slick and slippery until she slid off the edge a second time. How could he bear it? she wondered. His flesh was damp as hers, his heart leaping as high and fast, his body as tensed and ready.
Once again she arched against him, once again she wrapped her legs tight around his waist. And their eyes met in the shifting light.
'Now.' He murmured it as he slipped into her, silky and smooth, as if they'd mated a thousand times before.
Her breath trembled in, then out. His hands covered hers, and she laced her fingers with his. They watched each other as they began to move.
Easy and lovely, like a dance remembered. Rising and falling, pleasure met with pleasure. Then, as if the music demanded it, a subtle quickening of pace. His eyes were darker now, that dreamy blue going opaque as he lost himself. When she tightened around him, when her eyelids fluttered closed and the moan rippled her throat, he held on, held on. Then he buried his face in her hair and let himself go.
She was going to need a minute. Perhaps an hour. A day or two might be best. After that, she imagined she could move again, or at the very least think about moving. But for now it seemed like the finest of ideas to just stay as she was, sprawled over Shawn's bed with him plastering her into the mattress.
Her body was absolutely golden. She imagined that if she had the energy to open her eyes and look, she'd see it glow in the dark.
It was just as she'd said before. Once the man stopped thinking, he did a fine job of things.
'You aren't cold, are you?' His voice was muffled and sleepy.
'I doubt I'd be cold if we were lying naked on an ice floe heading for Greenland.'
'Good.' He shifted, settled in. 'Let's just be here for a little while yet.'
'Just don't fall asleep on top of me.'
He made some sound, and nuzzled. 'I like the way your hair smells.'
'Sawdust?'
'There's some of that. It's nice enough. And there's a hint of lemon with it.'
'It's probably the shampoo I stole from Patty.' Her body was waking up again, and she began to take more notice to the way he fit against her, the way their legs were tangled. Even as interest began to stir, she also noticed the sheer weight of him.
'You're heavier than you look.'
'Sorry.' He tucked an arm under her and rolled. 'Better?'
'It wasn't so bad before.' But, now that he mentioned it, it was better to be able to cross her arms over his chest and look down at his face. It was so damn pretty, that face, that she didn't even mind, for now, the smug way his lips were curved. 'I have to say, Shawn, you're better at the entire business than I figured on.'
He opened his eyes. The blue of them was dreamy again. 'Well, I'll admit to having some practice over the years.'
'I won't complain about that, but there's a problem just the same.'
'Is there?' He picked up a lock of her hair, twined the curl of it around his finger. 'And what would it be?'
'Well, my idea, originally, was that we'd have sex.'
'I recall you mentioning it.' He let the curl unwind, then fall, then chose another. 'And I have to admit, a fine idea it was.'
'That was the first part. I mentioned as well that I was looking to do that in order to get this urge I had for you out of my system.'
'I recall that as well. An itch, you said.' He ran his nails lightly down her back. 'I've done my best to scratch it for you.'
'You did, and I'd never deny it. But that's the problem part.' Watching him, she trailed a finger along his collarbone, up the side of his neck. And watched his lashes flutter until his eyes were a slit of blue behind them.
'Well what's your problem, then, O'Toole?'
'You see, it hasn't appeared to work, as yet. It seems I've still got this itch. So we'll just have to have sex again.'
'If we must, we must.' He sat up, taking her with him. 'Let's have a shower and a meal first, then we'll see what can be done.'
Chuckling, she laid her hands on his cheeks. 'We're still friends, too, aren't we?'
'We're still friends.' He cuddled her closer, and intended for the kiss to be light and affectionate. But he sank into her.
Her mind was going fuzzy when he turned to lay her back on the bed. Her arms were reaching up for him as she said, 'What about the shower and the meal?'
'Later.'
It was later, and a great deal later, and they both ate like starving wolves. Here it was easy to fall back into friendship, to be two people who'd shared meals hundreds of times before.
Did you know Betsy Clooney's whole brood's down with the chicken pox?
Have you noticed Jack Brennan's eyeing Theresa Fitzgerald now that she and Colin Riley have broken things off?
Between bites she told him of her sister Patty's latest flood of tears over whether to have pink or yellow roses in her bridal bouquet. And they lifted a glass to toast the closure of the deal with Magee.
'Are you thinking he'll send a man out to get the lay of the land and design the theater?' Brenna got up to let Bub in when he came scratching at the door.
'If that's his plan, it hasn't come down to me as yet.'
He watched the cat slink over to Brenna to rub against her leg.
'Sure, it's the only way it can be done correctly.' She considered another serving, then decided if she gave in to greed on that, she'd suffer. With a little regret, she pushed her plate away. 'He can't be sitting up in his lofty office in New York City and design what should be here in Ardmore.'
'And how do you know he has a lofty office?'
'The rich are fond of lofty.' Grinning, she kicked back in her chair. 'Ask Darcy if lofty isn't an aim when she finds the rich man she's hunting for. In any case, they have to see what we are and what we have before they set in their minds what we'll be.'
'I'll agree with that.' He rose to clear the table. 'I liked your design. Maybe you could draw it up a little more formally. We could give Aidan a look at it. If he likes it as I do, there's nothing stopping us from passing it onto the Magee for his consideration.' For a moment she simply sat. 'You'd do that?' He glanced over his shoulder as he ran hot water and soap into the sink. 'Why wouldn't I?'
'It would mean a great deal. Even if Magee laughs it off and tosses it aside, it would matter to me. I'm not an architect or engineer or anything that- lofty,' she decided as she got to her feet. 'But I've always had a yen to have a hand in the designing and the building of something, from the ground up.'
'You get a picture in your head,' he said. 'An empty field or lot and what you'd put on it right down to the fancy work.'
'That's right, yes. How did you know?'
'It's not so different from building a song.' Thinking of it, she frowned at his back. Never once had she considered that they had anything in common in that area. 'I suppose you're right. I'll draw it up for you as best I can. Whether the Magee takes a look at it or not, I'm grateful to you for thinking of it.'
She helped him clean up, then as it was nearing midnight, said she had to go.
He walked her out, and they'd made it nearly to the front door before he changed his mind. He settled it by simply plucking her up, hauling her over his shoulder and carting her up to bed once again.
As a result it was half-one when she crept into her house. Creeping was about all she had the energy for. Who would have thought the man could near to wear her out?
She switched off the light her mother had left on for her. Even in the dark she knew which boards, which part of the steps, would creak underfoot. She made it upstairs and into her room without a sound.
And since she wasn't a mother, she was comfortably unaware that her own had heard her despite the precautions.
Once she slipped into bed, she let out a long sigh, shut her eyes, and fell instantly asleep.
