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Then his hands were on her hips, turning her away from him. She understood, braced her hands on the end of the counter and arched her back, offering herself to him, glad for the early darkness of October and the thick rain clouds making the light too dim for passersby to notice what they were doing.
He was there behind her, a warm solid presence, stroking between her legs, making her shiver.
“Mmm, that is a beautiful spot...and here, too. And especially...here.” His fingers slid inside her, the pressure and movement making her gasp. “You like that?”
“Oh, yes.” She could barely get the words out. “Yes, I like that.”
“Same here.” His fingers withdrew. She heard the sounds of a condom going on, then he grasped her hips and his searching penis gave her a warm nudge.
Leaning forward, Eva lifted her bottom, reached down between her legs and guided him.
The nudge became a pressure, the pressure grew, then he sank slowly into her. She moaned at the feeling, her nerves coming alive.
Even with Ames behind her, he was no anonymous figure in the near darkness. Eva was hyperaware of his every movement, his every breath. She knew his eyes were half-closed, his jaw held tight. She tuned in to his breathing so she’d know best how to pleasure him, clenching her muscles to squeeze him tighter, lifting or lowering her buttocks, pushing back against his thrusts harder, slower, faster.
His hands covered her breasts; he pinched and gently tugged her nipples, adding to her arousal.
Eva moaned again, reached down and rubbed her clitoris, the extra stimulation making her orgasm only a matter of time.
Sensing her urgency, Ames increased his pace, rocking her body with his thrusts, both of them making primal noises of pleasure.
Warmth flooded Eva’s body.
She was going to come.
Her climax hit in a sharp burst that convulsed her muscles, making her gasp...then it tapered off and gathered again, grew into something much bigger, so big she reared back, crying out as if the oncoming wave was a physical thing frightening her.
The second orgasm hit and she went over, barely coherent, unaware of anything but the push of Ames’s cock and the immense pleasure that had taken control of her body and brain. Over and over she cried out, until Ames grabbed her hips and pushed violently, shouting as he came into her, pulsing and rocking until he, too, finally came down.
Then silence, except for their hoarse breaths. Eva stayed bent over the counter, hair fallen over her face, her heart pounding. She’d never experienced anything that powerful, physically or emotionally. She didn’t want it to end. She didn’t want to come down to the reality of what it might signify.
But of course she had to. Ames’s erection receded. The counter became uncomfortable against her body. They couldn’t stand here naked in a deserted store forever.
“Eva.” His husky, awed voice told her he’d felt what she had. He pulled out of her, turned her toward him, gathered her rapidly chilling body in his warm arms and kissed her with such tenderness that tears threatened. When he pulled back, his eyes were reflecting what she felt.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“No. No, it wasn’t.” She shook her head, clutching him to her as if she’d drown without him. “We were supposed to put up the topiaries.”
He laughed briefly, stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “I’m not talking about the topiaries.”
“I know,” she whispered. And then the tears couldn’t stay back any longer.
“The truth is—” he looked stunned, his eyes wide and dark, his face so handsome “—Eva, I’m falling for you.”
10
THERE WERE THINGS Chris had really come to like about her life—or rather, Eva’s life—here in central California. Like how the coffee shop was open 7:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m. instead of 6:00 a.m. to 9:00 p.m. And how when she’d scheduled herself to work second shift, as she had today, she could sleep as late as she wanted, then get up and go running outside. In late October. No fighting other people for treadmill space at the crowded gym—this was real running. With amazing scenery, wide-open spaces, fresh ocean air...
Then she could go home and eat breakfast outside in her backyard if it was warm enough. Even bundled up against fog or a mild chill, it felt like an exotic treat. She got her eggs from a farm stand, her bread from a local bakery and all the produce was incredible—fresh and local, not trucked three thousand miles. After breakfast she could check out the competition in the area, or check in with her suppliers or read up on the latest news in the coffee world. All without Natalie around hogging the bathroom or fussing over her wardrobe or fighting with a boyfriend or ex. No sirens, no yelling—the worst noise pollution so far were the lawn maintenance people obsessed with leaf blowers. Special place in you-know-where for them.
