Damn. She was tight... Tight or tense? Either way, he intended to take care of her.
He slid his hand between them, touching and circling the nub of nerves. Her hips rocked in response, urging him deeper even as he perceived a wince. He didn’t consider himself an ego dude about size, but clearly there was an issue here. Possibly she’d been abstinent for a long while? He’d heard of that being an issue for a woman who’d gone for long periods without, but he could also see in her face that talking was going to be a serious mood buster. So he ramped up the foreplay.
And truth be told, taking his time with her was no sacrifice. A bit torturous, but incredibly so.
She grazed her nails down his back to dig into his buttocks. “Why are you waiting? I want this.”
He nipped her earlobe and whispered, “And I want this to be good for both of us.”
“I know what I’m doing. I’m not naive.” She rubbed a knee along his hip.
“I can tell.” He smoothed back her hair, smiling. “We’re just having some logistic issues here, and taking my time with you is in no way a hardship.”
He kissed her neck, devoting his undivided attention to gently licking and tasting along the creamy patch of skin running from her ear to her shoulder. Her pulse picked up speed under his mouth.
Every inch deeper inside her was sweet torture, but he was determined to make sure she didn’t regret this. He wanted to be invited back into her bed and he intended to use every touch, taste, instinct in his arsenal to make sure she issued that invitation.
She writhed under him, arching her breasts against his chest. The sensation of her softness against him threatened his tenuous control, but what a sweet temptation. He dipped his head and took a pebbly peak in his mouth, teasing and tugging. And yes, her breathy sigh of approval sent a rush of victory through him. He shifted his attention to the other creamy mound while sliding his hand over the breast he’d abandoned.
Moments melded into each other and he reveled in her relaxing. An interesting dichotomy as her passion rose but her muscles melted. His thrusts slid deeper, deeper still and he searched her face for the least sign of discomfort and found she was watching him. Which meant she was thinking. He wanted her feeling.
He stilled, angled his mouth over hers and held, then teased the seam of her mouth. She parted quickly, their tongues thrusting, her arms holding tighter to him.
Her knees fell open wider, her feet sliding up higher.
Yes, and in this moment he realized her body was starved for touch. She’d been alone for so long, and he suspected she’d devoted herself totally to her children and not to any kind of social life. With that thought, his hands went into motion. He was bolder, stroking, caressing and massaging along her shoulders, arms, sides, hips, along her thighs. She hugged him closer, tighter, her breathy moans mingling with his groan. Release—his, hers—was so close.
When hers hit, she took him right with her.
Wave after wave of pleasure pounded through his veins.
His arms clasped her closer even as they rolled to their sides, panting. Wordless. Her forehead pressed to his chest.
And words were scarce because while he’d expected sex with Natalie to be amazing, he hadn’t expected it to be the best sex ever.
* * *
Natalie stretched, luxuriating in this moment. In her choice. He’d brought the dessert to her, along with his sweet tea.
His low-slung running shorts were back on, but his muscles still tempted her. Max’s messy hair made him seem somehow even sexier. Plopping down next to her, he traced his fingers along her thigh.
The scents of perspiration and his body wash mingled into a perfume that was just...them.
She was sated. Her body relaxed and her senses hummed. And thank goodness her children slept, the monitor still playing the music softly, no sounds other than an occasional sniffle in their sleep.
She had this pocket of time awhile longer, an incredible, unexpected encounter even though she’d come prepared. She couldn’t deny, she was also a little embarrassed at the awkward start as she’d discovered those big hands of his fulfilled every cliché and combined with her abstinence had made for a rather uncomfortable start.
“You’re a patient man,” she offered, by way of a delicate acknowledgment.
“You’re a sensual woman.”
Only because he’d made her feel that way. Wow.
“I feel like we should talk about how things started, how I... It had been a long time...”
He pressed a finger to her lips. “I understand. We figured things out, I believe, and when we recover our energy, you’ll keep communicating.” He kissed her once, twice. “Tell me what you like and don’t like, what you want and don’t want...”
Her hand behind his neck, she drew him closer. “I want more of you—” she nipped his bottom lip “—and more of the pie.”
A moment of the past threatened the present. An image of blond-haired Jeremy entered her mind—their budding relationship. The flowers, the hotel where she’d first slept with her husband. A marriage. A life. Two kids. So much love and it still wasn’t enough to keep any of them safe from darkness.
Swallowing, she closed her eyes, willed herself to stay in this moment. To not slip back to the source of so much pain.
“Yes, ma’am.” Laughing, he skimmed his mouth over hers once more before they both dug in to share the rest of the pie and pass the tea back and forth.
Chewing through her last bite, she studied him, wondering...so much. “I don’t understand you. Surely there are more experienced, less complicated women out there.”
“Less complicated sounds...boring.” He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand.
Swallowing, she tilted her head, trying to understand. “So I’m a challenge to you?”
“Lady, I have challenges in my life all the time and I’m not hopping into bed with them. I just know I want you. And seeing you happy, seeing your face flushed with pleasure, brings me pleasure. That’s worth being patient for.” His tone was so simple. So measured and assured.
“You and I, together, we don’t make sense. Can’t you argue with that fact?” And they didn’t. Their routines, goals. All those things were worlds apart. And she couldn’t take another fissure, another fracture in her life.
There it was again. The past running to overtake her. A flash of her dead husband again. How they stopped talking because it was easier than arguing. That distance made more resonant after his death.
“This last thing I want to do is argue with you. I will say, I can’t claim to understand this draw I felt from the moment I clapped eyes on you. But it’s real.”
Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, and part of her just wanted to make love again and say to hell with talking, with this sharing that was somehow so much more intimate. But just as she started to lift her hand, something in his eyes gave her pause and bolstered her. Encouraged her to take another chance here.
She breathed. Once. Twice. Willed the tears away. In a small voice, she pressed on. “He was my first love, my first...everything.”
He stroked her face with tender fingertips, the rasp of his calluses so gentle. “I’m sorry for your...loss? Loss seems like such an inadequate word.”
“Loss... It’s a fair word. One I understand well.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was a military wife. I am the mother of a special-needs child. Those two things alone put my marriage under tremendous stress.”
A lifetime flashed before her eyes. All the hardships that came with the military life. The disruption of daily life—their routines that had to be started and stopped continuously.
“You and Jeremy had problems?”
“Long deployments. War scars. A child with challenges. Yes, my marriage was going through a
rocky patch, and that broke my heart. His, too, I believe. And we both felt helpless to fix things.” Natalie released a shuddering breath, the air almost punched free by pain. The aftershocks of his death rocked her still. She knew they always would.
How could they not?
“And then he was deployed again,” Max offered, filling in the gaps of the story.
She shook her head, lips thinning to a line. Eyes closed, she willed her tongue to form the words she scarcely uttered. “He volunteered to go.”
“He did what?”
“He voluntarily went on this deployment. He said time apart would be good for us...and now he’s...” The word couldn’t come out, became lodged in her throat. Threatened her ability to breathe.
“You can’t possibly blame yourself.”
A bitter laugh accompanied by another wave of threatening tears. She swallowed, finding her voice again. “I understand intellectually, but I’m human. I can’t help thinking if he hadn’t been trying to put space between us...” She pushed her hair off her forehead. “And then there were the bills from all the specialists for Colby. Deployments come with hazardous-duty pay.”
“Sounds like you both had a heavy load on you.”
“Sometimes, in my darkest moments, I wonder if he was distracted...or worse, if he put himself in harm’s way.”
“You think he could have been suicidal?”
She shook her head emphatically. That was a possibility she couldn’t bear to entertain and could never know for certain. Still, she found herself whispering words she’d never said to anyone. “I don’t think so. But grief is irrational. We weren’t communicating. And if in some flash of a moment he thought insurance money would... God, I can’t even say it, it hurts too much.”
His voice lowered an octave. “I wish there was something I could do to ease this pain you’re carrying around.”
And just knowing that he wanted to comfort her...that meant so much. A tiny piece of her grief unknotted for a moment.
“Just having you listen helps. There’s no one here I feel comfortable telling.” She cradled her head between her hands, her voice breaking. This secret—this knowledge—weighed her down every day. She’d had no one to speak to about this. Not her friends. And certainly not her parents, who already blamed her for making poor decisions in regard to her marriage and family.
“I’m glad you feel you can talk to me.”
“There’s a connection between us.” She watched his eyes lift. “I realize that... What? You’re surprised I would say that?”
“Yes, I am. I know about this...draw between us, but your standoffish vibes have been strong.” He stroked a finger down her cheek. “At least they were until tonight.”
“I’m trying to move on. I want to move on. But it’s easier said than done.” She rubbed the spot where her wedding ring had been.
He touched the bare spot. “Seems to me that you are taking steps forward with your life.”
“You’re just saying that because you have me naked.” She tried to lighten the moment, lighten her heart.
“I’m talking about your B and B, the dresses you make, your incredible kids and even that funny, sweet dog you’re having trained. From where I’m sitting, you’ve got life locked and loaded.” He leaned forward. “And yes, you’re here in bed with me. Beautifully naked.”
Her emotions were raw from memories of the past, but those same memories made her all the more certain. She would make the most of this night with Max.
Because life had shown her well that tomorrow was never guaranteed.
* * *
The smell of asphalt after the rain entered Max’s nostrils. The acidic smell felt like the only constant in his life.
He’d been passed over again by another family.
Fine. He didn’t need them.
He didn’t need anyone.
Standing beneath the streetlight, he surveyed the city—he had no need to go anywhere, since the group home thought he was at some camping trip. He was good at dodging places that didn’t care about having him around anyway.
Out here, crappy as it was, everything and nothing were simultaneously at his fingertips.
The sun sank low on the horizon, setting fire to the skyline. The whole world seemed to be drenched in fire-red hues as a cold wind stung the edges of his exposed cheeks. A hunger rumbled deep in his stomach, and his eyes shifted to the Dumpster behind the Italian restaurant. Every night, they dumped perfectly good bread and pasta.
So what? He wasn’t adoptable. Not every kid had the run of the streets like this. The future was as open as this Dumpster. Rules were made for some other people. He’d make his own standards.
Another growl rumbled from his stomach. Light seemed to stream at odd angles from the streetlight as he moved toward the Dumpster.
Flipping open the Dumpster lid, he began digging, looking for a hunk of bread.
Instead, his hands found a soft sheet. The scent of lavender replaced the wet asphalt. Wrapped around him. Felt like home, a concept he hadn’t ever really explored...
He flinched, finding himself miles and years away from that Dumpster. The city scene was gone, replaced by a domestic one. Natalie slept next to him, the soft sounds of her breathing grounding him in the present.
She’d shared so much about herself, her past, making herself vulnerable to him. And he couldn’t help being moved by that. He couldn’t fix her past and her heart, but he could give her ease, pleasure, a moment’s forgetfulness.
Watching her sleeping body, he tugged lightly on the edge of the sheet, gathering one deliberate handful at a time toward him and off her. She squeaked once, gripping a fistful, then slowly unfurled her hand and released the crisp white cotton so that... Yes...
He revealed her shoulders, then more as the sheet glided over her breasts, farther, farther...until he unveiled creamy skin with a sprinkling of freckles.
Irresistible.
Angling forward, he pressed his mouth to a smattering of freckles on her hip. She moaned, rolling ever so slightly. He sketched his hand down her leg, sweeping the sheet the rest of the way to the floor. He nuzzled her stomach, feeling the hitch and catch of her breaths, encouraging. Arousing. He kissed his way lower, and lower still until his shoulders nudged apart her legs.
The scent of her was an aphrodisiac he would never forget. Her sensual nature fed his own. Kissing her intimately, he felt a delicate shiver tremble through her whole body. Anchoring her hips in his hands, he tasted her fully, greedy for more but careful not to rush the slow build for her.
She was impossibly sweet and soft. Her fingers skimmed through his hair, a new restlessness in her touch as she arched beneath him.
A flush spread over her skin. A warmth he felt under his palms right before her body quivered.
She writhed and shuddered with her release. Her head pushed back into the pillow and she pressed her wrist over her mouth to hold in her gasps and moans of pleasure. He burned to take her somewhere private, where she could revel in her release with full abandon.
And he would, he vowed. He would find a way to have her all to himself. Soon.
Seven
After stacking the orange pottery plates together, Natalie made her way to the sink, careful not to spill any of the toast crumbs on the floor. Her children had just left for preschool and the guests were already all checked out, leaving her in relative silence.
Peace seemed so rare these days.
She turned on the water, letting it heat up as she put the plates in the deep sink. Pumping soap onto the sponge, she thought back to the taste of Max—the night they’d shared together.
For a moment, she imagined his hands around her, craved that touch. Being close to him had been surprising in more ways than she could have expected. The connection she felt to h
im was more combustible than she would have predicted. She’d been looking for more of a simple release, a way to deal with this crazy obsession.
But his touch had been...electric. Surprisingly tender. Beautifully intuitive.
The night would have been perfect, if only her body hadn’t carried a betrayal. She’d expected a bit of adjustment after so long without sex. She had not expected quite so much, from the combination of abstinence and his size. His skill as a lover had brought her to completion, but her body was definitely tender. She almost felt as if she was revisiting the morning after losing her virginity.
And that frustrated her. She wanted to just lose herself in a wild, simple, brief affair. Something that wasn’t going to happen until she figured out this issue with her body.
As she scrubbed the plates, the sound of heavy footfalls sounded behind her, cutting short her thoughts. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Max approach. Stomach fluttering, she turned back to her work.
Max slipped behind her, his arms drawing her to him. Hot breath curled around the nape of her neck. He kissed tender skin there, reminding her of all the ways she’d come undone in his arms the night before. His intense attention to detail, always apparent in his job, had been a delicious gift in bed. Just thinking about that made her breath quicken, and she melted into that moment.
But something else worked its way into those sensual thoughts. Though the guests had all checked out for the day, there was still a chance that she and Max could be spotted.
Swallowing, she spun around, grabbing a dish towel before she placed her hands on his muscled chest. “We need to talk.”
She took a deep breath, willing her pulse to slow down. Her brain to catch up with her senses.
He squinted, as if trying to analyze her words like computer code. She could see his detective gears spinning. “That sounds ominous,” he said.
“It’s not...” Her shoulders sagged a bit, and she seemed to shrink away from him.
“About what?”
Taking Home the Tycoon Page 9