Chapter Twelve #3
And that was simply the appetizer as his mouth moved lower, until he stopped by the waistband of her skirt.
As that, too, was an unneeded piece of clothing, instead of simply lifting it, he slid it down.
Oakley found her core and licked into her heat.
Her limbs became jelly. She could do nothing but let him take over.
He brushed aside her hands when she reached for him.
He gave and gave, taking her to heights she didn’t realize could be reached.
He did more than reset her body postbirth.
He helped her chart a fresh course. She felt like a phoenix rising from the ashes of her past. When he touched her, he rewrote her code, changing her and making her renewed.
She’d lost count of the orgasms, or the ways his fingers could be so gentle yet so precise as they roamed her body creating unique erogenous zones, both inside and out.
He was in no hurry to end the foreplay, and the more she came, the more she discovered she was the one who was impatient. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” she complained.
“Let me worship you.” He gently lifted one of her hands above her head and stretched out her arm. “I’ve wanted to do this since Dallas. Heck, probably since the first day we met. Please.”
So she let him continue, for who could resist that pleasurable plea?
He’d made the night about her pleasure, not his.
She was floating down from another orgasm when he finally gave her what she wanted by shedding his shirt.
She placed both hands on his chest, the ensuing heat coursing through her palms. She marveled at the smooth texture of hard, chiseled muscle.
He had a body sculpted by the gods. The sensation flowing through her was divine mystery, that promise of bliss and something still undefined that had to be experienced.
“Are you sure?” he asked her.
She nodded. It took her a moment to find her voice. “Yes. I’m sure.”
In one of those miracles of time, he was naked and protected before she could think to ask him, and his powerful arms surrounded her as he poised at her entrance.
He hovered until their gazes locked, and then he was inside her, and Rachel’s head moved to rest against the arm of the couch as another round of sensations began.
She had no idea where she ended and he began, but the only thing that truly mattered was how he made her feel.
Incredible. Blissful. Joyous. Changed. Whole. Perfect. Beautiful. Orgasmic.
The dictionary didn’t contain enough words. Their coupling was everything and more, a transcendence of emotion and physicality. This was lovemaking.
Not what she’d experienced before. That had been a prelude, a false flag. Going through the motions. Even in Dallas, there had been some lingering doubts.
This was true lovemaking. This. What was happening, right here. Right now.
With Oakley. The difference between sex and lovemaking was as clear as the orgasm overtaking her, causing her legs to shake. Her hands attempted to find purchase on the leather.
He brought her to the place where thoughts disappeared and pleasure reigned supreme, and when she exploded, it felt as if she was being remade, her body yielding like soft clay beneath his every touch.
He held her gently afterward. Planted kisses on her face and lips. Pressed his forehead to hers. “Incredible. Everything I dreamed this time would be.”
In that languid state of fluid aftermath, she could only nod at the wonderment as he shifted to hold her close, his arms tight around her. She’d never felt so secure.
This was yet another moment that she wished she could capture, though she had no doubt she’d remember it forever.
Her heart felt split open, and she bit her lip to keep from blurting out the three words that would change everything.
But that revelation—that this had been so much more than sex for her—had to remain her secret.
She had no idea of Oakley’s feelings. Mitch had taught her that men were different, that they could compartmentalize. Things that meant everything to a woman could mean nothing to a man.
Allie’s cry coming through the camera feed in the other room was a welcome distraction, and her skin cooled as Oakley released her. She threw on her clothes. By the time she returned with a freshly diapered Allie in her arms, Oakley was dressed and hard to read. “You good?” he asked.
Rachel wasn’t sure to whom he referred, her or Allie. “We’re good. I’m going to get her home.”
“Okay. I’ll walk you to your car. It’s next to mine.”
Now what? Rachel thought. They’d given into their lust again, and awkwardness descended as they closed the office.
This feeling of despair, of facing the unknown and the morning after, was what she’d wanted to avoid, why they’d tried to go back to what they were after that first time in Dallas.
They’d have to discuss this. Could they go back to being professional? Try again?
She had a feeling that ship had sailed. But she had no idea where she stood.
What came next? What did he want from her?
It’s not like he’d asked for a relationship, even if he’d suggested she deserved one.
He hadn’t offered to file human resources paperwork.
They went out into the brightly lit parking garage, which Rachel thought was akin to the lights coming on in a bar after closing time.
The overhead lighting exposed everything and brought home instant regret.
She secured Allie’s car seat and climbed into her car.
“I’ll follow you out.” He gave her a kiss on the lips that contained none of the passion of earlier. “Text me when you’re home safe.”
“I will. And don’t forget I won’t be in tomorrow. I’m working from home.” It was one of her scheduled days.
“Thanks for reminding me. I’ll miss seeing you.” But his smile didn’t reach his eyes, leaving her with doubts. “Remember, text me.”
He shut the car door and moved aside so she could back out. Rachel texted him a short time later, letting him know she’d put Allie into her crib and ensured she was back asleep.
He “liked” her message, but that was it.
Rachel stared at the phone screen as if willing it to do something.
Nothing else was forthcoming, nor had any text or voicemail arrived by the time she went to bed.
While she had the phone set to Do Not Disturb, she’d given permissions to Oakley’s number so that his messages and calls always came through.
Yet nothing did, and the silence was worse than a ticking clock or buzzing fly. Worry built and mixed with regret, and as the combination brewed, Rachel gnawed her lower lip. She’d slept with her boss. She’d made love to Oakley. Again.
Her boss and Oakley might be the same person, but they were worlds apart in mission and personality. Worse, she was in love with both. This crash came fast, especially as she had no one to blame but herself.
Just what had she done?