He had no idea where dinner went. When or where she dropped the bag of food he’d brought. Didn’t ask. Didn’t care.
Her hands were at his waist, pulling at the bottom of his sweater. He helped, getting the garment up and over his head, dropping it on the floor. She looked at his chest—his form was something he was kind of proud of—and then up at him, her eyes glowing with all good things.
Her hands ran over muscles made firm and strong from staying active, her fingers tangling in his blond hair. When her fingers found his nipples, he gave a start. Wanted her tongue there. And bent to kiss her.
To slow things down before he embarrassed himself and ended their moment before it had really begun.
* * *
The man was Roman-statue gorgeous. Their clothes were gone—a mixture of her hands and his—and with one quick grab of his hand, the covers were thrown back. He lay back against pillows that until that moment had only touched her body, reaching for her and taking her entire weight as he laid her down, half on top of him, half beside him.
Neither of them had said a word since his “wow” and her “thank you” when she’d opened her door. She needed it that way and wasn’t all that surprised that he seemed to, as well. She’d tried to talk herself out of taking him to bed, but the argument hadn’t even gotten off the ground.
She needed to. He wanted to. No one was getting hurt.
She’d expected to be self-conscious, with her body filling out in new ways since she’d become pregnant, her breasts heavier and more saggy than perky, but with the way he stared at her, as though he was seeing gold for the first time in his life, she felt completely comfortable. Beautiful, even. A heady sensation.
Her entire body hungry for his touch, she brought his hand to her chest, inviting him to her in every way, and reveled when he played with her, kissing her throat while his fingers rubbed her nipples. Turning, he laid her back and started a more thorough exploration, revering all of her—her chin, her neck, tracing her cheeks, staring deep into her eyes.
And then moved lower. His tongue followed his fingers on her nipples, both of them teasing her at once, and then he moved again, sliding lower. Spanning her ribs as he kissed the width of her, and then holding her hips as his mouth moved along her extended stomach. Kissing, dragging his tongue across her, sending chills up and down her entire body. Every part of her knew the touch of his tongue, the sexy glide of his fingers.
She almost stopped him when he reached the new curve of her belly, tensing at first, but the way he seemed to worship the small bump with gentle caresses and small kisses sent her spiraling to new levels of emotion, fueling her need to be consumed by the passion between them. To know it all. Do it all. Expel it all.
His journey to the hot spot between her legs was slow, tantalizing, teasing and gloriously frustrating as he moved on past it just as she was about to explode. Moving down one leg, up the other, he took time to savor every single part of her body, and when he moved up to cover her, trying to slide between her legs to enter her, she gave a push to his shoulder, guiding him back, intending to know his body, the taste and smell of him, as well as he knew hers.
To pleasure him as he’d pleasured her.
She got as far as the first nipple before he groaned. Gave her a pained look and, taking her hips in his hands, lowered her down on top of him, sliding into her with obvious struggle for control. His thumb found her spot as he filled her; suddenly, she exploded, her inner muscles clutching him, before he’d made a single thrust.
He never did make one that first time. Her body had barely covered his before he came, seconds after she did, with an animalistic “ahhhh” sound that she knew she was never going to forget.
He stayed inside her when they were done. Rolled with her so they were side by side, kissing her deeply, touching softly—her cheeks, her breasts, moving on to her nipples. Before she realized his intent, he was completely hard again, and she was on her back, with him thrusting in and out of her, creating extraordinary sensations she’d never known. She came without any external stimulation, wave after wave of sensation that had her sucking in her lower lip to keep from crying out. He followed immediately afterward, holding himself deep inside her as she still pulsated around him. And then they lay there, almost reverently. Not speaking, and yet...connected by more than just their bodies. She knew a sense of rightness she’d never experienced, a sense of being right where she was supposed to be, and, as their breathing settled, she dozed off.
* * *
Well, that had been the best sex of his life. Why he was still conscious, though, Craig had no idea. He lay in Amelia’s bed, clearly welcome to drift off since the bed’s owner was asleep half on top of him, staring at the shadows in a room illuminated only by the lights left on in other parts of the condo.
He thought about dinner. The chicken that, after two hours at room temperature, would no longer be safe to eat. And soggy broccoli salad.
He thought about Talley. About her at home alone, waiting for him before she’d jump up on his bed and settle into sleep.
Went through his schedule for the next day—lighter than usual as he had a couple of meetings to attend. One a monthly meeting of all the partner doctors in the clinic. And another with a pharmaceutical company.
What he tried not to think about was Amelia Grace and where she and her baby fit into his life. Or rather, didn’t fit.
How could that be when she fit into his arms so well?
Kind of surprised at how quickly his body was springing back to life, just from the warm weight of her against him, he knew he had to get up and go. But was loath to attempt to extricate himself from the limbs tangling with hi
s.
He could slide her top half onto the pillows behind him, and then one at a time get his legs free and off the bed. Or maybe if he slowly got one leg free first, so he’d be more stable, more steady, he could then do her torso and then his other leg. Yeah, that would probably work best. If he kept his arm under her neck and around her shoulders until the last minute...
A small jab in his side interrupted the plan. Her hand? They were located on either side of his chest. The touch came again. Clearly there. And yet light. Nothing he could associate with a body part. Or digestive flatulence.
When it dawned on him, all departure plans fled. His feet were on the floor, his body bolt upright.
“What’s wrong?” Amelia sat up, seeming to take in the situation with a second’s glance, grabbing the sheet to cover herself. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I fell asleep on you...”