Marry Me...Again. Cheryl St.John

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      “It’s okay. I kind of like it.” He smiled and she placed her finger on the dimple his grin created. “I like that, too.”

      “I could shave if you have a razor.”

      “No.”

      He cocked a brow.

      “I mean, I have a razor,” she explained, “but I don’t want you to shave now.”

      “But I want to kiss you.”

      “I want you to kiss me. I just don’t want to wait.” She blushed at her impetuousness—her impatience.

      Obliging, Dev ran a finger down the front of her pale-yellow robe and spread the fabric to the side until one breast was exposed. Her nipple puckered shamelessly, but she didn’t mind him looking at her. He lowered his face to the swell of her breast and pressed a kiss there. “Not too rough?”

      “No-o.” Had she managed to say that out loud? “No,” she reiterated, in case the word had only been in her head. Brynna made a conscious effort to think clearly and realized then that Dev had barely made it inside her front door before she’d succumbed to the sublime pleasures he offered. Hating to interrupt the attention he was giving her breast, but needing to move them to a more comfortable location, she took his hand and led him down the hallway to her bedroom.

      She stood just inside for a moment, seeing the room with his eyes. It was by no means a lover’s den. Her bedroom was functional and represented her busy life, with a desk and filing cabinet in one corner, a treadmill in the other. The light from the hallway was enough to illuminate her plain double bed with unimaginative plaid sheets and the comforter she hadn’t even bothered to pull up that morning. No one ever saw her bed.

      Devlin obviously couldn’t have cared less whether her bed was made. He released her hand, wrapped his strong arms around her and kissed her so thoroughly, she forgot to be embarrassed by the intense situation and her lack of finesse. He stroked her throat, touched her hair, and the fire was back.

      Minutes later, he was backing her toward her bed, edging the robe from her shoulders, and she gladly helped him in the task of peeling damp jeans down his hips and off into a heap on the floor. They fell back on her bed, their bodies touching flesh-to-flesh—his legs cool because of the rain-soaked denim he’d just removed.

      Dev stretched out over her, his weight a delicious mix of pleasure and torment. Holding him, touching him, was so much more emotionally and physically gratifying than anything she’d ever experienced…wanting him wasn’t enough…not nearly enough…yet wanting him was everything.

      Somehow, Brynna knew that this experience with this man was going to be something extraordinary. It was already enough to bring tears to her eyes.

      She kissed his neck…cupped his jaw and tasted his incredible thrill-inspiring mouth by gently sucking his lower lip, then seeking his tongue and deepening the contact, needing to become a part of him.

      This was crazy—crazy wonderful.

      Dev kissed her in return, his hand sliding across her shoulder to her breast. His mouth left hers to taste the nub he’d worked to a rigid point, and Brynna closed her eyes against the intensity of the sensations. She’d been ready and willing since sitting across from him at Joe’s—and she appreciated his efforts to prolong the inevitable—but she really didn’t think she could wait any longer.

      When at last he slid his hand down her hip, across her belly and between her thighs, intuitively knowing just how and where to stroke, she bit her lower lip and held back a cry. He kissed her, as though he understood her frustration and shared her impatience. Without verbal communication, he knew to move away, grab the foil packages from his jeans on the floor and return for her assistance.

      Within seconds he was sheathed and pressing into her willing flesh. Stars burst behind Brynna’s eyelids as waves of pleasure washed over her, coursed through her and stole all breath and reason. He was incredible. This moment was perfect. She had only ever imagined anything this good.

      Devlin slowed his movements, kissed her tenderly…told her in a few clipped words how hot she made him…and in moments she discovered her imagination was a void where this man was concerned. He cupped her hips and angled her body so he could penetrate her swollen readiness more deeply, then gently, determinedly, eased her into another shattering climax, after which he found his own release and fell to her side.

      Dazed and lethargically replete, Brynna turned on her side to gaze at him. She laid her palm against his chest, where his heart slowed to an even rhythm beneath her touch, and studied his face in profile. He had closed his eyes. One hand lay limp on his belly. His skin glowed from exertion. What a mind-numbing experience that had been, Brynna thought, thinking how uncharacteristic it was of her to do something so—impulsive.

      Oddly, she didn’t care. Maybe she would later. Maybe tomorrow she’d be consumed with regret and shame. But not at this moment. Not feeling the way she did and not while looking at Devlin. A smile touched her lips.

      Could the experience possibly have been as incredible for him as it had been for her? Had it meant anything to him, or was she just another in a long line of one-night flings? The thought was like a shard of glass to her chest. She was nothing if not realistic and practical. Devlin Holmes would probably sleep for a few hours and then slip out of her apartment to disappear, except for an awkward moment every once in a while, where she ran into him at MonMart or the gas station. How would she feel?

      He rolled his head toward her then and opened his eyes to look at her with an expression she would have called awe if she weren’t down-to-earth and reasonable. He rolled toward her, raising the hand from his belly to her cheek. “Hey.”

      She gave him a half-embarrassed smile, wondering how she could assure him she didn’t expect him to stay for breakfast, or even to use the rest of those condoms.

      He looked into her eyes and said the last thing she would ever have expected. “Will you marry me, Brynna?”

      Chapter Three

      The Present

      Brynna arranged two china plates, silverware and napkins in silver rings, then placed a pair of candlesticks holding ivory tapers in the center of the dining room table and paused. Too obvious, much too obvious. This looked as though she was setting the scene for a seduction. Plucking the candlesticks from the table, she stood holding them…considering…rethinking…changing her mind yet again.

      She was setting the scene for something, after all—dinner! She and Dev shared a candlelight dinner a couple of times a month, whenever their schedules allowed, so why shouldn’t she set a romantic table?

      Replacing the candles, she laid a book of matches nearby and studied the setting again, turning the bouquet of freshly cut daisies for the best effect. Dev liked daisies. She hoped he had remembered their arrangement and would be here on time.

      She glanced at her watch, deliberately shoving concern away. More than once, he’d forgotten their planned evening and had been off flying somewhere while she waited. His forgetfulness had been a point of contention on more than one occasion.

      Marriage was still new to him, Brynna thought, justifying his underlying wanderlust as she always did. Eight months was barely enough time to get to know each other, let alone change a lifetime of habits. Before marrying her, he’d never had to be accountable СКАЧАТЬ