Best of Desire. Оливия Гейтс

prepared for this.” And she wanted this, wanted him. But… “I’m not sure I like being so predictable.”

      “You are anything but predictable. I’ve never met a more confusing person in my life.” He tugged a damp lock of her hair. “Any more questions?”

      She inhaled deeply, letting the scents fill her with courage. “Who can take off faster the other person’s clothes?”

      “Now there’s a challenge I can’t resist.” He bunched her cover-up in his hands and peeled the soft cotton over her head.

      Shaking her hair free, she leaned into him just as he slanted his mouth over hers. His fingers made fast work of the ties to her bathing suit top. The crocheted triangles fell away, baring her to the steamy greenhouse air.

      She nipped his ear where a single dot-shaped scar stayed from a healed-over piercing. A teenage rebellion, he’d told her once. She could envision him on a Spanish galleon, a swarthy and buffed pirate king.

      For a moment, for this moment, she let herself indulge in foolish fantasies, no fears. She would allow the experience to sweep her away as smoothly as she brushed off his board shorts. She pushed aside the sterner responsible voice inside her that insisted she remember past mistakes and tread cautiously.

      “It’s been too damn long.” He thumbed off her swimsuit bottom.

      “Uh, hello?” She kicked the last fabric barrier away and prayed other barriers could be as easily discarded. “It’s been less than eight hours since you left my room.”

      “Too long.”

      She played her fingers along the cut of his sculpted chest, down the flat plane of his washboard stomach. Pressing her lips to his shoulder, she kissed her way toward his arm until she grazed the different texture of his tattooed flesh—inked with a black nautical compass. “I’ve always wanted to ask why you chose this particular tattoo.”

      His muscles bunched and twitched. “It symbolizes being able to find my way home.”

      “There’s still so much I don’t know about you.” Concerns trickled through her like the rain trying to find its way inside.

      “Hey, we’re here to escape. All that can wait.” He slipped her glasses from her face and placed them on the end table.

      Parting through the floral arrangement to the middle, he slipped out an orchid and pinched off the flower. He trailed the bloom along her nose, her cheekbones and jaw in a silky scented swirl. “For magnificence.”

      Her knees went wobbly and she sat on the edge of the chaise, tapestry fabric rough on the backs on her thighs, rose-petal smooth. He tucked the orchid behind her ear, easing her back until she reclined.

      Returning to the vase, he tugged free a long stalk with indigo buds and explored the length of her arm, then one finger at a time. Then over her stomach to her other hand and back up again in a shivery path that left her breathless.

      “Blue salvia,” he said, “because I think of you night and day.”

      His words stirred her as much as the glide of the flower over her shoulder. Then he placed it on the tiny pillow under her head.

      A pearly calla lily chosen next, he traced her collarbone before lightly dipping between her breasts.

      “Shannon,” he declared hoarsely, “I chose this lily because you are a majestic beauty.”

      Detouring, he sketched the underside of her breast and looped round again and again, each circle smaller until he teased the dusky tip. Her body pulled tight and tingly. Her back arched into the sweet sensation and he transferred his attention to her other breast, repeating the delicious pattern.

      Reaching for him, she clutched his shoulders, aching to urge him closer. “Tony…”

      Gently, he clasped her wrists and tucked them at her sides. “No touching or I’ll stop.”

      “Really?”

      “Probably not, because I can’t resist you.” He left the lily in her open palm. “But how about you play along anyway? I guarantee you’ll like the results.”

      Dark eyes glinting with an inner light, Tony eased free…“A coral rose for passion.”

      His words raspy, his face intense, he skimmed the bud across her stomach, lower. Lower still. Her head fell back, her eyes closed as she wondered just how far he would dare go.

      The silky teasing continued from her hip inward, daring more and even more. A husky moan escaped between her clenched lips.

      Still, he continued until the rose caressed…oh my. Her knee draped to the side giving him, giving the flower, fuller access as he teased her. Gooseflesh sprinkled her skin. Her body focused on the feelings and perfumes stoking desire higher.

      A warm breath steamed over her stomach with only a second’s warning before his mouth replaced the flower. Her fingers twitched into a fist, crushing the lily and releasing a fresh burst of perfume. A flick of his tongue, alternated with gentle suckles, caressed and coaxed her toward completion.

      Her head thrashed as she chased her release. He took her to the brink, then retreated, drawing out the pleasure until the pressure inside her swelled and throbbed…

      And bloomed.

      A cry of pleasure burst free and she didn’t bother holding it back. She rode the sensation, gasping in floral-tinged breaths.

      His bold hands stroked upward as he slid over her, blanketing her with his hard, honed body. She hooked a languid leg over his hip. Her arm draped his shoulders as she drew him toward her, encouraging him to press inside.

      The smell of crushed flowers clung to his skin as she kissed her way along his chest, back up his neck. He filled her, stretched her, moved inside her. She was surprised to feel desire rising again to a fevered pitch. Writhing, she lost herself in the barrage of sensations. The bristle of his chest hair against her breasts. The silky softness of flower petals against her back.

      And the scents—she gasped in the perfect blend of musk and sex and earthy greenhouse. She raked his back, broad and strong and yet so surprisingly gentle, too.

      He was working his way not only into her body but into her heart. When had she ever stood a chance at resisting him? As much as she tried to tell herself it was only physical, only an affair, she knew this man had come to mean so much more to her. He reached her in ways no one ever had before.

      She grappled at the hard planes of his back, completion so close all over again.

      “Let go and I’ll catch you,” he vowed against her ear and she believed him.

      For the first time in so long, she totally trusted.

      The magnitude exploded inside her, blasting through barriers. Pleasure filled every niche. Muscles knotted in Tony’s back as he tensed over her and growled his own hoarse completion against her ear.

      Staring up at the rain-splattered skylight, tears burning her eyes again, she held Tony close. She felt utterly bare and unable to hide any longer. She’d trusted him with her body.

      Now the time had come to trust him with her secrets.

       Twelve

      Tony watched Shannon on his iPhone as she talked to Kolby. She’d assured him that she wanted to stay longer in their greenhouse getaway, once she checked on her son.

      Raindrops pattered slowly on the skylight, the afternoon shower coming to an end. Sunshine refracted off the moisture, casting prisms throughout the indoor garden.

      He had Shannon back in his bed and in his life and he intended to do anything it took to keep her there. The chemistry between them, the connection—it was one of a kind. The way she’d