Lost and Found Husband. Sheri WhiteFeather
that she understood his uncommitted position. He rarely acted on impulse and this wasn’t the time to start. Nor could he bear to take advantage of her.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, as they stood in her living room.
“I’m certain. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have invited you to stay with me.”
“What if we don’t go on another date again?”
“You already said that you couldn’t promise anything other than one night.”
“How would you feel afterward if I stopped coming to the diner?”
She flinched a little. “Why would you do that?”
“Because it might interfere with our lives. And if it does, then I might not come back.” He was giving himself an out, but he knew that he needed one. “If I keep coming to the diner, we might be tempted to do this again. And I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
“Stop worrying, Eric. I can handle this, however it turns out. I get that you don’t want to enter into a relationship. But honestly, you can still eat at the diner.” She sent him a teasing smile. “I won’t serve you a side of sex with your meat loaf.”
He couldn’t help but laugh. She was a silly delight. “Can you imagine if that was on the menu?”
“It’s on the menu tonight.” Like the seductress she was, she dropped her shawl and removed her dress, giving him a sample of what he’d just ordered.
Heat. Hunger. A sensual agreement. She’d just assured him that she could handle a one-night affair, and he could no longer resist her charms, making him crazy hot.
She was crazy beautiful. He couldn’t wait to touch her. She tossed the dress on the sofa and it landed in a pool of fabric dahlias.
She stood before him in her panties and bra and high heels. The longing to caress her, to feel the silk and softness of a woman engulfed him even more. He could barely breathe. She looked as if she were holding her breath, too.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
He nodded. He was more than ready. He wanted to drag her into his arms and sweep her into bed. Only it was her bedroom. Her house. Her rules.
She came forward and kissed him, much too softly. It was all he could do to stop from going caveman. The years he’d been celibate felt like a lifetime.
“Let’s go,” she whispered, and took him to her room.
It was a girlish mess, with clothes all over the floor. Her sheets were rumpled, too. He’d never seen such pretty chaos. Amid the clutter was more of her gypsy styling, with embroidered pillows and lacy doodads.
She shrugged, smiled. “I wasn’t expecting company in here. But I hardly ever make my bed, anyway.” She gestured to the clothes on the floor. “Those are from last night, when I was figuring out what to wear for our date.”
“And now here we are.” Only minutes from being naked together. He took off his jacket and draped it over a chair.
“I’ll get the protection so it’s handy when we need it.” She kicked off her shoes, crawled onto the bed and dug around in her nightstand drawer, leaning over with her rump in the air.
He doubted that her provocative pose was deliberate. She just seemed focused on her task. And damned cute while doing it.
“Shoot,” she said. “I can’t find them.”
Just as Eric was thinking that he’d better dash out to buy some, she turned around. “Maybe they’re in the bathroom. Give me a sec.”
Off she went to continue the search. He was still preparing to go to the store, if need be. She was cute, but she wasn’t very organized.
She reappeared with a grin. She’d found them. In fact, she held them up like a trophy. He’d never been so glad to see a box of rubbers.
He got rid of his shoes and joined her in bed, anxious to get his hands on her. She was anxious, too. She started undressing him, tugging at his clothes with feminine fury.
Once they were both bare and pressed together, he buried his face against her neck and breathed her in. Sweet heaven. Was it his imagination or did she smell like his favorite dessert?
“Am I crazy?” he asked.
“What?”
“I could swear you smell like cherry pie.”
She smiled, her lipstick lustfully smeared. “It’s cherry blossom perfume. I wore it just for you.”
“I didn’t notice it until now.” But damn, he was glad that she’d sprayed it on her skin. “If I had some ice cream, I’d gobble you up a la mode.”
She put her hand between his thighs. “If you had some ice cream, I’d let you.”
He felt as if he was going to explode. Had he ever been this aroused? They rolled over the bed, tangling the bedding more than it already was. They did thrilling things to each other, too.
Hot, wild foreplay.
He grabbed for the condoms, tore into one and put it on. Dana arched beneath him, eager and willing. He saw the fire in her eyes, so blue, so blazing, so enticing.
Fast and furious, they made hammering love. He couldn’t slow down if he tried. But she obviously didn’t want him to. She matched him, stroke for heart-thundering stroke.
They reached the peak together, or that was how it seemed. He couldn’t be sure. He was too blinded by his own hunger to gauge her orgasm.
By the time it was completely over and they separated, they were beaded with sweat and staring up at the ceiling, their fingertips still touching.
“Wow,” she said.
“Double wow.” He turned to look at her. “That was fun.”
“Just as it was supposed to be.” She planted a soft little kiss on his shoulder.
Now that it had ended, her affection made him uncomfortable. But most women got cozy afterward, he supposed, so why would she be the exception? He told himself that it didn’t mean anything.
Eric got up and used her bathroom to dispose of the protection. He returned to Dana, and her tousled blond hair made him smile. He’d run his hands through it during their foreplay. He’d messed it up but good.
“Will you stay the night?” she asked.
“Sure. Why not?” He got back into bed with her. His discomfort had lessened. Besides, she deserved to be cuddled. To leave her alone now would have been disrespectful.
She said, “I can’t wait to tell Candy how amazing my date with you was.”
“Candy?”
“My landlord.”
“You’re not going to tell her you slept with me, are you?”
“Of course I am. That’s a major part of how amazing it was.”
“Why are girls allowed to kiss and tell and boys aren’t?”
“Boys tell plenty.”
“I never have.”
“You’re one of the good ones.”
He didn’t consider himself good or bad. He simply was what he was. “I’m just private about things like that.”
“Candy is different from most girls. She hardly says anything about herself. She’s divorced and is having a tough time with it. But she hasn’t told me any of the details.”
“It takes time to get over someone.” He frowned. “I’ve heard that divorce can be as traumatic as what I went through. They say it’s like death, only without the body.”
“I’ve