Megan had just smiled in the face of his dark scowls as she’d prepared the pasta, using olive oil, leftover white wine from the refrigerator, and various spices to make a subtle sauce. She’d also tried not to notice how attractive he looked as he leaned against the kitchen counter wearing nothing but his partially buttoned jeans. She was surprised at how difficult it was to train her thoughts on something else now that she had come to know firsthand what a skillful and creative lover he was.
After all of his complaining, Megan had to laugh as she watched him eat their simple supper of pasta and ice water like he hadn’t tasted food in days. She ate hungrily herself, wondering if their afternoon of lovemaking had somehow piqued her sense of taste to new levels of sensitivity.
“I put up with it when you insisted on cooking for me, but you’re absolutely not going to clean up, honey,” Christian said after they had finished and carried their plates to the kitchen. Megan turned off the faucet when she heard his resolute tone.
“Who will clean it up, then?” she asked as she watched him pull a bottle of wine from the built in wine rack and uncork it.
“The maid.”
“You have a maid?” she asked in surprise.
“I have a cleaning service that comes in three times a week. They’re due to come in tomorrow.”
“Oh, okay, then. So the dishes will get washed tomorrow, I guess. Thank you,” she said softly when he handed her a glass of red wine.
“They won’t get washed tomorrow, either,” Christian said.
“Why not? I thought you said—”
“I did. But if you think that I’m letting a maid come up here while I’m still busy making love to you, you’re crazy,” Christian growled next to her ear before he kissed it. He leaned back, took a sip of wine, and examined her stunned expression.
“Christian, I have to teach tomorrow,” Megan murmured, exasperated for having momentarily considered doing just what he’d suggested.
“But you were tempted. I could tell,” he insisted with a lecherous rise of his eyebrows and a slow grin.
Megan narrowed her eyelids. “Cocky,” she admonished.
He grabbed her hand and began to lead her onto the terrace. “Honest is a much nicer way to put it.” He used both of their hands to flip out the kitchen and dining room lights on their way out the doors.
“Oh, it’s gorgeous out,” she said appreciatively when they’d set down their wine glasses and Christian plopped down heavily in a padded deck lounger. When she started to sit in the chair next to him, he pulled her down on him so that she straddled his thighs. His large hands immediately sought beneath his shirt and began to caress the back of her thighs and her bare bottom. Megan glanced around uneasily. There were several high-rise buildings nearby, all of them a moderate distance away.
“Someone might be able to see,” she murmured anxiously despite her growing arousal.
“I turned out the lights. It’s dark. No one will see,” he assured her. Megan didn’t argue when he reached up and slowly began to unbutton his blue shirt. When he deliberately spread open the cloth to expose her breasts to his gaze, Megan felt the warm summer breeze gently tickle her nipples. He studied her in silence. She gritted her teeth, longing for him to touch her, but he didn’t. His gaze traveled up to meet hers.
“A few nights ago, when I first touched inside of you, you seemed upset,” he said.
“I wasn’t upset, Christian. It just felt... I don’t know. It’s a little hard to explain.”
“You didn’t remember anything, did you?”
She shook her head resolutely when she saw the anguish on his face. “No. It’s just that I’ve always been sort of…avoidant of that part of my body.” She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t have any memories of Henry Nightingale. I honestly don’t believe I ever will. But I think I might remember something about being examined at the hospital, afterwards. Just some disjointed images…that sensation…the tension in the air. Feeling afraid. I have to force myself to go for my yearly gynecological exam,” she said with an embarrassed laugh.
His expression went rigid as he watched her.
“It’s not a big deal. No woman loves getting a pap smear,” she joked to lighten the mood.
He swallowed heavily. “Does it bother you when I’m…”
Megan rolled her eyes. “You should been able to guess by now that bothered doesn’t accurately describe what I’m experiencing when you’re inside of me.”
“Because there are so many ways to make love, Megan,” he continued quietly. “We don’t have to—”
“I want to make love that way,” Megan insisted hotly. She looked a little abashed when she heard the tone of her own voice. She added contritely, “Not that I don’t like all the other ways too.”
His lips twitched with humor. “I can’t say that I’m completely convinced, but I’m glad to hear you say so.” He paused for a moment and she sensed his hesitation. “Last night, when I was fully inside of you for the first time…well, do you remember what I told you about the T-shirt, about a person’s personal gateway to heaven?”
“Yes.”