wasn’t some kid she had picked up in a bar.
Still, she watched the handsome young stranger put on socks and shoes while he waited for her answer. He glanced around the room in search of the missing shirt. Her toes felt a wad at the end of the bed. She reached beneath the covers, unearthing a pale blue, wrinkled oxford shirt. She held it up to him and instantly remembered having worn the shirt. The memory of him taking it off her made her cheeks flush.
“Is it salvageable?” he asked, stretching to take it from her while keeping a safe distance.
He was being a gentleman, pretending he hadn’t had access to every inch of her body only hours ago. The thought should have repulsed or terrified her. It didn’t. Instead, she continued to watch him, enjoying his nervous but fluid motions, yet at the same time annoyed with herself. She should not be noticing that the color in his shirt brought out the blue flecks in his otherwise green eyes. How had she been so certain he wouldn’t hurt her? One of these days a stranger’s eyes might not be a safe way to judge his character.
“So what about lunch?” he asked, looking as though he was steeling himself for further rejection. He had trouble buttoning the shirt, had it almost finished when he realized he was off a button and started all over again.
“I don’t even remember your name,” Tess finally admitted.
“It’s Will. William Finley.” There was a glance and a hesitant smile. “I’m twenty-six, never been married. I’m a lawyer. Just moved to Boston, but I’m visiting a friend here in Newburgh Heights. His name’s Bennet Cartland. His father has a law practice here. Pretty high-profile one, actually. You can check it out if you want.” He hesitated. “Probably more than you wanted to know, right?” When she rewarded him with a smile, he continued. “What else? I have no diseases, except I did have the mumps when I was, like, eleven, but then so did my buddy, Billy Watts, and he has three kids. Oh, but don’t worry, I used protection last night.”
“Um…there’s a damp spot,” she said quietly.
When he met her eyes, the embarrassment seemed to be replaced by a flicker of desire that his memory must have triggered.
“I had only two condoms, but the third time I…well, I pulled out before, well, you know.”
Suddenly she remembered the intensity, could feel it fill her body. The unfamiliar rush surprised her, frightened her. She couldn’t allow herself to slip back into her old habits. She wouldn’t. Not now when she had worked so hard.
“I think maybe you better leave, Will.”
He opened his mouth to say something, maybe to try to change her mind. He hesitated, staring at his feet. She wondered if he wanted to touch her. Did he have the urge to kiss her goodbye or to convince her to let him stay? Maybe she even wanted him to. Instead, Will Finley found his jacket on the doorknob and left.
She lay back into the pillows, now noticing remnants of his aftershave, a subtle scent, not like Daniel’s overpowering musk. Dear God, twenty-six fucking years old! Almost ten years her ju-nior. How could she be such an idiot? Yet, this time when she closed her eyes, their night together started coming back to her in clear, crisp sights and sounds and sensations. She could feel his body rubbing against hers, his tongue and hands playing her like some delicate instrument, knowing just where and when to touch her and how to send her to places she hadn’t been in a long time.
The memories that embarrassed her more were those of her own urgency, her own hunger, her own fingers and mouth devouring him. They had taken turns ravishing each other as if they had been starving. The passion, the urgency, the desires were nothing new. She had experienced plenty in her sordid past. What was new, what was different had been Will’s gentle caresses, what seemed to be a genuine concern that she feel the same pleasure, the same sensations he was experiencing. What was new and different was that she and Will Finley hadn’t just had sex last night, but that Will Finley had actually made love to her. Perhaps she should have taken some comfort in that realization. Instead, it stirred up an unsettling restlessness within her.
Tess rolled onto her side, twisting her pillow and hugging it to her. She couldn’t let someone like Will Finley sidetrack her. Not now. Not when she had worked so hard for what she had. She needed to remain focused. She needed to think of Daniel. Despite their differences, Daniel gave her credibility in a community where credibility was everything. He was good for her in all the ways that were necessary for her to become a respected, successful businesswoman. So why did she feel as though she had let something valuable slip from her fingers when she asked Will Finley to leave?
CHAPTER 18
Will slammed the front door, rattling its beveled glass. For a brief moment, his anger gave way to concern while he checked to make sure he hadn’t cracked or broken anything. The door looked old but solid. The glass looked custom-made, maybe antique. Not that he would know such things. But he had noticed that Tess McGowan had a taste for antiques. Her small cottage was decorated with an eclectic mix, creating a soothing, comfortable environment. He had felt incredibly warm and cozy waking up and being surrounded by lavender sheets and wallpaper with tiny little violets.
Last night when she invited him in, he had initially been surprised. He would never have guessed that the wild, passionate woman who had shamelessly hustled him at pool while throwing back tequila shooters would surround herself with old lace, hand-carved mahogany and what looked like original watercolors. But after only one night, he knew Tess McGowan’s home was a reflection of a woman who was as passionate and independent as she was sensitive and vulnerable.
It was that unexpected vulnerability that had made it difficult to leave. It had surprised him last night—or was it already early this morning—when he held her in his arms. She had curled into his body as though finding some long-sought-after shelter.
He scraped a sleeve over his face in an attempt to wake up to reality. Christ! Where did he come up with this crap? Vulnerability and finding shelter. He sounded like something out of a fucking chick flick.
He got into his car and immediately glanced up at what he knew to be the bedroom window. Hell, maybe he expected her to be standing there, watching him. But it was easy to see no one was standing behind the sheer curtain.
He felt angry again, used. It was ridiculous. He was the one who had picked her up. His friends had dared him, goaded him into one last fling before his impending wedding. A wedding that at one time seemed far into the future was now suddenly less than a month away.
At first he did it simply to shock his friends. They’d never expect good ole’ Will, the eternal choirboy, to flirt with any woman, let alone a woman like Tess. Geez, maybe he needed some new friends, ones whose maturity levels weren’t stuck back in college. But he couldn’t blame them for his stupidity last night, nor for his going as far as he had. Nor could he say he’d had too much to drink, because unlike Tess, he had known exactly what he was doing from start to finish.
He had never met anyone like Tess McGowan. Even before she shed her conservative black shawl and started shooting pool with the bar’s owner, Will thought she was the sexiest woman he had seen. It wasn’t like she was a knockout or centerfold-sexy. She was definitely attractive, with thick, wavy hair she wore loose and down to her shoulders. And she had a good body, not like some bulimic model, but with plenty of curves and amazing shapely legs. God, he got hot just thinking about her. Just thinking about running his hands over the curve of her hips and the swell of her breasts.
Back at Louie’s, long before he had up-close-and-personal access, it wasn’t those curves so much as it was the way she moved—it was the way she carried herself that had gotten his attention. His and everyone else’s. And it was like she enjoyed the attention, enjoyed putting on a show, hiking her dress’s skirt up to her thighs to take a shot while straddling the corner of the table. Every time she leaned over her pool cue, the strap of her dress slipped off her shoulder, the silky fabric allowing just a peek at her voluptuous breasts captured behind black lace.
Will shook his head and jammed the key into the ignition. It had been a hell of a night, one of the most passionate, erotic, exciting nights of his life. Instead of being angry, he should be patting himself on the back that Tess McGowan was letting him off with no strings attached. He was a lucky bastard. Hell, he hadn’t been with another woman since he and Melissa had started seeing each other. And four years of sex with Melissa couldn’t come close to one night with Tess.
