One in a Million

Then Nash claimed her mouth in a warm, tender, erotic kiss that made her heart freeze in midbeat and her brain completely shut down. There wasn't any thinking, there was only feeling. Feeling and doing.

He pressed his lips against hers with just enough pressure to make her want more. Strong, large hands settled on her back. She felt his fingers, the heat of his palms, the brush of his thighs against her own. His scent surrounded her, enticed her, made her legs weak and her muscles slack. She had to wrap her arms around his neck to stay standing.

Then his mouth moved against her. Slowly, discovering, teasing. He brushed his tongue against her lower lip. She had no will and parted instantly. Excitement raced through her. The sound of her breathing filled her head. She wanted with a desperation that should have terrified her, but instead only made her reckless. She wanted deep, hot kisses and wild abandon. She wanted his hands everywhere. She wanted to touch and be touched, to be wet, to be filled. She wanted to lose herself in an orgasm that would shake the very fabric of the space-time continuum.

So when he again swept his tongue against the inside of her lower lip, she moaned low in her throat.

When he moved inside and brushed against her, letting her taste him, feel him, dance with him, she respond with an intensity that was as foreign to her as the fiery need spiraling through her.

She kissed him deeply, matching each thrusting stroke with one of her own. When he moved his hands from her back to her rear, she arched against him, flattening her belly against an impressive hardness.

They both strained to get closer and closer still. Heads tilting, tongues mating, hands roving, they gasped and kissed and nipped and surged.

She traced the length of his spine, then felt his high, tight rear end. As her fingers dug into his flesh, his arousal flexed against her stomach. He slipped his hands to her hips, then to her waist. At the same time, he pulled away from her mouth and instead began to kiss her jaw, her neck, then that sweet spot right below her ear. He licked the sensitive skin and while she was still caught up in the pleasure, he sucked on her ear lobe. At the same moment, his hands closed over her sensitized breasts.

She had to bite her lip to keep from screaming. Long fingers cupped her curves, while his thumbs and forefingers caressed her hard, aching nipples. Need raced through her. Need and desire and longing for more. She wanted to tear off her clothes, and his. She wanted him to take her right there, on the counter. She wanted it hard and fast, her legs spread, him buried deep, thrusting and thrusting until they both lost control in a shuddering release.

“Nash,' she breathed and reached for the buttons on his shirt.

He grabbed the hem of her sweater and started totug. Right then, there was a loud creak from overhead.

Stephanie knew it was just the old house settling as the night temperature dropped, but it was enough to remind her of the fact that they really were in her kitchen and that she had three children sleeping upstairs. She stiffened slightly. Nash read the signal for what it was and immediately stepped back.

His face was flushed, his eyes dilated, his mouth damp from their kisses. He looked like a man more than ready for a walk on the wild side. She had a feeling she looked just as…aroused.

Just don't think about how long it's been since you had sex, she told herself. The reality would be too depressing for words.

In the silence of the kitchen, their breathing sounded loud and unnaturally fast. Nash recovered enough to speak first. Or maybe he wasn't as nervous as she was.

“I haven't kissed anyone in a while,' he said, his voice thick with passion and slightly wry. 'I don't remember it being like that.' She had to clear her throat before speaking. 'Me, neither.'

“You okay?' She nodded.

“Want me to apologize?' he asked.

“No. Not unless you're sorry.' Oh, please, not that. She couldn't stand that.

His dark eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. 'Not even close.' He raised his hand toward her, then dropped it back to his side. 'I'd better head upstairs before… Well, before we start at it again.' She didn't want him to go, but she knew it was for the best. Ah, maturity. Why was it never as much fun as acting like an irresponsible kid?

“Sleep well,' he said as he turned to leave. 'Unlikely,' she said before she could stop herself.

He glanced at her and grinned. 'Tell me about it.'

Chapter Seven

Stephanie thought about looking at the clock, but the first time she'd checked it had been about ten to four in the morning. She doubted it was much past four now. Although she'd managed to doze on and off for a few hours, she'd spent most of the night alternating between reliving the incredible kiss she and Nash had shared and pulling the pillow over her face to muffle her shrieks of embarrassment.

What had she been thinking? Had she been thinking? No, she told herself. She hadn't been thinking at all. She'd been reacting. She'd been feeling and touching and wanting. Not thinking.

If she'd taken the time to consider her actions, she never would have allowed herself to respond with such wanton abandon. She'd been crazed with passion-a new experience for her. Her feelings of need had spiraled out of control in less than ten seconds of first contact. What did that say about her? Stephanie didn't have an answer. In all the years she and Marty had been married she'd never felt so needy. So alive. So desperate.

“Desperate?' she murmured into the night.

She didn't like the sound of that. It made her think of pitiful people doing inappropriate things without considering the consequences.

Oh, like wanting to do it right there on the counter, next to the batch of cookie batter? She pulled the pillow over her face and groaned.

She wasn't desperate, she told herself forcefully. If she was desperate, she would be out eyeing all the single fathers in town. She'd met a few at school events. A couple had even asked her out. While she'd appreciated the invitations, nothing about them had sent her into sexual spasms the way Nash did. She'd thought they were nice, pleasant men who didn't tempt her in the least. She'd found it tragically simple to remember that she absolutely didn't want to get involved again because a relationship with a man meant taking on more responsibility. Thanks but no thanks.

With Nash it was different. She found it far too easy to forget her rules and instead focus on how the man looked as he walked through a room. She could spend an embarrassing amount of time thinking about his mouth, his voice, his hands. And all that was before he'd kissed her. Now that she had actual evidence of the potential, she could easily spend the better part of her day considering the sexual possibilities. They could Stephanie sat up in bed and clicked on the lamp on her nightstand.

“Snap out of it,' she whispered aloud. 'You're a mature, responsible woman with a successful business and three kids. You have more guests arriving in a few days, summer vacation starting at the end of the week and laundry multiplying like rabbits. You simply cannot waste your days thinking about making love with Nash Harmon. It's not right. It's not healthy. It's not likely to happen.' The last was the most tragic, she thought as she flung herself back on the bed. If only he would creep into her room in the dead of night and take advantage of her. If only he would She sat up again, but this time it wasn't to give herself a stem but useless talking-to. Instead her mouth dropped open as a horrifying thought occurred to her.

She and Nash had kissed. Right there in her kitchen. It had been painfully real and erotic and incredible and wow. But she didn't know why he'd done it or if he was going to regret it come morning. Regardless, she was going to have to face him and act as if nothing had happened. She was going to have to pretend not to be affected by his presence or his voice, and she was going to have to act that way in front of her children.

She moaned, then rolled onto her side and hugged the pillow close. Why hadn't she thought that part through before she'd allowed herself to come unglued in his arms? What if he was having seconds thoughts? What if he thought she was some sex-starved freak and all he wanted was to pack his bags and move out? What if he was laughing at her? Each thought was more awful than the one before. Stephanie endured the potentials for humiliation for as long as she could, then gave up and threw back the covers. She wasn't going to lie here for another couple of hours, looking for trouble. With her luck, it would come looking for her, regardless of her opinion on the matter. Better to face the day with a smile and a happy heart.