Chapter Eleven – The Temperature is Hot and Rising
by Vonnie Davis
The woman had a mouth made for kissing. A man could live happy the rest of his life feasting on her sweet mouth. She was slowly driving him mad. A moan escaped from somewhere deep inside her. In response, he gently bit her lower lip and soothed it with his tongue.
Her wide eyes hazed with passion. “Mi…Mitch,” she murmured against his lips.
Did she say, My Mitch? Had he heard her correctly? He fisted his hands in her hair and blazed a trail of kisses down the side of her face and neck. “You’d better stop me while you can. Tell me to stop, Candy.”
She shook her head, her eyes hiding her emotions.
What was she thinking? Was she afraid to say no?
“What I'd really like…” Her voice trailed off and she swallowed. Slowly she unzipped his jacket and tugged off his knitted cap. “Pick up that wood and stoke the fire in the fireplace. Then take me to the bedroom and stoke mine.”
Did she mean it? His hands slipped under her shirt and found warm skin. Her lips parted as she leaned forward and bit his earlobe. Don’t analyze it, man. Just take her to bed. Slaking his needs—needs she’d stirred to a fevered pitch—was certainly how he wanted to spend the day. The entire day, because once wouldn’t be enough.
With his eyes locked on hers, he stepped back. “If you’re serious, my bedroom is…”
“I know where your bedroom is.” Her eyes were shadowed, full of mystery and emotion he didn’t understand.
His hands shook, and he clenched them on his hips. Yes, he wanted her. In some ways he always had. He frowned at the realization. Mitch had been fifteen, a skinny kid who hadn’t had his growth spurt yet, the last time he saw Candy. His hair was clipped short and tight the way his father liked it. Yet, even at that young age, there’d been something about Candy that called to him. When he visited her in the kitchen, there was a rightness about their time together.
He couldn’t put a label on it. As he stood in front of the adult Candy with her lips swollen from his kisses and her eyes heavy-lidded with passion, he couldn’t describe how the little Candy Wright he'd known so long ago made him feel. Needy. And hell, with her here in his house, she brought it all back. The admission scared the beejeesus out of him.
If she knew who he really was, would she still want him?
“Don’t start anything you don’t plan on finishing. And don’t crawl into my bed if you’re going to regret it later.”
“No promises. No regrets. And definitely no entanglements.” She stepped out of his arms and headed for his bedroom. “Works for me.”
For some reason her remarks grated on his nerves. Bugged the hell out of him. He stalked into the living room and stoked the fireplace, filling it with wood. His gaze drifted in the direction of the bedroom. “Works for me,” he growled in a mocking tone. She was waiting for him. Was she taking off her clothes? He hardened at the thought. Would she be snuggled under his sheets, waiting for him to come to her?
Major nuzzled his hand. He scratched behind the dog’s ears. “Well, how does it feel to have a master who’s nothing more than a booty call?”
The dog whined.
Murky afternoon light filtered through the windows of the bedroom when Candy woke. The snow wasn't coming down as heavily. Was the storm over? She stretched under the sheets and comforter, her naked skin sliding decadently across the smoothness. The shower was running, and Mitch was singing. Somehow it all felt right, her being here in his big bed with her skin still humming from his touch, and her system singing its own sultry love song.
He’d come to her like a man possessed, almost as if he were angry. Then he turned tender, his sweetness nearly breaking her heart. She’d never been loved like that, as if she were someone precious. For this one morning, she needed to feel cherished. She needed to feel like someone truly cared.
Mitch had made love to her four times. She stretched again, lifting the sheet to cover her mouth as she grinned with feminine satisfaction.
The things that man did to her. Closing her eyes, she felt heat bloom in her cheeks. She wasn’t aggressive. Normally she dated a man for weeks before sleeping with him, so why… A frown wrinkled her brow. Something about Mitch was different. Familiar, or so it seemed when she caved in to the need to be closer to him.
The shower turned off, but the singing continued. He had a nice voice. The man had a nice everything. She just needed to focus on the fact that this was all temporary. A sexual interlude in the middle of a raging blizzard. How foolish am I for wanting something more permanent?
When the bedroom door opened, Major shot in around Mitch and hopped onto the bed. The dog gave her one canine kiss before turning around twice and flopping onto the comforter with a contented sigh.
A towel hugged Mitch’s waist. He was lean and well-muscled. Those six-pack abs weren’t airbrushed on. She knew all too well the power behind them. He sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze locked with hers, and leaned down for a kiss.
“Hey.” His voice was soft, affectionate.
He nuzzled her neck, his wet hair tickling her. “We missed lunch. Hungry?”
She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Typical male. As soon as the bottom half of your anatomy is taken care of, thoughts move above the belt.”
His hand rubbed over her breast. “And just how many typical males am I going to have to fend off to keep you for myself?” His teeth grazed the column of her neck.
Fear crept into the bed and snuggled between them. “Mitch, we said no promises, no regrets, and for sure, no entanglements.” Her life was in New York. “I’ll be leaving as soon as the roads are clear. You know that.”
He stood and went to the other side of the bed, yanked his jeans off the floor, and stepped into them. The zipper echoed in the silent room. “So what the hell was this? Just some meaningless fu—”
“Don’t use that tone with me. Or that kind of language, either.” She sat up in the bed and tugged the sheets around her neck. “It was what it was.”
He gritted his teeth. “Maybe you could be more specific.”
What did he want from her? Her heart clenched in her chest. They lived two different lifestyles hundreds of miles apart. She took a deep breath before she spoke. “It was an amazing afternoon between two consenting adults.”
He tugged on a turtleneck and snagged a pair of clean socks from a drawer. He put on his socks and boots in silence. “Never figured you for a user, Candy.” Standing, he walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.