Loving Bailey (18 page)

He grabbed her hips, pulling her tight
against his and ground into her, relishing the way her gasp of
breath thrust her breasts toward him. Leaning closer, he kissed the
tender skin under her jaw, breathing in her spicy floral scent
before rolling her onto the sofa and switching places with her. She
sank into the soft cushion and he slid to his knees on the floor
between her legs.

Her lips were parted and her cheeks flushed
as she watched him with eyes turned dark chocolate. He reached for
the button on her jeans and felt the fine trembling of her stomach
under the backs of his fingers. She was so responsive to his touch.
It drove him crazy and made him want to see how far he could take
her. With unsteady fingers, he popped the button on her jeans and
peeled them open, exposing the soft skin of her belly and – sweet
Jesus – everything else.

No panties. Somewhere along the way, she’d
lost her panties.

Swallowing hard and praying for calm, he
hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her jeans and tugged them off
her hips and down her legs. He froze, his breath caught in his
throat. For the second time that night Bailey lay stretched out
underneath him, naked and hungry.

For him. Just for him.

This time he’d do things right and make sure
he gave her every bit of pleasure he could.

Bailey looked down her naked body at Trace
kneeling on the floor in front of her. There was no way to hide how
much she wanted him. She was completely exposed. It should have
made her feel vulnerable, but everything he’d done since they’d
come back into the house had been to reassure her of how much he
wanted her. And God, she wanted him.

He touched her, tasted her and every nerve in
her body sang to life. One kiss and he’d taken her back to the peak
of her desire.

While she watched, he spanned her hips with
his hands, his thumbs grazing the mound of her sex. He used the
rough pads of his thumbs to spread her open for him. And then he
bent to kiss her and the tension inside her shattered, dissolving
into the feeling of his mouth on her most intimate, sensitive skin.
He licked, nipped and sucked as she twisted and writhed not sure
whether she was trying to get away from the intense pleasure or
force herself closer to the heat of his mouth.

With one strong hand he pinned her to the
couch, while his mouth kept up the delicious torture, winding her
tighter and tighter.

“Please, please,” she chanted, no longer sure
what she was asking him for. She just knew she needed more. More of
him. Something. God.

She felt his low growl vibrate against her
aching flesh, starting another wave of sensations. Keeping his lips
on her clit, he slowly slid a finger through her wet folds and
inside her. Her inner muscles contracted against the invasion and
she moaned as the coils of pleasure wound tighter. Instead of
thrusting, he hooked his finger and rubbed gentle arcs in her tight
passage. The combination of his hand and mouth had her back bowing
and her breath coming in gasps, and she clutched at his shoulders,
feeling his muscles bunch under her hands.

When he slid a second finger beside the
first, she thought she’d shatter with the pleasure of it. And when
he flicked his tongue back and forth over her clit, she did,
screaming his name as the climax whipped through her.

He stayed with her, pressing gentle kisses on
the inside of her thighs, on the soft mound of her belly, waiting
until the climax waned before he slipped his fingers from her body.
As he straightened, she reached for him, pulling him in for a kiss.
Tasting herself on his lips. She tugged, yanking open the buttons
of his shirt, and pushed the smooth cotton warm from his body off
his strong shoulders.

She let her hands play over the smooth planes
of his chest and palm the tight points of his nipples. He sucked in
a breath, his chest rising under her fingers and a warm flush
flowed through her at his reaction. Kissing her way along his jaw,
she nipped at the tender skin behind his ear.

“Make love to me, Trace,” she murmured the
words against his ear and was rewarded when he drew in a shaky
breath.

He pulled back enough to look at her, his
gaze searching her face. “Are you sure?”

“God, yes. Now please,” she said, reaching
for his already open waistband.

She slid her hand into his jeans and found
him naked under the denim, the hard length of his erection
straining against her hand.

“Next time, baby,” he said drawing out her
hand. “I want you so much. And God, I want to take my time loving
you.”

His words started the ribbons of pleasure all
over again. Hearing him say loving you even though it wasn’t an I
love you made her heart swell. Naked with him like this, she
couldn’t lie to herself or hide her feelings. She’d loved him for
years, but being this close to him – this intimate – made it more
real, and she wanted more than anything for him to feel the same
way. For him to stop guarding himself and let her in.

As she watched, Trace stood, reaching in his
pocket for a condom before he slid his jeans off his hips and
stepped out of them. His cock sprang free and she bit her lip in
anticipation, looking up when she heard his strangled groan.

“Jesus, Bailey, you’ve got to stop looking at
me like that or this will be over before we even start.”

“Well then hurry,” she said, her teasing
turning into an aching need when he knelt in front of her and
pressed the tip of his hard cock against her swollen opening. Her
gaze caught his and she watched control and determination turn into
a look of pure pleasure in his gray eyes as he pressed into her one
slow inch at a time. There was no pain just an overwhelming need
and aching fullness as he slid deeper. His gaze never left her
face, watching her response and she saw in his eyes the love she
knew was reflected in her own. Her breath caught in her throat and
deep inside her in some previous untouched place she felt more than
their bodies join.

This. This is what they meant when they said
making love, she thought.

She slid forward on the sofa, clutching his
shoulders, needing to be closer to him. And then he started to
move. Every thrust of his hips and shift of his body coiled her
body tighter in a never ending ribbon of pleasure. She rode the
incredible feeling of fullness as one orgasm wove into two. Waves
of pleasure broke over her as her body spasmed around his. When she
sobbed his name for the second time, she leaned back to watch his
face as he gave in to his own pleasure, the rhythm of his hips
becoming erratic as he thrust into her. His lips parted in a soft O
of satisfaction and release, and she found as much pleasure in his
climax as she had in her own.

Trace couldn’t stop touching her, a hand on
her hip or cupping her breast as he nestled her against him,
wrapping his body around hers. Now that he had her in his bed and
in his arms he had no intention of letting her go. Loving Bailey
was what he’d been born to do. It was as much a part of him as
tilling the soil and nurturing seedlings from the earth.

He couldn’t stop if he wanted to.

Tomorrow he’d make plans, show her how he
felt. Just because he couldn’t say the words out loud tonight
didn’t make them any less true. He pulled her in tighter to him,
loving the way her body fit with his. Her head tucked under his
chin. His arm around her waist. The swell of her sweet ass pressed
against his groin. It was like she’d been made just for him.

He held her in his arms, curling around her
under the covers and willed his mind quiet to match the slow steady
beat of his heart. She had to be tired and probably sore. Didn’t
that happen the first time. God, just thinking about him had him
sucking in air. He’d been Bailey’s first – her only. He’d never
expected it, would’ve loved her if she’d had dozens of lovers, but
he couldn’t stop himself from loving the fact that he’d been the
only one.

His cock started to swell in response to his
thoughts, nudging the cleft of her butt. Forcing himself to keep
his touch light and undemanding, he rested his arm under her
breasts and started running through state capitols in his head.
Bailey was the one who changed things. She wriggled back against
him, parting her thighs and resting her leg over his. She shifted
just enough to let his cock slip between her legs and wedge along
the slick seam of her sex.

Fuck, there weren’t enough states in the
Union or Confederacy to keep him from taking her again when she
moved like that.

“Bailey, honey, I thought you were tired.” He
murmured the words into her dark curls, trying to ignore the slide
of her – dear God – wet sex along the length of him.

“Now whatever gave you that idea, Campbell?”
She reached down, catching his hand and bringing it to her lips.
She kissed his palm, a soft tender touch which shot heat through
his body. When her teeth grazed the pad of his thumb, he inhaled,
nostrils flaring as his cock jumped in response.

Nope, not enough states and definitely not
sleeping.

He slid his free hand up her body to cup her
breast, grinning when he brushed her nipple with his thumb and felt
her gasp. Putting just enough space between them so he could guide
her onto her back, Trace reclaimed his hand and propped himself up
on his elbow.

“So not tired,” he said, tracing feather
light circles around the rosy tip of her nipple with his
fingertips.

“Nope.” She swallowed hard as he moved from
one breast to the other, leaving a trail of pebbled flesh in the
wake of his touch.

“Good.” He bent and drew one of the tight
peaks into his mouth, suckling her as her back bowed and her breath
came in gasps..

“Definitely not tired,” she said sounding
breathless. “I think we should do that sex thing again. Just to
make sure I’ve got it right.” She pulled her bottom lip between her
teeth. “If you’re up for it.”

He rolled on top of her, holding himself up
with his forearms and covering her with his body. “I’m up for it,”
he said, rolling his hips into the V of her body and catching her
surprised gasp with his kiss.

This time when, they made love, he took his
time, drawing out every stroke of his body into hers until her skin
flushed and she trembled beneath him. When she came apart he looked
down and saw what he prayed was love shining in her eyes. He tucked
her head against his chest, holding her as his own climax rolled
over him.

It wasn’t until she slept in his arms that he
let himself say the words he’d been feeling.

“I love you, Bailey.”

Bailey pulled into the gravel lot behind her
parents’ house at a quarter past nine. Fifteen minutes late. She
was never late for anything – hadn’t been since she was a kid – but
she couldn’t seem to make herself crawl out of Trace’s bed that
morning. Since the night she and Trace made love it felt like they
were tied to each other with invisible bands.

They’d spent every night together, making
love over and over and then falling asleep curled under his big
quilt. And late at night, cocooned in the dark, she managed to
escape the worry for her brother and the stress of the restaurant
and dissolve in the safety of his arms.

He hadn’t told her he loved her, but he
showed her with his body, giving her more pleasure than she’d
thought was possible. Her body bloomed under his care, opening and
glowing like the peonies he grew. Making love with Trace was just
that – together they made love grow.

A sharp rap on the driver’s side window
pulled her out of her thoughts. Taylor stood beside the car, arms
crossed and looking down at her, her eyebrows raised in silent
question. Bailey shut off the car and climbed out.

“You’re late,” said Taylor.

“Sorry, I had trouble getting out of bed this
morning.” As she spoke the words her mind flashed back to Trace,
eyes heavily lidded with desire, reaching for her from the pile of
rumpled sheets.

“What’s wrong with you?” asked Taylor, giving
her a little shake.

“Nothing. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me. Rachel’s the one
who’s going to kill you if we’re late. Come on, everyone else is
here already.”

Before they made it to the back porch, the
door opened and Autumn and her sister, Summer, came out.

“Do you need anything from the house?” Autumn
asked, handing Taylor her purse.

“No,” said Bailey. She hugged the woman she’d
already started to think of as a sister. “My God, you’re going to
be a beautiful bride,” she said, pulling back to take in the
stylish blush colored dress with the cinched waist and squared
sweetheart neckline Autumn wore. “How in the world did my brother
manage to get you to say yes? You really could do so much
better.”

“I know,” Autumn said with a sigh and a wink.
“But I love him. Can’t be helped. Come on. We better go. I don’t
want to face Rachel if we’re late.”

The women started toward the waiting
Expedition Bailey managed to miss noticing on her way in. Yeesh,
she was so distracted she was a menace. A man in black pants and a
black golf shirt climbed out of the driver’s side and held open the
door for them.

“Good morning, ladies,” he said with a nod.
“Ready to go?”

“Whose idea was he,” Bailey asked, keeping
her voice low enough for just Taylor to hear.

“Rachel’s. And I think Jude had something to
do with it. Don’t knock it. It means champagne at the bridal shop
and lunch with no designated driver.”

“A lot to love about that plan,” said Bailey,
climbing into the huge SUV.

Autumn and her sister were already sitting in
the third row, and Bailey smiled at the pretty blonde woman who
seemed more animated every time she saw her. The first time they’d
met at a family picnic she’d been so quiet, Bailey assumed she was
shy. She was glad Summer seemed to be getting more comfortable.