Page 100 of Just Like Starting Over
“Maybe. Hi Sylvia.”
She folds her arms across her chest and leans in the doorway. Her smile becomes wicked. “The weirdest thing is that your bottle of wine got here before you did.”
“Sounds like there are strange forces around this trailer.”
“No, they’re inside. And they’re not strange forces.” She reaches for me, her hand landing on my shoulder and I can’t take another step. “It’s just plain old magic,” she whispers, her eyes darkening. “The kind you recognize right away. The kind of magic everyone should be brave enough to trust.” Her gaze searches mine and I can’t even breathe.
Then Sylvia Kincaid leans out of her trailer, slides her arms around my neck and kisses me as if I’m everything she wants and more.
I was already lost, but now she’s turned the key in my heart and claimed it forevermore.
I carrySylvia into the trailer and straight to the bed at the back, then follow her down. We kiss like we’re going to devour each other, like we’re inventing it, like we’re never ever going to stop. She tugs up my shirt and my hands are under her dress. She’s smooth and sleek, and the scent of her arousal is the sexiest thing in the world.
She’s wearing lingerie, matching panties and strapless bra in lace the same colour as her skin. Her nipples are taut against the lace and I can’t resist them, cupping one breast in my hand and teasing the nipple to a harder point. When they’re both taut, I rub my thumbs over them roughly, loving how shewrithes and demands more, catching her nape in my hand and kissing her all over again. She’s moving beneath me, driving me crazy, and I wish I could make this last.
I remember that there’s still something I want to do for her, and slide a fingertip beneath the top edge of her panties. I flatten my hand against her belly and ease the panties down, my fingers sliding in her slick heat. She catches her breath, then kicks off her panties, parting her thighs in silent welcome. Her eyes are glowing, alight with pleasure and a welcome I can’t resist. I kiss her more deeply, then slide down the length of her, kissing all the way, then close my mouth over her sweet heat. She gasps, then sighs, a delicious sound of surrender. I slide off the bed to kneel beside it, cup her buttocks in my hands, lift her up and do my best to drive her crazy.
I’ve never seen her so wild or so abandoned. It’s impossible to turn aside from her or to stop. She comes too soon, to my thinking, so I start over again, making it last the second time. I take her close then back off, teasing her and keeping her from the summit, until she’s writhing beneath me. Pleasing her is making me crazy, too, and I know I won’t be able to hold back if she touches me. The second time she comes slowly, arching her back and whispering my name, the sweetest sound ever.
I climb back into the bed and cradle her against my chest, discovering that I fit just fine in Sylvia’s bed when she’s wrapped around me. She trembles against me, flushed and warm and probably sleepy, as the rain falls harder against the roof. Every protective instinct I’ve ever had is redoubled with this woman and I hold her like the precious gem she is. When her breathing slows, I wonder if I should just touch myself, but Sylvia suddenly rises above me, a determination in her eyes that makes me smile.
“Some things should be one for you and one for me,” she whispers.
I don’t even have time to agree before her hands are on me, a tease and then a caress, a torment that leaves me raging for her. She kisses me and strokes me at the same time, making me dizzy with need and I’m sure she’s going to finish me off.
Instead, she eases the condom over me with sure fingers.
Then she’s straddling me and I’m buried inside her, exactly where I want to be. Her eyes are sparkling and her cheeks are flushed, her nipples are tight beads and her hair is a glorious tangle. She could be a triumphant goddess claiming my soul and I’d willingly surrender. Our gazes lock as we move more quickly together, instinct taking over as my pulse pounds in my ears. She moves faster and faster and I feel the thunder gathering – and in the perfect moment, she bends over me, capturing my mouth with a kiss and swallowing the roar of my release. I roll her over and drive deep to finish, then rest my head on her shoulder for a long moment. I feel her heart beating against mine and her fingers in my hair and I touch my lips to her shoulder.
“I’m glad you didn’t leave,” she says and I brace myself over her, pushing a hand into her hair and kissing her again.
“Me, too.”
“Dinner’s probably cold.”
“I don’t care.”
She smiles. “Just don’t tell Merrie that we put her creations in the microwave.”
I cross my fingers over my heart, smiling as she laughs at me. I kiss her again, slowly and sweetly, and sure enough, I want her all over again. That’s never going to change. I’m never going to have enough.
But intimacy is more than sex and sensation, and I’m hoping that Sylvia is becoming convinced of that again.
We’re tousled and happy,unable to keep our hands off each other. We clean up, taking turns in the smallest bathroom in the world, then microwave the steak and vegetables. Not for too long, Sylvia can’t bring herself to that, but enough to take the chill off them. We end up doing a kind of dance, working around each other as I search for the corkscrew and glasses, and she does the plating, rubbing against each other at intervals. I pick her up and move her over a couple of times. It’s playful and comfortable, with kisses stolen in between. She’s tied up her hair again and put her dress back on. She’s barefoot, though, and I know she’s not wearing the bra anymore. I trap her against the counter and ease one hand beneath the top of her sundress, just to make sure. She arches against me, obviously having no issues with this delay in dinner service.
Eventually, we sit opposite each other at the table under the sparkling lights. The rain sounds louder now because Sylvia has opened a couple of windows and there’s a cool breeze. I toast her with my glass of wine and her eyes shine as she toasts me back.
The first bite makes me realize how hungry I am. That must be mutual because we eat in silence for a couple of minutes.
“Tell me about waiting tables,” I invite and Sylvia looks up. “Why is that still what you do?”
“It was what I knew how to do when I went to Toronto and I needed a job. I got one in a bar.” She eyes me. “You probably have no idea how good the tips can be.”
She’s pretty so I know she must have done all right.
Even so, she names a number and I nearly choke on my steak. “Every week?”
“Sometimes more.”
