A Taste of Pleasure (23 page)

“You're kidding, right?” he said.

“No, of course not.”

“A toast,” he said, changing the subject, “to your antique shop and new adventures.”

“And blizzards,” she replied as she snuggled in next to him,
pulling the blanket down over her lap. She took his cup and hers, setting them on the side table. She turned back, cupping his face in her hands as she kissed him hard on the lips. He grabbed her forcibly and kissed her back. They played with each other's tongues; then she sat on his lap, kissing his face and neck. He tasted so good, and felt even better.

He touched her arms, his rough fingers on her tender skin making chills run up and down her spine. He cupped her face with his strong hands and kissed her again and again. He took his hands and went under her sweater to undo her bra. She slipped her sweater over her head and dropped it to the floor. He put his hands under her breasts, cupping them. Her mind flashed back to the molding of dough as he continued to fondle and then sucked on her nipples, bringing her to such hotness she thought she might just pass out. She moaned as the wind howled and whipped harder at the windows. As another wicked storm brewed outside, worse than the last one they experienced together, a fury raged inside of her with a desire to be ravaged by this gorgeous, rugged man.

She was at his mercy, and he was grateful. He toyed with her and she could feel his hardness beneath her, throbbing to escape. She smiled as she moved sensually on top of him, riding him, moving her hips up and down and doing a lap dance on him. He reached inside of her skirt, touching her with such a fury that she became savagely aroused. She tugged at his hair and kissed his ear, his neck, his face, his mouth. She tugged at his lip with her teeth and that pushed him over the edge. He grabbed her and with swift motions, he removed his clothes and pulled up her skirt. He pulled her down onto the Persian rug in front of the fireplace. His bare body was as beautiful as she'd remembered. She had nearly forgotten his size and was delighted to see that his hardness was ready to
mount, but he toyed with her, delaying the pleasure and making her work for it.

They kissed and fondled each other. She was ravenous as she licked the end of his maleness, slowly opening her lips and sliding them over the end. She swirled her tongue over and over his prize as he slowly went into her mouth. It filled her as she sucked on it; he moaned with pleasure.

“God, London, that feels so good,” he said, his voice anxious and strained. He rolled her onto her back as she continued to play with him. He moved to the part of her body that needed attention so badly. He inserted three fingers deep inside her. She pleaded for more. He kissed her fervently as her mind checked out of this world. Nothing else mattered but the wonder of him and the feeling he was generating between her legs. She wanted him in the worst way. He kept himself away from her, his hardness taunting her, teasing her, holding her back from satisfaction. She was about to explode if he didn't give it to her soon.

He looked down at her smiling face and pulled her toward him, opened her legs, and touched her wetness with his tongue. She was uncontrollably stimulated. He sucked and licked on her while she squirmed, moving into positions that were sexually pleasing. She was panting and agonizing to feel him. When she couldn't take any more, he mounted her and slowly pushed his hardness deep inside her. She groaned as she felt him sliding deeper, inch by inch. She clenched his arms, gouging his skin with her nails. He went faster and faster until she screamed in ecstasy. “Oh, Max, now!” she shouted as she climaxed and he filled her with his juices. They fell into a pool of wetness, spent and exhausted. Her fantasy was now fulfilled as he pulled her over to him. They lay in each other's arms, completely relaxed.
What a wonderful night
, she thought as
she snuggled deep into his arms, tugging the blanket to the floor to cover them. They cuddled in the firelight, listening to the wind howl and the fireplace crackle. He touched her face gently and stroked her hair, admiring her beauty. He truly was an Adonis, and a gentle giant. As the fire died down, he got up without a word, scooped her up, and carried her to the bedroom. He wrapped his body around hers and covered them with more blankets as they drifted off to sleep.

All too soon, the night was over as she awoke sleeping in his arms. The storm had dumped nearly three feet of snow overnight and they were overwhelmed by the sights outside. A few tree branches had blown across the yard and the snowdrifts were more than four feet high, including the one outside her front door. The wind was still gusting as London brewed some coffee. Max built a fire and made some calls. She toasted English muffins and they chatted at the table as they ate. Max said that he called his crew but they wouldn't make it over to plow them out until tomorrow. The transportation department was scrambling to get the main roads cleared and wouldn't get to side roads until much later in the day.

They decided to make the best of a day off and reminisced about snow days as children. They watched TV by the blazing hot fire, took a steamy shower together, and made love all afternoon. The evening disappeared as they cooked, ate, and polished off a bottle of red wine, making for a wonderful day together.

The next morning, London heard the plow trucks. She jumped up to chat with them over the intercom. Max bundled up and headed out to shovel around the gates before London pushed the button to open them. Soon the driveway was noisy with plow trucks and snowblowers to the rescue. Max came back inside once they'd left, stomping off the snow at the
doorway, waiting to say good-bye. She came over, still in her silky black robe, and kissed him long and hard before releasing him. Leaving her side wasn't easy, but he had a few things to attend to at his office before heading over to the antique shop that afternoon. She missed him even before his truck was out of sight, but she knew she would see him again very soon as her exciting new adventure continued.

J
anuary blew by like the blustery winter wind but had been a blur of intimate bliss mixed with business for London. Research, ordering, and deliveries consumed her days. The renovations kept Max very busy too and allowed them time together daily. She had convinced herself not to overanalyze their relationship. She wanted to form a friendship first. She was just enjoying each day, savoring each moment. He seemed to value her hopes and dreams as he helped to make them come true.

Max and his crew had started by cleaning and preparing the basement so that she would have proper storage for the vast inventory that was being shipped in. They had also roughed in the loft upstairs and quickly installed the royal parquet flooring. The work was coming along nicely and she was able to begin furnishing the shop. She was excited to finish the apartment, which she was decorating partially like Queen Marie Antoinette's bedchambers as she persisted in re-creating the inspirational dream she'd had.

She was in no hurry to rent out the loft yet, as it gave her a
cozy place of solace to retreat to, somewhere she could organize her thoughts while the dusty, noisy remodeling continued on the first-floor partitions. She loved the view of Tarrytown from the window where she had set up a small but dignified desk that resembled the
bureau du roi
, Louis XV's rolltop secretary. From her seat at the window, she could see the delivery trucks rolling in alongside the building each day, loaded down with her treasures. She bounded down the stairs like an animated child to meet the deliverymen every afternoon, and the construction crew gladly assisted with moving the furniture to the basement.

She had found just the right table and chairs for the dining room—an eighteenth-century oak buffet parquetry table with eight white straight-back chairs. There were bamboo-armed chairs for the ends of the table. She also found a jam cupboard, an early twentieth-century beechwood bergère, a Louis XV–style cane bench, and a signed bamboo armoire of Napoleon III. Her search continued for a Parisian bookcase and Persian rugs.

She was delighted with a canopy bed she'd located for the loft. It was the perfect shape, and she planned to have it adorned in gold and painted with pink roses and greenery. She'd ordered the ideal curtains to drape over the canopy, while Jon had introduced her to a talented artist, Christopher, who was confident that he could mimic the regal and elaborate walls of Queen Marie Antoinette's bedchamber.

The surroundings were transforming into her vision; images in her mind came to life all around. She would walk into the shop to find Max and his crew working away. He looked hot in his tool belt and construction gear, perspiring slightly, hammering away as his muscles flexed, the master of every situation he oversaw for the project and his staff. He
was so intuitive; she felt he could almost read her mind as he re-created in the physical her mental pictures of the palace. His ruggedness was really beginning to grow on her, and she enjoyed getting to know him better as he thrived within his element. She found him irresistible. She would saunter up the stairs, shooting him a seductive look, then send him a text message that she needed to meet with him. He would sneak away to join her in the loft and together they had succeeded in breaking in the new bed.

Valentine's Day would soon be here, but it fell on a weeknight. Max had suggested that they celebrate throughout the weekend and enjoy a romantic dinner together on Saturday night. She was relieved to have so many distractions to prevent Deacon from coming to mind too often, especially around Valentine's Day, which always made her think of him. Her new true love was her store, and Max was a great companion in the adventure.

She awoke at the château and decided to take a break from the shop to unwind for their weekend together. Max would be out all day bidding new jobs for the springtime as his crew continued at her store. She got up, put on some music, and took a long, simmering bath to soothe her achy body and her mind, which had been working overtime. The morning was dreary and overcast. She already had candles blazing, flickering on the cream walls and marble pillars surrounding the sunken tub. Romantic music and perfumed bath oil permeated the air as she sipped on a mimosa and floated amid the bubbles.

She closed her eyes in a feeble attempt to stop the thoughts of Deacon as they drifted in. The pain he brought still lingered, as did her love for him. She fought back tears as she downed her mimosa and refilled the flute from the champagne bottle she'd placed beside the tub. She shook him off with thoughts
of Max. She began scheming of how to surprise him on Valentine's Day. Since they were already going out on Saturday, she planned to cook dinner at home on Tuesday night and come up with an interesting surprise for his dessert. She emerged from the tub and toweled off as she watched herself in the mirror. She decided to crawl back into bed, feeling peaceful in the tranquility of the room, and she drifted back to sleep.

A lover appeared in her dreams, but his identity was hazy. He took her from behind, kissing her neck as she felt her body go completely limp. He made love to her with his hands, his mouth, and then his body. He brought her emotions to their highest point and left her passions wild. He penetrated her deeply while her mind searched for something to hang on to, but there was nothing. Just puffs of smoke on a cold winter's day. Her fantasy disappeared with the sunlight.

She awoke again in the late morning hour to a wet bed. She reached for her toys in the nightstand and brought herself to climax.

She heard the intercom. There was a delivery at the gate. She jumped from her bed, somewhat startled as she threw on her robe and raced down the stairs.

“Flower delivery for Ms. Shelby,” the man stated.

She pushed the button to allow access to the circle drive as she grabbed her purse. She pulled her robe tie tightly as she humbly greeted him at the door, digging for a few dollars to tip him. He took the gratuity and smiled as he handed her the vase bursting with a bouquet of two dozen red roses. A heart-shaped card dangled down the side by a red ribbon. She shut the door behind him and closed the gates as he exited. She placed the flowers on the table and flipped the card around, which simply read,
THINKING OF YOU
,
LOVE
,
MAX
.

He had personally signed the card, which meant he took
the time to personally stop in at the flower shop and make the arrangements. She fondled the tiny card, tracing the contours with her finger, pondering for a moment about the shape of a valentine heart. She smiled as she thought,
Love isn't perfect, because if it was, this would just be a circle. But like a heart shape, love has its high points and its lows.
Max's sensitivity softened her heart. She called his cell phone to thank him, but she got his voicemail. She knew he was busy meeting with potential clients, so she left him a sexy message.

She got dressed, freshened up, and headed out to the store for groceries. Back at home, she put away her purchases, lit a fire, and curled up with a good book. She had to restrain herself from logging on to the laptop in search of more antique treasures. She could lose herself all day on there and she really needed to take a break. Max called to let her know he was on his way back to the area, but he had a long drive ahead of him. He had bid on several potential jobs that would be enough to keep him busy all year if the contracts were awarded to his firm.

She invited him to join her, saying that she had picked up an assortment of brochettes from the butcher to grill for a quick and easy dinner. He was starving and couldn't wait to see her. She put the skewers into a tangy marinade with lots of spices, then slipped into some silky pajamas and lounged on the sofa to watch TV as she waited for him.

When he finally arrived at the château, she realized how much she'd missed him. Even though he was usually working at the store while she was preoccupied with orders and research, they were always together and it felt strange to have been apart.