by Sara Daniel
He twisted his finger inside her, and she convulsed in uncontrollable ecstasy, her screams silenced by his kisses. His hand between her legs held her in a standing position, the pressure creating a pleasure so great she shattered against him again.
She hugged his head, pressing his hair against her cheek and his face into her neck. “Oh, Kyle,” she whispered. How could she explain no one had found her erogenous zones and brought her to the pinnacle of life with such perfection and tenderness? “I don’t have to tell you anything. You know what I like.”
His lips curved into a smile against her neck as he dropped a series of kisses along her collarbone, then slid his fingers from her body. She shivered in delight.
“Why am I left all alone out here?” Mother’s voice carried from the living room.
Twin shots of guilt and panic zipped through Gretchen. She stumbled to the bed and collapsed, her body still shuddering but no longer with pleasure alone. “Oh my God, what have I done?”
Kyle followed and squeezed her forearm. “This is your house. You’re an adult. You don’t have to answer to her.”
“Yes, but we hooked up in the middle of a dinner party while she was waiting for us.” Gretchen considered herself a mature, responsible person who would never consider engaging in the kind of daring, reckless behavior her mother was known for.
“You don’t have to share the details. I’ll tell her I was helping you put on a necklace…unless you’d rather admit I was adjusting your underwear.”
“Oh God.” She pressed her hands to her fiery cheeks. Despite her mortification, she’d take another real-life underwear adjustment in a heartbeat. “Go with the necklace.”
“Good choice.” Kyle stepped toward the door but turned back with his hand on the knob. “Gretchen, don’t wear black. Wear color, the more flamboyant, the better.”
“What’s my reward if I do?”
His gray-green gaze darkened with desire. “My tongue instead of my finger.”
Chapter Four
Kyle didn’t know how he managed the willpower to walk out of Gretchen’s bedroom, but somehow he did, murmuring appropriate responses to Zola’s chatter. A few minutes later Gretchen emerged, sending her mother into near hysterics by wearing a fluorescent yellow-and-orange flowing top with fuchsia leggings.
Oh yes. He wanted to taste her. “You rock the color charts.”
She touched the delicate silver chain around her neck and gave him a smile of pure female satisfaction.
He gaped, unable to think through the haze of his raging hard-on. Somehow, he had to last through dinner without burying himself inside her.
“If color interests you, the traditional catalogs always have display shirts in an array of colors for their models,” Zola said. “Gretchen, which company did you say called yesterday?”
“Hmm,” Gretchen murmured, her gaze still locked on his mouth as she brought the necklace to her lips. “No idea.”
He and Zola settled on opposite sides of the kitchen table for dinner, with Gretchen between them. Throughout the meal, Zola made several more attempts to bring up modeling, but Kyle ignored the bait, rubbing his hand along Gretchen’s thigh under the long tablecloth whenever she opened her mouth to follow up on one of the leading comments. All in all, despite the lack of meaningful conversation, the evening progressed to a far more enjoyable conclusion than the restaurant dinner they’d attempted over the weekend.
Much later, Gretchen walked him to the door.
“Come to my house Friday evening, and I’ll cook you dinner.” He pitched his voice low so the invitation didn’t carry across the room.
She smiled. The sensuousness need in her expression proved she’d interpreted his plan to include much more than dinner. “I’d love to.”
Those simple, heartfelt words made the three days until Friday three days too long. He wanted Gretchen more than he’d ever wanted anyone or anything. His days of hiding from the world had ended. With Gretchen at his side, he intended to rejoin life.
Not model again. But on Friday he intended to make love and discuss his options for the future. Her business sense and money smarts would help devise some palatable suggestions as soon as he convinced her to give him up as her mother’s ticket to rebuilding success.
***
Gretchen came no closer to finding the right modeling job to lure Kyle back into the business, but on Friday evening as she drove to his house she didn’t care. Unlike the last time she’d made this journey, she didn’t have a business motive.
She craved hot sex with a drop-dead gorgeous man who by all rights shouldn’t have given a woman like her the time of day. She wouldn’t question his interest, not when each passing moment in his company allowed her to see him as more than a pretty face. Of course, she still had no problem staring at his beautiful face and body forever, but she anticipated their conversations and his view on the world, too.
Wearing a multicolored print blouse she’d bought just for him, she checked her impulse to skip as she sashayed up the front walk. She pressed the bell, dancing her feet in place.
After staring at the closed door for a full minute, she rang again and then knocked in case the bell was broken. It seemed functional last time. Had Kyle forgotten their date? Maybe he’d changed his mind about wanting to see her. Her heart plunged.
She continued to stand there, having no trouble keeping her feet still as she pulled out her phone to call him. The phone rang but sent her to voice mail. She left a disheartened message and dropped the device back in her bag. Seeing no choice but to return to her car, she stepped back just as the lock clicked and the door swung open.
Kyle wore a haggard expression, his face pale. “I’m sorry. I forgot,” he said, his voice flat without a hint of remorse. “Tonight’s not a good time.”
“Are you sick?” She remembered the phone call from his doctor’s office.
“No, nothing to do with me.”
But he was obviously distraught. She stepped over the threshold, despite the lack of invitation. Closing the door behind her, she dropped her overnight bag to the floor and rested her palm on his cheek. “What’s wrong?”
For a moment, he didn’t say anything. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Remember the friend I told you about, the one who joined the military, the one I was supposed to sign up with?”
She nodded, an awful sense of foreboding uncurling in her stomach.
“His convoy was hit by a roadside bomb.” He blinked hard. “Brett was killed instantly.”
“Oh no.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him. “I’m so sorry.” Her own eyes filled with tears over this soldier she’d never known, no doubt a great man if he’d been a friend of Kyle’s, a brave warrior who’d given up his life for their country. Kyle had mentioned the guy was married with two young children. Those babies would never know their father. His wife would never hold her husband in her arms again.
She didn’t know how long they stood together in the foyer with their arms around each other. When he lifted his head from her shoulder, she led him into the living room and onto the couch. On the coffee table sat a single photograph of a man in fatigues, unsmiling but with a definite twinkle in his eye. She didn’t have to ask if she was looking at Brett.
Kyle sank onto the sofa, his gaze riveted on the picture.
She cuddled next to him. “Do you want to talk?”
“I don’t think I can. It happened a couple days ago, but I just found out.”
Gretchen couldn’t take away his grief, but she could share in it. She tugged him closer until his head rested on her chest. Threading her fingers through the silky, golden-brown strands, she slid her other hand up to flatten against his chest. Kyle intercepted her, entwining his fingers with hers and pressing her hand against his thigh.
“Tell me about the trouble you and Brett used to get into together.”
At first she didn’t think he would speak, but he began replaying the memories of two mischievous, overactive boys wh
o became daredevil, heartthrob teens. Shadows crept through the house. The sunset cast a golden glow on the walls, then faded, leaving them in darkness by the time he stopped talking.
He stirred, disentangling from her embrace. “I need to book a flight to Texas. The funeral’s taking place there.”
“I’ll come with you.” She couldn’t bear the thought of Kyle traveling alone while hurting so badly. After hours of listening to stories, she felt as if Brett had been a personal friend of hers as well.
For a moment, he looked like he might argue. Then he nodded and shuffled away.
She made her way through the house, fumbling for light switches to illuminate the unfamiliar path. Stumbling upon the kitchen, she turned on every switch along the wall. Half-chopped tomatoes and peppers lay on a wooden block on the counter. Peeled brown potatoes sat next to them. She opened the refrigerator and found two steaks marinating.
Kyle wasn’t in any frame of mind to consider the practical details of the upcoming travel arrangements, but the busy work of preparing the meal would keep him occupied. “Come in here and help me fix this delicious dinner.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Cook it anyway. Everything will go bad if you leave it like this, and you can freeze what you don’t eat.”
Despite his lack of enthusiasm, she continued to prod. By the time he’d finished preparations, she’d taken care of the plane, hotel, and rental car reservations. As they ate in silence, some color returned to his face.
He caught her eye. “Lousiest date you’ve ever had, huh?”
No, but he won the prize for the saddest. “I don’t want to be anywhere else.”
“A lousy date shouldn’t have the right to ask, but will you stay with me tonight? I don’t think I can bear to be alone.”
“I’m not leaving your side,” she promised. She’d give him whatever he needed, hoping she remembered his pleas and promises came from a grief in dire need of comfort, not personal feelings for her. Unfortunately, her own personal feelings were very much involved. She had no hope of separating where comfort stopped and true affection began.
***
To think he almost hadn’t opened the door to let her in. Kyle stepped toward Gretchen as she entered his bedroom. Her lavender silk lingerie skimmed her lush curves. She’d unfettered her breasts, and they swayed beneath the shimmering cloth. Finally, he had the chance to put his hands on her delectable figure and explore every inch.
Her body was real, something he could hold on to when he needed a lifeline. Best of all, her beauty didn’t stop with her skin and her curves. It ran through her veins and heart and shone through her eyes. Gretchen’s beauty would last forever in a way no supermodel could count on, regardless of a plastic surgeon’s skill.
She stopped in front of him and stroked her fingers down his hip, inches from the erection pulsing against the fabric of his shorts. “You don’t need to do anything. Just relax and don’t think.”
“No, I want to pleasure you. Forcing me to cook dinner was the best thing you could have done. Let me distract myself with your sweetness. Please. You won’t regret it.”
She held out her hands, smiling brighter than his house with every light on. “I know I won’t regret it. I’m all yours.”
She offered herself when he’d done nothing to deserve it, when his mind wasn’t in a place where he should be trusted with anything. Her acceptance undid him. He led her to his bed, seating her on the edge.
With her thumb, she caressed his neck starting at the underside of his jaw and skating over his Adam’s apple.
When she reached the crew neck of his t-shirt, he entwined his fingers with hers and kissed the pads of each thumb. Then he leaned her back until she lay across the bed, her legs dangling off the side.
She stared up at him, wary, as if she half-expected him to pump into her and expend himself. He closed his eyes, certain she would take him in and give him a cathartic release, at least until his guilt over using her caught up with him.
He wouldn’t use her. His intentions clear, he opened his eyes. Tonight he’d give her pleasure and feed off her pleasure for his own. The last thing he intended was a slam-bam-thank-you-ma’am where he’d still have an entire night stretching out to endure.
Kyle sank cross-legged to the floor and took her right foot in his palm, kneading it with his fingers and knuckles until a moan rose from the bed above him. He kissed the arch and released it to apply the same attention to her other foot.
Then he spanned her trim ankles and caressed her calves, lifting each leg in turn to kiss the backs of her knees. She gasped as his lips made contact. He smiled against her smooth, warm flesh, loving her responsiveness to every gesture. He rubbed along the backs of her thighs to tug on the silky pajama bottoms. She lifted her hips, and he skimmed the curve of her buttocks with his fingertips.
He dropped the fabric to the floor, baring her lower half. Desire made him tremble as he rose over her flushed, half-nude form.
Gretchen reached for him. He took her fingers before she made contact with his chest, delivering the same attention to her hands and arms he’d showered on her lower limbs. Only then did he ease the lingerie top over her head and toss it aside, leaving her naked, quivering, and vulnerable beneath him. So beautiful. He didn’t deserve the gift she represented, but he didn’t have the will to give her up.
She attempted to sit. “Do you want me to turn off the lights or get under the covers?”
“No. I want to look at you.” He lifted his gaze from her full curves to her face.
“Expect to take a while, considering.” She bit her lip, blinking at a point beyond his left shoulder.
Hell, her shaking and vulnerability stemmed from more than desire and first-time-naked-with-a-new-man jitters. How dare her mother, the shallow men and women in his industry, and society in general make her insecure about her looks. “You will not cover up on my account. And I will take a while because I can’t stop staring at you. My God, Gretchen, you’re beautiful.”
“A debatable opinion.” She propped herself on her elbows. “You have plenty of me to love at any rate.”
She’d tried to joke, but the pain in her eyes showed she didn’t find any humor in the subject. Neither did he. “I intend to touch all of you. I’m going to love all of you. I don’t care how many inches that translates into or how you compare to other women. I want you exactly as you are.”
He settled his mouth on hers before she could argue. Words alone wouldn’t change her mind. He had to show he spoke the truth. He approached his mission with single-minded determination, gliding from her lips down her neck and across her shoulders.
He took her left breast, drawing her into his mouth, sucking until she cried out. Then he repeated the process with the right. She responded to his every touch, every whisper of breath across her skin. Making each moment more pleasurable than the last soon became his sole ambition.
He massaged her stomach and hips, refusing to allow her to shrink from his affections. “I promised you this,” he whispered. Then he bent his head to the juncture of her thighs and dipped his tongue inside her.
“Oh, Kyle,” she whispered.
He felt the shiver race through her body and continue straight through him as if they were one. He swirled the outer layers of her sex and thrust inside her. She tasted like sweetness and generosity, beauty and passion. He registered and examined every tremor as he brought her to the brink of orgasm. He flirted with the ledge of pleasure, her gasps and moans his entire world until he finally sent her spinning over the edge.
On the verge of explosion, he shucked his shorts, rolled on a condom, and drove inside her. She welcomed him home by wrapping her legs around his waist. Threading her fingers through his hair, she rode the wave with him, crying his name as she crested. Her muscles contracted, and he came in a thunderous burst of pure bliss.
He lay against her, content and whole in a way he’d never felt before. The feeling didn’t stop even when his
memory of the day’s events returned. He had a lot of sorrow, regret, and guilt to work through. Yet, he was certain Gretchen had healed him. Even more, she’d saved him.
Kyle slid free and moved away long enough to dispose of the condom and turn out the light. Returning to bed, he spooned against her back as he covered them with the blanket.
“We forgot to take off your shirt,” she murmured, half-asleep.
“Not necessary,” he whispered. He raised his head to kiss her temple, settling his palms over her breasts.
She sighed with pleasure, snuggling against him. Her ass pressed against his cock, and his desire sprang to life as if she hadn’t just satisfied him. Sleep would continue to elude him but not for the reasons he’d thought earlier in the evening. He couldn’t get enough of Gretchen’s amazing, generous, responsive body.
If they were going to continue sleeping together, he’d have to tell her about himself. Getting naked would make the secret impossible to keep, but he hated she might look at him as any less of a man or as someone to be pitied. Plus, once she saw for certain he no longer fit top-model criteria, her entire reason for getting close would disappear.
***
“You’re going where?” Mother demanded.
Gretchen explained again about Kyle’s friend’s death as she tossed clothes into her suitcase, wishing she’d had time to linger at his house. She imagined cuddling, sharing a shower, or chatting over a lazy cup of coffee, not dashing out at first light to face an inquisition from her mother.
“I understand why he’s going across the country for the funeral. I don’t understand why you’re going with him. How does this convince him to resume his modeling career?”
“It probably won’t,” Gretchen admitted. “But he needs me.”
“Oh, no. You didn’t.” Mother grasped her cheeks between her thumb and fingers, squeezing hard. Her sharp green eyes narrowed on Gretchen’s face. “You did.” She released her and spun away.
Gretchen rubbed her sore cheeks. “Do not lecture me. You have no room to judge me for who I sleep with.”