by Nicola Marsh
With Harper, it was more than sex.
Damned if he was ready for it.
29
With Manny in the bathroom, Harper paced. From the door to the balcony and back again, over and over. It did little to calm her rampaging nerves.
She’d almost screwed up this night before it had begun.
Manny had looked at her like a crazy person when she’d freaked about going to his room instead of hers. She’d had it all planned out, how to ensure they hooked up here instead of his room. Lead into it gently, insist they go to her room, easy. Instead, she’d made up that lame-ass excuse about being fussy about beds. Major slap-upside-the-head moment.
He hadn’t bought it either, but being the consummate gentleman, he’d offered her an out. He thought she didn’t want this.
Like hell.
So she set about proving exactly how much she wanted him.
She’d pulled the covers back, dimmed the lights so only the balcony light remained on, and stripped down to her underwear. Plain old serviceable black cotton. She hadn’t planned on hooking up with anyone in New Zealand, let alone Manny, and she hadn’t had time to go out and shop for sexy lingerie. It had never been her thing anyway. With Colin, she didn’t want him lingering over looking at her body once she’d been diagnosed. It had always been lights out. A smart move as it turned out.
That’s why she’d insisted on her room tonight. She needed access to her makeup in the morning, to ensure Manny didn’t see her face in all its patchy glory, and so she could control the lighting situation too. The latter wouldn’t have been such a big deal in his room, though he might think her mad once she started running around turning off lights before they got down to sexy time.
Thankfully, he’d excused himself for the bathroom when they’d entered her room, giving her time to prepare. The sound of the bathroom door unlatching had her bolting toward the bed. She didn’t know whether to sit or stand or lie down, nerves making her palms clammy.
This was ridiculous. She liked Manny. He was a good guy who’d helped her out of a jam when he didn’t need to. He was funny and hot and beyond sexy.
She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted a guy, so why wouldn’t her pounding pulse calm the hell down?
He stepped out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.
Broad chest dusted in hair. Strong arms. Delineated six-pack. Wow.
They gawked at each other for several seconds, his lopsided smile not what she’d hoped for when he first saw her semi-naked. His fingers toyed with the knot holding the towel up, and her breath caught as he undid it.
Her gaze riveted to that towel, and when he whipped it away with a flourish she didn’t know whether to laugh or be disappointed.
“You seemed a bit freaked before, so I thought I might lighten the moment.” He flung the towel away and did a bow. “Here I am, for your viewing pleasure.”
This amazing man, standing in tight cotton boxers with his arms flung wide, had done this for her. He’d wanted to put her at ease. She wanted to hug him. But first, she had naughtier things in mind.
“You want me to objectify you?”
“Please.” With a grin, he lowered his arms and snapped the elastic of his boxers. “But hey, I saved the best bit for you to unwrap.”
She laughed, unable to remember the last time she felt this playful before sex. She’d been raised to present the perfect front, even before her diagnosis, so getting naked with someone always involved a lot of forethought for her. Had she waxed, exfoliated, moisturized? Was she wearing the right underwear? Was she thin enough, pretty enough?
Then Colin had seen the real her, and nothing mattered anymore. All the preparation in the world meant little when white patches on your skin made you look like one of those patchy cows.
These days, she did all the usual maintenance—waxing, et cetera—but it was for her. She didn’t need a man for validation. But with Manny staring at her like he wanted to gobble her whole, she realized she’d missed this. Missed being appreciated. Missed being adored.
She hoped he intended on adoring her all night, repeatedly.
“Come here,” she said, beckoning him. “Time for me to unwrap my present.”
“I can barely see you,” he said, pretending to flail his arms around blindly as he walked toward her.
“All the better to feel your way.”
And that’s exactly what she did when he got close enough: put her hands all over him. His chest. His shoulders. His waist.
“Don’t move,” she murmured. “Let me feel you.”
He inhaled sharply as she slid her palms over every contour, exploring every dip with her fingertips. His skin was hot, his muscles hard, and he groaned when she slid her arms around his waist and grabbed his ass.
“I want to touch you,” he whispered, his muscles quivering beneath her fingers as they traced the curve of his ass and skated along his waist to the front. “You’re killing me.”
“Patience.” She stepped forward and pressed her lips to his shoulder, the tip of her tongue flicking out to lick him. He tasted salty, with a tangy undertone of citrus cologne. Her tongue traveled the length of his collarbone, lingered in the dip between, before doing the same on the other.
Only then did she slip her hand in the front of his boxers.
His breathing quickened and his lips parted as she delved deeper. He gasped as she wrapped her hand around him, all that hard perfection encased in soft velvet.
“Enough,” he growled, stilling her hand. “My turn.”
Harper liked taking charge in the bedroom because it gave her some sense of control when the rest of her life was spiraling out of it. But giving herself over to Manny’s ministrations felt natural as he lowered her onto the bed and worshipped her with his mouth, his tongue, and his hands.
He unclasped her bra, sliding it over her arms with reverence as his mouth claimed one nipple, his thumb and forefinger twirling the other, sending sensation streaking through her body and pooling between her legs.
She writhed as he alternated between sucking and laving one nipple, and plucking at the other, until she didn’t know where his mouth ended and her body began.
“So hot,” he murmured when he eventually lifted his head, his eyes glazed and unfocused.
He slid down her body, taking her panties with him, leaving her exposed. She stiffened for a second, hoping he couldn’t see all of her in the dark, before forcing herself to relax. There was barely a strip of light on the ceiling from the reflected glow of the balcony light. He couldn’t see the patches unless he had X-ray vision.
With the first touch of his tongue against her clitoris, her worries evaporated. The second had her arching off the bed. The third had her hands blindly reaching for his head to anchor him in place. Then she lost all sense as he tongued her with the expertise of a man who knew how to please a woman. He slid one finger inside her, another, her pleasure building too quickly, not quick enough.
As his fingers mimicked what she yearned for him to do with the impressive appendage she’d had her fingers wrapped around not that long ago, he sucked on her clit and she came apart on a yell. Wave after wave rippled over her, setting her nerve endings alight.
She had no idea where he produced a condom from—magic Manny indeed—but the moment he slid into her, inch by exquisite inch, was pure heaven.
Harper hadn’t known what to expect when she eventually had sex with Manny, but it sure wasn’t this . . . this . . . tenderness. They’d been so hot for each other she’d anticipated hard and fast, but as he slid in and out, oh so slowly, giving a soft grunt every time, she gave herself over to the intimacy of it.
His lips fused to hers, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, testing, tasting. His hands slid under her ass, changing the angle, and soon she was climbing toward climax again. So close . . . just o
ut of reach . . . he bit down on her lip and drove into her one last time and she flew, her orgasm crashing over her a moment before his breath shuddered out on a long, low moan.
When Harper could eventually get her brain to work in sync with her mouth, she said, “That was . . .”
“Magic?”
“Yeah, if that does it for you,” she said, chuckling.
“You do it for me.”
The amusement faded from his eyes, replaced by an emotion she dared not label for fear of reading too much into this.
So she deflected, something she’d become a master at.
“I’m glad you think so, because I intend on doing it for you all night long.”
30
The rich aroma of coffee woke Manny. He’d been having the most amazing dream . . . then he opened his eyes, blinked, and realized the reality far surpassed his fantasy.
Harper sat on the side of the bed and placed a steaming cup of coffee on the bedside table.
“Good morning.” She leaned down to press a kiss to his lips but didn’t linger. “I ordered coffee, but we’ve got a breakfast booking downstairs.”
Disappointed when she stood and moved away, he sat up and reached for the coffee. “Thanks for this.”
“My pleasure.”
She crossed to the balcony and pulled the blackout drapes open, and only then did he see her fully. Dressed in jeans and a tank top, face perfectly made-up, hair slicked back in a low ponytail, like she was ready for a day of exploring.
Not quite the wake up he’d envisaged after the hedonistic night they’d spent together. How many times had they done it? Three? Four? Sex with Harper had been better than he’d imagined, and she’d matched him, wild and wanton in a way that had him hard just thinking about it.
Yet this composed woman standing before him was nothing like her wild counterpart, and he hoped he hadn’t done something wrong. He never second-guessed himself. Confidence came with age; at least that’s what he believed.
So why had she showered and dressed and made a booking downstairs when he thought they’d share room service this morning, preferably in bed?
“You’re staring at me,” she said, turning to face him, but with the sun at her back he couldn’t get a read on her expression.
“That’s because I’m besotted. I thought you would’ve figured that out after last night.”
“All I figured out from last night is that you’re a sex maniac.” She took a few steps toward him. “And I like it.”
“Good, because we can skip that tour of Huka Falls I mentioned and spend the day in bed.”
He hoped she’d agree but her rigid posture screamed hands-off, as a hint of a frown appeared between her brows.
“You’ve worn me out, so how about we have breakfast, tour the falls, then come back here for an early dinner, and after that . . .” She gestured around the room. “I think I can handle you spending one more night here before we head back to Auckland tomorrow.”
He couldn’t get a read on her and it confused the hell out of him. She wouldn’t have invited him back for tonight if she didn’t want him, yet it seemed like she couldn’t wait to get rid of him now.
“Is something wrong?”
She stiffened imperceptibly before broaching the remaining distance between them to sit on the bed. “No, I’m fine.”
She captured his face between her hands, running the pads of her thumbs over his cheekbones, tracing a line toward his mouth, before pressing her lips to his. She tasted of minty toothpaste as she grazed her lips over his again and again, torturing him, taunting him.
When she eased away, he glimpsed regret mingling with need in her eyes.
“I can’t figure you out.” His voice came out rough, hoarse, as he reined in the impulse to haul her back under the covers and tear her clothes off.
“Nothing to figure out,” she said, standing and moving out of arm’s reach, eyeing the door like she couldn’t wait to flee. “Apart from the fact I’m a starving woman who needs sustenance, so how about I meet you downstairs?”
Before he could protest, she was gone.
31
Harper had made a complete mess of the morning after.
Manny must think she was a nutjob because of it.
Despite having little sleep, she’d set her alarm for five thirty, giving her plenty of time to shower and dress before he woke. Even then, she’d had the fastest shower on record and hoped he wouldn’t knock on the bathroom door and ask why she’d locked it. Taking off her makeup, showering, and reapplying it meant she needed complete privacy, and she couldn’t risk him walking in on her.
Ironic, that in the stark fluorescent lighting of the bathroom illuminating the white patches on her face and body, she felt nothing like the sexy, empowered woman from last night. Instead, in the harsh light, she wanted to shrink back into herself and don her camouflage before facing the guy who had rocked her world.
With a sexual attraction as intense as theirs, it stood to reason they’d be combustible in bed, but it had been so much better than she’d imagined. Manny was a skilled, considerate lover who gave pleasure before taking, who made her laugh before making her scream, who had an intimate knowledge of anatomy and used it to her advantage.
Heat flooded her body at the thought, and the fine hairs on the back of her neck snapped to attention at the memory of his hands and mouth all over her.
“Madam, can I get you a coffee while you wait?”
Harper startled and blinked at the waiter, who was barely out of his teens, before shaking her head. She’d already had one coffee and the last thing she needed before breakfast with Manny was to get more wired. “No thanks, I’m fine for now.”
The waiter nodded and left her alone. Alone to think about how she could wrestle back some sense of normality when Manny joined her shortly.
She’d all but bolted from her room ten minutes ago. She’d aimed for casual by waking him with coffee but she should’ve known he’d be too astute, and he’d picked up on her jitters immediately. She’d tried to assuage him with that kiss, but all it had served to do was make her feel worse. What she wouldn’t have given to strip and crawl back under the covers with him, but there was a reason she only had sex in the dark, and no matter how spectacular their night, he wasn’t ready to see the real her yet.
He’d never get to see the real her.
This thing between them was a fling, an interlude born of close proximity in another country. It would be over as soon as it had begun when they headed back to Auckland tomorrow before boarding a plane to Melbourne the next day. Fleeting fun, just the way she wanted it.
So why did the thought of reinstating her man ban leave her feeling hollow, like all her insides had been scooped out and she was nothing but an empty shell?
She caught sight of Manny at the entrance to the restaurant and waved. He must’ve gone back to his room to shower and change, because his hair clung in wet whorls close to his scalp, and he wore khaki shorts and a white polo that set off his skin. But he hadn’t shaved and the shadow along his jaw lent him a dangerous edge that made him sexier, if that was possible.
She watched him walk toward her, a saunter more than a stride, like he had all the time in the world—or maybe he didn’t fancy sitting with the crazy lady at breakfast, the woman who’d welcomed him last night and retreated beneath her polished veneer this morning.
“Hey,” she said, when he reached the table. “Hope you’re hungry. They’ve got a wicked menu.”
“Ravenous.” He bent to kiss her before taking a seat, and that one small gesture went some way to calm her nerves.
She’d treated him pretty badly back in the room, but he obviously didn’t hold a grudge as he picked up the menu and flicked through it. She owed him some kind of explanation, but anything she could come up with would sound lame. When he continued to study the
menu, she fiddled with the cutlery, trying to compose something that wouldn’t make her sound like a nutter.
Stilling her fingers, she folded them in her lap and said, “Sorry for being so awkward before. I’m not so good with morning-after etiquette.”
He lowered the menu and eyeballed her, and she was relieved to see understanding rather than censure in his eyes.
“You don’t need to feel awkward around me. I thought we got past all that around the time you used my face as a cupcake for your decorating skills.”
She laughed, as he’d intended, and she wanted to vault the table to hug him in gratitude for making this easy on her. “I’m a dork. What can I say?”
“You can say how spectacular I was last night. How you couldn’t get enough. How badly you want a repeat.”
“That too,” she said, with a smile. “I had fun last night and despite running out on you this morning I’m looking forward to tonight.”
“Phew, for a minute there I thought your sprint might’ve been a result of disappointment.”
“I didn’t pick you to have performance anxiety.”
“I don’t, but one more moment with you not wanting to be anywhere near me in your room and I might’ve developed a severe case.”
Thankfully, the teen waiter approached again, and after ordering smashed avocado for her and hollandaise poached eggs for him, they fell into comfortable chatter. And it continued throughout their breakfast and on their drive to Huka Falls, New Zealand’s number one tourist attraction.
But as Manny took hold of her hand before they started down the track to explore the noisy falls, she couldn’t help but think she might’ve made a mistake.
She’d survived one awkward postcoital encounter this morning. What happened when there was a repeat tomorrow? Would Manny think she was completely bonkers?
It shouldn’t matter as they’d be leaving, but it did, because what this incredible man thought of her meant something. The way she saw it, she had a choice. Go back to his room for a quickie before retreating to her room or invite him back to hers to spend the night, knowing he’d probably find it strange to find her fully dressed for a second morning in a row.