"Don't what?" she asked, her brow wrinkling.
His eyes were fixating on the up and down movement of her breasts hidden underneath the thin material. It clung to every curve, bunching up around her waist, barely covering her hips and leading him downwards to her shapely slightly tanned legs.
Her legs shifted under his gaze. "You don't want me to get changed," she said throatily.
"Oh no." He downed his wine in one gulp, setting the glass down and hooking his other hand around her hip and pulling her closer. He couldn't stop the smile on his lips.
She didn't object. She didn't object at all. Just looked up at him through heavy eyes and tilted her head to one side. "I thought you preferred me in dresses?" There was a hint of teasing in her voice.
It was already a warm evening. But the temperature in here was sky high.
"Oh no," he said slowly, "I definitely prefer you in shorts." He pulled her up against him. "Definitely in shorts." His finger stroked down the side of her face, catching the hair on her shoulder and pulling it back to reveal the delicate skin around her neck.
She sucked in a breath as he lowered his head and whispered in her ear. "Maybe even in something less."
She shifted her position, leaning back against the table covered in cakes. "Adam Brady, I spent all afternoon baking for you. Aren't you even going to try some out?"
He loved it. The tone of her voice. The teasing. It was as if telling him about her sister and why she spent so much time at the hospital had just lifted a weight off her shoulders. It had brought them closer together. She was more relaxed around him. And he liked it. A lot.
There was no way he was letting her out of his hands. So he moved forwards, practically pinning her to the table, his full body weight against hers. "Where do you suggest we start?" he said hoarsely.
She leaned to one side, her breasts brushing against his chest. This woman was going to drive him crazy. One of his hands lowered, brushing against the smooth skin of her thigh and he felt her muscles tighten against him.
"Or how about we make this more interesting?" he said, reaching around her and pushing the cakes to one side. It only took a second to hitch her further up on the table. She started to laugh. A sultry laugh, from deep within her as her legs parted to allow him to get closer.
Before she could lean back he grabbed the hem of her loose t-shirt and pulled it over her head. "I've just decided how I want to eat my cake," he said.
She leaned back on her elbows, her pale blue eyes fixed on his. "I think this works both ways."
He didn't need to be told twice. The shirt was yanked over his head in an instant. He picked up the nearest piece of chocolate and cream gateau, balancing it beneath the curve of her breasts. His hands smeared the cream underneath the wire on her bra and across her quivering belly.
He lowered his head as she watched. He moved his hands to either side of her, leaning on the table, his head and shoulders just hovering above her. She flinched and pulled her stomach tighter as his warm breath danced over her skin.
"I like to take my time over dessert," he said huskily.
Her head fell backwards as her body arched towards his. "Take as much time as you like," she groaned.
It was all the response he needed. His tongue moved across her abdomen, devouring her and the cake, licking the cream and chocolate, stopping every few seconds to taunt her, tease her just a little more. Her hands grabbed at his head, running her fingers through his short hair, keeping his head firmly in place as he neared her breasts.
He slid one hand underneath her, unclipping the bra with relative ease and pushing it upwards. She arched towards him again, a gleam in her eyes, as he lifted one knee on to the table, then the other.
It groaned a little under their combined weight as plates started crashing all around them. His tongue flicked out. "Lisa, I promise you, that at some point I'll give your desserts the attention they deserve."
Desire flickered from her eyes as her hands moved from his head and ran down his spine, anchoring on his behind and pulling him against her.
"The desserts can wait," she growled. "I can't."
Chapter Nine
‡
Her eyelids flickered open. She was comfortable. She was relaxed. And for the first time, in a long time, she felt sated.
A cool breeze fluttered over her warm skin. She shifted in her bed. That wasn't quite right.
Her head filled with memories of last night. She slid her hand under the covers and frowned as it brushed against the skin on her thigh. Tacky. What was that?
She lifted up her white duvet and glanced underneath. Oh no. Color flooded her cheeks. There were chocolate smears around her breasts and that tacky feeling on the edge of her thigh was definitely huckleberry jam.
But most importantly there was no one lying next to her in bed.
She sat bolt upright. There was no sign of Adam at all. Her hand ran over the mattress. No warm bump. No evidence he'd been there at all.
The only scattered clothes across the bedroom floor were her own – and she definitely hadn't opened the bedroom window. She clutched the covers to her chest. "Adam?"
Silence. Her voice echoed around the apartment.
She slid her legs out of the bed, her toes hitting the cool wooden floor. She ignored the discarded clothes and padded through to the living room with her duvet wrapped around her. It would have to go straight in the wash. Heaven knows how many desserts were smeared across it.
The kitchen was a mess. The remnants of their love-making session would take hours to clean. Her stomach twisted. For some tiny reason she'd hoped Adam might be here. That by some miracle he'd be sitting on her sofa, sipping coffee.
A blinking red light caught the corner of her eye. Her answering machine. She hurried towards it, pressing the button quickly.
The machine beeped. "Hi … Lisa. It's me, Melody."
She was going to be sick. She was going to be sick right now. Every hair was standing up on end on her body. She was angry at herself. For a second she'd hoped it was a message from Adam. But had she even given him her phone number? Instead, it was the last person she wanted to hear from.
Her sister's hesitant voice continued. "I have news … I wanted to let you know that … you're going to be an auntie."
There was a wobble. Her legs definitely wobbled. She let herself sag down on the floor.
She could hear her sister suck in a breath, almost as if she were gathering her nerve, filling herself with determination. "Joe and I, we're really happy. We've wanted this for the last year." She paused for a second. "And there's something else. I've had my scan already," her voice shook, "I'm having a girl." There was silence for a second as Lisa heard her suck in a deep breath to continue, "I've called mom and dad. They're happy too. At least I think they want to be. This will be their first grandchild, Lisa. They should be able to enjoy it. But this thing between you and me is still hanging between us. Their loyalties are divided. I hate this, Lisa. I hate it. I want my sister back. I want an auntie for my child. Call me. Please."
The machine buzzed again. Message left at 7.36am. Her head shot around to the clock. It was after nine. Had Adam heard the message? Had he heard the message before he left? Maybe the phone had woken him? It certainly hadn't woken her.
She buried her head in her hands and breathed.
It was inevitable. She should have expected this. Melody had never made any secret of the fact she wanted to be a mother. She'd just never expected her sister to become a mother with her ex-fiancé. Then again, it seemed as though she wasn't too good at judging men.
She looked up and pushed her mussed-up hair out of her face. She stood up and picked up the duvet, dropping it in the laundry basket and moving across to her kitchen floor. So much for her desserts. Looked like Adam wouldn't be back to give them the attention they deserved.
The red gerberas and purple larkspurs were still on the table, pushed to one side. It was almost as if they were mocking her.
Adam was gone. She'd no idea when he'd left. But he hadn't left a message and it didn't look like there was any note. Most importantly he hadn't bothered to wake her and tell her he was going. He'd just disappeared.
Pity. She'd didn't think he was the type. She was embarrassed by how much she actually liked him. And she was annoyed with herself over how hurt she felt.
She walked back through to the bedroom and grabbed a t-shirt and yoga pants, pulling them on. The red light was still flickering so she bent forward and pressed delete. Melody could wait. She put her hand on her hip and sighed.