Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“How did everything go today?” he asked as they headed back to the boat.
“Good.” She should give him a bigger answer than that, but her brain wasn’t working right at the moment.
He gave her a hungry look. “I feel the exact same way,” he said in a low voice that rumbled through every one of her aroused cells. “I can only think of making love to you.”
She should have denied that’s what she felt. She should have been able to act like she could focus on anything but him. But she wasn’t a liar. And she couldn’t have got the words out anyway. Instead, she swallowed hard, and when he reached for her hand and picked up the pace as they all but ran back to his boat, she was almost giddy. Giddy with relief and knowing she wouldn’t have to wait much longer. That soon they could give in to the need that had only ratcheted up higher and higher throughout the day.
They barely made it inside before they were tearing at each other’s clothes. Until they were naked on the couch. She was under him, and he was levered above her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him around his broad shoulders, his mouth lowering to hers, their bodies nearly connected again.
And then he cursed.
“Protection, dammit.” He jumped off her, dashing into the stern and returning triumphant. “It’s the last one. We need to get reinforcements.”
Again, relief bubbled out of her, this time on laughter. “We’ll make good use of this one first.”
“We damn well will,” he agreed as he leaped back onto the sofa with her.
She welcomed him, welcomed him in a way she’d never welcomed any man into her bed, inside of her body. It was as though the whole day had been foreplay. Crazy, desperate foreplay.
She took all of him in, drinking in his kisses, the almost rough caresses of his hands over her skin, her breasts, her stomach, her hips, between her legs. She arched into him, eager for his touch. For everything that he could possibly give her. And she gave him back just as much. Held nothing back, despite all her reminders earlier in the day that she needed to safeguard herself. Or her heart, at the very least.
But when she was with him, and when he was kissing her like this, touching her like this, driving her absolutely wild, making her want more than she’d ever wanted anything or anyone in her life, she forgot about keeping safe, about holding back. And then they came together, both of them wild on the couch, pillows flying off in their haste to have each other, to love each other.
For those moments, everything in the world was right. Everything was perfect. And pleasure had never been more exquisite.
“Wow,” he said when they were still clinging to each other, their skin slick with a faint layer of sweat from the exertion of devouring each other.
She smiled into his neck. “That felt really, really good.”
He laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of her forehead. “Now, that’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one.”
She laughed as well. “Okay, it might have been the best thing I’ve ever felt,” she admitted.
He grinned down at her. “That’s more like it.” Then he lowered his mouth to hers, adding, “And I completely agree.” He stroked one hand over her bare hip. “Actually, I planned to take you out in the dinghy tonight. Up the river past Hampton Court Palace, to see it lit up in the evening. Not just to tear your clothes off like this.”
“Well, I’m not complaining about the clothes, obviously, since I was tearing yours off too. But if there’s still time for the boat ride, I’d love that.”
With some reluctance, he got up off the couch and pulled her with him. “I need to get the dinghy ready.”
“And I’ll make something to bring aboard for dinner.”
They kissed again, and then they put their clothes back on, and each of them went to do their part.
She felt like she was floating. Flying again. It was like the sweetest treat she’d ever tasted. Like she’d somehow found nirvana with him. With the last person on earth that she would have thought to find it with.
In as stern an inner voice as she could muster, she reminded herself, This is just temporary. By all means, drink in every moment of the joy of being with him and the pleasure, but don’t ever kid yourself that it’s forever. Because it’s not. He’s not looking for anything permanent, and neither are you. You both have your reasons.
Her reasons, however, made more sense than his. At least to her. She had been betrayed, lied to—of course she wasn’t about to go trusting a guy to promise her forever anytime soon. But for Malcolm, she wasn’t exactly sure why he seemed to hold himself back from relationships. After all, he had such a close relationship with his own family. It sounded like his parents had a wonderful marriage. So what had happened in his past that could have turned him against the idea of falling in love? Was it simply that he was a workaholic who always put the deal first? But he was giving his time freely to her and Mari, helping to clean and restore the cottages.