My Sweet Valentine (12 page)

“I'm working on the rest of the house first. This is kinda his room. Tile is a lot easier to clean than carpet.”

“I bet.” She smiled and set the dog down and followed Allen into the living room. She liked the space and the colors he'd used. Light and clean. The fireplace was impressive, as was the sheer size of the rooms. He walked into the kitchen and rolled up his sleeves again.

“This will be a while. If you want, I have some old sweats you can change into. Your feet must be freezing.”

She looked down at her wet shoes. The numbness had been there so long, she'd almost forgotten the discomfort. The thought of peeling off her wet jeans and shoes sounded like heaven.

“Sounds great. Actually, if it's not too much to ask, can I use your shower?” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms.

“Sure.” He walked over to her. “I should have thought. You probably wanted to go home and—” She stopped him by putting her finger over his mouth.

“If I wanted to go home, I would be home.” Smiling, she reached up on her toes and placed a soft kiss on his mouth. “Now, point me in the direction of hot water and those sweats.”

What was he doing? He looked down at the pasta he was cooking and closed his eyes for a second. Sara was up in his shower, right now, naked and wet. And as far as he could tell, she had no plans of leaving for the night. Thank God!

“Okay, focus Allen.” He told himself. “Or you'll burn the spaghetti. If you can't make the easiest dish in the world, she may change her mind about you and ask to be taken home.” He shook his head clear of images of her in his shower, the bubbles from his shampoo running down her. Shaking his head again, he stirred the sauce.

Fifteen minutes later she walked down his stairs wearing an old pair of sweats from his SEAL days. They hung low on her hips and she'd rolled them several times to allow her feet to poke out from the bottom. The large t-shirt she wore matched the pants and hung halfway down to her knees.

She'd tied her hair up in a loose ponytail. Her face was clean and she had never looked better.

“Mmm, something smells wonderful. Spaghetti is my favorite dinner.” She leaned against the counter and watched him.

He felt nervous all of a sudden. So much so, he almost burned the rolls he'd heated up.

“Can I help?”

“No, just sit there and look gorgeous.” He waved towards the table, which he'd already set with his good china that consisted of two plates that matched and two non-plastic glasses. The salad he'd tossed from a pre-made bag sat in the biggest bowl he had.

He watched her hips sway as she walked over to the table and sat down, crossing her legs underneath her. She looked over at him and smiled, and he realized she knew he'd watched her.

Two could play at this game. While she'd been upstairs, he’d quickly gone into the mudroom and pulled on a clean shirt and pants. Walking over, he bent slowly and pulled the bread from the oven. When he looked again, he smiled, knowing her eyes had gone a little cloudy as she'd watched him move.

By the time he sat at the table, the food laid out in front of them, he was so worked up, he doubted he could take a bite. And if he was a good judge of her, he knew she felt the same way.

“Allen?” She sat there looking down at her food, not touching it.

“Sara?” His throat had gone dry. Then she was in his lap, her body next to his, her mouth on his. His hands gripped her hips as her fingers dug into his hair, pulling him closer. He shoved up from the table, knocking over the chair as he turned and pushed her against the wall, holding her still as his hands snaked under the shirt to touch her soft skin.

She moaned when his fingers brushed over her, causing her nipples to pucker. Her head fell back, exposing her neck as he slid his hands down and started to undo the string of the sweatpants.

“Are you sure?” he tried to say, but it ended up more as a moan.

She nodded her head over and over, then yanked his shirt over his head. She moaned when her eyes fell on his chest, then she pulled him closer and kissed him again. His fingers went under the wide waist of the sweats and he found her wet and ready for him. He almost stopped breathing as she started making little noises as he rubbed her. Then she was trying to yank his jeans off his hips.

“Hang on, just hang on. Let me think.” He tried to pull back.

She shook her head quickly. “No, now. No thinking.” She licked her lips and watched him from underneath her eyelashes. He would have done anything she'd asked at that moment. Pulling out the condom he'd shoved in his back pocket, he yanked down his jeans. He came back to her, holding her against the wall, his palms flat on either side of her head as he hovered over her lips. He ran his fingers down the side of her neck.

“It appears you have entirely too many clothes on.” He smiled and watched her eyes close.

He slowly pulled her shirt up, exposing her navel, then pulled it up even more as he exposed the soft skin over her ribs. Finally, when he’d pulled the shirt over her head, he leaned back and took in her beauty.

“Beautiful.” He ran a fingertip over her soft skin. “I've never seen anything so beautiful.”

“Allen, I'm burning up.” Her hands were beside her hips, flexing on his wall.

“Let me take care of you.” He leaned over and placed his mouth on her delicate skin. Her fingers gripped his hair as he tortured her with his mouth.

“Please,” she begged over and over.

He'd worked himself up so that when he opened his eyes, there was a haze over everything. She still wore his sweats and in one quick move, he had them pooled at her feet on the floor. He sheathed himself quickly and pushed inside hers. Twin moans sounded as he flexed his hips against hers.

“Sara,” he groaned as he held still.

“Please.” She gripped his hips and dug her nails into his back. “Please, Allen.”

He flexed and held his breath as they rushed to the finish together.

Sara listened to Allen's heart beating against her head and sighed. She was propped up against the wall of Allen's dining room, with a naked man holding her up. There had never been a more perfect moment in her life.

“Food's getting cold,” he mumbled against her hair and she couldn't help herself, she laughed.

“With all this heat in the room, it's a wonder everything isn't burnt.” He chuckled, then leaned back and placed a kiss on her nose.

“If you want to clean up…” He motioned towards the bathroom. She quickly pulled up the sweats and looked around for her shirt. She wasn't embarrassed of her body, but after cooling down, she’d realized the large windows in his living room were uncovered. She didn't know how close his nearest neighbor was.

He saw her looks and laughed. “Robert and Amelia's house is a quarter of a mile that way,” he pointed towards the fireplace, “through very thick woods.”

She smiled and found her shirt. “I'll be just a minute.” She rushed off towards the bathroom.

After dinner, she stood by the back sliding door as he tossed the ball to Beast in the back yard. The little dog didn't really get the whole bring it back thing yet, but Allen enjoyed chasing him in the light from his deck.

He started a fire in the fireplace and they made love again on the soft carpet. She fell asleep in his arms, wrapped in his warmth.

When she woke, the small dog licked her face and barked.

“No, Beast.” Allen said and snuggled his face deeper into her hair.

“I think he needs to go out.” She giggled as the dog licked her face again.

“Yeah, probably.” He groaned as he got up off the floor. “Remind me why we slept on the floor when there’s a perfectly good king-size bed upstairs?”

She laughed. “Because it was so very romantic.” She pulled the small blanket he'd grabbed over her and rolled over to look out the windows. “Oh look.” She sat up. “It's snowing.” She stood up and wrapped the blanket around her as he walked to the back door and opened it for the dog to rush out. Beast stopped dead when a snowflake landed on his nose. The tiny dog spun in circles and chased a few flakes before finally relieving himself, then he continued running around, chasing fat snowflakes.

After dressing, Sara convinced Allen to let her cook breakfast. When he came down, freshly showered, the cinnamon French toast was done. He swore it was the best he'd ever eaten. She was beginning to think he was biased. She quickly dressed in her clothes from yesterday, which Allen had thrown in the washer and dryer last night after dinner, then they headed into town. She had a mighty urge to bake.

When they got to the shop, everything looked better than it had last night. The building sat gleaming in the sunlight. Gone were the images of destruction from yesterday, replaced by the warmth of knowing the whole town was behind her.

“Are you sure you don't want to head home first?” Allen said when they stopped in front of the store.

Shaking her head, she smiled. “No, I've got an early morning delivery.” She looked at her watch and figured she had just enough time to open up before the truck would be there. “Besides, I have a few recipes I need to fine tune.”

“Anything involving chocolate?” Allen's eyebrows rose and he had a hopeful look on his face. She laughed.

“Stop by around noon. There should be something for you to try out.” She leaned over and kissed him quickly, but his arms came up and snaked around her, holding her tight and deepening the kiss until she was breathless. When she finally pulled back, she could see the heat in his eyes. She didn't know what she was going to do; she was quickly becoming addicted to him.