“Oh. Oh, yes, of course. I’m sorry.”
She was off him like a shot, rolling over to the other side of the big bed. He was sorry he awakened her. Drugged by sex, she’d succumbed to Mother Nature, that wily creature who’d built the need into the female to lie still to allow her eggs to be fertilized.
When he came back to the bathroom, she’d crawled under his sheet, pulled it up to her chin and closed her eyes.
He lay down beside her, his member at rest. “What are you doing?”
Those big green eyes flashed up at him. “Trying to think what I’m going to say to you.”
“Any clues yet?” Would this woman always delight him like this?
“Nope. You have any ideas?”
“Well,” he drew back the sheet and even though she flinched, he traced a finger around and under her breast, “We could talk about whether you’ll move in with me tonight, or wait until tomorrow morning.”
She stared up at him, not moving as he continued to caress her breast and play with her nipple. “Isn’t it a little…soon?”
“How old are you, Liz?”
She couldn’t believe he was serious. “You know how old I am,” she said, “I already told you. I’m thirty-two.”
“I’m thirty-nine,” Hunter said ruefully. “I’ll be forty next year.”
“Do you feel your biological clock ticking?” she asked with a smile.
“I feel,” he leaned over and kissed her breast, “like I don’t want to spend any more time away from you than I have to.”
“If I get a show, I’ll be working evenings. You’ll be away in the daytime. We’ll never see each other.”
“I have a feeling we’ll find a way.” He moved over her then, and she could feel his reviving erection on her stomach.
“Excuse me, sir,” she said, in her best waitress voice, “may I serve you another condom?”
“If you would be so kind, my lady,” he said, smiling down at her, loving her playfulness.
She reached it as best she could with him lying on top of her. He ripped open the packet with his teeth and handed it to her.
“What am I supposed to do with it?”
“Put it on me,” he said.
“I don’t…”
He guided her through the initial phase. “Now, just unroll it.”
She went slowly, wanting to make sure she got it right. “Okay?” she asked.
“A little faster, if you please.”
Ah. She’d found another way to torture him. She slowed down even more, touching his flesh with her moistened finger before she covered it with the condom. When at last, she finished he said, “For that, my beautiful woman, you are going to pay.”
He sat back on his haunches, as if considering her, wondering how creative she would let him be with him. “Put your heel up on my shoulder.”
“Hunter…”
“Are you afraid?”
“No, I’m just…”
He grasped her ankle and brought her leg up over him. Now with her legs wide and her vagina open to him, he bent to her and put his mouth on her, tonguing her over and over.
With her legs so widely spread, she felt exposed, totally in his power. Yet each lap of his tongue, each grip of her buttocks to lift her showed her it was her pleasure that drove him. Each writhing twist of her body told her that here was a man who feared nothing when it came to pleasing her. Every sensation, his hair brushing on her belly, his tongue exploring every nook and cranny of her core coalesced to make her body burst with sensual pleasure.
“Hunter, please I can’t bear any more, I can’t…”
But she could. Then he was inside her and the sensual pleasure of hearing his own sounds telling her of his climax did that impossible thing and made her explode into a thousand indescribable sensations.
Chapter 12
The scent of her body, feminine, faintly lavender, filled Hunter’s nose. Outside, the day drifted into twilight. This was new to him, lying here in the afterglow, thinking about touching her, loving her, keeping her. An almost desperate need to claim her for his own possessed him. He’d never wanted anything so much as he wanted her in his life, in his home, in his bed. How could he make her understand that she belonged with him? She hadn’t said she would move in with him. Would she believe him when he told her how much he needed her? She was so real with him, the way she talked to him with that saucy irreverence that he loved. It was as if she trusted him enough to be totally honest with him. And as for him, he trusted Liz as he never had another woman.
He couldn’t stop touching her. Hunter ran his hand down from her breast to the curve of her hip. The darkening shadows in the room told him twilight had given way to early evening. He couldn’t let her go, not yet. “Shower?”
“Mm.” She sounded sleepy and completely adorable. “Shower sounds good.” She splayed her palm over his chest with that huge scar and then down to his navel. “I bet you use bar soap.”
“Is there any other kind?”
“Yeah, the lovely liquid kind you squirt on your scrunchy and rub all over your body to remove the dry scales.” She accented her words by rubbing his chest around in circles.
“Sounds bad. I don’t have any of that kind of soap.”
“Of course not. You’re a man. I’ll deal with it. Are you…are we…”
“If you remember, I have a big shower stall. Plenty of room for a duet.”
“And a five piece combo with a slide trombone,” she said, laughing.
Having sex with Hunter totally naked in bed was one thing. Standing in the shower, watching him turn on jets and adjust water spray while she stood beside him was a whole new ball game. If she’d had the courage, she would have escaped through the bathroom door.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.”
He aimed a spray jet of water at her belly, making her laugh. “Tell me. What’s the matter?”
“Nothing, I…” he grabbed hold of her shoulders and pulled her into his bare body beneath the spray. “You can’t be self-conscious now.”
“You don’t know me. I can do self-conscious at the drop of a hat.”
“I have the cure.” How adorable she was with her hair half wet and her eyes as wide as stars.
“You brought a condom into the shower?”
“Why not?” He rolled it on quickly. Before she had time to protest, he lifted her and plunged into her, sure now that she could take him without pain.
“Wrap those beautiful legs around me,” he said. “Now put your face up into the shower.” She did as he ordered her. He began the seduction, slowly at first. Then as he felt her cling to him in helpless submission, he took her hard and fast, watching her climax with the water streaming over her face and turning her hair a deep burgundy color, climaxing himself with a ferocity he’d never known.
“Liz,” he said, burying his face in her breasts. “I can’t get enough of you.”
By now, she knew Hunter well enough to know this was an extraordinary confession from the man who prided himself on his self-control. His act of courage deserved a jump into the unknown by her as well. “Nor I you. But Hunter…you’re going to kill me.”
“You aren’t hurting, are you?” He looked concerned, anxious.
“No. It’s just…I can’t believe that after so many years of being celibate, I feel this way. It’s…unsettling.”
His eyes gleamed. “Let me soap you. I promise I’ll be very…good.”
He soaped her breasts, around and around. She laughed, caught between his tickling touch and his calloused palms now softened by soap. He lifted her breasts, now rubbing the circumference, now rasping across her nipple. The burning between her legs, so recently satiated, began to sting.
She made a half-hearted attempt to push him away. “You said you’d be good.”
“I’m being,” he held her breast up to the spray to cleanse it of soap and then tuck the nipple in his mouth, making her shudder in response, all the while his oth
er hand wandered downward where he ran a finger around her navel, “as good as I know how to be.”
She clutched his dark, wet head, offering herself up to him. He took what she offered, tasting her breasts, tasting her navel, tasting her core. While she clung to him, he brought her to climax once again and held her while she cried out his name and turned boneless in his arms.
Outside the shower, he turned to her and when he saw her face as she stood there with water beaded on her beautiful body, he said, “No.”
“No?”
“No more worries about standing naked in front of me. No more self-consciousness. You’re an actress. How can you be self-conscious?”
“Well, first of all, when I’m on stage, I have my clothes on. And secondly, my audience is a safe distance away and not likely to accost me.”
“I’m not going to accost you…yet.” He held a fluffy white robe out for her to don and after she had tied the tie, he grabbed her hand to tow her along with him while he walked naked into his bedroom. There he let go of her long enough to shrug into a masculine floor length robe. Looking like a pasha, he towed her into the kitchen.
“What would Madame like to eat?
“Madame would like to eat whatever you have handy.”
“Madame is very easy to please.”
“Madame has been pleased a lot today.”
That earned her a very male, very self-satisfied smile before he opened the refrigerator door and disappeared behind it. “We have an outstanding collection of frog legs, fire ants or chicken gizzards.”
She laughed, all the while wondering where this supposedly serious executive came up with such outrageous teasing. “Would they be served in a cream sauce?” she said.
“Fresh out of cream.”
“I never eat frog legs without a dollop of cream.”
“Well, then, frog legs are out. How do you feel about an omelet with tomatoes?”
“How do I feel?” Overwhelmed by her love for this man, she stepped up to his back and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her breasts against his chest. “You tell me.”
He bunted her lightly with his rear end. “You feel like…a very hungry woman.”
“You can tell that from where you are?”
He did another little butt push into her abdomen. “Definitely. Very hungry.”
She released him then and said, “So point me in the direction of the eggs.”
“Oh, no. This is my house, my rules. I make the food.”
“You’re telling me this isn’t an equal opportunity kitchen?”
He turned her into his arms. “Let me tell you something very amazing. I want to give you the moon. But since it isn’t edible, I’ll cook for you. I suggest you enjoy it, since this occurrence only happens once in a millennium, when the stars are correctly aligned.”
His eyes met hers and she wondered how she could ever have thought this man was cold and unfeeling.
“Your cooking skills go beyond toast?”
“Simple stuff. Eggs, pancakes, burgers, cookies. I learned the basics after my father died, or the five of us would have starved. My mother never knew how to cook. We always had someone in to do it when Dad was alive.”
“What happened to him?”
“Heart attack.” A blunt answer that was obviously meant to shut down the subject. “Do you like tomatoes in your omelet?” He released her and turned back to the counter.
“Whatever you have to throw in. Except onions. I might…have a date later and I don’t want to have onion breath.” She went back around to sit at the counter so he could move around and work.
He turned around with a pancake turner in his hand. “You’re expecting to be taken out?”
“I’m expecting to be…taken,” she said, smiling at him.
His eyes darkened. “I hope this man is worthy of your attentions.”
“He’s very worthy. He takes on porcupines. And he cooks, you know. Only once in a millennium.” She hesitated and then said, “Do you miss your father?”
His smile faded. “No,” he said, shocking her. He straightened away from the counter and came to stand in front of her. “You can’t miss someone who was never in your life to begin with.”
“Hunter, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No,” he said. “If we’re going to be together, it’s better to get this out in the open. My father was a failure in so many ways. The only thing he did right was love my mother.” He turned back to the stove, and with his back to her, he said, “I’ve never said that out loud to anyone before.”
She slipped off the stool and went to him to wrap her arms around him. “I’m afraid you’re wrong, Hunter. You do miss your father. You probably missed him more when he was alive than after he died. Try to understand. You wanted something from him that he had no idea how to give. Some men just aren’t meant to be fathers. Obviously, your father was one of them. But you must have found a strength in yourself that he never had, to care for your family the way you do.”
“I only did what had to be done.” He looked normal enough when he served her omelet that looked quite pretty with bits of green peppers and red tomatoes. She took a bite. It was delicious.”
He sat down on the same side of the counter with her and began to eat his portion.
“This is nice,” she said, “eating a simple meal with you.”
“I enjoy doing anything with you.” He was silent and so was she, thinking of all the things they had done together.
He finished up his omelet. “Will your parents think less of you if you move in with me?”
“I really don’t know. I haven’t been home in…too many years.”
“I want to live with you, married, unmarried, any way I can.”
“Oh, Hunter. You don’t know what you’re asking…of me…of yourself. Really, it’s too soon.”
“I know exactly what I’m asking. I’m asking you to share your life with me.” He wanted to tell her how much he needed her, but he wasn’t going to sound desperate.
She wanted to say yes. But how well did she know this man, really? It had all happened so quickly. “I suppose…I could think about living with you for a little while. Sort of a trial run.”
“A trial run? I don’t want any damn trial run. I want you to admit that you want me as much as I want you.”
“You know I do,” she said huskily.
“Prove it,” he said.
She never could resist a challenge. She loosen the tie on her robe and came to straddle him where he sat. That little smile on her face, she said, “Do you want it fast and hard or slow and torturing?”
“Yes.”
She brought a condom out of the pocket of her robe and fit him into it. She’d thought to take control, but he thrust into her and the sheer daring of what she’d done, and the look on his face as he took her again and again threw her into an immediate climax. She clutched his shoulders and cried out his name and thought she would die in this moment of pleasure so acute it bordered on pain. His own climax came and he held her close while he came in her.
She didn’t want this time with him to end. As if he knew, he rid himself of the condom and shifted her so that she lay in his lap like a child. She raised her mouth and sought his, thinking that this kiss must be the last one. If he continued to make love to her at every turn, she’d never have the strength to leave him.
Relaxing back so that she was still in his lap, she said, “Hunter, as much as I hate to say it, I really should go home. I need to check my calendar and see what I have going this week and…”
“Don’t you have your schedule in your phone?”
“My phone isn’t that high tech.”
“I’ll get you a new one…”
“No,” she said and because he looked like he was going to do it anyway, she said, “No phones, no jewelry, no clothes, no surprise gifts. I will not accept anything from you, Hunter except what we have together in bed. If I decide to move in, I’ll pay half of th
e groceries.”
He looked surprised, stunned and then annoyed. “My income is much more than…”
She slid off his lap, hoping this wasn’t going to escalate into an argument. “I don’t care what your income is. I will not be your mistress.”
He was silent for a long, long moment. “Will you be my wife?”
“What?” Shock pulsed through her. She felt dizzy, completely thrown off guard. “We hardly know each other.”
“I thought after today we’d gotten pretty well acquainted.” He said it with that slight lift to his lips, gently mocking her.
“Hunter, today was a day out of time. The truth is, you don’t know what you’re getting into with me. I told you, I sleep all day and work all night. You can’t want that in a wife.”
“You won’t marry me, but you’ll come and live with me.”
“Yes. As long as you accept my terms. No gifts. No money spent on me. Not one thin dime, do you understand, Hunter?”
He couldn’t help but think how ironic this was. Other women he’d slept with had made it clear they wanted a small, no make that a large token of his affection, a diamond bracelet or a Rolex watch. Here was a woman who rocked his world to the depths of his soul and she was telling him she didn’t want a damn thing from him.
Well, hell, if she’d move in with him, he’d try to refrain from buying her anything…for the first day or so. But he wanted to. He wondered how she’d feel if he deeded her that house in Pennsylvania.
Chapter 13
A summer wind lifted a lock of Liz’s hair as she stood with Hunter outside her apartment building. He brushed it away with such tenderness that she almost changed her mind about having him come up with her. But a cooler sense prevailed. “I’d like to ask you up, but I’d better not. We’d just end up in bed and I wouldn’t get a thing done.” She leaned over and kissed him. “I’ll let you know about moving in with you.”
“When you’re moving in with me,” he said.
Liz laughed. “When I might be moving in with you.”
But once Hunter left her and she opened the door to her apartment and glanced around at her furniture that she’d obsessed over, the paintings, splashes of sea green and blue that she’d spent hours choosing, the lovely warm knotted rug on the floor, her portrait of Lassie, she wasn’t so sure she could move in with Hunter. Maybe she needed this space away from him. He was like a drug, taking over her mind and body. And on the more practical side, how could they ever mesh their lives together? The idea of being Hunter Cameron’s wife was a heady thought indeed. But she’d heard enough about him to know that he had one disastrous marriage behind him, some doctor in their home town. The woman had married him, and then when the good doctor found out Hunter was adamant about having a family, she betrayed and divorced him. There had to be some scars there.
Wanting Hunter: Book 1 in the Cameron Family Saga Page 8