by Lucy Monroe
“Me.You need me,querida .” He drove inside her with a thrust that made her feel as if he was going to reach her heart from the inside. “Do not forget it.”
“Won’t. I need you.”
He said something else…but this time it sounded like the Chinese cursing he’d been doing the other day. And then he increased his pace until they were making love to a primal drumbeat created by the slap of flesh against flesh.
She’d never known anything so wonderful…or exotic, or powerful…or flat out overwhelming. “Yes! Oh, yes!”
She moved with him with instinctual rhythm that seemed to drive him wild because his hands gripped her hips and he slammed into her with pounding force. A storm of sensation whipped through her, driving her irrevocably toward the peak of a Category 5 Hurricane. But when the cataclysm came this time, she was not alone. She screamed, her entire body arching and convulsing in incomparable joy and he was going rigid in her arms, his hips grinding into hers and her name a primal shout above her.
The pleasure was so intense, tears streamed from her eyes and her lungs lurched on a sob.
His head was still tilted back and he looked like an ancient warrior calling to the heavens in victory.
His body shuddered and jerked and then he bucked his hips once, twice, three more times…each movement drawing aftershocks of pleasure from both of them until she thought she might die from the surfeit.
“It’s too much,” she gasped.
He didn’t answer, just lowered his head with a growl and swooped down to claim her mouth. It was not a gentle, aftermath salute, but erotically possessive and almost brutal in its intensity. With a stunned thrill, she realized it was exactly what she needed and she responded with a residual passion that shocked her as much as she enjoyed it.
Their bodies moved together, more aftershocks of pleasure pulsing between them until eventually, the kiss calmed and the movements slowed. He finished it with a tender salute to both corners of her mouth and her closed eyes, while their bodies molded together in a oneness that had to be as spiritual as it was physical.
“Amber.”
She forced her eyelids to lift. “Mmm?”
“Gracias. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Though she didn’t know what he was thanking her for. It seemed to her that the pleasure had been satisfyingly mutual.
“You gave me a gift of unequal measure.” He kissed her again, this time oh so gently.
Pleasure filled her. “I didn’t think men saw innocence that way anymore.”
He smiled ruefully and shook his head. “I am talking about the gift of yourself and your passion. To choose me as your first lover is another honor and one I will always treasure.”
And she knew, right then, that she loved him. Completely. Totally. And forever.
He left the bed and it was only as he walked toward the bathroom that she realized he’d thought to use protection. She almost choked on her own irresponsibility. She hadn’t even thought about it, not once. But pregnancy was not something she wanted to deal with at this stage in her life.
Honestly, she’d never even considered having children at all. Now that she’d met him, there was a sweetness to the idea she never would have expected. She knew her mom would love to be a grandmother one day, but she’d never pressured Amber to get married and provide babies. Now was definitely not the time, with her career on the brink of great things, but maybe one day it would be.
She heard bathwater running peripherally to her ruminations, so she was not totally shocked to be scooped from the bed by a still very naked Miguel and carried into the large en suite. But when he lowered them into the sunken roman style bath together, a frisson of something akin to shock went through her. It felt almost as intimate to be bathing with him as the act of lovemaking.
CHAPTER SEVEN
HE SANKto a bench in the foaming water and settled her on his lap, then proceeded to wash her body with slick glycerin soap scented with the fragrance of honeysuckle.
“This seems like a really girly soap for you to have,” she commented.
“I find it is best to be prepared for any eventuality.”
“Like feminine guests who stay over?”
“Yes.”
Her body went rigid as her mind assimilated the implications. “Oh.”
“My mother and sisters make a habit of using my apartment as their base when shopping in the city.”
Oh. That was much better than what she’d been thinking. “The family home isn’t in convenient driving distance to the city?”
He shrugged. “Not according to them.”
“It must cramp your style a bit to have drop-in family guests.”
“In what way?”
“Socially.”
His eyes lit with understanding and he shrugged again. “I do not bring other women here.”
“You don’t?”
“No.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
“Why me?”
“We have already decided you are the exception to the rule.”
“Wow.”
“And our time together is limited. I did not want to waste precious hours in transit between hotels and my home.”
“Wow, again.” He was really serious about spending maximum amount of time with her while she was in Spain.
Her newly fledged love surged in a warm wave through her.
“Wow, indeed.” He got a really intent, serious look on his face. “You might consider this moving too quickly, but I would like you to consider staying with me for the remainder of your time in Barcelona.”
Her jaw dropped. “Seriously?”
“Very much so, but I will understand if you feel I am moving too quickly.” The words were right, but the expression in his eyes didn’t match.
If she said no, he was going to try to convince her otherwise. Only she had zero intention of saying no. “The truth? Making love for my first time after only meeting you yesterday already has us on what I consider a light speed relationship course.”
“Sometimes, we must seize the opportunity when we have it.”
“I agree.”
“So, you will stay here?”
“Yes.” The speed with which their relationship had moved was terrifying and in fact, moving in with him for the two weeks would be more a comfort than an additional burden.
She needed the closeness for reassurance.
“Good.” That was all he said, but his whole body radiated satisfaction.
Her lips curved in a smile, though it took almost too much effort. Making love was exhausting. He finished washing her, soothing her with his touch until she was liquid and boneless in his arms…so sleepy she snuggled her head against his shoulder, her eyes sliding closed.
She made no demur when he helped her from the bath and then proceeded to dry her with careful hands and a super soft, plushy towel right off the heated rack. He carried her into the bedroom and tucked them both between the Egyptian cotton sheets. The last thing she remembered as she slid into sleep was the press of his lips against her temple.
Amber woke encased in heat.
Instead of a soft pillow under her head, it rested against short, silky hair covering a muscular chest. A reassuring beat sounded against her ear, its soothing cadence filling her with a sense of well-being. There was no moment of disorientation, no wondering where she was and how she’d gotten there or who was in the bed with her.
She knew exactly where she was and whose strong arm was curved across her back. Which was odd really and she couldn’t help taking a second to ponder the strangeness of her reaction if not her circumstances. She should have been at least a little disoriented in waking up against another person. The only other times she’d ever shared a bed had been when she was sick as a child and her mom had taken Amber into her bed in case she woke feeling worse in the night.
She’d never even fallen asleep against a man’s chest while traveling, or so much as dozed on a warm san
dy beach close enough to touch another body. And she was used to having the entire expanse of at least a double-size bed to herself, but lying there curled against Miguel’s big body felt absolutely right. Not weird. Maybe new, but not something she had to get used to. Just…right.
More right than anything she’d ever known actually. And that was disorienting. Very. How could it be so perfect so quickly? How could she feel like she was meant to be exactly where she was even though it wasn’t anything she’d anticipated…could ever have anticipated?
And even more than the rightness of it was the goodness. It felt incredible to be exactly where she was, her body twinging in places it had never twinged before, her senses inundated with the presence of the man whom she was snuggled so closely against. This intimacy was as delicious as the lovemaking…well almost.
She had never realized how alone she’d been, even with her mom and her so close. This was different. This was a lover, someone who belonged to her, was with her and only her. Amazing.
She carefully shifted her hand against satin smooth skin, gently exploring the contours of his torso. While it felt completely perfect, it also awed her to be here, held by him even as his body slept…to have the freedom to touch.
As a model, others had the freedom to touch her. Not in any lewd way, but dressers, designers…even patrons at a trunk show would feel the texture of the fabrics she wore…her body the mannequin beneath the clothes. However, she rarely touched others. And was only now realizing that salient fact.
Beneath the friendly, confident facade she’d developed for her career, she was really rather reserved.
She hugged her mom…even hugged some of her friends in greeting, but not often and this was definitely different. This was having the right to explore the secrets of Miguel’s body, and even more—to touch him with possessive affection. What she was doing right now didn’t feel sexual…she was curious about how he felt, wanted to learn him, but she was not feeling overwhelming passion at the moment. Just happiness.
A kind of burbling joy welling from deep inside that gave a nod to the loneliness she’d never acknowledged at the very same time it smoothed that loneliness away as if it had never been. Suddenly it was all so clear…she didn’t have to choose between a relationship and her career. She could have both, had been silly to think for so many years that she couldn’t.
Miguel would understand the demands of her job just as she understood the demands of his. They would both compromise and make this incredible gift given to them work.
She almost laughed aloud at herself, but kept it back. Okay, maybe she was getting ahead of the game plan. She’d always heard that men were slower to make these kinds of life choices and she was determined to give Miguel all the time he needed. She’d thought she was the one who would have to be convinced of the viability of a relationship and now that she realized it was not so, she felt remarkably, wonderfully free.
Free to love. Free to bask in happiness. Free to touch. How amazing was that? As her fingers traced the plains of his chest, distinguishing between the parts that had hair and those that were smooth to the touch, the heartbeat under her ear began to beat faster.
A delighted giggle spilled forth from her mouth and she deliberately explored areas she’d already learned were sensitive, like the brown disks of his nipples.
The hand on her back started moving, caressing her with slow, lazy circles that elongated to ovals until on the downward dip, that big hand brushed over the curve of her bottom.
Her breath hitched, the feelings of security and contentment morphing into something else entirely, and yet also still there under the sexual desire wakening inside her.
“This is nice,” he said in a voice husky from sleep.
She smiled against him. “Yes, it is. Wonderfully nice.”
He made a beautifully masculine sound of enjoyment and his hand dipped between her legs, touching her intimately.
Her body gave an involuntary jerk and she gasped.
He stilled. “Was that a sound of pleasure, surprise or discomfort?”
She pressed a kiss against his chest. “All of the above, I think.”
“Explain.”
She knew which part he wanted elucidated. “It stings…just a little.”
“Hmmm.” He shifted and moved her onto her back then leaned down and kissed her. It wasn’t a short kiss, but it wasn’t long and involved, either. More like a nice-waking-up-next-to-you sort of salute. “The casino it is.”
“But I want—”
He pressed his finger over her lips, cutting her off. “A small amount of self-denial now will make for a much more pleasure filled time together over the next two weeks.”
His erection was pressing against her hip.
She moved against it. “I don’t think the self-denial bit is so small.”
He laughed.
“I really think I’ll be all right.”
“Trust me to know what is best.”
“Why, have you made love to many virgins?” she asked, suddenly hating the very idea, but not about to admit it.
“No. None in fact, but my father has every expectation I will marry one and gave both my brother and myself an equally disturbing talk on our sixteenth birthdays.”
“You compared notes?”
“Yes. It is much easier to discuss such things with one another, believe me.”
“I can imagine.” As close as she and her mom were, Helen Taylor had opted to buy Amber a book on her emerging teen sexuality when she went into puberty. When Amber had had more questions, her mom had bought her more books.
She certainly appreciated the approach as it had avoided any awkward discussions like the kind Miguel was talking about.
“He really told you to show self-denial after the first time.”
“If there was any tenderness, or residual soreness, yes.”
“You mean there isn’t always?”
“I do not know, but I imagine not all initiations into lovemaking are as energetic as your own.”
“You mean wild?”
His eyes darkened. “That, too.”
“I have no problem believing that. I don’t think even longtime lovers can usually boast their intimacy is so explosive.”
“You would know?”
“Other models talk.”
He laughed. “Yes, well, we’ll have to be more careful in future. Our after play rendered the condom not quite so protective.”
“What do you mean?”
“It did not break, but there was some leakage at the top. I don’t think anything to be worried about.”
She nodded, agreeing. “It’s not right for my cycle, either.”
Miguel relaxed almost imperceptibly. “That is good to know.”
Only then did she realize that despite his words to the contrary, he’d been worried. But he hadn’t wanted to ruin her first time with concerns. That was just…really sweet. And then there was the way he was worried about hurting her by making love again too soon.
She beamed up at him. “You are a very nice man, Miguel Menendez.”
“Thank you,querida . I try.”
They both laughed.
Miguel enjoyed the casino for the simple fact that it drew a hugely varied clientele, many of whom were not native to the area and therefore affording him a certain amount of anonymity. An added bonus was the realization that Amber had no clue how to gamble. However, it was clear she enjoyed learning…immensely.
And he enjoyed teaching her. It fed his ego to have her turning to him frequently for advice. Upon discovering her novice status, he made the decision not to gamble himself. He wanted to focus completely on enhancing her amusement at his long enjoyed pastime. In doing so, he found himself having more fun than he ever had at one of his favorite haunts.
Though, for the first time in memory, he did not like the looks his beautiful companion received from other men. While he had never dated another woman for the trophy factor hanging off of his arm, he had neve
r been bothered that they drew attention, either. It had fed his Spanish pride even if it had not been a reason for being with them.
Tonight, all he felt was annoyance when other men looked, smiled and damn it to hell if one had not just asked her if she wanted some help.
Miguel put his arm around her waist possessively. “She has my expert advice to lean on,” he said with a smile that nowhere near reached his eyes and in a voice that he used on business enemies rather than associates.
The tall, well dressed blond man, an American by his accent, blinked. He slid his gaze to Amber. “That right? You don’t want any more help learning this here little game?”
She shook her head, her smile too sweet for Miguel’s comfort. “No, thank you. You know what they say about too many cooks in the kitchen spoiling the broth. Too much advice does the same thing in things like this.”
“Well, you sure you want to keep the one you got, sugar?”
Miguel stiffened at the man’s use of an endearment with his Amber. Forget that he often called women by endearments that meant nothing to him. This was his woman. For the next two weeks anyway.
Amber just laughed. “My best friend in college was from Texas. She said the men were friendly—she was right.”
“Some might consider certain types of friendliness as unacceptably forward,” Miguel inserted with lethal coolness.
The Texan smiled, showing a mouth full of even, white teeth. “Point taken, mister. I’ll just mosey on to warmer climes.”
He nodded to Amber and Miguel got the distinct impression he would have been more comfortable tipping a cowboy hat.
Amber slid Miguel a sidelong glance. “Feeling possessive?”
“After this afternoon, do you blame me?”
“Not at all. When other women look at you, I want to get physical and I’m definitely not the type.”
“I am glad to hear I am not alone in this strange reaction.”
“Me, too.”
He smiled, this time the expression far more genuine than when he’d used it on the blond man.
She turned back to her cards and proceeded to lose the next hand. Once new cards had been dealt, she peeked at hers and then, biting her lip in that adorable way she did, she turned questioning blue-green eyes to him. “What do you think I should do?”