A Sip of You(52)

Instead, not really knowing what I was doing, I reached over and smeared pink frosting onto his nipple. He was cold, his nipple was hard, and I leaned forward and put my hot mouth on him, licking the pink frosting off with a swipe of my tongue. He didn’t move. He didn’t even seem to breathe. He stood completely still. I was too afraid to look at him, to see his reaction, but he hadn’t stopped me, so I swiped frosting on his other nipple and licked that off too.

I could feel his arousal in the heat radiating off him. I saw it in his tight stance, and the way he fisted his hands at his sides. I looked up at his face and saw his eyes had turned molten grey. The color of arousal. My favorite color these days.

With my gaze locked on his, I wrote a C on the center of his chest in bright pink. It was my version of branding him. Then, licking my lips, I bent and marked him with my tongue. I lifted my hand to write the A—I could have done this all evening—but William moved first. His hands closed on my waist and he lifted me to the counter, his mouth coming down hard on mine as he sat me down. My legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, pulling his hard heat against my core.

“You’re so sweet,” he murmured as our mouths came together again and again. I knew he was tasting the frosting, and I rubbed my tongue along his to give him the full flavor. He groaned, and his hands on my hips tightened. His mouth turned fierce, his kisses mirroring his need for me. Slowly, deliberately, his hands moved up my body, exploring, tracing, teasing, until I was breathless and pressing my hips against his hard erection. He cupped my face, slanting his mouth over mine again and again until I was dizzy with desire.

“Damn.” William pulled back, and I grasped his shoulder to keep from falling sideways. From somewhere far away I heard a buzz.

“Timer,” William said.

“I knew that.”

He gave me a knowing smile, and pulled me to the edge of the counter. I slid down his body until my feet landed on the floor. We stood like that for a long moment, pressed together, our gazes lasered on each other. And then he pulled away, silenced the timer, and announced that the beef bourguignon was ready.

We cleaned up then sat at the table and ate the delicious meal. It was rich and hearty—perfect, as William had said, for the cold night. We drank wine and kept our conversation casual. Clearly, the tension had passed. For the most part. I knew our disagreements were waiting just under our comfortable truce, but neither of us wanted to raise them to the surface again tonight.

I presented the plate of Beckett’s creations for dessert, and William chose a chocolate éclair and a cheesecake pop. I nibbled a deep pink raspberry macaron that reminded me of the color of William’s rosé in Napa, and resisted the urge to eat a cupcake.

“These are better than expected,” William said, licking his fingers. “They’ll be perfect.”

I frowned. “Perfect for what?”

“Just perfect,” he said with a shrug. By the time we’d finished cleaning up the kitchen, William was yawning. He tried to hide it, but I caught him once or twice. He must have been exhausted. Not only had he gone on a long walk and cooked a gourmet dinner, he’d just flown through a snowstorm to get here. If his plane had been diverted to Omaha, he’d probably spent the night there.

I also knew how much he hated flying, and he’d certainly had to do a lot of it the past few days. His nerves must be frayed and his body on the verge of collapse. Once again I’d been selfish. How could I not have realized how exhausted he must be? And yet, he’d come to see me. He’d cooked me dinner. He’d put me first.

I took his hand and led him to the bedroom, crawling into bed after him. He spooned me and nuzzled my neck. He was clearly willing to make the effort, and I was tempted to let him, but I knew he needed sleep more than sex. A moment later, his breathing grew deep and regular. I lay awake for some time, safe in his arms, and trying not to read too much into the fact that this was the first time we’d slept together and not had sex.





Eleven




William stirred beside me, and I opened my eyes, expecting complete darkness. It was dark, but grey light filtered through the slats in the blinds. A quick glance at my phone told me it was almost six-thirty. “What happened to your four AM wake-up call?” I said with a yawn.

“You proved too great a temptation this morning,” he said, nuzzling my neck.

“Good.”

“Good?” His lips moved to my jaw and his hand caressed my breast.

“I love waking up with you. I keep telling you that.” It was a rare occurrence and made this morning all the more special. I turned to face him, intending to kiss him lightly good morning, but he pulled me against his chest and kissed me deeply. His hand on my breast felt good as it kneaded and massaged my tender flesh.