The Summer House

by Susan Mallery

  “Come on. I’ll give you the nickel tour.”

  He started to stand up, then fell back into his seat with an exasperated shake of his head. “Excuse me,” he said, and pulled a small pager out of his pocket. He read the screen. The frown returned. “I have to make a quick call to the office. Give me a second.”

  After pulling a tiny cell phone from his pocket, he hit a single button and leaned back in his chair. “Benson,” he said curtly.

  He listened for a minute, then glanced at his watch. “I’m not making the meeting, Clara. You’ll have to reschedule it.” He looked at Mandy and winked. “No. I’m not coming back to the office today. Please reschedule everything for me.”

  He held the phone away from his ear. Mandy could hear someone talking very fast. Rick waited it out.

  “You’re right. I should have called. Uh-huh. Yes. You can punish me when next you see me. Talk to you later.”

  With that he pushed another button and tucked the small cell phone back into his shirt pocket.

  Mandy sprang to her feet. “I’ve been keeping you.”

  “And I’ve enjoyed being kept.” He rose and moved close. “Don’t go there,” he told her. “I’m a big boy and I made the decision to stay with you because I wanted to. I work about a sixty-hour week. I’ve more than earned an afternoon off.”

  “But your meeting.”

  “They’ll survive without me.”

  She wasn’t completely convinced, but his work schedule wasn’t her problem. “If you work such long hours, when do you find time to practice your scuba diving?”

  “I work hard, then I play hard. I’ve learned to focus on whatever the task is at hand and not worry about anything else.”

  Intensity radiated from him. She thought about his focus when he’d kissed her. Yet another trait for the plus column.

  “Do you need to get back for anything?” he asked.

  “No.”

  Somehow nothing else seemed very important just now.

  “Then let’s take that tour,” he said, holding out his hand.

  The house was amazing. High ceilings and large windows added a feeling of light and space to every room. Old, worn pavers covered the main floor. Rick rubbed at a tile with his bare foot.

  “I should probably replace these,” he said. “But I like how the color has faded with time. You can see where people have walked before.”

  They crossed into a formal dining room. “This table was originally built for the house. I bought it from the previous owners.”

  The table in question was huge, made of thick planks of worn oak. It could easily seat fourteen. Two of the walls held arched glass doors that opened out into a walled garden. Mandy walked to the closest one and pushed it open. Instantly she was enchanted by the strong scent of honeysuckle. Vines trailed over the walls and down to the garden. Small benches offered seating area, and the same reddish pavers covered the whole garden.

  “It’s wonderful,” she said, not daring to think how much this house must have cost. Not that Rick couldn’t afford it, but still he’d come a long way from their small one-bedroom apartment in Boston.

  “If I ever decide to entertain, I thought it would be fun to set up a buffet inside, on the table, then have everyone eat out here.”

  She nodded, already able to visualize how it would be. Twinkling lights in the trees, lit torches in the corners, the call of the night creatures, and the honeysuckle perfuming the air while the sound of the surf provided background music.

  She turned back to him. “The house is worth it just for this alone.”

  “I agree, but there’s more.”

  He led the way into the remodeled kitchen. Stainless steel appliances gleamed against the granite countertop. There was an extradeep double sink, along with a separate vegetable sink at one end of the center island. A small table for four sat by the bay window opposite the entrance to the dining room.

  “I eat in here,” he said, “when I bother to eat at home.”

  She laughed. “Let me guess. Frozen dinners and cereal.”

  He shrugged sheepishly. “Okay. I’ve learned how to install cabinets and refinish a wood floor, but I’m not big on cooking.”

  They circled around to a large living room, then back to the entryway that was about the size of the first floor of her house. A fully stocked wine cellar had been tucked under the stairs.

  “A new hobby,” Rick admitted. “I’m currently collecting a whole lot more than I’m drinking. That could become a problem.”

  “Don’t wines keep?”

  “Some.”

  He started up the stairs.

  Mandy followed, taking in the soaring ceilings, the elegant artwork, the hand-carved stair rail. The second-floor landing led to a large open family room, complete with enough television technology to stock an electronics store. Four remotes were lined up on the coffee table in front of a navy leather sofa.

  “I don’t want to know,” she said.

  Rick grinned. “If you think this is bad…”

  He walked down the hall and opened the door on his left. She stepped into some kind of lab with equipment that beeped and flashed. There were shelves filled with partially assembled projects, or maybe they were completely assembled. She couldn’t tell. Computers hummed. Somewhere under a stack of papers a phone rang.

  “If you ever can’t sleep,” Rick said, closing the door, “ask me to explain what’s in there. That should put you out in about five seconds.”

  She laughed. “It’s a date.”

  Poor choice of words, she thought as they looked at each other, then looked away. Or maybe not, because it reminded her.

  “Speaking of dates,” she said, after she cleared her throat. “I’m not stepping on anyone’s toes by being here, am I?”

  “No. I’m between lady friends. What about you? Is there some burly Neanderthal lurking nearby who’s going to want to use my head as a bowling ball?”

  “I don’t date Neanderthals.”

  The next room was a guest room, complete with an en suite bathroom and a view of the ocean that left her breathless. Two more bedrooms were empty. Rick’s office was at the end of the hall. It was much tidier than his lab, with only one computer on a desk. Several bookshelves lined two walls and a wooden file cabinet stood against another.

  He closed that door and paused in front of another staircase.

  Mandy started to ask what was upstairs. At the same moment she realized they hadn’t seen his bedroom. Then the pieces clicked into place. Of course.

  “The master is on the third floor?” she asked.

  He nodded. “I took out a couple of walls, did some remodeling. There’s a wraparound balcony and the view is terrific.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “Want to see?”

  He hadn’t asked her if she wanted to see any other rooms, and she had a feeling she knew why. None of the other rooms were…dangerous. But a bedroom. That was different.

  Mandy moved to the stairs and started climbing slowly. Her heart began to pick up the pace a little. The added rhythm had nothing to do with the physical exertion and everything to do with her attraction to Rick. That kiss back at the beach had showed her the possibilities. If they went into his bedroom…

  Nothing would happen, she told herself, thinking it was crazy. She didn’t have sex with strangers. She’d done that once and it had left her feeling sick with herself for weeks. Not that Rick was a stranger. He wasn’t. He was her ex-husband, which made contemplating any physical relationship completely crazy.

  “I can hear you thinking from here,” he said, moving behind her. “I’m showing you the house, Mandy, not kidnapping you for the sex trade.”

  She reached the third floor and moved away from the stairs. “Am I that easy to read?”

  He stepped onto the landing and stared at her. “Maybe I remember what you were like.”

  “We’ve both admitted we’re different.”

  “Not that different. Come o
n. You’ll be perfectly safe.”

  Which was good news, right?

  The master suite was just as fabulous as the rest of the house. Rick had set up a home gym in a small room at the back of the house. There were his-and-her-closets big enough to camp in, a tub built for eight or nine and a double-headed shower.

  The bedroom itself faced the ocean, with the bed on a platform. The sleek, modern furniture fit surprisingly well in the old Spanish-style house. Sliding glass doors led out to the wraparound patio.

  Mandy crossed to the glass and stepped outside. Warm sea air brushed against her skin. She could see to the ends of the world, or so it seemed. The grounds of the estate stretched out below, with the sea beyond.

  “You’ve found a piece of paradise,” she said.

  He came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder.

  “So why aren’t you dating a Neanderthal?” he asked.

  The change of subject caught her off guard. “What?”

  Rick shrugged. “Why aren’t you dating someone? I’ll ask you the same question you asked me. Why aren’t you happily married with a bunch of kids?”

  That wasn’t exactly her question, but it was close enough. “I’ve learned it’s better to be alone than to be with the wrong one.”

  His dark eyes flicked. “Ouch.”

  “I don’t mean anything against you. We were young and impulsive.” She waved her hand, not wanting to go into that right now. “There have been guys, but I’ve never felt that I was really in love. I could never see the relationship lasting more than a few months. When I do marry again, I want to get it right. I want it to be forever.”

  She could feel the weight of his hand on her shoulder. His fingers were warm and strong. An image of them sliding over her body made her shiver slightly.

  “For what it’s worth,” she said through a suddenly tight throat, “I’m sorry it didn’t work out for us.”

  “Me, too.”

  Was it her imagination, or was he moving closer? Or was she? Mandy could feel herself swaying slightly. The edges of the world seemed to blur a little bit until the only clear image she had was of Rick’s face.

  His hand moved down her arm to her waist. She felt a slight tug. Stepping toward him seemed the right thing to do.

  They stared at each other.

  “This is crazy,” he murmured, his mouth blissfully close to hers. “I’m generally very cautious when it comes to a sexual relationship.”

  “Me, too. I really like to take things slow, get to know the person.”

  “Right. I’m sort of a two-months-later kind of guy.” His mouth brushed against hers.

  She caught her breath. “At least two months. Sometimes longer.” She kissed him lightly, then drew her tongue along his bottom lip.

  “Much longer,” he whispered. “I have no idea what’s going on between us, Mandy. It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “We should stop,” he said, then kissed her jaw and nibbled her earlobe. “I’ll stop. Any second now.”

  She ran her fingers through his thick hair and arched against him. He was already hard. Her most feminine place throbbed in response, swelling and readying.

  “I’ll stop, too,” she told him as he moved back to her mouth. “Or maybe not.”

  Chapter Four

  Telling herself this was a bad idea didn’t seem to dampen Mandy’s desire. Even as Rick kissed her more deeply, exploring her mouth and pulling her close, she felt herself straining for more. Little things like sense and rational thought didn’t seem very important when compared with the heated passion flaring between them.

  She’d never felt like this before. Never felt such an overpowering need to be physically intimate with someone. Every part of her ached. Her skin felt so sensitized that the lightest touch could bring her to her knees. She found herself wanting to rip off her clothes, to tear off his and have Rick and herself fall together in a tangle of arms and legs.

  “Mandy,” Rick breathed against her mouth.

  He sounded out of breath, which made her shiver in delight, too. She wanted him unable to think, unable to breathe, unable to do anything but be with her right now.

  With their arms around each other, still kissing, they began to move back into the bedroom. She felt the smooth hardwood floor against her bare feet. A memory flickered in her mind, that she’d left her purse and her shoes downstairs. Not that she was going to need either right now.

  Rick cupped her face in his hands, then ran his fingers through her long hair. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured as he rained kisses on her cheeks, her nose, her mouth before pressing his lips to the pulse point at the base of her throat. She clung to him to stay upright.

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “I don’t want to push you.”

  She gave a strangled laugh. Sure? She was sure she was going to die if they didn’t make love right this second.

  Rather than answer the question with something as silly as words, she reached for the buttons on his short-sleeved shirt and began unfastening them. He gave a low groan and shifted so he could reach behind her.

  She felt her zipper being lowered past her waist to her hips. Then his hands were on her bare skin. He was warm and tender as he stroked the length of her spine. Her dress dropped a few inches but caught in the crook of her elbows. She straightened her arms long enough to let it fall to the floor.

  He took a step back and jerked his partially unbuttoned shirt out of his waistband. His gaze fixed on her body, he shrugged out of his shirt and went to work on his slacks. As a rule Mandy wasn’t comfortable being stared at while she was partially—or completely—undressed. But somehow with Rick it didn’t matter. The pleasure in his eyes, the straining ridge of his arousal, all told her that he liked what he saw.

  They came together again, this time touching each other everywhere. He fumbled for the clasp on her bra while she explored the thick muscles of his back. She ran her fingers through the light dusting of hair over his sculpted chest, then moved lower to narrow hips. He freed her bra and dropped it to the ground, then rested his hand on her left breast.

  All thought fled from her brain. She could only feel the gentle touch of his fingers on her skin. He moved his thumb against her tight nipple and fire shot through her. She gasped.

  There was a quick movement and she felt herself falling. They tumbled together onto the mattress, his body half-covering hers.

  Their naked legs brushed together. She looked up into his blue eyes and saw an answering fire flickering there. Need tightened his mouth. His hand slipped from her breast to her hip and back, making a lazy circle. He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her.

  Familiar, she thought hazily. Familiar, yet different. The combination was unexpected and arousing. Some things were the same—the taste of him, the heat—but others were different. She felt tension increasing from his simple touches. Years before, arousal and climax had always been difficult for her, but not today. Not with him.

  He moved his hand lower until he cupped her between her legs. Jolts of need made her cry out. He rubbed her through her silk panties and she could tell that she was wet and ready.

  With one long elegant tug, he removed her last scrap of clothing, then slipped his hands through her damp curls. As if drawn by a beacon, he instantly found her point of pleasure and introduced himself with a gentle caress.

  She closed her eyes and arched her head back. It was too good, she thought, barely able to keep breathing. He touched her with a sureness that made her relax. Every brush of his fingers was more perfect than the one before. Then she felt warm, moist heat on her breasts. As his hand moved below, he licked her sensitive nipples, then began to suck on them. The combination was impossible.

  “Now!” she breathed as her release swept over her. She had no control, no will. The pleasure rolled through her, making her cling to him and silently beg for it to go on forever.

  Eventually, though, the tingles faded and reality
returned. She opened her eyes to find Rick staring down at her intently.

  “That was incredible,” he said quietly.

  She had to clear her throat before she could speak. “Actually, that would be my line,” she said.

  “I want you,” he murmured. “I want to be inside you. I want to bury myself so deep that you don’t have a choice but to do that again.”

  His words made her tremble.

  “Okay,” she managed to say, already feeling her own need flaring to life again.

  He stood and peeled off his briefs, then opened a nightstand drawer and pulled out a condom. When he turned around and she saw his arousal, her need increased. She, too, wanted him inside, filling her, making her lose control for a second time.

  He applied the protection, then settled between her knees. Again she had the sensation of a blending of the familiar and unfamiliar. Then he was kissing her and nothing mattered but his mouth and the probing she felt at the apex of her thighs.

  She reached down a hand to guide him inside her. He was large and thick and she had to stretch to accommodate him. But what could have been uncomfortable was only spectacular.

  More, she thought, pulsing toward him. More and more and more and more.

  He read her mind. As they kissed and clung to each other, he began to move in and out of her. Each stroke filled her, brushing against sensitized nerves that began to quake in anticipation. Tension grew. More. She wanted more. He moved faster. She brought up her legs and wrapped them around his hips, pulling him deeper inside. A strong pulsing began in her belly, then moved outward. She couldn’t stop it or control it or do anything but feel the growing release as it swelled and blossomed.

  “Yes,” he murmured, breaking the kiss and staring into her eyes. “Do it for me.”

  The erotic request pushed her over the edge. Still watching him, knowing he watched her, she gave herself up to the pleasure. Wave after wave of release rumbled through her, making her hold on tight and cry out. He gritted his teeth, obviously restraining himself as long as he could. Then he gave a groan of surrender. One more strong thrust and he was still. She felt the muscles in his body tense, then release with a sigh.