First Time in Forever

by Sarah Morgan

  Sallyanne herself greeted Ryan with a kiss and showed them to a secluded table in the corner of the restaurant with a view over the water.

  “Who did she have to disappoint to give you this table?” Emily slid into the chair with the view, noticing that they were partially hidden from their neighbors.

  Ryan smiled. “I fixed her boat last summer. She’s been grateful ever since. And on an island this small it’s impossible not to know your neighbors and your competition.”

  “It doesn’t bother you?”

  “Why would it? The quality of the food here is attracting foodies from everywhere. It’s good for all of us.”

  It certainly was good.

  They ate sautéed jumbo shrimp with roasted garlic and baby spinach, followed by fresh Maine lobster washed down with a Californian white that was cool and so delicious, Emily drank more than she’d intended to.

  They finished off by sharing a blueberry cheesecake. As she took the last mouthful, Emily moaned and closed her eyes. “This is so good. I’m going to tell Lisa to find a way to make this into an ice cream.”

  “It’s generous of you to help her.”

  “I’m doing it for selfish reasons. After everything that has happened lately, I need to feel competent at something.”

  He picked up his glass. “You’re competent at a lot of things.”

  “Not swimming or parenting.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with your parenting skills. Just your confidence. But you’re pushing yourself out of your comfort zone on a daily basis. And you’re loving it.”

  She put down her glass. “How do you know that?”

  “It shows on your face.” He glanced at the dress. “It shows in everything.”

  “It isn’t just about Lizzy. It’s about me. I never did these things. I never sat on a beach and tried to eat ice cream before it melted over my fingers, I never pushed my fingers into a heap of flour and made my own pizza base, I never made necklaces out of flowers. Lisa showed me how to make the perfect pirate map. You soak paper in tea, dry it out and then burn the edges.”

  He smiled. “So ballerina is definitely off her list.”

  “Seems that way.” She put her spoon down. “The thing about kids is that they make you pay attention to the small things. Things that as an adult you rush past on your way to something else.”

  “That’s exactly what drove me crazy as a teenager. I wanted to rush past it on my way to something else.”

  She nodded. “You were at an age when everything was changing radically. You were trying to work out who you were, and suddenly you were expected to be responsible for other people. That’s scary, but also rewarding. Lizzy’s reading is coming on so fast. Agnes has been reading to her, too. She gave us lots of Rachel’s old books.”

  He sat back in his chair, studying her across the table. “Still worried you can’t love her?”

  “She’s very easy to love.”

  “And that scares you.”

  “Yes, but lately I’m doing everything that scares me, so I guess this is just one more thing.”

  “You’re an impressive person, Emily Donovan. You took on a child you’d never even met and agreed to live a life you didn’t think you wanted. Most people in your position would have put her in foster care.”

  “I don’t think so.” She took a deep breath. “I think most people would have done what I did. Spending time with Lizzy makes me wish I’d tried harder to have a relationship with Lana. I blame myself for that.”

  “How was that your fault?”

  “I keep wondering whether if the accident hadn’t happened, or if I hadn’t reacted so badly to it, maybe things would have been different. Maybe we would have been closer.”

  “Or maybe she was never going to be the sort of person who wanted that.”

  Emily thought about her half sister and the uncomfortable similarities to her mother. “She was so beautiful, and yet she seemed to need to have that confirmed all the time. Maybe that was my mother’s fault because looks were the only thing she valued.”

  Maybe it was because he was such a good listener, but suddenly she was telling him everything, about how she’d been teased in school about her body, how she’d tried to disguise her shape, how she’d mistrusted relationships.

  The conversation wasn’t all one-sided. He talked a little about how he’d felt stifled by looking after his younger siblings and about how guilty he’d felt leaving his grandmother to cope when he’d taken up a place at college.

  “She wanted that for you.”

  “Didn’t stop me feeling guilty.”

  “But by then the children were older. And the fact that you wanted to leave doesn’t change the fact that you loved them.”

  “Like the fact that wearing black doesn’t disguise the fact you’re the sexiest woman alive.”

  The shift in the atmosphere rocked her off balance, and she felt her pulse quicken. “How much of that wine have you drunk? Your brain is malfunctioning.”

  “My brain has been malfunctioning since you wore those pajamas.”

  She stared at him across the table. He was sensationally attractive, those eyes dark as flint in a face where every line and angle spoke of strength and masculinity. The air was alive with a tension she had only ever experienced around this man.

  The sexual energy was palpable, and by the time they returned to his apartment, she was feeling light-headed from a heady mixture of wine and anticipation.

  He found his keys, opened the door and flicked a switch that turned on a couple of lamps and sent a warm glow over the spacious room.

  “It’s late,” she murmured. “I should probably go home.” Because she was nervous, she walked to the window, and he threw his keys down on a small table near the door and followed her.

  “Is that what you want?” He stood behind her, and his hands closed over her arms.

  She closed her eyes. “It would be sensible.”

  “And do you always do what’s sensible?”

  “Always. I like order and predictability. I’m only interested in things I can control.” She kept her eyes forward, staring into the darkness of the bay. Lights from boats sent a warm glow flickering across the water. “With you, I feel out of control. As if I’ve lost my balance.”

  “Good.” He moved her hair aside gently, and she could feel the warmth of his breath on the back of her neck. “I’m pleased I unbalance you.”

  “I’m worried the reality will be a letdown.”

  “It won’t be.” He turned her to face him. His gaze was slumberous, and all she saw in his eyes was liquid desire that mirrored hers. “Are you nervous?”

  “Yes. I don’t feel any of the right things when I’m in bed with a man. It’s as if something inside me isn’t switched on.”

  His smile was slow and sure. “Maybe it’s a question of knowing where to find the switch. Why don’t you leave that part to me?”

  “I think there might be something wrong with me.”

  “Honey, there’s nothing wrong with you. I have surveillance footage that proves it.”

  She thought about that night in the pool and leaned her forehead against his chest. “I thought you said it would be wiped.”

  “After sixty days.” His fingers gently massaged her hair. “So for the next few weeks I have visual evidence that you’re not who you think you are. Or we could try a different way to prove the same thing.”

  Her heart was pounding so fast she felt sure he must be able to feel it. “Are you always so sure about everything?”

  “Not everything.” He lowered his head so that his mouth was a breath away from hers. “But this I’m sure about.” His hand slid to the nape of her neck, and he held her head while he kissed her slowly, taking his time as he explored her mouth, her jaw, the hollow of her neck until the urgency inside her was a primal, desperate beat.

  She wrapped her arms around him, felt him haul her close so that she was anchored against hardness and strength. And still he
kissed her, his mouth exploring hers with leisurely skill until all she could hear was the soft thrumming of her own pulse in her ears and his murmured words of encouragement. If he hadn’t been holding her, she would have sunk to the floor in a pool of molten desire. She was dizzy with it. Disoriented. All she knew was that of all the things that had happened over the past month, this felt the most right. Her hands were in his hair, her mouth responding to the erotic rhythm of his kiss.

  She slid her hands down his back and tugged at his shirt.

  She pressed against him, feeling the rigid thickness through the thin fabric of her dress.

  “Steady.” He whispered the words against her mouth. “We have all night.”

  She wanted to tell him that she wasn’t going to last five minutes, let alone all night, but at that moment his hand slid from her hip to her rib cage, and she felt his fingers brush the underside of her breast. It was such a relief that she moaned, but then he drew his hand away and smoothed her back instead, leaving her body vibrating with frustration.

  “Ryan—” She’d never felt this desperate for anything in her life before, but even her pleading didn’t persuade him to alter his pace.

  He continued to kiss her, long and deep, until she was trembling and shivering, until thick syrupy pleasure spread through her body. She was wondering what would happen when he finally touched her, when he slid the zipper on her dress and she felt his fingers slowly trace the length of her spine. His hands moved to her shoulders, and the dress slithered onto the wooden floor in a whisper of silk, leaving her standing in her underwear.

  He eased her away from him, and the look he gave her from under those thick, dark lashes sent a lick of fire burning across her skin.

  She trembled with arousal. “I wish—”

  “You wish?” His voice was husky and deep, and she lifted her hands to the front of his shirt and started undoing the buttons. Because she was shaking, she fumbled, but he didn’t help her, just stood and waited, holding himself still while she struggled to get him naked.

  In the end she gave up and ripped at the last few, sending buttons bouncing across the floor.

  She heard him laugh, and then he scooped her into his arms as if she weighed nothing and carried her across the room, through slivers of dark and moonlight, to his bedroom. She saw briefly that it had the same incredible view, the same canvas of sea and stars, and then he was lowering her onto the bed, the muscles of his shoulders bunched as he supported her weight.

  Clumsy, she fumbled with his belt, but her fingers were useless, and instead she gave up, frustrated, and covered him with the flat of her hand. He made a sound somewhere between a groan and a laugh and finished what she’d started. She stroked her hands over his powerful shoulders, lingered on the rough texture of his scar and slid lower. She felt the roughness of his thigh brush against the softness of hers, and then he shifted, giving himself full access to her body.

  She started to remove her underwear, but he stopped her, pressing her flat to the bed with a wicked smile.

  “That’s my job.”

  “But—”

  “Be patient.” He kissed her throat, and then his mouth moved lower to the full swell of her breasts, now pushing hard against the supportive fabric of her bra. His fingers brushed against the thrusting tip, and liquid heat pooled deep in her pelvis. For a moment she wondered whether his patience and control signified a lack of desire, but then she saw the dangerous glitter in his eyes and knew he was balanced on the edge, just as she was.

  And then he was kissing her again, and she felt him remove her bra, leaving her breasts full and exposed.

  “With a body like yours it’s a sin to wear clothes— ever.”

  Her hips shifted against the softness of his sheets, her body arched, and still he explored, tasted, teased until she was sobbing his name, her fingers digging hard into the powerful muscles of his shoulders.

  “Ryan—”

  “Not yet.” But his hand finally moved between her thighs, lingered there, stroked through the sheer fabric of her panties and then slid inside, parting delicate folds until she was gasping. When she didn’t think she could stand it any longer, he stripped off the last of her underwear, and his fingers explored her with slow, skillful strokes and then slid deep, touching her in a way that was new to her until sensation built with suffocating intensity. She felt the first flutters of her body, but instead of finishing what he’d started, he moved down her body, kissing her stomach and lower until he was settled between her thighs.

  Desperation gave way to acute shyness. This was something she’d never done with Neil, and she tried to wriggle away, but Ryan held her firmly, urging her to relax, to just breathe, to trust him, and then she felt the silky stroke of his tongue and the warmth of his breath against exposed, slippery flesh. He held her there, trapped and helpless, while he explored and exposed all of her body’s secrets, until she could no longer keep still. Finally, when she was sobbing and desperate, she felt him pause and reach for something from the nightstand and then he shifted over her, hard and heavy.

  “Look at me.” His soft command penetrated her clouded brain, and she opened her eyes, met the burning intensity of his and then moaned as she felt him enter her with a series of slow, deliberate thrusts. She felt her body yield to the invasion of his, felt her muscles ripple against the swollen thickness and moaned his name.

  “Am I hurting you?”

  She was drowning in pleasure. “No! I just— I need—”

  “I know what you need.” His voice thickened, he lowered his mouth to hers and rocked into her, deeper, harder, until each stroke, each driving relentless thrust propelled her closer to ecstasy.

  Inhibition fled. Her only fear was that he might stop, that he might once again delay the pleasure. But not this time. Instead, he shifted the angle so that the combination of masculine thrust and delicious friction finally opened the gate to that elusive peak.

  Pleasure rushed at her like a wave, slamming into her, the intensity of her climax catching her by surprise. She heard him groan her name, and then he was kissing her, stealing every sob, every cry with his mouth as the ripples of her body tipped him into his own shuddering release.

  Afterward she lay, eyes closed, shaken by the depth of her own feelings. He gathered her close, soothing her with gentle hands and soft words, and then she was dimly aware of him leaving the bed. In the distance she heard the sound of water coming from the bathroom, and then he returned to the bedroom, scooped her boneless, pliant body easily into his arms and carried her through to the steamy, scented heaven.

  “I never take baths, just showers.” She slid into the water with a groan. “I might drown. I need a life jacket.”

  “You’re not going to drown.”

  She heard the smile in his voice and opened her eyes. Confronted by the hard planes of his body, her gaze lingered on the dip and swell of muscle, the strength of those shoulders, the board-flat abdomen and the hair-roughened length of his thighs.

  Catching her looking at him, he raised one eyebrow questioningly, as unselfconscious as she was anxious and unsure.

  “You cannot possibly be shy after what we just did.” His voice was deep pitched, roughened by desire, and she discovered that far from being sated, it was as if her body had woken from a deep sleep.

  “Maybe. You could turn the lights off if you like.”

  “Honey, your body is so perfect anything less than a spotlight is a waste.” He slid into the water next to her, and she silenced the voice that questioned why he’d installed a tub big enough for two.

  Her hair hung damp and curling in the steam, the ends heavy and wet as they clung to her neck. He pushed it aside and brought his mouth down on hers.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  She straddled him, her skin sliding against his, the warmth of the water mingling with the heat of his skin. She pressed her mouth to the rough texture of his jaw, felt the rhythm of his breathing change as her hands moved down his body.<
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  By the time morning came they’d done everything except sleep.

  They lay, wrapped up in each other, watching dawn break over an ocean as smooth and still as glass.

  “I’ve never had a date like this one.” Her voice broke the sleepy silence, and she felt him stir and tighten his grip.

  “It’s good to try new things.” His voice was husky, and he shifted her under him and looked down at her through lowered lids. “Still think there’s something wrong with you?”

  “No.” She slid her arms around his neck. “You obviously have special powers.”

  He lowered his mouth to hers, smiling against her lips. “Sweetheart, I haven’t even started. Any time you want another display of my special powers, let me know.”

  She felt the weight of him on her, dominating and unbelievably arousing. “It’s dawn. I’m picking up Lizzy in three hours, and the thing about having children is that there isn’t a whole lot of opportunity for sleeping in the day.”

  “True. Sleepless nights suck. Unless the reason for it is sex.” He rolled on to his back, but he kept hold of her, locking her body against his. “I want to know more about you. Tell me something. Anything. Did you like school?”

  “Mostly, yes. I liked the learning and the routine. There was a consistency that wasn’t ever present at home. Once I walked through those gates, I knew what was going to happen. The people behaved in a predictable way. I was never going to walk in and find them drunk or naked with a guy I’d never met before.”

  “I’ve heard a lot of reasons for enjoying school but never that one.”

  “Was there a teacher that stood out for you? For me it was Mrs. White. We used to wonder if she’d had her hair dyed to match her name, but she was the best math teacher. I was good at numbers. There was a beauty to it, a logic, that wasn’t present in anything else in my life. I had a gift, I think, and she saw it. She took me under her wing. I don’t know if she guessed what was happening at home, or whether she was just one of those people who are really good at bringing out the best in every child. Either way, she helped me. I was always the last kid in the building.”