She smiled without opening her eyes. “You have candles? I assume you weren’t planning for a power outage.”
“I was planning—hoping—for this.” His footsteps came closer, closer still until his breath caressed her face. He took her hand. “You can open them.”
The world, blurry at first, was ablaze.
One blink. Two.
Then her eyes adjusted, revealing a fairyscape of winking, twinkling candles scattered all around the room, seeming to occupy every available surface.
Pink and white rose petals decorated the floor, around the bed. Decadent chocolates swirled in elaborate designs on a silver plate, and imported sparking water glimmered in the light.
She was touched that he’d planned this—and curious. “You were mighty certain we would be back here.”
“I wanted to be prepared, just in case, since options for pampering you have been limited.” He held her face in both palms. “And trust me, lady, I very much want to shower you in meals and travel and gifts and a million other ideas, if you would just let me.”
The thought of that made her head swirl with the complications and problems that would arise from juggling that lifestyle with her children. Sure, people with kids lived fast-track lives, but she didn’t. And Colby also thrived on routine. Each thought made her more tense. She had to stop thinking about tomorrow if she expected to enjoy tonight.
She cupped his mouth. “Sweet, but not necessary. I’m not here because of what you can buy me. It’s not about money.” She waved a hand around the room. “All of this is thoughtful. That’s what makes it special. That’s what makes you special.”
“I take that to mean you’ll get naked with me.” A crooked smile spread across his face. He breathed the words onto her skin, plucking the already-loose dress.
How ironic that he was a cyberguru and after her confidential chat with Margie, the internet had proven to be a helpful source of info on how to relax.
And the best part? The more she slept with Max, the more her body would accommodate him, the more pleasure she would find—and being with him had already been mighty damn satisfying.
Now that she’d done her research, she felt freer, ready.
“I consider it a race to see who can get their clothes off first.” She couldn’t work fast enough to liberate herself from her sundress, nerves pushing her onward. Delighted by his gesture. By the candles. She’d raced into intimacy headlong in a selfish need to indulge herself after the year of hardship and grief. But now her focus was on Max and the step they were going to take...together. Natalie unzipped her dress as he flung his T-shirt to the far corner of the room, revealing that muscled chest. Damn. Desire pulsed in this momentary pause of appreciation.
“I’m a competitive man. Very competitive.” A deep, throaty laugh. With ease, he kicked aside his shorts and boxers, the discarded clothes joining his exiled T-shirt.
She pulled in a breath scented with his aftershave and vanilla candles, savory and sweet. Her heart raced at the sight of him. Endlessly masculine. Impressively confident.
He made her feel more sure of herself, too. His ease with himself. His generous touch. All the ways he was comfortable in his own skin helped her to relax. She knew from her research that was the key to being with him. To resolving the sensual issue that had worried her the first time.
“Lucky me.” She arched against him, wiggling out of the gold-toned panties until the two of them were flesh to flesh. Her breasts took in the sweet, gentle abrasion of his chest hair, which teased her nipples to tight, sensitive peaks.
His calloused hands slid down her back to her bottom and lifted her against him.
She viewed that as the very best kind of invitation to wrap her legs around his waist.
“Sweet,” he growled against her mouth.
She melted against him, breathing into the moment, determined to wrest every amount of pleasure from this night. And yes, giving pleasure had its own rewards, better than any chocolate treat.
Natalie dug her heels into his back as he walked them toward the bed, her loose hair swaying along her spine.
“Hurry,” she urged against his mouth. “We can have slow with flowers and chocolates, too.”
She reached down to snag a condom off the bedside table.
He growled in approval and backed her against the door, freeing one of his hands as she clamped tighter with her legs. She couldn’t resist watching as he rolled the sheath down the turgid length. A shiver of anticipation—and yes, even a hint of apprehension—rippled through her. She breathed, willing the tensed muscles to ease. Max pressed his hand to the door, his legs braced, his erection nudging against the moist core of her.
Breathing, sighing, her head back against the panel, she welcomed him into her body, gravity gently working its magic as he lowered her, filling her. She hooked her ankles and pressed him the rest of the way home. And oh, yes, this was good, so much better than good. Each slickened thrust sent shimmers of sensation through her starved senses.
Tremors began quaking soon, all too soon. Even knowing she would have him again tonight, she wanted to draw out this wild moment as long as possible. It seemed that the past couple of days had been a protracted foreplay leading to this. He eased away and stared deeply into her eyes with an intensity that built her need to a taut point that just...couldn’t...be...denied.
Finally—thank goodness, finally—he kissed her, fully, thoroughly, and thrust into her with a thick abandon that sent her over the edge without warning.