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Good with His Hands(30)

By:Tanya Michaels




       

He'd told Dani all during her adolescence that one day she'd find her  special someone. As she'd entered her midtwenties, she'd begun to  question that belief. When Tate had proposed, she'd thought she'd  finally met her fabled match. She didn't want her breakup with Tate to  leave her cynical-he wasn't entitled to hold that much sway over her.  Yet, as she stepped gingerly across shards of broken glass and watched  her father's equally broken expression, she wondered if perhaps not  finding that one special person could be a blessing, too.

* * *

"I'M SORRY ABOUT the movie," Dani said as Sean made the turn into her  apartment complex. "I know pizza and poker with my father wasn't the  plan."

He shot her a grin. "I haven't had so many dates chaperoned by parents  since I was fourteen." When she didn't laugh, he added, "I didn't mind.  Really. This gives me an excuse to ask for a rain check on the movie and  see you again soon."

Dani couldn't find Meg's car in the lot. When they walked inside the  apartment, it was all dark except for the entryway nightlight.

She smacked a palm to her forehead, her memory belatedly kicking in.  "Meg's hosting a bridal shower at the shop tonight! She told me days ago  that she'd be out late, but I forgot." Possibly because she had a  mental block when it came to anything bridal.

"They have those at lingerie shops?" he asked, sounding intrigued. "I  thought showers were more Sunday dresses and mini-sandwiches while the  bride-to-be opens plates and monogrammed towels."

"What a sadly narrow mind," she chided. "My bridal shower-" That was so  not what she wanted to think about right now. "Suffice it to say, Meg's  my best friend, so it was a bit more creative and less G-rated than  what you describe. Now." She clutched the front of his shirt in both  hands. "Do you want to stand around discussing potential shower gifts,  or do you want to make the most of our time alone in a roommate-free  apartment?"

He backed her to the nearest wall, leaning in with agonizing slowness,  each heartbeat an eternity before their lips touched. But his teasing  finesse didn't last long. When her tongue slid against his, he pressed  into her, deepening their kiss, his mouth moving on hers with ravenous  need.

He dropped his hands to her ass and lifted her. With her legs wrapped  around his waist, he carried her toward the bedroom. The motion of his  long strides, the jostling friction between her thighs, sent her soaring  into a state of heightened sensitivity. By the time her feet touched  the floor again in her room, she was nearly too aroused to stand.

Taking a moment to catch his breath, he flashed her a lopsided grin. "I have some very fond memories of this room."

So did she. Yet she also vividly recalled the last time they'd been  here together, when he'd admitted who he was and she'd felt like twelve  degrees of idiot. She shrank from the recollection, wanting to savor  being with him now.

"Hey." There was genuine delight in his voice. "You kept her."

She followed his gaze to the tiny winged fairy on the nightstand, the one that had been nestled in the floral arrangement.

"I was afraid you might throw her out," he admitted. "Or refuse  delivery of the flowers altogether." The note of vulnerability in his  voice tugged at her heart, making it easier to banish unpleasant  memories and her lingering fear of being made a fool. She wasn't the  only one emotionally exposed here.

He brushed his fingers over the slope of her neck. "I wish I'd sent you  flowers today. Then I could run the petals over your skin."

"Nice thought, but I want to feel your touch without anything between us." Not even the fine velvet of rose petals.

"Then we should really do something," he murmured against her lips, "about all these clothes."

There was no more talking then, only fervent kisses as they undressed  one another, exploring each other's bodies and doing their best to make  up for the weeks they'd missed each other.

Sean sat on the edge of her bed, shucking his socks and then his  briefs. She stared unabashedly, loving every line of his amazingly  sculpted body. Her gaze swept over the dark hair on his chest down to  his jutting erection. She considered sinking to her knees and tasting  him, but he reached for her before she got the chance, toppling her onto  the mattress with him.

With a muffled squeal, she landed astride him and decided this was  good, too. More than good. Sprawled across him, she kissed him hungrily  while his hands stroked and kneaded. Fire spread through her, arousal a  pulse at her core, her nipples puckered into tight buds. She propped  herself up to give him better access to her breasts, and he happily took  advantage.                       
       
           



       

He cupped her breasts together, his thumbs teasing both peaks, until  she was nearly mindless. She bucked against him, so slick that all it  would have taken was a slight movement of his hips to be inside her.  Temporarily regaining sense, she pulled a condom out of the nightstand.  When he reached for the packet, she shook her head.

"Let me." She rolled it over the length of him, then raised herself  above him, her entire body quaking with desire. She wrapped her hand  around the base of his erection and lowered herself, her eyes nearly  rolling back at the intense pleasure of him filling her. Her inner  muscles squeezed around him as she rocked back on her heels. His hands  returned to her breasts, and she moved faster, wilder, a creature with  no inhibitions. Their moans formed a frantic duet that bounced off the  walls around them.

Distantly aware of the mattress squeaking, she reached for the  headboard, using it for leverage as bright rapture spiraled through her.  He gripped her waist, pumping into her fast and hard before finding his  own release with a wordless shout.

Dani collapsed on top of him, limp and gloriously spent. She closed her  eyes, waiting for her breath to even out and her heart rate to slow.  Afterglow gradually ebbed into reality. She realized that she was  parched, and that it was really hot in here.

"I'm going to get something to drink and adjust the air-conditioning."  She gave him an apologetic smile. "And you should probably get dressed.  Meg will be home soon."

"If she's not already. I don't know about you, but I wasn't paying a lot of attention to outside noise."

She felt a blush climb in her cheeks. Truthfully, there could have been  a parade taking place in the next room, and she wouldn't have noticed.  "I hope you understand why I'm not inviting you to stay over. The three  of us, only the one master bath...it would be awkward." There was a  superstitious part of her that whispered at least this way, she wouldn't  wake up to any uncomfortable surprises.

"I have to be on-site at daybreak tomorrow anyway. If I slept over, I'd  worry about disturbing you and Meg in the morning. But next time, we  should do this at my place." He grinned. "I'll even get a multipack of  toothbrushes so you'll have your pick."

Next time. The words sent a thrill of anticipation through her that  startled her. It was odd, feeling so anxious to see him again when he  hadn't even left yet. But intuition told her making love with Sean  wasn't a fleeting craving that could be satisfied. It was more like an  addiction, growing stronger every time. If she weren't careful, she  could lose herself in it.

* * *

IT WAS TOO early Saturday morning for many people to be in the shop  yet, and Meg was using the time to catch up on a few paperwork issues in  the tiny office behind the cashier area. She was printing coupon flyers  for a bra sale when Marissa let out a low whistle.

"I so hope the guy window-shopping comes into the store," her sister  called to her. "He is- Good morning." Her formerly lascivious tone was  now pure professionalism. "How can I help you?"

"Actually." A man cleared his throat. "I was looking for Meg."

Recognition of that deep voice kicked in, a fluttery feeling low in her  belly. It had been several days since Dani said Bryce had asked about  her, and Meg hadn't truly believed anything would come of it.

"Meg?" Marissa's tone was admirably casual, as if movie-star-hot men  came into the store all the time seeking her younger sister.

Meg wiped her suddenly clammy palms on the sides of her pants. The lime  green capris and blue peasant blouse with matching lime ribbon accents  were a far cry from country club garb. She'd twisted her curly hair in a  knot at the back of her head, secured haphazardly by a pen she'd been  using earlier.

Bryce, on the other hand, looked much the same as he had the last time  she'd seen him. His hair was flawlessly styled, not a strand out of  place, and he wore dark slacks with a crisp button-down shirt. This was  his idea of Saturday morning wear? Didn't the guy own shorts or jeans?