she liked it slightly less than civilized. Had he remembered or was this just dumb luck on her part?
He reached for her hand and drew it to his mouth. But instead of kissing her fingers or her wrist, he bit down on the thick pad by her thumb. A silly thing that had always driven her wild. Shivers rippled through her. Damn him. He remembered everything.
Still watching her, he released her hand and grabbed her by the waist. She knelt on the sofa, straddling him. With their eyes locked and a part of her unable to believe this was really happening, she lowered herself onto him.
She was hot, slick, and more than ready. He was hard as a rock. He filled her completely, making her stretch to accommodate him, and before they’d even begun to move, she felt the first quivering promise of her release. So much for self-control. The only saving grace was the way his eyes dilated and his mouth stretched into a straight line. She wasn’t the only one barely hanging on.
Still watching him watch her, she shifted so that she could raise and lower herself. He cupped her breasts and rubbed her nipples. The combination was pure paradise.
Tension built from the inside out. She rested her hands on muscled shoulders that were as hard as the rest of him. As she moved up and down, she found herself falling into a rhythm that felt familiar and incredible. He pulsed his hips in time with her movements. When the pitch of her need increased, she tried to look away but couldn’t. Not even when the first deep contractions pulled at her.
She told herself to hold on, to make it last, to-
The shudder of her release made her cry out. She moved faster as her body convulsed around him, pulling him in deeper. More. There was so much more. He dropped his hands to her hips and urged her to keep moving, his body matching her pace, taking her through every ounce of her release.
It was only when the last muscle relaxed that he tightened his hold on her and groaned. She felt him push in as far as he could. He shook violently and closed his eyes, then was still.
Brenna tried to catch her breath. Aftershocks rippled through her as she lost herself in the sense of well-being that flooded her. Strong arms pulled her close. She nestled against Nic’s bare chest. His heat and familiar scent surrounded her. He stroked her back, slowly moving along the length of her spine. She smiled. Talk about amazing. Talk about-
Oh. My. God.
She sat up and stared at him. He had the contented expression of a well-pleasured man. One corner of his mouth turned up.
“Unexpected, but very nice,” he said.
Nice? Nice! What on earth had she been thinking? She and Nic had just had sex. Sex!
She closed her eyes and shifted so she could slide off him. When she was free, she curled up on the sofa, her bare butt against his hip and covered her face with her hands.
“Just shoot me now,” she muttered, wondering how things had gotten so out of hand so fast.
Nic placed his hand on her hip. “Look at the bright side,” he told her. “At least you’re not still worried about what your family is going to think when you show up with me.”
He had a point. Great. Not sure if she should cry or burst into hysterical laughter, Brenna stayed where she was. Maybe she could disappear into the fabric and never be heard from again. She didn’t plan to ever move again…right up until Nic leaned close and whispered, “It’s ten to seven. Want to get dressed and go to the engagement party, or stay here and do it again?”
For reasons that still didn’t make sense, she’d chosen the party. Brenna sat in the passenger seat of Nic’s Jag, smoothing her hands over her dress and trying not to think about how mussed she must look.
Five minutes in the downstairs bathroom had allowed her to repair her makeup and smooth her hair. Her dress wasn’t even wrinkled. She should have looked exactly as she had when she’d left the hacienda an hour before, but something was different. Maybe it was the sated, slightly stunned expression in her eyes, or the shape of her mouth-now swollen from Nic’s kisses. Or maybe it was the aura of guilt and stupidity surrounding her.
If the dashboard hadn’t been covered in such a lovely, soft leather, she would have banged her head against it in an attempt to knock some sense into herself. Sex with Nic? Could she have been more impulsive? She was no longer a starry-eyed teenager who still believed in happily ever after. She was a mature woman with a plan for her life. A plan that didn’t include screwing up an important business relationship.
She drew in a slow, steady breath. Time to be calm. Time to be one with the universe. Time to ignore the fact that her panties were soaked and that the trembling in her body no longer had anything to do with nerves.
Was anyone going to be able to figure out what they’d just done?
“You okay?” Nic asked.
“Fine.”
“Really?”
“No.”
She glanced at him. He looked calm and in control. How like a man.
“Want to talk about it?” he asked.
She shook her head. What was there to say? That she was sorry she’d lost control and given into the desire that seemed to always be on the fringes of their up close and personal encounters? Of course she was sorry… almost.
Just then he turned from the road onto the long driveway that led to the hacienda. Brenna stiffened. Sex or no sex, she’d just brought the enemy onto Marcelli land.
Nic pulled in behind a silver BMW. There were several dozen cars parked along the wide road. White lights hung from trees and illuminated the walkway up to the three-story hacienda.
He’d grown up only a few miles from this house, but his world couldn’t have been more different. How many times had he crept out in the early evening and made his way to the Marcelli home? How many nights had he hidden in the bushes and watched through the brightly lit windows, hungry for the family he’d seen living inside? They’d belonged to each other, and to a boy who had belonged to no one, their lives had been perfect.
When he and Brenna had met and fallen in love, he’d actually thought he might one day be a part of this. A part of them. Welcomed into the family as one of their own. He’d wanted that nearly as much as he’d wanted her. In the end he’d lost both.
He shook off the memories. He wasn’t that kid anymore. He was a successful adult who had a shot at owning all this. Not the house-he no longer cared about that-but the land and the name.
“For the first time in my life, I’m wishing for a few minutes with Grandma Tessa’s rosary,” Brenna murmured. She turned to him. “Ready?”
He nodded and stepped out of the car.
From where he stood, he could see the large tent filling the backyard. The sides had been rolled up, allowing the evening breeze to drift across the set tables. More lights crisscrossed through the trees. People stood in groups, talking, laughing, holding wineglasses, no doubt toasting the happy couples with the best Lorenzo Marcelli had to offer.
“This is all going to be okay,” Brenna said when he moved next to her. She glanced at him and gave a faint smile. “I’ll give you a tour later, if you’d like.”
“Will it include your bedroom?”
“Very funny.” She drew in a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”
He followed her toward the party-goers. The sound of music drifted to them, and as they neared the house, he spotted a dance floor set up in a garden. Two couples stood out in the swaying crowd. He recognized Brenna’s sisters-Katie and Francesca.
A uniformed young woman approached with a tray of drinks. Brenna took a glass of champagne, handed it to Nic, then snatched another for herself.
“If this is a small get-together for family and friends,” he said, “what does a big party look like?”
She gulped half her glass of wine. “I know. My mother doesn’t do things by halves, so that’s a problem. This time it was compounded by the fact that Katie is a professional organizer who specializes in giving parties for the rich and famous. It’s not a good combination if you’re going for small and intimate. I should warn you that dinner has about seventy-five courses.”
“Then I won’t fill up on hors d’oeuvres.”
She finished her champagne and set the empty glass on the edge of a garden planter. Nic took his first sip.
