Love Happens

by Claudia Burgoa

  Her lids fluttered open once more, her gaze shooting to his. Passion. Desire. Confusion. Bewilderment. He caught her mouth, the kiss deep and possessive, pulled away to watch her.

  Her mouth parted, silent breaths escaping as her body tightened, her fingers digging into the hard flesh of his shoulders. Then her head tilted back, a low moan escaping her full lips as her climax overtook her.

  “Beautiful. So beautiful.” His voice was hoarse, the words rough in the heavy air around them. He leaned forward, caught her mouth with his, claimed her as the tremors wracking her body subsided. Stilled.

  He gentled his touch, moved his hand and trailed his fingers back down her thigh. Still kissing, still claiming. Then, gently, slowly, he pulled away and straightened on the sofa, adjusting his hold around Emily as she clung to him still.

  He reached out, tucked the hair behind her ear, pressed a quick kiss against her mouth.

  “I need to leave.”

  Her body stiffened as a look of horror and embarrassment crossed her face. She shifted, tried to climb off his lap. He tightened her arms, cursing himself for saying the wrong thing.

  “Non, you misunderstand. I have practice in the morning and then must leave for Sunday’s game.”

  Emily nodded but wouldn’t look at him. He could see the flush staining her cheeks, knew she was still embarrassed. Something washed over him, an odd sense of possession he didn’t understand. He pushed it away, not wanting to examine it, acknowledge it, just yet. Later, when he was home.

  He tucked two fingers beneath her chin and gently turned her head toward him. His gaze caught hers, held it, refusing to let her look away again. “I want to see you again.”

  He saw the unasked question in her eyes, knew she didn’t quite believe him. He pressed another kiss against her mouth and tried to smile. “Monday night. May I see you Monday night?”

  “I—” She stopped, pulled her lower lip between her teeth for an agonizing second. Then she finally nodded. “Monday night.”

  “Good. Very good.” He eased her from his lap, swallowed a groan as he stood and tried to adjust himself without being too obvious about it. Then he reached for her hand and pulled her to her feet, walked with her to the door.

  One kiss. Just one more. Except one wasn’t enough. He pulled away with a silent moan and ran his fingers along her cheek. “Sweet dreams, my Emilie. Until Monday night.”

  She nodded, still dazed, still looking like she didn’t quite believe him. He grinned, offering her a silent promise, then pulled the door closed behind him.

  Monday night. It was only three days. Certainly, he could survive three days.

  “Did you get the flowers?”

  Emily glanced around the tiny cubicle and nearly choked on her laughter. “Yes, I got the flowers. And the balloons. And the chocolate. JP, it’s too much. I don’t have any room left.”

  Which was the truth. At least three times a week, a new delivery arrived for her. It had reached the point where she actually knew the poor guy’s name. And everyone else in the office had started taking bets on what the next delivery would bring.

  It was too much—literally. And too soon. Wasn’t it? Yes, it was. It had only been three weeks since their first date, even if it felt longer.

  Even if it felt like she’d known JP forever.

  “I only want you to know that I’m thinking about you.” His warm voice, so softly accented, echoed in her ear, sending shivers across her skin. She closed her eyes, tried to keep her body from reacting to just his voice.

  It was no good. Her body had a mind of its own, and it was firmly telling her that it wanted JP.

  She was in trouble.

  She opened her eyes and leaned across the crowded desk, ran a finger over a rose petal. Her touch was gentle against the velvety smooth surface. Pale pink, like the flush that kissed her cheeks.

  Or so the card said.

  Yeah, she was in so much trouble.

  She turned away from the large bouquet and tried to focus on their conversation instead of the sound of JP’s voice. “You said you come back tonight?”

  “Yes. Our flight leaves in an hour, we should be back by five.” He paused, said something to one of his teammates, the words too muffled to hear. “I can still see you tonight? For dinner?”

  Emily didn’t bother hiding her smile. “I don’t know. Are you up for it? The game looked a little rough last night.”

  “You watched?”

  “I did. I still don’t completely follow it, or understand it, but I watched.” She closed her eyes, trying to shut out the memory of the fight she had seen. Quick, sharp, brutal. Over before it really started but damage had still been inflicted. She shuddered at the memory of seeing blood on JP’s face. “It, uh, looked like you got beat up pretty bad.”

  “Non. That was nothing.”

  “It didn’t look like nothing.”

  “Then maybe you can kiss it and make it better, eh?” His voice was soft, the accent a little thicker as he spoke into the phone. Emily closed her eyes and willed her body to behave.

  “Maybe.”

  JP chuckled, the sound nearly as dangerous as his earlier whisper. “So tonight then? I’ll pick you up at six?”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  “Good. Good. Until tonight, then.”

  Emily leaned back in the chair and stared at the phone after he disconnected the call. Yes, tonight. She’d be ready.

  But if she had her way, they wouldn’t be going out for dinner. They’d be staying in … for dessert.

  JP smoothed a hand over his jaw, wincing at the bandaged cut, then knocked on the door. He was later than he’d planned thanks to some bad weather that delayed their flight. He had called Emily to let her know, smiled at the memory of her understanding voice.

  It was too late for dinner, but not too late to see her.

  At least, he hoped not too late.

  He raised his hand, ready to knock again, wondering if maybe she had fallen asleep. Then the door opened and he wondered if he had fallen asleep. If he was dreaming.

  If this was a dream, he didn’t want to wake up.

  Emily stood before him, a vision in flowing white. A satin nightshirt flowed over her gentle curves, clinging to the hardened peaks of her nipples and gentle flare of her trim hips. A matching robe hung open over the shirt, the hem flirting with the swell of her calves.

  Her hair hung loose around her shoulders, soft and shining, almost like a halo in the candlelight glowing behind her. He blinked, wondering again if he was dreaming—until she smiled and reached for his hand, pulling him into the apartment.

  “I—” He stopped, not sure what to say. Not sure what to do. He knew what he wanted to do, but part of him was still afraid he was dreaming.

  She led him toward the sofa, that small smile still teasing her lips as she released his hand and reached for a glass of wine. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so quiet.”

  JP shook his head, swallowed. Cleared his throat. Shook his head again. “You’re beautiful.”

  Her smile widened, shining in the depths of those gorgeous blue eyes. Then she stepped into his arms, all satin and warm flesh as she leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss against the cut on his jaw.

  “Does it hurt?”

  JP shook his head, almost afraid to move. He didn’t have to, not when she pressed her body against his and kissed him.

  Sweet. Gentle. Almost a little hesitant, as if she wasn’t quite sure how he’d react.

  That was all the encouragement he needed.

  He wrapped his arms around her, his hand cupping her ass as he pressed his hips against hers. His mouth crashed over hers in hungry need. Seeking, thrusting, demanding. He’d been waiting three weeks for this, afraid to move too fast, afraid of scaring her off. She wasn’t like other women, he wanted her to know she was special, to wait for the right time.

  He didn’t have to wait anymore.

  But still …

  He pulled away, his ey
es searching hers. “You’re sure?”

  She nodded, her hips rocking against his as she wrapped her arms around his neck. JP didn’t hesitate. He lifted her in his arms, groaned when she wrapped those long, slender legs around his waist, and carried her to the bedroom.

  Candles glowed from the wooden dresser, filling the room with soft light and the faintest hint of vanilla. JP barely noticed as he carried her to the bed, gently eased her to the mattress. He peeled off his coat and kicked off his shoes, stretched out beside her.

  Claimed her mouth again, the kiss deep and slow as he ran his hands up her legs. She pressed herself closer, her hips rocking, her hands grabbing the hem of his shirt. And then she was pushing him, rolling him to his back.

  Straddling him.

  JP swallowed back a groan, forced himself to hold still as she pushed the shirt up his chest. She rained gentle kisses along his skin, her hands touching every inch of him. Smoothing over the tight flesh of his stomach. Across the broad expanse of his chest.

  And then pulled one flat nipple into her mouth and sucked.

  JP nearly shot off the bed. Emily sat up, her hips pressing against his straining cock, and gave him an innocent smile. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  “No, my love, not even close.” She frowned, and he realized he’d spoken in French. It didn’t matter. He closed his hands around her hips and sat up, reached for his shirt and pulled it over his head. Then he slid the robe from her shoulders, watched as it fell around her in a puddle of shimmering light.

  And then he was on his back again, her hands undoing the snap and zipper of his jeans. She slid them down his legs as her hand closed over his cock and stroked.

  Heaven. Pure bliss. JP closed his eyes and let his head fall back, enjoying the sensation of the cool flesh of her hand wrapped around him. Long, hard strokes. Slow at first, then faster.

  And then her mouth closed over him, taking him in. Hot. Wet. Hungry. He threaded his fingers through her silky hair, holding her in place as he thrust his cock into her mouth. He groaned, bit back a curse and rolled to the side. Emily’s eyes opened, a look of surprise in their glazed depths. JP claimed her mouth, possessing, demanding.

  Surrendering.

  He slid the hem of the satin nightshirt up, swallowed her soft sigh as he stroked her clit. Harder, faster, her hips reaching. Searching. Her nails dug into his bare shoulders, her legs spreading as her hips thrust.

  Once, twice.

  Her body stiffened, her back arching against his touch a second before tremors shook her body. JP mentally cursed, moved away long enough to dig a condom from his wallet and sheath himself.

  Then he stretched out on top of her, bracing his weight above her as he guided the tip of his cock to her entrance. Her lids fluttered open, her eyes meeting his as he thrust himself into her tight heat.

  Burying himself.

  Losing himself.

  “Mine, Emilie. You are mine.” She didn’t understand the words, he knew that. Just as he knew it didn’t matter, not when she looked at him that way.

  He kissed her. Hard, then gentle. Pulled away as he rocked into her, his eyes capturing her gaze and holding it.

  He didn’t understand it. This pull, this connection. It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. But he didn’t question it, there was no need to question it.

  “Mine, Emilie. We belong together.” He kissed her again, swallowing her cries as they tumbled over the edge, lost in each other.

  A horn blasted, splitting the air. The sound was quickly drowned out when the crowd surged to their feet, shouting and cheering and screaming. Emily looked around, rose to her own feet and started clapping. Her gaze darted to the giant screen suspended above the center of the ice, showing the play in slow motion. She clapped even harder, adding her own cheers to the deafening noise. JP had scored!

  She should have known that, should have realized it when it happened. But this was her first time at a hockey game and everything happened so fast, faster than the few times she had watched on television, and she had trouble keeping up.

  Should she admit that to JP, when she saw him after the game? Yes, she would. He’d get a chuckle out of it and tease her, then lean down and press a quick kiss against her lips. And then—

  Her mind quickly filled in the blanks and she shuddered, heat rushing to her face. It was the ‘and then’ part that got to her. Always.

  She glanced around to see if anyone noticed her blush, then took her seat and reached for the cup of overpriced soda. It felt a little odd, sitting here by herself, with nobody to share in the excitement. JP would have gotten her two tickets, but she didn’t really have anyone to bring. She had thought about bringing her sister, but Monica was dealing with her own issues with a failing marriage, a busy workload, and the demands of an active toddler.

  And Emily was still relatively new at her job and didn’t feel comfortable asking anyone to go with her. No, that wasn’t exactly true. She could have asked any number of her coworkers and they would have gladly joined her, even if they were a bunch of math geeks like herself. The reason she didn’t was pure selfishness: she and JP were meeting after the game and she didn’t want to share him with anyone, especially not anyone at work. They knew she was seeing someone but she hadn’t yet told anyone who that someone was. In a few weeks, maybe, but not just yet. The relationship was still too new, barely two months old.

  And maybe, just maybe, she was still a little afraid that she was imagining things. It felt like they had been together for so much longer. A little warning teased the back of her mind, cautioning her not to read too much into it.

  Warning her to be careful with her heart.

  She raised the cup to her mouth and took another small sip through the straw, wondering if maybe it was too late for her to be careful.

  No, not yet. But if she wasn’t careful, she could easily see herself falling in love with JP.

  Not yet? A small part of her wanted to laugh. Who was she kidding? Nobody except herself, that was who. But she couldn’t acknowledge it, not yet. And if she didn’t acknowledge it, then she could keep that part of her safe.

  For now, anyway.

  She placed the cup back into the holder then settled back, vowing to pay closer attention to the game. Her eyes darted to the bench across the ice from her, immediately picking JP out from the other players. She couldn’t see him that well, not really, not when she was halfway up in the stands. And he shouldn’t be able to see her, either. But she swore he looked in her direction, swore their gazes met for a few long, heated seconds.

  Did she imagine his smile? Or the smoldering look in his eyes? Probably. But she wasn’t imagining the heat rolling through her, or the sudden need pooling low in her belly and settling between her legs.

  She shifted in the seat and forced her gaze to the skating players on the ice, telling herself not to think about what would be happening in a few hours.

  Too late. Her body was already thinking about it, telling her that she was more than ready.

  Emily had barely closed the door before JP pulled her into his arms. He grinned as her eyes widened in surprised, felt heat shoot through him when desire flared in their blue depths.

  And then his mouth crashed against hers. Hot, needy. Demanding. What was it about her that made him burn? He didn’t care, only knew he didn’t want it to stop.

  Knew that it would never stop. Not this burn, not this need.

  Not the feelings that she stirred to life deep within him.

  He pulled away, pressed his forehead against hers, and smiled. “You drive me crazy, my beautiful Emilie.”

  She smiled back, her cheeks turning the faintest pink as she ran her hands up his chest. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who feels that way.”

  JP nearly opened his mouth, ready to say more. No, not yet. Instead, he leaned forward, caught her mouth once more, swept his tongue inside. She tasted like chocolate and heat, warm and sweet and delectable.

  He d
eepened the kiss, hunger surging through him with an urgency he didn’t understand. He ran his hands along her back, down to cup the firmness of her ass, holding her against him as he rocked his hips toward her.

  She moaned, her fingers already working the buttons of his dress shirt. Flames danced across his skin as she dragged the tips of her fingers across his chest. All thoughts of seduction, all plans for sweet romance, fled his mind.

  He wanted. Needed. Now.

  He lifted her against him, moved the few short steps to her small sofa, then sat. Her body straddled his, her soft moans mingling with his own as she ground against him.

  JP broke the kiss, shifted to removed his jacket and shirt and tie. He grabbed the hem of her sweater, pushed it up and over her head. Then he sat back, his gaze sweeping across her body, dropping to the tight points of hardened nipples pressing against the sheer lace of her bra. He traced the scalloped edges with one finger, scraped his palm against one tightened peak. Then he lowered his head, pulled the tight peak into his mouth and sucked. Nipping, licking, pulling it deeper into his mouth as she rocked against him with tiny moans.

  He slid one hand between them, reached down and undid the snap of her jeans. Eased the zipper down, dipped his hand inside.

  Emily moaned again, her head falling back, her hands digging into his bare shoulders as he stroked her.

  “You are so beautiful, my Emilie. So beautiful.”

  She raised her head, her lids fluttering open. Their gazes met, held, heat and awareness thickening around them. Then she slid off his lap and kicked her shoes off, shimmied out of her jeans and bra until she was standing in front of him, her beautiful body bared for his gaze.

  JP groaned, reached for her in desperation and brought her back to his lap. Hands, fingers, mouth. Caressing, touching, kissing as heat built between them. Engulfing, demanding, consuming.

  He shifted, reached for his wallet with one shaking hand, searching for a condom. He undid his pants, pushed them past his hips and sheathed himself. Then he grabbed her hips and led her to him.