38. Lizzy
Lizzy
Was it my imagination that the staff raced through the courses? And it was only two courses tonight. Tabitha yawned as soon as dinner was finished, and we saw her to Darcy’s driver, who was parked in the driveway, and waved her off. We’d arranged to meet at ten in the morning at the B two: danger—don’t mess with my spot or with my female; three: nope; and four: maybe, because they do form individual friendships.”
I laughed. “You know a lot of things.”
“I’m a longtime nerd.” He shrugged. A hot nerd. “I know a lot of stuff, but Lizzy, you know a lot more about how to enjoy life.”
“Thank you for saying that,” I said, genuinely touched, and I traced down the buttons on his shirt.
“Can I ask you another question?” he asked.
“Depends.”
He chuckled. “That’s my usual answer. That first day at the lake, why didn’t you call out to me and announce yourself?”
A lifetime ago now. When I was still angry and sad and disappointed in him. “I was embarrassed to be there, and I was planning to sneak away.”
“You could have gotten away without me seeing you. I was in the water for fifteen minutes at least.”
“Mmm.”
“Ms. Bennet?” His voice was deep and grazed with husky amusement. “Why did you stay?”
I wrung my hands and searched up in the ceiling for a better answer. “Okay, I might have been sort of watching you.”
He spread his hands through my hair, and he kissed right under my ear, which tickled, and my shoulder twitched.
“Now I know where she’s ticklish. And I like that answer.” His voice was low and growly, and he kissed under my other ear. “And?”
I traced my hands over his shirt as he kept kissing and tickling me.
“What did you think?” he asked.
His hands found my waist—warm, steady—and rose up and up until he was cupping my breasts through the fabric.
The contact, even through the material, knocked the air right out of me.
The same must have happened to him, because his shirt stretched tight across his chest when he breathed in.
The sight of his outlined pecs short-circuited every coherent thought I had.
Um, what was the question again? Oh yeah. “I was impressed by your physique.”
I pulled out his shirt and reached for his skin, greedily scratching down the ridges and indents of his tight, carved abs.
“Ahh.” His stomach hardened at my touch, and he sucked in a breath. “Keep going. Yeah, I like that. I like that answer too.”
I traced the skin along the waistband of his jeans. “You’re a good swimmer.”
He coughed out a laugh. He shoved his hands into the back pockets of my jeans and hitched me closer against his hips. “And?
“Diver.” My lips twitched, and I traced around his waist to the back.
“Clearly, you saw me in my briefs. Give me something here, Lizzy.”
I loved that this intensely confident man was craving a compliment from me.
“I risked life and limb to see that arse. And it was pretty sweet.”
A pleased glint shone in his eyes. “I aim to please.”
“You did please. I saw a lot more when you got out, of course.”
“And?”
“Also impressive.”
He breathed a sigh of relief, which gave me confidence.
“I’m looking forward to seeing all these parts in another action, besides swimming,” I said boldly, smoothing my hands down his upper thighs now, knowing I’d seen a hint of the gloriousness between those legs.
“Are you now?” He cocked his head at me and started unbuttoning my linen shirt.
Slowly. Too slowly, like he was unwrapping an expensive gift, rather than disrobing me from the old clothing I’d worn all day.
I wondered if the light touches of my skin while he was doing it were accidental or whether he was torturing me. “Is this okay?”
“Yes.” I flicked the top button of his jeans, wanting to tell him to go faster, wanting him to touch me more.
“I might feel a little intimidated by all the men in your books who tend to…would you say…overperform?” he said.
“I would say, perform at the right level.”
He chuckled. “Fair enough. I like that you have standards. I will be performing at the right level, then.”
He pulled my shirt off and cast it onto a chair, then ran his fingers lightly over my cleavage.
“Someone is pretty confident of themselves,” I said, wanting him to rip my bra off with his teeth.
He arched an eyebrow over glimmering eyes. “We’ll see.”
His confidence was so deep, a thought about his experience with other women intruded, and I was suddenly gripped by a deep, gouging crisis of confidence.
The bedroom was in silk and wool calm neutrals, and I wondered stupidly about Sophia, even though I knew the room had been designed by him and Tabitha.
“What are you thinking?” he said, pushing my hair off my face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m wondering if you and she were in this room together.”
“You’re the only woman who’s been in here. I moved rooms. This used to be my study, but the view was wasted because I needed the curtains drawn for my screens.”
“Seriously? You haven’t had any women here?” Hard to believe. I could imagine women throwing themselves at him all the time.
“Not here.”
My crisis of confidence then softened to shyness. “You mentioned the curtains. Shall we shut them?”
He looked me full in the eye, and what I saw there was a raw longing exposed like a live wire that hummed loudly under my skin.
“We could if you want,” he said. “I’d love to see you against the view, though, where you belong.”
I was glad I’d waited the week for this moment, because it felt like more now.
Assured, I glanced again to take more pleasure in the soft surroundings. He truly did have a stack of romance books on his bedstand. Ha. My stomach flipped. They were all my books. Despite how much I enjoyed him being wrapped around me, I couldn’t help but unravel myself to take a better look.
“You have, what?” I asked, running my finger down the spines. “Ten of my books stacked up. And what’s this?” I peered closer at some pages with handwriting on them. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have looked.”
Except it seemed as if he’d been making notes, but some words leaped out at me that made me blush. It still happened even though I was a romance writer. My own writing made me blush sometimes.
He kicked his shoe on the carpet bashfully. “Something I was inspired to write. But yes, feel free to go ahead and read it aloud.”
“He pulled her shirt off…” I read, and Darcy’s cheeks pinked slightly.
I read further on silently, making his foray into romance writing easier to process.
Her blue-stockinged beauty only made him feel more crazed with lust, his head filled with bees, his breeches tight. That perplexed little line she got between her brows when she was reading her medical tomes set his blood on fire. The way she impatiently tucked her errant curl behind an ear.
Errant. What a good word. Cute. He was actually great at this. Oh shit, he was getting dirtier.
He prowled up behind her in the library as she perched on the ladder, about to lift out a book on…men’s anatomy. “We could swap places on the ladder,” he growled out. “I’d be happy for you to examine the real deal.”
Her full examination and running commentary followed. I could feel myself blushing hard, an ache blooming in my lower belly. Oh jeez, Darcy. This was way past me—he was going five peppers. “Holy shit.”
“Hmm?” He crossed his arms and leaned toward me innocently.
“Darcy Wainwright. I’m shocked. Nice boys don’t write like this.”
He took the papers from my hand and dropped them. They fluttered to the floor as he pulled me into his arms. “Yes, they fucking do,” he rasped out.
“What did the rest say?” I challenged him.
“I haven’t exactly memorized those pages, but I’ll tell you the gist…”
He put his lips to my ear, and his breath buzzed hot, making me squirm. He ran his hands down my sides as he described how she then climbed up the ladder, and he ducked under her skirts and ruined her. I could feel my body tingle, ache, and heat until I was a full throbbing bundle of nerves.
“And then they lived happily ever after,” he said with a chaste kiss on my cheek.
“Oh God.” I was weak in the knees, and my bones had turned to jelly. “He grunts at me all weekend at the inn. And then we’re alone, and he has so much to say.”
“I have so much to say to you. I can’t stop.” He seemed a bit bewildered by it himself. “Can I first say how sexy I find you in those jeans?” He gave my arse a good squeeze, and a groan dislodged from deep in his chest.
“These are the jeans I wore the first day. Scrambled up a tree, remember? Fell on you.”
“My point. They are wrapped around the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And you know that position you landed in?”
I stared into his eyes, and he raised his eyebrows as if to say, Yes. I meant exactly what you’re thinking. Did he mean my legs around his neck?
He smiled and nodded as if he could guess my thoughts. “Let’s do that without our clothes on.”
He traced lazy fingers along my waistline, sending a sharp pulse of heat to my core.
“Think of it as a further get-to-know-you activity.” His voice dipped low. “But one I definitely want to participate in.”
A tingling excitement radiated through me. He was referring to the meet-and-greet activities at the Amor Inn weekend. Now that I knew Darcy better, I’d loved how he was forthright and kind of silly in a sexy way.
I hooked my finger into his belt loops and tugged him closer to me. The look in his eye revealed he’d been hoping I’d do something like this.
He scraped my hair back from my face with a new, more commanding energy. “Now, I’ve done enough talking. It’s time for me to perform at the right level.”