by Jill Shalvis
Still holding her gaze, he engaged the lock.
“Um, Sean?”
“I can’t breathe out there.” He unbuttoned his jacket, slipped it off his shoulders and hung it on the hook on the back of the door. “You’re supposed to be helping me, Carly.”
“Yes. Well…” In his white dress shirt, he looked every bit as sophisticated and elegant as any aristocrat she’d ever seen. Then he smiled and took a step toward her. “I can breathe when I’m looking at you, Carly.”
“Oh.” It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her. He pressed her against the counter, buried his face in her neck and rocked his body to hers. “Oh, my,” she whispered.
She felt him smile against her neck as he slid his arms around her. “I’ve been wanting to do this all evening.”
“We’ve only been here twenty minutes.” She gripped the counter behind her, which did two things. One, it gave her some desperately needed support, since her knees had refused to support her.
And two, it pressed her entire body against the length of his.
“I told you I hate these silly parties.” His mouth found her ear. “You taste good.”
“Sean—” She planted a hand on his chest and pushed, because she couldn’t think with his mouth on her. “You’re supposed to be out there socializing.”
“I know.” His hands were very busy, molding her hips, her spine, her bottom. “Oh, yeah,” he murmured. “This is helping, believe me. Now tell me why you were hiding.”
Capturing his hands, she let out a nervous laugh. “Somehow I lost my touch with this socializing thing. I’m no help to you here tonight. I’m sorry.”
“It’s easy, remember?” Sean’s mouth followed the curve of her jaw. “Just carry a drink and smile.”
He was mocking her. And kissing the corner of her mouth. His hands broke free from hers. One big, warm one skimmed up her cheek, and his fingers gripped the earpiece of her glasses.
He was going to take them off. Putting her hand over his, she waited until he lifted his head. “Sean…” The way he was looking at her was intoxicating, with all the dazed heat. “Not here.”
“You feel it, too.”
“I always have.”
He went very still, then skimmed a slow hand up and down her spine. “I’m not sure what to do with all this wanting, Carly.”
For the first time, the name Carly wasn’t a heart stopper. It didn’t make her sad, because suddenly she no longer yearned to hear him call her Carlyne. She liked Carly.
She wanted to be her.
Maybe, after she told him the truth tonight, she could find a way to make that happen, could find a way to meld both her lives together into one she could live with. In his embrace, she could almost imagine everything would be okay.
He bent his head and kissed her again, softly. “I can feel you,” he whispered. “Your skin, your curves, your heat. Why are you hiding all that from me? Don’t you know how beautiful you are?”
Tears stung her eyes. Had a man ever been so attracted to her? Never. And it was now, when she was looking about as bad as she could look, that it really hit home.
He wanted her no matter what she looked like. He was attracted to what she was on the inside. That simple. “Sean, we…need to talk.”
“Hmm.” He occupied himself with kissing her neck, then tugged away the sweater to expose more skin.
“Really. Talk first.” But her voice was weak.
He found her collarbone, and she let out a helpless hum. He had one hand at the small of her back, urging her closer, his other slipping down, down, cupping her bottom while he slowly rocked his erection against her.
A hungry, desperate groan escaped each of them, interrupted by a knock at the door.
Slowly, very slowly, Sean lifted his head, his breathing rough and ragged. “Coming,” he called, his voice a bit hoarse. “Let’s go home,” he whispered to Carly. “Now.”
“To talk.”
“To everything.”
9
SEAN OPENED the bathroom door and stared into the startled faces of Sam and his wife, Helena. His hosts.
“Sean,” Sam said with amusement.
Helena looked Carly over with interest and lifted a brow. She’d been trying to set Sean up with one girlfriend after another for the better part of a year. “Well, hello.”
“Having fun, are we?” Sam asked with a wide grin.
“Sorry for the holdup. We…need to go.”
“I see.” Helena kissed his cheek. “Nice seeing you.”
“Thanks.” Sean took Carly’s hand and led her through the crowded house toward the door.
They were stopped time after time by clients, friends of clients, would-be clients. Frustrated, he abruptly changed tactics and took them through the living room, which had been cleared to allow dancing. There, he headed toward the sliding glass door, which led to the open yard.
“Slow down,” Carly whispered breathlessly.
On the patio, he turned, reached for her. Their bodies brushed together, then again, deliberately. He ran a hand down her back, urging her even closer. “I can’t get you out of my head, Carly. How you taste, how you feel. The sounds you make when I touch you.”
He was gratified to see her eyes glaze over. “Still want me to slow down?” he teased.
“No.”
From the yard they could walk to the front, get in his car and get home. To his bed.
But the night was so lovely. Warm yet breezy, the air carried the scent of the ocean, which was just beyond the property past the bluffs. The sky was littered with stars, like diamonds on a blanket of black velvet. And the music, soft now, drifted over them. He pulled her into his arms.
“What are we doing?”
“Dancing.” No hurry, he realized, because here, right here in the moment, was very nice, too. He took her hand, leading her off the lit deck into the shadows, where the grass was thick and luxurious beneath their feet, where the night shaded them from view. Her breath caught when he pulled her close, and at the sound, his entire body tightened.
“Sean—”
“Relax,” he said softly in her ear.
“I’m going to have a little trouble with that,” she said on a little laugh. “When I’m in your arms like this, I can’t seem to think. Your body… Well,” she said, sounding embarrassed.
“Don’t stop there.”
She gave a self-conscious smile that lit his heart. “My face feels hot, and the fire is spreading.”
He hoped to put that fire out by the end of the evening. “Ease up against me.” He let out a rough groan when she did. “Yeah. Like that.” He’d never thought of her as a particularly petite woman. How could he when she’d always covered herself in so many layers? But here, now, with his hands roaming her body, she felt so slender, so feminine. His attraction to her hadn’t had anything to do with her body, but now that it touched his like this, he changed his mind.
When he swayed, she swayed, and when he turned, she turned. Perfectly in sync, as if they’d been together forever. “You feel so good,” he murmured, loving how her arms were tight around his neck, the way her breath brushed against his neck.
They stayed like that, closer than close, moving together sensuously, erotically, until finally the music stopped.
After a long, reluctant moment, she released him and stepped back.
“That was real nice, Carly.”
“I don’t know… Sean, I don’t want this evening to be over. I don’t want things to change.”
There was a sadness in her eyes he didn’t understand. “Why would they?”
“It’s complicated.”
No doubt. Everything good was. “One more dance,” he whispered when the band started again, and when she hesitated he pulled her into his arms.
IT WAS RIGHT where Carlyne wanted to be, in Sean’s arms. Oh, how she wanted that. It was a homecoming, a delicious cool drink after a day too long in the sun. His breath was warm against hers. His finger
s slow and sure at the base of her spine, stroking softly, his strong legs pressed against hers.
And when he closed his eyes, pressing a sweet kiss to her temple, she nearly cried.
She’d never known such tenderness.
The wind teased their bodies. The night noises added to the beautiful, haunting music, to the scent of the sea, to the most amazing man in her arms. Her fingers played in his hair. Her other hand, entangled with his, lay against his thigh, which was taut.
Swaying softly.
Kissing lightly.
Touching gently.
Carlyne had danced with many, many men in her life. She’d been stepped on, hit on and had had to lead. But not with this man. Sean O’Mara was an extraordinarily sensual dancer, and for the first time ever, she became one, too.
It didn’t take but a moment for the embrace to change, to deepen. Intensify. Until now, dancing had been only an obligation, something that was expected.
Now she wanted time to stand still.
Ragged breathing wasn’t her only problem when they separated. She was on fire, burning and yearning. She, Princess Carlyne Fortier, wanted a man more than she wanted her next breath.
But she wasn’t a princess, not in this moment. And in a way, she wasn’t Carly, either. Didn’t matter, she still had to tell him everything. And risk all. “Need fresh air,” she whispered, and whirling, she walked off.
The grass was deep and thick, and not easy to maneuver through, so she bent and removed her shoes before speeding up her pace.
She had no idea where she was going.
When the grass turned to sand, she kept walking. When she topped the bluffs, she made her way down. And found herself on the beach.
The moon was hidden behind low, dark clouds, casting a beautiful blue glow on the waves pounding the shore.
And on the tall, beautiful man who’d followed her.
A small sound escaped her, one of loneliness, of wanting. She’d known he’d follow her. Maybe a small part of her had wanted him to.
Against her ribs, her heart beat a rapid tattoo. “I always wanted to live by the beach,” she said.
“Ah. Something new about you.” His lips formed a small smile as he moved closer. “Maybe one of these days you’ll give me more than a hint here and there.” He reached her, and very carefully, as if he expected her to run, took her hand firmly in his.
Tonight, she silently promised him as she went willingly against him. Tonight I’ll tell you everything.
Including how much I love you.
She waited for him to speak, but he was silent. If she had to give him up, then at least she could have tonight. She would have tonight.
It would have to be enough.
As if Fate was on her side, the moon moved behind a long, low cloud, taking away the remaining glow, hiding them both in complete darkness.
In the black anonymity of night she could be Carly one last time.
When he reached out and took off her glasses, she let him. When he cupped her cheek, so lightly she might not have felt it at all if her senses hadn’t been on red alert, she turned her head and kissed his palm.
At the change in his breathing, the knot in her belly increased. Then he tipped her face to his. She couldn’t see his expression, but she could feel his heat, his need, and she met him more than halfway.
She would take this, take him, and treasure the memories for the rest of her life.
His mouth was as firm and sensual as his body, and he knew how to use both. His tongue slid along hers, his hands learning her body, and when he finally raised his head, she was panting for more.
“If I kiss you again, I won’t want to stop,” he warned.
There were a million reasons this was a bad idea, and yet she couldn’t think of a single one. “Then kiss me again.”
No second invitation required. The words were hardly out of her mouth before his mouth took hers in the hottest, wettest, most carnal kiss she’d ever engaged in. Then, before she could catch her breath, he’d scooped her up in his arms and carried her down the beach and around the edge of a bluff to their own private world.
Sean dropped his jacket to the sand, then sank down, pulling her with him. “You sure?”
Oh, yeah. She was sure. To prove it, she reached for the buttons on his shirt, spreading the material wide, dancing her fingers across his skin. There was something about not being able to see that heightened her sense of touch, her sense of smell. And he both felt and smelled like heaven.
With similar bluntness, he reached for the front zipper on her sweater. Slowly it parted, and he slipped his hands inside, guiding it off her shoulders and down her arms. Then her bra. “I wish I could see you,” he whispered, laying her on her back on his jacket.
Before she could answer, before she could even think, If you could see me, we wouldn’t be doing this, his mouth nuzzled at the sensitive spot between her neck and collarbone, then lower. Cupping her breasts, plumping them up, he bent his head and opened his mouth on one, sucking, teasing with his tongue and teeth. Lifting his head, he ran a thumb over the wet peak, back and forth.
She cried out. She couldn’t help it. She was burning up from the inside out and needed him to put out the fire. Thrusting her hips helplessly against his, she continued making dark whimpering sounds she couldn’t contain. “I’ve never felt like this,” she said, horrified at the admission. “Never.”
“I know.”
Did that mean he’d never felt like this, either? In the months ahead without him, she would have liked to treasure the memory of knowing that. But he didn’t say, just kissed her hard, fueling her desperation with his own.
Then he left her for a moment, surging up to take off his shirt, and for the first time she felt like cursing the dark because she wanted to see his naked body against hers. Impossible, of course, but she could feel, and she did just that, spreading her fingers wide to touch every part of him she could reach. His broad shoulders. His strong arms. His wide chest. And that stomach… It rippled and quivered when she surged up to place her mouth right next to his belly button.
His breath caught, and she found she loved that sound. When she reached for his pants with fumbling fingers, he helped her push them down. And then he was shoving up her skirt, reaching for her tights, then her panties, until finally, oh, finally, they were slick, heated skin to slick, heated skin.
There was no way to mistake his erection, no way she wanted to. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she breathed, “Now. Please, Sean, now.”
She heard the sound of a foil packet opening and wanted to tell him to hurry, forget the condom, that for once, she wanted to be heart and soul with someone without any barriers between them, but she said nothing until he came back to her, pulled her close and entered her.
She cried out his name; he cried out hers. No longer could she think about her disguise or the dreaded condom or anything but how he made her feel, buried deep inside her.
He started to move within her, his rough, “Oh, yeah,” echoing in her mind because it had never felt like this, never. Arching, lifting her knees to take him in deeper, deeper, deeper, she had the time to gasp his name before she burst out of herself.
It startled her, the ease of it, the pure pleasure, for she’d never come before without straining, without really working for it. Two more strokes and he came, too, her name on his lips. The feel of him, the sound of him, triggered yet another orgasm for her, and it went on and on until they collapsed against each other, damp and sated and stunned.
Sean stayed over her for a long, long moment, his arms quaking faintly. She savored the last bit of pleasure. When he finally pulled away, Carly rolled to her back and studied the dark sky. Sean came up on one elbow and looked at her, his dark gaze gleaming in the night.
“Okay?” he asked, his voice low and direct.
“More than okay.” She already wanted to touch him again, desperately. Wanted him to touch her.
So when he slipped an arm beneath h
er, she eagerly turned to him, curving her body into his. She held her breath, knowing men didn’t want to be clung to, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. Her face was against his neck so that she could breathe in his scent. Her breasts were pressed against his chest. One of her thighs fell between his, as if their being tangled together, naked, on the beach, was the most natural thing in the world.
It felt so surreal, not being able to see him. Surreal to be stroking, exploring to her heart’s delight, but she did it anyway. He seemed perfectly content to let her, as he had his own exploring to do. No part of her was left unstroked, unkissed.
She eagerly returned the favor. She found that when she slid a finger over his nipple, his breathing changed, shallowed. And that she could make him tremble by stroking a finger down his belly. When she cupped his sex, which was already hard again, he rolled her to her back, slid his fingers through hers and kissed her in an unrushed but heated way that brought the immediacy back between them.
“I have two more condoms.”
Against him, she smiled. “Wouldn’t want to waste them.”
He nudged his erection between her thighs. “Now?”
“Oh, please, now.”
Their joining was much more leisurely this time, but no less hot for taking their time. If anything, the feelings were intensified because of all the slow, heated touches and kisses and stroking. And this time, when they’d finished, they dozed off in the moonless night.
Carly woke some time later to Sean’s hands on her body again. He seemed enthralled by her, which she understood, because she was equally fascinated with his body.
He ran his hands over her breasts, her belly, between her thighs. She came like that, then again when he moved inside her, thrusting with deep, rhythmic strokes.
Finally, sated and wobbling like drunks, they rose and faced each other, sharing a kiss so sweet, so deep and tender, Carly felt not only her heart but her soul stir.
And she both cursed and blessed the dark that had saved her.
10
“MY GLASSES,” Carly murmured, slipping them on quickly when Sean pulled them out of his pocket.