by Anna Adams
Her attentive touch excited him unbearably. After she’d pulled his shirt out of his trousers, she stepped back. In jeans and a zip-up sweater, she kicked off her shoes and sprawled across the bed.
“Join me,” she said. “We can talk. If nothing else happens, it’s what was meant.”
“You don’t understand what you do to me?”
She took on the soft look she had when he kissed her. “Come over here and maybe you’ll show me,” she said.
He kicked off his shoes, too, and lay down facing her. “We’ve never shared a bed.”
“No.” Her wistful smile made that seem like a mistake.
He reached for the zipper on her sweater and pulled it—a little—enough to see more of her breasts than he’d ever seen. Her fullness went to his head. His courage failed. She’d been his best friend’s wife.
He put Will out of his head. Isabel slid her hand behind her back, offering herself.
He studied her. “Why aren’t you nervous?”
“Look closer.” She propelled the zipper a little farther. Her pulse trembled against the pale blue bra he could see straight through. Specks of silver in the material shimmered against her skin with each beat of her heart.
He leaned forward, pressing his tongue to the material that felt surprisingly rough, startlingly sexy. Her deep breath only whet his appetite. He pulled the zipper far enough to bare her. He couldn’t wait to take the bra off.
Isabel sat up and pulled her arms out of the sweater, smiling at him with temptation in the curve of her mouth. She rolled onto her back, and he followed, chasing his way with kisses to her nipple. Moisture from his own mouth wet his cheek, as if he’d marked her. He liked her being his.
“Ben,” she said, holding his face where she wanted him to kiss. With his hands and his mouth, he stroked her breasts, his excitement rising with hers. Finally, when he couldn’t stand waiting one more second, he reached beneath her and undid the catch and then threw the flimsy garment off the bed. Kissing her bare flesh made him groan with pleasure.
She tasted so good. Spicy and warm and clean and eager for him, her voice catching in short, sharp breaths. She wrapped her legs around his waist in a not-so-subtle plea for more. He lifted his head and found her mouth, pouring his hunger inside her, begging her to need him as much as he craved her. Yearned for her.
Her hands shook as she pushed his shirt off his shoulders. He struggled out of it. They both sighed as he lowered himself, indulging in the thrust of her breasts against his bare chest.
Skin to skin. Too good. Too good to believe.
“I forgot something,” she said, her mouth near his ear, making him shudder.
“I didn’t, but it’s in my coat.” He’d remembered protection at the last minute.
“I don’t want you to get up.” To make moving difficult, she kissed the center of his throat. The tip of her tongue teased him, and she breathed kisses across his chest. Her tongue here, her breath there. Yes, there again.
She laughed and he realized he’d spoken out loud.
He laughed, too, but stopped when she circled his nipple with her lips. Selfish in his need, he pulled her against his chest. She didn’t seem to mind. As her mouth made him desperate, her hands went to his belt.
“Sit up,” she said. She straightened, too, intent on his troublesome buckle, unaware of her bare breasts, pink from his attentions, inviting his hands. He loved the push of her against his palm, but he wanted to see her fingers at his waist.
Her hair fell forward, blocking his view. He pushed it behind her ears, kissing her forehead, but her scent distracted him. He caught her face again, breathing her in as he kissed her.
“I want the smell of you on my skin,” he said. “When I dream, your scent is all around me.”
With a soft, so-provocative moan, she opened her mouth for his tongue. Somehow they ended up against the pillows, his pants half-off, but she still wore too many clothes. He unbuttoned her jeans, and she unzipped them. He pulled them off, letting his own pants fall. He kicked them away, and went to his coat to take out the condoms.
When he came back to her, she was smiling.
“What?” He dropped the packets beside her and lay across her thighs, pressing a possessive hand to her belly.
“Boxers. I love boxers.” She slid her index finger into the waistband, nearly causing him to choke on an indrawn breath.
“Don’t do that without warning.” He teased her with his own fingertips beneath the brief band of elastic at her hips.
“Don’t do this?” She slid her hand farther, tilting him against her. It wasn’t enough, but much stronger pressure and he doubted his own control.
He shifted so he could reach her nipples again, finally licking her breastbone all the way to her navel. Her panties peeled off.
He rose above her and then lay within the cradle of her legs, mimicking the motions of making love to her, easing his own fierce need for a few concentrated moments. Moisture at her temples tasted salty.
“I keep having this urge to thank you,” he said between kisses.
“For?”
“How good it feels to lie against you like this, how generous you are.”
“Generous? I couldn’t have lived much longer without making love to you.” She let him see how much she needed him. “You seem to feel the same.”
“Oh, yeah.” He lingered over her swollen lips. “You’re a gift I’m not sure I deserve.” He lifted himself and she opened her legs, just enough. He pulled away.
“We’d better…” He didn’t finish, but she picked up one of the small packages and opened it.
“Lie back,” she said.
He let her put the condom on, but he had to clench his fingers in the bedclothes to keep from wrenching her hands away from him. With a voluptuous sigh, she finally straddled him and lowered herself. Not too much. Teasing him.
He met her, barely hanging on to his slipping control. Isabel closed her eyes and let her fingers drift down his chest, bumping over his nipples till he thought he might explode with strain.
“Look at me,” he said.
She obviously tried, but her languid gaze was as potent as her sensual back-and-forth on him. “I know who you are,” she said, straight to the point. “I know who I’m with.”
“Don’t look away.” He slid his hands around the curve of her bottom and deepened the stroke that made them both breathe in. Isabel’s eyelids drifted again. “Don’t,” he said.
“I’m self-conscious, Ben. It’s too much.”
“Uh-huh.”
Smiling, she leaned back and trailed her hands up his thighs. “I only want to be with you. No one else will intrude tonight.”
“Or ever.” He only heard the words after he said them, after he caught the nape of her neck and pulled her close enough to kiss. He lost himself in her taste and took control, pushing her and then pulling back when her cries began to crescendo.
His own body, traitorous with pleasure, nearly betrayed him. He held her still above him, but she still managed to rock—enough to startle them both with her sudden, unexpected release. With a cry, she doubled over and took his mouth.
Silently she demanded he give in. He’d never realized a woman could match his own passion without trying to hide her feelings as weakness. He submitted—freely.
Her kiss, all woman, all need, dragged him over the edge.
It went on and on. She never closed her eyes. They stared at each other as time and pleasure stretched and slowly, oh so slowly, subsided. At last, when he realized her forearms were shaking beside his shoulders, he pulled her down, onto his chest.
Her heart throbbed against his. Their breathing was a ragged accompaniment to the intimacy they’d created. Intimacy Faith had said he couldn’t give her. He didn’t want to think about Faith.
“Can we sleep like this for a little while?” Isabel asked, her voice so sexy he wanted her again.
“Mmm-hmm.” If he said any more, he might say, “I love yo
u.” He felt the words, but he’d just made the best love he’d ever known—with Isabel, of all women.
They both had to be able to trust that words like those didn’t just spring from the moment.
RUNNING WATER.
Isabel opened her eyes. The room was dark, but light from the bathroom spilled in an arc that made shadows of a desk and a divan. Ben appeared, naked in the doorway. She frowned. What he needed was light in front of him.
Heat rushed over her at such an indelicate thought. He knelt at the edge of the bed. She lifted her face for the swift touch of his lips.
“You’re awake,” he said.
“What are you doing?”
“Hoping the house is soundproofed.” He looked back. “We’d better not use the jets.”
“What time is it?”
“Don’t look at the clock.”
“Don’t look at the clock. Don’t close my eyes.” She yawned, satisfaction easing every sinew. “You’re pretty bossy.”
“You’re just pretty. No.” He pushed her hair off her face and kissed her cheeks, her eyes, her temples. “Beautiful, in every way.”
“I like you, too.”
“I noticed,” he said.
She smiled, hiding her real feelings. She more than liked him. She couldn’t imagine ever letting him go back to everyday life alone. She might be falling in love with Ben.
The idea scared her. It could terrify him. They needed more time to be sure.
And they needed to settle the problems that waited outside this room—her parents, his son, her desire to find out if she could live on her own. She pushed those troubles away.
“What do you have in mind?” she asked. With only a smile for an answer, he scooped her out of bed. She clung to his shoulders. “A hernia for you right now would be most inconvenient for me.”
He smiled, as uninhibited as she’d ever seen him. “You can walk on the way back.”
But when they reached the tub, he stopped. His face looked different to her, the angles the same, but her feelings for him had changed irrevocably. She’d never see him the old way again.
“Why are you staring at me, Isabel?”
“Just looking. Enjoying.”
His smile turned possessive again. She’d come back to Hartsfield, searching for her own way. She wanted no one to own her. But her life felt richer because Ben’s expression seemed to say she was his. Terrifying.
“Better put me down,” she said.
“I’m afraid I’ll drop you if I don’t.” He let her slide down his body.
“I liked that.” She stroked his buttocks. “We could do that again.”
“How about a bath first?”
“How handy the faucets are in the middle.”
She took one end, sinking into the bliss of bathwater at a perfect temperature, scented with something exotic. “You’re going to smell good later,” she said.
“I did this for you.” His embarrassment made her laugh.
“I know.” She laid her arms along the tub, wondering how she’d ever lived before tonight. “It’s the ultimate courtship move.”
“Ahh.” He climbed in at the other end, but he seemed so far away. “I’m glad you approve.” He curved his hand around her foot. “What’s wrong?”
“You could move closer.”
“I like you where you are.” With his longer reach, he stroked her thighs.
She sank down as his hands slid higher. Talk ceased. At last, reaching for her waist, he tugged her forward. She went, happy to give him whatever he needed. He pulled her onto his lap, whispering her name in her damp hair.
She had the feeling he was asking her permission.
Again she took over, to show him she wanted to be exactly where she was. The water sloshed gently, teasing her with its own touch as Ben’s hands ran restlessly up and down her torso. His clever touch raised her so fast she couldn’t wait for him this time.
But she made up for it, reveling in his gruff cries against her throat, in the pressure of his hands as he held her where her body felt best to him.
Finally, they washed and toweled each other dry and staggered back to bed to sleep in each other’s arms.
Could rebound love feel this intense? Or could this love be real?
“ISABEL? SORRY, Isabel, but you have to wake up.”
She pried an eye open. Nothing romantic about morning. “Go away, Ben.”
“I can’t.” Kneeling again, he lifted a coffee cup from the nightstand. “I went downstairs and begged for caffeine.”
“You bring gifts?” She loved his eyes, begging her to wake up. She loved his ruffled hair.
It was damp.
“You’ve showered. What time is it?”
“Time to move if I’m going to make it home and get Tony to day care.”
She sipped the coffee, burned her tongue, swore and set the cup on the table before she crawled out of the bedclothes.
“Are you all right?” Ben asked.
“Laughing wouldn’t be your best option.” But then she ruined her warning, laughing at herself. She scratched her head and discovered her hair was standing up in spikes. “I’ll never look at water the same way.”
“You should look at it now.” He sipped her coffee, too. “If a cop stops us on the way back, and you look like that, we’ll both be taking sobriety tests.”
“Suave, Ben.” She wished she’d brought a hat. “Do you have a comb?”
“Yes, but shower first and comb in the car.”
“You’re not trying to get rid of me?”
He stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. Sappy as it might seem, it was a moment she’d treasure forever. He swooped in for a kiss that convinced her of his regret at cutting their time short.
“We’ll manage this again,” he said. “We just have to be careful.”
“You’re right. I can’t even imagine explaining to Mom and Dad.”
After a shower, she found her bag and the clothes she’d packed. Ben had finished her coffee and was dressing hell-bent for leather, too.
“If you don’t have time to drive by my house, I could take a cab from yours.” She hopped into one pant leg, barely avoiding a tumble to the floor. “Except the sitter would see me.”
“I added in time to take you home.” He intercepted her curious glance. “Not because I care if the sitter sees you. I don’t want to send you home in a cab after last night.” He pulled a sweater over his head. “Last night I couldn’t believe how confident you were. This morning, I’m the one who’s sure.”
“Sure we did the right thing?”
“Over and over.” His wolfish grin went straight to her heart. There was something sensual in his bad, private joke.
“I’m seeing consequences I ignored last night,” she said.
“I promise we’ll talk.” He took her sweatshirt out of her hands and helped her put it on. With Will, she would have snapped that she wasn’t helpless. Ben eased her hair out of her hood, and his touch lingered. He brushed his lips across her forehead. “Let’s not forget that comb, though.”
They were the first guests out of the B and B, stopping only to thank Cleo. Isabel promised to call later.
Ben drove with awareness Isabel envied. She leaned into her door and nodded off, waking only when he touched her leg or reached for her hand. He walked her to the door at home and kissed her soundly.
“You’re all right?” he asked.
“Yeah. Are you okay to drive alone?”
A grin twisted his mouth as he turned. “Your snoring kept me awake, but I think I’ll get by.”
His tone wrapped her in affection. She’d rather follow him back to his house than do her own tasks today. “I never knew you were a morning person.”
“I never knew you weren’t.” He leaned over the roof of the car. “Come for dinner tonight.”
She nodded, hating the moment he drove away. She went inside, climbed her stairs and fell across the bed, praying no one would want to view the house.
Waking later, she showered yet again, restored her hair to a look most humans wouldn’t mind and culled her closet for the perfect interview suit.
Ben called at noon. “Getting ready for your appointment?”
“I just found clothes.” She closed her mouth, hoping to moisten the dry expanses. “I’m nervous.”
“You’ll be great. Any organization would have paid event planners a fortune for the work you’ve done.”
“That was good. I needed to hear that, but I’d better go. I’m practicing in the mirror.”
“Good,” he said, amused.
She didn’t remember entertaining Ben so much before. “It’s easy for you. You’ve had the same job since you graduated from college.”
“I’ve been promoted.” Just like a man. He had to point out he was climbing the ladder.
“I mean you’ve proven yourself. I’m worried I’ll fall flat on my face.”
“You won’t. Hold on a sec.” He covered his phone to speak to someone else. Then he came back. “I believe in you, Isabel.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m serious. I’d hire you if it wouldn’t be such a conflict of interest. And also, you don’t have a chemical engineering degree.”
His faith should have comforted her, but it felt too nice to trust. “That’s a drawback,” she said, trying to control her nerves. “I’m going now.”
“Good luck. Bring a change of clothes tonight.”
Her pulse banged around her body, but she yanked on the reins. Something had changed for him since last night. She still didn’t want to share a bed with him under Faith’s roof, and they had to consider Tony, too. “I can’t. Tony wouldn’t understand.”
“You’ve stayed here—who knows how many times?”
“Never the way you mean.” Confused, she tested him. “How would you like to stay here?”
Silence. Thick and unyielding. “I get it. But we’ll see you for dinner?”
He and Tony. And her parents.
She’d barely set down the phone when it rang again. “Ben?”