Chapter 39
She loved that when things went wrong he laughed and rolled with the punches. She could learn from him.
“All we have is today.” He gazed up at her; the emotion smoldered, sparked, then burned clear, bright and steady until she had to look away again. If this wasn’t love, she had no idea what it could possibly be. She’d never felt anything like this before.
One day. Only one day to explore it.
He stood, moving his hands leisurely along her thighs, kissed her with increasing passion. She unsnapped, unzipped his jeans and pushed them down; he caught them with one hand behind his back and extracted a condom from the pocket.
“Ah, took me for granted?” Her fingers entered the fly of his boxers, catching his hard length in her fist.
Breath hissed between his teeth. “A man can always hope.”
She leaned into his broad chest, played with his nipple, teeth and tongue causing soft moans that pleased her as much if not more than her touch pleased him. She loved the power she had to make him this aroused; the power he had to affect her so deeply. Her hands kept stroking his erection, exploring the soft skin and jutting hardness, until her need to feel him inside her began to be desperate. She shoved the material of his boxers down and away, setting him free. He was so beautiful, generous and smooth, sleek and eager.
“Now,” she whispered. “While we can.”
He rolled on the condom, then knelt and used his mouth on her. Kissing her there very passionately. She arched her back, hands landing hard on the table behind her, while his tongue thrust inside her, painting the outside of her opening with moisture. Her breath accelerated; her heartbeat followed. Oh, what she’d missed that first night together by being asleep.
“Nolan.” 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. Candace 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 Rosehill, Candace. Stay…stay here in Quinley with me.”
Candace 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.” Nolan 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.”
Candace hid her face, nodding mutely in agreement, trying hard to calm herself, and trying harder not to hear Michelle shouting her told-you-so.
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Candles.
Nolan found the cabinet he’d opened his first official morning here, when he’d shared Raisin Bran with Candace, and pulled out a box of candles, hoping Michelle and Candace would excuse his thievery—no time to buy any. He added the candles to the insulated bag he’d prepared while he was cooking Candace’s breakfast, packed with dinner he’d take to his family’s summer house on the Lake, where he planned to spend what could be his last night with Candace. 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 Quinley’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.