What a Woman Wants (A Manley Maids Novel)

by Fennell, Judi

  “Huh?”

  “I said, I don’t want that promise. I want what you said earlier. About wanting me. About the here and the now and fantasies. You don’t get to take that back.”

  He was the only man—the only man—to ever tell her he’d fantasized about her, and as a fantasizer herself, she knew just how powerful those fantasies could be and just how good. Now that she had the chance to make one of her own come true, she wasn’t going to stop. And neither was he if she had anything to say about it.

  She tossed the red condom onto the grass and tore open the green one with her teeth.

  Sean looked at it, then at her.

  Those ripples increased in tempo across his abs.

  She sat back on her heels and very purposely, very determinedly, rolled the condom down. “So what did we do in your fantasy?”

  SEAN gave up. He gave up trying to hold back, he gave up trying to stop what she so obviously wanted—what he wanted—and he stopped trying to figure it out. The will and the clues and the property . . . Hell, he’d sell the only property he had left if that’d fix the situation, but he’d deal with it later. Right now, there was only Livvy.

  “This.” He splayed his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her to him, tasting those lips with an intensity that shocked him.

  She tasted amazing. She looked amazing and she was amazing, sitting there so proud and sure of herself, with the moonlight cascading over her amazing body, and the whole thing was just, well, amazing.

  He groaned into her mouth, wanting this.

  He cupped her breast, his thumb finding her nipple and he circled it. Rubbed it. Smiled against her lips when it hardened for him.

  Smiled more when she groaned.

  “Like that?”

  She nodded, her breath catching.

  “And this?” He cupped her other one. “Do you like this, Livvy?”

  She nodded, nibbling her lip.

  He swept her up in his arms and lowered her onto the grass, this time needing no invitation to lie on top of her. No moment of indecision, no questions. This was where they needed to be, and the rest would work itself out.

  She wrapped her legs around him. “I want you, Sean.”

  He buried his face in the sweet curve of her neck, inhaling the scent that was all Livvy. Apples and lavender and something else. Something indefinable that reached out and wrapped around him, inviting him in.

  He couldn’t say no. “God, I want you, too.”

  “I keep telling you, it’s Livvy.” She gasped when he nipped her shoulder, and cried out his name.

  “I’ll call you whatever you want just to hear you say my name like that again.”

  He nipped the other side and she said it again, a shot straight to his soul.

  He was in a lot more trouble than he’d ever thought possible and right this minute, he couldn’t give a damn.

  He slid his hand down the curve of her body, over her perfect hips, and slipped it beneath her thigh. He was going to run his tongue up that thigh at some point, but right now, there wasn’t any time. “I have to have you.”

  She lifted her leg. “Then take me.”

  He did. She opened for him and he slipped inside her and it was as if everything was right with the world. As if it’d been off-kilter and suddenly it was level. Even. Coherent.

  Which was more than could be said for him. Especially when she looked up at him, her eyes blinking . . . Oh, no. He’d never been good with a woman’s tears. “What is it, Livvy?”

  She smiled, a soft smile, tinged with so much emotion that her bottom lip, the one she nibbled on so provocatively, was trembling. “This is so much better than any fantasy.”

  “You’re better than any fantasy.” He pulled back then, wanting—needing—to move.

  “Don’t go.” Her amber eyes darkened as she tightened her arms—and her inner muscles—around him.

  Nothing would make him leave. “I won’t.” He tilted his hips and sank back into her—in more ways than one.

  She relaxed her hold a little and the corners of her mouth tilted up. “Do that again.”

  “With pleasure.” And it was.

  She closed her eyes and arched her back, her neck curving so enticingly that he had to taste it again.

  He kissed a path from her ear to her jaw, down that sweet soft throat, feeling every beat of her heart with his lips. His own matched it.

  He moved inside her, reveling in the feel of her body accepting his, of her taking him inside her and caressing him, clasping, wanting him. He quickened the pace, the night air warm against his back, the grass smooth beneath his legs, and Livvy so soft and silky and perfect beneath him.

  She wrapped her legs around him, her heels digging into his ass, her nails scoring his back, and Sean couldn’t go slow any longer. He had to have her. Had to drive her as crazy as she was making him. Had to give her the same pleasure he was feeling.

  He kissed her again, long, drawn-out, pouring every ounce of want and need and feeling into it as he surged inside her.

  “That’s it, Sean. Don’t stop.”

  As if he could.

  He thrust into her and it felt so damn good he didn’t ever want it to end.

  He slipped a hand around her waist, then down to cup her perfect backside. He stroked her, smiling when she sucked his tongue into her mouth on a gasp.

  She liked that.

  He stroked her again and Livvy shifted, and it was as if the entire universe converged on that one spot where their bodies were joined. Heat and need and want and sheer unadulterated pleasure ricocheted through him, and Sean had to grab hold of her butt with both his hands and press her against him as he tried to, well, absorb her.

  “Oh, God, Sean, yes. Like that.” She grasped his back, his ass, his shoulders, her knees clenching him, and Sean couldn’t hold back.

  He groaned, tearing his lips from hers so he could arch into her, the moment fraught with anticipation, and he hung there for all of about two nanoseconds before the feelings poured through him, and he surged into her over and over, the climax building inside him. And in her, as she closed her eyes and arched her back and oh, God, yes. There. Once more—no twice—and then . . . and then . . . she cried out his name, taking him over the edge with her.

  He was in so much trouble.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  SOMETIME in the middle of the night, or maybe it was more toward morning since it was no longer dark, Livvy came awake in Sean’s arms.

  The only place she wanted to be.

  She brushed her cheek against his, loving the raspy feel of his stubble, the steady beat of his heart, and the taste of him still on her lips, half afraid that she was loving him.

  Wait. Love? Was she out of her mind? She couldn’t be in love with him. She barely knew him. It’d been all of what? A week since they’d met? People didn’t fall in love in a week. And they didn’t do so after one night of making love. Sure, it was amazing, hot, sexy, intense love, but still one night?

  Her mother was perfect proof that she was misinterpreting last night’s emotions and what they meant. Illogical hormonal reactions weren’t love; they were chemistry. Love was emotion. It was shared hopes and dreams. Liking each other, being friends. The sex was just an added bonus.

  And what a bonus it was with Sean.

  “There’s a bird staring at us.” Sean’s arm tightened around her.

  “What?”

  “A bird. There.” He nudged her.

  She opened one eye.

  A beady black one stared back at her surrounded by jeweled teal and aqua feathers.

  “Oh. The peacocks.”

  “Peacocks?” Sean stiffened beside her.

  She glanced down to see if something else had stiffened.

  Darn. He’d covered himself with his hands.

 
“I don’t think the peacock cares that we’re naked, Sean.”

  “I don’t, either. I just don’t need it pecking at me.”

  She giggled. “Pecking at your pecker? Peacocks eat grain, not meat.”

  “You didn’t just say that.”

  “Oops, I think I did.”

  The peacock strutted closer.

  “I don’t know, Livvy. That thing looks like it might want to go for my eyes.”

  Its yellow, pointed beak could be dangerous. Peacocks could be aggressive. She couldn’t think of a worse ending to their night together than to be running around with a peacock nipping at their private parts.

  Livvy sighed and sat up. The bird backed up just a smidge. Cheeky bugger. Though could she expect anything else from Merriweather’s affectation?

  “Shoo!” she flicked her hands.

  The bird just blinked.

  “Go on! Get out of here!” This time she ripped some of the grass and flung it at him.

  He still didn’t move.

  Sean got to his feet, dropped his hold on his precious package, spread his arms, hunched his shoulders, and . . .

  Squawked.

  The bird ran around the base of the fountain screaming its shrill cry as if it were running for its life. Livvy had the hiccups when she finally stopped rolling on the ground in laughter. “What was that?”

  Sean sat down beside her cross-legged, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be sitting in the middle of an English-style maze in northeast Pennsylvania bare-ass naked, squawking at a peacock. “I did what you’re supposed to do with threatening animals. Act bigger and more ferocious so they fear and respect you and do what you tell them.”

  “Please tell me you don’t apply that to human animals.”

  He arched an eyebrow. The look was entirely too sexy on him for her to take offense. “You’re saying you weren’t an animal last night?”

  “Oh my God. I can’t believe you said that.” She smacked him on that very toned, very smooth muscular shoulder. “That’s not very gentlemanly.”

  “You weren’t into me being a gentleman last night.”

  Damn, she blushed. She hated that she blushed.

  “I love when you blush.”

  Or maybe she didn’t. “Why?”

  He brushed his hand over her shoulder. “Because you get this look on your face. It’s almost shy, but not. It says so much with so little. I love that you’re not afraid to show your reactions. Most people behave the way they think people expect them to, to fit in and be valued. But not you. You stand behind your convictions. You don’t go along with the crowd. Do you know how rare that is? How rare you are?” He brushed her hair off her face. “How special you are?”

  Special. She’d never been special before.

  She got to her knees and cupped his face. Ran her thumb over his lips. No way was she going to be able to walk away from Sean when her sentence was up. Somehow, they were going to have to work out the logistics.

  Or maybe, just maybe, she might consider keeping the place and living here. He’d keep his job, her animals would keep their barn, and she could have what she’d always wanted. A home. And someone to share it with.

  The thought, for once, didn’t make her wince. For Sean, she could live here. There was no law saying she had to sell it right away. She could stay here for a while. Figure things out.

  That was sounding more appealing by the moment.

  “You make me feel special.” She traced his face some more. His gorgeous, sexy face that was every bit as perfect as his movie-star brother’s, but infinitely more precious because of the person behind it. The person she’d . . .

  She couldn’t go there. Not now. Not yet. She was only willing to cop to wanting him more than she’d wanted anyone before, and for Livvy, that was a big admission.

  “Livvy.” He groaned her name when her fingers feathered over his lips.

  “Yes?”

  “I want you.”

  She looked down. He definitely did.

  Livvy smiled. “And you, Sean, shall have me.”

  All of her. Inside and out.

  Because no matter what she tried to tell herself, no matter how she couched it, it all came down to one thing: she was falling in love with Sean Manley.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  THERE has to be a clue around here somewhere. We have to look harder.”

  He didn’t need to do anything harder; his cock was hard enough. And it’d be so much more helpful if she’d put on some damn clothes. Even her barely-there camisole and those Daisy Duke shorts would be better than her perfectly heart-shaped ass, all toned and curvy and naked, sending him into dry-mouth every time she bent over to look under a bench or at the brick path surrounding the fountain. Then there were her breasts. Bigger than a handful—and that old saying was wrong, he liked her large breasts thank you very much—her nipples flat against the pale areolas, each and every freckle surrounding them tempting him to lick them into delicious peaks. He hadn’t seen all her freckles in the moonlight, but this morning when she’d been on top of him . . . He’d pulled her down to lick each one and damn if he didn’t want to do it again.

  “Merriweather had to include the maze in her scavenger hunt. This place is too prominent for her not to want to teach me all about it. Who did what to whom and how our illustrious family reaped the rewards. Sheesh, you’d think she’d have a trophy wall or something.”

  Like an emblem in the barn.

  Ah, nothing like guilt to deflate an erection. He ought to try that more often around her. God knew, he had enough to feel guilty about.

  Which was why, when she’d come up with the idea to search the fountain area all on her own without any clue, Sean had gone along with it. He still didn’t know what he’d do if he found it first. Would he tell her or would he keep it for himself?

  How could he after last night?

  Last night had been . . . It’d been amazing. She’d been amazing. They’d been amazing. Having sex with Livvy was unlike being with any other woman. There’d been something more than just the physical—and it’d scared the shit out of him. It was one thing to admire her and like her and want her, but to feel connected?

  Yeah, the universe was rolling with laughter at him. The one woman he’d ever connected with and he was going to sabotage her.

  He couldn’t.

  There it was. He just couldn’t do it. But how the hell was he going to pull this off and keep Livvy in his life?

  If it weren’t for his brothers’ trust in him, their help and their money, he’d walk away. He’d take his losses and rebuild. He’d started from scratch in the beginning; he could do it again. But building something with Livvy . . . If she ever learned what he was planning to do, it’d destroy the very foundation of what they were building.

  He couldn’t let that happen. He had to figure out a solution.

  “Here! Sean, it’s here!”

  There was her perfect butt again, bouncing—of course—as she pointed to a statue on the edge of the fountain. A few other things were bouncing, too.

  Yeah, he had to figure this out.

  He scooped up their clothes and jogged toward her. Let a few of his parts bounce and see how she liked it.

  Her amber eyes darkened when he got close.

  “Nice,” was all she had to say, but it said a lot.

  She took her clothes and if there were clubs for reverse stripping, she’d be the star of the show. He’d never seen anyone put on a camisole in a way that begged him to remove it more provocatively than she did. And the way she shimmied into her shorts, foregoing her thong—and it was anyone’s guess as to whether that was a good thing or not—had him ready to rip the damn things off her.

  “Enjoy the show?”

  He gulped. “Yeah.”

  She laughed wh
en he yanked on his own shorts. His T-shirt, however, got a different reaction. It was in tatters and they both remembered why. How.

  She started to tuck her hair behind her ear, but Sean stopped her. “Let me.”

  She smiled up at him and it took him a few seconds to be able to breathe. He used those seconds to do what he’d wanted to do with that wayward bit of hair since he’d first laid eyes on her. “You said you found a clue?”

  She nodded, spilling those curls that had trailed across his abdomen so erotically last night over her shoulders. “The girls at school used to tease me that my family must have buckets of money lying around, so when I heard about the special bucket at this fountain that actually did have coins in it, I’d had to come see it. Hence the getting lost in the maze thing.”

  “You’re kidding, right? There’s a bucket of money just hanging out on the property?”

  “It has pennies for people to make wishes with. They get recycled when the fountain guy cleans it out, but still. The idea is a bit much. Right up Merriweather’s alley.” She rocked back on her heels—her naked ones and not the combat boot ones, thank God—and smiled that smile that could get a rise out of him at first glimpse.

  And he meant that literally. “I give up. What?”

  “This.” She held up a little oval oblong silver tube. Looked like a bullet on steroids with a seam around the middle. “The next clue.”

  “What’s it say?”

  She opened it.

  Well done, Olivia. Five more to go. Will you finish in time or are you angry enough at an old woman to throw in the towel?

  You might not want to do that just yet, though. You’ll need that towel—and a swimsuit—for this next clue. But while you’re here, study the fountain. The stones come from our lands in England and the statue was commissioned for Phillip Martinson in honor of his wife, Catherine. Legend says this maze was their trysting place, gifted to her by him on their wedding anniversary. A true love match. Sadly, not all Martinsons have been as lucky in love. That is why this land and this home are so important. Never count on anyone but yourself to make your way in life. People can leave; the land is permanent.