Worth Waiting For (5 page)

She reached a hand up and touched his cheek, his shadowy beard rough against her fingertips. She was so acutely aware of everything…like she’d suddenly come alive. She stroked his lean cheek, then trailed her fingers down over his chest, over the smooth, strong muscles, then lower to the ripple of his abs, feeling them quiver beneath her touch.

He was still wearing his black boxer briefs and they strained to contain him. Her eyes followed her fingers and she wanted to touch him there again, feel that hard, hot power. So she did, and he gasped at her touch, swelling into her hand.

She slipped her hand inside his briefs, needing to feel the velvety skin over marble hardness that she remembered so well. Her memories had been good, but over the years they’d dimmed somewhat, and the reality of him almost made her gasp with pleasure. She stroked him softly, then remembered that he liked to be held in a firmer grip. She grasped him and pulled, and he gave a long, low groan.

He pushed his underwear down over lean hips and she went onto her knees beside him to help drag them off over long, hair-roughened legs, taking her time and enjoying the sight and feel of his lean muscles. His feet were bare, long and sinewy.

Then she moved over him, straddling his legs, and reached for his cock, dark and long and thick. She clasped him in both hands, stroked him up and down, her palm gliding over the head, and his body jerked beneath her. She glanced at his face, eyes closed, jaw tight, and a feeling of incredible feminine power swept over her. She wanted to give him pleasure so badly she ached with it. No, she wanted to blow his mind. She scooted up, leaned down and took the tip of him into her mouth.

“Jesus God,” he burst out. “Ainslie…”

“I know you like this,” she whispered. “I know exactly what you like.”

She sucked on him, swirled her tongue around him, like he was an ice cream cone, and he was just as delicious. The weird thing was, although she’d done this with other men since him, she’d never really liked it much. But he was a craving she had to satisfy. He felt so hot, smooth and hard, and she took him deeper and deeper into her mouth and down her throat, trying to swallow him whole.

“Holy shit.” His hands grabbed hold of the bed sheet.

Her hair was getting in the way and she lifted her mouth from him and tried to toss it back, but the long, tangled strands were everywhere. Then he reached up and smoothed her hair back, pulling it behind her head and holding it there in a loose ponytail.

“Thank you.” She met his eyes and held his gaze as she went down again, pausing to inhale the warm, masculine scent of him. He watched her back with eyes almost feverishly intense, and she slid her mouth up and down over him, cupping his balls, rolling them gently, pressing her finger into the place behind them that drove him nuts.

His hips twitched beneath her and he pushed himself farther into her mouth. She willingly took more, then he tugged her ponytail harder, pulling her off him. She looked up at him.

“I love that,” he said, with a moan. “But I want to come inside you. Please, Ainslie.”

She wiped her mouth and slid her body up along his, rubbing her breasts against his chest. “Yes,” she whispered. “Have you got a condom?”

“Oh, Christ.” He covered his eyes with his hand. “I do. It’s in my wallet, in my pants.”

“In the living room.” She smiled. “I’ll wait.”

He rolled out of bed and strode long-legged, lean-hipped out of the room. He was back almost instantly, rolling the condom onto his cock and then he loomed over her. He was big, bigger and broader than he had been, and, for a moment, she was overwhelmed by his size and the strength emanating from him as he held himself over her on arms that were taut and bulging, his shoulders bunched.

She gazed up at him and laid her hands to his chest, then shoulders as they looked at each other for a long moment.

“I can’t believe how much I want you,” he said.

“I know.” She sighed. “I know.”

She reached between them to take hold of him, opening for him, and she directed the blunt head of his cock to her, rubbing him through her moisture. He thrust forward and then he was in her, filling her, so big and hot. The suddenness of it forced the air out of her lungs. He paused there, waiting, throbbing inside her, his entire body rigid with control.

Then he thrust again, so deep inside her she could feel him against her womb. He stopped again, pressing himself into her, and the exquisite pleasure of him touching that sensitive place so deep inside her was almost painful. A hard, fiery wave of heat swept over her body. She cried out, soft cries of ecstasy, lifting her hips to him, her hands gliding down to his tight buttocks. She held him there, clenching around him while he pulsed inside her. They both knew the next movement would send them both over.

“Ah, fuck.” He groaned and thrust into her even farther, fucking her hard, withdrawing and slamming into her again. That sent her up, over the edge, tumbling, free-falling, sensation rolling from the centre of her down her legs in waves of ecstasy almost too much to bear. She cried out and held onto him tightly, with her arms, her legs, every inner muscle she had, as she rode through the waves. His hard lunges into her prolonged the bliss until he shuddered against her, too, grinding into her. She lifted herself against him, taking everything he gave.

They slept after that, in each other’s arms, and, when Ainslie awoke in the night, his erection pressed against her again. She sought his eyes in the darkness and found him awake, his face serious, and eyes full of hot desire. She shifted against him, sliding a leg over his hip, and they made love again, slowly, watching each other’s faces, kissing with long, slow, open-mouthed kisses, tongues sliding, hands gliding. They rocked together in a warm, delicious rhythm until they both burst with pleasure, shaking and breathless.

A surge of emotion swelled inside her, so strong, so sweet it hurt, because she knew this was just a moment. A moment of aching tenderness, of fierce passion. A moment she would never have again. Because Griff had walked back into her life, but tomorrow he was walking out again, taking her heart with him.

CHAPTER 6

Ainslie awoke before Griff in the morning, sunlight streaming through the open window, the morning air a little too cool now, birds chirping out in her small yard. She slid out of bed and padded over the carpet to close the window and draw the curtains. Then she turned and looked at Griff in her bed.

He filled the bed, legs stretched out, one arm flung out sideways. His face was now shadowed with a day’s growth of beard, but in sleep he looked so sweetly handsome. One arm was flung up over his head, the swell of his biceps showing his strength. Her heart squeezed so hard it almost stopped her breath, and her legs went soft and weak.

She put her hands over her face. What had she done?
Good God.
This was the man she’d loved with all her heart, who had broken her heart so painfully she’d thought she would never recover. And now she clearly knew—she hadn’t.

Although the sight of him naked, warm and sprawled in her bed drew her to him like a magnet, she forced herself to grab her robe and leave the room. She used the bathroom down the hall, then drew the silky sash tight around her waist as she walked to the kitchen.

Coffee.
She’d make coffee. With fingers almost numb and a mind spinning in circles, she managed to count scoops of coffee and fill the appliance with water. She pushed the on button, then stood there, hands pressed onto the counter, staring at the little red light without even seeing it while the coffee started to hiss and drip.

She’d cheated on Matthew.

Guilt and regret swept over her so sharply she closed her eyes.

“Good morning.”

Griff’s low voice came from the door of the kitchen. He’d pulled on a pair of jeans, but left the top button undone. They sat low on his hips and he was so beautiful it made her want to cry when she gazed at him.

Her emotions were so close to the surface she was over-reacting to everything. She could not let him know what he’d done to her. She straightened up and forced a smile.

“’Morning. I’m…uh…making coffee.”

He nodded, his eyes serious and thoughtful. Then he strolled into the kitchen, right up to her and put his hands on her hips. He leaned down to kiss her mouth and he tasted minty.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

She blinked up at him. “I’m not sure.” She turned away from him to get two mugs from a shelf. “Actually, I’m feeling pretty messed up right now.”

“Yeah.” He thrust a hand through his thick, dark hair. “Me, too.”

She turned and eyed him, not expecting that.

He gave a short laugh. “Yeah, I do have emotions.”

She just kept looking at him. The coffee maker give a final sputter and she turned to it. Done. She poured two cups and moved to the fridge for the milk she knew he would want. She handed it to him wordlessly and he poured a generous amount in. She pushed the sugar bowl across the counter to him and he tipped three large spoons of sugar into the mug, then stirred it.

She couldn’t help but smile.

“You really need to learn to drink coffee properly. It’s a beverage, not a dessert.”

A smile tugged the corners of his mouth too. “I drink it the way I like it.” He paused. “I guess we need to talk.”

“I guess so.”

They sat on stools at the high counter and sipped their coffee. Her insides churned and burned. They’d screwed up, and now she was going to hear how badly.

“I just want you to know that what happened was— That was not my intention when I came up here.” He gazed down into his milky-pale coffee. “I swear I had no idea of sleeping with you at all.” He paused. “Well, that is, until I saw you. Then that was
all
I could think about.”

Ainslie didn’t know what to say. She’d felt the same. One look at him and her panties were damp, her nipples at attention and her mind a running porn movie of her and him, naked and sweaty. That still didn’t make it right.

“It’s clear there’s still something between us,” he said carefully.

She sighed.
Yes.
But damned if she’d admit it out loud right now.

“There’s something so special about you, Ainslie. You just do something to me and I lose my mind.” He ran a hand though his hair. “I didn’t think it would still be like that. But it is.”

She took in his words, astonished that he felt the same way she did. Whatever kind of connection they had, whatever had drawn them together in the beginning, whatever made them do things to each other that they regretted, then brought them together again, had not weakened over the years.

She knew she had changed, grown up, become a different woman than she’d been at twenty-one. Likely Griff had changed, too. In fact, she’d seen definite signs that he had, not the least of which were the multiple orgasms he’d given her last night with no thought of his own release. So, given that they’d both changed so much, she would have thought the attraction between them would have disappeared along with the people they used to be.

But it appeared to be a force that went deeper than she’d even known. And holy shit, that was a terrifying thought.

Griff looked up at her. “Have you forgiven me for what I did?”

She looked at him and thought long and hard about that. The dark bitterness and anger had faded even from yesterday. The hurt now seemed so minor. How could her entire perspective have changed? But now she’d slept with him and it had been incredible, leaving her open to being hurt all over again. She still didn’t understand why he was here, but she was pretty damn sure it wasn’t to start a relationship again.

Shit, shit, shit.
Why had she been so stupid?

“Yeah,” she finally said. “It’s myself I’m mad at now.”

“Want to talk about that?”

No way in hell was she going to admit to him what she was feeling right now. She was determined to play this cool. They’d had dinner, caught up on each other’s lives, had had great sex and now he’d go back to LA and they’d never see each other again. She would say, “Keep in touch, Griff. Call if you’re in town and we’ll do lunch.”

Yeah, right.
She tried to ignore the jagged blade sawing at her heart.

Damn it, she’d do it if it killed her rather than let Griff know he’d torn her life apart all over again. She couldn’t blame him. She’d
let
him do it.

“I’m feeling shitty because I just cheated on Matthew,” she said, willing to go that far.

He nodded. “Yeah. I know. Me…” He stopped, tweaking her curiosity. “I’m not sure what to say about that. I could tell you ‘don’t feel bad; he’ll never know,’ but I know that won’t make you feel any better.”

She shook her head. “I’m not a cheater.”

“I know, Ains. It was just something kind of…out of control.”

“Yeah.”

They sat in silence for a while, sipping their coffee. He put a hand out and clasped one of hers resting on the counter. Their fingers curled around each other and still they were silent. Ainslie wanted to know when he was leaving. She wanted him gone so she could fall apart in private, figure out what she was going to do now with her life. Again. But she didn’t want to say it.

* * *

Griff wanted to stay. Now he’d found her again and experienced the connection they had, he didn’t think it was possible for him to leave. But he had to.

Not only did he have issues to resolve, she had a boyfriend and she was clearly suffering major guilt from what she’d just done. She must care about the guy, although he had a hard time imagining there could be anything between her and Matthew that remotely compared to the electricity arcing between them.

Maybe if he stayed she would realize it, too. He took a deep breath and took the plunge. “What are your plans today?”

She looked at him. Her hair was all long and tangled, her eyes had make-up smudged beneath them, and the shadows in her eyes made his gut cramp.

“Why?”

He smiled. “That’s not an answer.” He lifted a shoulder. “I just thought…I’m here…and I really like Santa Adalia…and… Shit, Ainslie, I want to spend more time with you.”

She stared at him, their fingers still joined. “I don’t know what you’re asking.”

“Hell, neither do I.” He rubbed his face.

“I don’t have any plans. Matthew and I were going to do something tonight, but probably just a movie or something.”

“I could take you out for dinner again,” he said, suggesting the first thing that came to his mind. Her eyes flickered.

“You don’t have to do that. I could cook dinner for us. I was thinking about going to the Farmers Market this afternoon and picking up some things.” She took a breath. “Are you going to stay until tomorrow?”

He nodded slowly, watching her face. “If that’s okay.”

She nodded, too.

He had the feeling he’d had the first time he’d parachuted: jumping out of the plane, freefalling, praying with every fiber of his being the parachute would open. This time he wasn’t so sure he even had a parachute.

He grinned and lifted her fingers to his mouth. He pressed a kiss to them and watched her eyes darken. “I’m starving. Let me make you breakfast.”

She gave him a slow, reluctant smile back. “
You’re
going to make
me
breakfast? In my kitchen?”

“Sure.” He slid off the stool and refilled both their coffee mugs. “You must have something.”

Together they looked through her fridge and pantry, and while he whipped up eggs for omelets, she made toast and poured juice.

“I can’t believe you cook.” Amusement shaded her voice.

“Of course,” he said with mock affront. “How would I survive without cooking?”

“Lots of guys do. And I don’t recall you having any culinary skills.”

“Living in a dorm doesn’t give you a lot of opportunity. And I wasn’t about to start cooking in your mom’s kitchen.”

She grinned.

“That’s the best kind of margarine.” He nodded approvingly as she spread the toast.

“You’re just full of surprises. What do you know about margarine?”

“Hey, I know all about those trans fats and saturated fats. It’s important to be healthy.”

She nodded, appearing bemused. “That’s true. I wish I had more patients like you. I’d have less business if people lived healthier lifestyles.”

“Yeah. That’s the problem with our health care system,” he said enthusiastically, stirring the eggs in the pan.

She lifted her brows at him. “Huh?”

“Too many sick people.”

She laughed. “You know, I think you just hit the nail on the head.”

They talked as they ate breakfast, although he was distracted by Ainslie’s robe that kept falling open, revealing the curves of her breasts, a bit pink from his whiskers. When she crossed her legs, the short robe fell open there, too, and he couldn’t help but look, wondering if her thighs bore the marks of his attention as well.

She tugged the robe closed, apparently aware of his eyes on her.

“Don’t worry,” he said softly. “I’ve seen you naked.”

She blushed then and it was pretty and sweet, but she left the robe alone and his mind went a little fuzzy as he continued to fork eggs mindlessly into his mouth while staring at her cleavage. God, what he wanted to do with that flesh.

He shifted on his stool as his jeans tightened. “What time does the market open?”

She glanced at the clock on the wall and smiled. “I think about eight o’clock.”

It was almost noon and he laughed. “Okay, I guess we can go anytime.”

“There’s no rush. Although the best stuff is probably already gone. I’d like to have a shower.”

“
Great
idea.” He dumped his plate into the sink and tossed back the last of his orange juice. “Let’s go.”

She shook her head, amusement tipping the corners of her pouty mouth. “Um…that’s not what I meant.”

“What?” He moved closed and pulled her against him, slipping the belt of the robe open. He drew the sides of the robe apart so her breasts were pressed to his bare chest, then slid his hands over her butt. He rubbed her through the silky fabric.

“We can shower together. You can still do what you need to do…I’ll shampoo your hair, wash your back even.”

“Griff…”

“It saves water,” he cajoled, kissing her jaw. Her head tipped to allow him access, and he licked her neck. He felt her indrawn breath. “Come on.”

“I’ve…I’ve never showered with a man.” She was nearly panting.

Oh. Wow.
He liked that. He wasn’t going to mention Mitchell or Matthew or whatever the hell his name was, but the guy must be lacking something in the sex department. Inexplicable happiness floated inside him.

“It’ll be nice, I promise you,” he murmured, still kissing her neck. She was so warm and smelled so good. Then he closed the robe, tied the belt around her slim waist, turned her and walked her out of the kitchen and into the bathroom.