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They didn’t share a word, complete silence in the darkened room, except their breathing, their sighs and moans of pleasure, and the crackle of flames. It was sexy and seductive, and she’d never known lovemaking like it. Only with Cal.
He kissed her hair and the tender flesh of her neck as he circled his fingers under her breast, then finally pulled the lacy cup aside to tease her bare flesh. Everything turned hot inside and out, and then, as though reading her mind, he moved his hand to the waistband of her jeans.
He popped the button and unzipped her, slipped his hand inside, skimmed the lacy thong, glided under the material until he found her sex. Wet and hot and so incredibly ready for him. She hooked her leg over his, opening herself to him. He touched her in the room lit only by firelight, without words, without looking at each other, and it made it all the sexier, all the hotter.
She moaned when he found the apex of her pleasure, circling, teasing. She turned her head slightly and gave his bicep a love bite. She loved the seductive sound of his groan.
Together, they shoved down her jeans, then she silently gave herself over to him, to his touch, to his kisses, to his need.
It was bliss, it was ecstasy. His touch built a fire, searing her body as though the flames were licking at her skin. She searched for the peak, felt the quivers and quakes moving through her, building moment by moment, until the pleasure was so intense it flung her off to the stars.
Even then, instead of crying out her pleasure, she let the silence of the night wrap around them, making the sensations even more delicious and powerful.
He undid his pants, pushing them down so he could slide his hard shaft over her sensitive flesh, again and again, pushing her to the edge until she was gasping, her fingers clutching the rug.
Finally, he thrust home, hard and hot and deep and fast. At last, she cried out as pleasure tore through her yet again, lost to everything but Cal.
* * *
Lyssa’s climax was the most exquisite sensation he’d ever known. He tried to hold out, wanting her pleasure, and his, to go on forever. Wanting her forever.
But he was no match for her obvious need to haul him into the bliss right along with her. To be with her in need, and beauty, and what he knew deep in his bones was love.
Afterward, he held her tight. They didn’t need words. In this moment, with her heart beating against his, they were so close, closer than he’d ever been with anyone else.
True communion and connection, he’d finally realized, didn’t need words.
I love you, he said, silently speaking from his heart to hers.
And even as he sensed she still wasn’t ready to hear the words aloud in the light of day, he hoped she could hear them as she lay in his arms tonight.
* * *
Lyssa woke the next morning sheltered in Cal’s arms. In tacit agreement, neither of them spoke about the night they’d shared.
Or maybe she was the one who didn’t want to talk about it. A few times, she thought he might say something. It was in the way he looked at her, with a hopefulness he couldn’t quite hide. She knew what he wanted.
He wanted her to say that the trip had worked, that she loved him. And if she was completely honest, she wanted the same thing from him.
And yet…
She couldn’t shake the fact that she didn’t have all the puzzle pieces that made up Cal the man. Until then, how could she possibly risk the last piece of her heart she was still shielding out of sheer self-preservation in the wake of the pain he’d caused before?
She’d never been shy. Never been afraid of asking for what she wanted.
But she’d also never faced something this big. This life-changing.
She would ask him about his past, she vowed. As soon as the perfect moment presented itself.
They packed up just before checkout, then headed to the boardwalk to say good-bye to the elephant seals and gaze at the ocean as the sun sparkled on the waves.
Her fingers wrapped in Cal’s, she said, “What a gorgeous day.”
His answering smile was as brilliant as the sun. “I’ve never seen a better one,” he agreed.
Before either of them could say more, her stomach growled, loudly, crying out to be heard.
“I’ve got a brilliant idea.” Cal pointed to a diner that boasted the best hot dogs on the coast. “I’m thinking we can’t leave town without finding out if their claim is true.”
Lyssa laughed. “They’ve got to be better than the hot dogs Matt always burns on the grill.”
Nodding his agreement, they headed to the restaurant. It was cute, with a green and white checkerboard floor, red-cushioned benches, white Formica tabletops, an old-fashioned jukebox in the corner, and the delicious scent of hot dogs sizzling on the grill.
