So when he again swept his tongue against the
inside of her lower lip, she moaned low in her throat.
When he moved inside and brushed against her, let
ting her taste him, feel him, dance with him, she
respond with an intensity that was as foreign to her
as the fiery need spiraling through her.
She kissed him deeply, matching each thrusting
stroke with one of her own. When he moved his
hands from her back to her rear, she arched against
him, flattening her belly against an impressive hard
ness.
They both strained to get closer and closer still.
Heads tilting, tongues mating, hands roving, they
gasped and kissed and nipped and surged.
She traced the length of his spine, then felt his
high, tight rear end. As her fingers dug into his flesh,
his arousal flexed against her stomach. He slipped
his hands to her hips, then to her waist. At the same
time, he pulled away from her mouth and instead
began to kiss her jaw, her neck, then that sweet spot
right below her ear. He licked the sensitive skin and
while she was still caught up in the pleasure, he
sucked on her ear lobe. At the same moment, his
hands closed over her sensitized breasts.
She had to bite her lip to keep from screaming.
Long fingers cupped her curves, while his thumbs and forefingers caressed her hard, aching nipples. Need raced through her. Need and desire and long
ing for more. She wanted to tear off her clothes, and
his. She wanted him to take her right there, on the
counter. She wanted it hard and fast, her legs spread,
him buried deep, thrusting and thrusting until they
both lost control in a shuddering release.
“
Nash," she breathed and reached for the buttons
on his shirt.
He grabbed the hem of her sweater and started to
tug. Right then, there was a loud creak from
overhead.
Stephanie knew it was just the old house settling
as the night temperature dropped, but it was enough
to remind her of the fact that they really
were
in her
kitchen and that she had three children sleeping up
stairs. She stiffened slightly. Nash read the signal
for what it was and immediately stepped back.
His face was flushed, his eyes dilated, his mouth damp from their kisses. He looked like a man more
than ready for a walk on the wild side. She had a
feeling she looked just as ...aroused.
Just don't think about how long it's been since
you had sex, she told herself. The reality would be
too depressing for words.
In the silence of the kitchen, their breathing
sounded loud and unnaturally fast. Nash recovered
enough to speak first. Or maybe he wasn't as ner
vous as she was.
“
I haven't kissed anyone in a while," he said, his
voice thick with passion and slightly wry. "I don't remember it being like that." She had to clear her throat before speaking. "Me, neither."
“You okay?" She nodded.
“Want me to apologize?" he asked.
“
No. Not unless you're sorry." Oh, please, not
that. She couldn't stand that.
His dark eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. "Not even close."
He raised his hand toward her, then dropped it
back to his side. "I'd better head upstairs before...
Well, before we start at it again."
She didn't want him to go, but she knew it was
for the best. Ah, maturity. Why was it never as much fun as acting like an irresponsible kid?
“
Sleep well," he said as he turned to leave.
"Unlikely," she said before she could stop her
self.
He glanced at her and grinned. "Tell me about it."
Chapter Seven
Stephanie thought about looking at the clock, but
the first time she'd checked it had been about ten to
four in the morning. She doubted it was much past
four now. Although she'd managed to doze on and
off for a few hours, she'd spent most of the night
alternating between reliving the incredible kiss she
and Nash had shared and pulling the pillow over her
face to muffle her shrieks of embarrassment.
What had she been thinking?
Had
she been think
ing?
No, she told herself. She hadn't been thinking at
all. She'd been reacting. She'd been feeling and
touching and wanting. Not thinking.
If she'd taken the time to consider her actions, she never would have allowed herself to respond
with such wanton abandon. She'd been crazed with passion—a new experience for her. Her feelings of
need had spiraled out of control in less than ten sec
onds of first contact. What did that say about her?
Stephanie didn't have an answer. In all the years
she and Marty had been married she'd never felt so
needy. So alive. So desperate.
“
Desperate?" she murmured into the night.
She didn't like the sound of that. It made her think
of pitiful people doing inappropriate things without considering the consequences.
Oh, like wanting to do it right there on the
counter, next to the batch of cookie batter?
She pulled the pillow over her face and groaned.
She wasn't desperate, she told herself forcefully.
If she was desperate, she would be out eyeing all
the single fathers in town. She'd met a few at school
events. A couple had even asked her out. While she'd appreciated the invitations, nothing about
them had sent her into sexual spasms the way Nash
did. She'd thought they were nice, pleasant men
who didn't tempt her in the least. She'd found it
tragically simple to remember that she absolutely
didn't want to get involved again because a rela
tionship with a man meant taking on more respon
sibility. Thanks but no thanks.
With Nash it was different. She found it far too
easy to forget her rules and instead focus on how
the man looked as he walked through a room. She
could spend an embarrassing amount of time think
ing about his mouth, his voice, his hands. And all that was
before
he'd kissed her. Now that she had
actual evidence of the potential, she could easily
spend the better part of her day considering the sex
ual possibilities. They could
Stephanie sat up in bed and clicked on the lamp
on her nightstand.
“
Snap out of it," she whispered aloud. "You're
a mature, responsible woman with a successful busi
ness and three kids. You have more guests arriving
in a few days, summer vacation starting at the end
of the week and laundry multiplying like rabbits.
You simply cannot waste your days thinking about
making love with Nash Harmon. It's not right. It's
not healthy. It's not likely to happen."
The last was the most tragic, she thought as she
flung herself back on the bed. If only he would creep
into her room in the dead of night and take advan
tage of her. If only he would –
She sat up again, but this time it wasn't to give
herself a stem but useless talking-to. Instead her
mouth dropped open as a horrifying thought oc
curred to her.
She and Nash had kissed. Right there in her
kitchen. It had been painfully real and erotic and
incredible and wow. But she didn't know why he'd
done it or if he was going to regret it come morning.
Regardless, she was going to have to face him and
act as if nothing had happened. She was going to
have to pretend not to be affected by his presence
or his voice, and she was going to have to act that
way in front of her children.
She moaned, then rolled onto her side and hugged
the pillow close. Why hadn't she thought that part
through before she'd allowed herself to come un
glued in his arms? What if
he
was having second
thoughts? What if he thought she was some sex-
starved freak and all he wanted was to pack his bags
and move out? What if he was laughing at her? Each thought was more awful than the one before.
Stephanie endured the potentials for humiliation for
as long as she could, then gave up and threw back
the covers. She wasn't going to lie here for another
couple of hours, looking for trouble. With her luck,
it would come looking for her, regardless of her
opinion on the matter. Better to face the day with a
smile and a happy heart.
She crossed to her bathroom and clicked on the
light. It was worse than she thought.
In
addition to
spiky hair and pale skin, she had bags the size of
carry-on luggage under her e
y
es. Scratch that start
ing-the-day-with-a-smile stuff. She was going to
have spend the next hour with a cold compress un
der her eyes.
Nash heard footsteps on the stairs shortly after
five that morning. He figured it was probably Steph
anie getting an early start to her day. While he
wanted to get up and join her in whatever she might
have planned, he didn't think she would appreciate
the interruption.
Instead he continued to sit in the tufted chair in
front of the window and stare out at the faint hint
of light on the eastern horizon.
He felt good. Hell of a thing to admit, but it was
t
rue. Life coursed through his body. Desire rumbled
just below the surface and threatened to surge back
into existence at any moment. Interest prickled at
the edges of his mind. He no longer wanted to get
lost in his job—instead he was making plans, anticipating.
When had that happened? It wasn't all about the
kiss and his reawakened sexual need. Oh, sure, he
wanted Stephanie. All she had to do was name the
time and place and he would be there. But this feel
ing inside was about something more.
Was it finding out about his family? Was it a
combination of things? Was it that he'd finally be
forced to look up from his work long enough to
remember there was a world out here? Did it matter? As he stared out the window, he had a sudden
flashback to what she'd felt like in his arms. How
her body had yielded to his. Curves to hard planes.
She'd smelled so damn good. His fingers flexed as
he recalled the feel of her breasts and how she'd
moaned when he'd brushed against her tight nipples.
His body reacted quickly and predictably. Nash
chuckled as blood sprinted to his groin. The ache
there thickened until it bordered on uncomfortable,
but that was okay with him. Feeling all of this beat
feeling nothing, and he'd been feeling nothing for a
long time.
Since well before Tina's death.
He closed his eyes against the growing light. He didn't want to think about her. Not today. He didn't
want to live in the past or wonder what he could
have done differently. He just wanted to be.
Life beckoned. He heard the call, felt the stirring
inside himself. Was he going to answer? Was it
safe? He opened his eyes and considered the question.
There were no guarantees. He'd always known, but
Tina's death had reminded him in an ugly way. Join
ing the rest of the world would mean taking risks.
He could never forget that he had to stay in control.
He couldn't risk letting that go, not even for a
second.