He stilled, angled his mouth over hers and held, then teased the seam of her mouth. She parted quickly, their tongues thrusting, her arms holding tighter to him.
Her knees fell open wider, her feet sliding up higher.
Yes, and in this moment he realized her body was starved for touch. She’d been alone for so long, and he suspected she’d devoted herself totally to her children and not to any kind of social life. With that thought, his hands went into motion. He was bolder, stroking, caressing and massaging along her shoulders, arms, sides, hips, along her thighs. She hugged him closer, tighter, her breathy moans mingling with his groan. Release—his, hers—was so close.
When hers hit, she took him right with her.
Wave after wave of pleasure pounded through his veins.
His arms clasped her closer even as they rolled to their sides, panting. Wordless. Her forehead pressed to his chest.
And words were scarce because while he’d expected sex with Natalie to be amazing, he hadn’t expected it to be the best sex ever.
* * *
Natalie stretched, luxuriating in this moment. In her choice. He’d brought the dessert to her, along with his sweet tea.
His low-slung running shorts were back on, but his muscles still tempted her. Max’s messy hair made him seem somehow even sexier. Plopping down next to her, he traced his fingers along her thigh.
The scents of perspiration and his body wash mingled into a perfume that was just...them.
She was sated. Her body relaxed and her senses hummed. And thank goodness her children slept, the monitor still playing the music softly, no sounds other than an occasional sniffle in their sleep.
She had this pocket of time awhile longer, an incredible, unexpected encounter even though she’d come prepared. She couldn’t deny, she was also a little embarrassed at the awkward start as she’d discovered those big hands of his fulfilled every cliché and combined with her abstinence had made for a rather uncomfortable start.
“You’re a patient man,” she offered, by way of a delicate acknowledgment.
“You’re a sensual woman.”
Only because he’d made her feel that way. Wow.
“I feel like we should talk about how things started, how I... It had been a long time...”
He pressed a finger to her lips. “I understand. We figured things out, I believe, and when we recover our energy, you’ll keep communicating.” He kissed her once, twice. “Tell me what you like and don’t like, what you want and don’t want...”
Her hand behind his neck, she drew him closer. “I want more of you—” she nipped his bottom lip “—and more of the pie.”
A moment of the past threatened the present. An image of blond-haired Jeremy entered her mind—their budding relationship. The flowers, the hotel where she’d first slept with her husband. A marriage. A life. Two kids. So much love and it still wasn’t enough to keep any of them safe from darkness.
Swallowing, she closed her eyes, willed herself to stay in this moment. To not slip back to the source of so much pain.
“Yes, ma’am.” Laughing, he skimmed his mouth over hers once more before they both dug in to share the rest of the pie and pass the tea back and forth.
Chewing through her last bite, she studied him, wondering...so much. “I don’t understand you. Surely there are more experienced, less complicated women out there.”
“Less complicated sounds...boring.” He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand.
Swallowing, she tilted her head, trying to understand. “So I’m a challenge to you?”
“Lady, I have challenges in my life all the time and I’m not hopping into bed with them. I just know I want you. And seeing you happy, seeing your face flushed with pleasure, brings me pleasure. That’s worth being patient for.” His tone was so simple. So measured and assured.
“You and I, together, we don’t make sense. Can’t you argue with that fact?” And they didn’t. Their routines, goals. All those things were worlds apart. And she couldn’t take another fissure, another fracture in her life.
There it was again. The past running to overtake her. A flash of her dead husband again. How they stopped talking because it was easier than arguing. That distance made more resonant after his death.
“This last thing I want to do is argue with you. I will say, I can’t claim to understand this draw I felt from the moment I clapped eyes on you. But it’s real.”
Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, and part of her just wanted to make love again and say to hell with talking, with this sharing that was somehow so much more intimate. But just as she started to lift her hand, something in his eyes gave her pause and bolstered her. Encouraged her to take another chance here.