Stroke of Love

by Melissa Foster

  She dropped the towel, revealing the most exquisite back he’d ever laid eyes on and the most delicious-looking dimples at the base of her spine. Dimples he’d like to run his tongue over. She shimmied into a tank top. Just knowing she didn’t have a bra on beneath the sheer material almost made him lose it. He forced himself to turn away. His feet shuffled, causing Kate to spin around.

  “Sage?”

  He closed his eyes. Fuck. He was caught. Luck was not on his side tonight. Without turning around, he said, “I’m sorry, Kate. I didn’t mean to see…Really, I tried to turn away, but—”

  “But my beauty was too much?”

  Her sarcasm caught him off guard and sent him spinning on his heel to face her.

  “Yes.” Holy shit. Her wet hair covered her shoulders and fell over her breasts in tangled strands. Her tank top barely covered her hips. Sage realized he was looking at her body the same way Penelope had leered at his. Shit. “Jesus Christ, Kate.” Out of respect, he turned his face away. “You’re so damn beautiful.”

  She opened the screen door, and he turned back toward her. She was nibbling on her lower lip, her cheeks flushed pink. Each time he saw her, he was more drawn to her. She could be wearing a paper bag and she’d turn him on. It was more than her physical beauty that reeled him in. It was the million different ways she looked at him, the way her insecurities lay beneath her thick, confident exterior, too deep for most to recognize and too close to the surface for him to miss. He stepped inside, and his hand fell naturally to her waist as he leaned down to kiss her cheek. She turned in to the kiss, and hell if he wasn’t going to kiss her back. Deeply. Passionately. In a way he wasn’t sure he could stop. She tasted fresh, minty, deliciously sensual. Each stroke of her tongue brought his body closer to hers. His hand slipped over the thin line of her thong, lingering at the curve of her hip, and it wasn’t enough. Despite his desire to go slow and share a walk, a meal, something more than their bodies, he had to have more of her. So much more. He grabbed her ass and pulled her against him. Holy hell. With only a thong between them, she might as well have been completely naked. She moaned against his lips, a sexy, aching sound that cried, Yes. More. Please. Sage kicked the wooden door closed without breaking their kiss, then swooped her into his arms and laid her gently on the bed, hovering above her, their bodies so close he could feel her legs trembling.

  The desire in her beautiful eyes left no room for misinterpretation. He brushed her wet hair from her face. “I wanted to wine and dine you.”

  She bit her lower lip. “Not necessary.”

  “But this isn’t just sex. You have to know that.”

  She placed her palm over his racing heart. “I feel it.”

  He settled his mouth over hers again, sliding his hand up her shirt to her rib cage. His thumb brushed over her nipple. She gasped a breath, and he pulled back from the kiss, rested his forehead on hers, and closed his eyes, giving them both a moment to catch their breath.

  “You feel so good, Kate.” He listened to the sound of her rapid breathing, felt her fingers traveling to his back, running sexily along his ribs and spurring him on to take more. His lips found her cheek, her neck, the spot beneath her earlobe that made her shoulders rise. “Let me love you,” he whispered.

  “Yes. Like your shirt says.”

  Sage pulled back with a smile. “What?”

  She bit her lower lip again. Goddamn, she was cute.

  “Your shirt. Artists do it one stroke at a time. Love me one stroke at a time.”

  He laughed softly, having completely forgotten what his T-shirt said. It had been a gag gift from his brother Kurt, the writer.

  “Absolutely,” he said, then lowered his lips to hers again and kissed her lightly. He pushed her shirt up over her breasts, and for a moment the artist in him was stunned into submission as he drank in her flawless skin and her lovely, gentle curves. He had to close his eyes as he lowered his lips between the perfect mounds of her breasts and pressed a soft kiss to her warm skin before moving his hand to touch her breast and his lips to her nipple. She gasped another breath—the seductive sound stoking the fire he felt for her. He moved to her other breast, and she tangled her hands in his hair.

  “Sage,” she whispered, then whimpered when he took her in his mouth while at the same time lowering his hand and grasping her hip.

  He ached to be inside her. It took all his concentration to slow his pace and focus on her pleasure. He hooked a finger in her thong and drew it down slowly, feeling the rise of her hips, as she allowed him to slip it off and toss it aside. Jesus, her skin was silky. He kissed his way down her belly to the softness beside her belly button, where he licked a path, then ran his thumb over the wetness and pressed it to the perfect indentation beside her hip. She moaned again, and he loved knowing he was bringing her such pleasure. Her knees fell open, her hands met his shoulders, urging him lower, but Sage was a patient man, and when he wanted to be, he could be a patient lover. At that moment, having the entire night ahead of them, he wanted nothing more than to love every inch of her. He was in no rush to have this extraordinary pleasure over with, no matter how tempting it was to ease his own need.

  He ran his hand up her right thigh, brushing his thumb along her damp center. Her wetness sent a shock of need through him, which he restrained in pursuit of her pleasure. She writhed beneath him as he teased her with his thumb, grazing her inner thigh with his whiskers. He dragged his tongue along her thigh, feeling her quiver beneath his touch, which made him want to draw out her pleasure even more. She arched her hips, urging him on.

  “Sage,” she whispered again. “Please.”

  He lowered his mouth to her, stroking her with his tongue, tasting her sweetness and feeling the sheets beside them pull into her fisted hands. He used his finger to stroke the sensitive nub that caused her thighs to tense and her hips to rise. His free hand rose to her breast, rubbing her nipple between his index finger and thumb and bringing her up over the edge. Her heels dug into the mattress, and her inner muscles pulsated as he slid his fingers inside her, eagerly stroking her with his tongue as his name fell from her lips, time and time again in long, breathless cries. She came down slowly, panting, arcing one arm over her eyes. Knowing she would be overly sensitive, he used his thumb to caress her again.

  She gasped. “Oh, Sage. Oh…Oh.”

  He slid up her body and took her breast in his mouth, continuing to drive her up toward the edge of another orgasm with his hand. She arched her chest and raised her hips. Her hands clenched the sheets, then found purchase on his back. The pain of her nails was exquisite as she peaked again, her entire body quivering as her hips lifted with each pulsation.

  KATE COULDN’T BREATHE. She was going to die right there on the bed beneath the most talented lover she’d ever had. Not that she’d had many, but three counted as some experience, right? Holy shit, they hadn’t even had intercourse yet and she’d already come twice. This is what Luce was talking about. Their bodies were slick with sweat. Kate panted beneath Sage, who was not breathing terribly hard and showed no signs of wanting to move on to reaping his own reward. She felt his hard length against her leg. He was ready. She was ready. Come on! He was busy driving her out of her ever-loving mind. His tongue ran circles around her nipple, sending erotic little shocks signaling her brain and body to come again. She pulled at his powerful arms.

  “Sage.”

  He gave her nipple one last, long suck, then released it, lifted his eyes to hers, his tongue sliding across the sensitive skin. Oh God, really? How could she ask him to stop what he was doing when it was bringing her right back to the edge of another glorious release?

  She closed her eyes and pressed his head back to her breast. He slid his finger inside her again and caressed a spot she didn’t even know existed, spiraling her into another mind-blowing climax. A thousand lights exploded behind her closed lids. Her hips rose from the bed. She was powerless to stop them, powerless to make heads or tails of anything at the moment, l
ost in a sensation she hoped would never end. When he lifted his mouth from her breast, she whimpered and opened her eyes.

  He smiled down at her. “You’re exquisite when you come.”

  She flushed all over and turned away. He took his fingers from inside her, and she drew her eyes back to him just as he brought them to his mouth, then drew them out slowly and licked his lips.

  Holy shit. She’d never seen a man do that before—everything inside of her went white-hot, and suddenly she couldn’t get enough of him. She pulled him into a kiss. Needing him, wanting to have every inch of him inside of her. She clawed at his back, pulling his hips toward her, forgetting he was completely clothed. He kissed her—hard. Deep. With an intensity that made her feel animalistic. When he groaned against her lips, it heightened her excitement. She pulled at his shorts and he caught her wrist in his hand.

  “Not yet.”

  She let out a breath. “Seriously?” She panted, every inch of her shaking with need. “Sage, come on.”

  He looked at her like she was ruining all his fun, his eyes sad, a pout on his luscious lips. There was more? What could he possibly have in mind? “Please,” she begged. Begged! Oh my God, I’m begging for sex. She felt her cheeks flush.

  He kissed the edges of her cheekbones. “You’re so sexy, Kate. I can hardly stand it.”

  “Then make love to me.”

  He pulled one of her hands over her head and then drew her other one up, holding them both in one of his large hands. He looked down at her with hunger in his eyes and held her gaze. “You okay?”

  She nodded, feeling a tightening between her thighs at the erotic position he held her in. He ran his tongue up the underside of her arm. Goose bumps rose when the warm air hit the slick line. He ran his other hand up her side, over her ribs, then cupped her breast and brought his mouth to it once again. The tension of his hands against her wrists and the sensation of his tongue on her nipple brought her close to the edge again, and when he lowered his hand from her breast to her center and teased her ever so lightly, she moaned for more. She arched her hips, but he settled his body over hers, rendering her still beneath him.

  “Oh…God…Sage.” She rocked her head from side to side, fighting the impending orgasm that pulled at her nerves.

  He took her in another deep kiss, his legs trapping hers beneath him, his chest pinning her to the mattress, his fingers teasing her until she was about to…Oh God. He kissed her harder, breathing air into her lungs, capturing her cries as her body exploded with the power of a thousand needles upon her skin.

  He released her hands and kissed her softly as she lay with her eyes closed, trying to resume some semblance of normal breathing, though at the moment she couldn’t even remember what that might feel like. She opened her eyes as he reached behind his back and drew his shirt over his head, then helped her take off her tank top, which she’d forgotten she even had on. Then he pulled a condom from his back pocket and drew his shorts down, kicking them to the floor.

  She felt her eyes widen at the site of his erection. He was enormous. Massive. Holy shit. He ripped the condom open with his teeth and rolled it on. She was on the pill, but she couldn’t manage to speak. She bit her lower lip, trying to settle her nerves as he lowered himself beside her.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She nodded, still breathing hard. “Nervous.” What they’d just done was so incredible that she couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to be even closer to Sage.

  He brushed her hair to the side. “Me too.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Right.”

  “Kate, I told you I’m not who you think I am. I’ve only been with a handful of women.”

  She rolled her eyes again. “Right.”

  “I can count them on my fingers, not counting my thumbs.”

  She arched a brow.

  “Yes.” He kissed her forehead. “Really.”

  “Hmm.” She believed him, but even if she didn’t, it would have been a very thoughtful fib.

  “Sure you’re okay?”

  She nodded. “Still nervous.”

  “Want to go slow, or want to wait?”

  She drew her eyebrows together. “You just made me come harder than I ever thought imaginable, and you’d be willing to wait for your own…pleasure?”

  “Yes. If that’s what you want.”

  She lowered her eyes to his erection. “That’s what I want.”

  He laughed softly. “You’re so damn adorable. You sure? No pressure. I’m happy knowing you’re happy.”

  She swatted him. “Stop being so damn nice and get up here.”

  He perched above her hips, looking deeply into her eyes. She nodded—approval and desire—and Sage lowered his hips and pushed in slowly, until he was buried deep. They both gasped a breath at their first moment of coming together. He moved with a gentle pace and then in a slow, circular motion, every move stroking that spot he’d lit with fire earlier. She bit her lip and moaned, and he nuzzled against her neck, kissing and licking as he brought her to the precipice again. He hovered there until she thought she might explode, and then finally—Oh God, mercifully—he thrust into her to the hilt and carried her over the edge again.

  “Oh God. Oh God.” She grabbed at his hips, urging him to remain deep, and he slowed his pace again.

  With gritted teeth and tense muscles, he quickened his thrusts again, one after a glorious other, each one a little faster, a little harder, until she was—impossibly—gasping for breath again and again. He looked into her eyes and pinned her to the mattress with the passion she saw there. Then his cheek was against hers as he grunted through his own powerful release, shifting her up on the mattress with each thrust. She wrapped her legs around him to keep him buried deep. He placed his hand beneath her hip, holding her in place as each tiny pulsation of hers stroked him through the last seconds of his orgasm. Kate held on to his muscular shoulders, never wanting to let go. They lay together until their breathing eased and their muscles no longer held any tension.

  Sage reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. “Feel that?”

  Kate closed her eyes, still basking in the glorious feeling of being so close to him, how much of a gentleman he was, how caring and attentive he’d been toward her.

  “What?” she managed.

  “The nervousness. It’s all gone. I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. ”

  She snuggled in beside him, wondering how they could experience such similar feelings at exactly the same time.

  AS DAWN CREPT in, Sage lay awake, listening to the sounds of the birds in the forest, trying to distinguish one high-pitched chirp from the next and thinking about how right he felt with Kate curled up against him. He’d been so nervous to make love to her, and once they were together, they’d moved in perfect sync.

  “Good morning,” she said in a sleepy voice. Her hand slid along his stomach; then she rested her head on his side and hugged him close.

  “Morning.” He kissed the top of her head.

  “Thinking about painting?”

  “No. I was thinking about you, actually, and how nice it was to wake up beside you. I could get used to this.”

  She came up on her elbow, and he saw a content smile on her lips; the shadow of worry in her eyes was gone. “I’ve heard of people saying they felt this way that fast, but I’ve never believed it. Until now. Kinda weird how fast it happened, isn’t it?”

  He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “Yeah, but who am I to question it?”

  She rested her cheek on his chest and sighed.

  He knew she was going through one of her lists in her head, organizing her day, and he was probably taking up the time she had allotted for something or other. He stroked her hair for a minute or two, soaking the feel of her in, before letting her off the hook.

  “We should probably get moving. We need to plan out the mural, and I’m sure you have a list of things to do this morning.” He pulled her into a hug, then sat up
, reluctantly relinquishing the most comfortable spot he’d slept in for years—the spot beside Kate.

  Sage went home to shower and change, giving Kate space for whatever morning rituals she might have. By the time he met her outside her cabin to have coffee, the sun was high in the sky and the birds were drowned out by the cicadas. Kate had a clipboard tucked under one arm.

  Kate breathed in deeply when he kissed her. “My room smells like you now.”

  He took her hand in his and squeezed it lightly. “Wow, that sounds bad. I’ll be sure to bring air freshener next time.”

  She laughed. “I don’t mean it like that. It smells good, like your body wash, or cologne, or whatever it is that makes you smell so fresh and earthy.”

  He cocked his head. “I sound like an evergreen tree.”

  “A very masculine tree, and it’s nothing like evergreen. It’s…I don’t know. You just smell so good, and I’m glad my room smells like you. I love it, so don’t change a thing.”

  Sage pulled her closer, making a mental note not to change his cologne. They walked over to the mess hall hand in hand.

  Sylvia eyed their hands and smiled. “Good morning,” she said with a hint of excitement in her voice.

  Sage felt Kate’s hand tense in his. He opened his hand, giving Kate the opportunity to put some space between them if she wanted to. She tightened her grip, and he smiled down at her. “It’s a beautiful morning, that’s for sure.” That moment of acknowledgment was worth the roller coaster of emotions they’d encountered on the way into each other’s arms.

  After eating breakfast, they sat at a table in the mess hall and began conceptualizing the mural for the school. Sage was having a hard time concentrating. Now that he’d been intimate with Kate, he saw everything she did through new eyes. She jotted notes as they spoke, numbering some, underlining others. He wondered what it must be like to live in such an organized mind. He was such a spur-of-the-moment, go-with-his-gut guy that he couldn’t fathom living any differently, but he loved the way her mind worked. And he was in awe of her ability to manage so many things at once without ever losing her cool. In that regard she was so different from him. When he worked, he was totally focused. Once he started painting or sculpting, he became oblivious to anything and everything around him. It was one of the things he hoped being away from New York might help him to change. He’d done it for as long as he could remember, and while it allowed him to concentrate on his art, which he believed led to a higher quality of work with more emotion and passion in each piece, he also knew that it was a disruptive habit. He’d missed meetings, important phone calls, and God only knew how many women he’d pissed off by forgetting to pick them up or by showing up late. Now that he was with Kate, he had an even bigger reason to try to squelch that habit.