Delicious

by Lori Foster, Lucy Monroe, Sarah Little

  “What would make you say that?”

  “The fact you have me on my stomach and I can’t do anything but what you want.”

  “Don’t you like it?” He thrust deep and pulled out slowly only to thrust deeply again.

  When she got enough breath to talk again, she answered. “I like it just fine, but I don’t like you thinking you can always be in control.”

  “Would I think that?” he asked, reaching around and under her with one hand, his voice all rumbling innocence and his fingers a temptation to sin. The questing hand slid along her belly and down to her pubic hair; then fingers pressed between her labia and touched her clitoris.

  “You might think it, but you’d be wrong.” And she tried something else she’d read about.

  He cursed, a word she never, ever said, but described spectacularly what they were doing.

  She squeezed and released her inner muscles in a rhythm that matched his thrusts. Pretty soon the rhythm increased until all she could do was squeeze and hold the contraction for as long as possible, then release and start squeezing again.

  Six

  He panted in her ear, his fingers playing her sweet spot as though they knew her every secret. He did. More than any other person on the earth. Minutes later, she and Blake came together with lots of noise and passionately rocking bodies. Afterward, he collapsed on top of her, his weight warm and solid against her back.

  He kissed her temple, her cheek, and her lips when she twisted her head at an uncomfortable angle so he could do so. Then he rolled off of her, but she couldn’t move. She didn’t even have enough energy to turn over. She felt him get off the bed, but she couldn’t work up enough energy to wonder if he’d gone to take care of the condom again as her eyes slid shut.

  She didn’t go to sleep, but lay there in a state of semidoze until he came back. Without a word, he lifted her to cradle against his chest like something precious and carried her into the bathroom.

  He stepped into the claw-foot tub with her still cradled in his arms and sank down until they were both submerged in the hot water. “There are times I positively love the quaintness of this inn.”

  She smiled and drowsily nuzzled his neck with the back of her head. “Me, too.”

  “Your words are slurry.”

  “Mmmm.”

  “You’re so tired, you’re barely awake.”

  “Mmmm.”

  “Go to sleep if you want. I’ll take care of you.”

  But she didn’t. No matter how tired she was, she wouldn’t have missed the following half hour to save her life.

  He washed her whole body. Using the glycerin soap the inn provided for its guests, he gently massaged muscles she hadn’t known she had, or hadn’t remembered. He also gently touched her between her legs, carefully cleansing her swollen vulva and opening. His touch was light, as if he was being careful not to arouse her again. It was pure tender care, and she adored every soothing caress.

  When he was done, he lifted her out and dried them both off before carrying her back into the bedroom.

  She looked at her rumpled clothes on the floor and shuddered. “I have to get dressed and get back to my apartment.”

  He put her down on the bed and then opened a drawer and pulled out a black T-shirt. “Put this on. It will cover everything, and it’s clean.”

  “But—”

  “It’s late. Your apartment and this room are the only things on this floor. It’s highly unlikely we’ll run into anyone in the hall.”

  We? She hoped he meant that literally. She wasn’t sure he remembered her invitation to join her for the rest of the night in her bed. She also hoped he was right about no one being in the hall, because the black T-shirt looked way more comfortable than her rumpled clothing.

  He helped her pull the T-shirt over her head and tuck her arms through the big sleeves. She should feel like a child being dressed by a parent, but instead she felt cherished.

  When the T-shirt hung on her like an oversized mini-dress, he went back to the dresser and got out a pair of shorts and another T-shirt. He pulled them on and then led her out of the room, one arm around her waist as if he knew that walking on her own would be way too much for her rubbery legs.

  If someone saw them, the fact she was wearing his T-shirt wouldn’t be the first thing that gave away their status as lovers. She couldn’t make herself care. She wouldn’t be working here much longer anyway, but even if she would . . . the prospect of having her employees know she’d slept with the big boss wouldn’t have deterred her from taking him to her bed.

  She loved him.

  And he gave her more pleasure than she had ever believed she would feel.

  When they entered her apartment, they went straight back to the bedroom, and he didn’t even complain when he had to curl around her body to fit on the double bed.

  Blake woke the next morning to Ivy’s small hands exploring his body. He rumbled a good morning, she kissed him in response, and they made love, this time without any games or attempts at one-upmanship.

  Then they showered together, and she experimented on him with soap, emulating something else she’d read in a book.

  This time, he was the shaky one drying off. “I need to check my e-mail and get some work done before we drive into Cleveland.”

  She bit her lip as if worried about something, but nodded. “All right. We can have muesli and yogurt for breakfast, then. It will only take a minute to put together.”

  She made coffee to go with it, and he took his mug with him to his room.

  He powered on the computer and left it to boot up while he shaved. He looked at the blond stubble on his face in the mirror and frowned, remembering the red spots on Ivy’s delicate breasts and cheeks this morning. She hadn’t seemed to mind the rough texture of his morning beard against her sensitive skin.

  In fact, she’d gone a little crazy when he rubbed it over her nipples, but he still should have at least thought of shaving.

  “Selfish bastard,” he said to the man in the mirror.

  And then remembering Ivy’s screams of pleasure, he smiled. Maybe not totally selfish.

  He came back into his room and went to check his e-mail and froze. The screen had a blinking white cursor and nothing else. He tried rebooting, but the same thing happened. It never made it past the bios commands. Damn it. It was a brand-new, state of the art laptop, and the hard drive had crashed. The manufacturer was going to hear from him.

  Ivy came out of the bedroom after blow-drying her hair to find Blake at her kitchen table drinking more coffee. He was scowling.

  “I thought you were going to check your e-mail.” She knew how slow the land line connections were. He could only be done if he’d gotten very few messages—unlikely—or hadn’t been able to access them, which was all too likely considering how much time she’d spent in his room last night.

  She bit the lip she’d been worrying all morning since Blake had mentioned his computer earlier. Last night had been the full moon, a blue moon, and from the looks of things, her gift-slash-curse it-depends-on-how-you-look-at-it thing had run true to form. She’d wiped his hard drive clean.

  “Stop biting your lip, sweetheart. It’s swollen.”

  “Why didn’t you check your e-mail?” she asked, feeling so cold even his endearment and indulgent smile didn’t warm her.

  “My hard drive crashed.” His teeth snapped together in annoyance, all indulgence gone. “It’s a brand-new computer.”

  “Blake . . .” She didn’t want to say what had to be said. This was why Danny had left, and as long as Blake had believed she was superstitious rather than dangerous to hard drives and Swiss watches, he had wanted to be with her.

  “Yeah, honey?”

  She loved the way he called her sweetheart and honey. He’d even called her baby once, and she’d liked it, too. It meant she was unique to him, special. He didn’t go around using endearments with anyone else.

  “I was in your room last night.”

&
nbsp; His blue eyes warmed, the irritation melted away by male appreciation. “I know.”

  “It was a full moon.”

  “So?”

  “Blake!” He wasn’t stupid; he had to get the picture.

  “Are you trying to tell me you erased my hard drive?”

  “Not on purpose, but yes.”

  He shook his head. “Hard drives crash.”

  “And watches break, even Rolexes. I know, but please think about this. What are the chances your computer, your watch, your cell phone, and your Palm Pilot would all break within the same twenty-four-hour period?”

  “It could happen.”

  “You are a whiz with numbers . . . tell me the chances.”

  He looked disgruntled. “Not very damn good.”

  “And yet it happened.”

  “Yes.”

  “Because of me.”

  “N—”

  “Yes,” she hissed, tired of trying to convince the stubborn man of something she hated having him come to believe.

  His eyes narrowed. “I know you believe—”

  “Do you think I like living like this? No computer, no microwave, no cordless phone even?”

  “I didn’t say—”

  “Stop being so stubborn.” She gritted her teeth and counted backward from ten. “Granny Smith’s Apothecary and Soda Fountain is right next door. They carry cheap watches that aren’t anti-magnetic. Go buy one. Make sure it works and bring it back.”

  “Ivy, this is ridiculous.”

  “Just do it.”

  He could have argued they didn’t have time, or that he had better things to do, but he didn’t. He sighed and got to his feet, his expression disgruntled. “If it’s that important to you, I’ll do it.”

  She spent the next fifteen minutes trying not to dwell on what was going to happen once she convinced him of the moon magnetism.

  When he returned, he walked into her apartment without knocking. He was carrying a small paper bag. “It’s in here.”

  “Did you check to make sure it works?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Take it out.”

  She was always more magnetic the days leading up to the full moon and during it than after. She didn’t understand it, but she knew her body’s cycle. To a point anyway. The level of her magnetism varied in intensity before and after the full moon, but she was guessing that since it had been a blue moon last night, she’d still be magnetic enough to prove her point.

  He fished the watch from the bag.

  “Look at it.”

  “What am I supposed to see?” He didn’t sound irritated, or dismissive, just curious.

  “The second hand moving. Is it?”

  “Yes.”

  She put her hand out.

  He gave her the watch.

  She closed her fingers over it.

  “I don’t know what you’re trying to prove.”

  “Oh, you know, you just don’t want to deal with it.”

  He let out a frustrated breath, running his hand through his perfectly groomed blond hair and leaving it mussed.

  The cold metal of the watch back warmed in her hand. She held on to it longer than she thought she needed to because when she let go, when she let him see, it would be over. Finally, she forced herself to open her fingers and let him see.

  He looked down and scowled. “It stopped.”

  “Are you going to try to explain this away, too?”

  He looked at her, and the expression in his eyes made her stomach knot. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

  “I tried to tell you it was.”

  He nodded, but said nothing.

  What was he thinking? That she was a freak? A weirdo? Definitely not a woman he could have in his world.

  “What did your high school sweetheart want to be that he couldn’t take you with him?”

  “He works for NASA.”

  “You still talk?”

  “Yes, he’s the only person besides family who knows.”

  “I know now.”

  “True.”

  “You really can’t manage a hotel with computerized check-in procedures and maintenance systems.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?” She opened her mouth to answer, exasperated by his willful ignorance, but he raised his hand to shush her. “I mean, why can’t you just stay away during a full moon?”

  “For one thing, I’m not always sure when the problems will start. Sometimes it’s not until the day of the full moon; sometimes it happens several days before.”

  “But you know when the full moon comes every month.”

  “And you would be okay with your manager taking off for several days every month to cover my bases?” She shook her head, knowing the answer. “Even if that would work, where would I go? I can’t exactly stay in a hotel.”

  “Where will you go when you leave here?”

  The question sliced into her heart, slashing her deeply buried hopes. “I don’t know.”

  The phone rang, and Ivy sprang to answer it. She’d convinced Blake about her moon magnetism, but now that meant he would leave, and she welcomed any interruption that would stave off the final break.

  “Ivy?”

  “Yes, Trudy?”

  “The maintenance guy who is redoing the woodwork is here. He wants to talk to you.”

  “I’ll be right down.”

  She hung up the phone and turned back to Blake. She couldn’t read anything in his expression. “There’s someone at the front desk I need to see.”

  “Ed?” he asked in a harsh voice, masculine hostility radiating from every pore.

  “No. I told you, I’m not going to marry Ed, even if it would get rid of my gift-slash-curse it-depends-on-how-you-look-at-it thing.”

  “You stop being magnetic after you get married?”

  She shook her head. “That’s what the women in my family believed for generations, but I did some research. Pregnancy is what actually changes the chemical balance and ends the moon changes in our bodies.” “So, if you had a baby, you wouldn’t have to worry about this anymore?”

  “Right, but I’m not going to run out and get artificially inseminated just to change my body’s chemistry. Children deserve a better start than that in life.” She turned to go, trying really hard not to cry and afraid the wetness on her cheeks meant she wasn’t succeeding very well.

  “I could make you pregnant.”

  She stopped with her hand on the door. “What?”

  He could not have said what she thought she’d heard him say.

  She spun back around to face him, swiping at her cheeks. “What?” she asked again.

  He came to her and laid his hand against her neck, his thumb brushing her pulse point. “I said I could give you a baby.”

  She couldn’t help it; her eyes flicked down to the front of his pants, and he laughed.

  “Not right this second, honey, but it wouldn’t take much.”

  Despite the intimacy of the night before and that morning, she felt a hot blush stain her cheeks. “That’s not funny, Blake.”

  “I’m not laughing.”

  “But you can’t mean it.”

  “Why can’t I?”

  “You can’t just give me a baby to change my body chemistry. You’d be a father. That’s a lifetime commitment.” And she had absolutely no doubt he would see it that way too. She’d known this man for three years. He took family seriously.

  “So?” he asked, just as if the prospect of a lifetime tied to her through a child didn’t upset him in the least.

  The phone rang again. Ivy didn’t have to pick it up to know it was Trudy reminding her to come downstairs. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Ivy—”

  “I . . . we . . . let’s talk about this later, okay?”

  “Okay.” He removed his hand from her, and she felt as if all the heat in her body had taken a vacation.

  Cold loneliness rushed across her heart, and she shivered.

  Get
a grip on yourself, girl. He wasn’t here two days ago, and he won’t be two days from now. You survived then. You will survive later.

  “Think about it,” he said as she stepped out the door.

  She rushed down the hall toward the stairs. If she appeared to be running, she could be forgiven. She was running, but leaving Blake physically behind didn’t get him out of her brain.

  He’d offered to give her a baby. He had to be losing his mind. Why else would he make such a preposterous suggestion? Did he pity her? Would a man make such a far-reaching suggestion based on pity? What else could it be? Blake wanted her, there was no getting around it, but she’d told him she loved him, and he had not said the words back to her.

  He wanted to make love to her, not get saddled with her as the mother of his child for the rest of his life.

  Blake stood in Ivy’s tiny apartment, the shock of her revelations starting to wear off, but the seductiveness of his suggestion to give her a baby was not.

  He got hard thinking about her swollen with his child. He’d have to marry her. She was right; a child deserved a better start in life than to be the solution to its mother’s physical problems. He would love his child. Ivy would love the baby, too. She was good at loving.

  The alternative—leaving and never seeing her again—was not one he could face. Not now. Not after he’d shared a level of trust in intimacy he’d never known with anyone else. Never wanted to know with anyone else.

  He loved her.

  Why had it taken him so long to realize it?

  He’d fallen for her the first time he’d seen her. He’d avoided dating other women for the last couple of years and used work as an excuse. The truth was, he didn’t want anyone but Ivy.

  He had to tell her. She didn’t know he loved her; how could she when he’d just realized it himself? She was going to say no to having his baby and marrying him if he didn’t explain how he felt.

  And he knew just the way to do it.

  Ivy was sitting in her office chair, working on her ledgers, when Blake walked in. He’d left word with Trudy he was going to be gone for a few hours, and apparently Ivy had opted to put that time to good use getting some work done.