it—’
‘Cheapens it.’ He didn’t make it a question.
Roane exhaled her reply as if she was relieved he understood. ‘Yes. I’m sorry. I just don’t want it to feel like that…’
It wouldn’t. He’d make sure of it. ‘So you’d be more comfortable in your own space.’
‘Comfortable is possibly a stretch, but yes.’
Adam could feel her nervousness shimmering in the space between them; mixed in with the heat she naturally radiated it formed a tantalizing glimpse of things to come. He knew instinctively she would tremble when he touched her, that the awakening of her body would both frighten and arouse her at the same time. Every bone in his body ached with the need to watch her as it happened, his arms unfolding and hands reaching out to insinuate their way under her jacket the same way they had earlier. With his gaze fixed on hers he set his palms against the curve of her stomach, a smile toying with his mouth as he felt her tremble. Then he splayed his fingers, adding a little pressure as if to help still her inner shaking as he stepped in and lowered his voice to say one word.
‘Where?’
Roane stared up at him as if mesmerized, long lashes flickering as she studied each of his eyes in turn. Adam could feel her wavering indecision; the fine line between sensible thought and physical need wobbling like images caught in the heat waves radiating off a road through the desert. She breathed shallow breaths—her soft skin warmed beneath his palms—she damped her lips in preparation for his mouth…
So Adam leaned in and kissed her. Taking his time to soothe and cajole and tempt while hunger spiralled inside him again. Roane fed that burgeoning hunger with calming touches of her velvety soft lips. She made his animalistic instincts growl with tentative strokes of her sweet-tasting tongue. When Adam fought for breath she breathed air into his lungs with whispered sighs, until the kissing became softer and slower still and he could feel something give inside her.
‘Where?’ He asked the question against her mouth.
‘I live in the beach house.’
Silently stepping back, Adam turned, hooking her forefinger over one of his little fingers. But he didn’t make an attempt to reach for anything firmer, as if he was aware of how little it would take to change her mind. The touch was tentative, even when they stepped off the end of the wooden walkway onto the deep sand of the beach—it could have been a metaphor for their relationship.
When her finger almost slipped free he hooked the tip of his ring finger to hold on; Roane smiled nervously in response when he glanced her way and a breeze from the ocean whipped tendrils of her hair against her cheeks. God he wanted her. He craved physical closeness with her the same way the incoming tide craved the touch of the shore.
The small beach house caught his gaze when he looked forwards; its pale blue painted boards and white trim were indicative of houses dotted from one end of the Vineyard to the other. And a thought occurred to him. ‘You were going there the night you found me?’
She nodded, studying him as she walked as if she was trying to figure something out.
Adam looked back at the house. They were less than fifteen yards from where she lived now—where she slept—from her b
ed. They were getting closer with every step. The thought made Adam’s body stiffen painfully in anticipation. Fourteen yards, thirteen, twelve, eleven…
He looked over at her profile and found her staring out to sea, the deep breath she took lifting her breasts. Then she turned her head and looked up at him and out of nowhere Adam heard his own voice.
‘Do you trust me?’
The reward for his question was a dazzling smile, one that had him smiling back in an instant. His smile was then rewarded with a gentle nodding of her head. So he let out the breath he hadn’t noticed he was holding to say a husky edged, ‘Good.’
He’d needed to know. There was no going back once they got started; Adam knew that. He just needed to know she knew it too. Her open gratitude that he’d taken the time to ask her an added bonus…
When they reached the foot of the wooden steps to her small porch he stepped close and broke the contact of their hands to set his hands on her hips and draw her close.
She slid her arms under his open shirt and around to his back, pressing her breasts against the wall of his chest and sending a jolt of electricity to his groin. Then she kissed the side of his neck the way she had on the plane, igniting remembered sensations to add to the new ones he could feel growing inside him.
Adam growled appreciatively above her head. ‘Fond of that spot, aren’t you?’
He could feel the smile on his skin. ‘Mmm-hmm…am…’
Decision long since made, he started backing her up the steps, his hands sliding under the bottom edge of her jacket to touch warm skin again. ‘You’ve got buckets full of payback coming your way for earlier…’
‘I know.’ She rained kisses up the column of his neck and mumbled near his ear, ‘I’ve done nothing else but think about that since I left you…’
Every fibre of Adam’s physical being throbbed with the need to feel her moist heat surrounding him, to hear the noises she would make as he moved inside her, freeing the sexual being he knew was hidden within. He hadn’t lied. He wanted to be the one to teach her what she could feel, what it could be like when that one intangible was there between two adults. For her to understand how rare it was to have that much chemistry from the get-go…
Tightening his fingers, he lifted her off the ground, setting her down on the top step so she was at eye level with him. She lifted her chin and looked deep into his eyes and for a brief second Adam had honestly never felt so naked. Not even when he’d been standing in front of her that first night.
He angled his head and leaned forwards, his mouth hovering over hers as he watched the play of emotions crossing her expressive eyes. One at a time they were easy to decipher. But he had a suspicion the knack of reading them when they were so mixed up was beyond his reach. It would probably take a lifetime to understand the nuances.
But with a complete certainty born of instinct alone he knew that none of them was doubt. She was giving herself to him. It garnered a sense of elation in Adam that made him want to throw his head back and howl in victory.
Instead he leaned over and took his time kissing her, paying particular attention to her lower lip before sweeping his tongue in to taste her addictive sweetness. The second she joined the dance things changed; she kissed him as if she were starving and he were a feast, as if she were dying of thirst and he were a cool drink of water. There was no way Adam could fight it, he couldn’t help but devour her right back—because she wasn’t the only one who’d been thinking about it all day, was she? He could hear the whisper now, the one that had been in the back of his mind just out of reach—it said her name. As if she was calling to a part of him no one else ever had.
When her hands began to move frantically against his back, reaching under the edge of his T-shirt to touch his skin, Adam tried to find something to focus his mind on; to help slow things down. If he didn’t then he knew he would take her. Harder and faster than he knew she was ready for. Later, he promised himself. Not this time. The first time she needed him to exercise some of that control he was usually so good with.
‘Adam—’ She wrenched her mouth from his to plead breathlessly as he plied kisses to the neck she arched for him. ‘Adam, please—I want—’
‘I know.’
‘But I need—’
‘I know.’
When he punctuated the words with kisses and nips she shuddered against him. ‘You’re making me crazy!’
Lifting his head, he smiled down at her. ‘Am I now?’
He was glad he was. He wanted her crazy for him.
‘Yes.’ She frowned. ‘I just—I need you to—that is, I want…’
‘Tell me.’ He looked steadily into her eyes, his voice vibrating low in his chest. ‘What you need, what feels good, what you want. Every last request…’
Roane’s answer was barely above a whisper. ‘I want you. I burn—for you—you make me burn…’
‘Door. Now.’ He kissed her hard, the need to consume her so powerful it took everything he had in him not to rip her clothes from her body.
They practically fell through the door, Adam making a cursory examination of the room before asking the obvious: ‘Bedroom?’
Roane walked backwards, mumbling between kisses, ‘This. Way.’
Adam reached for the hooks on her jacket, his mouth still fused to hers. It felt like he’d imagined undressing her a thousand times and yet now that he was his fingers were shaking. What was with that? It had been a long time since any woman had made his damn hands shake. It added to his frustration, because their movement coupled with his lack of dexterity meant it took twice as long as it should have to undo the hooks.
Roane removed her mouth from his long enough to look where they were going. While she did the last hook came free, the edges of the jacket opening to reveal smooth, creamy skin only partially covered by deliciously feminine lace. Adam’s mouth went dry as he imagined trailing kisses over her skin. He could see her puckered nipples through the thin lace and he swallowed to ease the rawness in his throat.
‘You’re beautiful.’ His voice was gravelly as he slid the jacket off, his thumbs trailing over her shoulders. ‘Have I told you that?’
‘You haven’t.’ She looked up at him, her eyes dark in the dying light.
‘I should have. You are.’ The jacket was tossed aside, Adam’s formerly dry mouth watering at the thought of capturing her nipples with his lips. So blinded was he by the thought that he hadn’t noticed she was pushing at his shirt until she shoved it off his shoulders and down his upper arms.
‘So are you.’ She murmured the words in a low, sexy voice that shot another surge of heated blood to Adam’s groin. But then the fact she’d divested him of his shirt and reached for his T-shirt—her knuckles grazing his abdomen in the process—probably had just as much to do with it. The thought of her hands on him, around him, squeezing his hard length and guiding him to her—it was almost too much…
‘Men aren’t beautiful.’
‘This one is.’ She looked up at him as she lifted his T-shirt.
Adam smiled when she scowled and added, ‘You might have to help me with this—you’re too tall.’
He yanked it unceremoniously over his head and tossed it in the general direction of her jacket. By then Roane had backed through a doorway and her light summer breeze scent surrounded him, stronger than before. Her bedroom. But he didn’t look around him beyond discovering the bed, he wasn’t the least bit interested in his surroundings—the woman in front of him was all he could see.
She took a shaky breath, he saw her hesitate, and then she reached out a hand. When he dropped his chin he saw her fingers tremble and then they touched, tentatively—like someone holding their hand out to an open flame. Her fingertips traced his chest almost reverently and Adam sucked in a sharp breath, forcing himself to stay still and let her explore.
It was torture.
Groaning low down in his throat with a combination of arousal and a sense of defeat, Adam tried unsuccessfully to find a sh
red of sanity to cling to. But when she stepped forwards and pressed her lips to a point directly above his heart it was gone in a second; incinerated in the white-hot intensity of one butterfly-soft kiss. She stepped in close, tilted her head back in invitation, so Adam claimed her lips and drank deep.
Lace-covered breasts pressed against his bare chest and he was sweeping his hands up to cup them before he realized he was doing it. On his lips she tasted of sweet, soft woman—on his body her hands splayed across his abdomen, making him suck in a sharp breath that tensed the muscles beneath her fingers. In his hands she was the perfect palm-filling curve he’d known she would be. Thanks to the combination of all those things his jeans were so tight they were painful.
She was killing him. He was trying to go slow. But the last vestige of control was slipping fast.
Adam wondered if she was even aware of what she was doing to him. Surely no woman on earth could be so naturally seductive in every way and not be aware of her effect on a man? Each gentle touch of her small, fine-boned fingers, each sweep of her tongue against his, each sigh she made or low hum of approval echoed from her lips to his sent molten fire through him.
Maybe she did know what she was doing to him and was doing it on purpose? He hoped for her sake she wasn’t.
Without warning she found the fly of his jeans and cupped his heavy erection. Adam immediately forced himself to pull away, breathing hard from the effort as he gently removed her hand and set her back from him.
‘You need to slow down, little girl.’
Roane’s voice shook. ‘Did I do something wrong?’
‘Hell, no.’ He set his hands on her shoulders and silently persuaded her to step backwards towards the bed. ‘It’s what you’re doing right.’