Hidden Summit (9 page)

“It’s really too soon to tell.” He parked the truck in front of her little house. He turned in his seat and faced her. “Let me come in, Les,” he said.

“Oh, right. The making out part,” she teased.

“Or coffee,” he said. “But I’m not done yet. Are you?”

“I am not,” she said, surprisingly happy about it.

He came around the truck to help her out. He lifted her to the ground. His arm around her waist both supported and hurried her, and when they were inside the house with the door closed, he swept her up to him, his lips on her lips, kissing her deeply once again as though he’d waited all night to do it. She dropped her purse on the floor and gave herself over to this kiss, wondering how she’d made it this long without it.

And that fast she decided—she was going to enjoy her life rather than subject herself to some kind of torture of denial to avoid ever being hurt again. If he wanted to devour her with these fabulous kisses, and more, she’d just have to endure it.

He backed off the littlest bit and said, “You have a very good mouth for this. Perfect, I think.”

“Are you just getting it out of the way again?” she asked.

“Nope. Just getting started. Do you have to listen to messages or let the cat out or anything?”

She shook her head. “Are we going to stand inside the door and make out?”

“I could. Where do you want to make out?”

She thought about saying
the bed.
Or
the shower.
Or maybe
up against a wall?
“Sofa?” she asked.

“You don’t sound too sure,” he said, slipping the blazer from her shoulders. He shed his lightweight jacket and tossed them both on the living room chair. Taking her hand, he led her to the couch. “Do you need anything? A drink? A little more conversation? How’s the mustache? Too bristly?”

She just shook her head, bringing a chuckle out of him. Once she was seated on the sofa he knelt on one knee and helped her out of her boots. Then he sat down and took off his. And then he had her in his arms again pulling her across his lap, going after her mouth with all his heat and power.

“I don’t want to jinx this,” he whispered, “but you’re a natural.”

“Are you saying I’ve missed my calling?”

He reclined with her on the sofa. “I’m saying, you’re very tasty and desirable and I could do this clear into next week.”

Then, with a hand on her butt pulling her against him, he pressed into her. She chuckled against his lips. “No, you can’t,” she said. He was hard. Ready. “All you want is sex.”

He grew still and serious. He gave her lips a little peck. Then he kissed her nose. “No, Les. That’s not all. But it’s not a bad place to start.”

Leslie could remember making out, but she certainly couldn’t remember anything like this. And she’d never been romanced this way—with a truckload of flowers and comments like,
that’s not all, but it’s not a bad place to start.
Although Conner was a large man, they somehow managed to lie on the couch together, bodies pressed close, mouths pressed closer. And hands, gliding up and down bodies. Leslie kissed his mouth, his chin, his brooding eyebrows, his cheeks, the place where his dimple would be when he smiled. She licked his upper lip, touching the mustache with her tongue, and made him moan.

“You like that, I think,” he said.

“I like it,” she confirmed. She tugged his shirt out of his pants so she could run her hands up his hard belly and over his sculptured chest. “You’re hard everywhere.”

He unbuttoned her crisp white shirt to find a very sexy, transparent lace bra. “And you’re soft everywhere. Did you wear this for me?” He bent his head and kissed the lace.

“I might’ve, yes. I wasn’t sure what would happen, but I did think about having the right underwear for it.”

His big hand slid down to the crotch of her jeans. “I can’t wait to see the matching panties.”

“One thing at a time.”

“You’re right.” He popped the front latch of her bra and enjoyed himself for a little while with her breasts, first fondling and then kissing and finally sucking. He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. “How’s that bristle on your breasts?”

“It’s very good,” she said breathlessly, without opening her eyes.

“Les, are we gonna get naked?”

“You mean more naked?”

“It’s up to you,” he said. “And if the answer is yes, let’s trade this couch in for a bed. If the answer is no, let’s put on the coffee.”

“I’m very nervous. I wonder if I’ve thought it through....”

He chuckled and ran a rough finger down her chest all the way to her navel. “You have no reason to be nervous. And I have a couple of brand-new condoms in my pocket. One week old.”

“You planned this?”

“No, sweetheart. I wanted this. Hoped for this. Wanted to be prepared for this.”

She bit her bottom lip for a second. “Will we still be friends after?” she asked in a soft voice.

“Oh, Leslie, better friends, I hope. Are you worried I’m just here for the sex? Because I’m here for the sex with you, but only because it’s you. I haven’t felt this in a long time. I was a little afraid I’d never feel it again. But…” He started to pull her shirt closed over her breasts. “I want you to be ready. This has to be about both of us, not just one of us. We can put on the coffee....”

She grabbed his wrists. “I’m nervous, but I’m ready.”

“Are you nervous because it’s me?”

“Because it’s been so long and because I really like you. And because I’ve never done anything like this before, this ‘friends with benefits’ kind of thing.”

“It’s more than that,” he said. “I think it’s friends with chemistry. You really turn me on.” He nuzzled her neck with a low purr that almost turned into a growl. “I’m going to take very good care of you, Leslie.”

“What if I don’t take real good care of you?” she asked him.

He looked surprised. “Not possible.” He put his lips against hers, and then in a remarkable move, never breaking the kiss, he shifted her weight until she was sitting on his lap again. With one arm behind her and the other under her knees, he lifted her. “Which way?”

“Left,” she said.

When he reached her bedroom, he stood at the side of the bed, holding her, looking down. The comforter was folded back, the pillows fluffed. “Perfect,” he said. And he slowly lowered her.

Leslie lay on her bed in her jeans, socks and opened blouse and watched as Conner went through the ritual of emptying his pockets onto the bedside table. He took out condoms and wallet; his watch joined them. Then he pulled off his shirt and opened his belt. It was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen, his process of getting ready for her. But it was hard to concentrate. He had an enormous bulge in his dress pants. And when he lowered the pants, leaving only black boxer briefs, it was all she could do not to gasp.

He knelt on the bed and gently touched her, his fingertips gliding over her lips, then her neck and breasts, her belly. Then he opened her jeans and gave them a little tug. She lifted up so he could draw them off, and he groaned at the sight of her transparent lace panties. He tossed the jeans and ran a finger around the elastic. “God,” he muttered.

She reached for the waistband of his briefs. “Come on,” she said. “I’m cold.”

“You won’t be cold for long,” he said. And he quickly got rid of his boxers, removing the mystery. She bit on her lower lip to keep from saying,
Wow.
It was a little intimidating. Very large. Very hard.

He sat down on the bed and pulled her into a sitting position. He pushed the opened blouse and unsnapped bra over her shoulders. “Let’s get rid of this,” he said, his voice gravelly.

“And these?” she asked, her hands going to her panties.

“Not yet,” he said. “Not yet.” He ran his finger under the elastic again. “Let me play with these awhile. God, Leslie. What an incredible beauty you are.”

“Because I say no to pie,” she weakly informed him.

“No, you can still take on plenty of pie and be beautiful. But, my God, I’m losing my mind.” He ran his fingers under the elastic at her legs, first one, then the other. “Hmm, you’re killing me.”

“We can take them off,” she offered.

“Not yet,” he said. “Let me have my fun.” And then his hands were spreading her, and his fingers were moving into that very personal territory beneath the panties. Of course she was completely ready. Swollen and hot and wet. He leaned down to her lips just as he let one finger slide into her, and his kiss carried a deep throaty moan with it. “Man, I’m having a very hard time waiting for you.”

“You don’t have to wait,” she offered. And without meaning to, without planning to, her pelvis rose into his hand. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to wait long.”

“Good,” he said, nibbling at her lips. “Good.” He sat up again and slowly, tenderly, drew down those lace panties. She was waxed except for a small patch on her pubis. He met her eyes, smiled, lifted one brow. “Maybe I should see your barber.”

She reached out and touched his mustache. “Don’t you dare.”

He tossed the panties and reclined, pulling her into his arms, holding her close. His hand was on her again, now rubbing that sensitive little bump that brought all the joy of the universe to her. “Stop,” she whispered. “I can’t wait if you do that.”

“Ready?”

“I’ve been ready since you brought me lantana in three colors.”

His laugh was a deep rumble. “I knew when it got down to it, you were easy.” He rubbed more ferociously. He put a finger inside and rubbed with his thumb.

She reached for him, filled her hand with him and said, “So, you wanna play dirty?” She stroked him. Not gently. She brought deep noises from him, and he pinched his eyes closed.

He kissed her again, deeply, wetly. “Dirty is the only way I want to play.” But he pulled his hands and lips away and went after that condom, suiting up. Then he covered her body with his, holding his massive weight off her. With a gentle knee, he parted her legs. “I just can’t right now. I’m on a pretty short leash.” And again he touched her with his fingers, getting her hotter than hot.

With slow and smooth searching, he found her and let himself inside just a small amount, checking her reaction. She nodded at him, and he pushed in a little more. Again she nodded and again he gave her more. Then he took her mouth, his tongue playing with hers, and he slid all the way in. She gasped.

“Okay?” he asked her.

“God,” she whispered. “Okay,” she said weakly.

“Tell me if it’s not comfortable. Don’t put up with anything that feels wrong.”

“God,” she said again. “It feels right....”

And she saw the crinkles at the corners of his eyes along with his smile. Then he began to move in and out, slowly. Too slowly. He kissed his way down her neck, across her collarbone, over her breast and pulled a nipple into his mouth. In and out.

She rose against him. “More.”

“Try this,” came his throaty whisper. “Just try it this way. Let me get you there nice and easy. Let it build. Then when it’s time—”

“Oh, God, it’s time....” she nearly cried, pushing against him.

“You’re killing me,” he told her. “Almost time…”

“Harder,” she asked in a whimper. She couldn’t believe it was her! She’d never cried out for what she wanted before! “Faster!”

And he laughed deep in his throat. “Almost time,” he said, slowly and deeply invading, one long stroke at a time, torturing her.

She moaned and rose against him. Her knees bent, her heels dug into the bed, she whimpered and moaned again and again. A cry came from her, and he must have known that her orgasm was on him; his fingers found her most erogenous spot, his lips bruised hers in a hard, possessive kiss, and he pounded himself into her. Deeper and faster. And she broke apart, exploding all over him. He growled low and with appreciation. And then he said it. “God…
Leslie…
” It went on forever, the pleasure, the whimpering and growling, and she wasn’t quite done when he suddenly let go of her mouth, moved his lips to her nipple, and he grabbed her hips to plunge himself deep inside of her, holding her still but for his powerful throbbing. He groaned in ecstasy. She wasn’t sure where her orgasm ended and his began, and it was beyond anything she’d ever experienced before. Then he grabbed her chin in one big calloused hand, tilted her mouth toward his and took her mouth with almost the same force.

She thought it was a wonder she didn’t faint.

Seven

S
he felt herself smiling and yet on the verge of tears. He held the bulk of his weight off her, his eyes closed. Then his features slowly relaxed, and he kissed her several times, on the lips, the cheeks, the neck, chin, forehead. She reached up to his thick eyebrows with her fingertips and smoothed them, and he opened his eyes.

He took a deep breath. “That was the most amazing…”

“Oh, my God,” she said. “I had sex on the first date!”

“You and I had very good sex on the first date,” he said with a laugh. Then he frowned again and wiped a thumb along her temple. “Hey, forget what your mother said. It’s not a bad thing! We’ve been over this—it wasn’t really a first date! Are you crying?”

“Sorry… I might be a little emotional or something....”

“Leslie, was I rough? Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head. “You were wonderful. I think I might be a little crazy,” she said. “I can’t believe I was worried. I was so worried....” She gave a little hiccup of emotion.

“Because it was so long since the last time?” he asked.

“More than that,” she said. “Oh, Conner, you just can’t imagine the kinds of things I’ve believed about myself. That I wasn’t much of a lover, for one thing…”

“You can’t be serious. You put me on another planet....”

She laughed through a tear. “I’m just overthinking things again.” She put the palm of her hand against his cheek.

“Tell me,” he insisted.

“I’ve been told I…” She took a breath. “That I could be more interesting.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he said. “Whoever said that probably needed practice.”

“I’ve always wondered…you know…if that was one of the reasons…”

“That he strayed? That he left?” he asked.

She gave a weak little nod.

He laughed in spite of himself. “You’re wonderful, Leslie, you can trust me on this. You make love like a goddess. An angel. A very wild, wonderful angel.” He laughed again. “Jesus, what a mean way to undermine a woman’s confidence. From what I could tell, we worked together just great. Hmm?”

She let out a shaky breath. It was one of the most exciting, intense moments she’d ever had with a man, but she’d hold on to that information a little while. “Are you uncomfortable? Holding yourself up like this?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to move. Ever.”

“Me, either. I think it’s the mustache that makes the difference.”

“Oh, we haven’t even put the mustache to work yet.” She shivered, and he laughed, a low rumbling. She put her arms around his neck to hold him and just closed her eyes, comfortable and relaxed like never before. “Do you need to fall asleep?” he asked.

“Nope. Not tired.”

“Good. I’m not tired, either,” he said. “I’d like to check and see if it can get better than perfect....”

Her eyes opened in surprise. “Really?”

“Oh, really,” he said. And then he clutched her close and rolled with her until they were on their sides, still locked together.

In the early morning, Conner pulled Leslie close and nuzzled her, kissing the back of her neck. She mewled and snuggled closer, and he splayed a big hand over her belly. He wanted her again, but he didn’t want to wear her out. They’d made love three times in the night, and while it seemed she slept, curled up against him, he didn’t sleep much. Instead, his mind was working.

She was perfect. Sweet, funny, passionate, smart. He couldn’t imagine what more a man could want. She should want a lot more than him, that was his next thought. And he was a little angry, too. He hoped it hadn’t shown, but the very idea that a man would tell her she wasn’t enough, it roared inside him with a carefully held fury. He knew who that would have been. She hadn’t been with many men. It would have been the cheating ex, the bastard. It made Conner want to mess up his face because it was becoming clearer by the hour just how much that asshole had hurt her. And hurt her. And hurt her.

People hadn’t acknowledged her hurt; they’d wanted her to move on. People did that because they get tired of hearing about it. No one ever knew what to say or how to help. He’d gotten a lot of sympathy after Samantha, but then they’d divorced, she’d gone into a treatment facility in another state, and in the mind of his few supporters, it had been time for him to let go before he made them any more uncomfortable.

He and Leslie shared another trait—he, too, wondered how badly he’d been lacking that his wife had needed others, so many others. He hadn’t revealed that to anyone and probably never would, but it made a man wonder. He would have given her anything she wanted, everything she wanted.

But no more. Now he was all for getting past it and hoped Leslie felt the same about her situation.

He was holding in his arms one of the best reasons to move on he’d rubbed up against in a couple of years. And it surprised him that he had absolutely no doubts about her. He wasn’t the least bit afraid that he’d come home someday and find her bouncing up and down on the cable guy. In fact, Leslie was so different that he instantly knew if he’d met her first, his entire life would have been different.

In fact, he wanted her like he’d never wanted a woman,
including
his wife. But he’d be very good to her, and when the time came, he’d tell her the truth about his dilemma and leave because he valued his life. And the lives of his sister and nephews.

She turned in his arms, facing him, burrowing her face into his neck.

“I woke you,” he said. “I didn’t mean to, but I have to get up.”

She made a protesting noise and snuggled closer.

“I have to drive to my cabin, shower and change. It’s Monday morning.” He pushed her curls away from her eyes. “Maybe you should call in....”

She giggled a little. “Call in what? Orgasmed to death?”

“You did say you were dying at least once,” he reminded her.

“We’re putting framers on the new construction today. I have to go.” She lifted her head. “When will I see you now that we’re not working on the same site?”

“When do you want to see me?”

“Will I scare you off if I say soon?”

“I don’t scare easy. Want me to sleep with you tonight?” he asked, running a hand down her spine.

She nodded. “I’ll make us dinner. I’ll even buy a six-pack to keep in my refrigerator.”

“What if you make me too comfortable?” he asked. “Could be as bad as feeding a stray cat.”

“If you’re worried about getting too involved…”

He shook his head. “I don’t think we can get too involved—we’re both in this weird place, trying to overcome having been in even weirder places. But I’m not worried about it. When I first saw you, I knew you were special.”

“You thought I was involved with a married man!”

“I’m jaded. Cynical sometimes. I apologized for that, didn’t I?”

“Yes, quite nicely, I think. So…? Dinner?”

“Yes, tonight. I have to get up now.”

She slid a leg over his hip, wiggling closer. “It doesn’t feel like you want to leave me yet.”

He smiled and gave her a kiss. “I didn’t dare ask. Now lie back and let me make you really late for work....”

The next night, very unlike the way a typical man thinks, Conner was relieved that they made love only once. Superbly, but once. He had serious reasons to be suspicious of a woman who would take it to the obsessive level.

And a few nights later, because she had mentioned she liked it, he found himself stopping in Fortuna for Thai takeout to bring for dinner to her house. It was Conner’s intention to have a serious talk with Leslie over dinner—

But he was barely in the door before that plan changed. She was standing in the doorway wearing a pair of snug jeans, a blue chambray shirt opened almost to her waist with a little white tank under it. He caught that scent—soap and flowers. Her hair was all those dark blond, streaky curls that made her look so cute, and her cheeks were flushed, which made her look already ravished, and he said, “Oh, my Jesus…”

“What?” she asked.

“God, you turn me on. Just seeing you.”

“Is that the same as hello?” she asked with a smile.

“I don’t know. How fast can you get naked?”

“Conner,” she said and laughed. “Wanna tell me what’s in the bag?”

“Thai. It’s for dessert....”

“And the main course?”

“I’m thinking mustache rides.”

“I guess that means you missed me,” she said. And she took the bag off his hands, and no sooner had she deposited it in the kitchen, than she headed straight for her bedroom. He caught her there, spun her around and fell with her on the bed, covering her mouth in a searing kiss.

It was an hour before they could get to the Thai takeout, and when they finally did, they sat on her sofa. He had pulled on his jeans and T-shirt, and she wore a robe. She put the cartons on a tray between them, and they ate directly out of them—she using chopsticks while he had to have a fork.

“I can teach you to use chopsticks,” she offered.

“Why would I do that? Nah. But I wanted us to talk.”

“The talk?” she asked, digging into the Nam Sod—minced chicken with ginger, peanut and onions. “About expectations and stuff?”

His eyebrows lifted curiously. “You want to give me the talk?”

“I know how men think. You think that if I’ve slept with you, I’ll expect you to marry me. And you want to be sure I don’t.”

He tilted his head and thought about this. She was damn close. “Well, not exactly. Being with you is good—but I’m afraid I’m going to let you down. I have serious baggage. Things to overcome, work through, you know.”

“I know.”

“I should tell you about my ex-wife....”

“Only if you feel like it. I don’t think she has anything to do with me. With us.”

“Well, she might. You’re trying to get over a divorce after what you thought was a good eight-year marriage. My marriage lasted a year. I only knew Samantha for six months before we got married. And she cheated, too, but with something like a hundred guys....”

Leslie coughed and choked. Conner slapped her back until she recovered.

“I know. It’s a lot to swallow, no pun intended. I thought I had a great marriage, too. It worked for me. But my wife cheated, we had a confrontation and she said she was…” He paused. It was still hard to say. He cleared his throat. “She said she was a sex addict.”

Leslie’s eyes grew very large. “Is that so?” she asked cautiously.

He gave a nod. Then a shrug. “Maybe that’s correct, that’s what her problem was. My sister didn’t exactly forgive her, but she did kind of defend her, saying she was dealing with a compulsion. She went into a treatment program, though. I have no idea if it worked. She asked me to come to some kind of family week session so I could understand her and the disease, but I couldn’t. I was done. I said that I wasn’t family anymore and wouldn’t be. In the one year we were married, she was unfaithful more times than she could count. Or remember.”

“Oh, Conner, I’m really sorry.”

“So as you might expect, I have world-class trust issues. Not the way you think—I really don’t have a single problem trusting you. But I sure don’t trust me. I never thought I was the kind of guy who couldn’t see what was right in front of my face. I never suspected a thing. I never even had enough imagination to suspect something like what was going on right under my own nose.”

Leslie left her chopsticks standing in the Yum Woo Sen.

“Listen, I’ve been divorced almost two years and I’ve been completely checked and checked and rechecked,” he assured her. “There hasn’t been anyone since. I’m safe.” At least in that regard, he thought.

She was quiet for a moment. Finally she said, “It must have been awful.”

“I’m one of those guys like your old boss—I have strong feelings about that kind of commitment. My parents married for life. My sister married her husband for life, though his life was cut short way too early. I assumed any woman who made those promises meant them. I guess I can be naive. Put it another way—I had no idea how naive I could be.”

She smiled. “I know exactly how you feel.”

He smiled in spite of himself. “Well, you don’t know exactly. You caught a text message. I came home early and found her banging the kid who delivered bottled water.”

Leslie gulped, trying to imagine.

“When I think back about it, it’s pretty ironic. I actually delivered bottled water part-time during my one semester in college.” He snorted. “No one ever met me at the door naked.”

She let herself give a short laugh. “I guess she hasn’t been in touch.”

“There have been letters, but I didn’t open them, just put them right in the shredder. I had made it pretty clear to her it was over for me, no grudges, nothing. It was a lie, of course—I was mad and I was carrying a grudge. But really, she needed to pick up the pieces somewhere else.”

“I’m shocked,” she said. “I can’t imagine a woman attached to you even having enough desire leftover for another guy. You’re pretty efficient.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “Is this where I say thank you?”