Suddenly Last Summer

by Sarah Morgan

  “That will keep Jackson and Kayla happy. How about you? Still having flashbacks?”

  She shuddered and put her fork down. “I do not allow myself to think about it.” That was one topic she wasn’t prepared to use for distraction purposes.

  She glanced across at him, ignoring the uneven thud of her heart.

  His shirt was open at the neck, showing just a hint of his throat, but all she needed was a hint. She was more than able to fill in the blanks.

  She noticed the woman at the table nearby sneak a glance in his direction and was torn between annoyance and sympathy. If you were female it would have been a waste not to look at Sean and to be fair to him the only person he’d looked at since entering the room was her. “He told me that you texted him. That was kind.”

  “He had a fright. I’m glad to hear it hasn’t put them off coming back. So is the Boathouse busy?”

  “Full every day, breakfast, lunch and dinner. Locals are using it for Sunday brunch. Jackson is pleased.”

  He paused. “I spoke to him last week. I told him about Dad.”

  “About the phone calls? I’m glad. You shouldn’t have had to carry that burden by yourself.”

  “Turned out I should have told him a lot sooner.” His mouth tightened. “I was wrong about a lot of things.”

  “About your father?” Élise put her glass down slowly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  He gave a tired smile. “We both know the person I should be talking to is Gramps. You were right about that. And pretty much everything else. I think he’s coming around a bit. For a moment last week I thought he was going to bring the subject up.”

  “He didn’t?”

  “No. Just told me he was proud of me.” A faint smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Which was unusual.”

  “I think seeing what you did for Sam made him realize how good you are at what you do. How medicine is the right thing for you.”

  “I don’t suppose that will stop him nagging me to get a job closer to home.”

  “No. And it won’t stop him nagging you to show up for family night.”

  Sean laughed. “Tyler calls it Fright Night.”

  They were talking, but every glance was filled with the promise of something more. The atmosphere snapped tight. Heat pulsed between them. It was almost impossible to conduct a conversation, but she was determined to try.

  “I think it’s a lovely tradition. Not so different from my mother taking me out to dinner once a month. It was a time for us. A time we talked about things without distraction. Your family night is the same thing except there are lots of you and it’s very noisy. You’re lucky. So when are you planning to talk to your grandfather?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “You’re staying the night at Snow Crystal.”

  “That’s the plan.” His gaze was focused on her. “Of course, my brother is sick of having me as a house guest so I might end up driving back to Boston unless I can find somewhere else to sleep.”

  Neither of them noticed as the waiter removed their plates.

  “Sean—”

  “I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to say you’ve never spent a whole night with a man, you don’t do that. But we already spent a whole night together, Élise. Last summer was the whole night. I’m just suggesting we do the same thing but without the butt-biting insects and the showers of rain.”

  She laughed, as he’d intended her to. “I loved the rain. The whole thing was magical. Special.” But she knew it hadn’t been the rain or the scent of summer clinging to the forest leaves that had made it special, it had been the chemistry. The connection between them.

  “I loved the rain, too.” The glint in his eyes suggested his memory of that night was as fresh as hers. “Let’s go.”

  He paid, and they walked from the restaurant to the car, shoulders brushing.

  “Thank you. I enjoyed myself tonight.”

  “So did I. Next time I’ll take you to Boston. We’ll go to the opera.”

  Next time? She felt as if she were on a runaway train with no brakes. “I’ve never been to the opera. My mother took me to the ballet once. It was incredible.”

  “You’ll love it. Tyler calls it caterwauling.”

  They drove home through darkness, along winding roads hugged by forests, through valleys and villages, past pretty churches and covered bridges.

  She was aware only of him. Of his hands on the wheel, of his strength, his control.

  Of her own feelings.

  She couldn’t stop thinking, looking, wanting to touch until she thought she’d go mad with it. She thought it was just her, but then he stopped at a set of lights, reached across and slid his fingers over hers and her heart stopped.

  Neither of them said anything and then she curled her hand into his, so aroused she could feel the delicious curl of anticipation unravel inside her.

  He stared straight ahead and then finally, for one brief moment, turned his head to look at her. He pressed her hand down onto her leg so the tips of his fingers brushed against her bare thigh.

  The look in his eyes robbed her of breath and by the time he turned into the road leading to the resort she was ready to throw herself from the moving car and head for the protective covering of the forest.

  He killed the engine and they came together like two wild creatures. His mouth collided with hers. She locked her hands in the front of his shirt. She felt the bite of his fingers in her hair, the erotic slide of his tongue against hers, the heat of his mouth and the sizzle of the blood in her veins. It was a heart-pounding, blood-pumping kiss and she slid her arms around his neck, trying to get closer.

  With an effort he dragged his mouth from hers, but only long enough to mutter the words “not here.”

  They disentangled from each other long enough to stumble out of the car, then he grabbed her hand and they ran along the narrow trail that led to the lake and Heron Lodge.

  Too far, she thought, and caught his shoulder with her hand.

  “Kiss me—”

  With a soft curse he slowed, lowered his mouth to hers and then groaned as she slid her arms around his neck. “Not here—not—” He clamped his arm around her waist, still kissing her, and she was scorched by the heat of it, drowned by the tide of sensation that threatened to knock her off her feet.

  Dizzy from the skill in his kiss, she tugged at his shirt, desperate to touch, to have her hands on his body. “I want you—”

  “Jesus, Élise—” He trapped her up against a tree, his hands on her hips, holding her against the hard throb of his erection as she dragged her hands over his shoulders. His muscles were rock-solid under her fingers and she closed her eyes as she felt the roughness of his jaw scrape the soft skin of her neck.

  “Now—please now—” she couldn’t wait any longer and she heard him stifle an oath and then sweep her into his arms. “Sean—”

  “Don’t say a word.” His teeth were gritted, his jaw clenched as he carried her the short distance to her lodge. “Just don’t say a word. And definitely don’t kiss me. I’m trying to walk.”

  “I want—”

  “Yeah, me, too.” He took the steps in two strides. “But this time I want to see what we can do with a bed and a locked door.”

  The air was still, the water quiet and serene, the forest sleeping in the warmth of the summer night. Barn swallows swooped with the ruffle and quiver of wings as Sean crossed the deck but tonight she wasn’t interested in her surroundings, only in the man.

  She trailed her mouth across his jaw and heard the breath hiss through his teeth. “Have I told you you’re sexy?”

  “Don’t tell me,” he said, as he shouldered the door open, “not yet. Hold that thought.”

  “You’re sexy—”

  “Holy shit—” He kicked the door shut and then gave up the fight and took her mouth. He was out of control and she was, too, and they stumbled toward the stairs, losing clothes, kissing, touching, greedy and desperate.r />
  She tore off his shirt. He stripped off her dress. Her bra hit the floor next and then the tiny scrap of matching silk that was all that was left of her clothing. And then they were both naked and he pushed her back onto the bed, his mouth on hers, his kiss hotly sexual and explicit.

  Moonlight streamed through the open windows, spotlighting naked limbs, powerful shoulders, the gleam of black hair, the glimmer of blue eyes.

  The heat they generated was ferocious, the need a ravenous beast inside her and she shifted her hips, wanting him so badly it drove everything she did.

  His hand slid between her legs, the intimate stroke of his fingers sending a dart of agonizing excitement through her body. His mouth moved lower, fastening on her breast, teasing, driving her wild until her moans turned into a sob and he slid lower and spread her legs. She felt naked, exposed and just for a moment something in her faltered, but he trapped her there, anchoring her hips with strong hands while he tortured her with his mouth and his tongue, each skilled flick driving her higher and higher.

  Finally, when she was right on the edge, almost blind with it, he shifted her under him and entered her with a single thrust that made her cry out. Hard, hot, powerful he surged into her and she dug her fingers into the sleek muscle of his shoulders, holding on, afraid to let go because she’d never experienced anything so out of control, so wild. And deep down a part of her knew this wasn’t just sex, that the connection was different this time, and briefly she struggled to regain her emotional balance, to find the level of control that had been her protection for almost a decade, but it was out of her grasp. The armor, the walls she constructed around herself for protection, came tumbling down, or maybe he smashed them down because the way he was looking at her, the way he held her gaze with each driving thrust, left her nowhere to hide. And she realized that this was exposed, not being naked, but sharing this moment of exquisite intimacy with this man.

  “Come for me—” he growled the words against her mouth “—don’t hold back. I want all of it. All of you.”

  “Sean—” she had no choice but to give him everything he demanded. She was lost, possessed, out of control and she felt sensation erupt and shower them both, dimly heard him groan as her body tightened around his and then she was tumbling, spinning, unable to stop herself, holding on to the strong shoulders, gasping his name against his lips as they crashed over the edge together.

  It took a while for either of them to move or speak.

  She was aware of the solid weight of him, of the strength of him as he held her, of the uneven rasp of his breathing as he struggled for control. And as for her—

  She lay stunned, staring up at the ceiling of her little bedroom, trying not to panic.

  What had happened?

  “Holy hell—” He dropped his head onto her shoulder and then eased away from her, rolling onto his back and dragging her with him. “I’m proud of us.”

  “Sorry?”

  “We made it to the bed. For us, that’s a major achievement.”

  Even in bed he made her smile. The panic faded. “The top of the bed. We didn’t manage to pull back the covers. I hope you didn’t drop bits of forest on my white bedcover. It’s very precious to me.” After the intensity of what they’d shared, it calmed her to keep the conversation light.

  He lifted himself onto his elbow and eyed the pretty bed piled with soft cushions. “Who the hell has a white bedcover?”

  “I do. It’s silk. It belonged to my mother.”

  “Fine—next time we’ll just stay in the forest. Anywhere. I’ll give up the pretense of being a modern, sophisticated man. With you I’m right back in the cave, ready to spear something for you to cook.”

  Laughing, flattered, she slid her hand over his jaw, feeling the rough scrape of stubble over her palm. “You’d ruin your shoes.”

  “Damn, I knew there’d be a catch.” He leaned forward and kissed her mouth. “For you it would be worth it. So are you going to come and live in my cave?”

  She knew he was joking but her heart beat a little faster. “Does your cave have silk sheets?”

  “Not yet, but it will once you move in.”

  “I’ll think about it. Or maybe we could just live in the forest. I love the forest.” She slid her hand to his shoulder, feeling pumped-up muscle and hard strength. He was more powerfully built than Pascal but she knew this man would never use his strength to hurt someone. That was a weakness and Sean was strong right to the core. “I liked being with you in the rain.”

  His eyes darkened. “Great. The one thing I can’t fix for you. Maybe I should go outside and do my rain dance. Or we could use the shower. Would that count?”

  “I like that idea. Shower and then sex on my silk sheets.”

  “Sorry? All I got from that was the word sex. After that I zoned out.” His hand slid into her hair. “The shower is a great idea in theory, but I’m six-two and I’m not sure there’s room in there for both of us. I built that shower, remember? Tyler grumbled nonstop for three days because he kept banging his head when he was tiling. The sloping roof was a bitch to work around.”

  “I think it’s charming. And I think it’s time to test its possibilities, don’t you?”

  “Yes. No. Christ, I don’t know— Don’t ask me to think. I can’t think while you’re lying there naked.” His mouth found hers, rough, seeking as he plundered her lips. “You taste like heaven. I could kiss you all night.”

  “I hope you will. It would be a shame to waste the time. You don’t come home often enough for that.”

  “I’m thinking of moving back.”

  Smiling, she slid out of bed and walked to the shower, knowing he was watching every movement.

  In two strides he was behind her, ducking into the shower, cursing about the size of the room.

  Although the space was small it was cleverly designed, a stylish wet room with Italian tiles and glass. The O’Neils had taste and the finish was perfect.

  The room always gave her pleasure, but tonight it gave her more than that. It gave her heat and possibilities. And Sean. Here, in this confined space, she was even more aware of the raw power of the man.

  Lifting her gaze to his, she saw desire burning in his eyes and knew he was seeing the same in hers.

  “Rainfall. But presumably not cold.” He adjusted the controls so that the water flowed at the right temperature. Every movement he made was purposeful and she felt her stomach squirm and her blood heat as he gave a wicked smile and reached for the soap. His hands were large and strong and he stroked every inch of her, leaving no part untouched until she was gasping and pliant under the fall of water, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

  He was as physical as she was. As passionate and unrestrained.

  Slow foreplay was never going to work for them. Once again the meeting of their mouths was more of a collision than a kiss, the stroke of his tongue hot and sensual, the nip of his teeth adding a ferocity she found deeply thrilling.

  She breathed in the scent of him, stroked her hands over hard muscle and glistening male flesh, listened to the harsh sound of his breathing. When he lifted her and fastened his mouth over her breast, she let her head fall back, lost in the excitement, the sensations, the pleasure that burst around her with each slow flick of his skilled tongue. She wrapped her legs around him, feeling the smoothness of him brush against her but he held her high, for once denying her what she wanted and needed.

  “No—” he growled the words against her throat “—not yet.”

  “Yes, now.” She drove her hands into his hair, brought her mouth down on his and moved her hips, but he was stronger and he held her tightly, trapping her movements against him so that she could do nothing to alleviate the growing ache in her pelvis.

  “I want you. Again and again—” He pressed her back against the wall, kissing her long and hard as he reached out and killed the flow of water. Without the rush of water the only sounds were the jagged rush of their breathing. “How do I stop f
eeling this? Tell me, because at this rate I’m not going to be able to go to work on Monday.” With those words he peeled away another layer of her protection but before she could try and snatch it back he grabbed a towel from the rail and wrapped her in it, still kissing her. His movements were rough and uncoordinated but that made it all the hotter. The fact that this normally sophisticated, controlled man was thoroughly out of control around her, escalated her own excitement to fever pitch and she told herself that self-protection could wait. That this was still just sex. Just sex.

  His hair gleamed dark with droplets of water and he picked her up and deposited her on the bed, naked and slightly damp.

  “Do your sheets mind a little water?” He didn’t stop kissing her, trailing his mouth and tongue down her body. The heat was intense. The chemistry so powerful her belly cramped with it. When he raised himself over her she grabbed his shoulders, dragging him down to her. She felt him, thick and hard against her and then he rolled onto his back and pulled her onto him so she straddled him.

  They were both so aroused there was no question of taking it slow or holding back. She dug her nails into the sleek, hard muscle of his shoulders and sank down onto him, taking him deep.

  “God, Élise.” He groaned deep in his throat, thrust his hands in her hair and drew her head down to his. She sank her teeth into his lower lip and he retaliated in kind, his eyes locked on hers as he drove into her. His eyes were dark with heat and raw desire, his jaw clenched in a face so handsome it almost hurt to look at him. But she did. She looked and so did he. There was no hiding, no pretending, just the same honesty with which their whole relationship had been conducted. She felt herself start to fall, felt her own spasms grip his straining shaft and heard his agonized groan as he lost his own struggle to hold on to control. Sensation swamped her, crashed over her in brutal waves and he smothered her cry with his mouth as he thrust deep and emptied himself.

  Recovery took a while.

  Drained, shattered, she lay on his chest, aware of the warmth of his hand against her back, the protective curve of his arm. As her heart rate slowly approached normality, she tried to move but he held her trapped and shifted slightly so that he could drag the duvet over them both.