She gave up and let him lead.
He moaned his encouragement as his hands slid over the silk of her bra. Carefully, expectantly, he cupped the weight of her breasts in his palms. His thumb stroked across the feverish, aching peak of her nipple. Lucy pressed closer to him, arching her back to push her breasts into his caress.
“Lucy, baby, you’re wearing way too many clothes,” he murmured. He unclipped her bra, dragging the straps slowly down her arms. His eyes gleamed appreciatively as he pushed the last of the fabric away and his hands touched her bare skin.
“Shit, Lucy.” His voice was rough and laden with barely contained desire. He reared up to fasten his mouth around one turgid nipple.
Lucy groaned, her fingers digging into his scalp to pull him closer. The heat was nearly unbearable as he drew her nipple into his mouth, running his teeth lightly over the sensitive flesh. He palmed the other breast, kneading the fullness as his thumb flicked over the peak.
She writhed against him, loving the feel of how hard he was against the juncture of her thighs.
He swapped breasts, suckling gently and then harder until she was arching against him, panting his name like a litany. Lucy had never thought her breasts particularly sensitive, but she could come from this alone.
“Richard!” His name was a gasp. “Please?”
“Still too many clothes.” He flipped her over onto her back. His hands made short work of the clasp of her jeans. Grabbing the jeans and her panties, he tugged them off impatiently. He grabbed her by one ankle and lifted her leg slowly and reverently.
“These legs of yours drive me fucking crazy.” He pressed a soft bite against her calf. He laid her leg back on the bed, sliding his palms from ankle to thigh on both of her legs until he reached the jut of her hipbone.
His hands slid over the ridge and onto the softer skin of her stomach, easing up her ribcage until he cupped her breasts again. “All of you drives me fucking crazy.”
“Richard.” Lucy shifted impatiently beneath him.
He moved over her until they lay chest-to-chest and toe-to-toe. Heat flared everywhere as naked flesh fused to naked flesh. He pressed nibbling, wet kisses along her neck and jaw, breathing in the scent of her deeply as he went. His hands shifted under her back until he cupped her ass again, pressing her against the jutting length of his cock.
It wasn’t enough and Lucy’s body writhed against him impatiently as his mouth moved to hers and continued its deep, relentless kisses. Heat uncoiled through her belly, feverish and restless.
“Please?” Her body ached for him.
“Tell me, Lucy,” he whispered against her skin. “Tell me what you want.”
“You.” Lucy rolled her hips against him. “I want you, inside me, now.”
His eyes flared hotter.
She almost came at the first touch of his fingers on her slick flesh. He slipped his fingers into her, circling the swollen nub with his thumb. Responding to the demands of her moans and her writhing, but never giving in completely.
Her thighs dropped open for him as he settled between them. Soft, hot kisses down her ribcage almost made her weep with need. He pushed open her legs and blew against her slick, swollen flesh.
Lucy held her breath and then cried out as he fastened the heat of his mouth on her.
He tortured her with his mouth, sucking and licking and bringing her to the point of panting and crying with need. He took his time exploring and tasting the essence of her until Lucy wanted to scream. Her hands fastened in his hair, demanding his capitulation. And then he let her come, in one earth-shattering rush that began at her toes and constricted every muscle in her body.
She was dimly aware of him fumbling for a condom and putting it on. At that point she was glad he was thinking, because she was past it.
It had been a long time for Lucy and he was fully, gloriously aroused. Slowly and surely he eased into her, stretching her intimate passage to accommodate him.
He stopped when he was fully seated in her and propped his weight on his elbows. “Do you feel that?”
Lucy smiled and shifted beneath him. It was always like this with Richard. So right it made her want to cry.
She wrapped her legs behind his back and pulled him deeper. They were perfect together, like two pieces of a puzzle that fit seamlessly. For as long as she lived, Lucy wasn’t sure she would ever again feel this intense sensation of right.
Lucy let him take her with him. After her last orgasm she was sure she was done, but already her core tightened. She moved with him, feeling the depth and hardness of each thrust, driving them both forward. Sweat slicked their skin as their bodies writhed and ground together until Lucy’s climax quickened within her.
Richard pushed faster and deeper, his eyes locked with hers.
The stark intimacy caught in her throat. It was only her and Richard, together, as if crafted for each other.
He located the tight bundle of nerves screaming for his attention.
It didn’t take much, she was more than ready and Lucy shattered into a thousand pieces.
He was right behind her. He gave a hoarse shout as he came with her, collapsing against her.
Hot tears pricked behind her eyelids. Lucy pressed her face into his shoulder, not wanting him to see how shaken she was. Perfect. One moment of intense, rapturous happiness that she had no words to express, only tears that she instinctively knew she couldn’t shed.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Richard woke to unadulterated Lucy. And for a moment, he stopped and gloried in the rush of sensations. The smell of her was bone deep on him. That bit of sugar and spice that made him want to sit up and beg.
Her breath huffed heavy and moist against his neck. A spark of sensation shot from that point straight into his groin. He was already hard enough to tent the bedclothes and more blood rushed to answer the call of nature with each accelerating beat of his heart.
She lay half on his chest, her face buried against his neck and her thigh imprisoning him. He could have stayed like that forever.
Holy shit!
The thought stopped the blood flow and just about stopped his heart.
Just sex, he’d promised himself, just sex and just this once, to get her out of his system. A carnal exorcism that would answer all the questions in his horny brain every time he looked at her. He had badly miscalculated. It had never, ever been just sex between them. It was so, so much worse now he knew how good they could be. And they had been unmitigated magic together.
Even better than when they were kids.
She was doing it again. Invading every facet of his being and Richard panicked. There was no other word for the heart-pounding rush of adrenaline that had him sliding out from under her and almost sprinting for the bathroom.
His reflection in the mirror stared back at him accusingly.
“You idiot,” he told it. She had almost killed him when she left with Jason. Med school exams had kept him numb and too focused to feel for a few weeks and then it had all fallen apart. He still remembered weeping like a baby as his mother held him. The memory tightened his jaw and he reached for the familiar anger to sustain him.
It wasn’t there. The anger was gone.
Fuck, fuck, fuck! Don’t lose it, Richard.
The anger was an old friend; it pushed him forward when he wanted to run and hide. The anger had kept him alive for awhile there and now it was gone. It was the vital wellspring from which he drew his formidable will. Just like that, it had disappeared.
Richard didn’t even want to think what had taken its place. He only knew he needed to get Lucy and her warmth and light out of his bed and out of his house. He crept back into the bedroom.
She was still sleeping. Her beautiful hair tangled in a mass around his pillows. She looked like she belonged there.
Softly, he released his caught breath.
He needed time to get his shit together. He slipped into the hallway and made his way down the stairs to the kitchen.
What a fucking mess.
Coffee would get his head working again.
She didn’t stir until he was back in the room with his peace offering. Watching Lucy wake up tested his resolve. She blinked into consciousness, like a sweet, sleepy kitten. Her face was all pink and rumpled from sleep and a soft smile played around the corners of her beautiful mouth.
He had never watched her wake up before. He had never watched any woman wake, not even his wife of seven years. Ashley hit the day running. She hated hanging around in the bed and would be up and moving before he’d cracked an eyelid. It had never bothered him. He had never thought anything missing until right now, watching Lucy unfold into wakefulness like a butterfly.
“Hi.” Lucy’s voice, husky with sleep, tugged at him. She rubbed her eyes before she spotted him sitting by the bedside.
He braced for what needed to be done and pushed the cup of coffee toward her.
Lucy gave him a huge, goofy smile and reached for the cup.
The sheet slipped giving him a glimpse of her breasts before she tugged it back up and restored her modesty. It was like bolting the barn door after somebody had blown the rest of the building away. The image of her was already seared into his being.
His body was not on board with his brain right then.
Forget about it,
whispered his treacherous libido.
You can deal with all that feeling crap later. Climb back into that bed and go and get some more of what we liked so much last night.
“Mmm,” she murmured appreciatively as she took a sip from her mug. “And he makes a great cup of coffee.” Her green eyes danced at him over the rim as she invited him to share the joke. And damn him if he didn’t want to. Richard squashed the desire ruthlessly.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but I have early-morning appointments.”
Her eyes danced and her lips twitched. She thought he was joking.
Richard saw the exact moment she realized he wasn’t and his gut twisted. The hurt that flashed momentarily through her beautiful face boomeranged right back at him. Christ, he was being deliberately cruel. The notion did not sit well at all, but he ignored the desire to retreat and clenched his jaw. This was for the greater good.
“What I mean is, I have to get going. You are welcome to stay, have a shower, and let yourself out, but I need to get to work.”
She held up a hand to stop him and Richard tensed.
Her face had lost all traces of honey and love now. “I think I understand what you mean.” She put the cup carefully on the bedside table and frowned at it. “You want to tell me what’s going on, Richard?”
“Nothing’s going on.” He avoided making eye contact. “I have a busy day ahead and—”
“Stop.” Flash-fire emotion did an advance and retreat across her face.
“Ah, Lucy.” He got to his feet quickly, discomfort twisting him around and around. “Let’s not do this, all right?”
Her face remained set and impossible to read.
His confidence wavered. This was not the Lucy he remembered. No screaming and no tantrums, he could deal with those. He was an expert at meltdowns. Lucy looked at him from her adult, woman eyes and saw right through his bullshit. It was a terrifying experience.
He stumbled about for the right words to, at least, soothe her feelings. “Last night was amazing.”
God. So lame.
Could he get any lamer than that? He felt his rear engine catch fire and the alarm started blaring at him. He was going down. “But it shouldn’t have happened
.
”
Mayday, Mayday.
Flames shot out behind him. “It was a mist—”
She exploded into action.
Richard hopped back.
“Don’t you
dare.
” She flung back the covers and leapt from the bed.
Curse him to hell and back, but he was not blind to the fact that she was naked. He wished to God he’d thought to put on something more substantial than a bath towel.
“Don’t you dare say it was a mistake,” she yelled at him as she hunted around for her clothes. “Don’t you dare say that. It’s such a damn cop-out.”
“Lucy.” He went for a reasonable tone, feeling like the world’s dumbest ass. “It shouldn’t have happened. It was a mistake.”
“Mistake,” she shrieked as she snatched up her panties from the floor beside the bed. Her breasts bounced and jiggled, distracting him, as she wriggled into her underwear. “A mistake is when you burn the roast or stub your toe on the furniture. That’s a mistake. What happened between us has been in the cards since I first arrived back in town.”
She rummaged around and located her bra. She covered her beautiful flesh, but it didn’t help. His cock twitched and swelled. Richard lowered his hands and prayed she didn’t notice.
“Shit.” She hauled on her jeans. “You and I have never gotten out of each other’s systems. Me coming back here proved that. I’ll tell you what happened, Richard.” She spied her shirt and pounced. “You had time to think about it and now you’re trying to backpedal for all you’re worth.”
She’d managed to yank her T-shirt and sweatshirt over her head, but to his chagrin it didn’t help lower the situation with the towel.
“You feel things for me and you don’t bloody like it. But that does not negate what happened here.” She made a furious motion with her hand to encompass the room. “What happened last night was no mistake. The fact that you regret it now doesn’t change that.”
She was all flushed and passionate with anger and it was like a red flag to his lust.
She dropped to her knees and ferretted under the bed. Her ass waved in the air at him as she dug around for her socks. Christ, he was a dog.
“Last night was incredible.” She snatched a sock from the tumbled linens. “It was amazing and earth shattering and you felt it too. All three times. It was as intense as when we were kids, only this time the sex was as mind blowing as the buildup. You can’t change that. No matter what bullshit you spout this morning.”
She came up at groin level and, of course, she noticed. His cock stood front and center and begged to be noticed.
Her eyes narrowed like a rattler. “You have got to be kidding me.”
He took a cautious step back and out of her reach.
“I can’t help it.” Now, he was whining like a kid.
“You’re pathetic.”
Richard winced, but he deserved that. He was pathetic.
“You wanted me badly enough to go for it yesterday. You certainly weren’t fighting it last night. Now, you wake up this morning and you know what, Richard, you’re scared. I rocked your world and you’re running scared.”
She was bang on the money, but male pride demanded he defend his position. “I am not scared. I don’t think it was a good idea.”
“Your dick disagrees with you,” she snapped back.
It was pointless to defend that and Richard stood there. Her footsteps clattered down the stairs. A silence and then the house shuddered as she slammed the front door behind her.
Carl was in the kitchen when she stormed into her house about two minutes later. He sat on a kitchen stool like an expectant spider and watched the door. He’d been waiting for her, no question.
Lucy was already bruised by her encounter with Richard. Later, she had a nasty suspicion she was going to feel a whole lot worse, but for now, anger sustained her. Oddly enough, a trip around the mulberry bush with her father seemed like just the thing to keep her mind off the boy next door.
“So, you’re back.” There was no mistaking the glee in his eyes or the smug satisfaction oozing from his mouth.
There didn’t seem any point to replying, so Lucy picked up the kettle and put it on the gas. “Would you like some tea?”
“I’ve already had some,” he said, grinning at her. “Just getting in?”
Again, was there any point to replying? She got the tea bags out and put one in a mug.
His eyes tracked every move she made.
She ran out of things to do with her hands, so she leaned her hips against the kitchen counter and folded her arms over her chest.
He stared right at her. “You had to do it, didn’t you, Lucy?”
Lucy kept her expression neutral.
This was where she was supposed to ask what he meant. That would give him the opening to go on and on and on, in exquisite detail, about whatever bug he currently had up his ass. More games to make her morning complete.
Yay.
All games made her sick. Men made her sick and men playing games made her want to throw up, right here and right now. She glared at the silent brick edifice next door.
Last night had not been a mistake. It had been fucking glorious. She never wanted it to end, but it had. With a great, big thump this morning. Richard had not behaved like Richard. Not the Richard she had in her mind, anyway. He’d been disappointingly human this morning when she needed a hero. Had he always worn shining armor in her version of him? Well, be that as it may, he’d certainly come tumbling off his white charger this morning.
Carl still watched her expectantly. It was laughable how low order his needling was right now. “Where’s Mom?” she asked instead.
“Upstairs.” He managed to sneer the word, not ready to let it go without another few good tries to get her all riled up. Richard was so many steps ahead of him. “Wondering where her precious girl has got to.”
“Oh, really?” She was ice. She was cold. She was cool as a cucumber as the taunts bounced right off her. Goddamn it, she was titanium. She went to the kitchen door and called up, “Mom, I’m home. I’m making tea, do you want any?”
Lucy waited for an answer. Silence.
“She was worried about you.” Carl played the guilt card. “She didn’t sleep at all, but I am sure you didn’t let that bother you at all.”
“I’m thirty years old, Dad.” Lucy saw his guilt and raised it.
“Does that mean you can’t use a phone?”
“No.” Lucy could feel the mud coming up around her ankles and starting to suck. “I am sorry for that and you are absolutely right. I should have called so you wouldn’t worry.”
“I didn’t say I was worried, I said your mother was.”
My mistake then.
“I should have called to let Mom know I wouldn’t be home.”
Silence howled through the kitchen as she made her tea. When she was through being mad she was going to want to cry, but for now she would settle for the tea and a shower.
“Your mother didn’t know where you were,” Carl continued pedantically. “But I knew.”
“Uh-huh.” The sharp stain of tea spread through the water in her mug.
“You were with him.” Carl jerked his head toward the house. “You couldn’t stay away from him, could you?”
The answer to that one was painfully and pathetically obvious. She stared into her cup as the tea steeped.
“You were always like that when he was around. I used to watch you.” Carl’s voice twisted with malice. He leaned forward onto the counter, as if he could push the words at her more forcefully. “You were pathetic.”
Lucy almost flinched and then it struck her that she didn’t need to. The comment stung, but didn’t wound. Where once that statement would have been a sword through her heart, today it was a bug bite. She looked at her father over the rim of her teacup. She saw a bitter, old man who would be right at all costs. A little part of her brain disconnected and shut down. Honesty compelled her to admit that where Richard Hunter was concerned, she was still a little pathetic.