by Karen Foley
“I came here for you,” he said, his voice roughened by emotion. “For this. I came here because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that summer, and I needed to know if it really was as good as I remembered.”
She made a murmur of assent and moved closer to him. Her fingers came to rest on his rib cage and he could feel the heat of her hands through the thin fabric of his shirt. He knew she was exhausted, had just spent the last half day traveling with little to no sleep, but he found he wasn’t strong enough to let her take her bath and go to bed as he’d planned.
He wanted her with a fierce urgency that he couldn’t ignore. He wanted to relive that long-ago weekend, to relearn all the curves and secret places of her body, to recall the sounds she’d made as he loved her and the expression on her face as he brought her pleasure.
“Graeme,” she whispered, and her hands crept upward to cup his neck and urge his head down.
Her lips were incredibly soft, her kisses full and moist as her tongue pushed hotly against his own and sent a current of desire straight to his groin.
She pressed more fully against him, and Graeme could feel the sweet fullness of her breasts against his chest. His hands slid down the length of her back, exploring and discovering the curve and bumps of her spine, and the indent at the small of her back, just above the waistband of her jeans. Everything about her was so familiar and yet so new.
He slanted his mouth across hers, opening her to delve more deeply, to drink her in. She moaned and shifted in his arms, and behind the zipper of his jeans, his erection swelled.
Without breaking the kiss, her fingers worked the buttons of his shirt slowly and surely, until she tugged the shirttails free from his jeans and pushed the garment from his shoulders.
“Mmm,” she moaned against his mouth, her hands smoothing over his chest. “You feel so good.”
Graeme broke the kiss and leaned back to look at her. The silver locket nestled in the valley between her breasts, and the lacy bra only heightened his rising desire, cradling her breasts the way his hands longed to do.
“I was going to wait,” he admitted. “To let you make the first move. I didn’t want this to be about sex, but I can’t seem to control myself when you’re around.”
Lara gave him a wobbly smile. “I don’t want you to control yourself, not now.”
The bathroom was too small for Graeme to do what he would have liked, which was to sweep her up in his arms and carry into the bedroom. So instead he lifted her up, letting her hook her legs around his hips as he cradled her bottom. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hung on. With their lips fused together, he walked with her into the next room and backed her up to the mattress, laying her across the plaid comforter and following her with the length of his body.
His hands trembled as he flicked the closure of her bra open and drew the garment from her body. Her nipples tightened beneath his fingers, and then he worked his way lower, to the fastening of her jeans. Lara tunneled her fingers through his hair, urging him on as he pressed hot, desperate kisses against her breasts, her stomach, her hip bones.
“Please, please,” she panted. She made tiny mewling sounds of pleasure as he slid a hand between her legs and cupped her through the denim. She squirmed against his hand, and he rubbed her clitoris as he tormented first one nipple, and then the next with his mouth and tongue.
He unsnapped her jeans and then the zipper rasped down. Lara lifted her hips, helping him to push the pants down over her legs, kicking them free along with her panties and sandals, and then she was gloriously naked beneath him.
Graeme wanted to worship her with his body, to demonstrate to her that she was his until she no longer had any doubt about where she belonged.
He slid his hand between her legs, sliding his finger along her hot, slick cleft as he kissed her hungrily. She gave a low, keening cry and arched her hips against his hand, seeking more contact, and Graeme knew it wouldn’t take much to bring her to climax.
“No, not like this,” he said, breaking their kiss. “I want to be inside you, love.”
“Yes, I want that, too,” she panted, and her fingers went with unerring skill to his waistband.
Graeme stood up and swiftly yanked off his shoes and socks, and then Lara sat up and helped him push his pants down with hands that visibly trembled. That small sign of her passion nearly undid Graeme.
He’d spent so many years feeling angry.
Lonely.
Empty.
But seeing the physical proof of Lara’s need for him was enough for him to forgive her for the hurts of the past.
None of it had been her fault.
She’d wanted him enough to lie about her age and risk her family’s anger by eloping with him. If anyone was to blame, he was. He should have stood by her side. He should have refused to let her go. He should have told her father how much he loved her, and that he’d never do anything to prevent her from achieving her dreams.
Instead, he’d let his damnable pride get in the way, and he’d nearly lost the only good thing in his life.
Lara.
Sweet, lovely Lara.
She knelt on the bed and her hand went to his aching shaft, encircling him and stroking him until he thought he might lose it right there.
“Lara, love,” he said, on a choked laugh, “I’m not going to last if you do that.”
With a secret smile, Lara pulled away and lay back on the mattress, watching him through heavy eyelids. “Then come here,” she invited, and patted the bed. She let one leg fall open and Graeme gritted his teeth against the erotic sight of her.
So lovely.
Graeme reached for his discarded jeans and fished in the back pocket for his wallet, pulling a condom free. Tearing it open with his teeth, he covered himself expertly. Then he lowered himself to her side and pulled her close, relishing the feel of her supple body against his. She rolled against him, sliding one leg over his hip and bringing him to the entrance of her body.
“Lara,” he muttered, “I’m sorry, love, but I can’t wait.”
Rolling her beneath him, he dipped his hand between her legs, feeling her slick heat. He inserted a finger into her tightness, watching her face twist with pleasure.
He was breathing hard, trying with difficulty to control his raging passion, but seeing Lara’s body flush with her impending orgasm was almost more than he could bear.
“I’m so close,” Lara moaned. “Please, please…I need you inside me.”
Graeme raised himself over her and positioned himself at her opening. She stared up at him through hazy eyes, and her hands went to his hips, urging him on.
Graeme eased himself inside, wanting to prolong the moment, to draw out her pleasure and watch her come undone. Her head rolled on the pillow and cords stood out on her neck as she strove for deeper contact, but Graeme held her hips still with his hands. With excruciating slowness, he filled her. His back ached with the control it took not to come immediately. Her body was a hot, tight fist around him, and the sensation was so intense that Graeme thought he might die from the pleasure-pain of holding back.
“Ah, Graeme!” she cried, and he relented, plunging into her wetness, and then withdrawing to plunge again.
Lara drew her legs back and he hooked them over his elbows, opening her body so that he could thrust deeper. Harder. She opened her eyes and looked at him, and he used his free hand to cup her jaw and run his thumb over her lower lip.
She caught his finger in her mouth and sucked on it, drawing on it as if it was his cock, swirling her tongue over the pad until he groaned and felt his balls draw up tight in exquisite pleasure.
She held his fingers against her mouth with one hand while the other clutched at his hip, pressing him deeper. He felt her inner muscles tighten around him, contracting and sucking him in, and he couldn’t hold back any longer. With a hoarse cry, he exploded in a surge of pleasure that seemed to go on and on, jerking him in helpless waves until finally, he collapsed against
Lara, their harsh breathing the only sound in the tiny room.
They lay together for a long, quiet time, while Lara lazily stroked his back and he inhaled her fragrance and the musky scent of their lovemaking.
The last bit of daylight had faded from the room, casting them in deepening shadows, when Graeme finally roused himself enough to discard the condom and drag the covers over them. Then, with Lara tucked neatly against his body, they slept. His last thought before he let sleep take him was that this felt right. He was finally with the woman he wanted to be with.
“DO YOU KNOW how many times I’ve thought of this room? Of that night?” Graeme’s warm voice slid into her ear and curled its way through her body, all the way to her toes.
With a contented sigh, Lara leaned back against Graeme’s chest and lazily rubbed a soapy washcloth over the exposed island of his knee. Despite her protests, Graeme had proven that they could both fit into the cramped bathtub.They had slept through the night and then ordered breakfast in their room, the way they had done five years earlier. Then they’d returned to bed, reenergized. Reinvigorated. Lara still blushed when she thought of what she and Graeme had done. In broad daylight, no less, with the poor housekeeper running the vacuum cleaner directly outside the door of their room. Lara hadn’t been quiet and, in the end, neither had Graeme.
Now it was early evening, and they’d finally roused themselves enough to take a bath before going downstairs to the pub for dinner.
“Mmm,” she said, admiring the layers of thigh muscle beneath the whorls of wet hair. “But I’m betting you didn’t think about this incredibly tiny bathtub.”
She shifted her position, only to have Graeme give a pained groan. “Careful, love, if you want me to give you bairns.”
Lara stilled for a moment, and then resumed swirling the washcloth over his leg, keeping her tone carefully neutral. “Do you want children, Graeme?”
“Do you?”
“I think I asked you first.”
“You do realize, love, that we had unprotected sex in Las Vegas. There’s a possibility I’ve already impregnated you.”
Lara swallowed hard at the thought of carrying Graeme’s child, and her heart constricted painfully. Given where she was in her cycle, she knew the likelihood of becoming pregnant was slim to none. She twisted her head around to look at him. “I would never try to trap you into marriage, Graeme.”
He looked at her in amusement, and Lara realized what she’d said. “Oh, right,” she murmured, chagrined. “I already did that.”
Graeme tightened his arms around her, one big hand cupping a breast and toying with the nipple. “It’s okay, love. I’ve had five years to grow accustomed to the idea and I find I’m rather liking it.”
Lara turned on her side to see him better, heedless of the water that sloshed over the edges of the tub. “What are you saying?”
Graeme shrugged. “That it’s better than I remembered.”
Lara didn’t need to ask him what he meant. Everything about their return visit to Scotland had been better than she remembered. Since making love to her the night before, Graeme hadn’t let her out of his arms. She was deliciously sore from his potent lovemaking, but she wasn’t about to complain. She wanted to savor every second of their time together, and to hear him admit that these two days had exceeded his expectations filled her with a fierce joy. “I’m in total agreement with you,” she said, and pressed a kiss against his wet collarbone.
Graeme gripped her arms to help her maintain her balance, but when Lara put her hand down to shift position, her hand brushed against the unmistakable rise of his erection. Her eyes widened.
“How do you do that?”
He smiled, all innocence. “Trust me, love, it’s easy with you.”
He lifted her up until she straddled him, and Lara’s breath caught at the sensation of their slippery bodies sliding against each other.
“Oh,” she said softly. Dipping her hand into the warm water, she gripped him, reveling in how he jerked against her palm.
He leaned his head back against the edge of the tub, and Lara couldn’t help but admire the strong column of his throat and the powerful thrust of his shoulders, gleaming wetly from the bath water. He watched her through slitted eyes, and Lara could almost feel the heat simmering in their translucent depths.
When one strong hand snaked through the water and began teasing her, she gasped once in surprise, and then again in pleasure. Graeme parted her sleek folds, his finger skating over the nub of her clitoris and awakening her desire. He rubbed it carefully, deliberately, until Lara rose up on her knees and leaned forward, draping herself over Graeme’s torso.
She shuddered softly as his lips teased her earlobe, biting gently and then soothing the sensitized skin with his tongue.
“Graeme,” she protested weakly, “you’re killing me.”
“Mmm,” he hummed in agreement.
“All I can think about is touching you…tasting you.” Beneath the water, she still gripped him strongly, smoothing her thumb over the blunted head of his penis, while he buried his face in her neck and pressed his lips along the sensitive length of her neck. “I can’t get enough of you.”
She felt him smile against her skin, and then he inserted a finger inside her. Lara shivered.
“You’re so slippery and your skin’s so hot,” he rasped. He crooked his finger gently and Lara cried out at the explosion of sensation. “Ah, there’s your G-spot,” he murmured in satisfaction. “Before we’re through, I intend to find them all.”
Lara raised herself up and he withdrew his hand, cupping and squeezing her bottom instead, and exploring the crease of her buttocks. Lara gasped when he skimmed a single finger across her bottom, and her sex swelled in response, pulsing strongly with need. She moaned softly and positioned his shaft at her opening, sliding herself back and forth over his engorged length.
“Oh, yeah,” he breathed, his voice warm in her ear. “You make me crazy for you. But this isn’t going to work, love. We need protection.” Supporting her with one hand, he reached over the edge of the tub, stretching toward the two condoms that Lara had placed on the edge of the sink. With a desperate lunge that nearly brought him out of the tub and Lara along with him, he snagged one of the little packets in his fingers.
“Success,” he grinned, as Lara rebalanced herself against him.
Lara watched doubtfully as he tore open the foil packaging. “Do those work underwater?”
“I have to think it’s better than using nothing,” Graeme said. “Here, slide back a bit.”
Lara scooted back on his thighs and watched as he raised his hips until he broke the surface of the water. The sight of him turned her bones weak, and with unsteady fingers, she helped him cover himself.
Turning his face, he captured her lips in a kiss that was searingly hot. Lara groaned and in one smooth movement, slid down over his hard flesh, reveling in how he stretched her, filled her.
This was what she had been longing for—this man in her arms, driving her wild with the things he did to her. She curled her hands around his neck and pressed moist, fevered kisses along his jaw, all the while pumping her hips over him, water sloshing, feeling herself draw tighter and closer to release. His lips slanted across hers and she welcomed the intrusion of his tongue, wanting to be closer still.
His big hands cupped her bottom, spreading her cheeks and tormenting her a bit before squeezing them gently. He dragged his mouth from hers, his breathing fast and uneven. “Have I told you how much I love your arse?”
“Not lately,” she said between hard pants, and chewed her lower lip, concentrating on the pressure that was building between her legs and swirling to a point of excruciating pleasure.
“How’s this?” Graeme asked, and then his hand was on her mons, pressing down on where they were joined, increasing the pressure and making her aware of every hard, hot slide of his flesh inside her. When he stroked his thumb over the swollen rise of her clitoris, she gave a stran
gled cry and her orgasm crashed over her in waves, so that she was only dimly aware of Graeme, thrusting strongly upward and shouting as he was swept along with her.
Her last coherent thought was that she needed this man in the same way she needed air to breathe, and she wanted so much more than just a weekend.
She wanted a lifetime of weekends.
14
“ARE YOU SURE you don’t want to have a meal delivered to the room? Someone is bound to recognize you if we eat dinner in the pub.” Lara stood in front of a mirror and coiled her hair into a loose bun, feeling refreshed and relaxed after a nap. Not to mention the amazing sex. If she weren’t so hungry, Lara thought she could willingly spend their entire visit to Scotland in their hotel room.
Graeme lounged on the bed, flipping through a magazine as he waited for Lara to finish getting ready. “Maybe not. I’ve found I’m not nearly as interesting here as I am in the States.”Lara looked at him in the mirror’s reflection. “You’re kidding, right? You’re a gorgeous guy. Any woman with a pulse will find you interesting. Don’t forget, I’ve seen your fan Web sites. Trust me,” she said drily, “you’ll be recognized.”
Graeme swung his legs to the floor and stood up, crossing the room to stand directly behind her. He looked mouthwateringly handsome in a pair of jeans paired with a black shirt. “Nobody will recognize me here. Besides, we need to make an appearance so that the management doesn’t think I’m in here killing you. You scream something fierce when you’re aroused.”
Lara turned to face him, sliding her hands around his waist, not even remotely embarrassed by his teasing. “Okay, then. I’ll do my best to protect you from the hordes of women who’ll descend on us once word gets out that you’re here.”
“I feel so much better,” he laughed, pulling her in for a lingering kiss.
As they descended the staircase to the lobby, Lara was acutely conscious of the many stuffed animals with their tiny glass eyes watching her from their perches along the wall.
“Talk about creepy,” she whispered to Graeme. “Why don’t I remember these from five years ago?”