by Maggie Wells
“I think so.”
The whispered reply was infused with so much feeling Betty struggled to label it. Desire, certainly. Excitement. Maybe a tinge of fear? After all, it had been a long time since she’d slept with any man. Since that night at The Pump she’d played out the fantasy in numerous ways, but none of those fantasies could compete with the way he’d completely unraveled her on a dusty desk. And if the man could evoke such a strong reaction in the harsh light of day, she was scared of what he could do to her in the deep, dark night.
“I think you’re perfect.”
She felt his smile even though the kiss was barely more than a glancing blow. He wove his fingers through hers and tucked their clasped hands behind his back, leaving the remnants of that smile tingling on her lips as he led her across the dimly lit foyer to the staircase.
Perfect.
The word swirled inside her, stirring those jumbled feelings until they mixed and melded.
Perfect.
It beat inside her, matching the rhythm of their footfalls on the steps.
Perfect.
But, oh, she wasn’t. She knew she wasn’t. Proved it time and again. But it didn’t matter to him. Wouldn’t matter to him in the least. Her heart rate slowed even as her blood quickened. Will thought she was perfect, but not in the way she’d been trying to be her whole life.
He loosened his grip on her hand and ushered her past him onto the second of two short flights. Acceptance wrapped around her as sure and comforting as his arms. She could feel the heat of his stare on her back, but for once she didn’t allow herself to lament the span of her hips or the generosity of her ass.
He wanted her.
It was as plain and simple as that. The crow’s feet and lines that worried her didn’t seem to bug him. He didn’t care that her butt dusted three-quarters of the desk that afternoon. It didn’t matter to him that her breasts were in a migratory pattern and her bikini line was pushing jungle conditions. She bypassed a bedroom-turned-office and two more closed doors, her sights set on the thin beam of light that streaked the floor at the far end of the corridor.
He wanted her.
And damn it, she was more than ready to let him have her.
Betty stopped in the open doorway, her eyes locked on the slash of golden light that spilled from the partially open closet door. Masculine detritus covered the top of a tall dresser. A pair of reading glasses lay atop the hardback book on his nightstand. His bed was neatly made, but not for long. Bracing her hands on either side of the doorframe, she resisted his gentle urging.
“Unzip me.”
A fission of energy zinged up her spine as he drew the long zipper down. Warm knuckles grazed the small of her back, turning the area into an unexpected erogenous zone. He skimmed his hands up her back, and every ounce of resistance drained from her muscles. Her hands fell to her sides. The dress slipped from one shoulder. He nudged the fabric from the other and the dress pooled around her feet, the soft whoosh of his exhale warming her nape. She barely had time to shiver before he released the clasp of her bra.
“I want you completely bare,” he whispered in her ear. He peeled the thin barrier of silk and lace away, leaving a ripple of goosebumps in his wake and making her nipples tighten until she rode a razor’s edge of pain. She gulped a serrated breath but lost it when he pressed a damp, lingering kiss to the curve of her shoulder. “Naked. In my bed.”
He cupped her breasts, fitting his fingers to their curve and lifting them high. He kneaded and plumped the aching mounds, dragging his mouth over her skin that felt two sizes too small, tracing the line of her neck with his swirling tongue, and chuckling softly against her ear.
“You’re all I’ve thought about since I saw you. I’m going to have you.”
His staccato confession matched the stumbling beat of her heart. Lord, she wanted to be had. She let her head fall back against his shoulder, surrendering to the soft, wet kisses he rained over her skin. “Yes.”
He plucked at her stiff nipples, eliciting gasps of pain that soon melted into moans. A throaty grunt marked the very end of his patience. She stumbled for real when he pushed her away from him.
“The bed,” he said.
Wobbling on her heels, she cast a sidelong glance over her shoulder and tripped into the room. She grasped a bedpost for balance and raised one foot to remove her shoe.
“No. Leave them on.”
The gruff command made her freeze on the spot. Dark intensity blazed in his eyes as he approached. Wrapping one hand around her waist, he pulled her away from the bedpost. A startled laugh bubbled up from inside her when he pushed her down to sit on the edge of the mattress. But instead of following her down onto the midnight blue comforter, he backed away.
“I’ve got to get inside you.”
He murmured almost to himself, steely determination lining the words despite his semi-dazed distraction. Betty watched in rapt fascination as he plunged both hands into the pockets of his suit jacket. Pulling them free, he unfurled his fingers to reveal at least a dozen foil-wrapped condoms. Delighted by the proof of his obsession, she accepted the offerings with a breathy giggle.
Grinning up at him, she raised her eyebrows in a shameless challenge. “I think you should take your clothes off first.”
Will nodded once then peeled back a lapel. He dipped his fingers into the breast pocket of the coat, and her giggle morphed into a full-blown guffaw when he plucked another condom from its confines and added it to the collection cradled in her hands.
“Ambitious.”
His answering smile grew wide and roguish. “I didn’t want to get caught unprepared again.”
He quickly shed the jacket and tossed it in the general direction of the closet. Her fingers curled into her palms as he raised his chin and loosened the knot of his tie. A flash of Will wrapping that length of slippery silk around her wrists, sliding it over tight nipples, or running the length of it between her legs made her feel hot and heavy. The weight of her arousal pressed down on her, anchoring her to his bed and making it impossible to think straight. Somehow, the sight of dark hair curling around his wrist bone became almost unbearably erotic. Her lips parted as he opened his collar button. Shallow puffs of breath stole the moisture from her mouth.
He made short work of the buttons on his shirt. A snowy white undershirt stretched tight across his chest, proving he wasn’t nearly as thoughtful as she was when it came to ease of clothing removal. Staring at the thin cotton, she gave her head a mournful shake. “I liked you enough to leave my panties at home.”
He laughed as he unbuttoned his cuffs. “You’re a great girl.”
The shirt slid from his shoulders. Tangled in his sleeves, he flashed a wicked grin then used some impressive contortion skills to reach the shirt pocket. More condoms. Their laughter mixed and mingled. Seconds later, both shirts hit the floor in a satisfying heap. Betty didn’t bother to mask her frank admiration as she studied his chest and torso. The man seemed to be exempt from middle-age spread. Tantalizing dark hair dusted well-defined-but-not-overly-developed pecs, growing soft and silky as it funneled down his abs and formed the most delicious arrow pointing directly at his fly. The dark wool of his trousers outlined the ridge of his erection. Unable to resist, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to the hard bulge.
Will sucked air between his teeth. A muscle leaped at the corner of his jaw. His rakish smile was long gone. Without a word, he took another step back and wriggled his hands into too-tight pockets. He filled her hands with even more condoms, the sparkle in his eye replaced by a sharp gleam of tenacity as he worked the foil packets free.
The clink of his belt buckle stirred her from her stupor. She looked up at him as he jerked on the zipper. “Did you touch yourself when you thought about me here naked in your bed?” The bold question escaped before she had a chance to think it through, but still she didn’t want to take it back. Her gaze riveted on his fly, she barely registered t
he movement when he hooked his thumbs into the waistband. “Did you….”
He whisked his pants and shorts down over his hips. His cock sprung from the confines and stole what little breath she had left in her body. A thick vein ran the length of him. The thought of him pulsing against her tongue flooded her senses. A drop of pre-cum glistened on the stretched taut tip. She wet parched lips. A hot rush of certainty filled her.
“You did. You thought about me.” Lifting her gaze to meet his again, she offered a slow, smug smile. “Today wasn’t the first time you got off on me.”
He didn’t flinch or look away. “Sweetheart, I did it again when I came home to shower and change because I was afraid I’d never make it through dinner.”
Arousal rocketed through her as she pictured him wet and hard. And she kept right on picturing it while he shed the rest of his clothes, only rousing from her fantasy when the real deal plucked a condom from her collection then knocked the rest to the floor. A nervous laugh tangled in her throat as he planted one knee on the edge of the mattress and gently propelled her back.
“Later,” she whispered.
Will cupped the back of her thigh and drew her leg high on his hip, his gaze fixed on the sight of his cock pressed against her pussy. “Hm?”
“Nothing.”
His chin jerked and his eyes snapped up to meet hers. Jaw tensed, he nodded once, letting her know he completely understood. The tear of the condom wrapper almost made her sob with relief. She pressed her head into the soft give of the comforter as he pressed the head of his cock to her tight entrance. His fingers skittered along her thigh, but the firm caress of his palm kept her grounded.
Holding her gaze, he dropped to one elbow. “You mean everything, right?” His voice vibrated through her, low-pitched, husky, and utterly uncompromising. “Later. Later we’ll do everything, not nothing.”
Her eyes opened wide as he surged into her, pressing deep and sure with a single thrust that nearly drove her over the edge. Will held himself still, a groan rumbling through him as she pried her fingernails from the backs of his upper arms. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
With excruciating deliberation, he drew back to the very brink. The breath she hadn’t realized she was holding exploded from her lungs when he plunged again. “Oh, yes.”
His hand grasped the back of her leg, pressing it snug against his hip. The crisp hair on his chest abraded her nipples. The air hummed, electrified by the soft sucks and slaps of flesh meeting flesh. His grunts matched her squeaks. Tiny mewls and moans filled her ears. Subconsciously, she knew they came from her, but the sounds were so piteous, so primal, it was impossible to reconcile those pathetic little noises with the roaring pleasure building inside her. A simmer segued into a rolling boil. Bone-deep shudders rippled the muscles in his back. The cords in his neck stood in sharp relief as he shifted his weight, thrusting into her harder, deeper, driving her toward the opposite edge of the bed.
“So tight.”
His eyelids slid shut. The muscle in his jaw jumped, compelling her touch. She brushed his cheek and the veil lifted. Blue eyes locked on hers for a moment before he turned into the caress. Warm lips on the center of her palm. Hot, ragged exhalations skated over her skin, slipping through her fingers and spilling down her wrist.
“Betty.”
He whispered her name as if she created the heavens and Earth. He stared deep into her eyes as he pinned her to the bed, burying himself in her, making her the center of his universe time and time again. Her climax hovered just out of reach. Each stroke of his cock pushed her closer and closer, but not quite…there.
Until his mouth covered hers.
The kiss was nothing more than a glancing blow, but it concussed deep inside her. Waves of pleasure ransacked her body. His lower lip clung to hers. The tenderness in the second kiss left her feeling bruised, battered, and utterly bereft. Gasping for breath and grasping for release from the exquisite torment, she grabbed his ass in both hands and held him tight against her. A low, guttural groan signaled his capitulation. His mouth found hers once more, and Will blew her sky high with one last lingering kiss.
* * * *
Betty ran her fingernails through the hair on Will’s stomach, tracing lazy patterns that threatened to push him to the brink of insanity. Utterly content for the first time in God-only-knew-how-long, Will gathered her hand in his and carried it to his mouth. The wordless gesture stifled the torment but not her drowsy chuckle. “Shh. Sleep,” he murmured against petal-soft skin.
“I’m a little keyed up.”
Her whispered words bounced off his back, but a trickle of awareness tripped down his spine. Heaving a sigh, he blinked away the post-coital laziness and pulled her closer still. She tipped her chin up in blatant invitation, and Will was more than happy to oblige. The kiss melted into a simple mingling of breaths, but neither of them moved to break the connection.
Holding her gaze he asked, “What can I do to help?”
“Me.”
He chuckled and gave her another nuzzling kiss. “I’m not as young as I once was.”
Her eyes danced. “Isn’t that a country song?”
After that first frantic bout in the office, they’d scarfed down some dinner then taken a good run at the everything he’d promised her, but Toby Keith’s tongue-in-cheek lament about his lost youth wasn’t far off the mark. A non-committal hum served as acknowledgment of the joke. Silky gold tresses sifted through his fingers. Something edgy shone bright in her aquamarine eyes. Will searched her face, looking for a clue as to the root of her restlessness. It sure as hell wasn’t a lack of satisfaction. He’d made damn sure it wasn’t that. “What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing. I just….”
The unfinished thought hung suspended between them. With a huff of frustration, Betty tried to wriggle from his grasp, but he wasn’t about to let her go. Rolling onto his side, he hooked an arm over her waist and held his ground. “You just....”
He stared at her, prompting her to finish the thought. When she didn’t pick up the thread, he launched into problem-solving mode. “You’re hungry? Thirsty?”
She shook her head, a faint frown of annoyance etching a line between her brows.
“The pillow’s too soft? The bed too hard?”
“Too crowded.”
The widening of her eyes told him she was as shocked by her response as he was. Apparently he’d found the one woman in the world who didn’t care to cuddle. Glancing back over his shoulder, he could gauge nearly three feet of unclaimed real estate available in the king-size bed. Chuckling at his own assumptions, he relinquished his hold on her and moved an arm’s length away. “Better?”
Betty blinked and a puzzled frown tugged at her mouth. Her thoroughly kissed lips opened, but no sound came out. A blush colored her cheeks as she peered over the edge of the bed. “Sorry. Maybe I should go home.”
He wet his lips, buying a moment to tamp down the howl of protest that rose inside him. “If you want to go, I’ll take you.”
“I think I’ve just gotten used to sleeping alone.”
“Me, too.” Nodding, he reached across no-man’s land to brush her hair back from her temple. “I hate it.”
A sad smile crept over her face. “Do you? I love it.”
The green-eyed monster snarled inside him. He wanted to yank her to him but managed to resist. Barely. Instead, he settled for running his fingers through her mussed hair. His doing. Every outdated, old-fashioned, borderline chauvinistic notion he’d ever entertained ganged up inside him and threatened to come roaring out. He clamped his mouth shut until the urge passed. He had her naked in his bed. How much would it take to keep her there? “You do?”
“I’m not interested in being tied down.”
The image of Betty strapped to his bed wearing nothing but a blush flashed in his mind, scorching a few synapses and downshifting his autonomic system for the span of a few sluggish
heartbeats. A hoarse laugh escaped him. “Bullshit. I saw you eyeing up my tie. You’d love it.”
His thoughts must have shown on his face because a slow, sultry smile stretched those sweet lips. Her eyebrows arched, making a mockery of the innocent light in her eyes. “Being tied up or tied down?”
Sighing, he sidestepped the quicksand but mentally added both options to his wish list. “Do you regret it?”
“Regret what? This?”
He thought about his best friend and the years Greg had wasted married to someone he didn’t love. Then he remembered the dopey look on Greg’s face when he got himself hitched to the woman he did. Will couldn’t help but wonder where Betty fell on that scale. There was certainly something about her late husband that haunted her. “Getting married.”
Surprise flared in her eyes. Her siren smile faded to a rueful shadow of its predecessor as she reeled in the bait. “Regret my marriage?”
He nodded.
“Yes and no.”
Heaving a sigh that outstripped his, she rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling as if the deeper answer were hidden somewhere in the cobwebby corners of his bedroom. The sheet slipped down, exposing the tops of her breasts and clinging to the very tips of her nipples. His palm itched. His fingers stretched and flexed. All the muscles in his arm tensed, prepared to carry out his brain’s order—up or down—whatever it might be.
“I don’t regret it.” The statement jerked him from his blatant ogling. A wry gleam lit her eyes. “Much.”
The crinkle of her nose tugged at him. He reached across the abyss to rest a comforting hand on her stomach. The much-abused bed sheet was nearly as soft and pliant as her skin, but not quite as warm.
“We had a nice house, a good business.” Tucking her hand under her cheek, she offered a lopsided smile. “Donald was the mayor, though there wasn’t much power in that job in a town as small as Percy. But there was respect.” Her voice softened to a wisp. “I was very respectable.”
The last bit startled him. “Was that important to you?”
“I thought it was.”