To hear him say breasts, to feel his hot breath in her ear, to smell his subtle woodsy scent was far more intoxicating than the wine she’d had at Peter’s and the beer she was now sipping.
She gave him a playful pout. “I’m sad you needed reminding.”
“Oh, I didn’t. Trust me.”
He took her hand and placed it on his thigh, and as she ran her hand up and down it, she recalled from their night together how firmly shaped and muscled he was. She remembered, too, the softness of his inner thigh, and how touching him there had aroused him. She hadn’t kissed him there and made a note that she wanted to. She wanted to kiss and lick and scrape her teeth along his soft flesh, traversing her mouth up to his—
“Want to get out of here?” Sean said suddenly. Had he been reading her mind? His gaze was intense, burning, and she could feel his desire for her like a physical force field, enveloping her, and her own body was responding.
Yes, Sean. Yes, I do.
“What about our beer?”
They were nearly full.
“I have beer at home.”
“So do I,” she said. “And yes, I think we should get out of here.”
They each took a long last drink of beer, and then Sean left cash and a generous tip on the bar. He grabbed Annabelle by the hand and almost dragged her back outside, where he then pulled her close and kissed her, hard and hungry, and the need of his kiss stole her breath away. Someone walking into the bar whistled at them. “You two are making the snow melt!”
They broke apart. Annabelle laughed, embarrassed.
Sean cradled her face in his hands. “Sorry to rush you out of there. I just realized that right now I don’t want to be out in a bar surrounded by other people. I just want to be with you.”
“One simple hand on the thigh,” she teased.
He laughed. “What can I say? You turn me on.”
She felt a huge smile burst forth. It felt so good to have a man—Sean!—say that after years of not hearing it. She felt like with Sean, she could finally be herself. A geek, yes, but with a side of sex goddess thrown in, too.
“Do you want to come back to my place?” she asked, glad that everything was tidy except for her office—that was a disaster that she probably wouldn’t organize until after her dissertation was complete—but her bed was straightened and everything else clean.
“Why, yes,” he said. “Yes, I do.”
25
Annabelle’s apartment was a ten-minute drive away. Classic rock played on the radio, the pounding chords of Led Zeppelin amplifying the thickness of expectation. She put her hand on his thigh like it had been in the bar, but this time she let it wander, let it stroke. Sean shifted to give her better access, and by the time they pulled up in front of her apartment building, Annabelle was desperate with arousal.
Sean was, too. After he parked, he gave her an appreciative grin. “I’m glad you don’t live too far.”
“Me, too.” Annabelle leaned to him and gave him a deep, soulful kiss as she stroked him, feeling herself get wetter and wetter with each swell of his receptive cock, with each push of her tongue. She wanted to do things to him she’d only fantasized about doing to a man. She felt a new power, a new understanding of how fun sex could be with the right partner.
“Let’s take this inside,” he said, and after another kiss, a goodbye-for-now kiss, he came around the truck and helped Annabelle out. The rest of the steps to the apartment were a blur of fumbling keys and kisses and Sean’s hand grabbing her ass and her bursting the door open at last.
The door closed and their clothes came off, hats and scarves and coats and sweaters and pants and peeling off base layers and then they were both standing in Annabelle’s living room in their underwear. Sean’s boxers had hockey sticks on them, which made Annabelle smile.
They crashed together, Sean kissing her hard and deep, his hands roving across her almost-bare body, and her mind was so clouded with lust that she couldn’t think of anything beyond the present moment. She was slick with desire, and when Sean stroked her there, she almost orgasmed on the spot. They stumbled together toward Annabelle’s bedroom and fell onto the bed. She hooked her leg around his hip, angling so that she could feel his erection, hot and tantalizing as it pressed against her.
She wriggled out of her underwear and unfastened her bra, sending it flying into a lampshade. Sean pulled off his boxers, freeing his shaft which was so tall and erect that it hit up against his muscular abdomen.
Annabelle touched him with a gentle hand, eliciting a groan. She marveled at how he was velvet soft and yet hard as iron at the same time.
“I want to pleasure you,” he murmured against her throat. His hands moved downward, already teasing. “I want you to just lay back and let me do all the work.”
His words inflamed Annabelle, and so did the way he was kissing her, soft and slow, moving from her mouth to her throat to her breasts. He’s going to go down on me, she thought with a thrill of anticipation. No man had ever done that to her before. She’d always been too self-conscious, but Sean didn’t make her feel self-conscious. He made her feel wanted, and she was more than ready to let him take command. He could do whatever he wanted to her, no matter how intimate. She trusted him with her body as much as she’d trusted him with her life during the mountain rescue.
Sean’s mouth moved down to her stomach, and his hands gently pushed her thighs further apart. Holding her hips in place, he made a small, almost growling noise of approval as he tasted her juices. His tongue was gentle as it teased her, and she called out his name, first in shocked surprise at how good it felt and then in appreciation. She couldn’t help but buck into him, couldn’t help but beg him as her orgasm, which she was sure would be the first of several that night, built and built, an agonizing ache of tremulous pleasure that moved through her like a vibrating note of music.
“Sean, please!” she begged. It could have been a whisper or a scream, she wasn’t even sure. “Oh! Just like that, yes!”
He knew what her body wanted, and his mouth held firm, working her at an increasing rhythm until all the notes of pleasure converged. She cried out, clenching the bedsheets in her hands.
Then he was at her side, smiling lazily at her as she recovered, caressing her breast with one hand and leaning on the other to watch her. “Was that how you like it?.”
“Mmm.” She gave him a soft kiss on the lips. “Couldn’t you tell?”
He traced his hand from her breast to her wetness and smiled as she gasped from the jolt of loose, swollen sensitivity that already wanted more. “I’ll ask you again.” He slid his finger inside her and went deep, curving into her as his more-than-ready cock pressed against her leg. “Did you like that?”
He wants me to talk dirty, she realized. Again, an unfamiliar experience for her. I can do that, she thought. I can do that and more.
She drew his hand from her and spread her legs for him. “I liked it, Sean, but I need your hot cock inside me right this second.”
Sean was so turned on by Annabelle—by the trembling of her body beneath his touch, by her coarse bedroom talk, by how she spread her legs for him—that when she said she needed him inside her, she didn’t need to ask twice.
He rolled on top of her, and she moaned when he plunged forward, thrusting. He could feel the slight aftershocks of her first orgasm even now as he buried himself to the hilt. He was already pulsing, already close to climax. How could he not be with a woman like Annabelle, who moved him in ways he hadn’t even known were possible?
She was so wet for him, because of him, and damn if that didn’t make him feel like a million bucks. She used her nails as she grabbed his ass, a tiny pain and a tremendous pleasure, and urged him to take her harder, faster.
Sean wanted to take a long time with her, all night, and yet she felt so incredible that he was on the edge of control. But as long as he could, he moved with deliberation, pulling back ever-so-slowly and then slamming home hard and fast, feeling every ti
ght inch of her envelope him. With each of his thrusts forward she let out a small moan and raised her hips to meet him.
Sean buried his hands in her bright curls, cradling her head, drinking in the heady vanilla-and-snow scent of her. He felt surrounded by her essence, that vulnerability and wildness all wrapped into this package that was his. His. He claimed her with each surge, making her pant and writhe beneath him.
Her lips, so luscious, were open as she got lost in the moment, and he teased them with his tongue, feeling her nipples perk as he did. She took his bottom lip between her teeth and pulled gently in a way that drove him crazy. Annabelle cried out and wrapped her legs full around his waist, pulling him deep inside her. He felt the pulsing of her second orgasm a split second before he came, too, a white-hot starburst of pleasure that left him gasping.
He collapsed onto her, feeling his sweat mix with hers, and said her name. “Annabelle.”
She worked her fingers through his hair and gripped it. “Sean.”
“I don’t know which I like better,” he said. “Saying your name or hearing you say mine.”
“You can like them both the same.”
“You’re so smart.”
They laughed together, and he liked how her hair was flung in all directions, a halo of flame that was messy from their lovemaking.
They lay together for a few more minutes, Sean on top and cradling Annabelle beneath him, her legs still wrapped around him in the clinch. He was disinclined to move. Her eyes closed and her face was relaxed, a half-smile on her lips.
Sean squeezed her tight and kissed her forehead. “Do you want some water? I’ll get up.”
Her eyes fluttered open. “Yes, please.”
Annabelle’s kitchen was small and clean, and her fridge was almost empty. There was a bag of carrot sticks, a container of hummus, a few condiments, a half-gallon of milk, and four eggs. Curious, Sean poked his head in her freezer and discovered three pints of Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Therapy, organic frozen meals, ice trays, and, bizarrely, a bottle of water. The water wasn’t frozen.
Sean glanced behind him, suspicious. Maybe it wasn’t water. People kept vodka in their freezer, but only an alcoholic would disguise it in a water bottle.
He unscrewed the cap, dipped a finger into the liquid, and tasted it.
And chuckled.
Annabelle had put salt water in her freezer. It was a quirky, scientist-ish thing to do, and Sean was utterly charmed by it.
He grabbed two glasses from a cabinet, filled them with water from the tap, and returned to the bedroom, where he was struck by the sight of her curled onto her side, head propped up, her hair a tumbled cascade on the pillow beneath her. He wanted nothing more than to curl up with her, naked body to naked body, and fall asleep.
But first, he had to ask. “Why is there salt water in your freezer?”
She giggled. “I know it’s weird.” She accepted one of the glasses and took a sip. “It’s just a stupid school science experiment thing, but it never ceases to trip me out how water works. How it interacts with substances, forms solutions, acquires totally different properties. Just a reminder of how magical it really is.”
“Geek.” Sexy geek. Sexy, sultry, sensuous geek. He crawled into bed and kissed her deeply. “My geek.”
“Were you worried it was vodka in the freezer?” she asked.
He lay next to her, pulled her close, and kissed her forehead. “It did occur to me.”
“That would be sad,” she said and cuddled with him. “Don’t worry, Sean. I’m not a lush, and I’ve got no secrets from you.”
As Sean held her close and watched her drift off to sleep, he felt an odd mix of emotion. It was something close to love and something close to fear, for while he believed her when she said she had no secrets from him, he’d just spent several hours with her at a dinner party and had witnessed yet again how brilliant she was. He’d seen how her older colleagues listened closely to her, drinking in the unique way her mind worked, and he felt a little sad that her mind was crammed with knowledge that was out of his reach. Locked in her brain was a whole complex world, a forest of expertise, layers and levels of data that had come from years of study and effort.
Fantastic sex notwithstanding, would he—could he—be enough for her?
26
Sean woke early enough to make coffee for Annabelle. He would have made her breakfast, too, but she apologized for having only cereal.
“I need to remember to get to the store more often,” she said. “And I usually skip breakfast.”
“You need fuel for that brain of yours,” Sean said. “How about we go to the North Star for a proper breakfast. Then I have to go grocery shopping, anyway—we can go together.” As he said it, he realized that he wanted to plan the whole day with Annabelle, that even something as mundane as grocery shopping would be so much better with her. With every previous girlfriend, he’d enjoyed date nights and regular sleepovers, but had always been eager to get on with his own daily routine: the gym, errands, hockey practice, hanging out with the guys. But with Annabelle, he didn’t want their time together to end. The feeling was even more intense than it had been after their first night spent together.
This is different, he thought. She’s different.
Annabelle, though, made a disappointed face. “I have time for breakfast, but I’ve got to get to my office by nine. Sundays are quiet, and I can use the mainframe computer without waiting, so that’s when I do a lot of my data crunching.”
Not wanting to get in the way of the crunching of data, Sean made plans to meet up with her for dinner and whatever came after that. He had some very definite ideas of what he wanted to do with Annabelle that night; from the playful way she swatted his butt as they walked out the door together, he thought she might have some ideas herself.
They drove separately to the café but entered together, pausing to greet Claire Roberts, who was having breakfast with Alice Abbott, editor of the Golden Falls Gazette, and a man in a funny tweed coat who Sean thought might have been the gossip columnist. He hoped that his and Annabelle’s names stayed out of the paper, though; he got the sense that their high-drama glacier rescue had been more publicity than she ever wanted.
They snuggled into a cozy little booth and shared a veggie frittata and a melty, delicious cinnamon bun. True to her declaration that she was a coffee-holic, Annabelle had three cups to Sean’s one.
“I have to get going,” Annabelle said, regret in her voice. She pushed back a wave of her long red hair, left unbound and wild after their night together. It made Sean want to drag her back home and pull her into bed again.
He stood, and they kissed goodbye. Sean liked kissing her in public, liked knowing that the most beautiful, interesting woman in the room had chosen to be with him. He felt proud of Annabelle and so he said, “Work hard, but not too hard. Can’t wait to see you tonight.”
She grinned at him. “Tonight.”
Sean left the café a few minutes later and made a spur-of-the-moment decision that instead of going out for dinner, he wanted to cook for Annabelle. He stopped at CoCo’s Food Emporium, the locally-owned high-end grocery store, and made a beeline for the meat section. He asked the butcher for two of his best cuts of top sirloin. He also picked up some heirloom potatoes and was delighted to find some decent-looking asparagus.
He thought of Annabelle’s empty refrigerator. I should pick up some groceries for her, he thought. Easy, nutritious ingredients that wouldn’t take too much of her time to prepare. Or that he could cook for her.
He was picking up a dozen eggs when a squeal interrupted his thoughts.
“Sean! How are you?”
He closed his eyes in dismay before turning. Melissa threw her arms around him, nearly squishing the carton of eggs between them.
Sean stepped back. “Careful! Hi, Melissa.”
Melissa was in full makeup and a low-cut top, her hair coiffed and sprayed, her nails sparkling with a glittery pink manicure. The only i
tems in her basket were diet protein bars and seltzer water. “Alone this morning, huh?” She winked. “That chick you were with last night looked like a bit of a dud anyway. You need someone more on your wavelength, Sean.”
I can’t believe I dated her for as long as I did. Sean disagreed in every way with Melissa’s words about Annabelle, but the truth was that Melissa’s opinion mattered so little to him, all he did was roll his eyes. He didn’t feel like engaging her.
“I’m just leaving,” he said.
“Hang on! I need your help with something.” She stood too close and placed a hand on his arm. She had him trapped between her cart and the refrigerators. “I have a kid in my class, says he wants to play hockey. Is there room on your little team?”
Sean didn’t know if there really was a boy in her class who wanted to play hockey or if she was just making it up. He would never turn away a willing kid, but going through Melissa wasn’t something he wanted to do. “Tryouts are twice a year, and you know there are always fliers posted at your school, Melissa.”
She tightened her talon-like grip on his arm. “I promised I’d ask you. I—”
“Sean.”
A man’s voice interrupted them.
Sean turned. For fuck’s sake, he thought. This is just great.
Derrick stood in the aisle, a weird grin on his face. “You do like to play the field, don’t you?”
Sean felt his jaw twitch in anger. “I’m not playing any field. This is just a friend.”
Derrick gave Melissa an obvious once-over. “She’s an awfully pretty friend.”
Preening at the compliment, Melissa stepped forward with her hand outstretched. “I’m Melissa! Sean’s girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend, eh?” The delight in Derrick’s eyes gave him an oily look. “Well, hi there, Melissa. It’s so nice to meet you.”
“Ex-girlfriend,” Sean said, more loudly than was necessary, drawing looks from other shoppers. “She’s a long-ago ex, and we just bumped into each other.”
Forget Me Not (Golden Falls Fire Book 4) Page 18