Dancing in a Hurricane (42 page)

She wrapped her arms around herself. "I love this man." She was never happier in her life. Her heart ached with love that couldn't be contained. Every inch of her wanted to be in his arms.

More. She wanted more. She wanted…everything. Incredible! This was what he told her would happen. When two people fell in love the way they had—completely and without reservation—their souls melded. And the physical expression of this was…sex. No, not just sex, making love. Closing her eyes for a moment, she wanted to be under him , his big body pressing her into his bed. A flush of desire tingled through her.

Chapter Thirty-One

All those times when Sixto tried to explain it to her, Bree doubted him, but it was true. He was right. She wanted to make love to him, needed to have him make love to her. Now.

Out on the patio, he re-tied a rope on the pool cover and walked toward her, fighting the wind that threatened to knock him down.

Her gorgeous, perfect man.

He slid open the patio door and came inside, dripping on the carpet. "Okay." He took off his boots. "Just these three doors left and…what?" He looked at her, furrowing his brow.

She smiled. "What?"

"What's that look for?"

"Mm. Nothing that can't wait." She picked up his boots and carried them to the garage.

He followed and hung his coat on a hook.

She looked at the control panel. "These three?" she pointed.

"Yeah. Go ahead. One at a time." He disappeared into the utility room.

She pressed the first button and looked into the house, seeing one shutter come down, then the second and third. She closed the panel door and shouted, "All finished."

"I'll be right in."

Walking through the dining room, she expected to feel boxed in, but instead, her skin warmed with a cozy, safe feeling. She turned on a quiet Cuban jazz mix, sat on the couch, tucked her feet under her, and held her cup of tea to warm her fingers. The candle flames flickered, mesmerizing her. How did a woman go about approaching a man to let him know she was ready for a physical relationship?

The easiest would be to peel off her clothes and go lay on his bed. She smiled. No, she didn't want to give him a heart attack. She could say nothing and let her body tell him, but since she hadn't done this before, she might make a mess of it.

Talking seemed to be the way they communicated best. She'd try a combination. Use her limited seduction skills to get him worked up then tell him what she wanted and let him take the lead.

He came in from the garage and closed the door. Walking past her, he said, "I'm gonna change and…" He stopped. "Seriously, Bree. What is that look about?"

She put on her most innocent face. "I don't know what you mean."

He took her cup of tea from her hand, sniffed it, and gave it back to her. "Have you been drinking?"

"No, but would you like something stronger in your tea?"

He shook his head. "No, thanks. I'm hungry, though. Would you like—"

She jumped up. "I'll fix us something while you change."

"All right." He seemed uncertain. "Thanks."

She reheated the mastacioli she'd made the day before, warmed two meatballs, and sprinkled everything with parmesan. Opening a bottle of Chianti, she poured two glasses, made a face, drank half her glass, and refilled it. Liquid courage.

She brought the meal to the living room along with cloth napkins and the bottle of wine. Sixto joined her on the couch wearing sweats. "Thanks,
cariña
. I was too busy to eat much today."

"Did you have breakfast?"

He picked up his plate, took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. "I had an omelet."

"Lunch?"

He filled his mouth and nodded. After swallowing and drinking some wine, he said, "A Cuban sandwich."

"It's six o'clock now. You didn't have anything in the afternoon?"

"Mm, I ate a piece of chicken at…" He smiled. "You're mocking me?"

She wiped a speck of sauce off his lip with her napkin. "If I ate as much as you do, I'd weigh four hundred pounds."

"Do you think I'm getting fat?" He grabbed his side where a spare tire would be on any other man.

"You're a shark." She slipped her hand up under his shirt and rubbed his stomach. "A sleek, muscular eating machine." She smiled her naughtiest grin. She was on the prowl and it was empowering.

He his face turned wary. After looking into her eyes a minute, he said, "You seem different tonight. Are you doing okay with the hurricane?"

She nodded, drank a big swallow of wine, and went back to her seduction. Setting her glass down, she moved closer to him, took the fork from his hand, loaded it with mastacioli, and fed him.

He stared at her as he chewed.

She forked a single piece of pasta and slowly brought it to her mouth. She looked into his eyes, parted her lips and stuck the fork in, wrapped her lips around it and pulled it out. "Mmm." She chewed, working her best seductress smile. "Yummy."

His face was incredulous. "What the hell?" He took the fork from her, dropped it on his plate, and set it on the table. "Bree, what's this about?"

She turned to face him.

His eyes showed concern.

"Sixto…" She put her hand on his thigh, he covered hers with his. "This is difficult to say."

He nodded, she loved how patiently he waited for her.

"I love you."

One side of his mouth curled up. "I love you too, Bree."

She swallowed and looked down at their hands on his leg. "And I need to tell you that I was wrong and you were right about love." She glanced at his face.

He looked off to the side and she could almost hear him thinking.

"You told me…" Her voice was unsteady. "It's natural to share love in body as well as soul."

He stared at her, not moving.

She continued. "You asked how love can grow if physical love isn't allowed in the relationship."

His body tensed and his gaze bore into hers. "Tell me you want us to make love."

Her throat constricted, every ounce of her love for him swelling her heart. She nodded.

"Oh, God, Bree." He pulled her onto his lap, kissed her frantically, one hand holding her neck, the other gripping her hip, caressing her. "Say it."

She let out a squeak, cleared her throat, and whispered, "Make love to me, Sixto. Make me your woman."

His eyes closed, his body jerked and his breath sounded louder than the hurricane. "Aw, Bree."

He picked her up in his arms and bent down. "Grab the candles."

She did and held them as he slowly carried her to his room, staring into her eyes.

She shivered, the intensity of his gaze, the candle flames reflected in his beautiful brown eyes, shook her inside, heated her blood.

He stepped into his room and kicked the door shut. After setting her down, he took the candles, set one on the bedside table, and the other by the television. He turned to her, suddenly looking big and powerful, a hungry, unleashed animal with its sights on her.

She felt small, unsure. She began to tremble.

"
Cariña
, we'll go slowly." He walked to her. "Kiss me. Show me you want this as much as I do."

She stood on tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips to his. She kissed him, showing him the magnitude of her desire. Her tongue played on his, he lapped hers, his kiss as perfect as everything else in his life.

She slowed the kiss and looked into his eyes. "It's been a while for me, Sixto."

He nodded. "I know, love." His face softened. The sweet expression in his eyes reassured her. "I'm honored."

She smiled. "You're an honorable man."

When he looked away, she grew concerned, but after a moment, his gaze swung back to hers. "I want to live up to the image you have of me."

She put her hands on his cheeks. "You do, Sixto. Every minute we're together, I hold in my heart. Every second we're apart I ache, wanting to be with you."

"Bree." He kissed her, passion and love combining to make the kiss unforgettable, searing. He explored her mouth as his hands slid under her sweatshirt. Lifting it up, he broke the kiss and pulled off her shirt.

She grabbed the bottom of his sweatshirt, lifted, and let him help her tug it off.

He slid his fingers in the elastic of her sweatpants and peeled them down. Sitting on his heels, he tapped her left leg, she lifted it out of the pants, then her right. "Somehow," he murmured. "Wool socks and lacy underwear is an extremely sexy combo on you."

Laughing, she lifted one foot. "The socks can come off. I'll trust you to keep me warm tonight."

He groaned as he grabbed her ankle, slid off one sock then the other. He stood and waited.

It was her turn. She pulled down his sweats, but had to stop and ease the elastic over his engorged penis. At eye level with it, seeing it tenting his cotton boxer briefs, she had a moment of nervousness. But when she looked up at him and saw white-hot fire in his eyes, a flare of desire rocketed through her. She knelt and took off his sweats.

He kicked them aside and she ran her hands up his thighs. As she snuck her fingers under the bottoms of his briefs, she whispered, "I want to see you."

He stared down at her, his breath labored, a rogue shudder racing through his body.

She pulled down the waistband, over his turgid cock, and let them drop to the floor. Unsure, she reached for him. She stopped and looked into his eyes.

"If you don't touch me," his voice rumbled, low and sexy. "I will die."

She pressed her fingertips on his shaft, felt his body convulse, and wrapped her hand around the silken skin as hot as fire, so perfect she could barely wait for him to be inside her. "You're incredible, Sixto." She leaned forward and kissed the head.

"Bree." He reached for her arms and helped her to her feet. "I'm going to embarrass myself if you keep that up, woman."

She smiled. "You like that?"

"Oh, yeah. But you first." He watched her through hooded eyes.

She would enjoy every moment of this. He reached behind her and unhooked her bra, slid it off her shoulders and down her arms, tossing it aside. He cupped her breasts. "Perfect." He bent and kissed one nipple, pulled it into his mouth and sucked, teasing it with his tongue.

She grabbed his shoulders to keep from falling. "That's amazing." Bolts of pleasure raced through her breasts and shot lower, converging in her core. She felt herself becoming wet, slick, ready for his penetration.

He kissed lower, trailing a path down her belly. His fingers hooked in her panties and slid them down her legs. He knelt before her, ran his hands up her legs to her hips. Moving closer, he kissed her mound. "Spread your feet apart for me."

The touch of his lips, his demanding words, sent delicious flashes of heat through her bloodstream. She stepped out of her panties and did as he ordered.

"Mmm. Beautiful." He licked, slowly, as if she were an ice cream cone. Again and again he lapped her, just as he'd teased her tongue earlier.

Her knees shook and tiny contractions tingled across her opening.

He stood and pulled her against him, his hard penis pressed against her belly. He grabbed her butt, picked her up and stepped forward until her legs touched the bed. Laying her on the black satin sheets, his gaze inched down her body, slowly and decadently.

She rolled her head and wiggled her body to enjoy the feel of the cool satin against her back, the hot radiance of his stare along her front. He knelt on the bed, slid her body around until he kissed her gently between her legs. "Tell me what you like," he rumbled. "And what you don't like."

"Mmm hmm." She sighed and closed her eyes, "I can barely stand it."

He chuckled. "Is that your way of telling me to shut up and get to work?"

"Yes. Please?"

"You're too polite." He spread her legs with his hands, touched her labia with gentle fingers. "Next time, I want you to grab my hair and…" He groaned, massaging her lips, her mound.

She let each new sensation bringing her closer to a climax. He licked her again, long, loving strokes of his tongue, on her lips, her thighs, her mound, and finally her clitoris.

She jumped, he paused, she said, "More." He obeyed.

He opened her lips with his fingers, teased her clit with his tongue. She tensed, moments from an orgasm. He slid his finger in her opening, in and out, his tongue keeping the same rhythm. Faster, harder, he licked until she yelled, "Sixto!" A high-pitched scream sounded far away as her mind exploded into a million pieces, tingling sensations rushed through her and her core pulsed around his finger.

She collapsed, breathing heavily, dizzy with pleasure. He moved onto the bed next to her, took her sweetly into his arms, and held her, kissing her temple. She smelled herself on his mouth, the musky scent erotic.