by Lori Foster
Then she thought of their lovemaking and the greatest sex she’d ever had. Some wish.
She thought of Marc’s compassion for Sally and other divorced women. Of his humor, his fun, his ability to not take himself too seriously and laugh at the situation they’d gotten into. She thought of the way he’d made love to her and how he treated her and made her feel alive and wonderful and how this would all end unexpectedly.
Marc Adams might be under some kind of wish influence, but the only influence she was under was Marc Adams. She threw her pencil across the room. “Well, hell. Now what?”
When it came to men, she sucked. She’d fallen for Frank, who cheated on her, and now Marc, who would go back to Cleveland and forget about her. She should do herself a really big favor and join a convent or at least stay away from Marc until he left town.
Four
Marc slapped on mosquito repellent, then laced up his running shoes. The full moon glowed overhead in the clear night sky, casting a ribbon of silvery light across the lake. Fishing boats with lanterns and a few rowboats dotted the calm water. A night for lovers, except Marc’s lover was nowhere to be found.
Frogs and crickets chirped their mating calls as he hit redial on his cell and listened to the continuous ringing at the other end followed by Julia’s voice requesting a message. He had a message for her all right, Where the hell are you?
He’d said he’d call, and that’s exactly what he’d been doing for the last hour and a half. He wanted to see her, and he just plain wanted her. But since that wasn’t going to happen, he’d run off some of this frustration. He sure as hell had to do something with it.
He stretched, then jogged down the gravel path that disappeared into a thicket of apple trees. He came out the other side by the docks, where vendors sold refreshments and rented boats during the day. At night it sat deserted…except for Julia.
He stopped, watching her hair play catch with moonbeams while she disassembled her tripod and camera. His breath caught, and it had nothing to do with running—thirty seconds was not a run—and everything to do with Julia.
Damn, he’d missed her. He missed the way she walked, the sophisticated tip of her chin, her clear voice, her gentle laugh, her wiseass comments. He’d thought about her all day and how he wanted to be with her all night. Sure the sex was good. Hell, it was beyond good, but most of all he just wanted her near.
He walked in her direction, calling her name so as not to sneak up on her in the dark and scare her half to death.
“Marc?” Her eyes rounded, but she looked more apprehensive than happy to see him.
He pulled up beside her. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you.”
She picked up the camera cases and headed for her car parked by the docks. “I got some shots of the moon and lake to frame up for the tourists.” He snatched the tripod and followed as she added, “You know, A Delicious Moon. Make some note cards and stationery to sell at the studio.”
He put the tripod next to the cases in the car while Julia rambled, “Think I’ll get some other shots from the other side of the lake. A little cash is always good and—”
“What’s wrong?” He cupped her shoulders and looked into her eyes, but she refused to meet his. She seemed nervous, unsure, like they’d just met. “Have I done something to upset you?”
“No.” This time her eyes met his.
In desperation, he bent his head and captured her lips in a heated kiss, the luscious feel reminding him of last night. At least the kisses were the same, the feelings the same, but something was going on. “We have to talk, Julia. I’m no good at mind reading, and we’re too old for games, what gives? Something’s off, like you don’t want to see me. Is that it?”
She gave him one of those forced grins he hated and that she’d assumed over dinner last night when they were bored to unconsciousness. “I have photos to take, you’re out for a run, and I don’t want to interrupt that so—”
“Bullshit. You want to get rid of me, and I have no idea why.”
“You’re one damn stubborn man.”
“I think I met my match with you. The Julia of last night was too wonderful to let go without finding out what the hell happened to her.”
She raked her hair back from her face. “You just didn’t see me for who I really am, Marc. Last night was sort of a…fluke. I just divorced, you were there all handsome and gorgeous, we found a settee—”
His left arm snagged her waist and led her behind the boathouse. Sound carried over the water, and this discussion did not need to be rehashed tomorrow morning over every neighbor’s fence. “I’m not leaving till you level with me. Something’s going on that you’re not telling me about, and it’s not that you don’t like me. If I have to camp outside your damn studio, I swear I’ll do it. I’ve never fallen for anyone as fast and hard as I’ve fallen for you. Whatever’s bothering you, we can fix it, Julia. Together we can fix damn near anything; that’s the kind of people we are. We make things right. That’s why I’m a PI and you started MRS. You just have to give me a chance, give us a chance.”
Except there is no us, Julia thought to herself, looking into his eyes full of sincerity and true feelings for her. Damn her wishes for getting her into this mess and damn Marc Adams for not letting it go.
He kissed her again and slid his hands under her T-shirt, heating her skin already damp from the July evening humidity. His lips were even more delectable than she remembered, and she’d remembered the whole blasted day.
“Ah, Julia.” He breathed her name softly into the night and wrapped his arms around her, cherishing her close. “Now, this is the woman I remember.”
Moon glow reflected in his clear blue eyes. Her breasts suddenly felt heavy, the juncture at her legs moist, anticipating their lovemaking. Damn traitorous body. Her brain knew this was all wrong. Then he wedged his leg between hers, parting them. His thigh rubbing against hers, then higher, her brain surrendering to her heart.
How could she let him go? Just a little more time, she thought, desire eating at her like some out-of-control fire. Just a day or two. She felt like Cinderella in Nikes except she’d never get the prince, and she had no idea when he’d just ride off into the sunset, or sunrise.
“The boathouse.” She nodded at the gray-and-white clapboard building with neat flower boxes. “Can you do some trick and get us in there?” She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a long, steady look. “I want to make love to you, Marc.”
“In there?”
“Hey, you dragged us into a coatroom. The sheriff just came by here, making his rounds of the town so no surprise visits.”
His brow furrowed in question. “Okay, first you wanted me gone. Now you don’t. You’re not the fickle type, Julia. Tell me what’s upsetting you.”
She could just imagine saying, Oh, Marc, I just wished all this and you don’t really care for me. Or something like that. Yeah, he was sure to believe every word.
Instead she said, “Nerves, work, divorce, my car needs an oil change. Life’s catching up with me, that’s what’s wrong. But I’m better now.” She gave him a genuine smile. “Having you near makes everything better.”
He pulled her to him, her cheek against his broad chest, his steady heartbeat a balm to her frazzled state. He massaged the back of her neck and her shoulders, the knots of tension melting away as he applied gentle pressure. His breath tangled in her hair, the heat from his body mixed with hers, and his arms felt secure, trusting, dependable.
A night breeze wafted off the shimmering water. The scent of apples surrounded them as Marc kissed her hair. He tipped her head back and kissed her eyes, then her mouth. It was one of those perfect nights, the kind a woman remembered all her life…and Julia would remember.
“I’m not hitting you up for sex, you know. We can go for a walk, talk, and look at the moon.” His hands massaged her spine down to the small of her back.
She closed her eyes, reveling in his touch. “I’ve had my fill of this
moon. And I’d rather spend the night with you…really with you…while we have the time.”
“You’re acting like there won’t be other nights.”
She opened her lids, and he looked deep into her eyes, her soul. “I’m not leaving you, Julia,” he said with conviction and promise. “Cleveland is two hours away, and I plan on hanging around here for a while.”
His expression morphed into a sensual grin. “And if you want to make love with me tonight, I can’t imagine a more wonderful way to spend an evening.”
He went to her car and tossed in his cell phone. He snagged a blanket from the backseat. She looked at the blanket and frowned. “Last time I used that I had a picnic with Frank. Told him I was divorcing his lying carcass.”
“You did it over a picnic? That was very civilized.”
“I needed to do it myself, not through an attorney. I packed sandwiches, no sharp or blunt objects around so I wouldn’t do anything I might regret later, though strangling his fat little neck had definite appeal. I felt betrayed. I should have known things between us weren’t right, but I thought it was one of his little phases. Frank had a lot of phases. The sushi phase, the wine phase, the opera phase—I really hated that one—and the Viagra phase, though I only knew about that one by rumor.”
“How could he need that kind of help with you around? Just seeing you and being near you is a turn-on, Julia. Your scent, the spark in your eyes, the curve of your hips.” He ran his hand over her and gave her a half grin. “Damn, woman, I’m turning myself on just talking about you.”
He took out his wallet and selected a credit card. He wedged it between the doorjamb and the lock of the boathouse, gave it a little nudge, and the door sprang free.
“Thought that only worked in movies.”
“And old locks in Delicious, Ohio.” He pushed the door open and spotted a desk in the corner. Rowboats, canoes, paddles, and other boating paraphernalia were scattered about. He swept her into his arms, his eyes smoky blue. “I’m making sure you don’t change your mind again.”
“I won’t.” She kissed him and kicked the door shut with her toe. His breathing accelerated; his arms held her tighter. He nearly tripped over a trashcan in the shadows. She dropped the blanket onto a pile of boat cushions by a window, and he toppled them both into the heap.
She laughed as she landed on top of him. “You win.” She smoothed back his hair and memorized his eyes, nose, mouth, and chin. She kissed his cheek, rough with late-night stubble. “The settee was more comfortable than this.” She sat up, straddling his hips.
His eyes, dark as the night sky, widened a fraction. “What are you thinking, babe?”
“I’m thinking about you, all of you. Especially the part I haven’t seen…yet. Though the part I have seen is pretty impressive.”
Was that a blush creeping across his face? Even in the dim light she knew it was. Marc Adams, super-stud, may have a wilder reputation than he deserved. She smiled to herself, liking him all the more. Then she slowly slid up his shirt, taking in his trim waist, firm abdominal muscles, and fine broad chest. She ran her hands over him, the curls of sandy hair tickling her palms, his bare skin making her heart thud. She bent her head and kissed one hard flat nipple, then licked it, making it wet and shiny.
“Julia,” Marc said in a deep, throaty voice as she did the same to the other nipple. She edged backward now, straddling his thighs, and spread a line of wet, tantalizing kisses across his torso, his solar plexus quivering, her kisses stopping at the waistband of his shorts. Then she French-kissed the indention of his navel.
His chest expanded as he sucked in a quick breath. His fingers tangled in her hair. “You’re playing with fire. I think I should take over from here.”
“Fat chance.” She eased his shorts over his hips and gasped. “A jock strap? And I got all that grief over a girdle? What’s this?” She snapped the waist band.
“Ouch. I was running…least I intended to…what did you expect?”
“Bounce?”
“I’m supposed to just lie here and let you make fun of me?”
She grinned and gave him a sultry look. “Oh, absolutely.”
“Amazing how wrong you can be sometimes.” He yanked up his shorts and flipped her on her back, pinning her under him, grinning ear to ear.
“I wasn’t finished.”
“Depends on your point of view. He sat up and pulled off his shirt, then tossed it into a rowboat, at least she thought that’s where it landed. She was too busy ogling him to be positive. He tugged her T-shirt over her head and sent it flying. “I think this society has way too many undergarments. It’s amazing that anyone ever has sex with all this stuff in the way.”
He reached behind her and unfastened her bra. Her eyes glazed as he peeled it over her shoulders. Looking his fill, he let out a soft whistle, his appreciative gesture making her nipples hard and her breasts swell. “You were gorgeous last night. In the moonlight, you’re astounding.”
He fondled one breast, then the other, making her crazy for wanting him. “Oh, Marc,” she exhaled as he suckled her nipples, taking them deep into his mouth.
She closed her eyes, enjoying the moment, the incredible sensation…till he stopped to slide off her shorts, taking her panties in the process. Her eyes flew open. “Oh, Marc!”
He knelt by her feet. “I can’t decide which oh, Marc I like better.”
“I’m…naked.”
“You have shoes.” He took them off. “Now you don’t.” He spread her legs just a bit and kissed her ankle, the sensation reverberating up her legs, pooling where they met, making her weak and glad she was lying down. He kissed the inside of her calves. “Where exactly are you going with this?” She struggled to form words.
“Up.” He parted her knees and gave her a heated look. “This was your idea, remember?” Before she could think of some wiseass answer he kissed the inside of her thighs. Her body temperature soared, and she trembled as he ran more kisses…up.
The sight of his head at the apex of her legs made her weak, and when he licked her intimate folds, swollen and tender with anticipation, she nearly swooned…or whatever women do when they almost pass out.
“Bend your knees for me, babe. Your body was made for this. It was made for me to love. I want to taste all of you.”
“Taste? Marc? I—”
His mouth covered her, and she gasped, her hips arching off the pillows and losing all control. His tongue and lips explored her, sucked and teased her, then took possession of her again and again, sending her into a rapid explosive climax she never expected.
“You are so wonderful, Julia,” he whispered as he held her in his arms and kissed her face. She looked at him through a hazy fog, realizing he was beside her now. “How’d you do that to me?”
“Making love to you is an out-of-body experience for me. You respond to my every touch, every caress. A man couldn’t ask for more.”
Her eyes finally focused on his. “But that wasn’t the plan.”
“Plan?” His eyes opened wide.
She bit her bottom lip. “Well, not exactly a plan, but I want you in me, with me. I want to give you pleasure, too.”
He smiled. “Oh, babe, we can do that.” He reached into the back pocket of his shorts, snagging his wallet.
Taking advantage of the situation, she pushed him onto his back and slid her body on top of his, the feel of her bare breasts against his chest hair nearly making her come again.
He stared up at her. “I was off balance. That was sneaky. Didn’t we start this way?”
“But we didn’t finish.”
His look turned heated. “And you had clothes on.”
“The important word is had. Now, where was I before I was so rudely interrupted.” She pushed herself up and skimmed her breasts sensually across his chest, his abdomen, his navel, her nipples teasing and seducing him. “Julia,” he ground out. “What are you doing to me?”
She kissed him. “Doing to us.”
&
nbsp; She straddled his knees, and he could feel her feminine heat on his bare skin, tormenting him beyond his wildest imagination.
“I think I was here before you upended me.” She laid her hand possessively over his arousal, gently pressing through his shorts. “My, my, what is this?”
“In about one second I’m going to show you what this is.”
She pressed her finger gently across his lips to silence him. “Patience is a virtue.”
“Screw patience.”
“I’d much rather you did that to me.” She let her palm linger, the warmth and her touch making him crazy. Then she eased his shorts down over his bulging erection. “Nice package.” She carefully took off the jock strap and tossed it into the air while taking in every long, hard, thick pulsing inch of him. Then she bent her head and tasted him with the tip of her tongue.
“Julia!” He sucked in air through clenched teeth, his whole body tensing into one hard mass. “You can’t…” But he seemed to lose his train of thought as she took his engorged penis into her mouth.
Marc felt all the air rush from his body. He fisted his hands, fighting for restraint as her sweet tongue licked and tormented him like he’d never been tormented before. “God, Julia. No more.”
She took the condom and smiled sweetly…much too sweetly. Then winked. “Oh, there’s more.”
She tore the package and rolled the latex over his dick, slowly, provocatively, letting her fingers linger and stroke and massage.
“Dammit, Julia!” He tumbled her on her back, keeping himself positioned over her. “You’re too much.”
Her face flushed, and she ran her hands over every inch of his solid torso. “I want to remember you hot and sweaty and sexy, just as you are now.”
Her eyes glistened; his knees spread her legs wide. Then he fused his hips tight to hers, his dick tight to her swollen wet lips, open for him. “I’m not going anywhere, Julia. You’re going to have me around for a long time.”
She framed his cheeks in her delicate hands, the moonlight falling across her lovely face. “You’re terrific, Marc. I didn’t know God made men like you for real.”