Page 34 of Nights at Seaside
“Hurry,” she urged, spurring his powerful legs into a sprint. With one hand holding her up, he dug into his pocket for his keys and unlocked the door.
He kicked the door closed behind him and carried her up the stairs to his bedroom, where he stood stock-still, unsure where he wanted her first. Now that they were in his bedroom, he didn’t want to rush this moment. He’d thought about making love to her since he’d first seen her in the bar, and now that he knew her, he wanted to make her feel better than she ever had. He wanted to cherish her. He lowered her to her feet, and she melted against him. Her eyes were soft, her lids heavy as her trembling hands pressed against his chest.
SAWYER TOUCHED HIS lips to hers in a tender, sensual kiss, lacking the urgency of moments ago. Sky didn’t know if he sensed how nervous she was or if he’d calmed just knowing she was there in his bedroom. His for the taking. She’d been so lost in sensation outside that she hadn’t been thinking at all, and now she was having trouble forming coherent thoughts.
Standing in the center of his bedroom, with moonlight glistening off the bay just beyond the picture windows and his king-sized bed, her mind reeled. It had been a long time since she’d been with a man. Almost a year. That was alongtime. What if she was too out of practice to do things right?
His hands traveled up her sides. His touch was confident, strong. Pleasure radiated through her and she closed her eyes, letting go of her worries. She inhaled a sharp breath as she lifted his shirt, fumbling to push it over his broad chest, wanting desperately to feel his skin against hers. He tugged it over his head and tossed it to the floor. His gaze was hot, his body hard and tight, but when he caressed her cheek with his rough fingers, his touch was gentle.
“You okay?” His thick dark brows knitted together.
She dropped her eyes to her fingers trembling against his chest and splayed them flat, unable to calm her buzzing nerves.
“It’s been a long time,” she admitted.
“For me, too.”
She heard the honesty in his voice.
“Do you want to wait?”
“Maybe?” She trapped her lower lip in her teeth, and when he brushed his thumb over it and said, “Okay,” she breathed a sigh of relief.
He gathered her in close and pressed his hand to the back of her head. “I’m sorry, Sky. I got lost in you.”
She closed her eyes and breathed him in. “I’msorry. I didn’t realize how nervous I was.”
He tipped up her chin and pressed his lips to hers. “Never apologize for following your heart. When we come together, I want to know it’s what you want with your head as much as your heart.”
“Thank you.”
He kissed the top of her head and held her. She didn’t know how long they stood there, his strong arms wrapped around her, her breathing calming, but it felt like a long time. She seemed to lose all track of time when they were together, which had never happened with anyone else—and she liked it. Sawyer didn’t rush her, or try to move her toward the bed. He didn’t do anything more thanbewith her, which was exactly what she needed.
How did he know?
“Come with me, sweetheart.” He led her out the bedroom door and down a wide hallway to a spiral staircase. She followed him up to a room with a glass, open truss ceiling. There were enormous pillows on colorful rugs over glistening hardwood floors. Overstuffed chairs were set at odd angles, and a plush sectional sofa, larger than any she’d ever seen, was near the far wall. The walls were constructed of alternating panels of glass and stone, providing views in all directions.
“This is amazing.” She gazed up at the rafters surrounding the glass in the ceiling. The mixture of textures—glass and old, scarred wood—and colors—forest green, yellows, reds, browns, and blues—called out to her, instantly making her feel at home. She could live in this room, with views of the dunes and the bay and the stars gazing down on them like eyes in the night.
“This was my family’s cottage, the one I told you about that my parents had to give up. My great-grandfather built this room. We call it the skycap. He carved his and my great-grandmother’s initials in a heart on the third rafter from the left.”
“Really? Is it still there?” She looked up, trying to find their initials.
“Yes. The people who bought the place from my parents never did anything with the ceiling, as you can see. So it’s still there. And my father carved my parents’ initials in the farthest rafter from the right.” He smiled at Sky. “Family tradition.”
“I love that. It’s so romantic. You must have been young when they sold, then?”
“I was, but I remember spending summers here. My parents and I would go clamming at low tide, and we had this little boat. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was a sailboat big enough for the three of us, and we used to go out and have dinner on the water. Sometimes we’d spend the night on it.”
“That sounds wonderful. My dad and Pete are boat fanatics. I bet Pete would let us borrow his boat one night to stay out on the water.”
He ran his knuckle down her cheek. “You would do that?”
“I would love to do that withyou.” She would do anything with him. “I’ll ask Pete if we can borrow the boat. I’m sure he won’t mind.”
He took her hand, and as they sank down to a pile of thick green pillows, she realized that she was no longer nervous.
“This is where I write my songs. Well, when I’m at home and writing. The night you saw me sing, I wrote a song about you. I wrote most of it at the bar, but then I came home, and in the middle of the night I came up here and finished writing it.”
