"Full points for trickery." He snatched the chair from her grasp and shoved it out of the way.
Three steps. Two steps.
Bump. Her back hit the wall and Mick leaned in, trapping her against the rough wood. "Got you."
"Brute," she whispered, her chest rising and falling between them.
"Take me down, then," he said quietly, gliding his fingertips along her jaw and down her neck. "Torture me until you get me to admit other things."
"Like what?"
"Like I love you." His eyes crinkled just a bit as he said it, suddenly sober again.
Oh. She sucked in a breath and held it. He loved her?
The four letter word she'd been holding in burst out of her so fast she barely heard herself say it back. "Love you too."
"Cara-"
"I wanted to tell you the other night," she said, the words still tumbling out of her mouth. "When we made love at my place. But it was too fast, too scary. So I didn't say it then, but I do. Love you. So much."
"It is a little scary, isn't it?"
She nodded, pressing up on her toes. A kiss would make it better. A hug. Mick's arms around her could keep any and all darkness at bay.
He brushed his lips over hers, softly at first, then deeper, as they wound themselves around each other and filled in the rest of the conversation with their bodies.
A very long hour later, they stumbled out of his bedroom for the second time that morning.
Mick was in front of her, so when he stopped suddenly, a few feet into the common room, she bounced off his back. Solid as a rock, the man was. Great for mind-blowing sex. Not so great for walking into. "Babe?" she asked as she peeked her head around him.
He was staring at the empty room.
"What is it?"
"Move in with me," he said. "If you quit your job. You should move in with me. We can bring over the kitchen appliances from the main house, because they're not historic, and while this place might have been kinda squashed for a full complement of staff, it would be a great house for two people."
"What about your friends when they get here?"
He glanced down at her with an amused look on his face. "Seriously? They're my brothers in all the ways that matter, but they don't pull rank over the woman I love. They can sleep in town. Or in the main house if they promise not to damage it. Maybe in a tent in the ballroom."
She turned pink.
"Or in Petite Ciotat. I think we're going to need to radically revise our own business plan, and I bet you can help with that. But sooner or later, we're going to need office space. Might as well be social and have it in town."
She straightened up and slid around him. That was as far as she got because he banded his arm around her waist, holding her close. She liked that. She loved him. It was actually a very simple decision to make.
"Yes. I'll move in with you. I'll even bring my bed."
NINETEEN
HE HEARD THE FRONT DOOR OPEN, AND PICTURED Cara moving through their space as he listened to her steps.
She'd moved into The Bunkhouse, as he'd officially re-named it with a sign he made out of driftwood, shortly after quitting her job with the Historical Society.
It allowed her to save the money that she'd been spending on rent. And instead of buying a new bed, they now slept together in hers-in what turned out to be a pretty big bedroom once they threw out the bunk beds that had taken up a lot of valuable floor real-estate.
It had just been a few weeks, but they already flowed around each other like they'd shared a space for ages.
"Mick?" she called out.
"In here," he shouted back.
"Want a beer?" It had been a long, hard day of work for both of them.
"Yeah, thanks!"
The fridge door opened, then closed. God, he loved the sound of cold beer bottles clinking together. Loved it even more when he knew he was a few minutes away from sharing the end-of-the-day drink with his love.
She appeared in the doorway of the bathroom, then started laughing. "You're in the tub."
"Yes." He grinned at her.
Her eyes hooded as she took in the bubbles and his legs sticking out the end. "You're naked."
"That's the general idea when one takes a bath." He swirled his hands through the steaming water. The bubbles shifted and she made a weak, gurgling sound that made him want to haul her into the tub with him.
"I was just going … " She trailed off.
"Cat got your tongue?"
She gave him a smirk and propped her hands on her hips. "This isn't fair."
He knew what she meant. She had to go into town. But he wanted to have a bubble bath with his woman. Town could wait. He gave her a look of pure innocence. "I spent all morning ripping shingles off the breakfast room. My muscles wanted a soak."
"With my cocoa butter bubble bath?"
"It's extra moisturizing."
"You know I can't resist … " She stopped her foot. "Mick! This is cruel. I have to go run some errands." She didn't move.
"You want to join me?"
She yipped, a fucking adorable sound that primed his pump in a real way. Her eyes were wide as he settled his hands on the sides of the tub and lifted himself up a few inches. Her gaze darted from his mid-section, just barely still covered in bubbles, to his arms, and then as her cheeks turned red, back to the bubbles.
He gave her another inch. Any second now, his cock would bob out of the water, and …
She pulled off her tank top. "If I don't get to the market before it closes, we're having leftovers for dinner."
He waited until she shoved her shorts to the floor, then snagged her wrist and tugged her in. Her little white panties would look delectable when wet. See through and utterly erotic.
"This bath isn't about soaking your muscles at all, is it?" she murmured as he settled her in front of him.
He scooped up some bubbles and used them to paint her pretty brown nipples, darker than the rest of her skin, but not by much. God, she was beautiful. "What?"
"You're incorrigible," she said with a laugh that turned to a moan as his ministrations got a little rougher.
"I'm in love," he retorted. "It's a new and amazing phenomenon. I'm still exploring all its many side benefits."
"Such as?"
"Orgasms are better than drugs, did you know that?"
CARA WOULD NEVER TIRE OF HEARING THAT CAREFREE, happy tone in her boyfriend's voice. So different than the carefully laid-back but secretly guarded man who'd stormed into her life not that long ago.
She grinned to herself. "Pretty sure you had orgasms before you met me."
"Pretty sure my hand doesn't make me high, kitten."
She rolled her eyes, but she knew what he meant. There was definitely something intoxicating about the magic they made together.
"Plus the after-effects last for days."
"How would you know? You've hardly gone days without another hit."
"I did that once. It was enough to know there's an awful, miserable crash on day four."
She giggled. "Poor man."
"I know. Awful."
"So if I said I'd received an invitation to a conference in Denver and might be gone for a week or two?"
"Really?" The joking tone in his voice dropped and he turned her around, sloshing water out of the tub. The lusty look on his face had been replaced by straight-up keen interest. "What kind of conference?"
"An association of living history and farm museums. Someone found my blog and shared the link."
"That's amazing."
"What about your orgasms?" she asked, teasingly.
"That's what Skype is for." He hauled her against him for a wet, splashy kiss. "Oh, kitten, I'm so proud of you."
She snorted. "I haven't done anything yet."
"But you will. We will. And that's amazing. It took me months to bounce back, barely-really, allow myself to be dragged back-from losing my career. You've hardly blinked."
"That's because I didn't lose anything at all," she said softly. She nuzzled her nose against his, then slid closer again for another kiss, this one sweeter, and longer than the last. And then it wasn't sweet at all, but slow and hot and dirty, and before she knew what was happening, he had her turned around, facing away from him.
He teased her through her lace panties, then slid them to the side and entered her roughly-just the way she wanted it. He always knew.
She gripped the side of the tub so hard her knuckles turned white, and still he moved her with him, filling her over and over again with his thickness.
"Proud of you," he muttered, his mouth plastered to the back of her neck, right beneath the curve of her hair that he'd shoved over her shoulder.
His hands found her breasts and cupped them firmly as he picked up the pace, his body pressing against hers in a dozen different places, but she needed-
"Touch yourself," he growled.
She bit her lip as she smiled. He always knew.