Sheltered by the Millionaire(18)

       
           



       

"What do you think?" he asked from behind her, his footsteps thudding on the hardwood floor.

"It's..." She searched for a word to describe the surroundings that had  clearly been professionally decorated, just as his meals were  professionally prepared. The place was pristine. High-end gorgeous. Yet  missing all the touches that made a place a home. There was no clutter,  no scars on the furniture from the wear and tear of making memories.

And there were no pictures, just knickknacks on the shelves and gallery  artwork on the walls. But no photos. That tugged at her heart as sad,  so very sad. "You have a lovely home."

His hands fell to rest on her shoulders, his chin against her hair.  "It's a damn study in beige and I never realized that until I compared  it to your place tonight. Kinda like how your brownies taste better than  anything the best catering service could offer."

With every word, he made her heart ache more for him. She turned in his  embrace and slid her arms around his neck. She saw so much in his eyes.  So much caring and even a hope for things she wasn't sure she could  give him.

But she couldn't think about that now. She refused to ruin this night  by borrowing trouble from what might come. For now, she just wanted to  enjoy this new connection and all the heady promise of his touch.

She stroked the back of his neck along his close-cropped hairline. "Do  you really want to talk about paint swatches and recipes? Because I have  something a lot more interesting in mind." She gripped his shoulders,  her fingers flexing against hard male muscle. "The only question in my  mind is, do you prefer the leather sofa or your bedroom?"

* * *

Megan's proposition fueled Whit's already smoldering need for her.  Dinner had been a delicious torture as he waited to get her in his home,  in his bed.

Although right now, the sofa sounded fine to him.

He skimmed the back of his fingers along her face. "You're sure this is what you want?"

"Are you kidding?" She tugged his hair lightly. "I thought I'd made my wishes abundantly obvious."

"I just want you to be clear." He cupped her face, resting his forehead on hers. "This won't be a one-night thing."

She hesitated, but only for an instant before whispering, "I hear you."

"And you agree." He needed to hear her say it. He'd waited too long to have this woman in his arms to wreck it all now.

"How about this." She angled closer into his embrace, her cinnamon  scent filling his every breath. "It isn't a one-night stand, but we're  still going to take it one night at a time."

He'd wanted more, but she hadn't said no outright. He was a smart man.  He'd made progress, and he wasn't going to wreck his chance with this  amazing woman.

He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her soft body to his. "I can live with that for now."

"Good, very good." She swept her hands into his suit coat and shrugged  his shoulders until the jacket fell to the floor. "Because you've been  filling my dreams for a very long time."

"I would bet not as long as you've been in mine."

"Really?" Her green eyes went wide, her voice breathy. "Tell me more."

"Yes, ma'am. I'd heard about the hot new director at the shelter, then I  saw you and you were-are-so much more than hot." He took a step toward  the wide leather sofa, then another step. "But you shut me down cold  because of the property dispute."

"I noticed you all right." She tugged at his tie, loosening it and  pulling it free from his collar. "But yes, you made my life more than a  little difficult by putting up roadblocks for the original shelter  plans. And you're right that I don't approve of your company's history  of buying up wetlands. But, to be honest, there's more. I was still  wrapped up in getting my feet on the ground with Evie and being a mom."

"It didn't have to do with trusting men because of Evie's father?" he couldn't resist asking.

"This conversation is getting too serious." She backed toward the sofa,  their feet synching up with each step. "Can we return to the part where  you tell me I'm beautiful and I tell you I admire your abs?"                       
       
           



       

"You like my abs, do you?"

Her fingers stroked down again until she cupped his butt. "I like a lot about you, Whit Daltry."

"Nice to know." He leaned down to kiss her just as she arched up to meet him.

The taste of their after-dinner coffee mingled with the flavor of pure  Megan. A taste he was coming to know well and crave more with each  sampling.

Every time he held her, it was only more intense. He leaned forward at  the same time she fell back. They landed on the leather sofa in a tangle  of arms and legs and need. The sweet give of her curves under him sent  desire throbbing through him, making him ache to be inside her. The silk  of her dress as she writhed against him only tormented him with the  notion of how much better her skin would feel. He wanted her now on the  sofa and again upstairs. But he also wanted to make this moment perfect  for her. No rushing.

Although that was getting tougher to manage with her tugging his shirt  from his pants and working his belt buckle open. He toyed with the hem  of her dress, his knuckles brushing the inside of her knee and drawing a  husky moan from her lips.

He'd been fantasizing all evening long about untying her wraparound  dress, and he intended to fulfill that fantasy. Soon. For now, he lost  himself in the pleasure of kissing her, stroking along her creamy thigh.  Taking his time. Taking them both higher and higher still until the  need was a painful razor's edge.

Drawing in a ragged breath to bolster himself, he lifted off her. The  image of her kissed plump lips, her flame-red hair splayed across the  buff-colored sofa, was pinup magnificence.

She looked up at him with a question in her sparkling green eyes. She extended a hand. "Whit? Where are you going?"

"To carry you to my bedroom." He scooped her into his arms and against his chest.

Her gasp of surprise made him smile.

She got past her surprise quickly, though, and toyed with the top  button of his shirt. "Luckily for both of us, that's exactly where I  want to be."

He headed back into the foyer and past the stairs with long-legged  strides that couldn't eat up the distance to the master suite fast  enough.

Finally, finally, he crossed the threshold into his room. He'd never  thought of it as more than a place to sleep. Houses-homes-weren't things  to get attached to.

Just short of the four-poster bed, he set her on her feet. As she slid  down his body, she thumbed free two more buttons on his starched cotton  shirt.

She angled back as if to sit on the edge of the bed and he stopped her with a hand to the waist.

"Wait," he said, "we'll get there soon enough."

He dropped to his knees, his hands grazing over her breasts on his way  to hug her hips. Her husky sigh urged him on as he eyed the tie of her  dress, the loops right there for the taking, releasing. He took one end  of the sash between his teeth. He looked up at her, holding her gaze  with his. Her hands fell to his shoulders, but not to push him away. In  fact, she swayed a bit, her fingers digging into his back, as if she was  bracing herself to keep her balance. She dampened her lips with her  tongue.

He tugged, slowly, imprinting the moment on his mind. Her dress parted  and with a shrug of her shoulders she sent it slithering off into a pool  at her feet. His breath lodged in his chest, then he exhaled in a long,  slow sigh of appreciation.

The sweet swell of her breasts in red lace, the curve of her hips in  crimson satin panties had him throbbing harder with the urge to be  inside her. Now. And thanks to her bikini undies, he found the answer to  his question about whether she was hiding more tattooed paw prints. She  had a tiny trail along her hip bone. He took the edge of her panties in  his teeth and let it lightly snap back into place.

"Megan, you are...beautiful beyond words. More than I even imagined,  and what I imagined was already mighty damn awesome." His hands trembled  as he reached to stroke her arms. Sure, he'd touched before but the  feel of naked flesh was so much more intimate now that her curves were  bared.

A flush swept over her lightly freckled skin. "And you, Whit, are seriously overdressed for the occasion."

She tugged him back up to stand again and unbuttoned his shirt the rest  of the way, one deliberate move at a time, kissing each inch of exposed  skin. Her licks and nibbles had him bracing a hand against one of the  bed posts to keep from stumbling to his knees again. He kicked off his  shoes while she made fast work of unzipping his pants and shoving them  down and off. Her eyes widened with appreciation and she stroked the  length of him. He gave up and let gravity take them both onto the  mattress.