by BETH KERY
“Oh, yes,” Sherona teased fondly as she buttered her bread. “World-famous photographer working on a book that will sell ten copies; nine, if I can’t get my brother to buy a copy.”
“It’d be a great promotional tool for Food for Body and Soul,” Chance told her pointedly.
She set down her knife and just stared at him. His eyes gleamed at her knowingly as he forked a large helping of casserole into his mouth.
“You’re right. It would. Why haven’t I ever thought of that? The proceeds could go to Body and Soul, but more important—”
“It would highlight everything the organization stands for—affordable, healthy food for needy families.”
A thought occurred to her and her shoulders sagged. “We’d never be able to afford the costs to develop something like that, even if I could talk the other board members for Body and Soul into it.”
“Tell you what. Give me a proposal for it—nothing fancy, just a page or so, something I can give to my accountant—and I’ll back it. I’ll pass it on to my publisher, too. Maybe they’ll pick it up. With a wider distribution, it’d be a decent moneymaker for the organization.” She gave him an incredulous glance. “What? I wanted to do some charitable work for Body and Soul. I told you I think it’s a good cause.”
“But you’re already doing the photography for the brochure!”
He shrugged. “I’ll be able to finish that tomorrow morning. I can do more,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Besides, it’ll give me a good reason to return to Vulture’s Canyon soon.”
All thoughts of a possible cookbook vanished. “When do you plan to leave town?”
“Day after tomorrow. I have a photo shoot in the United Arab Emirates scheduled at the beginning of the week.”
Sherona took a sip of her tea, willing the sinking sadness and flash of disappointment she experienced to fade. Of course she’d known he’d be leaving Vulture’s Canyon soon. Chance was a gypsy, given the nature of his job. It was just that in addition to the mind-blowing sex they’d had, she was starting to get used to his warm, natural male grace.
“It must be so exciting for you, going to countries like that . . . seeing those different cultures and ways of life,” she said wistfully.
“I guess it’s been hard for you to travel, bringing up Derek the way you did.”
She nodded. “But not just because of Derek. He’s in college now anyway, and gone for the majority of the year. The diner won’t run itself, though.” She realized she might have sounded maudlin as she nibbled on her bread thoughtfully and gave him a smile. “You know, it’s never been closed once, except for Sunday afternoons, since my folks died.”
“You’re a hard worker.”
“Or maybe I just haven’t got anything better to do in this excuse of a town,” she said, laughing.
After dinner, Chance insisted on cleaning up, claiming he had to earn his dinner. He shooed her into the living room with a cup of spearmint herb tea. Sherona leafed through a magazine, grinning every once in a while when she heard his boisterous efforts resounding from the kitchen—cupboards slamming closed, dishes rattling, and Chance singing a rousing, off-key tune as if to bolster his energetic cleanup.
He joined her ten minutes later carrying his own cup of tea and sank down next to her on the couch. Earlier, as they’d eaten dinner, it had occurred to her how easy it was to talk to him, perhaps because some of the sexual tension between them had broken after their first encounter. She’d even wondered if his down-to-earth insouciance wasn’t the reason she’d felt intuitively comfortable enough with him to do something as risky as she had.
Now that they sat together sipping their tea and talking on her couch, however, Sherona realized that her intense sexual awareness and attraction to Chance Hathoway hadn’t disappeared; it had just ebbed slightly following their charged encounter. As she sat there with her feet curled beneath her, admiring his profile and the shape of his long legs and his lean, muscular torso and just about everything else about his appearance, sexual anticipation mounted by the second, even surpassing her former attraction.
“So,” he said once nightfall was complete and the lamp next to the couch glowed in the windowpane of her picture window, “will you be able to get away tomorrow evening to finish the photo shoot?”
“I probably shouldn’t,” she said quietly, studying her ceramic mug. Even at the mention of the photos and her wanton behavior, arousal curled in her lower belly and tightened her sex. “I’d have to find someone to watch the diner.”
He set down his tea on the table and drew one knee onto the couch, turning to the side to more fully face her. “We can do it another time,” he said so levelly that she glanced up in surprise. She’d thought he’d try to coax her. He smiled, as if he’d known what she expected.
“I’m not going to push you, Sherona,” he said, his voice low and compelling. “You know I’d like to finish the photos, but it’s not the most important thing to me at the moment.”
“What is?”
“Getting to know you better. Making love to you in the way a man normally makes love to a woman for the first time.”
She smiled. “What way is that?”
“Well, I don’t want to give too much of a pat answer, but I’m pretty sure it usually doesn’t involve having her strip down, tying her up and ordering her to pleasure me.”
“I just thought maybe you Aussies didn’t like to mess around with niceties on first dates,” she murmured. He chuckled and reached out and stroked her elbow.
Their gazes held. His grin lingered on his lips. Her heart throbbed in her chest.
He was an incredibly sexy man.
“I want to take off all your clothes and touch you everywhere, Sherona,” he said as he slid closer to her on the couch and his arm draped around her shoulder. She looked up at him, his face just inches from hers. “I know I’ll remember the way you looked when you got out of that lake until my dying day. But I want to remember perfectly how you feel, too.” His lips brushed against hers. “I don’t ever want to forget how you smell and”—his tongue dipped into her mouth, a wet, elusive tease—“how you taste.”
Chapter Seven
Excitement shot through her at his words and sexy caress. She put her free hand at the back of his head and pulled him down to her, pressing her mouth to his, shaping their lips together. He groaned in approval of her hunger and took command of the kiss, spearing her lips with his tongue and boldly exploring her mouth. He pulled her closer, his male hardness and heat tempting her beyond measure. She returned his kiss avidly, sliding her tongue against his, applying a focused suction that made his throat vibrate in a growl. He broke their kiss and set her mug on the coffee table.
“What are you— Chance!” she exclaimed loudly when he stood, bent down and lifted her into his arms like she weighed as much as a grocery sack. Heat flooded her cheeks. Sherona didn’t consider herself to be overweight at all, but let’s face it—she wasn’t a delicate little thing. She was five feet nine inches with some fairly liberal curves.
“Chance, please put me down,” she begged as he stalked through her living room toward the hallway. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
He laughed, his white teeth flashing in the dim hallway. A sexual thrill went through her. He looked a little dangerous here in the shadows.
“Hurt myself carrying you? You don’t weigh a thing.” He paused outside the first door on the left. “This one?”
“No, the next,” she said dazedly. He entered her bedroom and set her down at the edge of the bed. Before she could recover completely, he swooped down and planted a scorching kiss on her mouth that left her flustered all over again.
“I’ve carried packs up the Himalayas that weighed twice what you do,” he said next to her lips a moment later, nipping at her in a completely distracting fashion.
“I’m not exactly Tinker Bell,” she muttered as she nibbled him back.
“No, you’re not,” he said, standing. She caught
the flash of his grin and saw him lunge toward her bedside lamp to turn it to a low setting. He turned back to her. “You’re built just the way a woman should be.” His hot, appreciative gaze left her feeling flushed. “Are you going to tell me you don’t know you have the body of a bona fide goddess, Sherona Legion?”
She blinked at his teasing, challenging tone. The truth was, she did like her body just fine. Not enough to share with anyone lately, though. In fact, she only had two serious love affairs to her credit, and neither of those lovers had made her anywhere near as aware of her body as Chance had from the first.
“I watched you before you realized you were being observed when you were swimming,” Chance said in a low voice, taking a step toward her. “You like yourself, Sherona. You’re comfortable with yourself. It was the most compelling thing about those photos.”
Sherona couldn’t think of what to say. Her throat had gone dry. The sound of his voice mesmerized her.
“I also think you liked me seeing you. It gave you a jolt to know that I was staring at your beautiful face and your long legs and your sweet, round hips and your lovely, wet breasts. You liked knowing you had me at your mercy, didn’t you?”
She swallowed with difficulty. She could tell by the tilt of his eyebrow that he expected an answer.
“Yes,” she said throatily.
He smiled. “There’s no shame in that. Why shouldn’t a goddess glory in her beauty?” He sat on the edge of the bed next to her. “Would it please you to know you were pleasing me, Sherona?” he asked softly. She looked at him and nodded helplessly. “Then stand up and take off all your clothes. Show me all that glory.”
She did as he asked, arousal flowing hot and fast now in her blood. She hadn’t dressed in a particularly sexy outfit after she’d showered. It thrilled her for some reason to know that it didn’t matter what she wore. Chance knew perfectly well what was under the loose, disguising clothing, and he seemed to find it appealing.
She removed her sandals first, highly aware of his focused, narrow-eyed gaze following her every move. Her fingers went to the zipper at the back of her floral skirt. It made a hissing metallic sound as she lowered it, the noise somehow illicit in the strained silence. The skirt fell around her ankles, and she stepped out of it. She glanced up as she began to unbutton her short-sleeved denim shirt. Chance’s stare was trained at the apex of her thighs, his nostrils slightly flared. His gaze flickered upward as she peeled the fabric off her shoulders and the shirt dropped to the floor; it toured hungrily over her hips and belly. Her skin tingled beneath his perusal. For some reason, her fingers followed the path, stroking the skin that had been enlivened by his hot male gaze. Liquid warmth surged at her core when she saw his small, pleased smile.
“The panties next,” he said. “And turn around while you lower them.”
Another ripple of excitement went through her. She turned her back to him and lowered her white panties over her ass, looking over her shoulder for his reaction. Heat and triumph surged through her when she saw the feral gleam in his eyes as he stared at her bare ass. She bent slowly, alluringly, in order to remove the panties, and hid a small smile at his hissing curse.
“Now face me, Sherona,” he said, his voice sounding harder . . . rougher. She turned toward him and saw that he’d parted his long legs. His erection pressed tightly against his crotch and the right leg of his canvas shorts. His eyes looked slightly glazed now, like a fever of lust was growing in him by the second. “Take off that bra and show me those gorgeous breasts.”
She reached behind her and flicked open the hook. His strong throat convulsed as she peeled the cups off her breasts. His cock jumped visibly. He grimaced and stroked it through the shorts.
“You know what I want you to do,” he said.
She wasn’t sure, exactly, but she took a guess. She opened her hands on her smooth belly and caressed herself, enjoying the feeling of her warm, soft skin in a way she never had in her life. She cupped her breasts in her hands and squeezed.
“Ah, Jesus,” Chance muttered. He was starting to look positively wild now. It excited her to know how much he was enjoying this. “Now pinch the nipples. Make them hard for my tongue.”
That got her going. She did what he said, pleasure spiking through her as she teased and pinched lightly at her nipples, making them stiffen and distend. Chance looked so tense with lust, she wasn’t really surprised when he stood suddenly and came toward her. She recalled that just recently she’d told him she was too big for him to carry, but he seemed to tower over her at that moment, all sinew and brawn and hard, aroused male. He put his hands on her waist and spun her toward the bed. She stumbled slightly and fell back on the soft mattress.
He fell on top of her almost immediately, his mouth fastening on the tip of one breast while he filled his hand with the flesh of the other. Her sex turned molten in an instant. She stared up at the ceiling as he finessed her breasts to perfection, drawing on the nipple with a hot suck, lashing tenderly to soothe the agitated crest, massaging the flesh with his big male hand in a way that struck her as thrillingly possessive and knowing at once. She dragged her fingers through his hair, holding him to her, gasping and whimpering in pleasure. He seemed both stretched tight as a wire and content at once as he feasted upon her breasts, moving his dark blond head occasionally between one nipple and the other, molding the flesh in a lascivious fashion that sent sharp spikes of arousal through her.
She whimpered in protest when he lifted his head.
“I’m going to eat your pussy now,” he said, his voice rough, his face tight with desire. He put his hand on her waist and urged her to flip over. When she did, he unceremoniously grabbed a pillow and shoved it beneath her hips, making her bottom rise in the air. He parted her legs firmly and dove between her thighs.
Sherona shrieked at the sudden onslaught of pleasure of his mouth on her pussy. Chance certainly fit all the stereotypes of a daredevil, live-life-on-the-edge Aussie. He made love like he might attack a high mountain or a killer wave—with a gusto and thirst for life that left her stunned and breathless.
He groaned, deep, male and guttural, when he slid his tongue into her pussy, letting her know how much he approved of her taste. She moved her hips restlessly against his mouth, increasing the friction on her sex. Just like he had up in the woods, he swatted her ass, warning her to keep still as he made a meal out of her. He used his hands to part her buttocks and sex, splitting her wide for his consumption. When his wet, stiff tongue slid onto her clit, she let out a yelp and sank her fingers into the comforter. He pressed on that magic button with his tongue, lapped up the juices along her tender sex lips and sucked until she screamed and broke in orgasm.
The shudders of pleasure just wouldn’t stop coming.
Through a thick haze of sensual overload and climax, she heard him chuckle. Vaguely, she was aware that he moved behind her and that his weight left the bed for a moment. He rolled her onto her back and scooted her farther onto the bed. She panted, still disoriented, as he crawled over her supine body. He wore a small smile on his mouth that struck her as slightly predatory and . . . a condom over his thick, long penis.
“I’ve waited for this for such a long time,” he said, positioning himself over her and parting her thighs.
“Since two days ago, you mean?” she asked with breathless amusement, reaching for his shirt and unbuttoning it, starved for the feeling of his smooth skin and lean, hard muscles. She bit her bottom lip to still her gasp of anticipation when she felt his thick cock head press against her slit. He grabbed the back of her thigh and pushed it toward her chest, opening her to him.
“Bless it,” he muttered in a blistering hiss when he thrust and drove his cock into her. Sherona’s eyes sprang wide. God, he was huge and hard and . . . bless it was right. His cock was lodged so deep, it was kissing virgin flesh.
“Aw, Sherona. Screw two days. I’ve been waiting for this for my whole life,” he muttered tensely before he began to fuck her, roc
king her in a cradle of distilled lust, rocking the bed . . . her entire world.
Again she entered a timeless zone of sensual pleasure so rich, she nearly burst with it. He wasn’t careful with her, fucking her with a kind of thorough, pounding, focused energy that she realized typified Chance. He thrust, slapping their pelvises together, then jerked up slightly, giving her an electric jab on her clit that made her squeak in helpless excitement with each stroke. A feral snarl twisted his mouth as he drove into her again and again, sparing her no mercy, forcing her to drown in the rich, carnal experience.
“God, you feel good. I’m finally fucking that pink, wet pussy. I was going starkers staring at it up there in those woods,” he growled through a clenched jaw. “You’re so tight, you’re driving me mad, Sherona,” he said in a heavily accented voice at the same time that he pounded into her so hard, she shifted away from him an inch on the mattress. “Come back here, gorgeous,” he ordered, fixing her in place by grabbing onto the leg that was flexed into her chest with one hand and holding her shoulder with the other. He pumped with short, concentrated strokes, the intense friction making Sherona scream in pleasure. “That’s right. There’s no escaping that, is there?” he grunted before he drove into her one last time. She began to climax, her vaginal muscles rippling and pulling at his cock.
“Eeeowhhh,” she wailed, her eyes going wide as his cock swelled hugely in her tight sheath, ramping up the strength of her orgasm.
He roared. She could perfectly feel his penis jerk and spasm as he fucked her shallowly and ejaculated into the condom.
His breath struck her face in jagged pants in the aftermath. Sherona was just as destabilized by the experience, struggling wildly to catch her breath.