Chapter 17 #2
His pathway was an intoxicating surprise. Precise, as purposeful as he was. But so much more. He took his time to explore her mouth, allowing her to get to know his. Lips soft and gentle, and then more demanding, he took her more deeply into him, somehow, than she’d known a mere kiss could do.
So much so that her hand left his lower region as she had to plant both palms on his cheeks, to be there completely with him.
And when his pelvis pushed against hers, lighting a fire within her that would singe her without him, that was right, too.
She didn’t speak. Didn’t need words from him.
They’d have been superfluous. Interrupting the communication that mattered.
With her eyes wide open, she drew her palms up his sides as he sat up to remove the shirt that had ridden up on him during the night.
And then, lying half on top of him as he rested back against his pillow, she watched as she let her hands get to know every inch of his chest. His shoulders. His stomach.
And squealed when he suddenly rose up and over, lowering her to her back after stripping off her half shirt.
Her breasts tight, nipples hard, she lay there a willing and eager captive, delighting in the almost reverent look in his eyes as he cupped and caressed, teasing her nipples with his fingers and then his tongue.
Before his mouth suckled in the age-old ways of time.
Just as she was losing herself to that pleasure, liquid seared through her, pooling in her crotch, and as though he’d known the second it happened, he slid on top of her, straight legs to straight legs, teasing her as he moved himself up and down in the crevice between her thighs.
Holding her knees together, she let her clothed thighs caress his hardness, reaching higher and higher as, with each pass, he pressed at the nub of her.
And when she was going to fly off without him, she rolled them to their sides.
He reached for her pajama bottoms, got his own bottoms off and, kissing her, showed her another layer of hunger as he taunted and played with her, allowing her to explore him more completely than she’d ever known a man’s body.
More than she’d ever before had a curiosity to know one. But, in those moments, couldn’t know enough.
And then, somehow timing her need perfectly, he was just there, half on top of her, and she spread her legs wide open, inviting him in.
His initial entry after condom duty was slow, as though he was taking his time to say hello, to know her, in particular, before he danced with her.
She accepted his presence inside her with pure joy, welcoming his size, his strength, his need.
And when it was time to fly, she was there with him, too. Her body moving as urgently as his did, their need to reach the sky seemingly the same.
Until, in one breath, they cried out, her body convulsing around his as his pulsed within her.
There’d never been a more perfect dance.
A purer joy.
And minutes later, with her naked body beside his under the covers, lightly touching his, she fell back to sleep.
Mitchell slept, and when consciousness returned, he was wide awake. Forget-falling-back-to-sleep awake.
What in the hell had he done?
Allowed her to do?
Encouraged her to do?
Checking for the blinking lights of the alarm sensors that greeted him every morning, he left his bed in spite of the fact that dawn had not yet made its appearance.
Taking his phone into the bathroom with him.
A quick look at the downstairs cameras, verifying that there’d been no breaches during the night, he went straight for the shower. A cold one.
And returning five minutes later to his room fully clothed in the blue jeans and shirt he’d put in the hamper the night before, he wasn’t at all surprised to find Dove gone.
He had to shave. To grab clean clothes and get into them.
But first, he made a trek down to the kitchen. To get his coffee.
And to make certain that no unseen danger lurked in Dove’s midst. Standing outside the bathroom door between her room and the kitchen, he heard the shower running. Took a peek in her room just to assure himself that everything looked normal, and conceded that he was being a little paranoid.
Most particularly when he was relieved to find that she hadn’t packed her bags.
The fact that they’d had sex didn’t change the circumstances that were keeping them together. He had to make certain that she shared his understanding on that point.
Which was why, fifteen minutes later, when she came out dressed in a gauzy orange flowing skirt with yellow flowers, another long-sleeved cropped shirt in green silk and sandals with ties that ran up to her knees, he was standing barefoot and unshaven in his kitchen, still wearing yesterday’s clothes and sipping coffee.
The peaceful expression she’d been wearing as she’d entered the room disappeared the second she saw him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he told her. Except that change, the second she saw him, gave lie to his words.
“Someone called. Who? Kansas? Welding? Your brother?” And then with a deep breath, “The hospital?”
The stiffness in her shoulders propelled him toward her, to reach for her. Except that he had a cup of hot coffee in his hand.
And they weren’t…a couple.
“No one called. I just…needed to make certain that things were okay. Between us.”
The immediate softening of her features eased his tension immensely. Until she frowned. “Why? Aren’t you okay?”
Thinking of the night before, the incredible pleasure they’d made together, he said, “I am.”
She nodded then. “You just thought I wouldn’t be.”
With a nod he shrugged. Guilty as charged.
“No strings attached. No commitment of any kind to any future involvement between us,” she said, her gaze clear as she looked straight at him. Repeating what she’d said after the first time the subject had come up right there in his kitchen. “You think I was just kidding about that?”
Another shrug was all he had to give her. He wasn’t even sure why. It wasn’t like any of the women he’d been with had come after him wanting a wedding ring after one night together.
“Sex is a part of nature, Mitchell,” she said then, moving to the refrigerator to pull out the container housing her bizarre grasslike breakfast. “Our bodies are designed to need it. Just like they require—” she held up the container “—food.”
He should have been elated by her response. Instead, while he was pleased that she was in a good mood, he felt a little deflated.
Grabbing a fork, she stood there and took a bite of the same unusual meal she’d had the other two mornings they’d spent together.
Then, swallowing, she glanced up at him, with an almost otherworldly smile on her face, like she had some kind of great secret.
“But we did it in a pretty phenomenal way, huh?”
To which Mitchell said, “We sure did,” and hightailed it out of there.
Before he was tempted to throw caution to the wind and ask her for a repeat performance on the kitchen floor.