Page 114 of Keepsake
Lark had not madea secret of the fact that her parents had money. But I wasn’t really prepared for the extravagance of her family home. When I’d walked down her street, I’d realized I was completely out of my element. The houses weren’t enormous—they were packed too closely together for that. But each one was more ornate and historical than the last, and each appeared to have been primed and polished to a high sheen.
The inside was utterly glamorous. Lark’s parents had kept the antique plasterwork and the fine wooden details. The staircase I climbed had a gleaming dark wood banister, and I saw art on every wall. The first landing branched off toward a couple of darkened bedrooms and a dimly lit library—the kind with books to the ceiling and a rolling ladder attached to the wall.
Wow.
I kept climbing. The third floor had sloping ceilings. Straight ahead I found Lark’s room. The bed was another antique, an iron-framed number with a white cloud of a comforter on top. There was a big-screen computer on the desk, and more floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do, so I headed over to inspect their titles. She had all the Harry Potters prominently displayed, along with novels of every style and color, and two shelves of travel books. Most of these were dog-eared. I ran my hand along the spines, marveling at all the places she’d been. Spain, Italy, France, England. Mexico. Japan. Australia.
We were not an obvious match, Lark and I.
But I forgot to worry about that a minute later when she arrived in the doorway looking a little breathless. “Sorry. There was something I had to do.”
“Okay?”
Lark switched off the overhead light, leaving a low, beaded lamp by her bed to cast a rippled glow on the slanting wall. “Come here,” she said, patting the bed. “Every night when I go to sleep, I wish you were here with me.”
Hearing that just lit me up. “I may have thought the same thing once or twice,” I said with a smile. “Or, you know, every single night.” I sat down beside her.
She turned and scrambled onto my lap, straddling me. “Take off my sweater,” she demanded.
“If you insist.” I kissed her, smiling. Then I put my hands under the soft sweater she wore. My fingers found her velvety skin, and I had to kiss her again. As our mouths melted together I had a rather unfamiliar thought.I’m so lucky.
Slowly I pushed her sweater higher, my fingertips skimming her soft curves. She dipped her chin and I lifted the sweater over her head. Then my breath caught in my throat, because she was wearing a shimmering red satin bra in a sexy design. It cupped her in a mouthwatering way, lifting her breasts as if they were on offer to me.
I groaned, my palms cupping her, my thumbs stroking over the swells. Leaning down, I had to kiss the valley between her breasts, and the skin was even softer than I remembered.
Lark slid off my knees, standing up. She unbuttoned her jeans and dropped them to the floor.
I almost swallowed my tongue when a matching pair of tiny red panties appeared, clinging to her perfect hips. “Damn,” I swore. “You’re killing me.”
She kicked her jeans away and stepped toward me, going to work on the buttons of my shirt. “It’s a little surprise I had planned. Didn’t think I’d need it until I visited in Vermont. I just did a hasty change in my dining room.” She laughed.
I put my hands on her waist, because I had to touch her. “You don’t have to wear anything special for me. I think you’re perfect in anything.”
She kissed the patch of skin she’d exposed on my chest, then finished removing my shirt. “I know it’s not important. But it’s something I did to show you I was thinking about you. And that when I push you down on the bed—” She gave me a little shove, and I fell back, grinning. “—that it’s withintention. It’s not because I had a bad dream, or you had a good one. Or because I need the escape. This—” She indicated the lingerie. “—was a little gift to let me say that.”
“Then I accept.”
She put a hand on my fly, and all the blood left my brain. “You still have too many clothes on.”
“That’s your fault, I think.”
Her eyes widened at my boldness. “I think you’re right. I’d better fix that.”
If she said any more after that, I didn’t hear it. I was too busy watching the only woman I’d ever really wanted remove the rest of my clothing. When she was finished, I was naked on the bed, and she was wearing only the red lingerie. “Come here,” I rasped, my fingers itching to touch her.
When she fell into my arms, I rolled, lying her out on the bed. Then I began to methodically kiss her everywhere, starting at the tender place underneath her ear, and wandering slowly down her sleek form. Every time we’d been together, it was always a fantasy come to life. I worshipped every inch of her skin, humming my pleasure.
Every brush of my mouth against her skin made me more ready to combust. With both thumbs, I traced the outline of red lace which barely concealed her breasts. Then I traced the same line with my tongue.
“Yesss…” Lark hissed, and I smiled on my way down to kiss her soft belly, the curve of her hip. I took my time, teasing my way across the line of her panties, then down even further, placing wet kisses into the junctures of her thighs. “More,” Lark demanded, reaching a hand down to push away the scrap of red fabric.
I caught her hand and pinned it to the bed. “Patience.” I chuckled. I needed time to appreciate her body. I’d been waiting for this moment for too long. Lark squirmed suggestively, and so I pinned her thighs in place with my elbows. With painstaking deliberation, I continued my slow journey into the V of her legs, kissing my way across the satin, and taking a moment to inhale the sweet, musky scent of her desire.
“You’re killing me,” she panted.
“Nah,” I said, trailing my tongue back up, crossing her abdomen until her muscles quivered. “You’re tough. You can take it.” Parting her thighs with my palms, I put my lips over the satin center of her and exhaled slowly. In my arms, Lark began to tremble. She let out a whimper. “Take them off,” she begged.
“Nope.” I kissed her pussy over the silky panties. “It’s my present. I’ll open it when I like. Now roll over.”
