There was no thought to deny him, and no words that could surface through the flood of sensation. His tongue slid along her thigh, that mouth burning tiny brands into her flesh even as his hands traveled up, tracing her breasts with his fingers until they ached over her thundering heart.
She shuddered out his name, falling back on the bed as he came to her.
She could hold him close now, touch as she was touched. Taste as she was tasted. The pleasure filled her—the glide of his hands, the heat of his lips, the catch of his breath as they rolled together to find more.
No rush, he’d told her, but he couldn’t slow his hands. They wanted to take, and take more. Her breasts in his hands, in his mouth, small and firm and satin smooth, and when he feasted on them she bowed up, exposing the long, slender line of her throat.
At last, she was his.
Her nails bit into his back, scraped down his hips. Tiny thrilling pains. Then she was over him, her mouth as greedy as his, and her quick, gasping breaths roaring in his head like a storm.
Candlelight sheened over her skin, skin going damp with the heat they fueled through each other. The gold of those flickering lights glowed in the deepening blue of her eyes as he slid his hand over her, found her hot. Found her wet.
The orgasm was like a burst of light, a stunning flash that blinded her, set her body on fire then left it to glow. She felt herself slide toward oblivion, then come back into the bright, bright world of swimming sensations. Her body was awake, alive.
Then his mouth found her and sent her spinning beyond pleasure. It was a roiling heat that built and built, then gushed through her so that she was weak and wavery when he dragged her to her knees.
He looked at her, into her it seemed, so deep she thought he must see everything she was. And his mouth took hers in a kiss that made her heart tremble.
So this was love, she thought. This utter trust and surrender of self. This complete gift of heart that left you open, defenseless. And full of joy.
She touched her hand to his cheek, her lips curving as she shifted, as she wrapped her legs around him. “Yes,” she said, and took him into her. “Yes,” then arched back with a moan as the beauty swamped her.
He lowered his brow to her shoulder, barely able to breathe as she closed around him. But he drew her back to him, heart against heart. Not close enough, he thought. It could never be close enough.
Her arms locked around him, her mouth found his as they rocked themselves toward the edge, and over.
THERE WAS PROBABLY something more relaxing than sprawling on a big bed, limbs tangled with your lover’s after mind-melting sex. But Hayley figured it was probably illegal.
In any case, she’d take this shimmery afterglow.
As far as romantic nights, this one left everything else she’d experienced in the dust. Gliding on it, she curled her body a little closer to his, and smiled dreamily when his hand stroked over her back.
“That was wonderful,” she murmured. “You’re wonderful. Everything’s wonderful. I feel like if I stepped outside right now, this light inside me would blind the entire population of Memphis.”
“If you stepped outside right now, you’d be arrested.” His hand slipped lower. “Better just stay right here with me.”
“You’re probably right. Mmm, I feel so loose.” She stretched like a cat. “I guess I was pretty blocked up, you know? Self-servicing isn’t nearly as satisfying as . . . Oh God, I can’t believe I said that.”
His shoulders were already shaking as he snorted out a laugh. He hooked an arm firmly around her before she could roll away. “Happy to be . . . at your service.”
She buried her face against his shoulder. “Things just jump out of my mouth sometimes. It’s not like I’m a sex maniac or anything.”
“Well, now you’ve shattered my dreams.”
She cuddled closer, tipped her head up. “It’s nice being here like this. I mean just like this,” she said, and feathered her fingers through his hair. “All soft and warm, snuggled up in bed. I wish we could just stay, and tonight would just go on and on.”
“We can stay, and when tonight stops going on, we can have breakfast right here in bed.”
“That sounds amazing, but you know I can’t. Lily—”
“Is sound asleep in the Portacrib we moved into my mother’s sitting room earlier today.” When her eyes widened, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Mama was practically rubbing her hands together with glee at the prospect of keeping her overnight.
“Your mama . . .” She pushed up on her elbow. “God, did everybody know about this but me?”
“Pretty much.”
“Roz knows we’re . . . that’s just very strange. But I don’t think I should—”
“Mama said to remind you she managed to raise three boys, keep them all alive and out of jail.”
“But . . . I’m a terrible mother. I want to stay.”
“You’re not a terrible mother. You’re an awesome mother.” He sat up as she did, took her shoulders. “You know Lily’s fine, and you know Mama loves having her.”
“I do. I do know that, but . . . what if she wakes up and wants me? Okay,” she said with a sigh when he just lifted his eyebrows. “If she wakes up, Roz’ll handle it. And Lily loves spending time with her, and Mitch. I’m being a cliche.”
“But you’re such a pretty one.”
She looked around the room. Beautiful, sumptuous—absolute freedom. “We can really just stay?”
“I’m hoping you will.”
She bit her lip. “I don’t have any . . . things, you know? Not even a toothbrush. A hairbrush. I don’t have my —”
“David packed you a bag.”
“David . . . well, that’s all right then. He’d know what I’d want.” She felt giddy little bubbles rising up in her throat. “We’re just staying?”
“That’s the plan. If it’s okay with you.”
“If it’s okay with me?” she repeated, and a gleam came into her eyes as she launched herself at him. “Let me show you what I think about that.”
LATER, SHE CAME rushing out of the bathroom. “Harper, did you see these robes? They’re so big and soft.” She stood rubbing a sleeve against her cheek. “There are two of them, one for each of us.”
Lazily, he opened one eye. The woman, he thought, was proving to be insatiable. Praise Jesus. “Nice.”
“Everything in here is wonderful.”
“Romeo and Juliet suite,” he murmured, almost drifting.
“What?”
“The suite. It’s the Romeo and Juliet suite.”
“Really, but that’s . . .” Her brows drew together. “Well, if you think about it, they were a couple of teenage suicides.”
On a laugh, he opened his eyes. “Trust you.”
“I never saw it as being romantic. Tragic is what it was—and plain stupid. Not the play,” she corrected, turning a circle to swirl the robe. “It’s brilliant, but those two? Oops, she’s dead, I’ll drink this poison. Oops, he’s dead, I’ll stab myself in the heart. I mean,
“What you are,” he said, staring at her, “is fascinating.”
“I get pretty opinionated about books. But whoever it’s named for, the suite’s downright awesome. It just makes me want to dance all around it, buck-ass naked.”
“I knew I should’ve brought a camera.”
“I wouldn’t mind.” Holding the robe up like a cape, she swirled once more. “I think it’d be sexy if we took naked pictures of each other. Then when I’m old, and all brittle and wrinkled up, I’d look at myself and remember being young.”
She bounced onto the bed. “You got any naked pictures of yourself?”
“Not so far.”
“Look at you.” She tickled his knee. “You’re embarrassed.”
“Not entirely.” Oh yeah, he thought, she was fascinating. “You got any?”
“Never trusted anybody enough before. And I’ve got this bony build. But you didn’t seem to mind it.”
