Addicted to Love (34 page)

Live in the moment. Forget about tomorrow. Forget about everything except now.

The thought freed her and she settled down at the table across from Brody with an uncluttered mind.

“A toast.” Brody held up his wine glass.

Rachael raised hers. “What are we toasting?”

“To living in the moment.”

The hairs on her forearms stood at attention. He’d read her mind. How eerie was that?

“To the moment,” Rachael echoed and she clinked the lip of her glass against his.

They ate without speaking. The silence was comfortable, anticipatory. She watched him watching her enjoy the meal. The steak was cooked perfectly, the salad crisp and fresh, the bread warm and hearty, the soothing wine washed it all down. The fire crackled. The smell of pine wood wafted on the air. She allowed herself to fully experience the moment without wondering what was going to happen next.

Following the meal, they cleared off the table and washed the dishes together. Brody poured them both a second glass of wine, then took her by the hand and led her gently to the sofa in front of the crackling fire.

He took her hands in his. Rachael realized she was trembling.

“You’re chilled,” he said and she didn’t contradict him even though she wasn’t cold. She was trembling in anticipation.

“Brody,” she murmured. “Brody.”

He dipped his head until his mouth was almost touching hers. “Yes, Rachael?”

Time hung suspended as they stared deeply into each other’s eyes, his lips so close she could already taste the pinot noir on him, his fingers kneading her knuckles. Her speeding pulse raced blood through her body.

“Rachael,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin.

“Brody.”

Lightly, he squeezed her fingers, the pressure sweet and reassuring. But she wasn’t looking for sweet. She wanted sex. Good, hard sex. No romantic trappings. No idealizing something that didn’t need idealizing.

Brody was so different from any other man she’d ever known. He had a calm, unflappable exterior but inside he seethed with a smoldering intensity. He was brave, but vulnerable. Honorable, but wary of people. The contradictions in him were exciting. A complicated man full of surprises.

And carnal delights.

His tongue was doing crazy, thrilling things while at the same time his calloused palm was pushing up under the hem of her T-shirt, to discover she was not wearing a bra. He made an appreciative noise as his hot fingers gently grazed her bare breasts.

In the past, she’d always closed her eyes when being kissed. It helped her to romanticize the moment. Carried her away to some sweet dreamland. But she no longer wanted anything to do with fantasy. She wanted the real man. She wanted to experience every sensation now.

His eyes were open as well and he was looking into her as deeply as she was looking into him. His tongue dueled with hers and his fingers stroked her breasts. His gaze was a vortex, drawing her into him, holding her pinned gloriously to the spot, his body doing wild things to hers. His palms planed her skin, thumb and index fingers of both hands nimbly squeezing her nipples.

Rachael moaned and arched into him.

“I’ve gotta have you now,” he said. “I’ve been wanting you for three months. I can’t wait any longer.”

He stood up then, holding his hands out to her. She got to her feet and he led her to the bed in the opposite corner of the room. Her heart fluttered as fast as hummingbird wings.

He tugged her shirt off and then she pulled his over his head. Their gazes fixed on each other as they simultaneously tossed the garments onto the floor.

“Aw, Peaches,” he said when he saw her breasts. “Your breasts are even prettier than I imagined they were.”

“Don’t call me Peaches,” she whispered.

“Oh, right,” he said. “No romance. Just sex.”

“That’s right.”

Sexual tension pulsed between them, an alluring, blistering force. At the look of red-hot desire in his eyes, Rachael felt her cheeks burn.

He went down on his left leg in front of her, splayed a hand at the small of her back and pulled her to him. His mouth was level with her lust-swollen breasts. And when his tongue flicked out to gently suckle one protruding nipple, she hissed in a sharp breath and planted both her palms on his head.

While his tongue slowly licked her heated flesh, his hand strayed to untie the drawstring of her pants. He edged them down her legs, fingers skimming her thighs as he went. The center of her throbbed at the memory of his lips, of what he’d done to her in the boat. Instantly, she felt herself grow wet for him all over again.

She was acutely aware of everything. His touch. His scent. The sound of his breathing. The taste of her own desire burning on her tongue hot as cinnamon.

He inched her panties down as well until her clothes pooled at her feet. He buried his face in the triangle of hair between her thighs and breathed deep. “God, you smell great.”

Feeling slightly embarrassed, she stepped away from him and out of her clothing. It wasn’t fair. She was undressed and he still had his pants on.

She held out her hands to him. “On your feet, Carlton.”

Brody glanced up at her and she could see the hesitation etched on his face. He’d been dragging this out, trying to avoid the moment when he had to get completely naked in front of her.

He was a little off-balance and he had to take hold of her hand to keep from falling over when he pushed up off the floor. When he was standing again, she reached for the waistband of his pajama bottoms that barely contained his erection.

Her eyes latched onto his.

He looked a bit panicky. The pulse at his throat jumped and he had his jaw clenched tight.

“I . . . ” Brody cleared his throat. “Rachael . . . there’s something you’ve got to know before we take this any farther.”

“Shhh, there’s nothing to tell,” she said, running her hands underneath his waistband. His bare skin was so warm to her touch, his body so responsive.

“Listen to me.” He grasped her by the shoulders, cupped her chin in his palm, and forced her to look him. The expression on his face was somber.

She straightened. “I’m listening.”

“I haven’t . . . ” He hesitated, his dark eyes growing darker still. He heaved in a deep breath. “I haven’t been with a woman since . . . ”

She waited. Didn’t prompt him. Let him go at his own pace.

“Since I lost my leg.”

At once she understood his fear. He was afraid of disappointing her in bed, worried that he couldn’t measure up to a man with two good legs. Rachael laced her fingers together around his waist and didn’t break his gaze.

“It’s okay,” she murmured. “It’s all right. Everything is going to be just fine.”

“What if I . . . ” He swallowed. “Can’t live up to my end of the bargain?”

“Brody,” she said. “Being here with you is the bargain. Anything else that happens is just cream on the peaches.”

The look of gratitude that came into his eyes humbled her. To think he held her in such high regard!

She kissed him then, like she’d never kissed him before. Poured her heart and soul into it. Showing him without having to tell him how special this moment was to her, what a unique man he was. She rained kisses on his mouth, his chin, his jaw, and down his throat.

It seemed as if he was the first man who’d ever really seen her. It was as if he saw straight to the essence of who she really was. Neither a romantic nor a cynic. Neither a kindergarten teacher nor a columnist for
Texas Monthly.
Neither a starry-eyed bride-to-be nor someone’s jilted fiancée.

She was simply Rachael.

In that moment she experienced total serenity. As if the world had finally clicked into place and nothing could disturb her equanimity. All these years she’d been chasing happily-ever-after. Holding on to and intensifying romantic feelings through her active imagination. Tying herself up, holding herself down with unrealistic expectations.

But through Brody’s eyes she glimpsed her authentic self.

It wasn’t some romantic notion. It wasn’t a flight of fancy. It had nothing to do with elaborate emotions or tender feelings or the intensity of intimate dreams. It was a tangible, unshakable knowledge. A deep-down abiding faith in him.

And it confused her deeply.

Slowly, he took off his pants and sank down on the bed. He gave her a wan smile. “This is me baring myself in front of you.”

“Thank you,” she said. “For trusting me.”

Rachael’s gaze strayed to his penis and she gulped back her amazement. God might have taken this man’s leg, but he’d graced him in other ways.

He followed her gaze and chuckled. “Is that wide-eyed look for me?”

Mutely, she nodded.

“I promise to be gentle with you if you promise to be gentle with me,” he teased, and she loved that he could joke about this. “Unless, of course, you’re not into gentle.”

“Gentle is good.” Okay, so maybe earlier she’d wanted hard, pumping sex, but now that had given way to this perfect-pitch moment and she was going with the flow. Gentle sounded fabulous.

Brody lay back against the pillows without taking off his Power Knee. He reached for her and pulled her down beside him. Cradling her in the crook of his arm, he smiled into her eyes.

Feeling utterly treasured, she curled against him.

He kissed her with exquisite tenderness, while he stroked her skin with the back of his hand. Slowly, leisurely, they explored each other with all five of their senses. Massaging, caressing, licking, tasting, finding the spots that made each other sigh, moan, and whisper.

“Give me your hand,” he said.

She placed her hand in his and he guided her palm to his chest. She felt his heart thundering underneath his breastbone as if he’d just completed a triathlon. Curiosity fused her hand to his skin. She couldn’t pull away.

Mesmerized. They stared into each other.

Magic. It felt like total magic.

It hit her then, what she was doing. Going down the wrong path, romanticizing this moment. Romanticizing him. She knew better, but the slow tempo he’d set had drawn her into the magic of the moment. She had to break the spell.

Live in the moment. Stop thinking. Just be.

Good advice, but how could she do that when he was looking at her as if she was the most precious thing he’d ever seen? Only one way. Sex. Not love. Not tenderness. Not emotional intimacy. Just sex. Hard and hot and real. Powerful, orgasmic sex to blow away the mist of fantasy.

She removed her hand from his chest and pushed him back against the pillow with both hands. She captured his mouth with hers, pulled his bottom lip up between her teeth, and bit down lightly.

He groaned.

Yeah, this was the ticket.

She pulled away to slide her mouth down his neck one hot kiss at a time. She tracked a path from his throat down the middle of his chest — with a quick detour to his nipples — before resuming her trek over his muscled abdomen, past his navel, to his pelvis, and finally ending up at his most impressive erection.

He shuddered when her lips touched his hot moist tip.

“Mmm,” she murmured. “You taste delicious.”

“Hang on,” he said. “Two can play at this game.”

“What . . . ?” she asked, pushing her hair back from her face.

But he already had his hands around her waist, maneuvering them around so that while she was licking him like a lollipop, he was angling his head toward her most sensitive spot.

She sucked in her breath as his tongue flicked at her inner cleft. To counter his surprise, she stretched her lips over the expansive width of his penis.

His tongue was hot and wet and so was hers.

She swirled. He licked.

Up and down, around and around until they were both moaning and writhing, consumed by mutual pleasure.

On and on they played. He on her, she on him. Licking, sucking, tasting. Glorious sensations rippled through her body, turning her inside out. They increased the tempo as the pressure built, rising to the inevitable crescendo.

Rachael mewled softly whenever he did something right, grunted when he made a wrong move. It didn’t take him long to pick up her rhythms, learn what she liked and give her more of it.

She took him deeper until she felt him pressing against the back of her throat, juicy and slick. She rolled her lips back, stretching wider to accommodate his bigness. She wanted to swallow all of him.

Finally Brody broke away, pulling his mouth from her throbbing anxious clit. “I can’t stand it anymore. I have to be inside you.”

“Condoms,” she gasped, so addled by passion she was impressed that she had remembered. Thank heavens she’d remembered.

“I’m on it,” Brody said, stumbling from the bed. He returned in a matter of seconds, but she was already drifting down from the pinnacle.

“Hang on,” he panted, ripping open the box with his teeth and sending packets of condoms flying around the room. One smacked Rachael on her belly.

“Let me.” She laughed and peeled open the foil wrapping. He was already in bed again. The leg didn’t slow him down one bit. Rachael popped the condom between her teeth and proceeded to roll it onto him.

He groaned, took her by the shoulders, and flipped her onto her back. He was trembling so hard he could barely mount her.

And then he was inside.

She’d never had a man so thick, filling her up until she feared she might not be able to take any more.

“Peaches, you’re dripping wet for me.”

“I am, Brody, I am.”

He was so damned beautiful. Hard, lean, a fine spray of dark hair between his nipples. Her hips twitched against his, the muscles between her thighs clenching.

Their breathing changed, getting hoarser, raspier. Their coupling was primal now. Fierce and hungry. He plunged heedlessly into her, driving them closer and closer to the edge.

They were almost there. Both of them. Ready to come together. As one.

“Ah-ah-ah.” Rachael made a noise, desperate, hungry.

He must have misinterpreted her sound of encouragement and thought she wanted him to hurry when she wanted the exact opposite. He began to pump faster, sliding in and out of her, quickening his rhythm.