by Anne Oliver
She froze. They’d never used a condom—she’d been on the Pill to regulate her cycle. What if he made her pregnant again? Ben had used a condom and Carissa had been caught—it wasn’t fail-safe. Could she go through that alone again? The answer was no.
He must have seen the doubts in her eyes, felt her pulling away. He smoothed a hand over her cheek. ‘It’s okay, Mel. Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.’ His hand slid around to gently squeeze her neck. ‘I need you tonight. I’ve wanted to do this to you since that first day in your bedroom.’
And then they were both naked and skin to skin and pregnancy was only a distant warning in a far corner of her mind. She needed this, needed him, more than she’d realised. And he needed her.
That flood of need engulfed them both, sweeping them along in a torrent of dark heat and battering sensations. When he plunged deep inside her she arched up to meet him. Renewed desire geysered up, almost drowning her in a tide of love.
No! Some distant corner of her brain registered that emotion and instantly discarded it. It had never been about love. It had been about lust, needs, wants.
Luke must have felt her flutter of denial because he slowed his pace momentarily to reach up and smooth her damp hair from her brow. ‘Stay with me.’
‘I’m right here.’
Keeping her eyes focused on his, she matched him, stroke for stroke, faster, faster, until reason vanished and thought was impossible and there was only the primal drive to completion. Mind dim, she gasped at the glory of her release as he emptied himself inside her.
* * *
Hours later Melanie woke slowly to the unfamiliar warmth of another body beside her, Luke’s slow, even breathing ruffling the hair at her temples. She opened her eyes to watch him sleep. Relaxed, like a god satisfied he’d performed his divine duties.
Her body echoed that sentiment in a dozen different ways as she stretched muscles that hadn’t been used in a long time on his luxurious satin sheets. Hmm. A dozen different ways. Not quite, she thought with a sated smile, but they’d get round to it.
Last night they’d snacked on whatever they could find in the fridge, then come to bed and made hot and furious love again. In the early hours of the morning Luke had woken her and they’d had slow, sleepy sex, drifting back to sleep still joined.
And she was feeling entirely too good to think about why this might be a mistake, to consider the consequences of a relationship with Luke. No. Not a relationship. This was about sex—great sex—the best ever, but anything else—
‘Good morning.’
She turned at his gravelly voice and found him watching her through barely raised eyelids. ‘Yes.’ Her fingers crept up to his chest to toy with a pebbly male nipple and she saw his eyes widen. Darken. ‘It is. A very good morning.’ Cocooned beneath his quilt, surrounded by the scent of last night’s passion.
‘Mmm.’ He covered her fingers with his, guided them over his chest in lazy circles. ‘Do I get a kiss?’
‘Depends—’ she wiggled closer, slid her leg over the hard, hairy length of his, noting another hard length nudging her thigh ‘—on what you’re offering for breakfast.’
‘What did you have in mind?’
She could tell by the sultry look he cast her that he was offering himself as part of the menu and pressed an open-mouthed kiss on his sleep-dry lips. ‘Nuh uh.’ Another kiss in the warm, musky hollow of his neck. ‘I need sustenance before we go another round. Coffee—freshly percolated, strawberries…and hot sticky buns.’
He blinked. ‘How about two out of three?’
‘Hmm.’ She trailed her lips over his shoulder, nibbled an earlobe. ‘I’ll make you a deal. I’ll put on the coffee and prepare the strawberries if you’ll go get the buns. I saw a mini-supermarket yesterday not far from here with a Sweet Delights bakery.’
A pained expression crossed his face. ‘You sure you want to eat first?’
‘Oh, yeah.’ How far was Luke willing to go for her? Buying a car was simple for him. Dragging himself away from a warm bed and a naked woman and into a windy winter’s morning to fetch sweet treats—
‘Is this some kind of test?’
For answer she arched across him, rubbing her sex-slippery flesh along the ridge of hard hip-bone, turning herself on in the process. ‘Call it a bribe.’
‘Some would say that’s illegal.’ Quick as a whip for someone who’d just woken up, his hand shot down between her legs. ‘You still want sticky buns first?’ He dipped a finger into her centre, plunged deep, then withdrew, dragging it over her swollen centre.
‘Yes…’ The word exhaled on a sigh and sounded damn unconvincing.
Two fingers. Three. Plunge then withdraw, oh-so-slowly, making lazy circles and creating a warm, wet friction that promised faithfully to take her to paradise—
‘Sugar-cinnamon or icing?’
Her thighs fell apart and she arched into his hand. ‘Su…gar— Oh…you…don’t…play…fair.’
‘Okay. I admit it, that was unfair.’ He took his hand away and threw back the quilt. A wash of cool air doused her exquisitely aroused body, peppering it with goose-bumps.
He was grinning, the cad, as he bent to tug a nipple between his teeth. It was only a marginal satisfaction to see that he was as aroused as she.
‘I think I’ll walk,’ he said with a smirk, reaching for his jeans. ‘Get some exercise.’
‘Coffee’ll be cold if you do.’ She tugged the quilt back under her chin and glared at him. ‘And so will I. Careful with that zipper.’ She winced as he dragged it up. Tight fit.
He grinned again as he took a T-shirt from a drawer. ‘Very well, you win. Okay if I take your car? It’s right out front.’
She nodded. ‘Keys are in my bag on the table.’
‘Right. See you soon.’
‘Very soon.’
When she heard the front door close she sat up, swung her legs over the bed. Took three deep breaths and ordered herself to put her arousal on temporary hold. Make coffee.
She’d left her clothes where she’d stripped them in the dining room—rather, where Luke had stripped them—so she inspected Luke’s wardrobe and found a thick flannel shirt to put on.
The floor was warm as she made her way to the kitchen, the apartment cosy. She found coffee beans and switched the percolator on, then began stacking plates into the new dishwasher.
Luke arrived back as the coffee finished percolating. He set an aromatic box of buns on the table and pocketed his mobile phone. She reached for mugs, turned and began pouring. ‘Just in time.’
‘For what?’ he said, his voice layered with meaning. He came up behind her, and slid his hands over the front of the shirt, rubbing her nipples into tight peaks on the way down. ‘Mmm. You smell good.’
‘I’m wearing your shirt,’ she pointed out.
‘Hmm. I smell good, then.’
He rucked up the shirt from behind and she gyrated her bare bottom against his denim-covered erection. The sensation of bare ass and denim was a stunning turn-on she hadn’t expected. She tossed him a sexy glance over her shoulder. ‘Sticky buns later?’
He didn’t reply as she’d expected. ‘I just listened to my messages.’ He tightened his arms around her, locking his hands over her navel and nestling his chin on her shoulder. ‘Mum and Dad got back last night. They wanted to know why my phone was switched off.’
Melanie’s hands tightened on the coffee-pot, but she kept her voice light. ‘What did you tell them?’
‘That I was tied up with a naked woman all night and she wouldn’t let me use the phone.’ He gave her a light-hearted peck on the cheek. ‘I’m meeting them for brunch in an hour.’
She stirred sugar into Luke’s coffee, concentrating on hiding a disappointment she had no right to feel, then stepped away to set the mugs on the table. They hadn’t seen their son in a long time; who was she to resent it? She didn’t resent it. Much. ‘So, I guess you’re kicking me out, then?’
‘No. No,’ he said
again, as if considering his words. ‘It’s just that they’ll probably want to come over at some point and see the apartment…’
‘And you don’t want me here.’ Nor did she want to be here. She smiled, but it felt as brittle as glass. ‘That’s fine, Luke. I don’t particularly want to be caught bare-assed by your parents.’
‘Hey.’ He followed her to the table, finger-combed her hair from her face. ‘I’m sorry it’s this morning, of all mornings.’
Melanie was too. They could have been snuggled up in bed, feasting on hot and sticky and it wouldn’t have been only the buns. Which only made her hyper-aware of Luke’s scent on her skin, the slight rasping soreness between her legs from their night together.
But it was morning. Their night was over. ‘It’s okay, I need some down-time and I wanted to catch up on some sleep and some washing anyway. You need to see your parents, Luke. I understand. Really,’ she assured him, seeing the doubts in his eyes.
‘Stay for coffee and cake first,’ he said, his hands still in her hair.
‘Thanks, but no, thanks.’ The sweet smell of cinnamon didn’t sit at all well with the lead balloon in her stomach.
‘After all the trouble I went to?’ He tugged on a hank of hair, again with that light-hearted manner.
Obviously he didn’t even consider introducing her to his family. Nor did she want to come face-to-face with his father after what he’d done.
‘I’m sure you’ll want to tidy the apartment before you go—’ make the bed, air the room, dispose of the condom packet: make that packets ‘—so I’ll just be on my way as soon as I’m dressed.’
Face it, Melanie. This was what having a no-strings, sexual relationship was all about:
You don’t get involved with your partner’s family.
Your partner’s family always comes before you.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE moment his parents were out the door Luke snatched up his phone and punched in Mel’s number. A quick call to let her know he’d been thinking of her.
He’d spent most of the day catching up. He’d met them at their home, taken them out for a light meal, shown them over his new apartment. Talked business, kept any thoughts of the business opportunity he’d been offered to himself.
But he hadn’t been able to get Melanie and what they’d shared last night out of his mind. Hadn’t been able to rid himself of the image of the warm and willing woman in his bed this morning and the sweet promise of more. The cool woman a scant hour later as she’d walked down the steps and driven away.
‘Come on,’ he muttered and had to force himself to unclench his teeth. She was disappointed they hadn’t finished what they’d started, that was all. And she wasn’t the only one.
Finally. But it was her answering machine that picked up. Something unfamiliar and strangely deep knifed through him at hearing the simple sound of her voice on the line. He wished he could see her. Smell her, touch her, tell her… what? ‘It’s Luke, Melanie. I hope you’ll be awake when I get there—I’m coming over,’ he said, and disconnected.
Damn. He ran both hands through his hair and stared through the window. What was happening to him? One night of hot sex and… He shook his head. Sex. That was all it was. Wasn’t it? Sex with a woman who’d been in his blood for five years.
A short time later he leaned on the doorbell with one hand, a bunch of wind-tossed irises and daffodils in the other.
The two-tone chime echoed inside but no sounds of movement were forthcoming. Adam wasn’t home—he’d already checked the car park—but Melanie’s new car was parked in her parking space.
‘I know you’re in there, Melanie.’ He raised his voice. ‘Open up or I’ll be forced to use the key Adam gave me.’ A lie, but it had the desired effect. He heard a door shut, saw a blur of colour through the frosted-glass panel.
The door opened a fraction. He took in the pale skin and dark circles beneath her eyes—a lack of sleep? Or was there something more hiding behind that carefully neutral expression?
‘Can I come in?’ When she inched open the door further he stepped inside and closed it quietly.
‘Adam didn’t give you a key.’ Her crossed arms drew attention to her pushed-up breasts. Red flannelette barely covered her bottom, giving him a view of long, shapely legs. Legs that had been wrapped tight around him last night. His body still burned with the memory.
‘Adam doesn’t give any of his guy friends a key without discussing it with me first,’ she said. ‘It’s a rule we have.’
Luke nodded, holding out the bouquet and searching her eyes. ‘Very wise. I’m sorry about this morning.’
‘I understand.’
No, she didn’t, because she took the flowers avoiding his fingers, avoiding eye contact.
‘They’re beautiful. Thanks. I guess you’ve been busy,’ she said as he followed her to the kitchen while she hunted up a vase.
‘Yeah.’ He’d rather have been exploring her hidden and not-so-hidden places all over again. No, that wasn’t quite true, he admitted to himself. He’d also wanted to know why she’d gone so cool. He wanted to understand her.
She gave him an almost-smile, but it didn’t reach those eyes, which still didn’t quite meet his. ‘I guess it could have been worse. They might have turned up at the apartment without ringing first.’ Amazing how that tiny lift at the corners of her mouth could transform her whole face. Like the sun coming out from behind storm clouds.
Also amazing, he thought as he watched her wrench on the tap and fill the vase with water, how quickly the sun could disappear. He was suddenly desperate for even a glimpse of that brilliance once more.
‘Sorry.’ She nodded at laundry strewn over every available surface. ‘The clothes dryer’s broken. The living room’s a bit of a jumble sale at the moment.’ He hadn’t noticed the room smelled of soap powder and take-away until she pointed it out; he’d been too preoccupied with the scent of her freshly soaped skin.
She cleared a space on the coffee-table and set the vase down, rotated it. ‘I’ve been meaning to get the darn thing repaired, but—’
‘Forget the washing. And the flowers.’ He slid his hands around her waist and pulled her close, breathing her in, enjoying the way she felt against him. ‘I want to talk to you.’
‘I don’t want to talk.’
He smiled at her muffled words against his chest and kissed the top of her head. ‘Neither do I.’
‘I want to sleep. We didn’t get much last night.’
‘I thought that’s what you were doing?’
‘No. I’ve been running errands, doing washing.’
‘Well, we can go to bed now, if you want.’
‘Alone, Luke.’
His buoyancy deflated, but all wasn’t lost, she wanted him—he could tell by the way her nipples pressed against him, the way her hips angled against him as her legs pressed against his. ‘I’ll go. In a little while.’
The knowledge that she was naked beneath that red sleep shirt had his blood rushing to his groin. He couldn’t resist smoothing a hand over the tempting swell of her breast. Coaxing a nipple into a hard little peak.
‘Stop…’ But she moaned and arched her breast into his hand.
‘You don’t want me to stop.’ He dipped his head to suck at her nipple through the flannel. Let his hand roam over tempting curves and valleys and down, until he found the hem of her shirt. ‘I don’t want to stop either.’ He walked her backwards until her thighs bumped the couch.
She stroked a hand down his chest and over his belt buckle. Drawing a thin line with one exquisitely potent fingernail over the straining zipper in his jeans. ‘It always comes down to sex with us, doesn’t it?’
Something tingled through his veins. He stared at her for a few unsteady heartbeats, trying to gauge her mood. He thought he saw something flicker in her eyes, cool and flint-hard beneath the warm glow of arousal.
He covered the hand poised over his zipper and flattened it against him, feeling the heat of
her palm burn through his jeans. So tempting to unzip and let those expert fingers take care of his need. But suddenly taking care of physical need wasn’t his priority right now. He wanted to know more about the deeper emotions he’d witnessed. Reluctantly he removed her hand. ‘Mel…’
‘Luke…’
They both spoke at the same time.
‘You first,’ he said.
The serious tone, the hesitant way she said his name, had him bracing himself. She pressed a hand to her belly as if in pain and he could’ve sworn she was going to say something, but she let out a sigh that seemed to come from the depths of her soul and closed her eyes. ‘It’s nothing. You were going to say…?’
She was closing him out and he didn’t like the feeling. ‘Remember last night?’ he said. ‘When I touched you all over, with my hands—’ he let a finger caress the side of her cheek ‘—my lips’ kissing her springtime-smelling hair ‘—my tongue…’ He swept the hair aside to nuzzle the soft skin between shoulder and neck and laved a slow path to her earlobe. ‘I lost myself inside you and you lost yourself with me.’
And that was what he’d missed with the other women he’d slept with. The way she gave herself to him, honestly and openly and without inhibition. It was more than sex.
It was…more.
The sudden revelation detonated inside him, deep in his core and radiated out to the tips of his fingers.
‘I haven’t forgotten.’ She turned her head a little, baring more of her neck and giving him greater access. ‘You’re my rose-cream-smothered-in-dark-chocolate man.’
He couldn’t say why that description disappointed him. It had all the right ingredients, but the word ‘man’ sounded suspiciously temporary. As if he was good until hard-caramel man came along.
Temporary. That suited him fine, right? For someone who’d lived and loved ‘temporary’ all his life? And she’d been the one who’d said their relationship was never going to be permanent.