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You Say It First

Page 39

   


She fell into her release. Muscles clenched and released in that moment of perfection. Nick continued to touch her, going slower and lighter until he was barely stroking her. As the last quiver faded, he shifted his hands so he could insert two fingers into her.
She opened her eyes and found him watching her.
“Nice.”
“I believe I’m the one who’s supposed to say that,” she told him. “Although I would have gone with spectacular.”
He smiled. “I’ll take that.”
He moved in and out of her. She would have thought she was satiated, but instead found herself moving her hips in time with his hand. He pushed in a little deeper and touched a spot that made her breath catch.
“There it is,” he murmured. “How about this?”
She had no idea what “this” was until he began to move his finger in a slow circle deep inside her. The sensation was unlike anything she’d experienced before. Arousing in a sort of less intense, but more pleasurable way. As if when she came, she would be in a state of bliss for hours. Or days.
The more he circled, the more she sank into sensations that filled her body. The more he moved, the less control she had. Her breathing increased, then turned to pants. It wasn’t like before where she could push and strain to her release. She couldn’t will herself to come—it had to be drawn out of her.
She opened her legs wider. She pushed her hips forward. She was close to begging and pleading because she was totally at his mercy. His gaze locked with hers. Everything about what they were doing was so intimate—she was exposed in every way possible on the verge of an orgasm and he could see it all. Yet she couldn’t look away or close her eyes or stop her body from moving closer and closer.
He kept his pace steady, circling and circling. She knew she was close, although she had no idea what it was going to be like when she finally—
Her body shuddered as she fell over the edge. The ripples started from deep within and moved out. Everything was different, stronger, more intense, yet slow. She cried out—feeling pleasure and a sense of being out of control. She found herself wanting to scream and maybe cry and certainly hold on.
Her orgasm went on for what felt like hours but was probably only a minute or two. As the sensations faded, he withdrew his fingers, then turned away. She lay there, trying to get control, trying to recapture the essence of who she had been before he’d done that to her, then he was back and kneeling between her legs.
He filled her even more fully than she’d hoped. She’d thought she might be sensitive and sore, but instead, having him inside of her was exactly what she needed. She wrapped her legs around his hips and clung to his arms as he began the age-old dance of making love with her.
He moved in and out, claiming her. Their eyes locked. This time he was the one who was vulnerable, the one who let her see him getting closer. She could feel the tension in his body, hear his rapid breathing. She followed him on the journey, and as he got closer, she pulled him in more, wanting to take all of him, be a part of everything they did.
He pushed deeper and harder, then lost himself in his release. She hung on to him, savoring the shudders that claimed him. He was unexpected in so many ways, she thought as he sighed, then kissed her.
“Who knew you found wedding disasters a turn-on,” he whispered.
She started to laugh, then found she couldn’t stop. He joined in. He rolled to his side and pulled her close, then kissed her again.
“How about we get some sleep?” he asked.
“I think that’s an excellent idea.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
PALLAS AWOKE SOMETIME in the afternoon to a handsome man kissing her shoulder. That kissing turned into a whole lot more and it was nearly three o’clock by the time they got out of her shower and managed to dress.
She was still feeling all kinds of aftershocks and tingles as she walked into the kitchen and started the coffeemaker. She glanced at the clock, turned the coffee off, then turned it back on. One cup shouldn’t keep her from sleeping that night. Besides, she needed the caffeine. There was so much to do.
She had to get to work and figure out what was what—postwedding. The catering staff should have tidied up before they left and the janitorial company she hired would have already been in to put away tables and chairs and clean the kitchen and bathrooms.
But first, she was starving and she would guess Nick was, as well. She found a box of mini quiches in the freezer and started the oven. There was also a half bag of sweet potato fries that cooked at the same temperature. She had a cantaloupe on the counter.
Nick strolled into the kitchen and drew her into his arms. She went easily, liking how they fit together.
“Morning,” he said, before glancing at the clock on her stove. “Or afternoon. You okay?”
She smiled. “I believe you were with me in the shower. While I’m not sure the word okay defines anything close to how I feel, I’m doing well, thank you.”
“Me, too.”
They smiled at each other.
She’d had a spare toothbrush for him, but not a razor he’d wanted to use, so he needed a shave. She rubbed her hands against the stubble.
“It’s a good look on you.”
“Makes me look dangerous, huh?”
She laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far, but it gives you an edge.”
“I’ll have to remember that when I want to get my sexy on.”
“Not something you need help with,” she admitted. At least not with her. She pointed to the food on the counter. “It’s an eclectic offering, but there are elements of breakfast. Or at least brunch.”
“Works for me. What do you want to do with the rest of the day?”
As in, did they want to spend it together? Happiness joined the tingles. Suddenly work didn’t seem the least bit important.
“I’d like to make sure Weddings in a Box is all locked up, but that’s the only thing I have to do,” she said. “What did you have in mind?”
“Maybe a movie, then dinner. After that we could go back to my place and—” His smile faded as he swore. “I live with my brother. I can’t take you back to my place. I don’t have a place.”
She held in a giggle. “Well, you are planning to go to Dubai, so it makes sense not to bother with an apartment of your own.”
“Still, it makes me feel like I’m eighteen and still living at home.”
“We’ll come back here. My bed seems to work for us.”
He drew her against him. “Everything about you works for me.”
“Nice to know.”
She put the food on a cookie sheet, slid it in the oven, then set the timer before returning to Nick’s embrace. He nibbled along her neck, then straightened and looked at her.
“Why aren’t you married?”
She tilted her head. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a sleepover, but I’m pretty sure that’s not an expected question for the morning after.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
Nick pressed his forehead to hers. “You’re beautiful, you’re smart, you’re funny, you’re a good person and you have a successful business. Obviously the problem isn’t you. So why aren’t you married?”
Was it wrong of her to want to replay the “you’re beautiful” part of his list? It was all good, but somehow that one was the most appealing. She supposed that made her shallow.