Thrill Me (19 page)

It was late. If he checked on his smartphone he could figure out how much time had passed since the astronomical twilight. Not that it mattered, but the thought of it made him smile.

He started the truck and headed toward the lake. At the light, he made a left turn, telling himself he wasn't going to stop. He was just going to drive by.

When he got to Maya's street, he slowed. Most of the houses were dark. It was still and quiet, with only a bit of moonlight filtering between the leaves of the trees. As he approached her house he saw the lights were on.

He pulled into her driveway and waited. Seconds later, her front door opened and she stood in the doorway. They stared at each other for a couple of heartbeats before he gave in to the inevitable.

There were a thousand reasons to walk away, but the need to be with her, to touch her and be touched was more powerful than any of them. He'd loved her once. Maybe that kind of intensity left a mark on a man. One that couldn't be erased by time and distance.

Maybe it was just who she was, or who he was when he was around her. Maybe the draw couldn't be explained. It simply was one of those strange laws of the universe.

He turned off the ignition and got out, then walked toward her. She stepped back into the house. He followed her inside and carefully closed the door behind himself.

She stood barefoot in a T-shirt and yoga pants. She'd washed off her makeup and her hair was long and loose. She looked as she had when he'd first met her. Young and sweet and sexy. He'd wanted her then—more than he'd ever wanted anyone else. That hadn't changed. He still wanted her. The difference was, now he knew exactly what to do to please them both. And he could last longer than fifteen seconds.

“Hey,” he murmured, reaching for her.

“Hey, yourself.”

She stepped into his embrace. Their arms came around each other. She was soft and smelled good. Even better, she fit. The right height, the right curves. When he was around her, he wanted her. He supposed in some ways he had always wanted her.

He lowered his head and kissed her. She met him more than halfway, her lips already parted. There was no way he could resist that, resist her. He eased his tongue inside her mouth and felt the familiar heat slam into him.

She wrapped her arms around him, squirming to get closer. He tilted his head so he could deepen the kiss. At the same time he ran his hands up and down her back.

She was the perfect combination of curves and softness. He dug his fingers into her butt, bringing her lower body up against his. He was already hard and ready. She pressed her pelvis against his erection, arousing him until thinking became difficult and there was only wanting.

He drew back so he could kiss his way along her jawline, then nibbled on her earlobe. He pressed his lips to the sensitive skin on the side of her neck. At the same time he reached for the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it over her head. By the time he was tossing it away, she was already undoing her bra.

The fabric fell away. He cupped her breasts in his hands, feeling the weight of them, the softness of her skin. He didn't get it. Men had skin and women had skin, but hers was a thousand times softer than his.

He shifted his fingers to her tight nipples. As he brushed his thumbs across the tips, her breath caught and her head fell back.

He wanted more of that, he thought as he lowered his head and captured her left nipple in his mouth. He wanted her gasping and panting, calling out. He wanted her naked and shuddering her release.

He remembered when they'd been together so many summers ago. They'd been so young. Inexperienced teenagers with more love than sense.

Hunger had burned hot and bright, and as they'd made out in the front seat of his car, he'd come in his jeans. He hadn't said anything and she hadn't realized. The darkness had concealed the telltale damp spot.

Later, when he'd finally seen her bare breasts, he'd had the same reaction. Touching them had been worse. He'd finally confessed, and she'd been nothing but fascinated by his body and how she affected him.

They'd progressed quickly from there, moving from the front seat to the backseat. Together they'd discovered what made her quiver. They'd found her clitoris together and learned what she liked. She'd learned how to stroke him to climax. Days later she'd gone down on him. A first for both of them.

The first time he'd come in her mouth, he'd thought he would die from the pleasure of it. He'd returned the favor and she'd screamed out her release. It had been weeks before they'd moved on. Weeks until they'd taken each other's virginity.

He remembered everything about that night. How she'd carefully lowered herself onto his erection, sliding down until he'd filled her. She'd already pleased him once, so he'd been able to hang on for all of thirty seconds before exploding inside of her.

They'd practiced together, finding the right rhythm. They'd mastered the art of bringing her right to the edge, then having him thrust so they came together. They'd made love in her bed out at the ranch, whispering their love, kissing deeply through their releases so there wasn't any sound.

Those old memories crowded up against current need. Del released her breasts and dropped to his knees. He pulled down her yoga pants and bikini panties in one quick tug. She'd barely stepped out of them when he gently parted her and pressed his mouth against the very heart of her.

Memories returned. Of how she liked an openmouthed kiss first. Soft, all lips. Then a light flick of his tongue—more teasing than passionate. He played until he felt tension start to tighten her muscles, until her breathing quickened. Only then did he settle down to a steady rhythm of moving his tongue against her clit. She grabbed the small entryway table behind her and hung on.

“Don't stop,” she begged.

Time fell away and he was that kid again. He would swear he could hear music from the car radio and feel the slick leather of the backseat. They'd had their favorite positions—ways to make a cramped space workable. Now there was a whole house for them to play in. Assuming he could pause long enough to leave the foyer.

Only he wasn't going to do anything but keep on pleasing her. How could he resist when she began to whimper? One of Maya's best qualities was there was no doubt about what was working for her. All the signs were there. He moved a little faster and she trembled. He sucked deeply and she groaned.

He continued to hold her open. Under his palms he felt the first telltale quivers of muscles preparing for her release. Her breathing quickened. She was so close and he was in control.

He slowed, just a little. He circled her with the very tip of his tongue, then flicked across the swollen nub. She gasped again. Behind her, the table shook against the wall.

“Del.”

Pleasure laced with anticipation in her voice.
Need
, he thought with satisfaction. He pressed his mouth against her clit and sucked. At the same time he pushed two fingers inside of her, then withdrew them before pushing in again. Her body contracted. He began to move his tongue against her, faster and faster until she cried out her release.

He felt her orgasm from the inside out. She tightened around his fingers, drawing him in deeper. He moved his tongue steadily, drawing out her pleasure. She moved her hips, grinding against him, taking it all. Her sharp, high-pitched cries brought him to the edge.

Just a few more seconds
, he told himself. That was all he had to hang on.

When the last shudders had faded, he started to stand. She surprised him by kneeling down next to him and undoing his jeans. He decided this was a good time to let her have her way with him and didn't protest when she jerked down the fabric, along with his boxers. His erection sprang free.

She pushed him onto his back. He lay on her entry carpet, mostly dressed, his dick sticking straight up. Maya straddled him, and he reached into the pocket of his nearby jeans for a condom.

She was flushed, naked and smiling that self-satisfied smile that made a man feel as if he'd conquered the world. He didn't get long to enjoy the feeling. As soon as she lowered herself onto him, he had other things on his mind. Like how tight and slick and warm she was. How he filled her. Of the aftershock that had them both groaning.

She reached for his hand and placed it between her thighs.

“Rub me.”

He was happy to oblige. She was still swollen and wet. He began to move his thumb against her. Then fumbled the movement as she reached her arms up to hold her hair on top of her head. Maybe under other circumstances, it wasn't a big deal, but somehow that simple movement exposed her whole body to him.

She began to move.

Del didn't know what to look at first. Her closed eyes and parted lips. Her bouncing breasts. Her spread legs and his thumb stroking her. It was live, sexy and he was feeling it all. Her riding him, up and down, up and down. The pressure building at the base of his dick, her thighs tightening as she got closer to coming again.

The muscles inside clamped around him. She began to move faster. She lowered her arms to her sides, but kept her head back. Her breasts kept time with their movements. He swore—this was the hottest show ever and he was going to ruin it all by coming. But damn, how was he supposed to hold on?

The change in her breathing caught his attention. He knew she was close. He forced himself to pay attention to how he touched her, doing it just how she liked. Her eyes opened and he watched her get closer and closer. When she was just a heartbeat away, he let go of his control and shoved all the way in.

They came together, gazes locked. She cried out, then massaged him with her body as he released himself in her. The world faded to just the two of them. Time shifted and bent, and he saw the kid he'd been with the girl she used to be.

She sagged down and he caught her. After pulling her against him, he hung on until they could both breathe again. Breathe, but not let go.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

M
AYA
TOLD
HERSELF
that throwing up in front of her class would not make a good first impression. Still, she couldn't help the case of nerves that had her hyperventilating as she drove to City Hall, where she would teach her first class in one of the community rooms.

She'd spent the past three nights coming up with her lesson plan. Del had helped and she thought she had a pretty decent handle on what she wanted to talk about. But she'd never actually taught a class before and wasn't sure what to expect. She supposed in a perfect world, no one would show up. That might hurt her feelings in the short-term, but at least then she wouldn't have to worry about screwing up.

She walked into the room and found there were already about a dozen people there, including Eddie and Gladys. Del, who had offered to be her assistant, was setting up equipment.

Eddie hurried over. “We told all our friends about your class. Everyone is very excited. Oh, and we told Del he has to work shirtless.”

Maya laughed. “What did he say?”

“He refused, but we're still working on him. It's not fair that you keep him all to yourself.”

“I'll mention that.”

She crossed to the front of the room. Del had unpacked several cameras and lenses, along with a second case with lights and tripods.

“Eddie wants you shirtless,” she told him.

“She said something about that.”

“I said I'd put in a good word for her.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

She tried not to smile. “Eddie has a point. I mean you're a pretty hot guy and I've been hogging you all to myself. That's hardly fair.”

“So now you're going to pimp me out?”

“Just a little. You know, above the waist.”

Humor brightened his dark eyes. “A side of you I never would have guessed.”

“Is that a no?”

“It is, and later, I'm going to have to punish you.”

She giggled. “In your dreams, big guy.”

“Promise?” He leaned close. “By the way, we have confirmation from the high school.”

“You heard from the drama teacher?”

“I did and she's excited about the project. She said her students are happy to give us as much feedback as we want. So I'm going to need your help with the questionnaire.”

“Of course. We can work on that tonight.”

One corner of his mouth turned up. “Don't think for a second I've forgotten about your punishment.”

“Never.”

She turned back to the class and realized that the ridiculous exchange had taken care of her nerves. At least the ones that made her want to barf. Now she was a little apprehensive, but in a good way.

She waited until one minute past the hour, then welcomed everyone to the class.

“Tonight we're going to talk about how to create a visually appealing video. Once you have conquered the technology so that your shots are in focus and well lit, there's a lot you can do to make them more interesting.”

She paused, half expecting Eddie or Gladys to make a crack about naked butts, but both women were busy taking notes. The sight of them scribbling away made her oddly happy.
This town
, she thought ruefully. Just when she thought there weren't any more surprises, she found herself playing teacher and liking it.

* * *

A
S
HIS
MOTHER
had promised, Del thought, Ceallach Mitchell's birthday was celebrated in style. The weather had cooperated, no doubt willed by his stubborn father. The sun was shining, the temperature warm enough that the sides of the tents could be rolled up, allowing the hundreds of guests to move easily through to all parts of the venue.

There were magnificent pieces of his father's work on display. Several slide shows highlighted other pieces of his work. Music played through speakers and waitstaff circulated with appetizers and champagne. There were foreign dignitaries, friends from town, other artists and plenty of reporters. Ceallach Mitchell was a big deal. Del sometimes forgot that, but today was a good day to be reminded.

“Mom owes us,” Aidan grumbled, snagging a glass of champagne from a passing tray. “Why did we have to get dressed up? We just did that for Zane's wedding.”

“I don't think one counts against the other.”

“It should.”

Not that it mattered. Elaine had been clear on the dress code. Given how much work the party had been to organize, he wasn't going to argue. On the bright side, the party meant Maya was dressed in some fitted dress with a low neckline. Talk about a great view. The dark red material looked soft. He planned to find out if that was true later. When he took her home.

They weren't living together, but he hadn't left her place since the evening of the family dinner. They made love over and over again, hanging on to each other as if they never wanted to let go. He wondered how much of the intensity was them and how much of it was knowing their time together was limited.

“Nice party.”

Del turned and saw his brother Mathias approaching. He was the more outgoing of the twins. Funny and charming, he always had a woman or five hanging on him. He and Aidan shared a love of variety, although Del was pretty sure Aidan would win the volume challenge.

“If you like this sort of thing,” Aidan grumbled. “What's with the suits?”

Mathias chuckled. “Let it go. Mom will kill you if you loosen that tie.”

“Why aren't you uncomfortable?”

“I look damn good in a suit,” Mathias pointed out. “Besides, I do this sort of thing all the time at the gallery. Charm the patrons. They want to see the artist, touch our magic.” He winked. “Trust me, letting them touch brings out the checkbooks.”

“While Ronan is in the back working?”

Mathias shrugged. “You know he's the dark, brooding one. He'd rather be alone with his art than meeting our clients.”

Del believed that. Ronan was the twin who kept to himself. He supposed the differences could be explained by the brothers being fraternal twins. No more connected than he and Aidan or Nick. Just as well. If they'd been identical twins, they would have been even more trouble.

“Ever wonder how Mom got through it all?” Del asked.

Mathias's humor disappeared as his gaze sharpened. He went completely still. “What are you talking about?”

“The five of us, so close in age. We were terrors. Was there a single piece of furniture we didn't destroy? I'm amazed we didn't set the house on fire.”

“Oh, that.” Mathias relaxed. “She was a patient woman. Of course, she had to be to put up with Dad.”

“How's he taking the news you're not moving back?”

Mathias sipped his champagne. “I think he's relieved. He doesn't want the competition.”

“That's harsh.”

“Maybe, but it's true. If Ronan and I were here, Dad couldn't ignore the attention we get from the press. The sons of the great Ceallach Mitchell take the art world by storm. With us far away, he can pretend it's not happening.”

“There's no storm,” Del teased. “Maybe a lonely cloud, but it'll pass.”

“Jealous much?”

“Not at all. I couldn't take the pressure of having to keep up.” Art had never been his thing. He didn't have the talent or the interest. Although he supposed his desire to make his videos could probably be traced to his father. Not that Ceallach would see what he did as anything worthwhile.

Maya strolled up to them. She moved close to Mathias and kissed his cheek in greeting.

“So many handsome Mitchell men. Whatever is a girl to do?”

Mathias grinned. “It's overwhelming.”

She pretended to fan herself, then linked arms with Del. “I'm sticking with this old guy. He's more my speed.”

Del frowned. “I'm searching for a compliment buried in there.”

“There isn't one, bro. Let it go.” Mathias turned to Maya. “I heard you're doing commercials these days.”

“It was a onetime thing, but very fun. How are you doing? Happily, Inc.? Is that the name of the town for real?”

“Yeah. It's got a great history. Back in the 1880s, a couple of stagecoaches of women were heading to gold rush country to find husbands. The stagecoaches broke down outside of our little town and the women were stuck. By the time new parts arrived, they'd all fallen in love with local guys. They decided to stay and lived happily ever after. One of their sons suggested the name change and it's been Happily ever since. Then in the 1950s, they changed it to Happily, Inc. No idea why.”

“I love it,” Maya told him. “I've heard it's beautiful. Desert, but with mountains. Aren't there rumors of some kind of mystical convergence? Like in Sedona?”

“We have the crazies,” Mathias said easily. “And we like them. Lots of weddings.” He winked. “It's a destination wedding town so if you ever get tired of Fool's Gold, come see us. You'll make a killing with your skills.”

“You're sweet to offer. I'll let you know.”

Mathias excused himself and moved away. Del looked at Maya.

“I thought you were settled here in Fool's Gold.”

“I am. Mostly.” She stepped away from him, then shifted to face him. “I'm wrestling with my future.” Her gaze skittered away from him. “It's kind of your fault. All your talk of your world travels is making me restless.”

He was surprised and pleased at the same time. “What are you going to do?”

“I have no idea. Nothing for now. When I didn't get the network job, I knew I had to make a change. Now I want to think about what's next. In the meantime, I like what I'm doing here.” She smiled. “Maybe you'll hire me to do your editing.”

“I'd like that.” He would like her with him more, but wasn't sure about asking. He'd never considered it before because he'd assumed Maya wanted to stay in Fool's Gold. But if she didn't, they had options. Options he would have to consider.

His mother hurried toward him.

“Ceallach is ready to make his speech,” she said. “We have to round up all the guests.” She sighed. “He's having a wonderful time. This is everything he wanted.”

Maya touched Elaine's arm. “How are you feeling?”

“Wonderful. Ceallach deserves to be celebrated. I'm so thrilled to have been a small part of this.”

Del started to point out that his mother was the reason there was a party, but Maya shook her head. He wasn't surprised she could read him—she'd always been good at that.

“Come on,” she told Elaine. “I'll walk you to the microphone and you can call everyone in.”

“Thank you.”

“I'll round up the stragglers,” Del promised.

He watched them walk away. Maya seemed protective of his mother, which he appreciated. He started guiding guests toward the front tent, where there was a stage set up. Aidan joined him. When the five hundred people were facing the stage, Ceallach appeared.

His father was a handsome man, Del thought. Aging gracefully. Probably more than the old man deserved. At least Del knew he came from a strong gene pool.

As his father began talking about his life and his work, Del thought about how things had been so many years ago. When he'd been a kid and his father had been so disappointed by his lack of artistic ability.

Del had keenly felt his father's dissatisfaction. He'd cried himself to sleep hundreds of times, had prayed to wake up with some small ability to draw or paint or sculpt. Eventually he'd decided he didn't care anymore. He would find success in other ways—just not in his father's eyes.

Perhaps that was what growing up was about. Being proud of himself. Finding peace with his past while moving into his future.

Maya stood beside the stage. She looked at him and smiled.

Wanting kicked him in the gut. Wanting and maybe something more. But was he willing to take another chance on her? She wasn't Hyacinth, but that didn't mean he shouldn't remember the lesson learned there. To walk that road again would be trouble.

He thought about his father, how everyone was here to celebrate a man who had made his family's life hell for decades. Del remembered the old couple they'd interviewed in the woods. The ones who were still in love after years and years together. He would guess nearly no one attending his father's party had heard about them or would take the time to know them.

Who was to be more admired? Ceallach or the old couple? Who did he want to be like? There were lessons to be learned from both, and if he were smart, he would be careful to learn the right ones.

* * *

D
EL
HAD
SEEN
Maya's nerves before her class and now it was his turn to experience some of his own. While her students had been adults, he was facing a room full of fifteen-to eighteen-year-olds. He thought to himself that Eddie and Gladys were a bit less intimidating.

He'd watched Maya's presentation and had enjoyed her breezy, friendly style. While he'd always enjoyed talking to kids, the ones he usually interacted with were younger. Although it wasn't the teens that had him on edge. It was what they were going to say. Not counting Maya, they were going to be his first audience for the videos he'd done, and he was asking them to be critical.

Whatever happened, he would get valuable information, he told himself. If his work was crap, he would start over. If it was salvageable, then he would save it. Maya's editing had already made a huge difference. If only he'd had her along to do the filming, he thought.

The high school classroom was large, with a wall of windows and plenty of space between the desks and the dry-erase boards up front. Open shelves along the back wall were filled with clear plastic bins labeled with things like hats, masks or poster paint.