Close Up (19 page)

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Authors: Erin McCarthy

BOOK: Close Up
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“I’m sorry,” she said.
For everything,
she wanted to add. For derailing what could have been a great marriage.

But Sean just smiled. “Me, too. You weren’t the only one who made mistakes. I’m glad we’re here, right now, together. Whatever that means.”

Kristine nodded, a knot in her throat.

Then Sean kissed her, and it was aching and deep and powerful. Without being aware she was doing it, she let her legs fall apart.

When he pushed inside her a moment later, she was well and truly open for him.

14

S
EAN DIDN’T TRUST
himself to speak any further, so he buried himself inside Kristine and let his body do his talking. As he pressed into her welcoming heat, her breasts brushing against his chest, her eyes limpid and soft with desire, he marveled that they were here, doing this. That she said she still loved him.

It wasn’t the same as being in love with him, he knew that. But it still meant a hell of a lot to him. It meant that she hadn’t jumped on a plane and never looked back. That, like him, she regretted their immaturity, but not the marriage itself.

Kristine wrapped her legs around his backside and lifted her hips, allowing him to fill her fully. She sighed with each thrust, and her teeth bit into her bottom lip. She was beautiful, absolutely stunning.

When she came with a soft cry, Sean had never felt more satisfied, more absolutely masculine, and he pounded into her harder, wanting to make it more, make it everything for her. It was only seconds before he was gritting his teeth and exploding inside her, holding on to his headboard with one hand for leverage. Damn, but damn. It felt so good to be back inside her.

“Geez Louise,” she breathed as he collapsed on her. “We’re not doing so great with that making-it-last thing, are we? I came in about three minutes.”

“We’re still catching up.” Sean pulled out of her with a sigh and shifted so he wasn’t crushing her. Kissing her forehead, he gave a short laugh. “We have ten years of orgasms to make up for in thirty-six hours.”

“Oh, my God, I’ll be in a coma if we attempt that. Either that or my clitoris will fall off.” Kristine snuggled against him. “Thanks for warming me up. That was so sweet of you.”

“I’m a gentleman—what can I say?” He cupped her breast because it was there and it looked so freaking sexy.

“Gentlemen don’t fondle breasts.”

“I’m not fondling. I’m resting my hand on it.”

“That’s what I’m doing, too,” she said, as she reached over and lightly stroked his cock. “Thanks, MacGyver. I needed that.”

Yep. He did love her. How could he not? She was amazing.

What would she say if he said he wasn’t going to sign the divorce papers? That he thought they should start over, from the beginning again, and see what could come out of their relationship.

“With the right tools anything is possible,” he told her lightly, mind whirring with possibilities. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t imagine dropping Kristine off tomorrow night and then never seeing her again.

He wanted to give their relationship one last shot before they sounded the final death toll. All he needed to do was convince her. How to do that he wasn’t exactly sure, but it definitely started with making her so sexually satisfied she was completely befuddled and easily persuaded.

“You have good tools.” She yawned. “How can I be hungry again?”

“Because it’s almost six o’clock. It’s dinnertime. I brought steaks to throw on the grill and salad fixings.”

“I never eat this much meat. I’d almost forgotten how delicious it is.”

He gave her a look. “You did have quite a mouthful today.”

They both started laughing.

“That is not what I meant!” she said, giggling. “I mean, I normally try to stay away from red meat to keep my girlish figure. Or rather my hourglass figure. I don’t want to lose my waist at some point.”

“You do have an amazing body.” He nudged her. “Roll over a second.”

“What? Why?” She looked at him as if he was a complete freak.

“Just do it.”

“Fine.” Grumbling, she rolled over onto her side, so her back was to him.

Sean leaned over and bit the cupcake tattoo on her ass. She shrieked.

“Hey, that hurts!”

“Sorry, I’ve been fantasizing about biting your cupcake for years. I had to do it.”

“Give a girl a little warning.” She glared at him over her shoulder.

He’d be happy to. Sean ran his hand over the smooth curve of her ass, letting his thumb dip between her cheeks. “Kristy.”

“Yes?”

“I’m going to bite your cupcake.”

“Sean, no—

But she stopped speaking and gave a low moan when he licked a path across her heart-shaped ass, right under each curve, dipping slightly into the heat between her legs before continuing to the other side. Then he strolled upward until he reached the pink-and-yellow cupcake, and gently sank his teeth into her flesh. Really, it was just asking for it. Why else would she put it there?

The story went that when she had turned eighteen she had tattooed it there to remind herself that everything she ate ended up on her ass, but he liked to think that wasn’t the full story. That she had meant to be cheeky, pun intended, and announce her sweetness in a secretive, naughty way.

While he sucked her soft skin into his mouth, he used his finger to tease between her legs. He was ready for round three, so he reached for a new condom from the nightstand. Her ass was raised just slightly off the bed, giving him a delectable view. “I’m having dessert.”

“Dessert before dinner?” she asked. “How scandalous.”

“MacGyver is his own man.” With that, Sean slid between her thighs, straight into her heat. Oh, yeah. “Besides, we’ve been eating all day yet I’m still oh, so hungry.”

Kristine seemed to agree. She moaned low, fingers digging into the comforter they had never made it under. The navy fabric was dark beneath her ivory skin, setting her off to perfection. Every inch of her looked rosy and aroused. That rich red hair he loved so much fanned over her shoulders as he stroked in and out of her. She had turned her head so that the right side of her face was visible to him, her mouth open, her lips swollen from his kisses.

He held her hips, taking it easier this time, enjoying a slow, steady rhythm. It was sensuous and heady, but there was something else there and he knew what it was. He suspected Kristine did, too, because she lifted her right hand up in invitation and he laced his fingers through hers.

“I’ve never felt you so completely in
me,
” she murmured.

A response was required, but he had no idea what to say.
Let’s not get divorced,
came to mind, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment. Or her orgasm. Which she was already having. Damn, that was a beautiful thing. There was no reason for him to hold back then, so he groaned and let his own release follow hers.

This time, instead of feeling sated and in need of collapse, he felt energized. Giving the back of her head a kiss, he got off the bed and pulled on his jeans. “I’m heading to the outhouse real quick.” Her eyes were closed. “You taking a nap?”

“Hmm,” was her opinion.

Grinning, Sean plucked his sweatshirt off the floor and pulled it on, too. He made his way through the cabin, pausing in the doorway to glance back at her lying on his bed. She looked good there.

As if she belonged.

* * *

K
RISTINE WANTED TO DOZE
, but she couldn’t actually fall asleep. Though she was too relaxed to move, either. It had been a long time since she hadn’t been stressed out or wound so tight she practically squeaked when she walked. This was a wonderful feeling of bliss, as if Sean and his ministrations had lifted the weight of her bills and possible unemployment right off her shoulders. Even the thought of her huge student-loan debt couldn’t diminish this feeling of contentment.

It wouldn’t last. So she might as well enjoy it to the fullest while she was experiencing it.

She knew she should get up and get dressed, but what was the point? Sean would just be annoyed in another hour when he had to peel her denim leggings off for a third time. So she stretched and yawned, rolling onto her side, back to the door. The bedroom was nice, like the rest of the cabin. Well-constructed, classic Northern woods architecture and decor. Sean had done very well for himself. She knew that, but this was the physical evidence of his success. If it were up to her, though, she would layer the room with more texture so it wasn’t so stark.

Not that it was up to her.

Her musings were interrupted when she heard the obvious and distinct sound of a cell-phone camera clicking in the quiet. Turning so fast she almost gave herself whiplash, she saw Sean in the doorway, phone up. “What the hell are you doing?” she asked, grabbing a pillow and holding it over her girl parts.

“Just for posterity.” He took another picture.

“Are you insane? And don’t you know you have to ask someone for permission before taking their picture? It’s just common courtesy. Especially if they’re naked.” God, her hair was a disaster, and her makeup was long gone. “I must look like a wreck.”

But he lowered the phone and the look on his face made her breath catch. “No. You look like a beautiful woman who just spent the afternoon in bed. You look satisfied. Maybe even happy. You look like the woman I fell in love with.”

“Oh.” That was her brilliant response. “I am satisfied. And yes, I’m happy.”

He moved to the bed and showed her the picture he had taken. She looked...sexy. The filter he had used had softened the shot, and on her side, her hair spilled backward, her waist nipping in, her legs scissored as if she had been left like that after being made love to. Which she had. It made her see herself from Sean’s perspective, and she realized she was very feminine. She’d known that, but concerns about her figure had always been her focus instead. What a complete waste of time, stressing about five pounds here and there.

Though she did have one concern. “What if your phone gets stolen?” she asked.

“I have it passworded. But if you want I’ll delete it.”

Did she? Yes. But no. The thought of it falling into the wrong hands was terrifying. Then again, her face wasn’t visible, and for crying out loud, Sean was in the security business. Surely, he knew how to keep his own data safe. Because the truth was, she liked the idea of Sean having her image and occasionally pulling out his phone and looking at her in his bed. Remembering this weekend.

That was more than a little selfish, but she loved him. She well and truly loved him, and if this was all there was going to be, she wanted to make her mark.

“You don’t have to.”

He leaned over her and kissed her. “Good. I want to keep it.”

“I guess I should get dressed.” Not that she was in any particular hurry, but she was starting to get chilly.

“If you want s’mores, yes, I guess you do. But otherwise, I don’t see the point.” Though he did go to his dresser and start rifling through it. “By the way, why is it okay for Ian Bainbridge to take photographs of a hundred people standing around together naked, but you’re uncomfortable with me taking your picture in private?”

“You don’t see me in any of those shots, do you?” she asked. “It’s not my thing.”

“I would think it would be more awkward to be shuffled around naked like cattle than one-on-one.”

“I think that’s the point, babe.” Kristine propped her head up with her hand and watched him pull a pair of sweatpants out of his dresser. “Are those for me?”

“Yes. I’m not going to attempt to get you out of those skintight jeans anymore. It’s like wrestling an eel.”

She laughed. “That is ridiculous. But I have yoga pants in my suitcase.”

“Just put them on.”

“Fine. I’m sure your sweats are more comfy anyway. As for Ian’s photography, it’s meant to make a statement. It’s not supposed to be intimate or sexual.”

“I suppose. For a guy like me, who is into numbers more than art, it’s a little hard to wrap my head around.” He handed her the sweats.

Kristine pulled them on, enjoying the feel of the fleece over her bare skin. She didn’t bother with her panties. “Thanks. So I guess being into numbers has served you well given how successful you are.”

“Yeah, I do all right. This is actually my third business. I designed a home-security app and sold it a few years ago, which gave me a nice influx of cash.”

He spoke, but he looked distracted. He had crawled up onto the bed and was brushing her hair off her face. His expression was serious and tender. “Tell me again why we split up?”

Something shifted inside her and her chest inflated, light, buoyant, aching for him. “Technically, we never did.”

Sean laughed softly. “No, I guess we didn’t. Marriage interruptus.”

His hand stroked down her side, his calluses rough on her skin, but his touch tender, worshipful. “So what do we do now?” he asked.

Hell if she knew. She’d never had answers to anything. How to pay her bills. What to do with her life. Why chocolate tasted so much better than kale. She was not the woman you went to when you needed practical how-to advice. She was the one more suited to providing a hug when you were sad, for giving you a handmade card for your birthday and putting you into a food coma.

Kristine lived in the now, not the future, and while sometimes that was a terrible thing, as her bank account would testify to, other times it served her well.

Like now.

“You kiss me. Then we roast marshmallows.”

15

K
RISTINE HELD HER
marshmallow over the flame, feeling warm and cozy. “What do you call these marshmallow roasters?”

Sean had produced two pronged metal rods with handles and slid the marshmallows onto them. He was definitely a guy prepared to be out at the lake.

“I guess you call them marshmallow roasters.” He shrugged. “Or tritons?” He brandished one at her like a sword.

“Watch where you’re waving that thing,” she told him. “You’re going to take my eye out.”

“That’s what she said.”

Kristine rolled her eyes. “I love the male ego. I hate to break it to you, but I have never once felt like my eyesight was in jeopardy from a penis.”

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