Page 46 of For the Love of Lilah
“Don’t,” she said weakly when he leaned close to nip at her ear.
“Maybe I’ve made the mistake of indicating that it’s only the way you look, the way you feel under my hands, the way you taste that attracts me.” He drew her bottom lip into his mouth, sucking gently until her eyes unfocused. “But it’s more than that. I just don’t know how to tell you.” Her pulse beat fast and hard against his hands as he walked her backward. “There’s never been anyone like you in my life. I intend to keep you there, Lilah.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m taking you to bed.”
She struggled to clear her head as his lips skimmed down her throat. “No, you’re not.” She was angry with him about something. But the reason floated just out of reach as his mouth seduced her.
“I need to show you how I feel about you.” Still toying with her lips, he lowered her to the mattress.
Her hands were free now and slipped under his shirt to run along the warm flesh beneath. She didn’t want to think. There were so many feelings to be absorbed, and she drew him closer, eager.
“I was jealous,” he murmured as he slid one lacy strap from her shoulder and replaced it with his mouth. “I don’t want another man touching you.”
“No.” He was touching her now, long, lingering strokes up and down her trembling body. “Just you.”
He sank into a kiss, spinning it out, wallowing in the flavor, the texture, until he was drunk on it. Then, like an addict, he went back for more.
This was comfort and care and romance, she thought hazily. To float together like this, with a sweet breeze blowing over heated bodies, soft murmurs muffled against clinging lips. Desire so perfectly balanced with affection. Nothing mattered so much as this—holding on to the hope of love.
She lifted his shirt over his head and let her hands roam. He was strong. It was more than the subtle ridge of muscles over his back and shoulders. It was the strength inside that aroused her. The integrity, the dedication to do what was right. He would be strong enough to be loyal and honest and gentle with those he loved.
He shifted her so that she was cocooned by pillows. Kneeling beside her, he began to untie each tiny ribbon down the center of the ivory silk. The contrast of patient fingers and hungry eyes left her breathless. He parted the material, caressing the newly exposed flesh with his lips. It amazed and humbled him that her skin should be as soft as the silk.
As patiently as he, she undressed him. Though the need to hurry was clawing at both of them, they held back, the understanding spoken.
She rose, wrapping her arms around his neck until they were torso to torso, thigh to thigh. With the bright light showering around them, they explored each other. A shudder then a sigh, a request and an answer. Questing lips sought out new secrets. Eager hands discovered new pleasures.
When she locked herself around him, he filled her. Glorying in the sensation, she arched back, taking him deeper, gasping out his name as the first shock waves struck. He could see her, her willowy body bowed, her skin glowing in the light while her bright hair rained down her back. As she shuddered, the stunned pleasure rushed into her face.
Then his vision grayed, his own body trembled. His hands slid down to grip her hips. She was wrapped tight around him when they shot over the peak together.
Chapter Nine
Max was whistling as he poured his coffee. It was the penguin’s natty little tune and suited his mood. He had plans. Big ones. A drive along the coast, dinner at some out-of-the-way spot, then a nice long walk on the beach.
He sipped, scalded his tongue and grinned.
He was having a romance.
“Well, it’s nice to see someone in such a bright mood so early in the morning.” Coco sailed into the kitchen. She’d dyed her hair a raven black the night before, and the result had put her in a cheerful state of mind. “How about some blueberry pancakes?”
“You look terrific.”
She beamed and reached for a frilly apron. “Why, thank you, dear. A woman needs a change now and again, I always say. Keeps men on their toes.” After taking a large mixing bowl from the cupboard, she glanced back at him. “I must say, Max, you’re looking rather well yourself this morning. The sea air or... something must agree with you.”
“It’s wonderful here. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for letting me stay.”
“Nonsense.” In her haphazard way she began dumping ingredients into the bowl. It never failed to amaze Max how anyone could cook so carelessly with such exquisite results. “It was meant, you know. I knew it the moment Lilah brought you home. She was always one for bringing things home. Wounded birds, baby rabbits. Even a snake once.” The memory of that made her pat her breast. “This was the first time she brought in an unconscious man. But that’s Lilah,” she continued, gaily mixing as she talked. “Always the unexpected. Quite talented, too. She knows all those Latin terms for weeds and the migratory habits of birds and things. When she’s in the mood, she can draw beautifully.”
“I know. I saw the sketches in her room.”
She slanted him a look. “Did you?”
“I...” He took a quick gulp of coffee. “Yes. Do you want a cup?”
“No, I’ll have my coffee when this is done.” Oh, my, my, she thought, things were moving along just beautifully. The cards didn’t lie. “Yes, our Lilah’s quite a fascinating girl. Headstrong like the others, but in such a casual, deceptively amiable sort of way. I’ve always said that the right sort of man would recognize how special she is.” Keeping an eye on Max, she rinsed and drained blueberries. “He’d need to be patient, but not malleable. Strong enough to keep her from veering off course too far, and wise enough not to try to change her.” Gently folding the berries into the batter she smiled. “But then, if you love someone why would you want to change her?”
