by Petrova, Em
“I’m glad you did. That was a hell of a kickoff for our trip.” She grabbed his wrists to still his fingers from climbing higher on her body. “I’m almost done packing. Come on up and keep me company.”
Cris followed her up the stairs, admiring the way her ass looked in her tight pants as she climbed in front of him. The way she filled out those jeans was insane. His fingers twitched with the need to touch. The oak handrail he gripped felt as hard as the wood he couldn’t get under control in his pants.
At the top of the steps, Sarah moved straight ahead into her bedroom, one of his favorite rooms in the house. Cris paused and glanced through the open door of her studio. A corner window was cracked about an inch; he assumed to ease the aroma of paint and turpentine.
The jumble of color drew him in. Paint spattered tarps covered the floor. Dozens of canvases leaned against the wall—landscapes, still lifes of flowers, fruits, and vegetables. An easel stood in the corner with a sheet draped over the painting. He stepped over the threshold and crossed to the opposite wall to squat in front of a particularly bright painting.
Sarah had brought the two-dimensional flowerbed to life. She’d painted contrasting lines in the purple, white, and pink daubs of paint to depict depth and variation in the foreground. The flowers bordered a playground full of activity. It was a happy scene, allowing Cris to imagine the excited shrieks of kids chasing each other.
Turning his attention to the next painting, he discovered a cat hiding in the leaves of a houseplant. Bold strokes of green, brown, and fuchsia slashed over the canvas. The cat’s feline eyes were streaked with gold. Overall, the image was playful and light.
So unlike the dark paintings Larie had created.
While he glanced at the pictures, he couldn’t help make a comparison between the two women. Where Larie had languished in despair and depression, Sarah seemed to thrive on life and joy. And her artwork showed it.
As he pushed to his feet, regret swelled in his ribcage. If he had only taken a moment to really look at her work instead of having a damn knee-jerk reaction to her in-home studio. He’d made an ass of himself. Things could have been so different. Shaking his head, he stepped over to the sheet-draped easel and grasped the corner of the pale blue material.
“Please don’t,” Sarah said softly from behind. “It isn’t done.”
Relinquishing his hold, he turned to find her leaning against the doorframe. Arms crossed over her chest, her eyes were wary under lowered brows, her lips pursed together. Desire to kiss the concern away was strong.
He gestured around the room. “Sarah, these are really good. I can’t get over your talent.” He was by her side in four long strides. Laying his hand on her arm, he apologized. “I’m so sorry I didn’t take a second to look at your work the other day. Before I blew up like a dick with ears.”
Surprised laughter curved her lips into a sweet smile. “There’s an image I could paint.” Her gaze flickered to his crotch, then flashed back to his face. “You want to be the model?”
He battled the urge to rub his lower body hard against hers. “Uh-uh.” He grinned at her and pulled her hand to his lips. He kissed her fingertips one at a time. “But I might be willing to commission a bronze of you and I together. Maybe we could experiment with some poses.”
Sarah’s mouth opened, and she drew her breath sharply. Her eyes glazed over. “Not my medium, but I might be willing to expand my horizons.”
Cris sucked the tip of her index finger between his lips and gave it a little nip, enjoying the unfocused look in her eyes. God, he couldn’t wait to get her in the hotel room and take off every stitch of her clothes. With his teeth. He’d do it now if he didn’t have this goddamn meeting to attend. “Are you ready?” he asked. He pressed a kiss to her palm, then released her hand.
She curled her fingers in, as if she wanted to hold the kiss there, and pressed her fist to her heart. She nodded.
Cris put his hands on her hips and nudged her backward out the door. A floral overnight bag was on the floor in the hall. He hooked the strap over his shoulder with one hand, lacing his other one with hers. When they reached the bottom of the steps, Sarah grabbed her purse and keys from the table by the door. He let go of her hand and took her tote to the SUV. Once she locked up, she skipped down the steps with a happy smile on her face.
He helped her into the car, and while she fussed with the seat belt, he crossed around in front of the vehicle, his step lighter than it had been in...forever.
Once they were on the freeway, he reached across the console and grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together. Hers were warm and soft, and just right between his. “Have you figured out what you are going to do while I’m in my meeting?”
“I thought I’d catch a cab to Wickenden Street and wander around the art galleries and shops. I love the eclectic feel and energy of the area. I haven’t spent any time there in, I don’t know, probably two years. How long will your meeting last?” she asked.
“At least four hours.” Long, agonizing hours when he knew Sarah would be waiting, hopefully naked and willing for him once he was through. “That should give you plenty of time to explore. I’ll probably have to hit happy hour with the group, but you are definitely invited along. I made a dinner reservation at a great restaurant on the waterfront.”
“You said your meeting is in the hotel where we’re staying. Is it a big group?”
He nodded as he stroked his thumb over the back of her soft hand. “It’s part of a continuing education series offered on weekends, so typically there are at least twenty fire marshals in attendance.”
Sarah shifted around in her seat until she faced him. She propped her elbow on the console and her chin on her hand. “Do you like your job?”
“Very much. I prefer the inspection part versus the investigation aspect. I’d rather make sure people avoid the kind of accidents that destroy lives and property.”
Sarah continued to ask questions, keeping up a lively conversation as they zipped south on Interstate 95. Traffic was heavy, but they weren’t delayed by any jams.
Once they arrived at their destination, he checked them in. Unfortunately, their room wasn’t ready. They left their bags in the custody of the concierge, who called a taxi for Sarah.
While they waited near the door for the cab to arrive, Cris kept Sarah’s hand in his. He wanted to prolong contact. Oh hell, he wanted to do way more than that, but any attempt at kissing her right now would result in four hours of agony sitting in a meeting room on a hard chair with a great big stiffy in his trousers.
He did peck her cheek right before she climbed into the taxi. “Next time we come back, we’ll take the afternoon and explore together.”
She pressed her hand to his jaw. “I’d like that. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
Cris stood at the curb watching the cab drive away, his heart pounding in his chest, a dopey grin on his lips.
Damn! He’d gone and fallen in love with her.
Chapter Fourteen
A light wind blew through the art district, and the temperature hovered in the low fifties as Sarah strolled through the streets of Providence. Her heavy jacket blocked most of the chill temps, but her cheeks tingled as she wandered in and out of shops and galleries.
Most of the leaves had fallen from the trees lining the road, and only a few rangy flowers remained in the pots by the storefronts. Fall color was giving way to Christmas decorations in many of the shops. Thanksgiving was right around the corner, and Sarah wondered if she and Cris might spend the holiday together.
The kiss they’d shared before they left her house continued to wreak havoc on her body. The entire time she wandered the shopping district she was aroused and eager. Nerves tingled, and her lower body all but vibrated with a need she knew would only be satisfied with time between the sheets with Cris.
In a quick exchange of texts with him, they’d decided she’d meet them at a waterfront pub for happy hour before they went to dinner. As
the hour neared, she hailed a cab and headed back to the hotel with her purchases. She’d splurged on a golden-red misshapen bowl that would look lovely on the fireplace mantel.
The room was ready when she arrived, and Cris had already brought up their bags. A stunning view of the riverfront sprawled out beyond the oversize window. Twinkling lights spread into the distance. Sarah dropped the shopping bag and purse on the bench along one wall and turned to face the king-size bed. In the center of one of the plump pillows, a single red rose had been laid.
She crossed the room and sat on the plush mattress. Heady fragrance filled her senses when she lifted the flower and buried her nose in it. Warmth swirled through her slowly at the small romantic gesture. Knowing she’d be spending the night in Cris’s arms in the luxurious sheets sped up her breath and ratcheted the tingles she’d experienced all afternoon to zings of expectation.
After a brisk walk on the brightly lit street, she found the designated pub. Another couple preceded her through the door. Right away she spied Cris at a high-top table with a group of people. He drummed his fingers on the tabletop, lips turned down and brow puckered together as he regarded the couple in front of her.
When they turned right at the hostess station, it left Sarah visible. His slow, sexy grin reached his eyes. He jumped from his barstool and met her halfway across the room. He settled his hands on her shoulder. “You made it.”
He didn’t allow her time to reply before claiming her mouth. He slanted his lips over hers, flexing his fingers on her shoulders. Sarah rested her hands on his lean waist and returned the kiss. They stood together, a quiet island in the noisy sea of the crowded pub.
When Cris ended the kiss, he rested his forehead on hers. “I missed you. I had the hardest time concentrating on the lecture this afternoon.”
“I missed you, too.”
“Come on and meet the guys. We have time for one quick drink before our reservation.” He moved his hand down and wove his fingers around hers, giving a slight tug as he took a step back.
Sarah followed him to the corner of the room where he introduced her to his friends. He helped her up to the stool and reached across her to grab a clean glass and a pitcher of beer.
When he started pouring, she said, “Just a half glass for me.”
His chest nudged her shoulder when he leaned over to put the pitcher down. Oh, how she longed for more bodily contact than that simple nudge. He rested his hand between her shoulder blades. “How was shopping?”
“Great. Found a couple of bargains I couldn’t resist.” She took a sip, savoring the malty taste. Around her, the conversation turned lively as Cris’s friends continued to discuss football and hockey.
Cris propped his foot on the rung of her chair, his inner thigh rubbing against her backside. Heat spread from the point of contact straight to the spot between her legs. He laid his hand on her shoulder and responded to a question one of his friends asked. He idly trailed his hand along her spine, from the neck of her sweater to the waist of her jeans. When he delved his fingers beneath her beltline for an instant, it felt like sparklers shooting off in her belly.
When he shifted his position behind her, his hips cradled hers, his cock nudging her butt. Heart racing, she shot him a quick glance, but he remained in conversation with the guy to his left, debating who had the better QB, the Patriots or the Giants. Sarah didn’t give a flip. They could be discussing paint drying, and it wouldn’t matter. As long as Cris kept his hands and his warm body on her.
When he leaned over her for his beer, he brushed hard against her, poking her behind with what had become a rod in his pants. Her breath rushed out with the contact, and she licked her suddenly dry lips.
Cris glanced at his phone. “Look at the time. Sarah, we should get going. We have dinner reservations,” he explained to the men surrounding the table.
Sarah bounced off the stool and gathered her coat and purse as Cris took a position behind her again. He helped her on with her coat as she said her goodbyes to Cris’s friends. As they walked toward the exit, Cris kept his hand at the small of her back, his touch warm even through her hip-length canvas jacket.
Cris had made reservations at an elegant riverfront restaurant, complete with a strolling violinist. Sarah had been in agony by the time Cris had licked ice cream from the back of his dessert spoon. Her nipples tightened as he sucked a dribble of the mint chocolate chip from her finger.
When they were back on the street, she snuggled against his chest and trailed her lips along his jaw. “Cris, I’m still hungry.”
“Come on, then. We’ll go back.”
“Not for food. I’m craving you.”
He grabbed her hand with a laugh and tugged her toward the hotel. They sped up to the front entrance. Somehow they managed to walk sedately through the lobby. While they waited for the elevator, Cris held her hand against his chest. His heart pounded under her knuckles, matching her racing heartbeat. In the small enclosure, Sarah wrestled her hand free to unbutton her jacket. As they walked down the hall toward their room and the lovely king-size bed, she shrugged out of her coat. Cris held the door open for her, and the instant she crossed the threshold, she swung the coat toward the bench holding her shopping bags. It missed and slid to the floor. But she didn’t give a damn because Cris had locked the door, then pushed her back against the wall and claimed her mouth.
The kiss was searing, hot, open-mouthed and lusty. His lips were insatiable, his hands urgent on her body. He anchored her with his hips pressed into the vee of her legs, his hardened shaft rubbing against her insistently as he rocked in rhythm with her quiet moans. Trailing kisses along her jaw and down her throat, he pulled the hem of her sweater up and skimmed his hands along her ribcage.
She gasped when he fitted his palms over her breasts at the same time he bit down on the curve where her neck met her shoulder. Framing his head with her hands, she speared her fingers through his hair as he licked his way back to her lips.
Cris reclaimed her mouth, thrusting his tongue deep inside, slicking it over hers. Pinned against the wall, Sarah raised her legs and locked her ankles around his waist, pressing her pussy to his cock.
He tore his lips from hers, his breath hot in her face. “Too many clothes, Sarah.”
He pushed her legs down and took a small step back. Hooking his fingers under her shirt, his fingers grazed her belly. He swept the garment up and over her head, then dropped it with a quiet plop to the ground.
Staring at her lace bra, he pointed. “Pretty, but in the way. I think I’ll like it even better coming off. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Oh, God, she’d agree to anything to get his lips back on her. Her mouth was dry as she nodded.
With a devious smile, he ran his hands up her chest to her shoulders. He slipped the straps of her bra from her shoulders as he continued his path to the back clasp. With a quick pinch, he separated the two sides. Jerking the straps the rest of the way down, he pulled the bra from her and dropped it on top of her sweater. Searing heat flared when he opened his mouth on one nipple, claiming the other with his hand. Delicious sensation coursed the length of her body, from Cris’s lips on her breast to where his hands had settled on her waist.
“Cris, please,” she moaned, urging him on. Her heart raced like a hummingbird.
While she toed her shoes off, he opened the button on her jeans and lowered the zipper. Hooking his thumbs in the fabric, he squatted in front of her and swept the jeans and her underpants down her legs. Bracing a hand on his shoulder, she stepped out of the jumbled cloth, freeing her completely from any restrictions.
Cris remained in a squatted position and flexed his fingers on her hips. He licked one hip, then trailed his tongue across her belly, stopping to swirl his tongue in her navel on his way to the opposite hip.
He rose slowly, licking and nipping his way up her body. His tongue blazed a fiery trail along her torso and the valley between her breasts. When he claimed her lips again, he slid his hand between
her legs and eased a finger inside. He added a second, stretching and filling her. His groan rumbled in his chest as he slipped his fingers in and out of her. A whimper escaped her throat, and she spread her legs wider.
Suddenly, he jerked away from her, pulling his lips and fingers from her body. He bent at the waist and tucked his shoulder into her midsection, wrapping his arms around the backs of her thigh.
“Cris!” she shrieked as he lifted her over his shoulder. He settled one large, hot hand on her butt and strode across the room.
She laughed as he dropped her onto her back on the bed. The chuckles she couldn’t contain grew sultry as Cris impatiently ripped his shirt over his head. When he flung it to the side, it landed haphazardly on the ice bucket on the dresser. By the time she looked his direction again, he’d unzipped his jeans and was shoving them down his lean hips. His swollen cock bobbed freely against his flat belly, alongside a thin trail of hair. Excitement, longing, and desire all reached new heights, knowing that soon he would slide his cock inside her and drive her over the edge. She already knew he was a generous, inventive lover.
Sarah scooted up along the pillows, her knees wide and waiting. Cris stumbled as he tried to remove his shoes, the jeans bunched around his ankles. He shot his hand out to balance himself on the bedside table. His rich laughter joined hers as he finally freed his legs. His brow furrowed in concentration, he withdrew a foil packet from his wallet.
Sarah held her hand out. “Let me.”
Sweat popped out on his forehead. He took a hasty step away from her outstretched hand. “Sorry, if I let you, I’ll explode.” Seconds later, he rolled on the latex sheath.
Dropping to his knees on the mattress, he crouched between her legs. Needy shivers coursed up her legs and spine when he wrapped his hands around her knees. He pulled her lower on the bed until she was flat on her back, then smoothed his hands over her hips. With the smallest nudge on her butt, he lifted until her opening was at mouth level.