Tilly sniffed a loud, shuddering sniff, and her answer came out in a shaky sob. “Yes.”
Dan smiled, the pressure of his mistake sliding off his back, and, for the first time in weeks, he felt free. “That wasn’t as forceful and joyous of a yes as I might have wanted, but you can’t take it back now.”
He looked at this beautiful, passionate and forgiving woman and knew what he wanted to do next. Actually, what he wanted to do next had never been a question; now he could actually do something about it.
Dan let one breath go in and out, thinking about what he had to say with a single-minded determination. “I want to kiss you, but if I kiss you now, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop until I make love to you.” He didn’t know what he would do if she turned him down. He wanted her with an intensity he’d never experienced before. “If you don’t trust me enough tonight, let me know. Before I get out of this chair to kiss you, I want to make sure you know where this is headed and you’re okay with it.”
Tilly nodded one more time and Dan was out of his chair before her head finished moving.
He wanted to touch her everywhere at once, to haul her out of her chair and press the length of his body against her while running his hands along her sides. For a week, he hadn’t been able to touch her and he wanted to make up for lost time in five seconds. Every muscle of his body tensed as he forced himself just to run his finger along her jaw before he leaned in to kiss her.
“God, Tilly, I want you,” he whispered against her lips. “As much as I want to sit on the desk and lift you on top of me now, I intend to do this right.” He looked at the dingy walls looming over the tiny, secondhand wooden desk and smiled. “As right as I can, not in a bed.” He felt her smile against his lips. “Slowly and carefully.”
The kiss began gently, lips against lips. Her lips melded perfectly to his mouth. Wanting, begging noises from the back of her throat inflamed his desire, but he concentrated on kissing this perfect woman. He only got to make love to her for the first time once, and Dan intended to make it last.
Tilly scooted forward in her office chair, her knees brushing past the insides of his intimately straddling thighs. She never broke their kiss as she inched closer to him and pulled his shirt out from his pants to rub her hands over his stomach. Calluses and scars nicked sensitive skin. Underneath the burning want was joy that Tilly was back in his life. The hands smoothing down his sides belonged to the woman he loved.
She pulled her hands away for a moment to unbutton his shirt. He shrugged, she pushed and when the shirt fell off his arms, he kicked it away with his foot.
They had to break apart when she pulled up his T-shirt, which quickly followed his dress shirt to the floor. Tilly took advantage of the break to shift even closer to him in the chair and press her lips against his stomach. Heaven, her every touch was heaven. Her hands traced up and down his back as she kissed and licked.
He bunched his hands in her hair, holding her tight against him as he looked down at the woman he loved. Every rough spot on her beautiful hands prickled his skin as they explored his body. Those strong hands. He loved Tilly’s hands. Her mind thought about her culinary heritage and she had extensive training, but her hands did the work. As she reached down into the waistband of his pants the rough calluses on her fingers tickled and when she grasped his butt he could feel the strength built from years of kneading dough.
Tilly crafted, made beautiful and delicious meals, with love and those hands. Those hands now caressing his body and those hands he hoped to have caressing his body for the rest of his life. Her hands weren’t decorative, they worked. Tilly wasn’t decorative. She had purpose.
Now the purpose was turned on him.
With a snap and a zip, his pants were undone and she slipped her hands into his waistband and down...
“I was trying to do this slowly and carefully,” he said, breathing hard at the intense pleasure of Tilly’s hands wrapped around him. He kept his tight hold on her head, his hands buried in her hair, afraid to move for fear he might explode.
She didn’t move her hands away. “Think of tonight as a tasting menu and we’re still having the predinner aperitif.”
Oh, God.
“Tilly.” He unwound her hair from his fingers, gently pulling her face so she looked up at him. Need stretched the skin of his face tight. “I want...I need to come inside you.”
He backed up from between her thighs and drew her out of the chair. Hands under her arms, he lifted her so she sat on the edge of the desk and unbuttoned her jacket, which fell in a pool around her. She hungered for him. Her clogs fell with clunks on the floor as she kicked them off her feet.
“Beautiful,” he said, running his hands across the tops of her camisole-covered breasts. He leaned over and kissed the slope of her breasts. She moaned, raising her breasts higher in offering. He didn’t hesitate. He lifted the hem of her camisole up and pulled it over her head, leaving her in her cotton bra. The appetizers were over. She was dinner, laid out for him to enjoy.
“I have been dreaming of you,” he said as he pushed the cup of her bra down. He caught her nipple in his lips and pulled gently. “Dreaming of this.”
Tilly whimpered as he bit her nipple lightly. She scooted forward, pushing herself as close to him as possible, as if she needed to feel as though nothing could come between them. He obliged, kneading her breasts gently as though they were a delicate pastry.
He lifted her slightly off the desk and she shucked her pants and underwear. She scooted to the edge of the desk, leaning back into Dan’s bracing arm. He supported her, would always support her. He wanted her to know that she could trust him to be there to lean on when she needed, and to let her stand on her own.
Her eyes were ablaze with desire and he suspected his were, too. They held nothing back from each other. Tonight, nothing existed between them but love.
“Condom,” Dan groaned as he fumbled around in his pants pocket. He had one, several, in here. He just had to find them.
“Shit,” Tilly said, struggling to sit up. “I don’t have any in here.”
Dan nudged her back against his bracing arm as he handed her the small package to open. “I’ve had some in my pocket since the Taste.” He tilted his head down, nibbling her ear as he talked. “I’ve always been an optimist.” He pulled her earlobe into his mouth and sucked, making her gasp and nearly lose her grip on the condom.
“Finally,” Tilly said when the packet ripped, pushing him away from her enough to nudge his pants down and sheathe him.
Dan had never seen anything more erotic than Tilly, sitting on the edge of her desk, her chef’s jacket in a puddle, naked except for her bra, as she rolled the condom over him. Her strong hands possessing and enjoying him, as he would soon possess and enjoy her.
He entered her, forcing himself to go slowly, savoring her softness as she enveloped him. His senses focused on the woman moving against him. Every small movement she made, every little wanting noise, claimed and sharpened his attention while the rest of the world fell behind in a mist. This woman, this moment, this place absorbed him completely.
Tilly was his fascination and his future.
She reached around to grasp his ass to pull him closer. Short, craving breaths came faster and faster as they moved in rhythm together. Tilly held him, moved against him, her head back baring her long neck, which he nibbled and licked. She was exposed, open to him, and Dan wouldn’t be able to move slowly much longer.
She wrapped her legs around him and arched high, offering her breasts up to his mouth. As he savored the taste of her, she cried out and he knew she was close. He could wait for her. He would be happy to wait for her.
She tightened her legs around him as she bucked, moaned, then relaxed against his arm.
Dan pulled Tilly up to press against him as he released into her. They stayed joined, their breathing synchronized, their chests rising and falling together. Dan wished he could stay with her, skin-to-skin, forever. This was rig
ht. She was right.
Reality set in. The condom would be no good if he didn’t remove it. Maybe someday he and Tilly would want to have children and he could enjoy her without this worry, but that day was in the future. Until then... He pulled out of her and disposed of the condom, then scooped Tilly off the desk and sat down in the chair, Tilly on his lap.
Her naked ass perched on him was enough to excite him again. “We should do this again. Soon, in a bed and...” He bent his head down to suck her nipple through her bra. “...fully naked the next time.”
“Your place or mine?” she asked, wiggling against him while smiling with satisfaction.
“Ours.” He looked Tilly in the eye as he said the words. “Maybe you’re not ready now, but I want to be the person you come home to late each night. When you’re high and jazzed up from a long day at work, I want to make slow, steady love to you until you’re ready to fall asleep.” He stroked the line of her jaw, almost unable to believe she—they—were actually here. “I want to be the person who tries your new dishes and the one to cook you breakfast in bed on Sunday.” She rested her head and closed her eyes as he spoke. “I want it all now. But I’ll take it whenever you say. I love you and I want to start our life together. Now. Tomorrow. Whenever you give me the okay. When you feel you can trust me.”
Tilly looked so peaceful with her eyes closed. She was nearly naked and sitting on his naked lap. They’d had heart-stopping sex in her office. These were all positive signs but still he was nervous. Dan had never wanted anything so much. Not just sex—though he had wanted that—but Tilly. All of Tilly. He wanted to be in her life.
Sex didn’t change the fact he’d used her poorly. He’d like to believe their lovemaking meant she wanted their relationship, too, but he didn’t want to take anything about Tilly for granted. If he had to fight more for her heart and her commitment, he would fight. If he had to do more to prove his devotion and faithfulness, he would. Whatever she asked of him. He was hers.
She opened her warm brown eyes, the eyes he hoped his children would have, and looked at him. Then she smiled. “And Imbir? What will Paulie do with Imbir around?”
Dan exhaled quickly in relief. “Paulie has a cage and a wheel. He will be fine. They can start a club of animals used against and then saved by Tila Milek. We can even start a website. What’s your middle name?”
“Marta. Martha, the patron saint of waitresses.”
Dan laughed. “Really?”
Tilly grinned and shrugged. “Really. Babunia said my mom got so fat with me while pregnant that I had to be a cook of some sort. Lawrence is the patron saint of cooks and there is no good Polish female version. Marta was close enough.”
“Our house will be the Tila Marta Milek-Meier animal rescue. We can even find that little dog and include him if you want.”
“I never want to see that dog again.”
“Fine. No dog.”
He wrapped his arms around her and she laid her head against his chest. They sat in silence for several minutes until he noticed her shiver. When he rubbed her arm he felt goose bumps.
“Tilly?”
She murmured sleepily in response.
“Let’s get you dressed and back to my house. You’ve had a long day.”
“Okay,” she said as she climbed off him and reached for her pants.
Dan helped her button her jacket and got her into her socks and clogs before dressing himself. While Tilly went to the bathroom to clean herself up, Dan dealt with the mess they’d made in her office, removing any evidence her staff might see. He also picked up the envelope with the promissory note and put it in her purse.
When Tilly came back, walking sleepily, Dan guided her through the kitchen to the back door. He set her down in the passenger seat of his Subaru and buckled her in. She was asleep before he started the car. He drove the few minutes back to his house through streets that were starting to empty of people. When he finally pulled up in front of his townhome and parked, he looked over at the woman snoring softly next to him. Quiet bursts of air puffed in and out of her mouth and Dan took a couple of minutes to listen to the music of the rest of his life.
* * *
TILLY WOKE UP ENOUGH to be aware when Dan picked her up out of his car and carried her into his house, but she didn’t open her eyes. Opening her eyes sounded too hard. No, eyes didn’t sound. They blinked. She stopped trying to think. Better to keep her eyes closed and fall back to sleep.
When awareness hit again, Tilly was in Dan’s bedroom, in only her panties and an oversize T-shirt.
I must be tired to have slept through Dan undressing me.
She rolled over onto her side to find Dan’s solid body next to her. When she pushed herself against him and laid her head on his chest, his arm encircled her. For the first time since she was a child, Tilly felt like home in a place that wasn’t a kitchen.
“I love you, Dan,” she murmured before giving in to sleep completely.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
One year later
TILLY WAS CURLED UP on the couch enjoying her day off, the newest issue of Lucky Peach and air-conditioning when the doorbell rang. She put the magazine on the coffee table and padded over to the front door. Through the windows she saw the postman with a box in his hands. Dan was coming down the stairs in pajama bottoms and no shirt as she signed the slip. She quickly thanked the postman and closed the door in time to enjoy the show.
“Hey,” he said, sliding his strong arms around her waist and bending his head down to give her a long kiss. “What’s that?”
“I don’t know.” She turned the medium-sized box over and looked at the label. “It’s addressed to me and I had to sign for it. Present from you?”
She turned away from him, but he pulled her close and kissed the side of her neck, sending tickling bursts down her spine and making her smile, before releasing her so she could go to the kitchen. The intimacy of living with someone was maddeningly wonderful. Or wonderfully maddening, she wasn’t sure which. Just when she thought they’d established a rhythm to their lives, the postman would deliver a surprise.
She set the box on the counter and pulled out a utility knife. Wrapped in tissue were two White Sox jerseys and an envelope.
“He’s such an ass,” Dan said, laughing.
“What? What is this?”
He pulled one of the jerseys out of the box and checked the tag. “This one’s for you,” he said as he handed her the jersey. “And this,” he pulled the other jersey out of the box, “is for me.”
“You’re a Cubs fan,” she said, looking at him with her brows furrowed. “Who would send us his-and-hers Sox jerseys?”
Dan glanced up from the jersey he was holding and laughed even harder.
“Why are you laughing? Shouldn’t you be pissed off?”
Dan handed her the envelope that had come in the box. “Open this. I think it will answer your questions.”
She took the envelope, still eyeing him suspiciously, and opened it. Packed inside were two tickets to the Crosstown Classic and a note.
Enjoy the game. Ask Dan to explain. He deserves it. Go Sox—Mike.
Tilly read the note to Dan, who chuckled wryly as he cursed his friend. “He really is a rat bastard.”
“Are you going to explain?”
Dan looked uncomfortable and was silent long enough for Tilly to think he was going to ignore the note and her question entirely. Finally he relaxed his scrunched-up face and started talking.
“After the first review of Babka was posted, Mike gave both Rich and me shit for it.”
Tilly nodded. She might have forgiven him, but she was still happy to know his friends had harassed him for it, too.
“I deserved the shit and he dished it out. We made this bet about whether or not the review would boomerang back to me and bite me in the ass. If I won, Mike would have to go to a Cubs/Cardinals game and sit in the bleachers wearing a Cards uniform. If he won, I would have to go to a Crosstown Classic game dressed
up as a White Sox fan. I always honor my bets, but I was hoping he’d forgotten about this one.”
Tilly cocked her head and stared at the love of her life until he flinched. “This—” she gestured to the townhome they now shared, complete with Imbir’s water dish on the kitchen floor “—is the review coming back to bite you in the ass?”
A cell phone bounced and vibrated on the counter. Tilly picked up her phone and looked at the screen. Give him hell, Tilly. Part of the bet was that he cheer for the Sox. Make sure he cheers.
She peered back up at Dan, who squirmed under her scrutiny. Talking about the review always made him uncomfortable. She’d forgiven him—was even grateful to the fates because she wouldn’t have met him otherwise—but he was still sensitive about the part he’d played in one of the worst episodes of her life.
That he was the best part of her life was something he wasn’t entirely used to.
She had to chomp down on the insides of her cheeks to keep from laughing. He looked like a little boy waiting to be yelled at by his mother. She felt sorry for him and part of her said she should end his guilt-ridden squirming.
But not yet. Dan’s easy smile and ready charm meant he didn’t often have to flounder around in nervous ignorance and what was a girlfriend, if not the one person on whom the easy charm didn’t work so well.
She waited until he came up with an answer.
Dan eyed her up and down with a grin. “I don’t think you’ve bitten me on the ass yet, but we could fix that oversight.”
She folded her arms across her chest and waited.
He sighed. “Mike wins the bet. Not because anything I share with you constitutes a ‘bite on the ass,’ but because I expected my life to continue on as it had been before the review. And nothing about my life is the same. Everything is a thousand times better. While Mike didn’t win the letter of the bet, he sure won the spirit of it.”
Reservations for Two Page 26