Dani rested her arms on the table and leaned forward. “This time is different, though. You know up front that he’ll be leaving. There won’t be any surprises, no broken commitments.”
Could she do this? Didn’t a lot of woman do this same thing all the time? And Dani was right, it would be different with John. Greg had promised her a lifetime; there would be no promises from John. Restless and edgy all week, Rachel had to admit her body strongly urged her to give in. The past few days had been spent sneaking kisses and touching every chance they had, and when the boys were in bed for the night, they had taken the opportunity to get a little more serious.
They’d be alone Saturday night. Maybe that’s when he would make love to her. All she had to do was make it to Saturday…and then not chicken out.
…
Rachel parked in her garage, glad to be home. Surprised no boys ran across the yard to welcome her, she made her way across the grass, up the deck, and through the back door. Instead of hearing cartoons, the sweet strains of her favorite love songs greeted her. No one was in the kitchen, but ingredients were piled up on the counter and various pots and pans had been laid out. The smell of bread baking made her stomach growl.
It was way too quiet for a Thursday evening. As she proceeded through the kitchen en route to the dining room, she spotted two wineglasses sitting on the counter. Her pulse skyrocketed as her brain cataloged the details. No kids. Sexy music. Mouthwatering aroma. Wineglasses. She clutched her purse to her chest as she peeked around the corner of the dining room and gasped as she collided with John.
“Hey, didn’t hear you come in.” He gripped her upper arms and bent his head, placing his mouth near her ear, his warm breath causing a shiver to roll down her spine. “Welcome home, Einstein.” He pulled her close, and before she could open her mouth to respond, he became busy with her lips in more important ways. As he weaved his fingers into her hair and deepened the kiss, her purse slipped to the floor, and she slid her arms around his waist. He pulled back slightly, his hands drifting down her back.
“Wow, if I would’ve known I’d be greeted like that, I’d have been here earlier,” she said, resting her cheek against his chest, enjoying the sound of his rapidly beating heart.
“Timing was perfect.”
Her mind painted a vivid picture of what this night was about as she took in the dining room. In the center of the table, unlit candles flanked a fresh bouquet of flowers. Two settings of her special white china sat atop a cream-colored linen tablecloth. Dimmed lights cast the room in a sensual glow.
He took her hand and guided her back into the kitchen.
“What have I done to deserve such a welcome home?” She smiled up at his handsome face. He placed his big hands on her waist, and her body reveled in the delicious heat that penetrated her clothing.
“You’re entitled to a little pampering.” He backed her up against the cupboard, then lifted her onto the counter. His hands stayed at her waist as he pressed his lips to her temple. He trailed his mouth to her cheek. “You’re sweet and lovely, and so damn sexy. I wanted to give you a special night. Give us a special night.”
Huge, warm hands caressed the nape of her neck. “The boys?” Reduced to fragmented speech, she didn’t want to waste the energy on needless words.
“Mom’s. All night.” Complete sentences must be difficult for him, too.
“John?” With the way he was nibbling on her ear, it was darn nearly impossible to concentrate.
“Hmmm?”
He left the scent of aftershave on her skin as his lips traveled south. She tilted her head to one side, giving him better access to consume her neck. “You seducing me?”
“Big-time.” She felt his smile on her skin. “That okay?”
She nodded. “Oh yeah.” She shivered as his hands made their way to her shoulders, slid down her arms, and removed her jacket. He tossed it toward a chair, but the jacket slipped to the floor.
He slid his hands over her hips, down her legs, and she leaned into his touch. He dropped to his knees and removed her shoes, dropping them on the tile floor with a clunk. “Want to know what I have in mind?” he asked in a raspy whisper.
She did, oh God, she did, but could she survive hearing him put it into words? Her heart was already trying to beat right out of her chest. Would she lose complete control? Could a person die from being too turned on?
His hands crept up her legs, gliding along her stockings until he reached the hem of her skirt. Grasping the lacy band hugging her thigh, he slowly, leisurely stripped off one stocking, then the other, letting his fingers trail sensuously along the back of her knee and over her smooth calves as he peeled away the silky fabric. He mumbled an erotic approval as his hands came to rest on her thighs, his thumbs stroking the bare inner flesh at the edge of her hose.
“These babies,” he growled out, “have kept me awake nights. Ever since I saw you peel them off, I’ve wanted to have a turn.”
“You saw me?” Her heart thundered in her chest.
“Uh-huh. That night I came to check on you, I stood in your doorway. I didn’t mean to watch, but once you started undressing, I couldn’t leave.”
If any other man had admitted that he’d watched her undress, she would think it creepy. But knowing that John had seen her? Total turn-on. Mesmerized, she followed his movements as he lowered his head, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, placing little nips along the bare flesh of the stocking line. His mouth was warm and wet, and the fresh stubble of his whiskers scuffed across her skin. Releasing a small cry of pleasure, she curled her fingers around the edge of the counter, sure that any minute she would slide off.
Fighting to drag air into her lungs, she leaned her head back against the cupboard. When he stood, she raised her gaze to focus on him and released a shaky breath.
“You never answered me,” he said with a lazy, seductive smile.
She hesitated a long moment, then admitted, “I can’t remember the question.” She managed a little laugh.
They shared a smile. “Do you want to know what I have in mind? About tonight,” he whispered roughly.
She merely nodded.
“A celebration…” His eyes gleamed with pure mischief. She flushed, but remained silent. “Of the senses.”
She gulped. “Oh,” she whispered before taking a much-needed breath.
“I know our first night together wasn’t the greatest,” he admitted, bowing his head as if in shame. “You deserved the perfect night. I’d like to make it up to you.”
She leaned toward him, resting her forehead against his chest. “That night was the best night of my life. It was perfect, because I was with you.”
He bent his head and placed his mouth against her ear, his breath hot, his voice a rugged whisper. “I’m hoping that by the end of the evening—or I guess I should say morning—you’ll think that night paled in comparison.”
The smile idled on her face as the implication of his words sank in. She looked up at him. “Tell me.” Her curiosity won while she tried to ignore the heat spreading through her body.
“It’s all about awareness.” He traced her jaw with his finger, then slid it down her neck. “Responding, absorbing the sensations around us.” His finger coasted down her arm, streaking a path of heat. “The connection between the food…” He picked up her hand, then turned it to expose her wrist. “And us.”
She released a slow sigh as his warm lips touched the sensitive flesh of her wrist before moving higher. Goose bumps made their way across her body, and she shivered. Who would have thought that a kiss on the inside of her arm could feel so heavenly? On its own, her opposite arm rose in a silent plea for the same incredible attention.
He repeated the action on her other arm. A moan slipped out of her mouth, and once again, she relaxed her head against the cupboard. The blood pulsed through her veins at an alarming rate, and she couldn’t quite catch a full breath.
“For the sense of smell, we have the
aroma of our dinner, the fragrance of the flowers, and the candles.” He lifted his head and moved his lips to her throat, once again devouring her neck. “You know, Einstein, that we each have our own scent that intensifies as we become aroused.” With one finger, he pulled aside the collar of her shirt, adorning the newly revealed skin with wet kisses. “Our scents will mesh together when we make love to create something unique only to us.”
Her goose bumps remained as he switched his attention to the other side of her neck. “For sight, there’s the atmosphere of the dining room, looking at each other across the table during dinner and knowing that tonight we’ll be lovers again.” He released the top button of her shirt and continued his kisses. “I want to see every inch of you, want to watch as your beautiful body responds to me.”
Another button came free, and she whimpered. Bits and pieces of his words swirled in her head, and she couldn’t disguise her disappointment as she asked in a scratchy voice, “Dinner? We’re having dinner first?”
“Uh-huh,” he said as he trailed a finger between the edges of her shirt. “I think we’ll need the sustenance.”
She released an impatient sigh. Glancing up at him, she asked hopefully, “What about dessert? Can we skip that?”
A wicked grin greeted her. “Baby, you are dessert,” he said, his voice a hoarse growl.
His big hands parted her shirt; the warmth of his fingers grazed her skin. He placed openmouthed kisses on the swell of her breasts that spilled out of her white satin bra. “I’d hoped dinner would satisfy our sense of taste, but now I’m not so sure. You taste incredible.” His big, warm hands palmed her breasts. She released a breathy sigh as she burrowed her fingers in his hair. He lowered his hands to her waist as he raised his head, playfulness evident in his eyes, in his sweet smile.
She drew her hands down, letting them rest on his forearms. The sleeves of his white cotton shirt were rolled up to expose soft chestnut hair. Fascinated, she watched as her fingers played along the soft skin of his muscular arms. Heat emanated from his body to seep into hers. “That’s it,” he coaxed. “Touch me.” Her jittery hands traveled to his massive chest, and she placed them on his cool, crisp shirt. His heart pounded underneath her palm; his chest strained against the small buttons. Up until now, she had allowed herself to look but not touch. The anticipated thrill of exploring was too great, and she found herself enthralled as she freed the buttons on his shirt to bare his broad chest. She smoothed her hands over hard, sculpted muscles and the dusting of dark hair. She leaned in and nuzzled close. She kissed him, inhaled the clean smell of his white cotton shirt, the woodsy scent of his aftershave, and sighed with pleasure to be this close to him again.
She withdrew and glanced up. “I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time,” she admitted.
He whispered roughly, “That’s what tonight is about. Experiencing all the things we’ve dreamed about over the years.”
Chapter Fourteen
Blue eyes sparked with desire gleamed back at her. He smiled, staring at her, his eyes intent. Her gaze roamed his face, reminding herself of all the places she had yet to explore, to experience.
“I guess we’ve moved on to the sense of touch,” he said. He swallowed hard, his neck vein pulsing with the rapid beat of his heart. He moved his hands down her sides to let them rest on her bare thighs. “While I finish making dinner, you can take a nice warm bath, enjoy the water, let it massage your body and relax you.”
Prolong their lovemaking, first with a bath and then with dinner? She wanted to weep. She opened her mouth to argue, but before any words formed, he continued. “The sense of touch may be my favorite,” he said, his voice lower, sexier. “I want to touch every part of you. Every naked inch.” His thumbs stroked the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. Her legs quivered. “I’m going to use my mouth and my hands to explore.”
She closed her eyes, unable to focus any longer. She grasped his arms in an attempt to keep upright; her body pulsed, tightened. Never in her life had she been so aroused, and she was desperate for release. “I don’t think I can wait,” she cried, not caring that she sounded like a child at the fair having to wait her turn for the pony ride.
“There’s one more sense,” he said as he moved his hands to cradle her face.
She groaned and slowly shook her head. “No, it’s too much.”
He chuckled. “But it’s a good one, sweetheart.” His mouth traveled to her ear, where his warm breath caressed her flesh. “Listen to the music. Slow, sexy love songs. Filled with yearning and desire. Passion.” His hands traveled down her body, causing her to push into him. “But even better than the music will be the sounds you make when I’m moving inside you.”
She’d had enough. Her senses were on overload. Did she really have only five of them? She wrapped her arms around his neck, placed him firmly between her legs, and pulled him in for a kiss. He planted his hands on her backside, lifted her off the counter, and hauled her into his arms. Like she’d done it a hundred times, she wrapped her legs around his waist and locked her ankles together behind his back. She gasped as the sensitive skin of her bare inner thighs gently scraped across his worn denim jeans, and relished in the raw groan that tore itself from his throat.
His hands continued to travel—her back, her hips, her breasts. He left the kitchen, clutching her body to his as he walked toward her bedroom. She squirmed in anticipation. Finally! No bath. No dinner. Straight to bed.
Halfway down the hall, he paused, positioning her until her back pressed against the wall, then continued to explore her mouth. Pressing her into the wall, his hands journeyed up the back of her thighs, stopping to cup her bottom. His tongue continued a rhythmic in-and-out motion with her mouth as his jean-clad hips caught the tempo and pushed into her with matching intensity. Dizzy with desire, she could only hold on to him and let her body take over, rocking against him with each thrust of his hips.
He withdrew his mouth from hers and rested his head in the crook of her neck, his breath warm and frantic against her sensitized skin, and she shivered as goose bumps claimed her flesh.
Straightening his stance, he pushed them away from the wall and continued the journey to her room. “If I don’t keep moving toward the bathroom, I’m afraid we’ll never make it past the hallway.”
While she wondered why that was a bad idea, he entered her room, walked straight through to the bathroom, and placed her on the cool marble counter. The lights were off, but two candles were lit. The scent of vanilla wafted through the air; the tub was laden with bubbles. Apparently, the bath thing was still in the plans.
“I just ran the water, so it should be the perfect temperature.”
With a smile, she looked up at him, thrilled that she had the ability to make him breathless, out of control. “Are you joining me?” she asked, giving a shy nod toward the tub.
“Hopefully another time,” he said, kissing her temple. “Right now, I’ve got to finish dinner.” He laughed when she moaned her complaint. “Just take your time and relax.” With a kiss to her cheek, he turned and left, closing the door behind him.
She leaned against the wall of the vanity and let her head fall to one side. A glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror made her smile. Her hair hung in wild waves, no longer styled, teased in a just-got-out-of-bed appearance. Her complexion was flushed, her lipstick long gone. An unfamiliar brightness shone in her eyes.
She winked at her disheveled reflection.
…
Good God. John sat on the edge of Rachel’s bed, blew out a long, hot breath, and stared at the closed bathroom door. Where had he learned such willpower? Walking away from her just now had been more than any guy should ever have to endure, but he wanted this night to be special. He went back to the kitchen with the hope that cooking would halt his brain from thinking about sex. Yeah, right. Between the countertop where she had sat and the silk stockings tossed on the floor by her shoes, he was reminded of what they had just done in this room.
Jesus. He turned off the water and silently cursed himself. What kind of moron got turned on by washing vegetables?
Suddenly, eating dinner before they went to bed wasn’t as appealing as it had been earlier. Screw it. Maybe he should just join her in the bathtub.
A noise at the back door interrupted his thoughts. Before he could register what was happening, a man stood in the kitchen doorway. The guy cocked his head to one side, an eyebrow raised in a what-the-hell look. A look John figured mirrored his own expression.
“Who the hell are you?” John bellowed.
“I was just going to ask you the same thing.”
They stood staring at each other for a moment. With a sickness that twisted his gut, he knew exactly who this man was. Several days earlier, the boys had pulled out an old family photo album and Zak had pointed out a picture of his dad.
The shorter man straightened his stance in an apparent attempt to close the distance between their height. Didn’t help.
“So you’re the big macho man supposedly taking care of my kids this summer,” tiny Greg said.
John placed his hands on his hips. “Yeah, and you’re the worthless asshole who seems to always forget his responsibilities.”
Greg narrowed his eyes. “Where’s my wife?”
This guy was unbelievable. Leaning forward, John raised his voice. “Your wife? Unless you brought her with you, pal, there’s nobody here that meets that description.”
Apparently getting irritated, Greg tried to walk farther into the kitchen, but John wouldn’t budge an inch.
Just for Appearances Page 12