French Roast (21 page)

Chapter 28

T
he minute Jill walked out of the kitchen, Brian opened the freezer. He stuck his whole head inside, letting the arctic blast settle around him like fog. Damn, he needed a walk-in cooler right now. His head wasn’t the part of him that needed the frigid blast.

He had to get a grip. She was skittish. That was understandable, but Christ, how was he supposed to make her scream his name when he could barely walk around the kitchen without wincing? It was
harder
than last time, she’d said.

She had no idea.

He waited until his eyelids stopped twitching before stepping back. Take it slow. Make her relax. Hell, make him relax. At this point, he was starting to worry whether she’d get hot enough to come. Her nerves and fears were making her mouth pinch.

Tonight had to lay the foundation for the whole
can they make it
thing? He couldn’t remember ever feeling this much pressure over sex. Well, maybe a little. To please. To perform. But never before had his whole future been on the line.

He ladled the soup into the bowls and carried them to the table. The sausages looked good when he opened the oven, juices bubbling out the meat when he speared them with a fork.

When she came back in, he didn’t have the heart to tell her she had red splotches on her neck. He turned back to the sausages and decided they were like a bad joke. Why hadn’t he picked something that didn’t resemble a dick? Like pork tenderloin. Hell, even that had “loin” in it. Why hadn’t he realized how sexual meat was? Legs. Breasts. Loin. Throw in shank, and you had
Lady Chatterley’s Lover
.

She came up next to him. “Can I help?” Her gaze fastened on the sausages. The red spots intensified. “Do you want me to take…these…over to the table?”

Yeah, she was thinking the same thing. Hot juicy sausages. Freud said there were no accidents. His subconscious must have had a field day—he’d made enough for leftovers.

“Sure,” he managed, fighting the urge to clear his throat as he slid them onto a platter. “I served up the soup.”

Her hands gave a lurch, and the sausages slid a little. He reached for the platter to avert disaster. She gave a semi-hysterical laugh. “That would have been awful. Bunch of sausages rolling around on the floor.”

She set the platter down with unusual precision. He grabbed the bread board and knife and sat down across from her. As he poured the beer, Jill couldn’t seem to take her gaze off the sausages.

“Jill. Your beer,” he said when she didn’t take it.

“Right,” she murmured, eyes darting away like she’d gotten caught looking at something dirty. The red spots now resembled sunbursts.

“To us,” he toasted, lifting his glass.

She almost spilled her beer when she clinked his glass too hard. “The beer’s good,” she commented and then focused on the soup with an intensity that made him sure she was trying to avoid the hot, steaming sausages between them. The candles flickered in the awkward silence. He nudged the platter toward her, but refused to say,
you want one?
He had clearly won
Most Idiotic Entrée Choice of the Year
. It could be a new James Beard category.

She still avoided the sausages, grabbing a slice of bread like a Titanic passenger pouncing on a life preserver. Spent way more time than needed buttering it before taking a nibble. “Everything is so good.”

Everything was shit. He might as well put it out there. “So, the sausages were a bad choice.”

Her leaf green eyes flew to his. “Were you trying to give me some secret message?”

“Jesus,” he said, taking the platter off the table. “Not consciously.”

Her breath heaved out. “Good. I thought it was some sort of strange foodie foreplay.”

The idiocy of the whole situation had his laughter bubbling up and over. “Foodie foreplay? Oh God, that’s a good one.”

Jill gave a sputter. “Yeah, I mean, I’ve heard about dessert, oysters, all that, but then I saw those sausages. Couldn’t be any clearer. Although they did start to shrivel in their casing as they cooled. Did you notice?”

Brian kept laughing. “Jesus Christ. This is ridiculous. I couldn’t even ask if you wanted one. I was too embarrassed.”

When she joined him in the hysterics, he made his way back to the table.

“I felt like I was in seventh grade. Remember how we used to giggle every time Mrs. Kelly used to say ‘penis’ in biology?”

His shoulders shook. “It wasn’t the word so much as her lisp. Pee-nith. We almost wet ourselves. Pete used to ask the dumbest questions just to make her say it. Oh, God.”

“My stomach hurts from laughing this much,” Jill said, wiping her eyes. “At least the bread and soup don’t have any hidden messages.”

Brian put his finger to his mouth. “No, I’ve got nothing.”

“Me either. I could barely eat as it was.” A violent hiccup made her eyes bulge. “Oh, no. I’ve got the hiccum-ups.”

“The what?” Brian asked, heading for the sink.

“You better not be getting me a paper bag like…hic…Mrs. Barret used to make me use in fourth grade,” she warned. “Hic-cup.”

“You looked cute that way, Red.” Brian came back with a glass of water. “I don’t know why this is funny, but it is. First sausages. Now, hiccups. What’s next?”

Jill gave another explosive hiccup and grabbed the water. “Bed bugs?”

“Jesus, we’re a pair. So much for romance.”

After downing the rest of the water, she clutched her stomach. “Great, now I’m going to slosh around. Please let them be…hiccup.”

He pulled her onto his lap. “Let’s see if we can find a new cure.”

When pressed his mouth to hers, she sank into him. Twined her arms around his neck. Tugged on his hair. Murmured something throaty against his lips.

“I like this cure,” she commented when his lips cruised her neck. “Hic-cup. Shit.”

“Clearly, I need to work harder.”

He took her ear lobe between his teeth and tugged gently. A shuddered breath warmed his neck. “You know I always thought people were…hiccup…crazy when they said that was hot. The ear thing.”

The elegant line of her neck fascinated him, so he traced it with his tongue. “You did?”

Her fingers curled into his hair. “Yep. Do that again. Hiccup. God, I’m so embarrassed. Here you are trying to seduce me, and I’m squeaking out hiccups.” She gave another explosion.

Laughter rumbled through his chest. “Beats belching.”

“True,” she agreed, squirming in his lap.

His gaze took in the evidence of her arousal. The spots on her neck were fading. Her green eyes made the world seem brighter. “Maybe we were focusing on the wrong thing.” His mouth took hers in a quick kiss. “This is us, Jill. Laughing over stupid sausage innuendos, and you sitting on my lap with the hiccups.”

“But that’s so…buddy-buddy.”

The white skin of her jaw was too tempting. He ran kisses from one side to the next. “Is that bad?”

“No, it’s just not…the hot sizzle I think we need.”

Proving her wrong would be his pleasure. “Then let’s get the spoon. I’ll show you what’s between us.”

Vulnerability came through, stark and humbling, when she clutched his forearms. “Forget the props for now, Brian. Just show me.”

He lifted her into his arms and headed for the bedroom. “Fine, but the candles stay lit. I want to see your skin by candlelight.”

His mouth took hers again as they bumped along the hall corridor. When he reached her room, a pungent musk tickled his nose.

His whole body was ready. This woman. This scent. This lighting.

He wanted to devour her.

Nothing mattered to him more than Jill.

***

When he laid her on the bed, she fisted her hands around his neck to make sure he didn’t leave.

“So, where’s that lingerie?” he purred against her throat.

“In the bathroom,” she replied, hoping he wouldn’t ask her to go model it for him.

“I can hear your mind working,” Brian said, kissing her on the mouth. “Be right back.”

He darted off the bed, looking lithe and male in the soft light. Who said only women looked better by candlelight? Jill rolled to her side, waiting for him. Being flat on her back was way too weird when he wasn’t on top. He strolled back in with the green silk in his hands.

“I like this,” he commented, sliding back onto the bed. “So, how about I undress you, dress you with this, and then undress you again?”

“Way too complicated.” She reached for his pullover. “I can wear it later.”

He helped her take it off. “It won’t stay on long, Jill.”

His firm skin took all her attention. His muscles curved in well-defined ropes on his shoulders and arms. The pecs could have been carved in stone. She reached out a tentative hand to touch his chiseled abs.

“You’re acting like you’ve never seen my chest before.”

What did it matter if he sounded amused? “Perhaps it’s because I can actually focus on it without…” She stopped short. How much to tell?

He nudged her hands out of the way and drew her shirt off. “Keep talking.”

As his hands fingered her lacy pink bra, she shifted closer. “Well, when we were just friends, it was hard not to ogle you. And lately, I’ve been the one without the shirt on since you were trying to keep yourself under control. I haven’t really seen your chest like this.” She gestured to it.

“Do you like what you see?” he murmured, his thumb running along the lacy edges. “I know I do.”

She laid a palm on his pec, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under her fingers. Suddenly everything became real. Something new—and old—shifted inside her. She was here with Brian, the love of her life. A new serenity emerged. Memories of how it had been with him before added to the passion she felt now.

“I love you,” she murmured, needing to tell him now.

The fingers unhooking her bra stilled. His eyes flicked up to hers, allowing her to see inside him. The boy. The man. The human. The triumphs. The mistakes. The search.

Whatever else there was in the world, he was hers. And she would always be his.

He cupped her neck with one warm palm, held her eyes. “I love you too.”

Emotion rolled through her. This, she thought, this was how it was meant to be.

They moved with a new ease. Nerves faded and warmth grew into heat as their mouths met and urged them toward passion.

He tugged off her bra, and when his mouth took her breasts one at a time, she arched, seeking more, giving more.

How could she have doubted herself? An inner knowing emerged inside her. Her hands knew how to caress his skin. There was no hesitation when she reached for his jeans. No embarrassment when he pressed her hand to him, jerking his hips once. His groan was symphonic to her ear. The zipper hissed its way down in the quiet room. Helping him out of the denim until he was naked made her grateful to be alive.

It seemed the most natural thing to touch him, stroke him, while his eyes watched her.

“I want to see all of you,” he finally murmured, reaching for her skirt.

When they were both naked, he trailed his hands down her chest to her center, then angled down her thighs to her knees. “God,” he uttered. “Look at those legs. I’ve been wondering about this forever. I didn’t have the time to really look last time. Didn’t I say you were beautiful?”

Her stomach seemed designed for his kisses. But he didn’t stop there. The tops of her thighs seemed to summon him. Then the line where leg met hip. The kisses moved back up her torso to her breasts, and he continued his path until he found her mouth. She opened to him, letting their tongues tangle as he smoothed his hand over her leg, lifting it to him. Pressing belly to belly was a new sensation. She contracted, ready to spring ahead for whatever was next.

Something silky slid over her breasts. When he broke contact, she saw the green negligee in his hands.

“See how beautiful it looks against your skin. Put it on for me, Jill.”

The fabric’s silky slide down her body made her shiver in delight. Brian played with the fabric’s edge at the tops of her thighs and then parted her legs.

“Open for me. I need to touch you.”

His harsh, nearly hoarse voice made her remember how his touch had felt last time. Heat suffused her, and the gentle passes he made at her core had her back arching. Then he increased the pressure, rubbing in quick strokes before easing back to lighter caresses. Her nipples tightened, and she stretched back against the pillows, wanting more. Gave a throaty moan before opening wider to him.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered and parted her with his fingers.

A finger eased inside, rubbing, circling, making the heat peak. Her hips moved once, then twice as he deepened the touch. Inside. Outside. All forcing her toward something stronger and more powerful. Something she couldn’t resist.

The satin hiked higher up her thighs. She opened her eyes to see his hand easing it up over her stomach. His feverish eyes met hers. He deepened his caress inside her and pressed his warm, open mouth to her belly.

Sensation took over as her eyes lids shut, her hips lifting. Need rose from her throat in one long, low moan.

“That’s it,” he whispered, raising the green silk above her breasts, taking one in his mouth. The pull on her breast. The beat of her blood. The caress between her legs. It was all too much. Everything seemed to contract and then spring forth. The climax hit her in one strong burst. She pulsed against his hand as he heightened her pleasure, murmuring against her skin.

She licked her lips, panting. Felt his hands leave her. Shift the green silk over her head with gentle care.

“God, you take my breath away.”

The guttural note in his voice made her crack her eyes open. He shifted. A synthetic package ripped, which she realized was a condom.

“I need you, Jill.”

She opened her arms. He settled against her body, took her mouth in a deep, dark kiss. Passion spiked again. His hands settled under her butt, lifting her. He penetrated her slowly.

Her head writhed back and forth on the pillow as her lids fell. His size, his heat, the movement. So slow. So deliberate. Everything fired her up again. When he sank to the hilt, she opened her eyes. Knew he was looking at her. At them. Joined.