Triplets Under the Tree

Her core liquefied. No man had ever made her feel like this, so desperate and incomplete, as if she’d never be whole without him. She wanted...more. Wanted things she had little concept of. Wanted him to teach her about the pleasure she sought but hadn’t yet realized.

Antonio gripped her shirt at the waist and pulled it from her pants before she could protest. Suddenly, his fingertips slid up her spine, magic against her bare flesh. She reveled in it, losing herself in his touch. He palmed her rib cage and thumbed one breast through her bra. Her core throbbed in time with her thundering pulse. Her head lolled backward as he mouthed down her throat to suck at the hollow of her shoulder blade, his unshaven jaw scrubbing her sensitive skin, heightening the pleasure tenfold.

That questing thumb worked its way under her bra and the shock of his rough, insistent touch against her nipple rocketed through her with a spike of dangerous lust.

“Antonio,” she croaked and somehow got a grip on his wrist to pull it free from her clothing. “That’s too far. It’s too much. I can’t—”

She bit off the rest—she sounded exactly like the inexperienced virgin she was. She peeled her hands from his chest and tore out of his grip.

“Don’t run away,” he commanded quietly. “Not this time. I enjoy kissing you. I want to make love to you. But you keep stopping me. Why?”

Afflicted, she stared at him, totally at a loss. “You want to...”

She couldn’t even say that out loud. He wanted to sleep with her. Of course he did; she’d led him on like a wicked temptress who was perfectly prepared to strip naked right there in his gym and go at it on the floor.

This was her fault. She had no clue how to handle a man like Antonio, who was built like a woman’s fantasy come to life. Who probably thought of sex as the next logical step in this type of attraction. No wonder she was screwing this up.

“I’m not like that,” she said firmly. “I don’t run around sleeping with people indiscriminately.”

Something dangerous whipped through his expression. “I’m not ‘people’ and I object to being classified as such. You’re cheapening what’s happening between us. Also, I don’t think that’s the reason. You’re afraid to be intimate with me.”

He was offended. And disappointed in her. It scratched at her insides painfully. He’d cut through her surface protests to find the truth of her uncertainty. The realization that he understood her so well, even better than she’d understood her reticence, coated her throat, turning it raw.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I need space.”

She left the gym and he didn’t try to stop her. Good. She needed to sort out her confusion. Antonio wasn’t some random guy who’d love her and leave her, and of course he’d seen right through that excuse. Good grief, he had commitment written all over him—it was a huge part of his appeal.

Still was, but the physicality of her attraction far eclipsed it. Somehow. He’d brought out a part of her she’d never known existed. Around Antonio, she became a sensual, carnal woman that she didn’t recognize, who liked his fierce side, his raw masculinity. Who wanted to delve into the pleasures of his touch with no regard to the emotional connection she thought she’d valued above anything else. And it scared her.

Because she didn’t want to be like Vanessa. And yet, Caitlyn craved the type of relationship her sister had had with Antonio. It was a paradox, one she didn’t know how to resolve.

Antonio had offered himself up on a silver platter. And she never dreamed she’d be fighting herself over whether to accept.

* * *

Antonio gave Caitlyn her space.

It was the last thing he wanted to do, but he had enough wits about him to recognize that Caitlyn required delicacy. Not his forte. But he’d learn it to get what he wanted.

The long night stretched, lonely and uncomfortable. The enormous four-poster bed would fit five people, but there was only one person he wanted in it. He had the vague sense that he must have slept in this bed with Vanessa, but he didn’t think of his late wife at all. Instead, his vivid fantasies involved a dark-haired beauty who’d tied him up in knots.

Twice.

The first kiss had floored him. The second kiss had thrown him into a whole other level of senselessness. What had started as a way to help him move on from his marriage had exploded into something far more intriguing than he’d dreamed. When he kissed Caitlyn, her essence crawled inside him, haunting him. Pleasing and thrilling at the same time.