Take This Man (22 page)

“Will
we?” She smiled, but a feeling of disappointment threaded through her. He
wanted her, but it wasn’t enough.

If
Adam offered himself, Elyse would take him. She would take this man, with all
his quirks and fears, because God knows she had plenty of her own. She didn’t
expect him to be perfect. But this time, she was not going to accept less than
a total commitment from him.

This
time, he
had to say the words
.

She
frowned as he winced and rubbed his left eyebrow. “What is it?”

“Just
a headache. The result of too much over-indulgence.”

“Poor
thing.” Elyse massaged his eyebrow with her thumb. “You need some aspirin?”

“I
need this more. I need you.” He kissed her again and wrapped his arms around
her as though he never wanted to let her go. “Elyse, I love you.”

Also
Available

One Good Man

by

Nona Raines

Just
one touch…that’s all Andie Benedetto wants when she glimpses her father’s sexy
neighbor. Images of deep, long kisses and down and dirty sex heat up her
fantasies. When he catches her watching him, she’s embarrassed but undeniably
turned on.

Just
one weekend…that’s all Matthew Vostek can offer Andie. He recognizes her
shyness, but also senses her desire, the same desire he feels. Maybe they can
fulfill each other’s hottest fantasies.

Just
an adventure…that’s what Andie tells herself. Tired of playing the good girl,
she’s ready to accept Matthew’s challenge and enjoy the most exciting sexual
escapade of her life. But when the weekend is over, will Andie finally take
what she wants instead of settling for second best?

Chapter One

Andie
never intended to watch the man next door.

It
all happened because she couldn’t sleep. Tired of kicking around her tangled
sheets, she’d risen out of bed to go to the kitchen for something to drink.

She
didn’t need to turn on the light. The suburban split-level was the home she
grew up in, though now she was here dog sitting while her father was away.
Feeling her way in the dark, she slipped down the hallway. Past the closed door
of the bedroom that used to be her parents’, but now belonged to her father.
Past the bathroom, down the steps, and past the living room where Daisy snored
on the sofa.

Clicking
on the kitchen light, she took a glass from the cupboard and some orange juice
from the fridge. When she glanced out the window above the sink, she saw him.
Matthew Vostek. Sitting on his back steps with his two dogs. A brown-spotted
pit bull sat companionably by his feet while a small white one snuffled in the
grass.

She
thought of that old song, “Moonlight Becomes You.” It certainly became Matthew,
highlighting his handsome profile. But she needed a closer view.

Her
thirst forgotten, Andie set the juice carton aside and edged up to the sliding
glass door looking out on the garden that used to be her mother’s pride, but
was now weedy and wild. Beyond the deck it gave a view of the neighbor’s yard
and of the neighbor himself.

Keeping
herself hidden against the wall, Andie tilted her head enough to glimpse him
through the glass. She caught her breath. His plain dark T-shirt covered a
torso which, while not muscle-bound, was well developed and broad, tapering to
a narrow waist. His arms were well defined. Andie crept closer to the glass.
She swallowed hard as her gaze followed him lifting a bottle to his lips and
tilting his head back to drink.

It
was a warm May evening, pleasant enough to be sitting out. Was he just hanging
out with his canine buddies at the end of a long day? Or did he, like Andie,
have troubles on his mind that kept him from sleep?

Whatever
he was doing, Andie wished she was beside him, sitting on the steps and
hanging, instead of inside this lonely house with its sad memories.

She’d
prefer his company to being alone and worrying about how her father was coping
with her mother’s death. Wondering what her boyfriend Douglas meant by telling
her he “needed some space.” Were they still a couple? Had they broken up, or
what?

Her
life was falling apart.

Andie
already knew quite a bit about Matthew without having said more than a few
words to him. They’d exchanged friendly greetings whenever Andie stopped by to
visit her dad and he happened to be around. Of course she noticed how
good-looking—no, scratch that, how hot—he was, but she’d made no effort to
prolong their conversations. First of all, she’d been living with Douglas—until
he suddenly out of the blue decided to move out because of the needing space
thing. Secondly, well, Andie didn’t trust the man. Matthew was too
good-looking. Too hot. The kind of man who had to be a player.

Still,
that didn’t keep her from soaking up the interesting tidbits of information the
neighborhood gossips offered.

She
knew he and his brother ran a lawn and garden business, which accounted for his
broad shoulders and well-defined arms as well as his suntan.

She
knew he was single. She knew he’d planned to move in with a girlfriend, a
fiancée. But something had gone wrong. Matthew arrived and the fiancée never
showed. Opinions varied. No one definitely knew the cause of the break-up.

Andie’s
guess was he was one more guy who couldn’t keep his pants zipped.

Her
mind told her all this, but did her body care? Not a chance.

Inching
forward, Andie imagined taking the bottle from him and bringing it to her
mouth, placing her lips exactly where his had been.

She
moistened her dry lips. Whatever was in that bottle—beer, pop, or iced tea, she’d
press her lips to his and share the drink with him. She’d give him open-mouthed
tongue kisses, lick down his chin, his throat, his chest. Then she’d pull his
T-shirt up until it bunched under his arms, swirl her tongue around his
nipples, suck them, and bite them.

Heat
pooled in her abdomen and swirled higher, filling her breasts and tightening
her nipples as she thought about all the things she dreamed of doing to him.
And all the things she wanted him to do to her.

She
clenched her thighs together as desire throbbed lower, thrumming like a
heartbeat. If she’d been wearing panties, they’d have been wet. Instead, a
trickle of moisture ran down her thighs. Andie ached to take off her nightgown
and flatten her naked body against the cool glass.

She
had to be crazy. A man like Matthew was dangerous. He’d broken his girlfriend’s
heart and was most likely biding his time before breaking someone else’s.

A
woman would never be safe with someone like him.

But
Andie’s body wasn’t interested in safe. It wanted this man, and to hell with
the consequences.

She
froze as something brushed her bare leg. Daisy, her father’s aged Golden
Retriever, stood beside her. Daisy saw the dogs in the next yard and barked,
wanting to join them, even though her arthritic old bones made her a poor
playmate. At the sound, Matthew turned, and Andie was caught like a deer in the
headlights of an oncoming car, too stunned to move.

Frozen
there, she was sure she looked like some perverted peeping Thomasina or
worse—some desperate sex-deprived loser. Which wasn’t far from the truth.

An
instant later she regained use of her limbs and quickly stepped away, out of
Matthew’s sight. Her heart thumped as she shook her head in disbelief. God,
what was she doing?

Andie
dragged herself back to the safety of her bedroom—with one stop at the bathroom
sink to splash water on her flushed face. The water cooled her hot cheeks but
did nothing for the heat between her thighs. Even being caught red-handed, so
to speak, during her erotic fantasies was not enough to extinguish them.

Andie
slid into bed and kicked off the blankets and sheet. Her skin felt hot and
tender, the throbbing between her legs unbearable. Her thoughts were full of
Matthew, and she easily slipped back into the fantasy she’d enjoyed in the
kitchen.

She
imagined sliding his T-shirt up his chest, bunching it under his arms. The
cotton was soft from many washings and smelled of detergent as Andie nuzzled
her nose to it. Her fingertips skimmed over the soft skin of his chest. His
nipples were hard little points made harder by the swirling motion of her
fingers around them. She lowered her head to taste them while her hands combed
through the rough hair. He tasted clean and slightly salty from sweat.

In
her fantasy, Matthew’s hands were busy, too. They inched up under her short
nightgown, performing a teasing dance on her hips and ass. They tickled and
tormented, but as good as it felt, his hands were not where she wanted them.

He
grasped her butt, a cheek in each hand, and Andie didn’t mind. Usually she didn’t
like that particular part of her anatomy played with, it was where her excess
weight settled. But she didn’t care now, she was into the fantasy, she was into
him, and he could touch her any way and anywhere he wanted.

He
lifted her. She had to stop kissing his chest, but that was okay, because now
his mouth was right there, and she didn’t merely kiss it—she devoured it. It
was the sweetest, most decadent mouth she’d ever tasted, and she wanted as much
as she could get before someone came along and said, “You’ve had enough, Andie,
no more for you.” She sucked his lower lip into her mouth, nipped it, then
laved the sting away with her tongue. Her tongue undulated against his, dueled
with his, licked it again and again to savor every bit of his luscious flavor.

In
her imagination, her breasts, so full and so tender, were crushed against his
chest. She wanted him to use his lips on her, to be as attentive to her nipples
as she had been to his. But at the same time it was delicious torture to rub
them against him. The silkiness of the nightgown and the rough hair on his
chest created a delicious friction that shot sparks straight down her spine to
the moist folds between her legs.

It
didn’t matter now if the man was a player. At this moment Andie didn’t care.
She wanted to be used. This wasn’t about love. It was about getting off.

Andie
moaned, lying in bed imagining the scene. The fingers of one hand drifted down
between her legs while her other palmed a breast. She skimmed her wet lips then
zeroed in on the part of her aching to be touched. Her fingers whisked over her
swollen clit, and she pretended it was Matthew touching her.

In
her fantasy she spread her thighs wide around his hips as he rocked against
her, pressing the bulge in his jeans against her. The ache grew and grew as he
rocked and rubbed, holding her lower body against his. Her lips grew plumper,
her eyelids drooped, her breath rasped in her chest. Close, she was so close.

Andie
touched herself one more time and she came, her pelvis arching off the bed as
the waves of pleasure crashed over her. Prickles of delight raced along her
nerves, to her fingers, her toes, even her tender, swollen lips. All sound was
drowned out by the rush of blood in her ears and the pounding of her heart. The
contractions tightened and released until it was almost painful.

When
the climax subsided she released a long breath, exhausted and completely
satisfied. Well, as satisfied as possible all by herself. She rolled to her
side and smiled, then frowned as she remembered her fantasy lover had been left
unfulfilled.

Oh,
well. There was always tomorrow night.

To
purchase
One Good Man
and other erotic titles, visit www.thewilderroses.com.