Searching for Sea Glass: BEST-SELLING AUTHOR (Sea Glass Secrets Book 1) (19 page)

“I won’t hurt you,” he vowed. “I’ve told you this before. I’d never hurt you, Sunny.”

“How can you not?” she blurted out. Her face reddened. “I mean, I’ve felt your… I’ve felt you through your clothes. I know how big it… you are,” she mumbled, embarrassed to be having this awkward conversation.

His low, seductive laughter made her stricken eyes shoot up. The tenderness in his face reassured her. He wasn’t mocking her. He was just finding the humor in their very strange exchange.

“You’re good for my ego, Sunny Murphy,” he teased as he began leading her, once again, through the garden.

The narrow skirt of her gown made their progress slow and halting. They were out by the pool before she forced them to stop once more.

“I’m telling you the truth, JD. I know next to nothing about how to please a man. In fact, you’ll be the first naked male I’ve ever seen. If you don’t take Billy, when he was a baby, into account. What if we don’t fit? I’m not exactly tall or sturdy.”

JD decided a little friendly persuasion would calm her fears. He gathered her up into his arms. He teased the edges of her mouth open with his tongue. He began kissing her in a soothing, easy, non-threatening way. When he felt his desire rise and drive him to demand more of her, he stepped back. He was thoroughly gratified by her dazed expression.

“Sunny?”

“Yes?” she answered. “That was nice,” she added for his benefit.

“Nice?” Not exactly the response he’d been hoping for. “Nice?”

“Yes, nice. I felt safe.”

That was better. He wanted her to feel safe. Even though he knew he was going to hurt her, both when they made love the first time and when he left her in the morning. He didn’t want her afraid. Strange that he’d feel that way, when he’d never stopped to worry about a woman’s fear or lack of it before.

“You
are
safe. You don’t need to be anxious about pleasing me. You don’t have to dread anything we’ll do together tonight. You don’t need to think. You just need to feel.”

“I can do that JD. I trust you.”

She’d never know that her soft affirmation hit him with the force of a sledgehammer. She trusted him? He’d learned to never trust anyone. Especially not a woman he was about to bed. Especially not some small-town girl who’d managed to keep her virginity until she was twenty-three-freaking-years-old. He felt just as much an old letch as his father had been.

“I’m thirty-three, Sunny.”

For some asinine reason he felt like she should know he was ten years older than she was. He was ten years physically older, but eons older as far as sexual experience was concerned.

“OK,” she said.

Why was he telling her how old he was, Sunny wondered? Did he think that would make a difference? It wouldn’t, not to her. He was JD. It wouldn’t have mattered if he was ninety-five. She loved him.

“I’ve not been… as discriminating over the years as you’ve been.”

Damnation, he cursed himself. What are you doing McIntyre? Trying to run her off?

“I know you’re not a virgin JD. If that’s what you’re trying to say.”

He gritted his teeth. “That is
not
what I’m saying. Don’t put words in my mouth. It’s just that, well, a nice girl like you… maybe you deserve a man who’s cleaner… shit, I don’t know why I’m rambling like this.” He shut his mouth. But he did know. It bothered him to think about her ending up feeling used. It bothered him a lot. “If you want to back out, I’ll understand.”

Sunny came closer to him. She smoothed an errant lock of black hair away from his eyes. “I don’t. I want you to be my first.” My only, the sober voice in her head corrected. “I trust you JD. You won’t hurt me. You said so, and I believe you.”

“I lied,” he said.

“What?”

“I lied. When I breech your maidenhead, it’ll be painful. There’s no way to stop that. And you’ll bleed. Not a lot, but enough.” He swore under his breath. He wondered where all this impulsive honesty and integrity were coming from.

Sunny cocked her head. She let her dress dip low over her cleavage and walked her fingers up his chest. She gave him a sultry female look as old as Eve in the Garden of Eden.

“Then I guess you’re just going to have to figure out a way to distract me, when the time comes. Can you do that, cowboy?”

JD’s grin was more than a little cocky as he looked down at her. “Yes Ma’am, I can.”

“So where, exactly, is your bedroom?”

“We’re almost there,” he answered.

Within a few more steps they were at his door. It was more of an apartment than just a bedroom, this place where he lived. It was detached from the main house. It was a large stucco bungalow. JD opened the door for her.

She stepped inside. Sunny was astounded by her surroundings. The place, rightfully, had the look of an old-money Texas homestead. There was a rock fireplace with what she was sure was an original Remington hanging above it. There was a massive four poster topped with a crocheted canopy. And there was a desk under a shuttered window. Two comfortable companion chairs flanked the hearth. Intricate Native American rugs were scattered over the hardwood floors. The whole apartment was masculine and tasteful.

JD turned a lamp on beside the bed. “There’s a bathroom in there if you want to shower.” He indicated a closed door.

“Shower?” she asked terrified. “Together?” Sunny was back to feeling shy and unsure again.

JD shook his head, taking pity on her. “No, you can have all the privacy you want. I’ll just stay out here and get a few things done. Do you want some wine? I’ve got a nice Shiraz. I can open a bottle and let it breathe while you’re bathing.”

She nodded dumbly. Where was all that wonderful bravado she’d possessed a few steps from his door? Apparently it had deserted her.

“Do you have anything I could change into? Maybe something another woman left here?” she croaked.

He looked at her a long, long time before he answered. His eyes were as somber as his words. “I’ve never brought another woman here, Sunny.”

“But surely Leanne…,” her voice tapered off.

“I don’t ever discuss my sexual partners, Sunny,” he chided. “But I will tell you this is my refuge. The only place in the world where I can be truly alone. My life is very structured, but not very private. I work hard. And I play hard. But I do neither in this space.”

“So no one’s ever slept with you here?” She looked over at the impressive bed. Piled high with creamy linen, it was both inviting and decadent.

“No one.”

“Thank you JD,” she whispered.

She knew what a gift he was giving her. He could have taken her to any one of the many suites or guest rooms in the rambling McIntyre homestead. Instead, he’d brought her here, to his true home. The mansion was just window dressing. This small, elegant apartment was where John Deacon really lived. And the fact that he was willing to share it with her mattered.

The night to come would be life altering for Sunny. When dawn broke over the prairie the next day, she’d be a different person. She promised herself she’d have no regrets. She vowed to savor every second she spent with him. In the morning, she’d get up, pack her things, and get Billy home to Sea Glass Point. But this night, this wonderful surreal night, would be hers to cherish and relive over the long lonely years to come.

Her thanks humbled the man standing there watching the light from that solitary lamp play over the gold-shot length of her hair. He shrugged out of his coat. He let it drop to the floor. Then JD methodically began to unbutton his pin-tucked shirt. He watched as her eyes got bigger and bigger. When the last button was pulled free, he eased it off his shoulders. He approached her as a man might a frightened woodland animal. He held it out to her.

“Here, you can wear this when you get out of the shower.”

Sunny had seen actors in movies without their shirts. She’d seen plenty of guys on the beach in much less than JD wore. But she’d never seen such a glorious display of masculine beauty in her whole life. The sun-darkened skin of his smooth chest rippled and knotted with packed muscle as he held the shirt out. A fine, black line of hair started below his navel and traveled down his taunt abs. It disappeared into the waistband of his pants. She studied the sexy McIntyre brand tattoo he had inked high on the slab of muscle over his heart. Apparently he’d toed off his shoes and socks while she’d been delighting in the room. Because his bare feet made not a sound as he ambled closer to her.

“Sunny?”

“What?” She couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was a living, breathing work of sensual art.

“Take the shirt. Relax in a hot shower. Don’t rush back. We have all night. I’ll get the wine ready.”

“Good, fine, I’ll go take a shower.”

“Don’t start over thinking while you’re in there,” he instructed. “There’s no need for you to ramp up your anxiety. I promise I’m not going to jump on you the first minute you come out. We’ll have a glass of wine. We’ll talk. ”

“Right…, I’ll…  I’ll just go take my shower now.”

He smirked as he watched her march off towards the bathroom with all the enthusiasm of a condemned prisoner. He didn’t know why he found her so freaking adorable. Not adorable in a childish way. Adorable in a
he wanted to know everything about her
way. Feisty one second and terrified of something as natural as sex the next, Sunny Murphy was a puzzle. One he intended upon solving during the night to come.

In the bathroom, Sunny was swiftly assailed with every kind of doubt. She strode up and down the length of the room several times worrying her lip. She leaned her hot cheek against the cool, slick surface of the mirror. When the black evening gown became too much of a burden, she peeled it and her shoes off. The necklace followed. She twisted her hair up in a messy bun. She turned on the spigots in the shower. Instantly the small space began to fill with fog. Setting her mind to the task, she plunged under the stinging spray. Using his soap felt too intimate, which was stupid, she thought. She was about to let the man join his body with hers. Sharing a bar of soap was nothing in comparison. She took the fat French soap in her hands. It smelled amazing. She worked up an impressive lather and proceeded to wash every square inch of her body, three times. There were some occasions when a girl just couldn’t be too clean. This night qualified as one of them. Toweling off after her bath, she wished she had her toothbrush. Rummaging through a drawer rewarded her with a tube of toothpaste. Squirting some on her finger, she scrubbed her teeth.

She put on JD’s shirt and was completely awash in his scent. Sandalwood, lemon, and man made a mighty fine perfume. The thing fell to her knees. Strangely, she liked that. It made her feel covered. She took her time rolling the sleeves up until they hit her forearms. She let her hair down from its knot. She spent a little time fluffing it. When she could delay the inevitable no longer, she stepped out of the steamy bathroom.

The view confronting her was no less steamy. JD had lit a multitude of candles. He had them stationed around the room on almost every flat surface. He stood by the fireplace, still clad only in his pants. But now they rode low on his lean hips. A glass of deep red wine dangled from one lazy hand.

“I hope you don’t mind, I started without you.” He tipped his dark head towards the glass where the subtle movement of his hand caused the rich wine to rotate in lazy circles.

“No, of course,” she answered in a nervous, high-pitched voice.

“Ahh,” he mused aloud, prowling towards her like a big lazy cat. “You’ve been worrying again.”

“Not exactly,” she defended herself. But she had been. She’d spent the entire time she was in that dratted bathroom drowning in a sea of anxiety.

He lifted the glass and took a long drink. He arched one eyebrow. “There’s still time for you to run.”

Sunny bristled at his words. “I don’t run from anything.” Though her headlong escape to Texas with Billy certainly made a liar of her.

“In that case, why don’t you join me with a glass of wine?”

He went to over to the mantel. The wine bottle and another glass sat there waiting for her. JD poured her some Shiraz and put it next to a candle on the table between the companion chairs. He waited, standing, as she bridged the short distance and seated herself.

“You look lovely wearing my shirt,” he commented.

A hot surge of male possession lit his eyes as he took his time perusing her. His body began to alter, as it always did in her presence. He noted the way the shirt’s open collar rose and fell with each of her rapid breaths. He saw the way her hand clenched around the bowl of the wine glass as if it was a lifeline. He noticed how she’d tucked one long leg under the other on the seat of the chair to make herself look taller.

“The wine is good,” she said after taking a very miniscule sip.

“It’s not as good as the Krug 1928 we had for lunch. But then it’s about twenty-one thousand dollars cheaper.” He waited for the eruption he knew was coming.

“That bottle of champagne was worth twenty-one thousand dollars?” she sputtered aghast.

“A little over that actually.” He drank from his glass once again.

“What is wrong with you people? Are you all insane?” she ranted, her fear forgotten. “I could put a new roof on Maude Evelyn’s house for that amount of money. I could buy a new car. I could set up a college fund for Billy. And you let us just drink it all away at lunch?”