Even if it didn't last, she could still have it, and know Mark would want her to experience all this wonderful life had to offer in whatever way she wanted.
She brought her lips to Sterling, keeping herself in the present. With him. With what could be. She teased him, enjoying him, and only him.
He hissed, tightening his grip on her hair.
"You're a dangerous woman," he whispered in a gravelly voice.
He tasted like salt and sea mist. It was intoxicating. She took more of him into her mouth, enjoying the way his thighs flexed and his toes curled. She could be this version of herself—a mixture of her old self and this new and improved edition. Itfelt like this was who she was always meant to be. It scared her in the sense that she had no idea what would happen when this assignment was over. When Bea found out Sterling knew.
But it also invigorated her because she was no longer pretending anything. She was exactly who she was meant to be. Nothing more. Nothing less. That meant something. It meant everything.
"Come here." He tugged gently at her hair, coaxing her toward him as he sat taller. He cupped her face, kissing her tenderly, yet eagerly. "You're so beautiful," he murmured. "Not to mention, a surprise a minute.” Pausing, he studied her for a moment.
“But now it's my turn." He winked, and before she could open her mouth to respond, he'd flipped her onto her back and managed to unbutton her jeans, undo the zipper, and was tossing the piece of clothing over his shoulder before she’d even gotten her bearings.
"These are nice." He traced a finger over the edge of her boy shorts.
"The style or the fabric?"
"Just the way they look on you. But they have to go." He hooked his fingers in the waistband and yanked.
"What are you, a magician? Or are you just a master at undressing women? More importantly, should I be insanely jealous?"
"None of the above. I'm just really excited." He licked his lips before tracing a path with tongue from her belly button down to her clit.
"Oh, God." Shamelessly, she raised her hips. The rasp of his stubble against her thighs sent sparks ricocheting along her skin. She'd forgotten what it was like to completely let go. To let someone else make her come unglued.
His tongue flicked across her clit, and his fingers slid inside her in a deliberate rhythm as she rolled her hips against him. She bit her knuckle to keep from screaming his name. It worked, but it didn't stifle the series of soft groans that escaped.
He sucked on her, hard, fingers digging deep, then went back to the slow circles over her clit with his tongue that drove her mad with pleasure. It built like a rollercoaster making its final climb before the biggest drop.
Threading her fingers through his hair, she pressed her heels into the mattress and braced for it. "Oh, my… God." Her climax broke, leaving her with the sudden, breathtaking weightlessness of a freefall. Her insides jerked and quivered.
It was as if a dozen orgasms exploded all at once.
Flattening his hand over her stomach, he gently brushed his thumb across her skin, as if to soothe the tornado twisting and turning inside her body.
She inhaled sharply, letting it out slowly. She did that five more times before she could even see straight. Dropping her head back, she craned her neck, blinking and caught the gaze of the turtle over the headboard.
He kissed the inside of her thigh, her hip, her stomach, and continued with a path to her neck. "This might be an awkward two-part question," he whispered. "But do I need a condom, and do you need some time to recover?"
She covered her mouth. Now was not the time to laugh. But she couldn't help herself. She laughed. Hard.
"At least my ego is intact after that, because I'm quite proud of myself."
"As you should be," she said. "But your turtle is judging. Harshly."
"He's opinionated." Sterling lifted his head. "So, the condom question. I haven't had sex in fifteen months—not that I'mcounting. I hate those things. But there's more than one reason to use them."
"I haven't had sex since Mark died, and I'm on the pill." She held his gaze, and for a few seconds, she worried she might have destroyed the moment. Bringing up her late husband while naked with another man might not have been a good move. But it was an honest one. And she'd been lying long enough. No more. Not with Sterling.
She could handle losing a job. An assignment. Even a career.
But not another person she truly cared about.
He brushed the hair from her face. Serious Sterling had returned. But perhaps a softer, more refined version as the wrinkles around his eyes weren't as pronounced and he hadn't narrowed his gaze. He just looked at her with kindness. Not pity. Just softness.
"I told you before, this isn't a passing fling with me," he said. "I care a great deal for you. More than I've ever allowed myself to feel for anyone, and I want you to know that whatever happens with us in the future, I wouldn't ever want you to erase your past."
