There's Only Been You (21 page)

Sara chewed on her bottom lip, knowing that if she went with him, they'd end up in bed together. It was something they both wanted and, if they were alone together, it would happen. No question about it. He made her ache in a way no other man ever had.

"All right, I'll come."

Mike's eyes gleamed in the darkened hallway. “Yes, you will."

He pulled her against his chest and kissed her again, coaxing her lips with his tongue while his hands caressed her back, her hips, her backside.

She tore her mouth away, her breathing labored. “Let me just go tell someone where I'll be. I'll meet you out in your truck."

Mike chuckled. “Hell, it's like we're teenagers again, only we're hiding from our son instead of your uncle and brothers."

Sara giggled. “You're right, it is."

Two minutes later, Mike parked his truck in his new garage and closed the overhead door with the press of a button. They entered through the garage, which led into a breezeway and then the kitchen.

Sara felt like a little kid again as she walked into the house. She could almost taste the homemade chocolate fudge Mrs. Pankovich used to make right in this very kitchen, smell the fresh-brewed tea the older woman had been so fond of. Besides fudge, she'd also mixed up huge batches of popcorn balls every Halloween and invited Sara down to help her wrap them. One of Sara's best childhood memories.

She'd always thought of this place as such a grand house and imagined living in it someday. How ironic that her son's father now owned the house she'd coveted most of her life. Surprisingly, the thought didn't cause her any pangs of jealousy like it had at first.

Okay, maybe a teensy one.

"I'd almost forgotten how big the kitchen is in this old house,” she said, running her hand over the smooth Formica countertop. The harvest gold appliances were outdated, but they'd been well taken care of. Mrs. Pankovich had taken pride in her home and, when she passed on, her husband had obviously done the same.

"I fell in love with the place as soon as I walked in. And the fact that it was so close to you and Ethan was an added bonus.” He walked up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Maybe every once in a while you can take pity on me and come fix me a home-cooked meal."

She glanced up at him through her lashes. “Maybe I will—if you're nice to me."

"Sweetheart, I plan on being real nice to you. Starting right now."

Sara turned so she could wrap her arms around his neck, and he leaned down to capture her lips. Lord, how she loved the rasp of his tongue against hers, the warmth of his breath as it feathered across her cheek, the softness of his lips. He deepened the kiss, cupped her backside with both hands and pulled her up hard against him.

His breathing grew heavy and he tore his mouth away to ask, “Which room should we christen?"

She grinned up at him. “Preferably one with carpeting. The softer, the better."

"Don't worry, I bought one of those bed-in-a-bag sets today. I even remembered to wash everything."

"Oh? Pretty damn sure of yourself, aren't you?” She playfully tweaked the hair at the nape of his neck.

"I planned on sleeping here tonight anyway. I can't spend another night in my parents’ house."

"I know.” She reached up to caress his cheek.

"Hey now, no sad face. It'll ruin the mood.” He swung her up into his arms and headed for the staircase.

"Somehow, I doubt anything could ruin the mood for you."

He laughed. “True enough. But it's your fault. You're just so damn sexy."

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that's me. A regular sex kitten."

"You're the sexiest woman I've ever known."

"And just how many women
have
you known?” The words slipped out before she could stop them. She tried to make light of it. “Please tell me I didn't say that out loud."

"The only woman who matters—who's ever mattered—is the one in my arms right now."

She reached up and cupped his cheek. More than anything she wanted to believe him. Believe
in
him.

He reached the second floor, made a right, and kicked open the first door on the left. The room was empty except for the new bedding he'd mentioned, which he'd already set up on the carpet. He dropped to his knees and gently laid her on the comforter. He reached over to flip the light on in the closet.

"You could've left the light off,” she said, stretching out on the comforter. “I'm not afraid of the dark."

"But then I wouldn't be able to see that gorgeous body of yours, and that just won't do.” He leaned over and kissed her again.

Sara twined her arms around his neck and pulled him down. Her hands found their way beneath his shirt, desperate to feel his warm, naked flesh. She didn't feel as awkward as she had last night at the hotel. This was Mike, the only lover she'd ever known—the only man she wanted inside her.

He peeled off his shirt and tossed it aside before reaching down to help her with hers. Once the last button was undone, he pushed the blouse open and smiled. Her bra unclasped in the front. He opened it with deft fingers, then bent down and drew one of her nipples into his mouth.

She moaned, arching her back, the feel of his hot mouth on her breast almost too much to bear. He released it, but only to lavish her other nipple with the same sweet attention.

Mike leaned back, pulling her up with him. He stripped her of her blouse and bra, then reached down to unbutton her pants. Sara reached over and tried to do the same, but he stopped her. “No,” he whispered, “you first."

He laid her back down onto the downy-soft comforter and literally peeled her pants down her legs. Sara laughed softly. “Sorry. If I'd known we were going to end up here, I'd have worn something a little looser."

"I swear, just looking at you I could explode.” He reached up and hooked both his index fingers into the waistband of her panties, then slowly pulled them down. He looked up in surprise when her legs tensed. “Sara? What is it, sweetheart?"

"It's just ... well, the closet light is shining right ... there,” she finished, feeling like an idiot for this sudden display of shyness.

Mike's lips curved. “Yeah, that was sort of the point. But if you're uncomfortable—"

"No.” She swallowed and tried to steel her nerves. “No, you're the only man I've ever felt comfortable enough with to..."

When her words trailed off, he reached back up and flipped off the closet light.

"Mike, you didn't have to do that.” She sighed, feeling silly for making a big deal about it.
Good Lord, you're a grown woman, not an adolescent girl
!

"I want you to feel completely comfortable whenever we make love. Now tell me what you meant by, ‘I'm the only man you've ever felt comfortable with.’ You've never felt like someone was trying to ... force you to—"

Her eyes widened when she realized what he was so delicately trying to say. “No! Of course not. That's not what I meant."

Her panties forgotten halfway down her thighs, Mike leaned downed and kissed her. “Then what
did
you mean?"

She gazed up at him, but all she could make out were those incredible blue eyes. She wanted to tell him he was the only man she'd ever been with, but was afraid. Afraid he'd think there was something wrong with her. Because for a long time,
she'd
thought there was something wrong with her. What if he were disappointed by her lack of experience? Mike had no doubt been with lots of women. What if he found her lacking? She bit her lip. She knew she was being silly. They'd made love last night and it'd been wonderful—hot, passionate, intense.

"Sweetheart, if there's something bothering you, just tell me. You know you can tell me anything."

"It's ... kind of embarrassing. I mean, I'm not ashamed or anything. It's just somewhat hard to explain."

"Well, you certainly have me curious.” He shifted so that he was lying on his side.

She turned toward him, mainly in an effort to gain a little modesty. Mike reached over and caressed her hip. His big warm hand felt so good she almost forgot what they were talking about.

"Maybe we should ... can we just forget about this?"

"Sara, tell me."

She took a deep breath. “There's only been you."

His hand stilled. “What?"

"I've never, you know, slept with anyone but you. I don't have that much experience. Just what you and I have ... are you laughing? Michael William Andrews, this is not the least bit funny!"

She tried to sit up, but he anchored her down with an arm around her waist. “Honey, I'm not laughing at you. It's just, Christ, you had me imagining all kinds of things, when all you had to tell me was the best news I've ever heard? Well, with the exception of finding out I have a son."

"You say, ‘all I had to tell you’ as if it wasn't a big deal. Well, it's a big deal to me."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it. Come on, sweetheart, I don't want to fight. The fact that I'm the only man you've ever been with is surprising, yes, but in a good way.” He leaned down and kissed her. “A very good way."

He gently guided her until she was once again lying on her back. “Now, the only thing I want you to think about right now is how good I'm going to make you feel."

Sara offered no resistance as Mike finished stripping off her panties and tossed them to the side with the rest of her clothes. He leaned over and kissed her, trailing a moist path down her throat, between her breasts, stopping to lavish each nipple yet again while his intoxicatingly masculine scent drove her mad with wanting him.

Sara moaned, arching into his hot, wet mouth, her hands coming up to clench in his hair. Her mind told her that no sex for almost a decade was the reason he could bring her to the brink so quickly, so easily. But her heart argued that only Mike could make her feel this way, no matter how much time had gone by. He hadn't even touched her below the navel, yet she could already feel how wet she'd become.

As teenagers experimenting with sex, Sara remembered how mortified she'd been when he'd reached inside her underwear that first time and discovered she was wet. But Mike, who'd been almost as inexperienced as she, had assured her it was normal and even seemed to become more aroused by it. And then he'd stroked and caressed her until she'd had her first orgasm.

She'd thought of that night often over the years.

Mike continued moving down her body, trailing a hot, wet path with his lips and tongue across her stomach, stopping to dip his tongue inside her navel. He leaned back and used both hands to spread her legs. Sara closed her eyes and licked her lips.

He leaned down and pressed his mouth against her silken flesh just above the vee of flame-colored curls.

Sara half-lifted off the floor. “Mike? I-I'm not ready for that."

He gently pressed her back down into the soft folds of the comforter. “Relax, sweetheart."

"But, Mike—"

He slipped his hand between her legs and stroked slowly upward, until his fingers were wet with the proof of her need.

Sara gasped and clenched the comforter with both hands. She was so incredibly sensitive that his touch was enough to bring her right to the edge. It was a curse—and a blessing. He stroked his finger back and forth across her moist flesh, then slipped inside her, just an inch. Sara lifted her hips off the floor in breathless anticipation.

Mike glanced up and searched her face in the moonlight. “My God, are you that close?"

Sara managed to nod her head. “I can't help it."

"It's okay. I don't want you to hold back. I want you to let it happen and enjoy every second of it. You can scream your heart out, baby, and no one can hear you except me. It's just you, me, and this big empty house."

He moved down the length of her until he was lying between her legs. He gripped her by the back of each knee and gently positioned her until her thighs were lying wide open, her knees practically resting against the floor.

"Oh ... no, Mike, please—"

"Shhhh,” he whispered. His hands skimmed up her legs, over quivering thighs, to the heart of her. With his thumb, Mike found her clitoris and caressed tiny circles on it before leaning forward to stroke her with his tongue.

Sara cried out. She clenched his hair in both hands and moved frantically as the most powerful orgasm rocked through her. The convulsions seemed to last forever, and she thought she might perish from such intense pleasure. Finally, with a shaky sigh, she collapsed onto the comforter.

Mike rose to his knees and reached for the button of his jeans.

Sara let out a sound of distress and dragged herself to her knees in front of him. She brushed his hands away. “Your turn."

She unbuttoned his jeans, stroked the zipper down his erection, then worked both his jeans and boxer briefs down his hips.

Sara had never performed oral sex on Mike, but after the sweet ecstasy he'd just given her, she knew he deserved no less. She reached out and wrapped her hand around his shaft, felt him pulse. She stroked him up and down a few times, gently, feeling more confident with each groan she wrung from him. “Lie down so I can finish undressing you,” she said, releasing him.

Mike complied, and she wasted no time stripping off the rest of his clothes. When he was completely naked, she sat astride his thighs and took him in her hands again. She stroked him, caressed him, relearned every inch of him from the tip of his head to the base of his shaft, all as Mike watched her through heavy-lidded eyes.

When she cupped him in her hands, Mike bucked, nearly tossing her off of him. Her soft laughter filled the room. “I guess I'm not the only one who's sensitive."

Mike made a sound that was half groan, half laugh. “You're a fast learner, that's for sure."

"And I haven't even gotten to the best part yet,” she promised, pushing him back down.

"Sweetheart, I don't know how much more I can take."

He reached for her, but Sara was not to be denied. She shook off his hands and tossed her head. “I let you. Now you let me."

Mike licked his lips, but remained still.

She braced one hand on the floor and curled the other around his erection, then leaned over and took him into her mouth. She moved her lips slowly down, taking in more than she'd ever imagined she could, then back up, stroking him with her tongue.