by Unknown
Tiny came toddling across the floor to her. He had woke up and now he was taking a step, stopping to stretch his back legs behind him, then yawning a yawn big enough to fit over a bowling ball. When he finally made it to her, she picked him up and held him tight. He protested with small grunts. “Oh, Tiny, what am I going to do? I love him so much, I always have.”
After a few minutes, she calmed down enough to get up. She went to the bedroom, put on her nightclothes and dared to open the laptop to see what would happen. Amazingly, the trauma she had just endured dynamited the logjam in her brain and the words began to flow again. She poured all of the longing and all of the joy of being in Ethan’s presence into the story and soon the cowboy and Jenna were animated and alive. They were fighting, but at least they were talking. As usual, the storyline and the characters filled the lonely hours and she wrote feverishly until the sun came up.
* * * *
Ethan escaped to his room before his brothers returned from walking Mojo. He didn’t feel like answering any of their curious questions. All he could think about was Lise was here! Right here. The terrible accident that had separated them was just that—an accident. She had not wanted to leave him. He could deal with that. It was over and she seemed to be just fine. He, on the other hand, wasn’t. His body was screaming for hers. He had lain in bed and remembered what she had said—that she relived every detail of their lovemaking over and over again. He found himself doing the same thing; as well as imagining what it would be like to go over to her cabin right now and slowly undress her for his eager eyes and hands; touch her soft, silky skin, caress her tender breasts, spread her creamy thighs and taste her passion.
Damn! He rolled over on his stomach, his huge, aching penis alive with longing. His hips flexed slightly, allowing his shaft to rub against the sheets. He bit the pillow in frustration. God, he needed a woman! Not any woman, he needed the woman who had looked at him tonight and told him she was starved for him…for him!
He forced himself to lie still and allow his breathing to return to normal. There was no doubt he had a bad case of blue balls. Hopefully, he had not done any permanent damage to himself. Tonight, again, he had been sorely tempted to stroke himself to satisfaction, picturing Lise lying on her back anxious to feel him push his hungry cock deep within her heat. But he had denied himself. He swore he next time he came; it would be deep in the warm, welcoming body of Lise Evans.
* * * *
Annalise had not been asleep very long, when a persistent knocking on the door forced her eyes to open. Tiny was going crazy. She dragged herself out of the bed and sleepily made her way to the door. She failed to rouse herself enough to remember to put on her robe. When she opened the door, Ethan was standing there; gorgeous, with big broad shoulders, a chest so wide and muscled her palms itched to mold themselves over his bulging pecs and then down over his abs and even lower. She realized her mouth was open and her eyes had drifted much lower on his body than she would ever be able to explain.
He eased by her and shut the door, so no one could possibly pass by and hear what he had to say to her. “Good morning, sweetheart. I’m glad there’s no one else here but the two of us. Your neck is flushed, your nipples are hard and you have the biggest, brownest pair of bedroom eyes I have ever seen.”
Annalise crossed her arms over her breasts and hung her head.
“Oh, don’t do that, babe. You are the sexiest woman I have ever seen in my life and all you have to do is say the word and I’ll set this tray down, pick you up in my arms and love you until you beg for me to—don’t stop.” He voice was low and seductive.
“Excuse me.” She turned and went back to the bedroom and retrieved her robe, slipping into it and into a pair of white slippers. “I’m sorry to come to the door like that; I’ve only been in the bed for a couple of hours. I was able to write all night.”
“What a waste of the dark, Lise. I can remember when we used to enjoy each other all night long.” She took the tray from his hands and carried it to the bar in the kitchen. She could feel him following her. When she set it down, he was directly behind her. There was no way she could move to the right or to the left, he had placed a broad, tanned hand on either side of the bar. She backed up an inestimable fraction of an inch and her whole body caught fire. He was there, a mountain of a man, completely overshadowing her, touching her from the crown of her head, which rested under his chin, to the soft round curve of her buttocks, which right now were pressing up against the wide, hard ridge of his rock-hard penis. She let out a shuddering breath.
“Ethan, please, there are things you don’t know.”
“You told me everything I needed to know last night. You want me, Lise. Your entire body is crying out for mine. I can feel it, baby.”
“I can’t deny it, but I am begging you to please, please back up.” He did as she asked, he backed up an inch or two and she made her escape. She stepped about three feet away and turned around. Her breathing was ragged. His face was unreadable.
He decided not to press her. She looked as if she were about to snap. “So, you wrote all night?” He watched her with hooded eyes. “Do you do that often?”
“Sometimes. I came here because I was experiencing a pretty bad case of writer’s block. My editor, Cecile, recommended your B&B for its restful atmosphere and beautiful scenery. She thought I might be inspired here.” She climbed up onto a barstool and flipped on the coffee pot she had prepared the night before. “Join me, please. If you have time.” She was playing with fire here, she knew, but she craved the warmth the flames provided.
He accepted her invitation, but he moved the stool close enough so when he sat on it, his leg touched hers. “And were you…inspired, I mean?” He laid his hand next to hers on the bar and let his little finger reach out to lightly rub the edge of her hand. It was the most innocent of caresses, yet it caused goose bumps to rise up over much of her body. The coffee pot beeped its status and she answered its call, rising quickly and gathering mugs from the cabinet and cream from the refrigerator.
“Yes, I guess I was. I probably wrote forty pages last night.”
“What kind of books did you say you wrote?”
Time to change the subject. She didn’t know how to deal with his aversion to romance writers, so the longer she avoided it the better. “Do you still want to go out with me for dinner tonight?”
Her question caught him off guard. “But of course,” he readily answered. She poured his mug full of coffee and took the cloth covering off the tray.
“Oh, wow!” she rejoiced over cinnamon rolls and raisin muffins. He smiled. If food could still excite her, he knew he had a chance.
“Where would you like to go on our date?” She almost choked on a bite of muffin. She hadn’t thought of it as a date, after all they had never actually gone out on a date before. She had never been alone with him in a vehicle or sat beside him in a public place, their only time together had been at a campsite on Lake Travis for eight glorious nights of lovemaking.
“Lone-star Lane, maybe.” She suggested a great local restaurant on the drag by the university.
“Lone-star has good food, but absolutely no atmosphere. Pick some place more romantic, sweetheart.” His knee made contact with hers. The heat was intense.
“Ethan, I’ve never been to a romantic restaurant in Austin.” Or anywhere else.
“No?” He looked at her with disbelief. “During your time in Austin, you were never taken to a dark, romantic restaurant where your boyfriend could steal kisses and run his hand up your thigh, like this?”
Before she realized it, he had his hand under her gown and warm strong fingers were massaging her upper thigh. Another inch or two and he would encounter a scar. She placed her hand over his, effectively blocking his forward progress. “No, Ethan. If you want to go to a restaurant like that, you’ll have to select it yourself.” He let her hold his hand through her gown.
“All right, I can do that.” The fingers of his hand began to m
ove over her smooth, warm skin. “So soft, you are so soft, baby,” he closed his eyes and enjoyed the tactile sensation of his skin on hers.
“Ethan, if we are going to have a good time tonight. I need to go back to bed.” It was true, but what she really needed to do was put some distance between her and this large temptation making her body betray the strict limitations she had placed upon it.
“I’ll go with you.” He rose, towering over her.
“No, you won’t. I need to sleep, Ethan.” Tired, she was losing her will to fight him and if he didn’t leave soon, she was going to crawl up in his big arms and make herself at home. Sleep. And after she rested, love him for all he was worth. But that couldn’t happen, so she had to get rid of him, now. She attempted to push him toward the door and would have had more luck trying to push a mountain.
“Okay, okay. I’ll go, but I will be back to collect you at six tonight, which is,” he looked at the clock on the wall, “ten hours from now. Wear something sexy. Although, I can’t imagine anything you put on not being sexy. You are so hot, babe.” Before she realized, he had drawn close. “Just a taste, Lise. Please? I need you so badly.” Gentle but firm hands grasped her by the shoulders and drew her closer then his warm, hard, broad, magnificent body pinned her to the wall. He ravished her lips—their breath coming in gasps—he plunged his tongue deep within her mouth, stroking hers into submission. He kissed her as if he were reclaiming what was rightfully his. He found no rejection. From the first touch of his lips to hers something within her thawed. Six years slipped away and she had no choice but to respond. It was as if she were returning home. Her arms longed to wrap around his neck, but she drove her fingernails deep into her palms, in a desperate attempt to salvage a modicum of control.
Both drew back, gasping for breath. “That is what a kiss is supposed to be like. Tonight, I want more.” He straightened her hair, her robe and stole one last soft, sweet kiss. “I’ll be back.” He left her standing there, shaking.
* * * *
Annalise had trouble getting to sleep, but when she did, she slept like the dead. Waking at four, she realized she only had two hours to get ready for Ethan.
She had trouble deciding what to wear. He wanted sexy, but in the last six years the term sexy only applied to her stories, not to her wardrobe. It was late August and still hot in all parts of Texas, so all she brought were cool, cotton sundresses. She wished she had time to go out and buy something else, but she had slept the day away. Oh well, this would just have to do. After a hot shower, she chose a white eyelet sundress. Annalise underestimated the impact of the ultra feminine garment. Her golden skin and dark hair stood in stark contrast to the virginal, innocent, angelic looking outfit. She couldn’t see it, but frankly she looked like ‘naughty’ trying to look ‘nice’. Her breasts teased the top of the dress, the tiny spaghetti straps looking too fragile to keep their bountiful prisoners in check. It fell in soft tiny pleats from an empire waistline to just below the knee. She didn’t even own a pair of hose and her shoes were simple, white, strappy sandals.
When she finished dressing, she walked Tiny, fed him and apologized for going off and leaving him. It hadn’t happened very often. If she had a nerve pill, she would have taken it. Ethan was going to be hard to resist.
When the knock came at the door, she jumped. After calming the dog, she opened the door and found Ethan looking devastatingly handsome in a gray suit coat, light blue shirt and gray slacks. She felt woefully underdressed. He didn’t have on a tie, but he still looked like a million dollars. “My God, you’re beautiful,” she said honestly.
He laughed. “You are so good for my ego, babe.”
“Ethan, I can’t go with you! Look at me, I have on playwear!” Annalise was mortified. “Can’t you dress down a little, please; I don’t have anything nicer with me.”
“You are the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen and playwear sounds perfect.” He held out his hand. “Come with me. There is nothing I’d rather do than play with you.” She allowed him to lead her to his car. She had seen the pick-up last night; she should have known it wasn’t his only form of transportation. Parked in front of her cabin was a brand new silver Dodge Viper.
“Wow, you look like your car,” she breathed. He laughed out loud.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He opened the door to the incredibly sexy car so she could slide in. “Lise, you have a way of making a man feel like a man. I have missed that.”
“Ethan, how could you possibly feel any other way?” He wasn’t making any sense. “You have always been the most self-confident, secure in your own skin, sexy as hell, man’s man I have ever known.” She watched him sober. Before starting the car, he turned and looked at her seriously.
“I have felt more like a man with you today than I have felt in a long, long time.”
Ethan’s words disturbed her more than she could say. What could he have meant? Francine had been the sexiest woman Annalise had ever been around. Surely together their passion had been nuclear. The images coming to mind hurt her heart. How could he ever doubt himself?
The Viper roared down Lonely Street and out to the main highway. Being in the close quarters of the luxury car with him was heady business. The sun was still up, although it wouldn’t be for long, but she could see him as he controlled the high-powered car with finesse and grace. The sound of the powerful engine was a turn-on. Just admit it: being close to him is the turn on. Tonight is going to be one exquisite form of torture.
He drove her to an Italian restaurant on Capitol of Texas Highway, an incredibly beautiful place called Selena’s. He parked and came over to open the door for her. Annalise was so unused to this type of attentiveness, she just sat there a moment, hesitating to get out. He smiled, causing her heart to turn over and held out his hand. She took it, enjoying the heated way he was looking at her. Ethan was so gentle and caring, her whole body shivered with nervous excitement. Placing her hand on his arm, he drew her close. He was so careful with her, she felt cherished and special. The sun beginning to set over the Tuscan villa cast golden rays over the terra cotta roof and the massive stone walls. “Ethan, this place is so beautiful. Thank you for bringing me.”
“You are so welcome, love. Taking you anywhere is a pleasure. I can’t believe how beautiful you are tonight…more beautiful than the setting sun, more beautiful than that red rose blooming by the wall, more beautiful than the stars just beginning to show their faces.” When he looked at her tenderly, it was all she could to keep from pulling him down for a kiss.
He opened the door for her and they stepped within the welcoming foyer. Ethan asked the maitre de’ to escort them to a private room. Annalise only wished she were dressed more appropriately, a quick glance at other couples and the beautiful dresses the women wore made her want to drape herself in one of the linen tablecloths. She decided not to dwell on it; she didn’t want to spoil Ethan’s pleasure. The scent of wood smoke, garlic and fresh baked bread permeated the air. After winding through several rooms, they were shown to a secluded table, tucked back in a beautifully decorated nook. Ethan held her chair and she thanked him once again.
A word to a waiter brought a bottle of wine and two crystal goblets. A loaf of savory bread and tub of creamy butter were set before them. Much to Annalise’s dismay, her stomach growled the slightest bit. She glanced up at him, embarrassed. Ethan covered his hand with hers, “Don’t look like that, love. I find your appetite for food almost as endearing as your appetite for sex.”
She didn’t know what to say to that, so she said nothing. Instead, she thought the safest thing would be to engage him in conversation—about anything other than herself.
“Tell me about the bed and breakfast. How did you come to choose to do that with your life?”
“I love Lost Maples. It is extremely fulfilling, taking care of a home and the grounds. Believe it or not, it was Francine’s dream. She didn’t stay to see it happen and I’m glad she didn’t. But if it hadn’t been for h
er, I would still be in New York, deep in the rat race.”
“Francine always had impeccable taste.” She was referring to the Lost Maples and the whole romantic concept of the B&B, but when her eyes met his, he knew she was talking about him.
“Francine may have had an eye for what she wanted, but she had no idea how to take care of it, once it was hers.” She tried to discern exactly what he was saying. She couldn’t.
“How long were you married?” Stop asking questions about Francine, she chided herself.
He didn’t seem to mind. “A miserable two years.”
“I’m so sorry, Ethan.” She foolishly placed a sympathetic hand over his. The wine was going to her head, she felt flushed and was afraid to look down—her nipples were beginning to stand at attention just from the close proximity of her former lover. Thankfully, there were tiny pleats over the bodice masking her excitement.
“I’m just glad to be free of her. On to a more pleasant topic—maybe. Whom did you marry?”
Annalise laughed. “Certainly not a more pleasant topic, my marriage was a bigger mistake than yours, I’m sure.”
“Tell me about him.” He had flipped her hand over, caressing her palm with his long, strong fingers.
Annalise saw no harm in telling him part of the story. “He was on staff at my parent’s church. I let him rush me, I was confused. My parents pushed me. But the good thing was that it was over before it began.”
“What do you mean?”
Annalise struggled with what to say, without saying too much. “Our wedding night proved to be a big disappointment to him.”