While She Was Sleeping... (15 page)

“Sawyer.” She stopped for a whimper of pleasure. “I’m ready. Please.”

She couldn’t wait, wanted him inside her before they were interrupted, before she stopped to think how much more she’d love him after they were joined this way…and before she got so turned on she started screaming her frustration.

“Yes.” He stood between her legs, wide shoulders, slender hips, solid and so male. One hand steadied her waist, the other guided the head of his penis. He paused as his breath released, then started a slow, strong slide inside her, setting nerve endings on fire.

What she thought would be most distasteful about having sex in a basement turned out to be the most arousing. She loved the hard, unforgiving surface under her, the occasional ache in her tailbone, the creak of the table, the wood and stain smells mingling with the heat they generated together. The sex felt rawer, more powerful, more urgent and animal, which turned her on out of her mind.

Or maybe it was just this man.

She brought her knees up high, loving the depth he could get in that position, loving even the flashes of pain when he moved deeper. She cried out, cried out again. His hand landed on her mouth, his thrusts increased speed. Alana blew out breath, felt the resulting dampness on the palm firmly denying her volume. The suppression, the mildest most innocent version of bondage possible turned her on even more. She grabbed his hips, urged him on. Just when she thought she’d explode with the desire to climax, his finger found her clitoris and within seconds the orgasm rocked her, filling her body with starburst sensations.

Instead of coming down, she was hit with a frenzy of fresh desire. He slowed to give her space to recover, but she shook her head, mumbled, “Keep going,” behind his fingers.

He took his hand away. “Am I hurting you?”

“No,” she panted. “Keep going. Keep going. Don’t stop.”

He groaned and increased his pace. She loved every sweaty, lustful minute.

Leaning back, she caressed her breast in a seductive circle with an open palm, watched his face responding, tightening, going blank as he withdrew into his own climax, then coming alive again as the peak tore through him.

Then his eyes met hers, he was breathing hard, face alight. She returned the smile tremulously, feeling dangerously vulnerable. All the more because of the new, deep emotions giving those feelings a solid foundation.

Please tell her he felt it, too…

“You okay?”

“More than.”

“Did you miss a bed?”

“I will never use one again.”

He chuckled. “They have their place. Come here.”

She put her suddenly shaky legs back down, wrapped her arms around him, laid her head on his warm chest, inhaling his scent, trying to capture the moment, a mental snapshot she could keep forever. He held her tightly, stroked her hair, kissed it gently. “Don’t move to Florida, Alana. Stay in Milwaukee with me.”

Alana stopped breathing. Panic erased her bliss. “My grandparents need me. Gran fell stepping off a curb or something. She could have broken her hip. I would never forgive myself if something happened to either of them and I wasn’t there to help.”

She stopped the second she realized she was babbling idiotically. What was with that?

“I know. I understand.” Sawyer kissed her, drew his thumb from the corner of her mouth across her cheek. “I’d beg for one more day together, but I have a feeling we could be together a hundred more days and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

Alana hid her face, nodding mutely in agreement, trying hard to calm herself, and trying harder not to hear Melanie shouting her told-you-so.

C
ANDLES
. S
AWYER FOUND
the cabinet he’d opened his first official morning here, when he’d shared Raisin Bran with Alana, and pulled out a box of candles, hoping Mel and Alana would excuse his thievery—no time to buy any. He added the candles to the insulated bag he’d prepared while he was cooking Alana’s breakfast, packed with dinner he’d take to his family’s summer house on Lake Wishkitba, where he planned to spend what could be his last night with Alana. It didn’t seem possible he could feel this deeply about someone and, having just found her, be preparing to say goodbye.

A glance at his watch told him he’d better hurry back to Milwaukee’s lakefront to meet her for picture-taking. Half an hour ago he’d left her in the basement, pretending to need the bathroom, but had made her promise she’d check out the new drawer of his bedside table, as if he were wildly proud of it and needed admiration.

Inside the nearly finished drawer had been the last invitation. To meet him at Bradford Beach, where she’d taken that one incredible winter dawn picture. He wanted to give her the chance to recreate the picture, to have another memory of the city to torment her in Florida. Then he’d get her to the lake house for dinner and in-bed sex with candles the way
she wanted, the way circumstances had prevented them from having yet. Alone. Uninterrupted.

He zipped the cooler closed. If anyone had told him even a week ago that he’d be planning to decorate a room to make it sweet and romantic for sex, he would have given whoever it was a manly sock in the jaw.

Alana had him. Any idea that she wasn’t his “type” had been firmly subjugated to the intensity of his feelings. Never before had he felt this…
much.

After the candelit sex he wanted to hold her all night, and when it was time for her to leave the next morning, not let her go.

He couldn’t keep her here. She felt she had a duty to her grandparents, which he understood and admired, even though he’d spent so long struggling to where he could finally understand that he also had a duty to himself. And he also suspected she was gun-shy about getting too involved too quickly, which, given her mother’s apparent behavior, he also understood. If that were the only thing keeping her from staying, he’d do whatever he could, playing fair or foul to change her mind.

But…

He would love the chance to convince her to stay. Another day. Another week. Even if, by then, he’d be so crazy about her it would hurt ten times more when she left.

The house phone rang. He hesitated. Calls for him would come to his cell. But Melanie wasn’t home, and the helpless grandparents could be calling again. He strode over to the wall phone, checked caller ID. Yes. Edwin P. Hawthorne, aka Grandad. “Hello?”

“Oh…. Who is this?” The voice was surprisingly firm and cheerful. For some reason he expected Alana’s grandmother to sound at death’s door.

“Sawyer Kern.” He wasn’t sure he should identify himself
as Melanie’s roommate in case she hadn’t told them a man was living with her.

“Of course, Sawyer dear, it’s nice to talk to you finally, Melanie’s been keeping you from me. This is her grandmother, Edith Hawthorne.”

“Nice to talk to you, too, Mrs. Hawthorne.”

“No, no. Just Edith.” She sounded younger than he expected, too.

“Edith. Is Cynthia gone yet?”

“Oh, yes. Just passed.” She sounded completely matter-of-fact.

“Must have been frightening staying through it.”

“I don’t know, I found it quite exciting. Nature’s power is truly awesome.” A deep voice rumbled in the background, Edith’s voice murmured a response. “Yes, tell the girls we’ve heard from the president of the association and our condo survived just fine. They shouldn’t worry, though I’m sure Alana has anyway.”

He chuckled. “Maybe a little.”

“Poor thing. She gets so worked up. Always has. How are the girls getting along?”

“Uh.” He had no idea how to tackle that one. “Okay.”

“Not good, huh. I’d hoped by now…Well, it may take a few more years, but they’ll end up best friends, you watch. They’re more similar than they realize.”

Interesting. He wanted to ask more, but wasn’t sure it was his place. “Alana’s looking forward to seeing you.”

“Ah. Yes.” She sounded distracted. “When is she coming now?”

“She’s planning to leave in the morning.”

“I see.” She passed along that information in a loud whisper. The rumbling in the background responded again. “Thanks for letting us know.”

Enthusiasm was missing from her tone. Sawyer’s hope perked up its eternal ears. “That’s not convenient?”

“Oh. It’s fine. We’ll adjust. She is so anxious to move down here…”

Sawyer walked to the window. “But?”

“Nothing, really. Edwin and I are a bit concerned about the timing.”

“Because of your injury?”

“My what?” She sounded so astounded he started questioning whether he was mixing this story up with someone else’s. Except Alana had mentioned it barely an hour ago.

“The leg you injured after your fall.”

“Oh, that.” She laughed dismissively. “I put a Band-Aid on the scrape, had bruises for a few days, that was it. I was back in my skates within a week.”

“Your…skates?”

A louder rumble in the background. Edith gasped. “Oh, I wasn’t supposed to tell. Rollerblades. Edwin and I have taken it up. We’re having a ball down here.”

Sawyer took two beats to be absolutely flabbergasted, then started grinning. “Do Alana and Melanie know how you hurt yourself?”

She cleared her throat uncomfortably; he grinned harder. “We…didn’t want them worrying, imagining accidents and so on. We wear helmets and all the padding. All the folks do down here. It’s very safe. I only fell because someone bumped into me while I was bent over fastening my skates. I’ll do that in a chair from now on.”

“Good idea.” He rubbed his forehead, pacing the room now, not sure how much was appropriate to ask, but his immediate future—and maybe his heart—depended on her answer, and he wanted that answer spelled out in plain English before he’d trust it to be true. “So…you aren’t relying on Alana to take care of you?”

She sighed. “Alana needs to be needed. Her mother, our daughter…well, maybe they’ve told you.”

“Some, yes.” He still didn’t have what he wanted, but that
was close enough to make him want to leap around like a complete fool. Alana wanted someone to need her? He was all over that. “You mentioned the timing of her visit being off.”

“Oh, yes. See, after the hurricane settles down, we’re planning to drive to Lake Wales to try our first time skydiving. But if she’s arriving soon, we’ll postpone it.”

“That would be a shame.” Shame—something he was completely without at the moment. “Can’t you go after she gets there?”

“Well, to be honest…” She laughed uneasily. “I’m not sure she’d let us. We’ve always wanted to do this. I suppose it’s on our bucket list, like it was on Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman’s in that movie, except we’re not ill, just not getting younger. After we moved down here, we were talking one day and said why not do it? You can talk things to death, but sometimes you have to get up and act.”

“I agree.” Skydiving! He was nearly as crazy about Alana’s grandmother as he was about Alana. “So if I’m getting this right, you’re afraid Alana moving to Florida will cramp your style.”

“Oh, no, no
no,
of course we’re dying to see her, we adore her and Melanie both, and it will be wonderful having Alana close by…”

“But?” Shameless. He’d even stopped feeling guilty for pushing her. At this point, he was a shark who’d smelled prey and would circle relentlessly until he got what he was after.

“Well, to be honest, we’ve gotten used to being independent. We’re finally having that delayed empty nest, you know, and…well, I feel terrible telling you all this. Edwin is sitting here shaking his head, scowling at me for rambling on. But then you’re practically part of the family.”

He hoped to be. Maybe. Someday. If everything worked out with Alana the way he felt it should. “I completely understand. I won’t say a word to either of your granddaughters about the
skydiving. That’s yours to tell. But I might be able to help you keep the nest empty, at least for a while longer.”

“Oh? Yes? What do you think we should do? Talk to her, I suppose.”

Sawyer laughed. His mood had turned around one hundred and eighty degrees. The gloves were off. He’d do whatever it took to keep Alana here in Milwaukee where she belonged. “Tell you what, Edith. Why don’t you and your husband leave all that up to me?”

“Y
OU DITCHED ME
again.”

Sawyer grinned. She was gorgeous, standing patiently waiting for him at the fairly crowded beach house. Even more gorgeous than she’d been so recently when he ‘ditched her again’ in his basement. She’d changed back into the red shorts that exposed her shapely legs—strong thighs, round calves, trim ankles—and the soft yellow top, which hugged her hourglass figure and made it difficult to remember he owed her a response.

“Hey, you know, I’m a love-’em-and-leave-’em kind of guy.”

“That right?” The tiniest anxiety in her voice.

“Actually, no.” He bent and kissed her soft mouth. “Leaving’s your job.”

“I know.” Her features saddened. He tried not to smirk. Alana didn’t know it yet, but she wasn’t leaving. Tonight’s mission was to get her promise to stay another day or two…or three. Buy him time to visit the foundation and put his hat in the ring for the director’s job—a formality, given his father’s influence and desire he take the position—and work out the rest of the details for supporting Debbie’s artist-studio building, see if she and her partners would agree to hire Alana to manage the building. A form of nepotism maybe, but she was well-qualified, having not only management experience but the artistic bent, as well. Until the property was renovated,
she could work with him at the foundation. Or relax and let him be her sugar daddy for a while, not that he thought she’d agree to that arrangement.

He was getting way ahead of himself, daydreaming of a future together. Nothing he’d ever done before with other girlfriends, especially not within days of their first meeting.

“I spoke to your grandmother.”

Her eyes lit—cautiously. “She’s okay?”

“More than okay. They’ve heard there was no damage to their condo. I left Melanie a note.”

Alana frowned. “She wasn’t home? She promised to stay home just in case.”

“Hey.” He kept his voice gentle. “You told me at lunch they were okay, remember? She probably thought it was safe to leave the house once Cynthia passed.”

“Okay. You’re right.” She closed her eyes, shaking her head. “I’m worrying too much. Again.”

“Don’t need to this time, I promise.” He pointed up the beach. “Want to take a walk?”

She nodded and fell into step with him. Sawyer opened his mouth and geared himself up for a big fat lie—he hoped the only one he’d ever tell her. “They also said the roads are bad. Trees down everywhere, debris on the highways. They told you not to come yet. It’s still dangerous. Give the cleanup crews a few days to get things done first.”

“A few days?” She frowned. “But I want to make sure—”

“They’re fine, Alana, I promise. Your grandmother sounded cheerful and happy, as if she enjoyed the whole thing.” He turned, brushed hair off her forehead the breeze was threatening to push into her eyes. “It’s me that really needs you.”

“Oh?” She tried to look suspicious, but a smile pushed at her lips. “What do
you
need me for?”

He held up fingers to count. “Cooking, cleaning, mending, picking up my dry cleaning, giving me on-demand blow—”

“I don’t
think
so, caveman.” She suppressed a giggle and took off walking.

“Okay. Not that.” He caught up to her and grabbed her hand, swung it gently between them. “But if you ask me, what’s between us is pretty special, Alana. Maybe you don’t agree…”

Her pause, all of two seconds long, seemed to go on forever. “I do.”

“So?” He had to tamp down his adrenaline or he really would start with the leaping for joy. “If they’re okay without you and I’m not…”

She pursed her lips, but at least didn’t reject him outright. “Did Gran say anything about her leg?”

“I mentioned it, and she acted as if the injury were so minor I was weird for asking.”

“That’s Gran. A total stoic.”

Hmm. He’d have to pound that one home a little harder. “She said she’s back doing, um, everything she was doing before.”

“It could happen again.” Alana bit her lip. “Did she say what caused the fall?”

“She was bending over fastening her…footwear, when someone bumped into her. She promised to do all her footwear-fastening seated from now on.”

“Oh, gosh, so her balance isn’t what it was. I’m really wor—”

“Alana.” He stopped walking. This had gone far enough.

“What?”

“Bend over.”

“What?”

He pretended innocence. “What, you haven’t had doggie sex in public in broad daylight before?”

She burst out laughing. “Geez. Listen to you.”

“Seriously, don’t knock it ’til you’ve—”

“Sawyer.”

He relented. “Pretend you’re tying your shoe. I promise I have a point.”

She rolled her eyes and bent over. It was all he could do not to grab on and experience heaven, but it
was
public and daylight and he
did
have a point. It took only a gentle push followed by a quick grab to keep her toppling onto the sand.

“Wow, your balance isn’t what it was, Alana. I’m really worried.”

She stood and glared at him, color high in her cheeks, eyes dancing. “Fine. You won.”

“Not until you say you’ll stay. Then I win.”

She exhaled, made a helpless gesture with her arms. He caught her in his arms and kissed her forehead, her cheeks. “Come on. Let me win.”

She pretended exasperation, but her full, sexy lips were trying very hard not to smile. “Okay. If they don’t need me yet. A few days only.”

“Thank you.” He let out a breath, pointed to a seagull perched on a beach towel, and when she turned to look, allowed himself a silent, high-fisted
yes-s-s
behind her back before he started them walking again to the north, where the beach curved and the best view of the city would rise behind them. “You have my camera?”