Miracle On 5th Avenue (From Manhattan with Love 3)
“Eva—”
“I’m taking your advice about that shower. I just hope you’ll join me.” She walked toward the stairs, unraveling her scarf as she walked. She dropped it on the floor, and then unbuttoned her coat, glancing at him in invitation. “I’m still shivering. I might die of hypothermia if you don’t warm me up fast.”
“So keep your coat on.” He spoke through his teeth and she smiled and shrugged it off, draping it over the back of a chair.
“I need to get out of these wet things.” She pulled off her sweater and heard the sharp intake of his breath. “It’s the Dance of the Seven Veils, thermal edition.”
Hoping that his need for her was stronger than his willpower, she walked toward the bedroom she’d been using.
She wanted him, and now she knew he wanted her, too, she was tired of holding back.
He followed her, but paused in the doorway, his hand on the doorjamb. His knuckles were white, as if he was preventing himself from taking those final steps into the room. “This is a bad idea.”
“Good sex is never a bad idea.” Her wet clothes stuck to her skin and her fingers were so cold she could no longer feel the tips, but somehow she managed to undress and walk toward the shower. She took her time, knowing he was watching her.
She wanted him, and she’d made it clear she wanted him. That was enough. She wasn’t going to beg.
She hit the jets with her numb fingers and closed her eyes, gasping with relief as the heat of the water warmed her freezing skin. Through the steady raindrops of water she heard his voice.
“We both know this isn’t just sex, Eva.”
His voice melted over her, rich and soothing, layered with a strength that relaxed the tension in her muscles. Her body responded to those deep tones and she kept her eyes closed, knowing that they always gave everything away in the few seconds before her mouth opened and did the rest.
“Do we?” She turned and let the water drench her hair and flow over her skin. “How many orgasms make a relationship?”
“I don’t know. You’re shivering. You’re still cold?”
“I’m not cold.” It had nothing to do with that, but she couldn’t begin to explain how she was feeling. She watched as he undressed and stepped into the shower unit, and then melted as she felt his hands stroke over her skin and the solid muscle of his thighs brush against hers. She held her breath, savoring the steamy, intimate contact of his skin against hers. She’d forgotten how good it felt to be touched, and she wasn’t sure it had ever felt as good as this. She told herself it was because she’d been starved of physical intimacy, but she knew it went deeper than that.
He eased her back against the wall so that the water ceased to drench her and instead thundered over his shoulders and down his back.
His hand was in her hair, infinitely gentle, sliding through the dripping strands, smoothing the droplets of water away from her face. He kissed her eyelids, then her cheek and finally, when excitement was a tight coil in her stomach, he kissed her mouth.
“Eva.” He breathed her name against her lips and she closed her eyes, sinking slowly into the deep, warm pool of desire that threatened to drown her.
She felt his mouth find a path from her jaw to her neck and from there to her shoulder. Anticipation was sharp and exciting, and when his lips closed over the tip of her breast she gasped and dug her fingers into the hard muscle of his shoulders.
“Now.” A single word, but infused with all the urgency of a command.
She half expected him to argue but instead he closed his hands over her bottom and lifted her, trapping her between the heat of his body and the cool tiles of the shower unit. The water thundered down, turning the atmosphere steamy and humid. Or maybe it was the chemistry between them that was responsible for the torrid, sweltering heat. All she knew was that she was no longer cold, and the parts of her that had been numb had thawed. Now she felt with every part of herself. Her skin, her lips, her fingertips. She pressed her mouth to his, feeling the dampness of his skin. His hair was sleek against his head, droplets of water clinging to his thick lashes and she felt him against her, brutally aroused.
Keeping his gaze locked with hers, he adjusted his hold on her and then entered her with a slow, deliberate thrust. Her muscles clamped around him and she dropped her head to his shoulder, welcoming the invasion, feeling his fingers gripping her bottom as he surged deep.
It was unbearably erotic, the restrained urgency, the heated intimacy. She wanted to stay like this forever, joined, connected, one.
She felt dizzy and breathless, and shockingly aroused. She tried to say something, tried to tell him how she was feeling but the only sound that emerged from her lips was a moan. Instead she showed him, sliding her hands over his shoulders, and down, lingering on the swell of his biceps, feeling the flex and ripple of muscle as he held her we
ight and drove deep. He kept up the slow relentless rhythm, thrusting deep, his mouth fused with hers, until pleasure crashed down on both of them.
* * *
Moonlight played across dark shadows and Lucas heard the soft sound of Eva’s breathing as she slept against him, curled into him like a kitten seeking refuge. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t do this again, that what had happened after the ball was a onetime thing. And here he was, naked and wrapped around Eva.
He wondered what it was about her that smashed through his self-control.
When he was with her, need overwhelmed caution.
It was a type of infatuation. A sexual infatuation that clouded his thinking. Or maybe it was just that he hadn’t allowed himself to get this close to anyone in a long time.