Meant to Be: Southern Heat Series (20 page)

S
ydney watched
as Mitch brought the bowls of ice cream. The expression on his face mesmerized her. She wanted to believe it was love, but he’d been so clear that love and commitment weren’t in his future. She desperately wished she could change that. Not just because she loved him despite all her attempts to keep her heart in check, but also because he was a man who deserved to be loved. She wanted to soothe away the hurt and grief and guilt. She wanted to help him live life fully. She had to believe it was what his friend Brian would have wanted for him.

He sat with her on the floor, next to the coffee table in front of the fireplace. “There’s lots more, so eat up.”

“So you really had ice cream for dinner growing up?”

“Whenever the power went out. Lexie and I would make forts, and my dad would put on shadow puppet plays with the flashlight.”

Sydney’s heart filled at the image of a young Mitch and Lexie. What a wonderful childhood. Had he really given up the idea that he could have the same as an adult? She scooped up some ice cream and the chocolate cooled her tongue. “I think eating ice cream when the power is out is a good rule. What about the winter? Does the power go out then too?”

“Sometimes, and we’d still eat ice cream and make forts. If it was out for more than a day, we camped out in the living room. My dad would keep a fire going in the fireplace and we roasted marshmallows to make s'mores.”

Did he realize how happy he looked telling the story? She wanted to tell him she wanted to do those things with her kids, their kids, but didn’t want to spoil the moment. She’d agreed to an affair and she’d stick to her agreement.

“Do have any childhood stories?”

She had nice memories, but none like Mitch’s. “When I needed to get away to think as a kid, I went to the Balto statue in Central Park.”

“Balto? The cartoon dog?”

Sydney frowned. “He was a real dog first, who helped deliver medicine in Nome, Alaska. It’s the route of the Iditarod.”

Mitch grinned. “I know what Balto and the Iditarod are.”

“Yeah, from a cartoon.”

“But I know him. What’s the deal with the unicorn cookies?”

She laughed. “I had a patient who had them and her child shared one with me. I was hooked.”

“We should’ve put them on the ice cream.”

“I think everything is just fine as it is.”

He nodded toward the fireplace. “That’s nice.”

“Thank you. I wasn’t sure how you wanted them.”

He gave her an amused look. “Sydney and her rules.”

She felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment, but she tried to look stern when she said, “There’s something to be said for order.”

He set his bowl aside. “When a romantic setting is created, the rule is that it needs to be fully utilized.”

“Really?” Her heart rate kicked into high gear at his sensual tone and the use of the word “romantic.” Did it mean he felt more than friendship and lust?

He took her bowl, setting it on the coffee table. “Uh huh.”

Outside, thunder rumbled, showing no signs of calming. The rain pelted the roof. Inside, candles flickered, flashing in his green, sensuous eyes.

His hand reached around to the back of her neck and pulled her to him in a kiss. His lips and tongue were cold, until he started brushing them across her mouth, his tongue sweeping inside in a delicious dance. Then it was hot. Kissing Mitch had quickly vaulted to the top of Sydney’s favorite things to do. It had been that way in college, but this was even better. Now that she knew what it was like to be without him, she never wanted to do it again. She’d been with other men, but none had sent fierce need spiking through her body with a single sweep of his tongue.

Mitch’s kiss both soothed and agitated. It heated her body, turning her blood to liquid heat, making her go pliant. At the same time, it built tension, coiling between her legs, creating an edgy, desperate need for attention, for release.

He must have felt it too because, a few moments later, she was out of her clothes, and his hands and lips were everywhere. It would have been easy to surrender to him, but she wanted to touch and taste. Her hands weren’t as sure as his when it came to disrobing, but she managed to get his shirt off and immediately her lips slid across his neck, kissing the scars from Iraq, wanting to soothe as well as pleasure. He moaned as she cascaded kisses lower, flicking her tongue over his nipples before sucking them between her lips. His fingers threaded her hair and held her head to him.

“Ah, Sydney. What you do to me.” His words encouraged her, made her feel a feminine power she’d never felt before.

“Tell me.”

He jerked and brought his gaze to hers. A feral desire danced in his eyes. “I’ll show and tell.”

Her heart rate jumped, thrilled at what his eyes and words promised. In a rush, they removed the last of their clothes. She barely had her panties off when he hauled her over him to straddle his hips, his arms banding around her, as his head bent, taking the taut peak of her breast between his lips.

A long hiss escaped her lips. Each tug of her breast sent sensations straight to her center. Need built and coiled, tighter and tighter, until she couldn’t think of anything but having him inside her. She wrapped her legs around him and used them to move her pelvis closer to satisfaction. Reaching between them, she wrapped her fingers around him.

“You make me want you, Syd. God, how I want you.” He kissed her again. It was nearly perfect, if only she could complete the bond. She shifted her hips again. Ready to beg if she had to.

His hands went to her hips and guided her.

“Mitch.” The moment was almost there.

He swore and pushed her hips back. She protested with a groan and fought to regain her position.

“I need you.” Her words tore out of her in a frustrated groan.

“Condom.”

She barely heard him, his voice was so strained and harsh. He tried to disentangle their bodies, and she stopped him.

“Sydney.” He let out a growl, his head dropping to her chest, as he heaved in breaths.

She was on the pill, and for several beats, she was ready to throw caution to the wind. She loved and trusted him. Believed him when he’d said he’d used a condom with the other women he’d been with. Somehow, the urgency subsided enough so she could focus on him. She framed his face with her hands, capturing his gaze with hers. Would he see she loved him? Feel that she loved him? Recognize that she trusted him?

His green eyes clouded with desire, and for a moment, she thought he understood. But his hands held her hips firmly away from where they desperately wanted to be.

“Not in the throes of passion.” His teeth gritted, and with a growl, he reached for his pants.

He was right, of course. As a doctor, she ought to know better. And yet, her love, her trust in him, was soul deep

His hands shook as he sheathed himself. His fingers threaded her hair and he pulled her lips to his in a scorching kiss that seared all her senses.

“Take what you want, Syd.” He murmured as his lips trailed down her neck, until they found purchase on the hard pearl of her breast.

“I want you.” She arched, offering herself, relishing the magnificent things his mouth was doing to her. She wished he understood her desire for him was more than sexual release. She settled over him and slid down, until he filled her. The feel of him inside her, pulsing, throbbing, was a perfection she’d never experienced, not even during their relationship in college.

She wished she could savor the moment, but her body was too impatient, too greedy. She couldn’t wait any longer. She rocked against him, her body massaging his thick arousal as her orgasm built and readied.

“I can feel you.” His erotic words made her clench again, causing his breath to hitch. One of his hands slid from her hip over her thigh. “I want to feel you come around me, Syd.”

Yes
ran like a mantra through her mind. His thumb dipped between her thighs and brushed over her sensitive nub.

“Come for me, Syd. Come hard.”

His thumb pressed, his lips suckled her breast, but it wasn’t needed. His words alone rocketed her to the stars, her release like a starburst, a flash of light radiating to every neuron in her body. She cried out, her hips moving of their own volition to draw out the pleasure. The friction of him, hard, hot, and sliding in and out.

As she came down from the high, she was vaguely aware he hadn’t joined her. She opened her eyes to find him watching her, a mixture of awe and something else she couldn’t identify, but hoped was love. Before she could ask him if he was okay and why he hadn’t come, he rolled her underneath him. His body spread over hers, covering her completely, lying skin to skin, heat to heat.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“Careful. You keep looking at me like that and I might think I matter to you.”

He dipped his head and kissed her, soft and tender. It was in contrast to the desperate, needy kisses he usually gave. His lips trailed from her mouth, along her jaw to her ear. “You matter.” He took her hands and lifted them over her head, holding them there palm to palm.

He started to move, slow, smooth, and delicious. His green gaze held hers, filled with an emotion she was afraid she was reading wrong. Maybe it wasn’t love. But it was something more than casual. Tears built, but she blinked them back, not wanting him to think something was wrong.

“Come for me again.” He kissed her and moved in and out of her. His hands flexed and gripped hers. Not even when they’d been together in college had sex been so intense and emotional. Because this wasn’t sex. He was making love to her. She made love back, matching the movement of her hips to his, in a dance uniquely theirs. She kissed him with equal parts love and desire. She gripped his hands and held them tight. She focused on the feel of him, sliding in and out, the friction building and building, feeling him grow and lengthen inside her.

“Sydney. Come.” His breath was harsh as his hips picked up the pace.

She’d give him anything. Anything. She shifted, tilting her hips so when he drove in, he hit that one exquisite spot. And when he did, she let herself go. Her orgasm washed through her like the spring storm outside: clean, intense, and beautiful.

She was still riding the storm when Mitch let out a feral growl and pumped deep, hard, and fast until he collapsed on her. She held him and knew it was hopeless to try and pretend she could keep herself from loving him. Instead, she placed a kiss on his cheek and gave herself over to him — body, heart, and soul.

S
ydney was completely
boneless and blissfully happy. The only fly in the ointment, as southerners would say, was that she couldn’t tell him what was in her heart.

“You okay?”

She turned her head, Mitch’s dazzling green eyes, sated and beautiful, stared back at her as they lay side by side on the floor of his living room.

She nodded, too spent to manage speaking.

He rolled to his side, his hand stroking down her abdomen. When her eyes widened, he laughed. “We’ll rest. I just like touching you.”

“I like you touching me.”

He watched his hand as he grazed it over her nipple, which hardened again.

“I’m on the pill.”

“I figured that, when you were about to ravish me without protection.” He smiled. “But, it seemed smarter to make that decision when we weren’t so desperate.”

“You’re right. Thank you for maintaining a level head.” Although she couldn’t stop the feeling that maybe his decision was because he didn’t trust her or didn’t want to be with her long term. A man who didn’t want commitment with a woman wouldn’t want to risk her having his child.

“I’m clean and I can get records to prove it.”

She smiled, running her fingers through his bronze waves. “I can get them too.”

He nodded. “Until then, I’m going to get my box of condoms and bring them out here.”

“A campout?”

“It’s a perfect night for one.”

“Before we get to using all the condoms in your box.”

He grinned at her and waggled his brows, making her laugh.

“Did you learn anything today about who attacked Jenny?”

He sighed. “No. I have someone looking at traffic cams to see if there were any suspicious vehicles. Nothing was left at the scene, and Jenny hasn’t remembered anything significant. Detective Fletcher hasn’t shared anything new from his end, but he said he’d go back and look at Doctor Singer.”

“So it will be like before? It won’t be solved?” Her chest tightened at the thought she’d have to continue to look over her shoulder, and possibly put people she cared about in danger.

His fingers caressed her face, pushing a tendril of her hair behind her ear. “I’ll keep looking.” He took a deep breath. “But I’ll need to talk with Patrick and Jagger again.”

She bit her lip, hating that Patrick would be subjected to another interrogation. She couldn’t even bring herself to believe Jagger wanted to hurt her.

“I thought they had alibis.”

“They’ve told me what they were doing, but now I’m going to push. I’ll work to see if we can verify or disprove Patrick was wondering around Washington. Jagger will be harder, as I don’t think there’s anyone else on the farm. But maybe a neighbor drove by or the mailman saw him there.”