Read The Harder They Fall Online
Authors: Trish Jensen
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Restaurateurs, #Businesswomen
Michael set down his own drink and took her trembling hands. “Leave it.”
“But I need to—”
“Kiss me.”
She forgot to be nervous. Her chin tipped up. “I’m not touching your lips. I happen to know where they’ve been tonight.”
“But—”
“And you still smell like a perfume factory.”
“But—”
“And I don’t think Wendy would approve of you being here.”
Michael slapped his hand over her mouth. “Lucky you. Now you get to hear my side of the story.” He pulled her stiff body against him. “We might as well be comfortable.”
“
Mmmmmpht.
”
“My thoughts exactly.” He grinned down at her. “Now, here’s the deal. I took Wendy home. She insisted that I walk her to her apartment in case her ogre of an ex-boyfriend was waiting for her.”
“
Mpphhhht?
”
He cautiously lifted his hand away. “What?”
“I said, and you bought that?”
“Well, no, not really. Unfortunately, my mother taught me it’s not polite to question a lady’s veracity.”
Darcy snorted, but she stayed silent, watching him warily.
“Anyway, when we got inside her apartment she—” he tugged at his collar “—sort of . . . well—”
“Attacked you?”
“Exactly!”
“Right.”
“It’s the truth!” he said, stung.
“Let me guess. You resisted her, right?”
“Right.”
“Right.”
“It’s the truth!” he said again.
“How did you get lipstick on your lips?”
“She staged a full-frontal attack, Darcy.”
“Poor baby.”
“If you remember correctly, I didn’t ask to take her home.”
Darcy had the grace to look slightly ashamed. “I . . . I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“You thought wrong. I minded a great deal.”
She searched his face. “No one’s ever turned Wendy down before.”
“What do you know? I’m a first.”
“You . . . didn’t kiss her?”
He shook his head. Holding up three fingers, he said, “Scout’s honor. She caught me when I wasn’t looking. I broke the kiss as fast as I possibly could.”
“Did you . . . enjoy it?”
“I would have enjoyed it a lot more if I was attracted to her.”
“Everyone’s attracted to Wendy.”
“Wrong again.” He picked up a lock of Darcy’s hair. “My tastes are running to blondes these days.”
Color bloomed on her cheeks. “Flirt.”
“Is it working?”
“Maybe.”
He tugged her closer to him, and Darcy wiggled, settling into the circle of his arms. “Thank God something finally has.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said quickly. Then, before she could probe further, he kissed her.
The taste of her made his blood thrum through his veins. Her lips felt so right under his, so soft and pliant. Michael thought he could spend the next decade kissing her. The idea appealed to him on every level. Especially the base, male level that came roaring to life when Darcy was near him.
Every nerve he possessed cried out for him to toss her down and tear the flannel nightshirt from her body, to stroke her and kiss her and lick her into awareness and beyond.
Breaking the kiss, he took a deep breath. He ran his tongue along the shell of her ear, as his fingers skimmed up her hips, to her waist. He hesitated there for a fraction of a moment, then gave in to his overwhelming desire to touch her breast.
She made a soft, gaspy sound, but she didn’t protest. Her fingers dug into his chest. Her breast felt full and lush and he was going to die if he didn’t get to suckle on it soon. “I want you, Darcy. Right here. Right now,” he growled into her ear.
“I think,” she whispered, “I’d like my first time to be on a traditional piece of furniture.”
He raised his head and stared down at her. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
Her lips were parted and moist, her breaths ragged. “Yes,” she said, her eyes half-hooded.
“You want me, too?”
“On one condition.”
“What’s that?” he asked, then held his breath, praying it wasn’t an impossible condition.
“Do you have protection?”
Michael jumped to his feet and fumbled with his wallet. “Thank God,” he mumbled when he spotted the two foil packets. If he had his way, he’d have a couple of cases of condoms delivered. But he’d start with two. He looked up. “Yes.”
She rose and smiled at him—a serene smile that made his bones quiver. He had the feeling she had no idea what she was in for. And suddenly he was as nervous and scared as a horny kid.
He wanted it to be good for her. Scratch that. He wanted it to be fantastic for her. “You’re sure?” he asked her, again, for the last time.
“Yes,” she said, making him one happy guy. One nervous, happy guy.
“Where’s your bedroom?”
Michael glanced around Darcy’s bedroom and grinned. Her comforter was peach and lime-green and sky-blue and pretty, with a frilly skirt gracing the bottom. Her furniture was blond oak. She had candles everywhere, all shapes and sizes, all colors and scents.
Her room looked and smelled like heaven. Like Darcy.
He turned back to her. She stood studying her painted toenails, her fingers alternately clutching and releasing the hem of her nightshirt. Every so often she swallowed. Hard.
“I like your room.”
She looked up. “You do?”
Nodding, he said, “It’s pretty and feminine, just like its owner.”
She didn’t answer him. Michael pulled her into his arms. That’s when he realized she was trembling.
He brushed her hair back over her shoulder and lifted her chin. “Darcy,” he whispered, “If you’re having second thoughts, tell me. I don’t want to rush this if you’re not ready.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“I feel so stupid,” she blurted. “I’m twenty-five years old and I have no idea what to do. I mean, I know the logistics, I know what’s supposed to go where, but I don’t have—”
“Shhh.” He dropped a kiss on her lips. “This first time, you just relax and let me do it all.”
“But that seems so selfish.”
“Of me, it probably is.” He smiled gently as she searched his eyes. “You have no idea how much I want to do it all with you. How many times I’ve fantasized about this.”
“A man’s never seen me naked before.”
“I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.”
“What if you don’t like how I look?”
His hands stroked her back soothingly. “I sincerely doubt we’ll run into that problem.”
“I’d die.”
Michael glanced around the room. That’s when he realized that although Darcy had dozens of candles, not one looked like it had ever been lit. Probably smart on her part. “Do you collect candles?”
She nodded.
“Is there some rule against lighting them?”
She shook her head. “I just didn’t . . . want to take any chances.”
Definitely smart on her part. “Do you mind if I light some?”
“No.”
“Where are your matches?”
“There’s a lighter in the table by the bed.”
Keeping his arm around her waist, he turned and opened the table drawer and pulled out a disposable lighter, pocketing it. Then he leaned over to close the door and flick off the light, blanketing them in soothing darkness.
He cradled the back of Darcy’s head, then lowered his mouth to hers. In the darkness, he missed the first time, kissing her jaw. But he worked his way up until their lips were moving together in an ageless, seductive rhythm.
He lifted his head. He could barely make out her features—only the light from the half-moon filtered through her gauzy window curtain. “I’m going to undress you, Darcy.”
“You are?”
“Yes. In the dark. Then I’m going to lay you down on the bed and light a few candles. You can tell me to stop any time
you like, when you start feeling uncomfortable with the illumination. Fair?”
“Fair.”
Michael had already figured out that it wouldn’t take much to get Darcy naked. By his count, she was only wearing two pieces of clothing. He took a deep breath, then slipped her nightshirt over her head. The scent of her skin reached him, filling him instantly with longing.
He forced himself not to toss her on the bed and cover her body with his. He forced himself not to even touch all of those parts of her he was dying to touch.
Kissing her, he eased her bikini panties over her hips. They dropped from his fingers, and Michael felt her step out of them. He kissed her again, cupping her face, trying to keep his mind from imagining what kind of goddess stood in front of him, naked and prepared to let him touch her.
He led her to the bed and laid her down. He could barely make out her silhouette, but it was enough to answer one question. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. Your body’s beautiful.”
“How can you tell?”
“I’ve got great night vision.”
“Oh!” She scrambled under the covers.
Michael stifled a smile. By the time he was finished with her, she’d be so proud of the effect the sight of her body had on him, she’d be dancing naked around the bedroom.
He hoped.
He reached for a candle on her nightstand. “Darcy, there are a couple of basic rules to lovemaking. Have you heard them?”
“No.”
“May I tell them to you?”
“Please.”
“Okay. Number one, the man and woman have to be perfectly honest with each other. Without honesty, the experience won’t be as wonderful as it could be.”
“Honest about what?”
He lit a second candle, carefully not looking at her. “Honest about what feels good and what doesn’t.”
“Oh.”
He lit a third candle. The scent of vanilla floated up to him. After setting down the candle on her dresser, he moved to her vanity. “When I touch you, I want you to tell me where it feels good, and how it feels.”
“Okay.”
“I’m going to kiss you, Darcy. And not just your mouth. I want you to tell me where you like me kissing you.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Darcy squirm a little under the sheet. He lit two more candles, then turned back to her. The candlelight bathed the room golden. Darcy’s hair was spread out on the pillow, and her green eyes glowed.
“I’m sure you know that the first time for a woman is sometimes a little painful.”
“Yes.”
“Well, I don’t pretend to have experience in easing that pain, but I’m going to give it my best shot, all right?”
“Yes.”
“Just promise me you’ll relax and tell me exactly what you like and don’t like.”