Unexpectedly Expecting!

by Susan Mallery

  “You’re not going to relax until this is over,” he said, leaning against the back of the sofa and drawing her between his thighs. “Your muscles are tight and I can tell you’re trembling.” He rested his hands on her waist. “Have you changed your mind?”

  They were standing really close. Their legs were touching, and if she leaned toward him, even just a little, they were going to be touching from belly to shoulder. Is that what she wanted?

  Without thinking about what she was doing, she pressed her palms flat against his broad chest. He felt warm, muscled and very masculine. Nice, actually. The passion that had stirred in her shop when he’d kissed her returned to life. Need began to flare inside of her.

  She slid her hands up to his shoulders and allowed herself to drift forward until her nipples teased his shirt. Delicious sensations shot through her. She wanted to have him touch her breast again, the way he had at the shop. But this time she wanted them both naked. She wanted to feel his skin against hers, his body, hard and ready, plunging into her.

  The edges of the room seemed to swim out of focus. She felt herself sway slightly as heat flared between her legs. Her bones began melting. So why didn’t the man kiss her? What exactly was he waiting for?

  “Nora?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Did you plan on answering my question?”

  “Huh?” There’d been a question? “What did you want to know?”

  “Have you changed your mind?”

  She blinked slowly, staring deeply into Stephen’s hazel eyes. He had lovely eyes. Reflections of the soul, isn’t that what they said?

  “About you kissing me?” She was confused. “No, I want you to. Sooner would be better.”

  “No.” His voice sounded patient, although a little strained. “Do you still want to make love?”

  “Of course. What do you think we’ve been talking about?”

  “Hell if I know,” he grumbled, then claimed her mouth with his.

  He’d kissed her before—outside in her driveway and at her shop. Both times she’d found herself weak with desire. But this kiss was different. Maybe because they were alone and in private. Maybe it was because they were starting to know each other. Maybe it was just hormones coming out to play for the first time in years. Regardless, Nora found herself being swept away by a passion that left her breathless.

  She tilted her head and opened to let him kiss her deeply. As his tongue entered her mouth, she stroked him, rubbing and circling, wanting him to learn all of her. They played tag and chase until she followed him back and learned all of his secrets. His sweet taste made her want to know the flavors of all of him. His neck, his shoulders, his belly—that most private part of him. Later, she thought hazily, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him even closer. Time for all that later.

  As they kissed he moved his hands up and down her back. On one of the trips he moved lower, down past her rear, then slipped under her dress as he moved back up. He cupped her rear and squeezed, drawing her against him, letting her feel the hardness of his arousal. The realization that he wanted her as much as she wanted him nearly made her cry out in pleasure. Need filled her, increasing in time with her rapidly beating heart.

  He slipped his fingers under the elastic of her pants and caressed the bare skin of her behind. The light touch tickled as much as it aroused, making her squirm. Then his hands were on her waist and moving higher. Up her rib cage to her breasts. He didn’t even pause. Instead he brought both hands up under her curves, then closed around them and squeezed gently.

  The sensation was exquisite. She’d forgotten how good it could all feel. The heat of a man, him touching her body. But this wasn’t just about being without, she thought as his thumbs and forefingers teased her nipples. This was about being specifically with Stephen—the man who had forced his way past her emotional walls and reminded her that she was a vital, sensual woman.

  He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. “You’ve got me way too close,” he breathed. “And neither of us is naked.” He kissed her cheeks, her nose, her chin, then nibbled along her throat. All the while his fingers continued to caress her breasts.

  “You feel so good,” he continued, licking her collarbone, then slipping down to dip into the valley between her breasts. “I want to touch all of you. I want to see you and be inside of you.” He raised his head and smiled. “Maybe we should continue this in your bedroom.”

  “I’d like that,” she whispered.

  Passion darkened his eyes. He cupped her face and kissed her softly, then took her hand and led the way down the hall.

  Once they were in her bedroom, he turned toward her and began unfastening her dress. She was surprised to realize that his fingers shook and he could barely manage the small buttons. She’d been so busy worrying about her own case of nerves that she hadn’t considered he might be feeling the same.

  When he stalled on the third button, she pushed his hands away. “I can finish this. Why don’t you take off your shirt?”

  They worked in tandem until she finished and shrugged off the dress. It fell to the floor, leaving her in her peach bra and matching bikini panties. Stephen froze in the act of unfastening his shirt. She saw the hard ridge pressing against the fly of his slacks flex, as if more heated blood had surged into place.

  Nora had never thought much about her body. She’d been blessed with a good gene pool and a tendency to stay slim easily. She dressed the way she liked and didn’t care about other people’s opinion. But when Stephen stared at her like a hungry man seeing food for the first time in weeks, she felt a ripple of pleasure tingling through her. When he swore and reached for her, she was thrilled that he was pleased.

  “You’re incredible,” he murmured, before claiming her mouth.

  She wrapped her arms around him and drew him against her. His hands were everywhere. Along her bare back, at her hips, her rear, sliding up and down her sides. He traced the back of her bra, then followed the material around to unfasten the front hook. She slipped off the scrap of fabric.

  He stopped kissing her long enough to stare at her full curves. Then he groaned as he took them in his hands. “Perfect,” he told her as he bent down to lick her taut nipples.

  The feel of his tongue on her aroused skin was nearly enough to send her to her knees. She had to cling to him to keep herself from falling. When he drew her nipple into his mouth and sucked, she gasped and clutched his head. Fiery need shot through her. Desperate passion flamed in her belly and lower. With each tug of his mouth she felt an answering response between her legs.

  “Don’t stop,” she breathed.

  Without releasing her, he urged her backward until she felt the bed against her legs. Stephen straightened and jerked out of his shirt. Then he picked her up in his arms and tumbled her onto the bed.

  She came down on the soft mattress, just as he settled next to her. Then his mouth was on her breasts again and she knew she was going to die from the wonder of it all.

  He licked her, circled, gently nibbled, all the while matching his actions with his hand on her other breast. He returned his mouth to hers and trailed a hand down her belly to the elastic of her panties.

  She knew what he was going to do and tried to brace herself for the impact. But it wasn’t enough. Even as he slipped under the scrap of silk, she felt herself tensing.

  “How do you like it?” he asked, barely whispering in her ear. “Soft? Slow? Fast?” He moved as he spoke, demonstrating the possibilities.

  She couldn’t pick one of them, she thought frantically. They all felt incredible. “It doesn’t matter,” she breathed.

  He paused long enough to pull off her panties. Then he returned his fingers to her waiting heat and brushed against her most sensitive spot. Back and forth, up and down, circling, brushing, arousing until she couldn’t do anything but focus on that single place of perfection.

  “So ready,” he whispered as he licked the inside of her ear. “You’re so amazingl
y sexy. I want you. I swear if you touched me, I would explode in about a second. I can’t wait to be inside of you. I want to fill you and feel you lose control.”

  His words painted an erotic picture she couldn’t resist. Her knees fell open and her hips arched into his touch. She was getting closer, she could feel it.

  And then she couldn’t stop herself. Her need for release grew until she was so tightly strung that she thought she might snap. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t talk, couldn’t do anything but hang suspended in one incredible moment of anticipation.

  “You’re close,” he whispered. “I can feel it.”

  He shifted slightly, pressing his thumb against her secret place and dipping a finger into her waiting passage. It was too much. Pleasure poured through her in waves of light and heat. Her muscles tensed and pulsed over and over again until she was trembling and gasping and very near to tears. He touched her lightly until the end, then he wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

  “You’re incredible,” he said.

  She managed a weak smile. “Imagine how it will be when we’re both involved.”

  “I already have.”

  He kissed her lightly before standing up and quickly removing his shoes, socks, jeans and briefs. Before joining her back on the bed, he reached for his jeans and removed a condom from the front pocket.

  Nora had been busy admiring the lean strength of his legs and the way the hair on his belly arrowed down toward his jutting arousal. Now her gaze settled on the protection he held. Her brain froze.

  “I’d forgotten,” she admitted, more to herself than him. “I’m not on any birth control and I never gave it a moment’s thought. It’s been a long time and—”

  Stephen slid back onto the mattress and brushed his mouth against hers. “I wasn’t sure. It seemed easier to be safe.”

  She settled back on her pillow and ran her fingers up and down his chest. “I should have known those years of medical training would pay off sometime.”

  “My thoughts exactly. Now, where were we?”

  Before she could answer, he’d slid on the protection, then moved over her, kissing first her mouth, then her breasts. She felt herself quickly readying again. She was hot and eager to feel him inside of her.

  He knelt between her thighs. She felt the first stretching pressure as he gently pushed into her. Her legs parted more and she put her hands on the small of his back to draw him inside. Slowly, deeply, wonderfully, he filled her until she couldn’t imagine anything more amazing than sharing this physical intimacy with him.

  He groaned as he thrust in again. His passion-filled gaze met hers. “I can’t hold back very long. I want to, it’s just…”

  She smiled. “That’s hardly an insult. Besides, I’m not going to take very long myself.”

  Already she could feel her body tensing in readiness. With each thrust he drew her closer and closer to the place of release.

  Slipping his arms around her, he bent down and kissed her. Tongues mirrored the act of love they performed. She wrapped her arms around him, drawing him in more deeply, taking all of him, surging against each thrust in a rhythm that forced her over the edge.

  She cried out her release. Seconds later he stiffened and gasped her name. They held each other tightly as they rode out the storm.

  Stephen leaned back in the kitchen chair, contentment filling him. Making love with Nora had been better than he’d imagined. She’d not only been beautiful and sexy, she’d been the most responsive female he’d ever encountered. The way she’d climaxed…both times. He’d thought it would be good—he hadn’t dared to hope it would be amazing.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked as she glanced up from the counter where she worked.

  He’d found the energy to pull on jeans, but nothing else. She was dressed in a white terry-cloth robe that should have looked sensible, but was instead about the sexiest thing he’d ever seen a woman wear. Just watching the thick collar part slightly and show a hint of bare breast was enough to get him hard again. Of course, he figured Nora would make him hard doing just about anything.

  “I think you’re amazing,” he said, coming to his feet and moving behind her.

  She was making them sandwiches. He hugged her, tucking both his hands into the robe and gently squeezing her breasts. Her nipples puckered instantly.

  “I can’t work while you’re doing that,” she said calmly. “Do you want food or sex?”

  “Do I have to pick just one? Can’t we do both?”

  “Yes, but not together. Earlier you said you weren’t interested in food, but a few minutes ago you said you were starving. Which is it?”

  He buried his face in her sweet-smelling hair and sighed. “Can we eat now and make love later?”

  Her slight shiver in response to his words made him smile.

  “Sure,” she told him.

  Reluctantly he returned to the table. She continued to fix the sandwiches, then dug some potato salad out of the refrigerator and put a scoop on each of their plates.

  Stephen walked into the living room and retrieved the wine and the flowers. He felt good—better than he had in a long time. Even though he’d wanted to make love with Nora, he’d wondered if he would have any problems being intimate with another woman. A part of him had been concerned that thoughts of Courtney would interfere.

  But he hadn’t thought of her at all. Instead he’d found himself intoxicated by the wonder that was Nora. He was pleased to know that he could experience physical lovemaking without feeling guilty.

  He opened the wine and poured them each a glass. Nora set the food on the table, then arranged the roses in a vase. She took the seat across from him and picked up her sandwich.

  Her skin was still flushed, her mouth swollen. Her curly, dark hair tumbled over her shoulders. She looked like a woman who had just spent the afternoon in bed. He found himself wanting her again, needing to be with her. He wanted to learn her secrets, hear about her past, explore what they had in common and what was different.

  A warning sounded in his head. Friends, he reminded himself. Lovers. All that was fine, but not in love. Never in love.

  “So,” Nora said after swallowing her first bite of food. “Why isn’t a halfway decent guy like you married?”

  Her question made him laugh. “Trust you to get right to the point. No subtleties, no gently leading to the question. Just down and dirty. Why aren’t you married?”

  “Are you avoiding the question?”

  “Not at all. I’m just wondering why you think I would be.”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, please. You’re fishing for compliments, which seems so beneath you. We’ve established that you’re practically good-looking, almost intelligent and you have a somewhat successful career.”

  He sipped his wine. “I’m overwhelmed by your flattery.”

  Humor brightened her eyes. “You should be. So there must be at least a half dozen or so women who would think of you as a catch of some kind.”

  “But not you?”

  She arched her eyebrows. “Do you really want to go there?”

  “Not really.” He leaned toward her. “Okay. I’ll confess. I was married once.”

  She set down her sandwich and slapped her hands on the table. “I knew it. You see—this just proves my theory. It’s the reason you’re divorced. You see, my theory is that every man has a hideous flaw. Some drink, some gamble, some are mean, some complete slobs. Whatever. The trick to a successful marriage is for the woman to find out the man’s hideous flaw before they get hitched and figure out if she can live with it.”

  How Nora-like, he thought wryly. “Do you have a theory for everything?”

  “Just about.”

  “There’s just one problem.”

  She held up her hand. “I know what you’re going to say. You want to know if women also have hideous flaws. Some do, I’ll admit, but the majority manage to stay hideously flaw-free. I am one of those fortunate women.”<
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  “Of course,” he murmured. “Why would I think otherwise?”

  She propped her chin on her hand and smiled. “So, lover of mine. Tell me about your hideous flaw. What broke up the marriage?”

  “Nothing.” He shrugged. “That’s what I was trying to tell you. I’m not divorced. I’m a widower.”

  Chapter Eight

  N ora was having an out-of-body experience. Instead of participating in the conversation with Stephen, she was floating in a corner of the kitchen. She could see herself, sitting at the table, looking shocked but interested. He was talking and talking, but she couldn’t hear a word.

  A widower? Stephen?

  She blinked and found herself planted firmly on her chair, struggling to act normal when she wasn’t able to breathe or think or understand anything. He’d been in love with his wife and then she’d died, leaving him alone and mourning?

  She wasn’t sure why the thought was so shocking. People lost spouses. Although it was usually the husband who died first, sometimes it was the wife.

  “But she must have been so young,” she said, interrupting him in midsentence.

  “She was,” he agreed. “Thirty-four. Courtney was a year older than me.”

  Courtney. Nora repeated the name over silently. “She sounds pretty and petite.”

  A soft smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “She was. Damn smart, too. Always at the top of her class. She was a brilliant surgeon with almost magical hands. She was intuitively connected with her patients. At least that’s what her teachers always said.”

  Courtney sounded like a paragon, Nora thought grimly. A tiny, perfect doll of a woman who could save the world. And a doctor. Of course. “Did you meet in medical school?”

  “Yes.” He took a bite of his sandwich and chewed. “She was a couple of years ahead of me. That was partly because of the year age difference, but she’d also graduated from college when she was sixteen. She’d skipped a grade early on. Her specialty required years and years of training, and she used to say she wanted to be out and practicing before she turned forty.”