A Little Wild (27 page)

Instead, he said, “I love being with you like this.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, buster. Where’s your razor?”

He moved around her and opened the medicine cabinet. “It’s not electric.” He withdrew a fresh disposable razor and a can of aloe shaving gel.

“Good. I didn’t want it to be.” She accepted the razor.

Zach foamed his face with the running water. “Be gentle.”

She pulled him between her legs again. As she raised the blade to his jaw, his stiff cock grazed her belly.

“You might want to rest that awhile,” she said.

“I don’t think I can.”

“Fair enough. As long as it’s still around when I need it.”

She began shaving him. He tensed when the blade touched his skin. However, after she whisked away the first trail of foam, he relaxed. A woman had never shaved him before, but he trusted Tess. Besides, a knick would be worth it. Every time she raised her hand for another stroke of the razor, her tits lifted and her abdomen skimmed the swollen head of his cock.

Finished, she rinsed the blades and passed him the razor. “Done.” She caressed his clean-shaven jaw. Lightly kissing him, she whispered, “Your turn.”

“
My
turn?” He almost dropped the damn razor.

“I want you to shave me.”

He flicked his gaze to her pussy. “You mean—?”

Her eyes closed briefly. “Yes.”

Fuck, she was pure male fantasy. “All of it?”

“Maybe not all of it. Just the lips.”

His cock might have been stiff before, but his entire body raged for her now. Not only because of the sensual exhilaration of sharing another first with her.
She
trusted him. Much more than she knew. Otherwise, she wouldn’t surrender the most delicate part of her body to his care.

“Here?” he asked. “On the counter?”

She jumped off the vanity. “In the shower. I’ll sit on the built-in seat. It’s big enough.” She smiled. “That’s the spot we haven’t explored yet.”

“You planned this?”

She nodded.

“Naughty girl. I’ll fetch a new razor.”

“No, I want you to use the same one I used on you.”

“I don’t want to knick you.” He retrieved the aloe gel.

“You won’t.”

Again, there it was. Implicit trust.

She started the water in the doublewide shower. Heat rushed from the showerhead, and steam filled the bathroom. Entering the stall after her, he closed the door. She took the razor and shaving gel and placed them on a shelf, then reached for the soap and lathered his body.

Zach returned the favor, soaping and rinsing her.

She sat on the tile seat. Grabbing the acrylic bar, she propped a foot on the wall.

The position opened her to him, and heat thickened his veins. Kneeling before her, he gazed at her glistening pussy—pink as springtime petals, but much, much more enticing.

He retrieved the razor, squirted gel onto one palm, and foamed it up.

Gingerly, he dabbed her outer lips with the soothing cream.

Her giggles competed with the thrumming pulse of the shower spray. “That tickles.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He glanced up.

“I’ve come this far. I don’t want to lose my nerve.”

“It’s not a competition, babe.”

Her foot slid down the wall tiles. “If you don’t find the idea exciting—”

His throat squeezed. “I do.”

Her foot slid up the wall again. “I’m not a contortionist, Halliday. Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tenderness joined the need roiling inside him. He was so lost. To her body, her soul, her smile, those beautiful blue eyes.

He returned his gaze to her sex. What a hardship. With two fingers, he stretched the outer lips taut and carefully slicked off the red-gold curls. Frequently rinsing the razor and applying more gel, he remained focused on his pleasurable task. Her groans reached his ears.

Erection throbbing, he looked up. Her eyes were closed, her nipples pink and pointed. She moaned again, and he nearly came right there.

Willing his heartbeat to slow, he pressed a thumb to her clit. Rewarded with more moans, he continued shaving, exposing ultrasoft skin with each gentle razor scrape. Excitement swarming him, he whisked away hair, applied gel, massaged it in, and whisked again. When he finished, only a tiny patch of groomed curls remained above her pale pussy lips and stiff clitoris. Sucking in a breath, he soaked a washcloth with warm water and bathed her tender skin free of the foam.

Her heel slipped down the shower wall. He caught it in one hand.

“Don’t get up yet. I want to look. Hang on to the bar.”

Her irregular breathing signaled her approval. He hooked her leg over his shoulder. The position supported her while spreading her naked vagina wide to his view. He explored the smooth flesh of her freshly shaven mound, stroking a finger between her inner and outer folds.

Blood pounding, he parted her and looked his fill.

Hot water pummeling his back, he cupped her ass in both hands and licked her hot center. The lingering aloe scent enriched her natural woman’s essence. She gasped as he swirled his tongue over her shaved mound and sucked the patch of remaining hair. He slicked his tongue up her folds, around her clit, inside her.

Her foot gripped his hip, and her other leg clamped his shoulder. Her free hand latched onto his deltoids as he nipped and sucked.

Soon, her moans spiraled into passionate cries. Her thighs clenched as she came. He untangled their limbs and lowered her feet to the shower floor.

“Easy,” he whispered. “I’ll carry you to bed.” Another first. Nine days of the best sex of his life, and they’d yet to test out a mattress.

Her breath released in semi-ragged pants as she nodded. “I can’t walk right now, anyway.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Zach shut off the shower and carried her dripping wet to his bed.

“Should we get some towels?” she whispered.

“Not in the mood.” He needed her.
Now.

He tugged back the quilt and laid her on the sheets, then reached in the nightstand for protection and put it on.

Claiming her mouth, he entered her. Her hips rose to meet his, her wet skin slick and warm beneath his hands.

The incredible sensation of her naked flesh slapped him with every thrust. His heart pumped crazily. He slipped his fingers between her legs and stroked. Within seconds, her cries of pleasure catapulted him over the edge. Every muscle and tendon in his body straining, he came.
Hard.

The force of his release tore from his throat. If his heart burst from the pressure, he’d die a happy man.

In her arms. Now and forever.

Ethan had chosen his clothing for his date with Chloe Nichols carefully. And, okay, with professional assistance. His new style credo—no ties, suits or button-down shirts worn outside of the office or formal occasions. Instead, he’d selected a lightweight shirt the sales associate at Sandringham Menswear had called a mock turtleneck. Apparently, the color—taupe, or something equally
GQ
—brought out the “amber undertones” in his eyes. Casual trousers “a shade darker” than taupe, a black leather belt, and loafers had de-suited him to the sales associate’s satisfaction. Also to Chloe Nichol’s satisfaction, if her wide smile when he’d picked her up provided evidence.

Now he and Chloe sat at a cozy table in Umberto’s, enjoying the last of a full-bodied barolo while sharing a dessert goblet of tiramisu. Normally, Ethan preferred eating from his own dish. However, so far nothing about his relationship with Chloe fell within his range of “normal”. Interesting conversation replaced the first-date awkwardness he usually experienced.

“She didn’t know the wife existed?” he asked in response to Chloe’s story about her wealthy father abandoning her mother when her mom became pregnant.

“Not an inkling.” Chloe licked tiramisu cream from her lips. “He was fifteen years older than she was, but very handsome. It wasn’t like she was dating a bald guy with a beer gut.”

Ethan laughed.

“He blew her away with his so-called sophistication. I mean, he really laid it on her, Ethan, seducing her over several months. Once they learned she was pregnant…” Her gaze shadowed.

“He told her about his wife,” Ethan guessed, and she nodded.

“Mom was heartbroken. She really loved the jerk. But Daddy Dearest refused to leave his society biddy.”

“Some men are assholes.”

“Some women are, too. I’ll admit, no matter how badly he treated her, he looked after us financially. I never met him. He didn’t want to. He moved his family to Toronto to help keep us secret.” She swirled her spoon around the inside of the goblet. “He thought he could make up for his absence from our lives with guilt money. It didn’t work.”

“No wonder you don’t like Suits.”

“I don’t know. I like
you
. A lot.”

Irrational happiness flooded him. “And I like you.” He dipped his spoon into the rich dessert and lifted the confection to her mouth. A pale rose washed her face as she drew on the spoon. His pulse leapt. “You could still meet him if you wanted.”

Shaking her head, she dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “He died of a stroke last year.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I.” Her green eyes glistened. “Oddly, he left me a big inheritance. He didn’t want his family knowing about me when he was alive, but he had no problem revealing my existence in his will. You wouldn’t believe the hate emails his widow sent me.”

“Did you accept the money?”

“You bet. I had student loans to pay off. I bought my car, helped my mom kill her mortgage then invested the rest toward university expenses for my future kids.” She studied him. “I want children, Ethan. Two or three little rug rats. And a man who’ll stick around to help raise them. Does that scare you?”

“No. I had a wonderful childhood. I’d love to have children someday.”

She paused. “I want to have my first baby before I hit thirty.”

“When do you turn thirty?”

“Three years.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”
She laughed.

“Well, you’re not making me sign a blood oath tonight. If things work out between us, you want three kids. But if you decide after a month that you hate me—”

“Have no fear, I will not harvest your sperm without your consent.”

He chuckled. “Had enough dessert? Let’s get out of here.”

“Gladly.”

He paid the bill. Hand in hand, they left the restaurant and strolled in the gathering dusk to the Granville Street Mall, which was closed to traffic save for pedestrians, buses and taxis. A divergent mix of soaring shopping centers, small businesses, street vendors and performers converged on them.

A somber aspect coexisted with the window-shoppers and movie-goers—the strained faces of the homeless huddling in shadows, the shouts of university students celebrating the new term with too many beers. Ethan dropped several dollars into an open guitar case cradling a sleeping puppy. Its owner’s voice serenaded them as they continued along the sidewalk.

Ethan said, “I saw you outside the coffeehouse once, aside from that day you took off on me in Stanley Park.”

“You mean near McKitrick Advertising in Yaletown?”

He squeezed her hand. “No. I remember that day, though. I’d bought a macchiato from Lovin’ before my meeting with North Star Marketing. Hey!” He glanced down at her. “You were there?”

“I followed you.” She scurried a few steps to maintain his long strides. Her sandals pattered brickwork as her green skirt swirled mid-thigh.

He shortened his steps. “You were in Lovin’ when I came in?”

“I’d just returned from my lunch break. I hid behind a display when I saw you, then pretty much had you under surveillance until you entered the marketing building. Dumb, huh?”

He laughed. “I’m flattered. And relieved. I thought someone was following me.”

“I only followed you because I thought you were hot.”

“Do you still think I’m hot?”

“More than ever.”

The breeze picked up, its fading summer warmth pleasant after yesterday’s rain. “I’ve had you under surveillance, too,” Ethan said. At her curious glance, he elaborated, “Four weeks ago. Danver’s Pub. You were with Teresa. Um, Tess. I was with Zach.”

“I didn’t see you!”

“I left before Tess spoke to my brother. Zach pointed you out as someone he thought would be good for me. When he told me to go for it, I wanted to, but I was overwhelmed with work, so I pretended I was interested in Tess.”

Chloe’s face scrunched into an adorable expression of envy. “But you weren’t.”

“No. I only had eyes for you.” Cheesy, cheesy, cheesy. But also true.

Stopping beneath the navy-striped awning of a candy shop, he pulled her close. “I’ll be honest, Chloe. What you said in the ladies’ room last week, I felt it right along with you. I still feel it, stronger now. I want to see how things develop between us. Maybe I’m moving too fast—”

She shook her head. “If you’re moving too fast, I’m a flipping freight train. I’ve never felt like this, Ethan. I want to know everything about you. Mainly, I just want to be with you.”

“Good.” Serenity claimed him. “Because that’s exactly what I want.”

He kissed her, their mouths melding. Arousal and deep affection and certainty for their future swarmed him.

Only a moron glimpsed a lifetime of happiness with a woman during a first kiss.

He’d better not apply to Mensa then, because they would reject him.

Chapter Seventeen

Tess unplugged the phone, killed her cell, and placed a dark cloth over Buddy’s birdcage. It wasn’t yet eight p.m., but Zach was coming over and she didn’t want any interruptions. The closing date for the Crockett’s deal quickly approached, and Virginia Winslow had requested her assistance on another case. Tess hadn’t managed more than a coffee date with Zach in three days.

She cleared clutter in the living room. Minutes later, a knock rapped at the door. Her heart danced as she let him in.

“Hi, Zach.” He wore his usual after-renovations uniform—jeans and an old, comfy T-shirt.

He looked amazing.

“Hey, babe.” He kissed her and placed a large paper bag on the kitchen counter. “Finally, your place. I haven’t been here since we worked on the business plan.”