26. Twenty-Six
Twenty-Six
Juliet
W aking up in Henry’s bed filled my sleepy mind with images of the beach. I inhaled deeply, letting the scent of his skin—deliciously male, mixed with a lingering trace of that amazing soap—fill my lungs. When I finally dragged my eyes open, he was lying on his side, watching me with a half smile tugging at his lips.
“That’s a little creepy,” I informed him. Though I tried for a scowl, I failed miserably, too content to pull it off.
Henry just grinned. “It’s only been a minute or two. I figured you must be waking up, since you started smiling like that.”
“I like waking up with you, what can I say?” I rolled to face him and tucked my hands under my cheek.
“The feeling is mutual,” he said, reaching over to brush a lock of hair off my face. “You are absolutely breathtaking.”
His tone was low and sweet and it sent a wave of pleasure crashing over me. Then his fingers trailed down my bare shoulder, causing my breath to catch in my throat. Through the cotton sheet covering my breasts, he traced lazy circles around one nipple until my eyes fell shut again under the onslaught.
“So amazingly beautiful, not to mention courageous, talented, and passionate,” he murmured, just as I pushed him onto his back to straddle his hips.
“You shouldn’t start something if you don’t intend to finish it,” I warned, then covered his lips with my own.
Henry’s hands gripped my hips as I rocked just enough to coax a groan from his throat. Once I released his mouth to raise a brow in challenge, he grinned and rolled us so his long body was stretched over me.
“Oh, I plan to finish it,” he promised, reaching for a condom from the drawer in his nightstand before settling back beside me.
His lips trailed over my skin, gossamer light, finally closing over one peaked nipple as he sank two fingers inside me.
“Henry,” I gasped, needing more.
Needing him.
“Juliet,” he murmured into the crook of my neck, then his fingers moved away, circling my clit one final time before his hips took the place of his hand and he thrust home.
My head fell back on a sigh. Every movement was dreamlike, slow and drowsy in a way that made me feel like we were still only half-awake. The pace he set matched that sleepy haze around us, unhurried even when the depth and stretch of him filling me over and over again had me whimpering into his kiss, shifting my hips to spur him on.
He held out, resisting my attempts as amusement sparked in his eyes. Finally, when I was ready to beg, he nipped at my lower lip and lifted my knee higher, stroking deep inside.
I moaned, arching into every thrust. He rolled my nipple between his fingers until I clenched around his cock, then his hoarse groan melded with mine and he dropped his hand between us, circling his thumb at that same lazy pace.
God, those hands.
The orgasm crashed over me without warning, tightening every muscle in my body until Henry swore aloud and his thrusts grew frantic, each one prolonging the waves of my release. Then, with my name on his lips, he growled into my neck and shuddered through his own while I clung to him with all four of my limbs.
Time became irrelevant when I was with him. I had no idea how many meals we might've missed, whether days had passed or only hours. This boneless contentment was entirely foreign to me—and I was fairly certain I could get used to it without any trouble at all.
At some point later in the morning, I was vaguely aware that Henry had slipped out of bed to let Blue out and give the dog breakfast, but once he was back at my side, I was altogether happy to forget everything but him.
“I think you might be a bad influence,” I said at one point.
He merely smirked in response and countered, “I think maybe you’re the bad influence.”
“Interesting theory.”
It sent an odd thrill through me, realizing that I was having the same intoxicating effect on him that he had on me.
“Since you’ve clearly proven that your knee has recovered,” Henry said with a grin, “I wondered if you wanted to go see my actual favorite place today?”
“Is it as interesting as this?” I asked, pretending to consider as I paused in my exploration of the planes of his chest to lift a brow.
When I remembered he’d mentioned bringing my camera and sketchbook, all pretense evaporated.
“Yes, I do want to see it,” I said eagerly. “Can we stop at the cottage for my stuff?”
Henry grinned at my excitement and kissed me once more before answering.
“Of course. I’ll drop Blue off with Mark while you get dressed.” His eyes landed on where my blouse lay draped over a lampshade. “Assuming you can find all of your clothes.”
While he threw on jeans and a fresh tee, I rose to the challenge, searching the room for undergarments that had been hastily discarded the night before. Henry was gone and back by the time I came downstairs, my clothes rumpled enough that his eyes heated. He handed me a sandwich, which I scarfed down in record time.
I lifted my chin when his broad, knowing smirk sent heat to my cheeks. “What? I worked up an appetite,” I said primly.
He only shook his head and kept on grinning at me as we left the house.
When we reached the cottage, I changed into clean clothes, then shoved my camera and sketchbook into my backpack. After a bare second of hesitation, I discreetly added another change of clothes to the bag, just in case, while Henry checked the backyard again.
I tossed the backpack over my shoulder and returned to the kitchen, watching him through the window. The day was still and silent, without a trace of anything—or anyone—near the cottage.
He smiled at me when he came back in. “Ready to roll?”
“Yes. Where exactly are we going?” I asked as he looped the backpack over his shoulder and took my hand.
“Patience, Red. It’s a surprise. Believe me, you’re going to love it.”
He kissed me quickly and led me out the back door instead of the front. My brows shot up in surprise. The fact that he paused to lock the door behind us managed to tarnish the haze of contentment around me, but only a little. Together, we cut across the yard, heading into the woods along a tiny trail close to the lake.
“You didn’t bring your fanny pack,” I teased. “What if I need first aid again?”
Henry snorted. “I’m hoping my presence is enough to keep you from falling down any hills today. If you stumble, though, feel free to grab onto me.”
“My hero,” I replied, leaning my head against his shoulder.
The trickle of sunlight through the branches overhead gave the world a glorious glow of green and gold, reminding me of his eyes. The trail here was easy to navigate and, fortunately for me, mostly flat.
After several quiet minutes, the path narrowed a bit as the forest grew more dense around us. Henry took advantage of the opportunity to tug me closer against his side, but he didn’t speak. He’d watched me sketch enough times that he knew when my mind was tangled up in art. I was busy studying each color and texture as we picked our way between the trees.
The only sign that we were almost to our destination was his careful attention on my face when the path opened to a clearing. I gasped aloud as the utter enchantment of the place washed over me.
“Oh,” I breathed, moving to the center of the clearing and turning in a slow circle. My tone was hushed, my body alight with wonder. “What is this?”
“This was Nan’s special hideaway. Toward the end, she couldn't make it out here herself and asked me to take care of it for her.”
He lifted a finger to twirl one of the dozens of windchimes hung from the branches above us. Suncatchers danced and glittered on the breeze, sending rainbow streaks of color across the ground. At the far edge of the clearing, the trees parted just enough to give a glimpse of the lake beyond.
“Oh, Henry,” I said, my chest tight with emotion. “Thank you for bringing me here. This is perfect. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
With a patient smile, he slipped the backpack from his shoulders and handed it to me, then sat on the ground with his back against a tall oak tree. There was a curved wrought-iron bench wrapped around a tree across the clearing, but I'd already zeroed in on it. I figured the ground was probably more comfortable anyway once I moved closer to inspect the bench.
“Take your time, Red, just let me know if you need me to move out of your shot.”
I barely even heard the words, though I nodded absently. This was even better than the day he brought me to the lake. I couldn’t stop smiling as I took it all in, as I basked in the beauty of this magical setting. Surrounded by nature, with the play of color from the suncatchers dancing over my skin, I felt like a wood nymph or a sprite of some kind.
I lost track of time as I tried to capture every nuance of the clearing, both in my mind and on camera. Henry had closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the tree, so I snapped a few covert photos of him as well. He looked scruffy and a little dangerous in his black tee and jeans, a fascinating contrast to the rainbows and windchimes dancing above him.
When I had at last absorbed my fill and gotten photos and sketches from every angle imaginable, I said as casually as possible, “You mentioned you’d pose nude for me, so I’m thinking that bench would be a good spot. Why don’t you get undressed?”
As expected, Henry’s eyes flew open in mock horror.
“You little imp,” he growled as I laughed and danced out of reach. Instead of rising to his feet to chase after me, he held out a hand from where he sat. “Come here. I dare you.”
Cocking a brow, I tucked the camera back into my bag and warily approached him. I took his outstretched hand and he tugged until I tumbled onto his lap, laughing breathlessly. When his arms locked around me and his lips feathered across my ear, my laughter faded into a whispered sigh. There was no mistaking the shiver that went through me.
“Someday, I’ll bring you back here and make love to you right over there,” he whispered, his voice husky with promise. “With all those rainbows dancing over your body and the chimes echoing every cry of pleasure.”
Distracted as I was by both his words and his lips against my skin, I almost asked why not today—then I remembered my promise not to go out hiking alone, the events that led to that particular promise, and my mother’s warning.
A matter of life and death.
No matter how calm he’d tried to sound the day before, Henry thought someone had been outside the cottage, watching. Waiting. He’d trusted my certainty that I heard a gunshot at Cooper’s Point, and I trusted his belief there might be some danger out there. My head fell back against his shoulder.
“Someday better be soon,” I grumbled.
He laughed softly and dropped his lips to the pulse below my jaw, which jumped beneath the caress. His teeth grazed my shoulder and I sighed, blinking up at him.
“It will be soon, if I have anything to say about it,” he promised, “but in the meantime, what do you say we head back to my house? We can while away the afternoon, order some dinner, maybe track down some . . . dessert?”
“I’d say that sounds like heaven,” I murmured.
I kissed him swiftly before I rose to my feet and offered him my hand. A slow, incandescent smile lit his face as he clasped it.
“Then let’s go home.”