Why Not Tonight?

beckoning him, and she shifted restlessly against his erection.

“You’re staring,” she said, sounding a bit breathless.

He raised his gaze to hers. “The view is spectacular.”

Scooping up a generous spoonful of Rocky Road, he let the ice cream slowly melt in his mouth. Then he leaned forward and drew her nipple into the chill.

Mallory gasped, a shiver of pleasure racing down her spine as Adam swirled his cold tongue around her sensitive peak. Combing her fingers through his thick hair, she arched her back, wanting more. He obliged her, then after eating another spoonful of ice cream, he lavished the same incredible sensations on her other breast. Each icy pull of his lips, each chilled swipe of his tongue, shot a stunning contrast of heat to her core.

Unable to remain still, her hands coasted over his bare shoulders, down his back, his arms, his chest, while she moved her hips, rocking her aching feminine flesh against the hard length of his erection.

“Hold on to me,” he said, his voice a husky rasp. She immediately grasped his shoulders and hooked her ankles behind him while he set the container on the table. In one smooth, strong move he rose, and a tingle of anticipation ran through her at the prospect of heading toward the bedroom. But instead of heading down the hallway, he sat her on the table.

“Lay back,” he said in that same husky rasp. With her gaze locked on his, her heart pounding at the intensity and arousal glittering in his eyes, she leaned back, bracing her forearms on the oak table.

Without a wasted motion, he stripped off her shorts and panties. Then he hooked her bent knees over his shoulders and slowly, deliberately reached for the ice cream. She watched him take a healthy spoonful into his mouth, then lower himself to his knees.

The sight of her splayed legs draped over Adam’s broad shoulders, his dark head between her thighs, speared desire through her. His cold mouth settled on her hot flesh then his chilled tongue thrust into her heated core. Her gasp of pleasure at the shocking contrast melted into a long moan of purring delight.

His tongue and lips stroked and teased until her orgasm was rapidly approaching, but then he leaned back. “Not yet,” he said, shaking his head and reaching for the container.

Easy for him to say. But seconds later, he started the magic all over again, his cold mouth and tongue pulsating the most exquisite sensations through her. This time when he brought her to the edge, he didn’t stop, and her climax swamped her.

She collapsed onto her back, gasping for breath while delightful aftershocks trembled through her. When she opened her eyes, Adam’s face loomed before her. Without a word-because who could talk yet?-she took his face between her hands and kissed him. A long, slow, luxuriously deep kiss that tasted like him and her and chocolate.

When she ended the kiss, she touched her forehead to his. “Guess what I’m going to think about every time I eat ice cream from now on?”

His warm huff of laughter feathered across her lips. “Probably the same thing I’m going to think about.”

“Is there any ice cream left?”

“Yeah. Why? You want some more?”

“Oh, yeah.” She ran her hand down his chest then trailed a single fingertip down the length of his erection. “Only this time, it’s my turn to have dessert. Let’s see how you like it.”

“Sweetheart, I can’t wait to find out.”

13

Sunday, 9:00 a.m.

LYING ON HER SIDE, Mallory came awake slowly, each of her senses stirring to life to discover something lovely. And realized that Adam was the cause.

His body spooned snugly behind hers, surrounding her, his skin touching her from her shoulders to her feet, his strong arm wrapped around her waist. His large hand curved over her breast. His deep, even breaths warming the back of her neck.

She blinked her eyes open. Ribbons of sunshine filtered through her sheer cream curtains, which ruffled with a slight breeze. Birds chirped and the crescendo rattle of cicadas floated in the air. She inhaled and smelled a hint of bacon. Which meant that Mr. Finney had fired up his cast-iron grill for his usual Sunday breakfast.

Her gaze tracked around the room, noting her unlit digital alarm clock, indicating the power was still out. Her gaze continued, passing over the candles they’d blown out, then resting on the empty ice-cream container. A flood of sensual memories washed over her and her lips curved upward.

Last night had been…incredible. She’d wanted Adam to reassure her, to help her get her groove back, and he’d succeeded on every level, and then some. Not only had he given her almost more pleasure than she could stand, but his undeniable reaction to her had filled her with a sense of empowerment she’d only ever experienced once before-and that was with him. The fact that their lovemaking was as explosive now as in the past, that she still turned him on as much as he did her amazed and delighted her. That she could make him lose control, could excite and arouse him to that degree…well, she’d certainly never had that effect on Greg.

Her gaze fell on Adam’s jeans and shirt haphazardly draped over the chair in the corner, and it hit her that she liked the way they looked there. Liked the feel of waking up with him. Just as she’d liked the feel of falling asleep in his arms. Very much. Too much.

Don’t get used to it, her inner voice warned.

Right. Because he was leaving tomorrow. Would be gone for three months on his sojourn across Europe where he’d meet dozens of interesting, sophisticated, gorgeous, exciting women who would no doubt be delighted to show him the sights-and anything else he’d care to see. Maybe he’d love it so much, he’d just stay over there. It wasn’t as if he had a house or job here to tie him down. Maybe he’d open his tiki bar on the French Riviera instead of Hawaii. Maybe he’d find the woman of his dreams in Europe.

Her heart stuttered at that thought and she fought to beat back the wave of jealousy that threatened to drown her. When she’d buried the emotion, it was immediately replaced by a dose of self-directed annoyance.

What on earth was wrong with her? This interlude with Adam was a one-nighter. Nothing more. Good grief, she was probably the one hundredth woman who’d wanted to sleep with him-this week alone. The same timing problem that had plagued them in the past still applied-they were heading in opposite directions, both personally and professionally.

Still, she couldn’t deny the extraordinary way he’d made her feel. And not only with his lovemaking, although on a scale of one to ten, he’d rated a 5,867. She’d enjoyed talking with him. Walking beside him. Laughing with him. Just as she always had. Being with him had filled her with the same heady, breathtaking, intoxicating excitement she’d experienced during their previous affair.

Yet surely all these warm, fuzzy feelings were simply the result of great sex. Nostalgia. Rebounditis. What woman who’d just discovered her boyfriend cheating on her wouldn’t dream of having a sexy guy like Adam swoop in to bandage her wounded pride with a night of unbridled sex?

But had he swooped in? Actually, no. She’d approached him. Not that he’d been at all unwilling, but still, last night had occurred at her initiative. Which made her question her motives. Why had she approached him? Was it only to assuage her battered pride? Or was it to exact some sort of revenge on Greg? Or to act on every woman’s fantasy that when she gets cheated on she can have a man at her calling? Or had it just been an impulse?

What difference did it make? He was leaving tomorrow and would no doubt promptly forget all about her and their night together as soon as he boarded the plane. His unsettled future plans were just the sort that made her queasy. Her life and career were right where she wanted them.

He may be leaving, but he’ll be back, her inner voice slyly reminded her.

Yeah, probably with some exotic supermodel glued to his side. And then he’d be jetting off to some other far- off locale, planning to relocate to God knows where. She wasn’t about to put her life on hold even if he asked her to-which he hadn’t.

No, she and Adam were like two trains traveling in opposite directions who’d just happened to stop briefly at the same station before continuing on their separate journeys.