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Chapter 17
Tad was pretty sure he wasn’t thinking straight—or thinking with his brain at all—as he fell down onto Miranda’s double bed with her still in his arms. He just knew there was no way he was sending this woman off to cry herself to sleep. To believe she wasn’t enough. Or desired.
This whole situation was beyond rationalizing, in a sphere where right and wrong didn’t exist. The need was devastating. And mutual. It had to happen.
So he quit fighting the inevitable.
“Tell me what you want,” he said as he pulled his lips from hers and saw her looking up at him, those big blue eyes wide. Her blinds were closed, but she had some kind of night-light in the adjoining bathroom and it spread soft, subtle light over portions of the bed.
“I want to unbutton your shirt.”
Slipping off his jacket and tie, he tossed them toward the end of the bed, then lay back against the pillows. She had them stacked two deep and he sank into them with pleasure. “Have at it,” he said, smiling at her.
Slowly, she tended to his shirt. With each button, he could feel the soft brush of her fingers against his skin, first his chest and then lower. He could feel the passion fueling his body’s need for release growing more and more intense, too. Her movements were mind-blowingly hot and excruciating, but he didn’t stop her. When she finally reached the bottom of his shirt, he waited—partially to give himself time to recover enough so he could continue without ending things prematurely, and partially out of curiosity.
What would she do next, this glorious feminine mixture of knowing and innocence? Of strength and vulnerability. The cleavage that had been teasing him all night was above him, a temptation he was savoring. But he willed himself enough control to be able to uncover her gifts slowly, to touch and taste and know them thoroughly.
Pulling wide the edges of his shirt, she put both hands on his lower belly, and his hips thrust upward with the force of his reaction. Seeming not to notice, she slowly moved both palms upward, fingers splayed, covering every inch of skin on his abdomen, his ribs, then his chest. She rubbed her face in the hair and flicked her tongue against his nipples before taking them between her fingers, touching softly.
She might be personally innocent, but she knew erogenous places, knew how to tantalize them, and it dawned on him—she was a medical professional. Had to have studied all the major nuances of the human body. She’d probably had a course in human sexuality.
He wanted to know every little thing she’d learned on that subject. Wanted her to show him. To do things to him.
He wasn’t sure he had the time. Not on this first go-round. He groaned and she straddled him, settling her weight against his bulging fly. Not moving, just weighing him down.
“You’re going to get more than you bargained for down there, missy,” he told her, and she smiled.
“How do you know what I’m bargaining for?”
“How do you know so much about tantalizing a man?”
Her grin didn’t change as she continued to tease his nipples. “I’m actually playing out my own fantasy here, but I’m glad it’s good for you, too.”
Not sure whether she was messing with him or not, Tad rolled to his side, and then, with another quarter turn had her underneath him. One tug and he had her dress up over her hips and his hand down her panties. She was as wet as he was going to be in a couple of seconds.
He yanked at those panties and got them down low enough. By the time he’d tossed them, her legs were spread and she had his belt undone and was working on the clasp of his pants. He helped with the zipper, pulled himself free of his boxers, then took a condom out of his back pocket and opened it with his teeth and slid it on with one hand.
“I’m sorry,” he told her. “I wanted to take all night.”
“We’ve got all night,” she squealed as she thrust herself upward and over him. He moved as slowly as he could, wanting to remember every single sensation along the way, the tightness of her. The welcoming.
She wasn’t as gentle as he was trying to be as she answered his thrusts, and within a few seconds it was all over.
Remarkably, for both of them.
* * *
Blissfully sore, Miranda still wasn’t ready for sleep an hour later. She and Tad had made love twice more, taking more time, exploring.
“If I’d had any idea it could be like this...” Her sentence trailed off because she couldn’t finish it. Even if she’d had an idea, there hadn’t been a man in her life who could arouse these feelings in her.
Physical satisfaction came from more than just body parts. At least for her.
“I hope that means you’ll consider repeat opportunities as soon and as often as we can arrange?” Tad half growled as he curved into her, his arm around her waist, his face snuggled between her breasts.
“I was hoping you’d be amenable to the possibility,” she told him, grinning. Her hands, running lightly along his back, moved over the raised skin of his scars as they had several times during the past hour. This time they stopped there, tracing the lines. She sat up and climbed over him and then, lying behind him, began to kiss those scars. Lightly, one by one. Needing to know...
He turned, maybe uncomfortable that she was delving so completely into a different aspect of his life, but she couldn’t let him disappear—back into their world of secrets. She sat up. “How’d it happen?” she asked. “For real,” she added, letting him know she wasn’t going to be satisfied with the generic answer he’d given Danny and Marie at the clinic.
