A tantalizing aroma emanated from the white bag. “What’s in the bag?”
“Chinese. I ordered lobster, chicken and beef so you’d have a choice.”
She gave him a little smile. “I love all that.”
He nodded and took the cartons out of the bag.
They ate with chopsticks and drank plum wine. Max relaxed, enjoying the food and conversation.
“I’ve never eaten with chopsticks.” She demonstrated by clicking hers together. “It’s not so hard.”
“You’re a natural. You have a knack for fitting into whatever situation you find yourself in.”
“How could you say that?” she asked. “I always feel like an odd sock at the pairs convention.”
He gazed at her thoughtfully. “At my parent’s home, you were uncomfortable, but you managed to fit in and still be yourself.”
“Uncomfortable doesn’t describe it. Your mom is adorable but she made me feel like I was naked.”
He flashed a wide grin in her direction. “She was counting her grandchildren. She likes you. Dad does, too.”
Max shivered. “Stop, you’re scaring me.”
He reached for her hand across the table, his gaze too penetrating for comfort. “You don’t think we have a future together?”
Max dimpled before looking down at her plate. “I’ll be happy if we make it through the evening.”
“We will,” he said, kissing her fingertips.
After they finished eating, he showed her the rest of the apartment. The same color scheme ran throughout.
The kitchen was beautifully appointed with dark woods and high-end appliances that didn’t appear to be well used. Jon’s bedroom was more of the dark browns with touches of blue and the guest room was lighter, mostly blue and cream.
Max gasped in surprise when they stepped out onto the wide brick balcony. Houston’s skyline stretched all around them. Bright city lights faded to a pale sea washing the many surrounding suburbs. Strings of colored lights filled the streets and freeways as traffic swarmed the main arteries. An ambulance siren whined far below.
She heard running water and noticed the bubbling hot tub enclosed under a gazebo. Her lips turned up in an ironic smile. “Is that where you seduce women?”
“It’s a place where I relax,” he said. “But there have been times when I wasn’t alone.”
She turned and walked to the brick ledge bordering the balcony and leaned over the edge. The sidewalk was far below. A dizzying sensation swirled through her head. She stepped back, smacking into Jon’s chest. He closed his arms around her, embracing her from behind. She leaned back against him, taking momentary refuge in his strength, which both sheltered and threatened her. “Did you bring me here because you want to make love to me?”
“I always want to make love to you.” His breath was warm against her cheek. He turned her to face him and said, more slowly, “I always want to make love to you.”
“Do you now?” She tilted her face to gaze up at him.
He nodded and kissed each of her lips individually, gently sucking them. His hands traveled down her back to caress her bottom.
She struggled to control the urges flooding her senses. She wanted to climb him. She wanted to bite him. Instead she concentrated on breathing in and out.
“Come inside,” he said, his voice husky with desire.
“I should really be going now.” That was definitely the right thing to say. Her mistake was in making eye contact. She was swept up in the torrent of raw desire she saw there. Her heart fluttered against her ribs like a moth held in cupped hands.
He held her tight against him, gazing into her eyes as though he might find the answer to some burning question. “Do you really want to go home now?”
The question hung between them.
“No,” she whispered.
“Come inside, then.”
She made it to the doorway and when she turned around, Jon had unbuttoned his shirt. “Oh!”
He shrugged it off and reached for her.
She lifted the Henley over her head and let it fall beside his shirt. She was glad she’d worn the pink lace bra Willa chose on their shopping spree.
He stood without moving, gazing at her with such longing that she reached out to stroke his chest, silently exploring his warm, muscled torso. He was well defined, the flesh taut under her fingertips. He took her hand and kissed it before drawing her to him. His skin felt warm against her breasts.
“Oh!” She jumped back.
“Easy,” he said. “Let’s just take it easy.” His softly spoken words relieved her fears.
This is Jon. He loves me. She leaned into his embrace, melted against his muscular ribs and was rewarded with his sharp intake of breath. He held her for a moment, nuzzling kisses along her cheek and neck.
His belt buckle felt cold against her ribs, but immediately, Jon stripped it from the belt loops and tossed to the floor. He reached for the zipper to her jeans and slid it open, touching the lacy panel on the panties. He smiled, placing his palm flat against her stomach.
A tingling sensation settled low in her belly. He slid her jeans down her hips and she stepped out of them.
Jon picked her up and carried her into his bedroom. “Tell me you want me,” he whispered. “Tell me...Please.”
“Yes,” she said softly. “Yes, I do.”
He set her on his bed and kicked a wooden object close to the bed.
A ribbon of fear snaked through her. “What’s that?” She pointed at the device. “Some kind of sex toy?”
“Bootjack.” He grinned, hooking the heel of his boot into the device and using it to pull it off. “It makes getting undressed a lot easier.”
“I’ll remember that.” She expelled a shaky breath,
His jeans and boxers were tossed beside the boots.
“Oh!” She stared at the substantial male member reaching toward her.
Jon swept her into his arms and back onto the bed. He relieved her of her lacy underwear and trailed kisses down her neck to her breasts. Heat spread from her taut nipples as his mouth suckled and teased, burned a path to her core.
Max gasped in pleasure and arched her back. She laced her fingers in his hair and bit her lower lip as Jon kissed down her ribs and stomach. It had been so long since she had been involved with a man. And that had ended disastrously.
He gazed at her as he stroked his fingertips over her skin. His face expressed more than mere words could convey. Something she saw in his eyes gave her the confidence to trust this man who seemed to care for her so deeply.
His fingers slipped between her legs, sending shock waves emanating from her moist core. He kneaded her, bringing swells of pleasure washing through her. She reached for him, pulling him close. He positioned himself over her and kissed her deeply. She wrapped her legs around him, offering herself up to him.
“I love you,” he said. He guided himself into her, filling her, sating her. Max let out a soft moan as their bodies connected and again with every stroke that reached deep inside. Their joining was thrilling, yet strangely calming. She felt that she was where she belonged, in the company of the man she belonged with. She loved the way he felt inside her. She loved the tender way he held her and she loved the expression on his face. Her little moans escaped with each stroke, but she couldn’t be silent. He kissed her over and over again as he made love to her.
She held him tightly, lifting her hips into his thrusts. When the first waves of her orgasm washed over her, she went rigid. “Oh, Jon,” she cried out, but he drove on, taking her to higher and higher peaks of ecstasy.
When they lay spent, in each other’s arms she was surprised at her comfort level with Jon. Lying naked with a man she’d just made love with wasn’t something Max could list as an area of proficiency.
They talked, Jon smiling and stroking her skin softly with his fingertips. He touched her face and kissed her lips. “I’m glad we took this step,” he said. “I feel closer to you now.”
Max suppressed a giggle. “This is about as close as we can get and still be two people.”
“I don’t feel like two people any more,” he said. “I feel like you’ve always been a part of me.”
“The only person who’s ever claimed to be a part of me is Willa.”
“You’re nothing like Willa.”
“Why do you keep saying that?” she asked.
“Willa is a high-maintenance woman,” he said. “You’re the real deal.”
“We’ve been best friends since kindergarten,” Max said. “Trust me when I say, she’s always been a thing of beauty.”
“Speaking of, where is your partner in crime?”
“Willa’s at my loft, picking out the paintings for the show.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Merrick was staring at her feet. They were small with high arches and tiny toes. As he watched her tiptoeing around among Max’s paintings he entertained several fantasies involving her bare feet.
Willa pointed to the huge canvas Max had painted on commission for Oleg Cantwell. “Of course, we’ll take this one.”
He tilted the canvas onto its back and proceeded to build a simple frame of ebony stained one-by-fours around it. When the frame was completed, Willa helped him stretch plastic over it, stapling it onto the back. The depth of the frame kept the plastic suspended over the paint.
She grinned at him in approval. “You do good work.”
He shot her an appraising glance. “Yes, I do.” He grinned at her. “But you haven’t experienced it first hand.”
She laughed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were flirting with me, Merrick.”
“And why wouldn’t I be flirting with you? You know you’re a beautiful woman.”
Willa met his direct gaze. “I thought I was just your kid sister’s best friend. You’ve always treated me like an annoyance.”
He lifted the framed and plastic-wrapped canvas back to its place against the wall close to the door. “You’re still a pest,” he said. “But you seem to be bothering me in a different way than you used to.”
“That’s a start,” she said.
“We have nothing in common.” When he turned around he found her standing way too close. He inhaled the fragrance of her perfume, something warm and spicy.
“I have no desire to be your clone, Merrick. We can be different and still appreciate each other.”
Her eyes were aquamarine, like the deep part of the ocean.
“If we start something,” he said, “it’s bound to end in disaster.”
Willa laughed at that. “Who says?”
“You’re not my type.”
She laughed again. “Who is your type? Some butch, jock woman?” She threw her head back and really laughed, exposing her creamy neck.
He liked the way she laughed. “Let’s say we start seeing each other. Max will be right in the middle of us. If things go wrong, she’ll be the one who gets hurt.”
Willa shrugged, glancing at him over her shoulder. “If things don’t work out, we’ll both be hurt.” She skewered him with a sharp glance. “But I know what you mean. I suppose we could see each other casually and not tell Max right away.”
“Not tell Max?”
“She has her hands full with the show and Jon.” Willa quirked an eyebrow at him. “I don’t think she’s going to notice what you’re doing unless you bring it to her attention.”
Merrick felt strange stirrings, like he was being drawn into a strawberry blonde vortex. “So you’re saying we should see each other casually, not tell Max and see where things go?”
“Yes,” she said. “We’ll take it one step at a time.”
He nodded his head, feeling like a king-sized bobble-head. “Okay. We’ll go slow.”
“Fine.” She turned and selected another painting. “This one’s completely dry.”
Merrick took it from her and set it on the floor. He pulled her toward him and stroked the side of her face. Her lips parted and he was lost. He pressed her close against him and invaded her mouth. Her slender arms encircled his neck and he lifted her against the wall. Without further preamble, his fingers were under her shirt, unhooking her bra. He heard a little moan of pleasure escape her throat as he kissed her neck and caressed her breasts.
She lifted his tee-shirt and pressed her breasts against his chest. A surge of lust roiled through him as her warm softness melted against his work-hardened muscles.
He pulled off his shirt and carried her to the futon. She was grinning. When he placed her on the surface, she unzipped her shorts.
“No, silly. It’s not a thing. It’s a thong.” She lifted her hips, her expression taunting him.
Merrick swallowed and drew a breath before reaching out a hand to stroke the silky skin. Clumsily, he slid the strip of fabric down her thighs, his gaze fastened on the triangle of red-gold she offered up to him. He tossed the thong on the floor and turned back to Willa. If she wanted a secret fling, he would give her one to remember. He gazed into her eyes and stroked his fingers over her flesh, starting at her shoulder, caressing her breast, sliding over her ribs down to her hipbone. Her stomach was so flat it was almost concave. He lowered his mouth and kissed her just below her navel.
She closed her eyes and curled toward him, twining her fingers in his hair.
He trailed kisses lower, and then concentrated on the soft strip of red-gold, not relenting until she cried out in pleasure. He gazed at her for a moment, transfixed by her taut nipples, dancing before him as she gasped for breath.
“Oh, Merrick! You are a very talented men.”
He settled between the silken thighs she opened to him. “Our fling has just begun.”
“Not quite yet.” She pointed to her shorts and he passed them to her. She groped in the pocket and produced a condom.
He snorted. “You always carry condoms?”
She giggled, flashing her dimples. “I knew you would succumb to me eventually.” She tore the packet open and fitted it over his erection. Her fingers stimulated him even more. “See, pre-lubricated and everything.”
“So you planned to seduce me?”
“Oh, yes, Merrick.” She reached for him, pulling him down to her. She stroked the side of his face and kissed his lips with exceptional tenderness. “I planned on seducing you since I hit puberty.”
He kissed her again. “Well, you hit the jackpot, kid. You got me.”
They made love, long and hard, as though they’d invented the act. She wrapped her thighs around him and lifted her hips to meet every stroke. He lost track of how many times she reached an orgasm. When he sensed she was tiring he joined her in climax. Afterward, they lay tangled in each other’s limbs, perspiring, exhausted and gasping for breath.
Merrick brushed her hair away from her damp forehead. She was flushed and grinning. It had pleased him to please her and to please himself. He caressed her skin, sweeping his palm down her firm body from shoulder to buttocks.
He figured he’d probably regret this, but not now. Now he just wanted to keep her close to him. He hoped Max wouldn’t come home too soon and he hoped she wouldn’t discover that he’d made love to her best female friend on her futon.
“Do you like dogs?” he asked.
He felt her laughter resonate against his ribs.
“You have some really romantic love talk, Merrick.”
~*~
Jon held her while she slept. She looked peaceful. The burden she’d been carrying since they’d met wasn’t weighing her down at the moment. He tried to memorize her face, the exact color of her hair, the clean, bath gel and shampoo fragrance surrounding her.
He flipped
the brown velour bedcover over her and she nestled closer in his arms.
She’s the one.
Millie was the woman he’d spend his life with. Donnell men married for life.
There were a few things remaining to be dealt with.
Like Max Foster. Jon still wasn’t comfortable with Millie’s relationship with Max. Why hadn’t she introduced him to Max yet? Millie always seemed evasive when he asked about the man. He didn’t want to think she was involved with Max, but there was definitely something wrong with the picture.
Max would have to show up at Cherise’s when the show was being set up. Millie had said that Willa was choosing the paintings for the show, but Max had to be there with her. Surely he wouldn’t leave it up to Willa to choose the paintings that could spell success or failure. Surely a man as talented as Max Foster wouldn’t rely on his agent to make those choices alone.
But if Jon had to wait until the night of the opening to meet Max, he could wait.
He turned out the lights with the remote and listened to the even respirations of the woman he loved, her breath warm against his neck. He covered the hand she rested on his chest with his own.