Summertime Dream (25 page)

Far more. The difference left him blown away. What he’d been looking for and what he’d settled for too long in the past...

Made a man want to bang his head on the wall.

Now that he knew Margie...No comfortable return to that old life.

She’d said no regrets, but he should have made it perfect for her. He’d come too fast, too overcome in his own greedy pleasure, unable to hold off even as he knew she was close. He slipped his hand down between them to stroke her gently, savoring her lush softness, careful that she might be tender. She sighed, shifting softly to open to him with a contented hum.

Lightly, steadily, he brushed and teased, feeling the passionate tension rising back within her. She whimpered and sweetly pressed into his hand. “Oh!”

He smiled. “That’s the way. Good. Go for it.”

She rocked with him, her breath roughening into short little gasps and sighs and wordless pleas, until she arched with a sharp cry and trembled in his arms.

There. Now he could relax. For now. He stroked her hair and back and pressed a kiss to her hair.

She brushed her lips over his shoulder, and settled with a worn out, blissful sigh.

However, pondering what he’d learned today in Margie’s arms also dragged less comfortable thoughts into the mix. Guilt crashed back in. Yes, she’d been willing, but there was no getting around the fact he’d pushed her, hard. Yes, they’d resolved a couple of issues, but more problems lay ahead. He had to go to LA. He had the Atlanta and New York meetings. He didn’t want to leave her. He had to sell the house.

Would she go to LA with him?

Maybe she could love him enough to go with him, but her heart was here with her family. In his gut he knew she’d be miserable so far away from them after the novelty of visiting the city had settled into mundane daily life. His seventh floor apartment overlooking the congested city and highways was no place for a woman who loved flowers and gardening and strolling peaceful streets with her dog. She’d be like those roses they’d found all through the house, cut off to wither and dry.

And then there was her family. Conflict with them was the last thing he wanted. Doting parents like hers wouldn’t be happy about him taking Margie away. Joe had already made his opinion clear, but Joe would be a pain in the ass no matter.

Everything circled around him needing to leave and her needing to stay.

He wasn’t willing to give her up. None of this could be resolved this moment, and surely with some future thought and discussion they could find a solution, but he really wished he knew the right answers now.

Shoving his worries to the back of his mind, he focused on the woman sweetly drowsing in his arms. Would she stay the night? She shouldn’t, but he wished she could. But if she did, Joe would hunt her down here for sure and there’d be no putting off her family’s right to the answers he didn’t have yet.

Enough. They had hours before he had to send her home. Instead of focusing on worries, he should make the best of those hours. He let his eyes fall shut and listened to her soft, restful breathing. His cut and stitches were nagging. Guess he’d messed up on the rest-the-arm instructions. More than worth it though. First, a catnap with her to recharge and then...

He blinked. Sunlight in the room had shifted, striking off the glass shade pull and scattering rainbow shards. He squinted at the clock. He’d napped for a little over an hour. He pressed kisses to her shoulder and stroked his hand over her hip.

A smile curled her rosy mouth, and she stretched like a kitten into his touch, rolling onto her back. The sheet slipped away from her pretty breasts, the scar between them straight and neat, bold against her pale, soft skin. His heart ached for her all over again.

He trailed his hand over her soft belly and up to play with her breast, and then leaned over and closed his mouth over the tight pink tip, loving her gasps and sighs and how she clutched at the sheets. He rained teasing kisses down and down over her delicate skin until he reached his new target and then brought his mouth down on her, chuckling as she gasped, “Chris!” and arched underneath him. Licking and suckling, soft, leisurely, tonguing her until she was trembling, panting and begging, her hands knotted in the bedding, and he was achingly hard.

“That’s so, oh! So good. So much. Please—” She sucked in a startled breath and cried out, shuddering in her release under his grip.

He kissed a slow deliberate trail back up her body in an attempt to rein himself in and give her the gentleness he should have the first time. He found her face flushed and those beautiful sweet eyes of hers shining with passion and her hair in a wild tumble across the pillows.

She raised up and cupped his face, kissing him breathless, and then gave a pointed glance at the open dresser drawer. “Your turn.”

He knelt between her thighs and covered himself, his hands shaking with the intensity of his need and his contrary effort against rushing through any of this time with Margie.

She smiled, offered out her hand, and tugged him to her.

Looking into her eyes as he claimed her, he groaned with the pleasure of easing into the clasp of her tight, wet heat. He stretched over her, twining his fingers in hers, loving the sparkle in her eyes. “How are you doing?” This time they’d go good and slow.

“Wonderful.” Her radiant smile sent his heart into free fall.

Sharing lazy nips and kisses, they found an easy sensual rhythm, even their breath fell into pace together, and all the time his gaze remained locked with hers. He could spend forever looking into her eyes, all the myriad browns, golds, and greens that combined to make such a lovely hazel, fringed with blonde-tipped brown lashes.

Her lips curved into a bemused smile. “A penny for your thoughts.”

“Just drowning in your eyes. With you it’s easy to see how poets would think eyes were the windows to the soul.”

Her smile widened. “I fell for your eyes, when we first met.” She pressed a seeking kiss to his mouth before he could reply, opening her soft lips to him.

Loving her here was so right.

Steady and deep and perfect. Loving Margie.

The first of the answers fell into perfect place, complicated, huge, yet as simple as the hot glide of their bodies together.

Love.

His pulse shot into overdrive. All those crazy feelings he’d avoided naming over the past few weeks? Yeah. Love.

Better realized late than never.

“Oh!” She tightened her fingers on his, her eyes widening, and she lifted against him sharply, taking him deeper.

He shifted, rocking faster, deeper, relishing the sight of her eyes glazing with pleasure. “How’s that?”

“Lovely. Oh, again. That. There.” She gave herself with abandon, striving with him, meeting him, crying out at each stroke, her muscles holding him in a tight grasp.

“Come for me.”

All of her beautiful body tightened, rising toward her release even as she gasped, “I can’t—Oh, Chris, Chris. I—”

He slipped his hand between them. This time he’d make sure she did. “Yes, you can. Come for me. I love you.”

“Love you too—” She cried, shivered, and arched. Margie in midst of her pleasure was the most beautiful sight in his life.

The muscles in his back tensed as he rapidly lost himself in her body, heat sliding along his spine, coiling deep and taut. With one last hard thrust, his release grabbed him hard on the heels of hers, the detonation taking his breath away, stripping his mind to empty, blissed-out mush.

He fell over her, spent and zoned, tugging at enough sense to avoid crushing his weight on her, and to roll with her so she draped pliant over him. He held her close, trying to catch his breath, riding the aftershocks, wanting to stay within her body’s sweet grip as long as possible.

The breeze danced in the curtains and brushed cool tickling shivers over his sweaty skin.

Margie stirred and trailed kisses over his jaw and shivered.

“Cold?” he murmured.

“No. The breeze is perfect. I could use a shower in a bit though, when I can move again, and food.”

“Sounds good.”

She shifted, a faint wince passing over her face.

“You’re sore, I’m sorry.” Knifed with guilt, he withdrew.

She pressed a hand to his chest. “Don’t be. I’m as guilty. I was greedy for you.” She leaned forward and brushed a lingering kiss over his mouth. “It’s the very best kind of ache.”

He hated that he’d caused her any discomfort. He’d been too greedy for her as well. He turned and dealt with the condom. “I would have been more careful. I
should
have been. If I had known you and he—” He bit off his blundering.
Right, put your foot in your mouth, Gordon.
How did you talk about old lovers, or even the lack of them?

“It’s okay.” She sighed and feathered kisses over his shoulder. “He and I, we were...intimate...but, we just never…ah, brought things to completion. So, I knew what I was doing here and what I wanted. I wouldn’t change one moment of being with you. You were sweet and you made me feel...cherished. I haven’t been happier in my life.”

Overwhelmed, he didn’t know what to say to that. He kissed her and blurted a lame, “I’m glad.”

They lazed for a while longer until they were both hungrier than tired and ready to make the walk down the hall to the bathroom.

To his delight, he discovered a new pleasure he’d somehow missed in his other relationships: showering together. He got to touch Margie everywhere, and if that had been extraordinary in bed, it was mind-bending seeing her wet skin slick with soap in the steamy air. And as for her hands on him…Holy shit. With great effort focused on being a gentleman and simply washing up, he restrained himself to touching and kissing, but her satisfied smile and the rush of hot water all dizzily inspired him with potential sensual variations beyond simple bathing. This was going high up on his top-ten list of must do again real soon.

Back in the bedroom, as he dressed and watched Margie combing out her hair, between pleasant flashbacks of their making love, he pondered the contents of his fridge. He had a steak, frozen solid in the freezer. Maybe he should call for takeout. He had bread, eggs, bacon, vegetables. Then he recalled Margie saying she liked breakfast any hour. He’d make her an omelet.

Margie laughed. “My shirt’s still downstairs.”

Standing there in her shorts and bra, she looked pretty darned perfect. He pulled one of his shirts off the hanger. “How’s this for now?” He held the shirt open.

“Thanks.” She slipped her arms into the sleeves.

He liked the jolt of possessive heat at seeing her wear his shirt. He did up the buttons and finished with a teasing kiss to her nose. “There. Time for wine and supper.”

Down in the kitchen, he refilled their wine glasses. “Have a seat. I’ll take care of supper. You want to call your folks and let them know you’ll be home late tonight?” He handed Margie her glass.

“Will I be late?” She sipped at her wine, her smile teasing and eyes sparkling.

He grinned. “I hope so.”

While he washed vegetables, Margie fetched her phone from the sitting room and made her call as she returned to the kitchen. She took a settling breath and dialed. “Hi, Mom. No, I’m really okay. I’m sorry Joe and I keep fighting. I lost my temper. I’m really sorry. I was just so riled. I didn’t mean it. We’ll work it out. I promise.”

Shit, what had her damned brother done now? He caught her gaze and mouthed the question.

She shook her head sadly and mouthed,
later
. “I just wanted to let you know I’m over at Christopher’s and not to worry when I come home late tonight. Yes, ah…having a fun day here.” A bright blush flooded her cheeks. “No, not tonight. I’m sure. He’s cooking me supper. I will. We have plenty of time before he leaves for that. Bye.”

His heart clenched. Plenty of time? No. They had too few days left.

You have ten days. A lot can happen in ten days. Focus on now.

Right. He took a deep swallow of wine, and picked up the knife. “How does hash browns, bacon, and a vegetable omelet sound?”

She set aside the phone and gave him a radiant smile, sparking off the bounding fireworks of guilty joy in his chest. “Perfect.”

Chapter Ten

The days flew by, deeply sweet, and she wouldn’t change a moment of their fleeting time together for the world. They filled every moment, working on the house, sharing memories and wishes, loving at the riverside and up in Christopher’s room, spending quiet time in the office as Christopher worked on his business and she on her writing, talking on the porch as they enjoyed a sunset or thunderstorm. They were careful to avoid discussing “after” more than the bare minimum necessary to organize the arrangements for the house, protecting a perfect little fiction away from the real world and the approaching deadline.

She’d never been happier or more sorrowful.

Mom and Dad and her grandparents stopped by Christopher’s every now and then to say hello and check out the progress on the house and they’d all end the visits sitting out on the porch just talking about whatever with a glass of wine or a beer, as if Christopher were part of the family. Those casual gatherings left her missing Joe and Stephanie all the more. Despite being upset with Joe for the confrontation at the restaurant, Christopher had graciously extended the open invitation to him as well, but Joe always managed to be too busy. Despite her promise to Mom, she’d been unable to close the gulf between her and Joe, and she’d discovered there could be something far worse than his daily nagging: no contact at all. He’d been avoiding her ever since their fight.

Even with Christopher’s business interruptions, they’d made great progress on clearing the house. They’d almost finished sorting the second floor and emptying the outright junk from the basement, carriage house, and barn. He had workmen in to finish the bare minimum of repairs his friend Lloyd had recommended and he’d lined up an appraiser and auctioneer to dispose of the contents he wasn’t earmarking to donate or to keep.

On Wednesday evening, they joined Debi and Baxter for dinner and a movie in Collingswood and they had a rollicking great time. Christopher kept his phone on vibrate while they were eating, merely eying the messages, until he received an email from his friend Nate. He busted out in laughter and shared the photo Nate had sent him of the whole group posed in the water in snorkels, goggles, and swim fins waving and labeled
Wish You Were Here.
He named them all, his voice ringing with affection.