Romancing My Love(27)

“God, I love how you turn me on,” he whispered against her neck.

He didn’t think of the words he said; he just let his emotions speak for themselves. He didn’t care if he said like or love or fuck or damn. He could no better rationalize a thought than he could refrain from hooking his thumbs in her jeans and panties and pulling them straight to the ground, then crouching to help her lift each foot from the harsh material and stepping out of his own clothes. He turned her around, pressing his hard length to her sweet, round ass, and took her neck in his mouth, sucking as she ground her backside into him. He clutched her waist and held her tightly, slid one hand flat against her stomach, and lower, until his fingers touched her curls.

She arched her neck. “Touch me, Pierce. Love me. Make me come.”

He slid his hand down the curve of her belly to her inner thigh. She gasped a breath and held it as he squeezed his way back up her thigh to her sex and stroked her wetness. She craned her neck, and he took her in another kiss as he plunged his fingers deeper. She turned in his arms, and he touched and teased her into halted breaths. Her lacy red bra scratched his chest as she pressed against him, her body pleading for more. Using his teeth, he dragged each strap down her arm, until the flimsy material balanced at the edge of her taut nipples. He could smell her arousal as he slid his finger in and out of her velvety heat, and—finally—God, finally—unhooked her bra, freeing her luscious breasts. He brushed his thumb over her nipple as he dragged his tongue along her lower lip. She gripped his wrist at her center and urged him deeper, holding him there as she rose to the edge and went up on her toes as an orgasm tore through her. He caught her gasps in his mouth, his fingers still working their magic, and as the thrum of her release eased, he took her to bed.

It was his turn.

He wanted to be inside her. Now. Fast and hard and buried so deep she could feel him in her throat. He paused long enough to think about a condom. Goddamn condom. For twenty years he’d used them faithfully, and now, with Rebecca, he wanted to feel her, all of her, without a latex sheath between them.

He gazed into her loving eyes. “Bec, are you on the pill?”

She shook her head. “It’s been years since I’ve been with anyone.”

He closed his eyes as disappointment welled inside him, and then he reached for a condom, tabling the conversation for another time.

She was tight and eager as he slid into her. She wrapped her arms around him, bringing him as close as he could be, hip to hip, his heat buried deep inside her. All of the emotions he’d been battling came rushing forward.

“Rebecca, look at me. Be with me.”

Her lids fluttered open. Her gaze was sensual, and he knew he wasn’t imagining what he felt between them. He’d been with enough women to know that the look in her eyes ran deeper than desire. Her lips curled up as her eyes focused on his.

“I…” The words were on the tip of his tongue, but they were so big that he began to wonder if they needed more of a stage, a momentous presentation.

“What…?” She ran her fingers along his back, sending shivers of wanting through him.

“I’m falling for you, Becca. I know you’re working on your life and you’ve just lost your mom, but…You’ve become everything to me.”

Her brows drew together, and she pressed her hands to his cheeks in that way he’d come to love—and crave. “I know. I can see it in your eyes.”

He touched his forehead to hers.

“And I feel it, too. We’re totally in sync, even if we’re from different worlds.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, and with all of the love that she’d woken within him, he lowered his lips to hers, sealing their words, and their bodies took over.





Chapter Fourteen


MUCH LATER, REBECCA and Pierce lay on the bed, nose to nose, each with a hand on the other’s cheeks. Rebecca’s mind was still floating in the clouds from their lovemaking. Pierce made love to her as if he cherished every second just as much as she did, like he wanted it to go on forever. He didn’t rush her after his own release. He took his time, caressing her cheek, her hip, her arms, pressing soft kisses to her face and remaining inside her until he was too soft to hold his place. She played their lovemaking over in her mind, lingering on his whispers in her ear. She’d heard the desire in his voice when he asked if she was on the pill, and she’d nearly said to make love to her and just pull out, but she had too many things she had yet to accomplish to take a chance like that. Pierce had been with so many women that she had to be smart, too.

“I never imagined feeling like this about anyone,” Pierce admitted. “You. Us. It’s all so unexpected.”

She cuddled in closer. “Completely unexpected. Relationships haven’t been anywhere near my radar screen for years.”

He kissed her lips and draped his arm over her waist. “Did you miss intimacy? You’re so young to have given up so much for so long.”

She shook her head. “When you’re in that situation, there’s no room for missing or wishing for something else. At least for me there wasn’t. I was busy trying to remain employed, which I didn’t do a great job of, keeping track of pills and medical appointments, and…I don’t want to talk about this, because you’re going to fall into pity mode like everyone else and I don’t want to ruin what we have.” She was frustrated with herself as much as the situation. There was always a look when she spoke of these things, and she knew she overreacted to it, and sometimes she called it pity when she wasn’t even sure it was. But whatever it was, it made her feel uncomfortable, and it bothered her enough that she was unable to keep herself from reacting so vehemently to it.

“Babe, talk to me. Let me into your life. I promise I won’t pity you. I want to know all of you, not just the sexy, fun parts. I want to understand what you’ve been through and where you hope to go. It’s really okay for people to say they’re sorry and to feel sad that you missed out on things; that’s not pitying you.”

Rebecca sat up and pulled the sheet over her chest. She loved how he wasn’t afraid to express himself, even if she might not want to hear what he had to say, and that he cared enough to ask difficult questions. Most guys would stay away from uncomfortable subjects like her mother’s death, as if her disease were contagious. He said all the right things and she believed him, but he still didn’t understand.

“Don’t you see, Pierce? I didn’t miss out on anything. I made sure of it. I was there for the only thing that mattered—spending time with, and taking care of, my mom. If you would have given me a million dollars and said, Here, hire someone to care for her and go live your life, what do you think I would have done?”

“Aw, Bec.”

“No, I’m being serious.” She wasn’t yelling or even raising her voice, but her tone was serious and she saw in Pierce’s eyes that he heard it loud and clear. “Pierce, I loved taking care of my mom as much as I hated it. It was hard, damn hard, but we had time together that, if I were too wrapped up in myself, we never would have had.”

Pierce wrapped his arms around her and pressed her head to his chest. Chivalrous. It’s who he was.

She remained against him for a minute, maybe two, then pushed away gently. “I know you care about me, and I know you want to hear all about what I’ve gone through, but you can’t look at me like that, or I can’t open up to you.”

“Like what?”

“Like you wish you could fix it.” Her heart was in a tug-of-war. She loved that he cared and wanted to fix things for her, and at the same time, she hated the fixing part. She never felt like she’d missed out on life, and she didn’t want to be seen as someone who had.

“How can I change that, Bec? I know I can’t fix it, but I’m human, and I care about you, so you’re going to see that I wish I could.”

“Then wear sunglasses when we talk.” She felt herself smile.

“Wait. Stay right there.” He leaned forward and brushed something from her shoulder.

“What was it?”

“It’s that chip you carry around.” He smiled and it made her smile.

Rebecca knew that she wasn’t an easy person for someone to love. She was strong and she had her own beliefs about who she was and how she lived her life, and she could only hope that Pierce might someday understand why those things were hard to change—or even if they ever would.

“Look, I get it. Okay? My father left, and I hate it when people act like I missed out on someone great, because I didn’t. I think it’s the same feeling as you get when people say they’re sorry about your mom. That look is why I don’t talk about him, so I really do get it. I just can’t help that I care enough to want to fix it for you. I’m afraid that no matter how hard I try, you’re going to see that look in my eyes, Bec. Maybe you don’t really want to open up to me.”

She dropped her eyes and ran her thumb over her mother’s ring. “But I do like to talk about my mom with you. I don’t talk to anyone else about her. Maybe we can find a middle ground? I’ll talk and you look away.”