The Single Dad's Second Chance (10 page)

“Oh.” It was all too easy to imagine how Maura had responded to that news. “She must be so disappointed.”

“She was. And then my mom called, and when she heard about the change in Maura’s plans, she invited her to spend the night at Grandma and Grandpa’s house. In fact, I just dropped her off there and took a chance that I might catch you here.”

“And you did.”

“And are you going to let me talk you into coming back to my place for that steak dinner?”

“Your place...where no one else is home?”

“No one,” he confirmed.

She knew what he was asking, and that dinner was only the first part of it.

“What do you think?”

“I think there’s no one home at my place, either,” she told him. “And it’s a lot closer than yours.”

* * *

As she punched the button for the seventh floor, Rachel felt her stomach twist into knots. She’d been thinking about this moment for weeks, wanting this moment, wanting him. But now that it was imminent, she was inexplicably nervous.

Then, as the elevator began its ascent, Andrew reached for her hand and linked their fingers together. And somehow that simple contact settled her.

Because this was Andrew—a man she knew and trusted. A man who read to his daughter every night before bed and had dinner with his own parents every other Sunday. A man who called her half an hour after kissing her goodbye just because he wanted to hear her voice. A man who turned her inside out with his kisses, who knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her and still understood that this was a huge deal for her.

She unlocked the door and stepped inside, setting her book down on the coffee table and her keys on top of it.

Should she lead him down the hall straight to her bedroom? Or should she offer him a drink first? Or maybe—

He tipped her chin up and brushed his lips lightly over hers. “Second thoughts?”

She shook her head because she had no doubts about what she wanted, even if her stomach was tangled up with knots and nerves.

“This is a big step for me, too,” he told her.

“Really?”

He nodded. “I haven’t been with anyone since...” He trailed off, offered her a shrug and a crooked smile. “Since.”

She realized the he didn’t want to speak his wife’s name and risk her coming between them. She appreciated his consideration, and she was just a little intimidated by the implication.

If he hadn’t been with anyone since Nina had died, more than three years earlier, that certainly trumped her now seventeen months of celibacy. And the fact that he was willing to take this step with her proved that she meant something to him.

“Now I’m even more nervous,” she admitted.

“We can take it as slow as you want,” he promised.

“What I want right now is for you to kiss me.”

He immediately complied with her request.

The kiss started out gentle, reassuring, and the knots in her belly began to loosen. When she was in his arms, it was as if the rest of the world faded away so that there was only the two of them, and she only wanted him to go on kissing her forever. She was certain if he did, she wouldn’t ever want or need anything else.

But eventually the tenor of the kiss changed, desire turned to need. Hot, achy and desperate. His arms tightened around her, so that she was pressed against him, from shoulder to thigh and all the erogenous zones in between. Suddenly she wasn’t feeling nervous anymore—just needy.

She tore her mouth from his. “I think we should save
slow
for later,” she said, taking his hand to lead him to her bedroom.

She turned on the lamp beside the bed, so that soft light pushed away the darkness. He should have looked out of place in her distinctly feminine room with its empire rosette sleigh bed piled with decorative pillows and the elegant lines of the Queen Anne dressers and lacy window coverings. Instead, the feminine trappings only seemed to enhance his masculinity.

She had a moment to wish that she’d thought to set candles around the room, just in case. But she hadn’t planned for this to happen. Certainly not this soon. Maybe she should turn on some music...or get the wine...

Slowly he turned her around, so that she was in his arms again. And the way he was looking at her, she realized none of that mattered. All that mattered was what was between them, the attraction that had drawn them inexorably closer over the past several weeks, leading toward this moment.

She started to unfasten the top button of her shirt, but he covered her hands with his own. “I want to do that.”

His voice was husky and filled with promise.

“Okay.” She let her hands drop back to her side.

His eyes, dark and intense, held hers as he worked the buttons free. His fingers fumbled a little and, surprisingly, that evidence of his nerves helped settle her own. As the front of her shirt opened, the backs of his knuckles brushed against her skin, making her shiver, making her yearn.

At first she welcomed the cool rush of air on her heated flesh, until she realized that her skin being exposed meant that he could see her exposed skin.

She immediately pushed his hands away and tried to cover herself again. “Wait.”

Chapter Ten

W
ait?

Andrew blew out an unsteady breath and curled his fingers in his palms to stop himself from reaching for her again. “Why are we waiting?”

It was hard to tell in the dim light, but Rachel’s cheeks seemed to flush. “I need to change.”

He lifted a brow. “Change...your clothes?”

She nodded.

“Why?” he asked, sincerely baffled.

“Because I bought new lingerie,” she finally admitted.

“So you’re not putting on the brakes? You haven’t changed your mind about this...you just want to put on different underwear?”

The color in her cheeks deepened. “It sounds ridiculous when you say it like that, but yes.”

It was ridiculous, but he didn’t figure saying so would result in her getting naked any quicker. It was also flattering, that she’d bought something special in anticipation of this event. But after his extended period of celibacy, the prospect of seeing her naked was far more arousing than anything she might put on her body. “Don’t you realize that it doesn’t matter what you’re wearing because my end goal is to take it off you?”

“But I want to look sexy when you’re taking it off me.”

He stroked her hair away from her face. “You are sexy. So incredibly and undeniably sexy. And while I’m flattered that you bought new lingerie in anticipation of showing it to me, I’m much more interested in your naked body than anything made of satin or lace that would only cover it up.”

“Maybe it was leather with buckles and chains.”

His brows lifted. “Was it?”

“No,” she admitted.

“Okay, then,” he said, and pried her fingers from the blouse that she was clutching in front of her like a shield.

He slid the garment down her arms and let it fall to the floor. The bra she wore was white, but it wasn’t boring. He knew enough about women’s lingerie to recognize it as a demi-cup bra, and he appreciated the contrast of the snowy satin against her creamy flesh. Even more, he appreciated that the center clasp hidden beneath a tiny bow was easily released.

He dropped the bra on top of her already-discarded blouse and focused his attention on the mouthwatering sight of her naked breasts. More than three years without physical intimacy seemed to have given him a whole new appreciation for the uniqueness of the female body. Or maybe it was the uniqueness of Rachel’s body that so completely captivated him.

He’d been married for five years, but even prior to that, he’d never been with anyone but Nina. So while he might have plenty of experience with sex, that experience had all been with the same woman. Being with someone different—with Rachel—was like the first time all over again. His heart was pounding and everything inside of him was shaking with excitement and anticipation and terror. He wanted her so desperately that he couldn’t help worrying he would forget patience and finesse, that he might do something wrong and screw everything up.

His gaze skimmed over her, assessing, admiring. “Incredibly and undeniably sexy,” he said again.

The way he looked at her—the unrestrained desire she could see in his eyes—made Rachel feel sexy. And when he lifted his hands to her breasts, cupping their weight in his palms, as if they were unique and precious, she knew he saw her that way.

But he didn’t linger there. His hands skimmed down her sides to the waistband of her pants. It took him a minute to find the fastener and unhook it, then he lowered the zipper and pushed her pants over her hips, adding them to the growing pile of discarded clothing on the floor. Her panties and stockings soon followed.

Then he stepped back to look at her, and his voice was filled with reverence when he said, “Yes—that’s how I want you.”

“I want you naked, too,” she told him.

“Soon,” he promised. “First I want to touch every inch of you...with my hands...and my lips.”

His fingers skimmed over her skin as he spoke, leaving goose bumps along her flesh. She was hot and cold, and desperate for him.

Then he dipped his head to brush his lips along her collarbone, and she shivered.

He lifted his head. “Cold?”

She shook her head as he eased her back onto the bed.

“You are so beautiful.”

Right now, she was so turned on.

Her nipples were already peaked, begging for his attention, and he didn’t disappoint. He swirled his tongue around one turgid point, and she gasped in response to the wet heat of his mouth on her bare skin. Then he shifted to the other breast, drew the nipple into his mouth and suckled deeply.

She reached for him, tugging his shirt out of his pants, desperate to put her hands on him.

He kissed her again, slowly and deeply, as his hands skimmed over her, tracing every dip and curve of her body. Then his mouth followed the same path, his lips and tongue stroking and teasing.

“Andrew...please.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” he told her.

What he was doing was driving her insane.

“I thought we were saving
slow
for later,” she said.

“That was your idea, not mine.” He swirled his tongue around her navel, making the muscles in her belly quiver. “I’ve wanted you for too long to rush this.”

He nipped at her hip, kissed the inside of her thigh. “Although I should probably warn you, the actual act is probably going to be over sooner than I would like.”

She was on the edge, teetering on the brink. “Could you please stop apologizing in advance and just get on with it?”

“I want to make sure you’re ready.” And he parted the soft folds at her center, groaning in appreciation when he discovered that she was already wet.

“I’m more than ready.”

He licked the sensitive flesh, and she whimpered. He nibbled some more, tasting, teasing. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry, but Rachel was quickly growing impatient. She wanted him inside of her, moving with her toward the ultimate pinnacle of pleasure. She wanted...

Oh. Wow. Yes.

Fireworks of sensation shot through her body as his tongue delved into her, then flicked over the tight bud at her center, alternating quick licks with slow strokes, pushing her relentlessly toward the edge...closer...closer...and...over.

“I think you’re ready,” he finally decided, and she managed to choke out a laugh.

He quickly stripped away his clothes, almost tripping over his pants in his haste to get rid of them. She muffled her giggle. But when he faced her in his full naked glory, she didn’t feel like laughing at all. He fumbled a little in tearing open the condom packet, and his hands weren’t entirely steady as he sheathed himself, reminding her of what he’d said about it being a long time for him, too.

When he was finally ready, he levered himself over her on the bed and spread her legs wide. She lifted her hips off the mattress, desperate to have him inside of her. His arms were braced on the mattress, holding himself in position over her as tiny beads of perspiration formed on his brow, proof of his intense focus. She reached between their bodies and wrapped her fingers around the hard length of him, and his eyes closed on a heartfelt groan of appreciation as she guided him home.

Her own sound of pleasure echoed his as he eased into her, deep, deeper, and the sensation of his hard length buried inside of her was enough to start the fireworks again. She cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders as the orgasm ripped through her. He held himself perfectly still, his arms rigid and his jaw tight, and she knew he was fighting to control his own response as her muscles pulsed and contracted around him.

She wanted him to let go, to give himself up to the pleasure of their joining as she had. But he held on, and when the aftershocks finally faded, he began to move inside of her. Slow, deep strokes that seemed to touch her very core. And though she wouldn’t have thought it was possible, the pressure started to build yet again.

She dug her heels into the mattress, lifting her hips to meet him, thrust for thrust. Harder. Faster. Deeper.

She arched. Clenched. Released.

This time, when she flew, he went with her.

* * *

Three years was a long time to go without sex.

For the first year, Andrew hadn’t thought too much about it—the pain of losing his wife had made him oblivious to all else. Eventually, though, as his heart began to heal, those basic needs had stirred again. But none of the women he knew had piqued his interest enough to want to do anything about satisfying those needs.

Now, he was very definitely satisfied.

When he finally summoned the energy to lift himself off Rachel, he whacked his heel on the footboard. He’d never considered himself particularly graceful, but he’d never thought he was as clumsy as he’d been since walking into Rachel’s bedroom. He swore, mostly under his breath, as the pain radiated through his foot, and she chuckled softly.

“I bet you have a king-size bed, don’t you?”

“I do,” he admitted.

“Maybe we should have gone to your place.”

“Right now, I don’t want to be anywhere else but right where I am,” he said, wrapping his arm around her and snuggling her close to his body.

She smiled. “That sounds like a man who just got lucky.”

“Very, very lucky,” he told her, and meant it.

He’d missed the fragrant softness of a woman’s body. He’d missed the joy and challenge of exploring all of her dips and curves to discover what made her sigh, what made her gasp, what made her scream. He smiled, pleased that he’d already found a few of Rachel’s secret spots—and was looking forward to finding many more.

But first, he needed fuel. “Do you have enough of that leftover lasagna to share?”

“If I throw together a salad and add garlic bread.”

He opened the wine while she made the salad, and after they ate, they made love again.

He ducked into the bathroom to dispose of the condom. Two minutes later, he returned to her bedroom and just a glimpse of her naked body tangled in the sheets had his body stirring again.

He climbed back into the bed and kissed her softly.

She smiled at him. “Are you going to stay?”

“Were you planning on kicking me out?”

“No, but I do have the early shift tomorrow,” she warned.

“There’s still a lot of hours between now and tomorrow,” he said, stroking his hands over her sleek curves.

“I was hoping to spend at least some of those hours sleeping.”

“Later,” he promised, as he parted her thighs and slipped into the welcoming haven between them.

* * *

She fell asleep in his arms and woke up the same way.

His left arm was wrapped around her waist, and when she glanced down she could see the faint line around his third finger.

She didn’t begrudge the fact that he’d been married, or even that he’d obviously loved his wife. But that circle of pale skin made her wonder if she would ever come first for any man. Even if Andrew did love her, would he love her as much as he’d loved Nina? Would he—

Her breath caught in her throat when his hand shifted a little higher. His fingers toyed with her nipple, and he snuggled closer, making her aware of the fact that he was very definitely awake.

“Next to sex, I think this is what I missed most of all—waking up with a sexy woman in my arms,” he told her.

“I have bedhead and morning breath.”

“You’re perfect,” he said, and captured her mouth in a slow and very thorough kiss that proved he meant it.

“I have to go into work,” she reminded him.

“What time?”

“Seven.” She wriggled out of his embrace and reached for her robe.

He glanced at the clock. “Then we still have almost an hour.”

“I have to shower.”

“I can multitask,” he promised, scooping her into his arms and carrying her into the bathroom.

* * *

Rachel was feeling relaxed and happy when she unlocked the shop at 7:10 a.m. She was running a little bit behind schedule, which was completely out of character for her, and she didn’t even care. Not even the surly attitude of the deliveryman, who’d apparently been waiting those ten minutes, fazed her.

When Holly came in at ten o’clock, she took one look at her friend and said, “Are you on happy pills?”

“Nope.”

“Then you got lucky last night.”

“Very, very lucky,” she said, borrowing Andrew’s response, then grinned. “And again this morning.”

“I guess I don’t need to ask how it was.”

“It was...so much more than I expected.”

“Either your expectations were too low or he was really good.”

“Do you remember when you asked me if I could top five?”

Holly’s gaze narrowed suspiciously. “No way.”

Rachel nodded. “Seven,” she said proudly.

“Wow.”

“That’s what I said...when I finally regained the power of speech.”

“No wonder you’re grinning like a crazy person.”

“I feel good today,” Rachel admitted. “Happy.”

“I’m glad. Just...be careful.”

“Thanks, but I remember the safe-sex spiel from high school.”

“I’m not talking about protecting your body but your heart.”

“It was one night,” she reminded her friend.

“And you’re more than halfway in love with him already.”

“I am not.”

She enjoyed being with Andrew, but she wasn’t going to make the mistake of planning a future for them together when they’d only been dating a few weeks.

At least she hoped she wasn’t.

* * *

After work on Saturday, Rachel drove to Raleigh to pick up her nephews. Since this sleepover had been planned for several weeks, she didn’t expect to see Andrew or Maura that night. But just as the boys were debating pizza or pasta for dinner, Maura called.

She explained that they were having a movie marathon at her house—with both of the
Cars
movies—and since they weren’t girl movies, maybe Rachel and “her boys” could come over to watch. Trent immediately said yes, but Scott, who tended to be the shyer of the two, hesitated. He was more interested in pizza than a movie, so when Maura said that they were having pizza, too, he was persuaded.

“What are your plans for tomorrow?” Andrew asked, when the pizza was gone and the kids were settled down in front of the giant-screen TV in his media room.