There was a man in her bedroom.
Right now, even while she was supposed to be making coffee, Todd lay asleep in her bed.
Until he had stepped inside last night, her place had been a man-free zone. After what had happened with Garrett, she’d wanted to keep it that way. She’d rented it after law school, furnished it with girlie stuff and her mattress had been practically virginal.
Not anymore, she thought with a grin as she reached for the can of coffee and the scooper next to it. She had languid, morning-after glow and a couple of sore muscles to prove it.
She added water and flipped on the coffeemaker, then leaned against the counter. In theory she should probably be having regrets or even second thoughts. Last night really wasn’t like her at all. She was more sensible, more careful, much less impetuous. Which she would go back to being very soon. Right now she just wanted to wallow in the hot memories of what they’d done.
She felt good—too good to feel bad.
“Morning.”
She glanced up and saw Todd standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He’d pulled on his slacks and his shirt, but hadn’t buttoned the latter. She could see bare skin and tapered muscles. He also looked mussed, unshaven and too sexy for words.
Unexpected shyness gripped her. “Hi,” she murmured, then cleared her throat. “I’m making coffee, which you can probably guess.”
“Good. Thanks.”
His dark gaze settled on her face. She had to fight the need to smooth her hair, even though before entering the kitchen she’d stopped in the bathroom to wash her face, brush her teeth and make sure her hair didn’t look as if it had been attacked by angry birds.
She had no idea what he was thinking. He probably did this sort of thing most mornings, woke up in a strange bed. She could let him set the tone. Except that wasn’t her style. She was far more take-charge. Her sisters would be happy to provide testimony on her behalf.
“So I’m out of practice,” she said with a shrug. “The whole strange-guy-in-my-bed and all that. I didn’t expect last night so I certainly didn’t prepare for this morning. What would you like to do? Shower? Leave? Get my phone number?”
He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame. “You’re honest.”
“As I was last night. It’s kind of something that sticks with me. I like to think I’m a trendsetter. Plus, I’ve never understood the thrill of lying. The truth comes out eventually.”
“Interesting point. What are your plans for the day?”
Plans? It was a Saturday. “I, ah, have to run some errands. I brought some work home and I’m meeting my sisters later for lunch.”
“Busy lady.”
“It happens. And you? What are you doing today?”
“Meeting my cousin, but that’s not until later.” He glanced down the hall, then back at her. “Can I take you up on that shower? Maybe borrow a toothbrush?”
“Sure.”
This was so weird, she thought as she moved down the hall and opened the small linen closet by the bathroom. There was a single unwrapped toothbrush, which was, unfortunately, bright pink.
“Sorry,” she murmured.
“I’ll survive. Do your razors have flowers on them?”
“No, but they’re mostly purple.”
“Such a girl.”
“Would you be more comfortable if I were a guy?” she asked.
He shuddered. “No. Although it would have made for an interesting conversation.”
She handed him a couple of towels, then pointed to the bathroom. “Have at it.”
“Okay, thanks.”
She returned to the kitchen and reached for a mug. There was a man in her bathroom. A soon-to-be na**d man who would shower and use her soap and it was all very strange. She should—
“Julie?”
She set down the mug and walked back into the hall. The bathroom door stood partially open.
“What? Is there a problem?” she asked.
“Sort of.”
She paused just outside the bathroom and opened her mouth to speak. But before she could say anything, he grabbed her arm and pulled her inside.
He was na**d. She grasped that much right before he drew her close and kissed her. Naked and hard and apparently still in the mood, she thought happily as she parted her lips and let the games begin. His tongue teased hers before he shifted his attention to her neck.
“You’re wearing a robe,” he murmured against her skin.
“Yes, I am.” She sounded breathless, which made sense. She was breathless.
“That’s gotta go.”
He was a man of his word. He tugged the tie loose, then pushed the robe off her body. She was na**d underneath—a good thing what with the way he immediately began to caress her breasts.
His touch was inspired, she thought as her mind began to fog as passion and need took over. In a matter of seconds she was wet and swollen and hungry for him to be inside of her.
While he bent down and licked her tight, sensitive nipples, she rubbed his shoulders, his back, then kissed the top of his head.
He straightened. “Okay, time to shower.”
Shower? “What?”
He took her hand and guided her into the tub, then pulled the curtain closed. He urged her under the spray, then reached for the soap.
After lathering his hands, he began to wash her all over. The soap made her skin slick. His fingers glided and slipped as he first cleaned her, then teased her.
He washed her back, her hips, the backs of her legs, before rinsing her off. Then instead of turning her, he just moved in close and with her back pressing against his chest, began to run his hands up and down the front of her body.
He caressed her neck, then did a thorough job of cleaning her breasts. The combination of soapy fingers against her ni**les and pounding hot water made her weak and hungry with need. She covered his hands with hers to keep him in place while she leaned her head against his shoulder.
“There’s more,” he whispered in her ear. “Much more.”
Without warning, he stepped back, then turned her. He lightly kissed her on the mouth before dropping to his knees and pressing another opened-mouthed kiss to her stomach.
Her muscles clenched in anticipation. The water ran down her body. He urged her to put one foot on the edge of the tub, then he leaned in, parted her flesh and licked her. She cried out as his tongue circled the very heart of her, before moving across her swollen center. She felt his lips, his breath and the steady pressure as he pleasured her.
She had to brace herself by placing one hand on the wall. Her legs began to tremble as her muscles clenched. He moved slow, then fast, licking, sucking, forcing her higher and closer. Her breath came in pants. She was completely his to command as the promise of an incredible orgasm kept her frozen in place.
She wanted to beg. If she’d known any state secrets she would have yelled them, anything to have him keep doing what he was doing. She felt herself spiral closer and yet her release remained elusively out of reach.
More, she thought frantically, she needed more. But how?
He must have read her mind because he slipped two fingers inside of her. Even as he continued to kiss her so intimately, he filled her and the combination was too much.
She lost control right there, in the shower, with the water pounding and an incredible man between her legs. She gasped for breath and screamed and shuddered until she knew that nothing ever again would ever be this spectacular.
Her release crashed through her, leaving her exhausted and boneless. Todd stood and smiled, then pulled her close. She could barely gather the strength to hug him back.
The thought of doing to him what he’d gone to her perked her up a little. She stepped back, but before she could do anything else, he reached behind her and turned off the shower.
“We’ll get cold,” she told him.
“I don’t think so.”
He pulled open the curtains, then led her out of the shower. After spreading a towel on the counter, he lifted her onto it, parted her legs and pushed into her with one firm, demanding thrust.
She would have bet a lot of money that she was too content to even think about coming again for six or eight months. But the second he filled her, she felt tired muscles sit up and take notice. Then he kissed her and she found herself getting lost in the sensual dance of tongues and lips and need.
They were both wet and the bathroom was steamy and he hadn’t had a real shower yet, but none of that mattered. Not when he slipped his hand between them and found her still-swollen center. He rubbed it gently enough not to hurt, but just enough to make her surge toward him.
She went from exhausted to take-me-now in less than fifteen seconds. She wrapped her legs around his h*ps and rode him until she came again—this time holding in her scream until he groaned her name and they got lost together in their mutual release.
Julie lay on her bed, her eyes closed, her long, blond hair spread out on the pillow. Ryan Bennett twisted a strand around his index finger, enjoying the softness of her hair and the way it caught the light. Her breathing was slow and steady, as if she were about to fall sleep, but the slight smile tugging at the corners of her mouth told him she might have something else on her mind.
Something he would find very appealing.
He didn’t want to go. That surprised him nearly as much as anything. Normally he was a get-out-of-town-fast kind of guy, the morning after. He frequently avoided the problem by not staying at all. But he’d wanted to wake up in Julie’s bed and make love with her again. He’d wanted a lot of things.
“Julie,” he murmured.
She opened her eyes. Her irises were a blue with tiny flecks of green. She had freckles and a wicked smile, and she smelled like vanilla and sex and temptation.
How could she be like that and be a scheming liar? Was this all a game to her? A twisted, win-at-any-cost game?
He’d pretended not to know about Ruth’s offer of a million dollars to see if she would mention it. She had, though, and in such a way that he wanted to believe it didn’t matter to her. But if she didn’t care about the money, why go on the date at all?
She reached up and stroked his face. “You’re far too good-looking,” she told him.
“That’s not a bad thing.”
“It could be. Handsome men don’t have to try so hard.”
“So you’d rather I was a troll?”
“I’d like to think you had to put a little effort into getting women into your bed. Instead, I have a feeling I’m simply one of the masses.”
“I didn’t get you into my bed,” he said as he leaned close. “I got you into your bed.”
“That’s a subtlety that does nothing to weaken my point.”
He rolled onto his side and supported his head with his hand. “Why do you get away with saying bad things about men, but if I were to make a crack about beautiful women, you’d accuse me of being misogynistic?”
“Because it would be true. We have centuries of inequity between the sexes to overcome. I think a little head start for the ladies is perfectly acceptable.”
“So speaks the lady.”
She raised her eyebrows. “We’ve already had the ‘do you want me to be a man’ conversation. Yet here we are, flirting with it again. Is there something you want to tell me?”
He rolled onto his back. “You’re driving me crazy.”
“It’s one of my best qualities. I’ve turned it into an art form.”
She laughed, then bent over him and brushed his mouth with hers. Her hair stroked his chest and it was all he could do not to reach out and touch her, take her, be inside of her.
Who was she, really? He’d come on the date because Todd was his cousin and he, Ryan, had been in the mood to exact a little revenge on money-hungry women, whomever they might be. He hadn’t cared about Julie; in fact, he’d been prepared to dislike her on sight.
But she’d won him over and somehow made him want to believe in her.
“Tell me about your family,” he said.
She raised her head. “Interesting change in topic.”
“I’m curious about your grandmother. How could you not know her all these years?”
Julie curled up next to him and put her head on his shoulder. Involuntarily, he reached for her hand and laced their fingers together.
“Ruth’s first husband died unexpectedly, while she was pregnant with my mom. Ruth remarried a few months after the birth to Fraser Jamison, your great-uncle. Naomi, my mom, looked on him as her father. When she was seventeen, she met Jack Nelson, my dad, and fell madly in love with him. He didn’t come from money—in fact he was a bit of a loser, but charming and she couldn’t help herself. She ran off and married him, and Ruth and Fraser turned their backs on her.”
The story matched what Ryan had been told, although his uncle Fraser hadn’t been that generous in the telling. He’d painted Naomi as an ungrateful slut who’d defied him at every turn and her husband as a money-grabbing bastard who’d been out for what he could get.
“My mom was pregnant, of course. I was born six months after the wedding. My two sisters followed very quickly. Mom got a job, Dad tried, but he wasn’t the type to enjoy real work. Although he always had a scam going. Some of them even paid off. He took off for the first time when I was about eight. He’d be gone for months at a time, then show up. He’d bring us gifts and her money, then he’d leave again.”
There was anger in her voice, and maybe a little pain. Was either emotion real? “That must have been hard for you,” he said.
She sighed. “I wanted her to divorce him and move on, but she wouldn’t. She said he was the love of her life. I thought he was a jerk who couldn’t stand to take responsibility for his family. But that’s a fascinating discussion for another time. Years passed, we all grew up. Then about three months ago, Ruth appeared on our doorstep. She said that she’d been wanting to reconcile with her daughter for a long time, but Fraser had stood in the way. With him gone, she was free to do as she wanted and have her family back. So now we have a grandmother.”