Love Me Tender

by Susan Fox

  His expression was pleased, but almost disbelieving. “You can come like that?”

  She gave a satisfied purr. “You give great dirty dancing.”

  It was time to move the action off the dance floor. She was afraid that if they went into the bedroom memories would surface for him and spoil things. Instead, she tapped his chest to get him to release her, and then she let her feet drop to the floor. Quickly, she shed her bra and thong and, while he was gaping, she dragged off his boxers as well.

  His dick sprang free, thick and bold and beautiful, the tip damp with pre-come.

  Her greedy fingers reached for it.

  When she touched him, he jerked, thrust convulsively, then pulled away. “I’m too close.”

  “You’re nowhere near close enough.” She bent to reach in her shorts pocket and pull out the condom she’d stashed there. After opening the package, she asked, “May I?”

  Humor twitched the corners of his mouth. “Extremely carefully.”

  She obeyed, not wanting him to come until he was inside her. And, from the looks of him, that had better happen sooner rather than later. Fortunately, she was as primed as he.

  The area rug was made of braided cotton, soft underfoot. It would be soft under their bodies too. She knelt on it and pulled him down to kneel in front of her. Then she reached up to tangle both hands in his hair again, and she kissed him.

  He responded hungrily, and in a moment he’d taken charge, urging her down on her back.

  Still kissing, she bent her legs, opening them in clear invitation.

  “Oh God,” he muttered against her lips, his cheeks flaming with hectic color. “I want to touch you, kiss your breasts, but I want you so bad, Cassidy.”

  “I want you too. Inside me,” she said. And then, in case she’d left any doubt in his mind, she said, “Now.”

  He made a growly sound of relief and desperate need, and then he stroked between her legs. One finger slid into her and she gave a welcoming moan; then another finger joined the first.

  “Now, Dave.”

  Then he was between her legs, his erection probing hungrily, and in a quick surge he entered her.

  She gasped with pleasure as her body adjusted to his size. He felt so amazingly good, rubbing against her sensitized flesh. She wrapped her legs around his waist, opening herself wider, urging him on as he thrust deep, fast, almost desperately, over and over.

  Arousal peaked inside her, crested. She gripped his taut butt, dug her fingers in, and he gave a wrenching groan. He jerked into her deep and hard, and she surrendered, letting his orgasm ignite hers.

  They gripped each other fiercely as tremors wracked their bodies, then finally stilled to ripples. Eventually, she unhooked her rubbery legs and let them drop to the rug.

  Dave, chest heaving and arms trembling, levered himself off of her and collapsed on the rug beside her. “Man,” he gasped. “Wow.”

  She rolled onto her side so she could look at him. Should she ask? But it was crazy to pretend that there wasn’t a ghost in the room. After he’d dealt with the condom, she said, “Are you okay?”

  “Jesus. Wow.” He turned his head to gaze at her. “It’s been a while. And yeah, I’m . . . good.” His voice was tentative, like he was checking in with his body, mind, heart to verify the truth of his words. He pressed his lips together, and then, to her surprise, he rose.

  Damn. Was he going to call it a night? Send her away? But again he surprised her. Pleasantly. “Let’s lie down where it’s more comfortable.” He held out his hand.

  After he pulled her gently to her feet, he rested his hands on her shoulders and touched his forehead to hers. “Thank you, Cassidy. Now let’s go to bed. We need to talk.”

  Wasn’t it the woman who usually insisted on talking? Still, if issues over his deceased fiancée were a problem, she wanted to know. So she gazed into his eyes and said, “Sure.”

  The album had ended at some point and Dave didn’t bother turning off the player. But, as they passed the closed kitchen door, he said, “Damn, I need to let Merlin out.”

  “The responsibilities of pet ownerhood,” she teased. “Go ahead. I’ll tidy up.”

  “Way to spoil the mood,” he grumbled.

  “If it helps, I didn’t plan to put on my clothes. If you hurry with Merlin, you can watch me wash dishes naked.”

  “Incentive indeed.” His smile was affectionate, yet a shadow lurked in his hazel eyes.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dave shoved his hands in his shorts pockets as he stood at the hotel’s back door, waiting for Merlin to water a telephone pole. How prosaic, almost ridiculous, when fifteen minutes ago Dave had been deep inside Cassidy. Yet maybe he needed these few minutes to reflect. If he could make his brain function.

  He’d had sex for the first time in well over three years, and it had been amazing. Not just for the spectacular orgasm, but because he’d been with Cassidy. Lighthearted, generous, sexy Cassidy. This was good, great, and yet—what was he doing? No, what were they doing? Was this really going to work out okay?

  Merlin came running back, and Dave took him upstairs. They’d obviously lingered too long, because the kitchen was empty and the lights were off. He got the poodle settled again and walked out of the kitchen to hear water running from the hallway bathroom. It stopped, the door opened, and Cassidy stepped out, stark naked.

  Earlier, he’d been too aroused and hurried to truly take her in. Now he stared, admiring her as his body tightened. She was slim, yet her curves were purely female. So was the delicate vee of pubic hair, the same shiny black as the pixie cap of hair on her head. Her natural skin color was olive-brown, her nipples a dusky brownish pink. That tattoo of the wild goose and the moon was subtle and sexy. She was sleek, fine, slightly exotic. Beautiful.

  “Come lie down with me,” he said, taking her hand and leading her into the bedroom.

  Three years ago, he had refurnished this room, removing all signs of Anita. Cassidy was the first woman, aside from the housekeeper, to cross the threshold, and he felt surprisingly fine with having her here.

  When he flicked the switch that turned on a bedside lamp, she said, “You have a four-poster bed. Cool.”

  “It came from one of the guest rooms. A party got a little wild and one of the columns and the top canopy cracked. We took the canopy off and glued the column back together.” He liked it this way, with the simple dark wood columns and light tan bedding, rather than the fancier, flouncier version they had in the guest rooms.

  “No chamber pot?” she teased.

  “En suite through that door.” He gestured. “All the modern conveniences.”

  Cassidy seemed completely at ease with her nakedness, but it disconcerted Dave—rather, it aroused him. He’d told her they needed to talk, and they did. Before they had sex again. Which meant he had to get her covered up. He tugged the duvet down. “Climb in.”

  When she did, he tugged off his shorts and shirt and slid in the other side of the bed.

  “You sure you want to talk?” Her teasing tone let him know that she’d seen his erection. She slid over to curl against him, her hand resting on his chest, one warm leg draping over his thigh. High on his thigh, only inches from where he craved her touch.

  He forced himself to say, “I’m sure.” He put his arm around her shoulders. How good this felt, to have Cassidy’s slight body nestling close. It was a different kind of intimacy from sex; in fact, it was almost more intimate.

  Dave swallowed a lump in his throat. “This is nice.” He wanted to be honest with her, but would she be hurt if he mentioned Anita? Still, she was the one who’d told him that not talking about Anita was unhealthy. So he swallowed and admitted, “I never thought I’d do this again. Cuddle up with a woman. But it’s confusing.”

  “Because of Anita.” Her tone was gentle and accepting, thank God.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you feel like you’re being disloyal to her?”

  Trust Cassidy to cut to the ch
ase. He examined his heart. “No, not disloyal. Mostly I just feel . . . strange. Since high school, I’ve been with only two women. Being with someone else is different.” Quickly he added, “Nice, really nice. I mean, it was great.”

  “It’s okay, I know that. I was there too.”

  No one had ever teased him the way Cassidy did. “Believe me, I noticed.”

  “And I noticed that you have a pretty good recollection of how to fit tab A into slot B.” The leg that lay across his body moved upward to brush the base of his shaft.

  “You’re wicked.” He shifted away, afraid of getting so turned on he’d lose his train of thought.

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Not hardly. I’ve just never known a woman who, you know, kept things so light.”

  She lifted her head from his chest, propped herself up on one elbow, and gazed into his eyes. “D’you think I’m superficial?”

  He shook his head and caressed her tattooed shoulder, trying to ignore the sweet press of her breast against his side. “No. You’re responsible, and you’re generous and perceptive.”

  She ran her finger down the straight line of his nose. “You’re pretty perceptive yourself, Mr. Cousins. At least about other people.”

  “A backhanded compliment if I ever heard one.”

  “I think it hurts you to look too deeply inside yourself, so you avoid doing it. And while it’s great that you’re so concerned about others, maybe fixing their problems helps you avoid facing your own issues.”

  He might have been offended if he hadn’t seen the warmth and concern in her eyes. “That’s an interesting notion,” he admitted. “Like, maybe with you, all the gypsy stuff might be a way of avoiding facing your issues.” Such as how her parents had never given her a stable home, or made her feel like she came first.

  “Ouch.” Her eyes widened and she sat up, the covers sliding free of her torso.

  Gaping at her beautiful nakedness, he tried to be articulate. “I’m sorry. I didn’t say that to criticize. I thought it was okay to talk about this kind of stuff. I mean, you started it.”

  “I did,” she said slowly. “But really, I don’t have issues.” Absentmindedly she tugged the duvet up and secured it under her arms so it covered her chest, which was a pity but at least it helped his concentration.

  “I admit,” she went on, “that my parents set a crappy example. My brother tried out marriage and it lasted for all of, oh, a nanosecond. But my family’s not unusual. Divorce stats are high and I bet there are more unhappy marriages than there are divorces.”

  “But look at—”

  “Your parents,” she finished. “I know.”

  Lying on his side, propped up on one elbow, he watched her face. “Jessie’s parents too. Miriam told me that she and Wade went through some tough times in their twenties, but their relationship is rock solid. And look at Jimmy B and Bets—they’ve been happily married for sixty years.” The spry octogenarians led the Sunday night line dancing.

  “You’re quoting individual cases. Of course some marriages work. But the odds are against it.” She pressed her lips together. “Maybe I shouldn’t mention this, but you’re divorced.”

  He sighed. “Yeah. Okay, I give you that.” But he and Anita would have made it, if they’d had the chance. They had truly belonged together.

  Cassidy read his mind. Gently she said, “I’m not saying you and Anita wouldn’t have made it. But, Dave, it didn’t happen. Not because one of you fell out of love or found someone else, but it ended all the same. And it broke your heart.”

  He frowned, puzzling over the truth of that. “Am I crazy or are you actually starting to make sense?”

  “Gee, thanks for that.” She lay down again, on her side so that they faced each other. “But you see what I mean? If you were like me and never got involved, you wouldn’t have had your heart broken. And that’s how you feel now, right? That you’ll never fall in love again.”

  “I won’t.” He said it with certainty. Then he shook his head. “This is a really strange conversation to be having like this. Naked together in bed.” He was still semierect, but the seriousness of the conversation had taken the edge off his lust.

  “No, it’s not. Nakedness, sex, they help people open up and share.”

  “I guess that’s true.” He wondered how many guys she’d been with like this, naked after sex talking about personal issues. The thought gave him a twinge of jealousy, which was stupid.

  “So,” she said, “are we good?”

  He reached for her hand and their fingers wove together, resting on the bed between their bodies. “I need to know what we’re doing. And I guess it’s, uh, casual dating? Friendship and sex for as long as it works for both of us?” Never before had he thought in terms like that.

  She nodded firmly. “Friends with benefits.”

  “This is what you do. Wherever you go.” There was that silly twinge again.

  She frowned. “I don’t find a lover every place I go, if that’s what you mean. Sometimes I make male friends, and occasionally one of them becomes a lover because there’s just, I don’t know, something special about him. Something special between us.”

  That didn’t make him feel any less jealous. “So why me?”

  “You intrigue me, Dave. You’re sexy, smart, and you’re a good guy.”

  His ego—and his erection—swelled.

  She went on. “A good boss, a good dad, a good friend. You respect women, you have women friends. And you were kind of going to waste.”

  “Going to waste?”

  “You seemed so sad and lonely.”

  He winced. That definitely wasn’t sexy. “That’s how I come across?”

  “You try to bury it. You figure by keeping busy and smiling, people will think you’re happy. But you’re not the best actor in the world. I heard about it from lots of people. How when Anita died, you lost your vitality, your spark.”

  “So you made it your mission to save me?” His voice had an edge to it. She’d started out saying she found him sexy and now it was more like she thought he was pathetic.

  She squeezed his hand. “You are the most attractive, intriguing guy in Caribou Crossing. I want you, and I want to give you something that no one else has been able to.”

  That was a little better. “And what, exactly, is that? Sex?”

  “Yeah, and a bit of freedom from the past. Just because you loved one woman all to pieces, that doesn’t mean you have to be miserable for the rest of your life. Maybe you’ll fall in love again, and if you do, then I hope it works out like it did for your parents.”

  He shook his head. “Even if I could fall in love again, I don’t want to.” And how weird this felt, to be lying naked in bed with a woman he’d had sex with talking about not falling in love. Any other woman probably would’ve been hurt or insulted. Cassidy really was amazing.

  Her clear blue-gray eyes showed only concern for him. “I’m not saying you should. You could be like me and enjoy life one day, one person at a time. Have fun. Get back your spark.”

  “Have fun,” he echoed.

  She released his hand and tapped his chest with two fingers. “Don’t sound so skeptical. It’s not a sin to have fun. Give yourself permission to be happy. Let that dimple out to play.”

  Before Anita’s diagnosis, she’d told him she loved his dimple. After, she’d said that she missed it. No matter how hard he’d tried, no matter how many smiles he’d managed to give her, he could never get that dimple to show.

  He studied Cassidy, who was completely unlike any other woman he’d ever known. “This is feeling one-sided, like it’s all about what you can give me. That’s not how a relationship should work. I like you, Cassidy. I care about you. What do you need, that I can give you?”

  Her eyes widened. He saw surprise, maybe a hint of vulnerability. It was almost as if no one had asked her that before. Her dark lashes swept down, paused, then swept back up. That vulnerable expression was still there. “Jus
t be you, Dave,” she said softly. “That’s what I want.”

  She cleared her throat, and when she spoke again her voice held a teasing edge and the sparkle had returned to her eyes. “Talk is good, but there’s a time to stop talking. How about you stop worrying about things and relax and enjoy the moment?”

  That seemed to be her philosophy of life. Maybe it was a way of avoiding her own issues and maybe not.

  Her hand slid down his chest, her fingers tweaking his nipple on the way, trailing over his rib cage.

  Issues? Who cared about issues? His groin tightened in awareness and anticipation. By the time her fingers dipped below his waist, an erection was rising to meet them. When those fingers curled around him, he sighed with pleasure. “You’ve convinced me.”

  The first time they’d had sex, his body had been on overload. This time he was determined to slow down, to appreciate her lovely body, and to give her pleasure. The deft strokes of her fingers up and down his shaft tempted him to forget his plan. And when her lips closed around him, he groaned and surrendered to sensation. Enjoy the moment, she’d said, and damn it, he was going to. God, she was talented. In seconds, she had him ready to explode. And that wouldn’t be fair.

  He caught her head in both hands and tried to tug, but all the strength in his body was focused in one swollen organ. “Stop,” he gasped. “I’m going to come.”

  She mumbled something, her lips and teeth brushing his sensitive flesh. Rather than release him, she slipped her hand around his balls, which had tightened and drawn up. She caressed, squeezed gently, and—

  “Holy shit!” His orgasm burst through him, all the way from the base of his spine. He was vaguely aware of the gentle suction of her lips holding him, of her throat muscles working as she swallowed, but mostly he was lost in physical ecstasy.

  Eventually, he came back to earth, to find Cassidy releasing him. She sat up, breasts bare and nipples hard, legs curled to one side, grinning smugly.

  “That was amazing,” he got out between gasps. “But you shouldn’t let me be so selfish.”

  Mischief tipped her grin higher. “You think that didn’t give me pleasure?”