Page 39 of Taken With You
“You should take that,” she said. “I need to shower anyway.”
She let the sheet drop because she couldn’t pull it out from under the tray without overturning what was left of her breakfast. Shrugging off the linens, she wiggled out from under the tray, swung her bare legs over the side of the bed, and then strode past him naked, brushing against him with a tease. Garrick stilled, turning to watch with pupil-constricting appreciation as she slipped barefoot through the hall to the shower. Before she could close the door with a suppressed giggle, a hand slapped on the wood.
Her breath hitched at the sight of him filling the doorway, his gaze licking her naked skin.
“You’ll need help,” he said, “washing up.”
His phone rang back in the bedroom where he must have tossed it before chasing her. He nipped her earlobe and then ran his lips up the side of her neck, sending shivers through her. Her breasts pressed against the stone wall of his chest, and the fly of his jeans rubbed against her vulva.
“Your CFO is still calling.” Her voice was as weak as her will.
“He can wait.”
She said, “You’re wearing too many clothes again.”
She pulled away so he could shuck them off. He seized his T-shirt at the back of his neck and yanked it over his head. The ripples of his abdomen crunched as he flicked open the button of his jeans, peeling the zipper apart to reveal the hard-muscled expanse and the line of hair that led to his sex. For the sake of her racing heart, she stepped toward the shower and turned on the water. She ducked her head under, slicking her hair back, awake to every drop of water hitting her shoulders and collarbones, pounding her nipples and thighs. Then he was there, a looming shadow. His hands came around to splay on her belly. He grabbed the soap and worked it over her in slow circles, slicking up her breasts, her belly, her thighs. The fresh-soap smell filled the shower, mingling with the steam as his mouth slid against her neck, and his hands wandered everywhere. He made her feel so wanted, so desired, soneeded.The spray hit her breasts with pinpoint force as his hands slid wet over her skin. The soap hit the tile floor as he stopped lathering her up. His fingers slid around her hip and down into the delta, burrowing into the crease of her sex to stroke her mindless.
She tilted her hips when the pleasure grew to an ache. He groaned as his stiffness pressed between her buttocks.
He pulled away and said in a strained voice, “Condom.”
“No.” She leaned forward and flattened her hands on the tiles, arching her back to welcome him. “I’m on birth control.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.” He’d used a condom each time last night without hesitation. He’d parlayed it into foreplay or rolled it on without a pause. The one true thing she’d come to learn about Garrick was that he respected her will, deferred to it. So she pressed her bottom against his shaft, willing him to fill her ache. He seized her hips with eager hands. Positioned himself, he teased her opening with the tip until she groaned.
With one hard thrust, he was inside her, bare skin against bare skin.
She dropped her head between her shoulders, gasping as water poured over her back and ran in rivulets down her body. He thrust hard, urgent. The shower stall echoed their moans. She gasped at each push, the swell of him stretching her open. Through the shower door, she glimpsed them in the vanity mirror, saw how large he was standing behind her in the shower, how small she seemed in his grip. The sight lit her up, and with a shout, she spun into pleasure. A moment later, the warmth of his ejaculation bathed her inside.
Water splattered over their bodies, over the tiles, the only sound outside of their breathing. Steam filled the room, fogged the shower door, and the mirror. She enjoyed every last shuddering throb as his pleasure slowly abated. He slid himself out, and then he pulled her around. He fell back against the tiled wall, bringing her with him, his body wet and hard as he hugged her close.
His heart beat fast under her ear as he said, “I don’t think that was even five minutes.”
She moved her lips against the rock of his pectoral muscle. “A very productive five minutes.”
“You’re killing me, Amanda. I want to fuck you all day.”
“Okay.”
His tremendously strong chest moved against her as he laughed. She could make a maze with the furrows and swells of his musculature. She promised herself she would do exactly that, later.
He pressed his lips against her forehead. “Come up to the cabin for lunch.”
She whispered, “So long as you’re on the menu.”
The wolfish grin made an appearance. He ran his hands down her back to cup her ass and squeezed as he kissed her hard. The muted sound of his phone ringing echoed down the hallway. With regret, he pulled away, casting her a sexy smile as he slipped out.
Her legs couldn’t hold her any longer. She slid down the tiles in liquid pleasure and stayed there until she gathered her scattered wits.
Twenty minutes later, showered and sated and pleasantly sore, Amanda skipped down the stairs. From the den-converted-to-an-office, she heard Garrick speaking in his business voice, but what she heard in her head was a much lower, deeper growl. She kept walking on air, through the hall into a kitchen perfumed with the smell of bacon and coffee, grabbing a cup before heading out onto the veranda. She paused there in the balmy autumn air, absorbing the view of the valley, the blue hills in the distance, the bright sky scudding with clouds. She filled her lungs with the eucalyptus-scented air. The whole valley sparkled before her as if behind a scrim of stars.
Drugged by post-sex endorphins, she indulged herself in a moment. She’d really never had a chance, with the rush of the harvest, to take a pause to appreciate everything that had happened over these past weeks. This glorious old winery was one-third hers, as tattered and old-fashioned as the equipment was, as shoestring as this harvest operation had been. The throwback nature of the winery had always been part of the appeal. She would rather bootstrap an operation than settle into stainless-steel efficiency. She’d rather work hard amid a family of fellow enthusiasts, just like when she was a child.
She took a sip of coffee and savored the mix of creamy and bitter, the hot jolt of energy. The night with Garrick had added a new depth of filter to her vision. She wasn’t even tired anymore, though she sure hadn’t slept much. In this moment, she was alive down to her last nerve ending. It couldn’t possibly last, this blinding satiation. She knew that their relationship had an expiration date. Garrick had a life back in New York and she now had a life here.
But she wasn’t going to think about that today.
