In. So. Far. Over. My. Head …
Kael prowled toward me. “Let’s have sex then.”
“Um … no.” My nervous laugh made an appearance.
“Why not?”
“Because my daughter is at home. And I said it was a one and done.”
“Twice.”
“You know what I mean.” I backed away from the island as he closed in on me.
“Come on, Mrs. Smith …” He hooked my waist with his arm before I hit the metal shelving unit with the herbs on it.
“Don’t call me that.” My breathless response added nothing real to my words.
My hands pressed to his chest as he dragged his nose along my neck, from my collarbone to my ear. “You say that, but I think you like the idea that we feel forbidden in your rule-abiding world.”
“My daughter’s home.”
“It’s not a date,” he whispered in my ear. “I’m not taking you home.”
Kael didn’t just wake up my libido that had been asleep for years. He stripped it naked and flicked it with his tongue so hard I couldn’t keep it in check with him in the same room.
My fingers curled into his apron, showing a little strength. I was older. Responsible. Mature.
We weren’t having sex on a whim in a public place of business. “Not happening.”
My body hated my mind’s level of maturity. It was the only part of me that said no to Kael. My nipples, my heavy breaths, my flushed skin, my salivating mouth, and the trickle of arousal between my legs all screamed, “YES!”
He bit my lower lip and tugged it before sucking it into his mouth for a few seconds and releasing it. “Just the tip?”
I didn’t want to grin, but it happened anyway. My head drew to the side as I tucked my chin to hide it. “Stop it …” I choked on a stifled laugh. “It had just …” I wriggled out of his hold on me and distanced us with a good five feet.
“It had been a while for you.” His voice dipped into that Mr. Nice Guy tone. A touch of sexy and a whole lot of compassion.
“Yes.”
“It’s hard to stay in control when you’ve denied those basic needs for so long.”
“Yes.”
“Well … then you had a good excuse for temporarily losing your mind. What was mine?” A little vulnerability leaked through his smile.
It held its own kind of sexy. It made me feel equally wanted. A handsome and ridiculously sexy man—twelve years my junior—wanting me in such a physical way.
“Does it have to make sense?”
Kael eased his head side to side.
“Does anyone have to know?”
Another subtle head shake.
“Does it have to mean anything?”
He didn’t respond, but the confident expression he held answered my question. Kael didn’t need a wife or a girlfriend. He didn’t need someone to keep him warm in bed. And he seemed perfectly content with that life.
I needed …
That was just it. I didn’t know what I needed. But after a night with Kael, needing nothing beyond the now—the present moment—felt really good.
Liberating.
Gratifying.
Limitless.
It magnified just how suffocated and trapped I’d felt the last few years of my marriage.
“I’m going to need more than the tip. So I hope you planned for the unexpected.”
“It’s sort of my motto.” His mouth quirked into a knowing grin.
My fingers unbuttoned my wool coat as he took purposeful steps toward me. I shrugged it onto the floor. His hands claimed my face first. I let myself melt into him, the warmth of his touch, the mint from the candy mixing in our long kiss.
The kiss.
I’d forgotten how amazing it felt to be kissed. To crave the taste of that person.
Our clothes dropped to the floor one piece at a time. My bare butt landed on the island, and he pushed into me as my limbs wrapped around him. We fucked. And it was glorious.
The profanity looping through my thoughts lost its taboo status. It wasn’t a word that made me recoil as it had for years. It was just a word—the best word to define our indulgent sexual act. I wasn’t searching for love or an emotional connection. That truth felt more sinful than the f-word circulating in my head.
I felt so many things as his mouth sucked my skin, as his hands caressed me intimately, as he moved inside of me.
Undeserving.
That was it. While I allowed myself into a bubble of pleasure, I felt a looming reality awaiting because I felt undeserving of stealing something so carnal, so private, so instinctual all for myself.
A drug that I didn’t truly need. It just felt so. Damn. Good.
If we were nothing more than souls in mortal bodies, why did taking such pleasure have to be filled with rules and tainted in shame?
Why couldn’t we let our brains and hearts love, but let our bodies feel the tangible things in life that made our hearts race, our skin tingle, and our muscles grip and pulse in immeasurable rapture?