The Very Thought of You (25 page)

“You're not going to need these.”

That left her skimpy bikini panties.

She hoped this was another “open sesame” moment, because she was ready for him to get her naked and himself, too. She was really, really ready for that. The other times she'd touched him, he'd been dressed. In retrospect, she might have thought overly so. She thought exactly that now, even though she was certain he wasn't wearing Calvin Klein briefs under those jeans. A man in a hurry. She wanted to see every part of him, not just the broad back she stared at in the mirror. She wanted to touch him all over.

When he stood, she reached for his zipper. “I can't think of a single reason why you should need these.”

Noting the bulge behind his zipper, she took care not to emasculate him and slid it down slowly. He popped right out, in perfect proportion. Like all the other parts of his body. Did size matter? That was one problem she wouldn't have to worry about. She had to remind herself not to come right then, but it was a struggle. She couldn't look away, but she couldn't seem to do anything but look.

He sunk his fingers into her hair and kissed the top of her head. “You'd better finish what you started.” His tone was ragged, and his breath came fast and rough.

She slipped her hands under the waistband of his jeans and slid them down over his buttocks and long muscular legs. He kicked off his Docksiders then his jeans. Her mouth opened as she pulled in her breath. A really aggressive woman would have put that mouth to better use. She decided to hold hers in reserve for another night, if he invited her back. Instead, she took him in her hand and lightly stroked the long rock-solid shaft with her thumb nail. A groan ripped from deep inside his throat. After a while, he took her hand away.

“Maybe we'd better save that for later.”

She looked up into his eyes. “I thought you could leap tall buildings in a single bound.”

He kissed her palm, the one that had been wrapped around his engorged penis. “I learned a lot on the way to becoming a man. One of the most important things I remember was never to come in a woman's hand. I don't want to come until I'm inside you. Then not for a long while, either.”

Her abdominal muscles bunched in anticipation.

He picked her up, carried her to the side of the bed, and dropped her right in the middle. He knelt back on his heels beside her, got his thumbs under the waistband of her panties and slipped them down and off. A delicious shiver followed their path down her legs then rebounded into her chest. They disappeared over the side of the bed. Now her clothes were in two different rooms, and she was in no hurry to collect them.

He gazed down at her sprawled naked on the sheet. “Gooooood golly … Miss … ” He half sang the intro then stopped. “How often must you have heard that one.”

“Pretty often, but never quite that way.” She grinned.

He leaned down and over her and started at her throat with wet, hot kisses, then moved slowly down to the soft ridge between her collarbones. She stroked one side of his face with the tips of her fingers. The skin felt almost emery board rough now. A shudder slid from her head to her feet and she imagined the feel of it against the rest of her body. He cupped one breast and took it in his mouth and licked and sucked the nipple. That sent a spasm into the V where her thighs converged: Could he have got her any hotter or wetter?

He cupped both her breasts in his hands and rubbed his chin lightly against her nipples, barely grazing them. She gave a little yelp as a streak of pleasure surged through her. She sank her hands in his hair and pulled his head up. He gave her a deep, hungry kiss that went on so long she wondered if she'd ever breathe again. When he slid his mouth away, she touched her lips with her fingers. No one had ever kissed her like that. She could still feel the residual buzz of current that spread across her mouth.

He kissed her throat and the cleft between her breasts, then worked his way down her abdomen with the tip of his tongue. He ended at her navel where he circled the indentation. His hand glided up the inside of her thigh, and she squirmed and opened her legs further. He stroked her with his thumb, unhurried, and touched the spot between her legs that made her gasp with pleasure. Was this good? Oh, yes, better than good. So much better she couldn't find a fitting word for it. Hellaciously fantastic was as close as she could come. Come. God, don't let her do that. Still, she felt herself edging closer.

“Nick.” A ragged sound rasped from her throat. She watched in the mirror as he touched and tormented her. She reached down and dug her hands through the hair at the sides of his head. “I think you should … you know … ”

He dragged his mouth up her body until it almost touched her parted lips. “Get down to more serious business?”

“Hmm, yes, more … ”

He leaned across the bed, opened a drawer in the nightstand and took out two foil packets. He left one on the stand, ripped the other open, and slid on the condom.

“Take fair warning. Once will not be enough tonight.”

She certainly hoped not.

He settled between her legs and stroked her for a moment, then pushed inside her. For a moment, he stayed perfectly still, poised above her, his hands braced alongside her body. Then he withdrew almost completely before he plunged part way in again.

“Is this serious enough for you?”

“Mmm.”

“Do you want more?” He slid in deeper.

“Yes, more … ”

He plunged farther and began to stroke gently. “Like this?”

“Yes.” The feel of him inside her made her pull in her breath and hold it until she was almost dizzy.

He pumped harder and faster. “Like this?”

Oh God, if she didn't already love him.

His mouth came down over hers. His tongue entered her mouth and he thrust his engorged penis deeper inside her. The more she squirmed and moaned, the harder he thrust. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he wove his fingers through her hair and held her as he rammed deep and hard. She clutched his shoulders and rocked in unison to his body's rhythm. Pleasure hit her in rolling waves that pushed her to the edge of climax. She held on, waiting for him, and wondered just how many buildings he could leap in just one bound. Every thrust told her his erection was still rock hard. Her body had reached the point where it could no longer stop the orgasms that racked her limbs and pulled everything tight inside her.

“Molly,” he gasped and buried his face against her neck and shuddered to a climax. He lay still for a while. His breath came in rapid spurts. Then he withdrew from her. She unwound her legs from across his back. The sheet felt sticky hot under her feet, just like her body.

“Don't move.” He got up off the bed and went into the bathroom. When he came back, he lay down beside her and brushed a thick lock of curly hair off her forehead. “This is all I've thought about these past days.”

She stroked his cheek with the back of her hand. He needed a shave, but that only made him more handsome, better than any of the guys in magazine ads or hot movie stars. “You mean even when you poked around in the dark earlier and searched for some bad guy?”

“No.” He rolled onto his back. “From that first day in your office.”

“You thought about making love to me when you were so mad?”

He brushed her bottom lip with his thumb. “I wasn't really that mad, especially after I saw you.”

“Yes, you were.”

“Okay, I was pissed, but I still wondered what it would be like, if it would be good.”

As she snuggled against him, she laid her arm across his chest. “Was it?”

“It was fantastic. I came close to confirming that in Napa.”

“What was bidding on that trip really about, anyway?”

“At first, it was about getting you alone and winning you over to my side. But then it became all about enjoying the day with you. What Cynthia and Dominique told me about you at the auction proved true. You're warm and bright and funny. Everything about that day felt right.”

“It did for me, too.”

“I was right about something else, also.”

“What?”

“Your hair.”

She sat partway up and looked down into in his eyes. “What about it?”

“I wondered if it would stick out all over like heating coils after hot sex.”

“Oh my God.” She shot all the way up and stared into the mirror. “I look freaky.” She clapped her hands against the curls that stuck out in almost every direction.

Nick laughed and pulled her back down beside him. “You look beautiful. Just imagine how I would have felt if I hadn't curled your hair.”

“Is that some sort of a test with you?”

“No.”

She lay against him, so happy, and yet it wasn't a complete happiness. Complete happiness is saying, “I love you,” after sex. She couldn't say anything approaching that to him. Maybe she'd never say it. Maybe tonight was all there would ever be for him and her. That sucked.

She had a perfect view of them in the mirror. He had his arm around her and her head rested against his chest. They looked like a contented couple who'd just had great sex. Tonight, she wanted to give in to the fantasy that they were a couple in a committed relationship. Only he controlled the kind she wanted … needed. He controlled everything, even beyond the sex. She might eventually come to think of this as the million-dollar relationship, all in the debit column. A relationship that, inadvertently, she'd somehow instigated. Thanks to her blithely offered
opinions
, his tenants held out for a big payoff — and rightly so — one he swore he couldn't afford. Now she was cemented in the middle. It was as if a bus bore down on her from one end and a sixteen-wheeler truck from the other. She didn't dare think about the clinic and its possible demise under his bulldozer. Not tonight, when she was so happy.

He wound a curl around his finger and kissed her lightly on the lips.

“What are you thinking about?”

How could she answer his question? Certainly not with the truth. Maybe if she didn't answer, he'd go back to whatever thoughts had occupied him.

“Molly?”

“Hmm.”

“Don't you want to tell me?”

“Is it important?”

“It is to me.” He sounded serious.

That's when she decided on a half-truth. “I was thinking … I'm glad I came over tonight.” Ooh. That sounded like they'd just had a hot game of Scrabble instead of the hottest sex on the planet.

“That's close enough.”

“Close enough to what?”

“To what I thought. That I'm one lucky guy that you changed your mind.”

He followed the curve of her body until his hand rested on her hip. Then he tipped her head back and kissed her with the same depth of desire and need as before. He stroked her thigh, then trailed the back of his hand up her body to her breast. Deliciously hot tingles poked at her skin everywhere he touched. Then he reached for the other packet he left on the nightstand and took out the condom.

“Okay, Miss Molly, show me what else you've got.”

She reached up, threw her arms around his neck, dragged him down on top of her, and showed him more than he'd probably ever expected.

• • •

Molly awoke from a sound sleep and gazed around the unfamiliar room. For a moment, she couldn't figure out where she was or how she got there. Then her gaze settled on Nick. He lay on his back, one arm bent at the elbow and resting above his head on the pillow. He was naked and so was she. It didn't take her aunt's crystal ball to figure out why.

She sat up and glanced at the clock on the nightstand. The luminous dial showed 5:19. Yikes. She hadn't been home in almost twenty-four hours.

Maybe she'd better not wake him. She slipped quietly from the bed. By last count, they'd made love three times. She remembered every moment, enough at least to plaster a smug, self-satisfied grin on her face. Was three times ever enough? Right now didn't seem like the optimal moment to find out.

Her last recollection of her shoes and panties was they'd landed somewhere on the carpet at the foot of the bed. She began to hunt. Eventually, she found them and slipped them on. The rest of her clothing resided somewhere in the kitchen. Nick had left the stove light on, and she stumbled in that direction without a mishap.

She had her bra fastened and her skirt halfway zipped up when he appeared in the doorway. He raked his hands through his hair and walked into the kitchen. His jeans were on but only partially zipped. Serious stubble shadowed his face.

“What are you doing?”

“I'm getting dressed.” She reached for her blouse, which lay in a heap on the kitchen counter.

“Why?”

“I have to go home.”

He frowned. “What for?”

“I have to shower and change my clothes.”

“I have a bathroom with plenty of running water.”

She slipped on her blouse. “There are things in my bathroom I need.”

“Like what?”

“Well, my toothbrush, for one.”

“Oh.” He frowned, then his expression brightened. “We can share mine.”

She smiled. At least he hadn't offered her a brand new unopened one, like he kept a supply on hand in case of an unplanned sleepover.

“It's a generous offer, but I have to decline.” This didn't seem the right time to mention that after shampooing her hair, she'd require whole gobs of conditioner to tame it. He probably didn't need any.

“I thought we'd have breakfast. I know a place that serves the best burrito within a hundred miles. I want to take you there.”

Did a quick bite in a hole-in-the-wall Mexican joint qualify as a real date? She liked to think so. The only other time they'd shared food, he'd won her in an auction. She glanced down at her skirt and blouse.

“I can't go anywhere like this except home. My clothes are all wrinkled.” That would give the burrito crowd something to gossip about.