Page 17 of Christmas in Whitehorn
“I agree.”
She wanted to know more. She wanted him to tell her that he found her sexy and irresistible, that helikedher as much as he wanted her. She also wanted to win a couple million dollars in the next two weeks.
“Where do we go from here?” he asked.
The question surprised her. For a single heartbeat, she thought about blurting out the truth. That she was lonely and desperately wanted someone in her life. Someone who would care about her and maybe even grow to love her. Someone who wouldn’t mind about Dirk. Someone…but not Mark. Her luck wasn’t that good.
“I have to take a shower,” she said. “I’m due at work in less than an hour. Maybe we could table this discussion until later?”
“Okay.” He made no move to leave. “I could help.”
“With what?”
He moved closer, then cupped her face and slowly kissed her. The tender touch of his mouth on hers made her legs buckle. She had to grab on to him to stay standing. Heat from his body seemed to surround her own, drawing her in, weaving a spell she couldn’t resist.
“With your shower,” he murmured. “You know, scrub your back.”
“It’s just about sex,” she said, talking more to herself than him.
“Is that bad?” He reached into his sweats pocket and pulled out a small packet. “I remembered protection this time.”
She tried to be outraged that he had arrived at her house with the intention of having sex with her. But before she could muster the words, he was backing her toward her bedroom. Somehow her robe had opened and he was touching her breasts. The feel of his hands on her curves dissolved her fragile indignation, not to mention short-circuiting her self-control. Darn the man. She would give him a piece of her mind, just as soon as they finished making love.
Light spilled from the bathroom, allowing her to see him as he paused in the doorway of her bedroom. He tugged off her robe. She tossed it away. He pulled off his sweatshirt, then kicked off his athletic shoes before stepping out of his sweats. He was naked underneath.
She saw the muscles rippling in his broad chest, the scar on his left side. As much as she wanted to explore the angry, red marks, she was more interested in his jutting arousal. When she started kissing him, she slipped her hand down his side, then around in front until she could touch him.
He pulsed against her questing fingers. So hard and ready. She felt a clenching deep inside herself at the thought of him filling her.
“Shower,” he said against her mouth, kissing her and guiding her backward at the same time.
He drew her nightgown over her head and tossed it to the ground. Her panties quickly followed. She heard the rush of water but barely paid attention because now he was slipping his fingers between her legs and touching her in that special way of his. By the time they stepped under the steamy stray, she was nearly ready to climax.
He lathered her all over, paying particular attention to her breasts. He teased her nipples until she was panting. She responded by grabbing the soap and rubbinghimall over. When she slipped her hands between his legs, he groaned. They washed each other’s hair, letting the soapy water pour off them as they kissed.
Mark reached for the condom he’d left on the vanity, then slipped it on. Darcy glanced doubtfully around at the tub.
“How exactly did you plan on us…”
He smiled. “Trust me.”
He turned her so that her back was to him. She didn’t mind because he nibbled down her neck and reached around to play with her breasts. When she was trembling and desperate, he urged to her raise one leg so her foot rested on the rim of the tub. Something hard probed at her from behind.
Instinctively she bent forward. As he entered her, filling her and making her gasp, he slipped one hand around and began to rub against her most sensitive place. His fingers matched the pace of his thrusting, robbing her of will. She braced her hands against the wall of the tub. The cold tile contrasted with the heat they generated between them.
Faster and faster, everything so incredibly perfect until she had no choice but to surrender to the climax. As her body began to shudder, she felt him stiffen. He breathed her name as they both spent themselves in the glory of their joining.
* * *
“At least the cleanup was easy,” Darcy muttered to herself as she drove to the Hip Hop Café twenty minutes later.
She avoided glancing at the clock in the dash—she already knew that she was late. She couldn’t believe it. After five years of near-perfect behavior, she’d lost control twice in less than twenty-four hours—and with the same man. Although she supposed that was better than losing control with a different man. Apparently all she had to do was avoid Mark and she could return to her previously calm, if lonely, existence.
She couldn’t believe they’d done it again. She also couldn’t believe how good it had been. In her past, lovemaking had been something the man wanted. She had enjoyed herself on rare occasions but she’d never felt the earth move. Nor had she ever done it in the shower, or in that particular position. It had been—she shivered—delightful.
She pulled into the back parking lot of the Hip Hop. There were three other employee cars there, along with four belonging to customers. She breathed a sigh of relief. At least it was the morning after Thanksgiving and most people were going to still be too stuffed with turkey to bother with breakfast out. Trying not to notice it was six thirty-five, she grabbed her purse and dove out of the car.
“I know, I know,” she said as she entered the alcove with the lockers and quickly put away her things. She looked at Janie and sighed. “I’m twenty minutes late. I’m really sorry.”
