No Regrets. Cindi Myers
weeks she’d been waiting for this. All those months in physical therapy when she’d worked so hard to get well, this was what she’d been working for, though she hadn’t even known it at the time. She’d been waiting for strong arms to reach around her, for warm lips to find hers, for hands to caress her, and for the rush of blood and heat that was like a shout within her. She was alive and whole again. All that struggle and pain had been worth it to get to this moment.
She stood on tiptoe, arms reaching around him, pressing her body close to his. She felt his arousal against her belly and a thrill of anticipation surged through her, followed by a tremor of nervousness. It had been a long time since she’d had sex with a man.
He slid his hands up to cradle her head, his fingers buried in her hair, turning her face more fully to his. His lips claimed hers in a drugging kiss that she felt all the way to her toes. Long-dormant sensations came back to her, reminding her that sex was not something to be learned over and over again, but a pleasure to be enjoyed and continually perfected.
He fumbled with the fastening of her dress, and she reached back to help him. “I should probably be more patient and take it slower,” he said. “But I’ve been imagining you naked so long I can’t wait anymore to see the real thing.”
She laughed and undid the button at the neck of the dress, letting the two halves of the top fall forward to hang at her waist. “I could say the same thing about you,” she said.
She reached for the waistband of his pants, but he stepped back. “I want to look at you,” he said. “All of you.”
Feeling only a little self-conscious, she reached back and lowered the zipper of the dress, then slid it down over her hips. Clad only in pink silk bikini panties, red scarf and red stilettos, she faced him.
The reverent look in his eyes was almost her undoing. The mixture of raw lust and unabashed need send a rush of wet heat to her sex. Her breasts felt heavy and aching beneath his gaze, and her nipples rose in points anticipating his touch.
When she thought she couldn’t bear another second apart from him, he moved toward her. She let out a sigh of relief, which turned to a moan when he moved past her, to the window. He checked the loft again, then drew the heavy inner drapes, closing them off from the world.
“What is she doing?” she asked.
“The lights are off in the dining room. She’s in the bedroom, on the bed.” He turned to her, his face pinched with some undecipherable emotion. “I think she’s crying.”
She felt a pang of sympathy for the lonely woman across the way, but had little time to dwell on this. With remarkable swiftness, Nick shed his clothes and moved toward her again, his erection stiff and proud, swaying with each stride.
Then he was gathering in his arms, maneuvering her toward the bed. When the back of her legs came in contact with the spread she let herself fall back.
Nick followed, and stretched out beside her, his hand on her stomach, preserving the connection. “You’re more gorgeous than I imagined.” He grinned. “But not naked enough.”
She watched, amused, as he slipped to the floor and knelt to unfasten her shoes. She started to make a joke about him bowing before her, but all words fled as he pulled off one high heel and drew her toe into his mouth.
She moaned at the sensation of his tongue, hot and wet against her toes, touching some primitive part of her. Was it possible to come from having one’s toes sucked?
From her toes, he moved to her ankles, up her calves, her knees, to her thighs, his tongue and lips finding sensitive nerves she hadn’t known existed. She felt hot everywhere he touched; little flames of sensation lit the length of her body.
He hooked his thumbs underneath the sides of her panties and drew them down. She raised her hips to help him and then she was naked.
She waited, tensed, anticipating his lips on her. She could hear him breathing hard, sense his gaze on her. When she raised her head to look, he was staring at her, a half smile on his lips.
Why had he stopped? “Is—is something wrong?” she asked.
“No. Nothing’s wrong. I’m just undressing you. Almost done.”
He reached for the scarf at her throat, but she caught his wrist and stopped him. She’d revealed enough tonight; she wasn’t ready for more. “Leave the scarf on,” she said.
He looked puzzled. “Why?”
“Just…leave it on.”
She waited for him to ask why, the heat of the moment already receding as she struggled to come up with a superficial explanation.
But he didn’t ask for one. He simply lowered his hand to her side and his mouth to her stomach, and began working his way up her body, one kiss at a time.
She fell back again, abandoning herself once more to sensation. It was as if her body were waking from the coma all over again, nerves she’d forgotten coming to life beneath his exploring lips and tongue.
When he reached her breasts, she could stay still no longer. She arched to him, hips thrusting, silently pleading for release from this incredible, exquisite tension. She felt him smile against her, then he sucked her nipple into his mouth and she gasped with pleasure.
Her pulse beat hard against her temple, and her vision clouded as he suckled and teased, first one breast, then the other. She put her arms around him, holding on as if to an anchor. Anything to keep her from flying off the bed and soaring to the ceiling. Or breaking into pieces. Any minute now she felt she could explode, nerves stretched beyond bearing.
“Niiiick.” His name was a low moan on her lips, both endearment and plea. She couldn’t wait anymore. She couldn’t.
He moved away from her momentarily and she lay still, eyes closed, breathing heavily. If she just had a moment to recover, she’d be ready to offer him as much pleasure as he was giving her. Just a moment…
His mouth closed around her sex, hot and wet and insistent. In that moment she shattered, light and heat rushing through her, a shout torn from her throat. Part of her really was up near the ceiling, separated from her physical body and flying on sheer pleasure. She’d forgotten how wonderful this felt. Or had it ever really felt this good before?
Nick held her as the aftermath of her climax shuddered through her, the awareness of his strong arms around her gradually bringing her back to earth. He was there when she opened her eyes, watching her with concern in his eyes. She grinned, and somehow found her voice. “Wow. If that was the opening act, I can’t wait to see the main attraction.”
“Coming right up.” He knelt between her legs, gently urging her thighs farther apart to accommodate him. “Pun intended.”
She laughed, giddy with happiness, aware that at any moment she might burst into giggles. Not very seductresslike but she couldn’t help herself. She imagined running down the halls, shouting I’m alive. I’m alive. And it’s wonderful!
“I can’t believe I was so stupid!”
His words, and the groan that followed pulled her back to the moment.
“What’s wrong?”
He made a face and looked at the bedside phone. “Do you think room service would send up a condom?”
4
THERE WAS A TIME when Nick would have considered protection just another tool in his cache of supplies, but he’d gotten out of the habit since his marriage. Perhaps he was pickier, but spontaneous seduction wasn’t part of his life these days.
“I have some in my purse,” Lexie said.
“Some?” He arched one eyebrow in his best man-about-town imitation. The idea of her deliberately setting out to seduce him was a huge turn-on. He was a man used to doing the pursuing. The chance to be on the receiving end for a change held a wicked fascination.