He kissed his way down to her belly. She worked the buttons free on his dress shirt at his wrists. He hooked his fingers in the nothing of a strap at her hip and pulled her panties down her legs as she pulled his shirt off over his head. Somehow, her panties got tangled in his shirt. He let go, and she tossed both things away. He stood at the end of the bed, shook out his hair, and reached for his belt. She came up and kneeled in front of him, her hands sliding up his belly to his chest. She nipped his chin with her teeth and kissed her way along his neck and down to his nipple. She licked him. He nearly lost his patience for her wondering mouth and hands. He barely kicked off his shoes and the slacks he’d dropped to his ankles. Eager to be skin to skin with her, he playfully pushed her back on the bed. She landed with a bounce and a saucy smile on her lips. She wore only her slinky sandals. He took each foot, pulled the shoes off, and dropped them to the floor. He worked off his socks and stood before her in nothing but his boxer briefs. Her eyes slid down his chest to his hard length. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband and slowly slid the boxers down his legs. The heat in her eyes scorched him. His balls ached, his cock throbbed, he needed to be inside her. Now.
He grabbed the condom out of the bedside drawer and sheathed himself. He didn’t lay down the length of her but reached for her, sweeping his wide hands down her thighs to her knees. He swept them back up, spreading her legs wide. Her eyes closed, and she gave herself over to him. Soft kisses along her thigh made her moan. He brushed his fingers over her soft folds up and down, then sank one finger deep into her slick core. She tilted her hips, begging for more, and he gave it to her, circling the wet nub with his thumb. He rested his chest on the bed between her legs and replaced his finger with his tongue, licking, tasting, tempting her to the edge.
“Blake.”
He kissed his way up her supple stomach, as anxious for her as she was for him, detoured at her breasts to lick, taste, suck her hard, and make her want him even more. He slid his chest against her breasts, took her mouth in a deep kiss, sliding his tongue over hers, and settled between her widespread thighs. Her fingers dug into his back, she rolled her hips up to meet his, and took him in, surrounding him with her warmth and love.
She matched his every thrust. Every sigh and moan he brought out from her, she evoked the same response in him. He made her burn and followed her into the fire.
Gillian woke to the sound of Blake in the shower. The sun had barely peeked over the mountaintops. Its first rays brightened the darkness to murky gray. She stared around the unfamiliar room at the lovely photographs on the walls. She could almost hear the trickle of the streams. Of course, the sound of the shower helped.
The smell of coffee dragged her out of the big bed. Reluctant to put her dress back on just yet, she snagged Blake’s white dress shirt off the floor and pulled it on over her head. She rolled up the sleeves and padded her way down the hall. She stopped outside one of the three spare rooms and stared at the Lego village under construction. Several unopened box sets sat on the floor. Someone had started a police cruiser. The tiny policeman stood, arm outstretched, with a gun in his hand pointed at a ninja holding a sword. She smiled and shook her head. A stuffed horse and puppy lay on the queen-size bed, along with Justin’s collection of rocks. He liked to find the shiny ones down by the river.
She followed her nose to the coffeepot in the kitchen. He’d brought her here, so she didn’t think twice about opening his cupboards to find a mug. By the coffeepot, of course. She found a plate in the cupboard next to the stove. A fork in the top drawer as well. She pulled the pie from the fridge and cut a big slice with a knife she took from the butcher block. She put the pie away and stood at the counter, staring into the great room, eating her pie and drinking her coffee. She spotted the bookshelf and the thick picture albums. She walked over, grabbed the first one, and paused to stare at the intricate Hot Wheels track on the four-foot-square coffee table.
“Not bad.”
She sidestepped several metal cars and took the book back to the kitchen counter with her. She flipped through the pages filled with pictures from Blake’s life, from the time he was a boy smaller than Justin to middle school. The pictures made her happy and sad all at the same time. What a wonderful family life he had growing up. He was never alone in any of the pictures. At least one, and usually all, of his brothers joined in his fun. Every picture, another smile.
Blake walked down the hall and stopped and stared at her in his kitchen. Bare feet, jeans unbuttoned, no shirt, washboard abs, solid pecs, biceps she wanted to lick, gorgeous face, and wet hair raked back. No man should look that good in the morning. Her man did.