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From the moment their bodies connected, British knew there was something irreversible between her and Donovan. A part of her wanted to feel guilty for being with another man but her heart wouldn’t let her. This felt right. His body was so hard with muscles and had been so strong to have lifted and carried her earlier this evening; his skin was so soft. Donovan turned onto his belly and British stroked his bare back.
Donovan turned his face toward her. His smile melted her heart. “Are you okay?” he asked, reaching over to stroke her face. The pad of his thumb brushed just beneath her lower lashes.
“I’m fine,” she answered with a soft smile, “everything is fine.”
“I don’t want you to have any regrets,” said Donovan.
British turned her face to kiss the inside of his palm. Her lips twitched with a grin as he shivered. “I’m where I want to be, doing what I want to do.” She leaned over and kissed Donovan on the lips. With gentle aggression she coaxed his mouth open and tasted him again. Reenergized, she pushed her body against his to urge him on his back. “I don’t think I can get enough of you.”
Donovan obliged and held on to British’s hips while she straddled his naked waist. Her body urged him to flip on his back. His hands reached for her breasts and held them, kneading them gently. Electricity bolted through her body. She realized a difference between being with Christian and being with Donovan. Donovan didn’t tire. His erection pulsed between her legs. British nibbled her bottom lip, contemplating what to do next or where to start. She wasn’t used to this wanton behavior but she wanted to devour Donovan.
Donovan sat up with her in his lap and whispered the words that filled her heart with joy and security. “We can take our time. I’m not going anywhere.”
Chapter 7
A harsh, old-fashioned-sounding bell went off next to British’s ear. She stirred in her bed and reached aimlessly to stop the sound. Blindly she found the alarm clock and hit a button to get the noise to stop. British shuddered. Her body naturally sought the heat source in her bed and found it in an oversize man. Not just any man. Donovan Ravens. She smiled as she blinked her gaze into focus. His broad back faced her. The tips of her fingers itched to trace the tattoo on his body, but she decided to wait. There was something else she needed to do but, as she lifted the covers for a peek at his bare butt, she forgot what it was.
“Dear God, woman,” Donovan croaked, “are you ready to go again?”
Giggling, British lifted herself up on her right elbow. What she’d thought was her room was actually his. That’s right. She’d followed him in here through the balcony when he’d left to get more condoms for the two of them and they’d ended up christening the room in here. “I forgot, you’re an old man.”
The little bit of covers she still wore left her body. Donovan rolled toward her, taking the blanket but replacing it with his strong arms. She’d take those any day. Last night with Donovan...this morning with Donovan, had been incredible. All she needed to do was to think about the things he did to her and she was ready to go.
“I’m old, huh?” Donovan flicked both nipples with his tongue.
A spark of desire pumped through her. “I don’t recall those exact words.”
Donovan ducked his head under the sheets. His full lips started a trail of kisses down her diaphragm across her belly. She was suddenly self-conscious of how desperately she needed to clean up. British pulled him back by his massive shoulders. “I need to shower, I must smell horrific.”
“Let’s shower after we lie here for a while,” said Donovan and closed his eyes. He pulled himself back up to the pillow by hers and, without thinking, British cocked her leg over his. They just fit together.
The realization came that she’d just been intimate with another man after a long...long time. British didn’t want to compare the two men but it was inevitable. She and Christian learned to make love together. The men were different. Christian, because of his heart, had to limit his overexcitement. British felt a mix of exhilaration and fright at Donovan’s uninhibited passion. She’d assumed Donovan would be a great lover physically, but mentally he went beyond her expectations. He anticipated needs she didn’t know she had. Donovan paid attention to every inch of her body, from her toes to the top of her head. Euphoria settled into her veins. Not wanting to forget this feeling, British rested her head but didn’t close her eyes. At least, she didn’t think she had shut them until a loud shrill woke her. This time it wasn’t the alarm clock. It
sounded like a doorbell.
“I thought we were alone,” said British.
“Hell, I paid for everyone to stay away,” Donovan growled and stalked naked toward the balcony door, which faced the front entrance of Magnolia Palace.
Damn, the man looked good naked. The white curtains billowed in the cool fall breeze. A faint smell of burning wood from a smoker on a nearby estate filled the bedroom.
A voice called out from the front lot, “British, honey,” and broke the silence of the morning.
British flopped back onto the bed. “Please tell me...”
Donovan half turned to catch what she was going to say. She wanted the bed to swallow her whole. “Is that...?”
“British, it’s your mom. Come let me in. I’m worried. You haven’t picked up and you know I like to start cooking first thing in the morning.”
The alarm clock on the side of Donovan’s bed went off again. This time British turned it off and remembered what today was. Thanksgiving.
* * *
Not since before his accident did Donovan recall a time he felt the panic need to leap out of bed, but that’s what he’d done when he heard British’s mother was downstairs waiting for them to make sure they came over to the house. Donovan would have preferred spending the day in bed with British, especially after last night and this morning—and even more when they stopped in the driveway to British’s family home.
“Well, there’s my little girl.”
Donovan hung back by the car when a burly, oversize man stepped out of the two-story farmhouse with a shotgun by his side. Folks were serious about their guns in the South. The summer Will and Zoe met, Will had been cleaning weapons with one of Zoe’s friend’s husbands when a young man came to the house to pick up the teenager for a date. Somehow Donovan knew this was no act. This was British’s father. He stood there dressed in dark green camouflage and large rubber boots, holding a long rifle.
