Write to Me (8 page)

Read Write to Me Online

Authors: Nona Raines

Tags: #Contemporary,Older Woman

BOOK: Write to Me
13.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Gloria held up her hand. “Stop.” She felt too trembly and lightheaded to hear any serious declarations. This thing between her and Bryan was still too new, too fragile to put a name to. She just wanted to enjoy the moment and the possibilities ahead.

She nodded at the dish he’d brought. “It looks so good. I can’t wait to taste it.”

“Take it home. It’s yours.”

“I’d rather share it with you.” She let her gaze tell him what else she’d like to share. “I have no plates to serve it on. But I think there’s—hold on.”

Behind the reception desk was a counter that held a coffee pot. Also on the counter, next to a container of creamer and a box of sugar packets, were some plastic spoons. She took one and came back around.

Using the plastic spoon, she scooped up a mound of custard and syrup, lifted it toward Bryan’s mouth.

“No.” He took the spoon from her. “You first.”

She opened her lips for his offering. The flavors of vanilla and caramel swirled and melted in her mouth. She closed her eyes and moaned.

“Good?” His voice was a low rumble.

“Mmm…” Her eyes fluttered open when his thumb brushed the corner of her mouth, swiping away a drop of sugar syrup. As he brought it to his mouth, she clutched his wrist. “No.” Their gazes locked. “Mine.”

Bryan went still as Gloria licked the sweet glaze from the pad of his thumb. He winced as she touched a sore spot.

“Oh!” She examined the red mark where his thumb met the palm of his hand. “What happened?”

The corner of his mouth hitched up. “Burned myself taking the pan out of the water bath. Stupid of me.”

“Poor thing.” She kissed the burn mark. “I hope you don’t get a blister.”

“It’s fine. I ran it under cold water, like you’re supposed to…” His words trailed off as though he’d forgotten what he was saying.

Gloria couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe as he closed in for a kiss. When he kissed her, all thoughts flew from her mind. Only their lips touched at first, their breaths mingling. It wasn’t enough. He drew her close, gently, as though afraid to break their fragile connection. As soon as her breasts nestled against his hard chest, he grew bolder, teasing her lips with his tongue. She gladly opened to him, offering the tastes of vanilla and caramel.

But Gloria didn’t stand passively and receive his kiss. She wanted him and would damn well let him know. Gripping his shoulders as their tongues caressed and played, she was an equal partner in their embrace, giving as good as she got.

When the kiss ended, she spooned up another bite of custard and fed it to Bryan. “Your turn.”

He smiled as he swallowed the mouthful. “Delicious, if I say so myself.”

“It would be better with coffee.”

“Yes,” he agreed. They both ignored the coffeemaker on the counter as their gazes locked. “There’s coffee at my place.”

That was all she wanted to hear. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Seven

Gloria and Bryan walked the few blocks to his place. How lovely to stroll down the sidewalk hand in hand. She’d had lovers over the years, but she couldn’t recall indulging in this simple pleasure with any of them. How long since she’d held a man’s hand, publicly acknowledging their relationship? Not since Emilio died.

He unlocked his door and pulled her in. “I lied before,” he told her just inside the doorway as she was about to close in for a kiss.

Her feet dragged to a stop. “Lied…”

“I don’t have coffee. Well, I do, but it’s instant.” He faked a clownish sad-puppy look of remorse.

Her eyes narrowed. “I hate instant coffee.” She waited just long enough to torture him. “It doesn’t matter. I forgot to bring the flan.”

He let out a puff of laughter. “Baby.” He grabbed her and swept her close. When their bodies collided, she felt enveloped in a sheet of flame.

Their kisses were passionate and fierce as they stumbled into his living room. In one last burst of sanity, Gloria broke free. “Bryan. Are you sure? Are you
really
sure?” She had to know that she wasn’t a temporary stand-in for another woman.

His forehead creased, then understanding lit his eyes. He strode to a small desk in a corner of the room and retrieved a piece of paper, holding it open to show her. The letter he’d written to Courtney, the one she’d found in the book of sonnets.

“This is the past.” He crumpled the note and let it fall into the wastebasket. “It’s over. I want to move on.”

She gazed at the wastebasket, then looked back up at him.

He extended his hand. “I want to move on with you.”

She took a step, then another. Warmth surged through her as she grasped his large hand and his fingers curled around hers.

****

With my body I thee worship.

Odd that this phrase, part of a religious wedding vow, would occur to Bryan now. His desire for Gloria had nothing to do with theology, everything to do with lust. One of the seven deadly sins.

Yet it felt reverent, too. He wanted to worship her body, take his time, and show her the appreciation and respect she deserved. As he led her into the bedroom, a beatific smile curved her lips, the smile of a sensuous, confident woman. A warm glow lit her eyes, signaling her complete trust. Her expression held no hesitation, no doubt.

He was the one who hesitated. He faltered in the bedroom doorway, suddenly struck by all the lies he’d told. He’d meant to come clean somehow, some way. Now was the perfect opportunity. But if he fessed up, he’d lose her. Lose this chance to be with her. So he made the bargain all liars make.

God, let me get by this once, and I swear I’ll never do it again.

He prayed for Gloria never to find out the lie that brought them together. From here on, it would be the truth and nothing but.

But what kind of relationship could be built on a foundation of lies?

Gloria must have felt his hesitation and took the lead. “Come.” She led him through the doorway, her hand in his.

Inside the bedroom, he caressed, kissed, fondled her as her fumbled with her buttons. She’d unfastened half the buttons of his shirt when he stopped her hand. “Wait.”

Bryan gently urged her onto the bed. Her sweater hung open down the front, revealing her lacy black bra and generous breasts. Her chest, throat, and face were flushed with desire. Her lips were full and red, her eyes hazy.

He was hard as rock, his cock aching to feel her heat. Blood pounded in his ears, nearly deafening him. But it was more than lust he felt. Gratitude welled in his chest and filled his throat. He was the luckiest bastard on the planet to have this woman in his room. In his life.

And the least deserving.

He shoved that guilty thought aside. No time for self-reproach. He needed to make love to Gloria.

He never thought of sex as
making love
before. In fact, he’d scoffed at the term, found it ridiculous and sappy. But now, as he sank to his knees before Gloria, no other expression fit.

He lifted her left leg and slipped off her sandal. Her toes, sparkling with crimson polish, curled when he placed his lips to the arch of her foot. She giggled but didn’t pull away. Ah, she liked that. What else did she like?

Slowly, he kissed his way up her bare leg. He reached the back of her knee, and she sighed. He lingered there, then trailed his lips to the inner joint of her thigh. He flicked his tongue against the edge of her panties, making her gasp. The lacy black panties matched her bra.

What a temptation to tear them off her. But another urge was stronger. The urge to make them both wait. Savor the experience. Make it last.

He stood and leaned over her. Gloria gazed up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. His heart thudded, and his cock butted against his fly, demanding release.
Down, guy. Slow your roll.

Bryan lowered himself to the bed and lifted Gloria’s hand, kissing each of her knuckles. He took his time discovering all her most sensitive places. The crook of her elbow, the hollow of her throat.

When he placed his lips to the center of her cleavage, he caught a whiff of her perfume, the scent activated by her body heat. His thoughts rushed to the day they first met and the Shakespeare sonnet.
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Gloria personified the beauty of summer. She was as lush as a field of wildflowers, as vibrant as a cloudless sky, as warm as a sunny day, as fragrant as lavender.

****

Gloria sighed deeply as Bryan’s warm lips teased her breasts. Tears pricked the back of her eyes. Never had she felt so adored…well, not since—

She swiftly pushed the thought away. No thinking of Emilio. No comparing the way he made love to Bryan’s technique. It wasn’t fair to either man.

Bryan was here, in the flesh. And as much as she loved his tenderness and appreciation, she wanted more. She grasped his head and pulled him up for a kiss.

His lips were as soft as rose petals. He brushed them teasingly against hers, but when she opened her mouth to invite deeper intimacy, he took full advantage. His kiss was leisurely but supremely confident. His mouth took complete control of hers.

His tongue licked at hers, then caressed the hidden recesses of her mouth, leaving nothing unexplored. Gloria stole a breath when she could, needles of fire racing to her lips and breasts, to the juncture of her thighs. She was wet with need.

When he pulled back, she sucked in a mouthful of air. A grin of satisfaction curled his lips, and an arrogant glint lit his eyes. He was so sure of himself. Sure he had her right where he wanted.

Well, two could play that game. She stroked the hard bulge distending the front of his jeans and felt a wicked thrill when his breath caught. His eyes narrowed to slits as he covered his hand with her own, urging her on, showing her how he liked it.

“You have on too many clothes,” he muttered.

“Help me take them off,” she answered, hooking two fingers in the front of his jeans. The backs of her knuckles brushed the warm taut skin of his belly. She popped the snap while he unhooked the back of her bra. He drew it down her arms, then sat back to gaze.

A flicker of apprehension flashed through her. She was in her forties and didn’t have the body she once had. She’d had a child. Bryan was used to being with much younger women. Women who had no silvery stretch marks from childbirth, whose breasts were perkier than her own.

For an instant, she wanted to snatch back the bra and cover herself.

Then Bryan sighed. “Beautiful.”

Elation filled her. She moaned in delight as he cradled her breasts to kiss and caress them. Her nipples hardened and tingled. Liquid desire pooled between her thighs.

She needed more. “Up,” she demanded, suddenly greedy and impatient.

His tongue swirled around her nipple. “Hmm?”

“Up, up!” She pushed at his shoulders, urging him to stand. As soon as he did, she unzipped his pants. Carefully, she worked his clothing past his erection. When he sprang free, she impatiently shoved his pants and briefs down his thighs. It was her turn to sigh when she finally viewed his cock in all its glory.

“Ahh…” She curled her hand around its velvety hardness and bestowed a kiss upon its crown.

Now he was just as eager to go as she. He quickly shucked his clothing while she struggled with the side zipper of her skirt.

“It’s caught,” she murmured.

“Let me try.” He brushed her hands aside, then cursed. “Hell. It really is.”

They both fumbled with the fastening. Bryan groaned. “Shit. Cock blocked by a stuck zipper.”

The silliness of the situation had Gloria dissolving into giggles.

“Hold on, I’ll get it.” He gritted his teeth and jerked the slider hard.

“No, don’t rip it! It’s my good skirt.”

He took a different tack, tugging at the hem to wiggle it down her hips. With each tug, he hauled Gloria toward the edge of the bed. She squealed and grabbed the coverlet as though it could save her from falling.

“Wait!” she cried.

He went stone still, perspiring and red-faced with frustration. She worked at the fastening once more, then sighed. “Got it.”

His shoulders sagged in relief as she wriggled out of the skirt. Then came the panties. She kicked them both aside and held out her arms to him.

In a blink, he was beside her. Kissing him hungrily, Gloria couldn’t wait any longer. Lust spiraled in her belly, shooting arrows of need through her body. She spoke against his lips. “Now.”

He held her with one arm while reaching with the other for the bedside drawer. He jerked it open, grabbed a square packet, and tore it open. Together, they smoothed the condom down his shaft. She lay back as he knelt between her thighs.

His eyebrows rose. “Yes?”

She grabbed his hips. “Yes.”

She gasped as he plunged into her. He was big, and she was so slick and needy. Her head fell back as she closed her eyes. Oh, it felt so good.

He groaned as he withdrew and plunged again. She dug her fingers into his skin, urging him on. “Yes!”
Yesyesyesyesyes…

Fire raced through her. When she opened her eyes, Bryan was staring down at her intently. Their gazes connected and locked as they moved against each other, slippery with sweat, focused on their shared goal. Gloria was convinced, in that moment, that their souls were connected, too. They were in this together.

His handsome face grew blurry, then melted away as the friction built and an orgasm exploded through her like a starburst. He thrust forcefully a few more times, then went still as he, too, climaxed.

She opened her eyes and smiled. He looked so relaxed, so happy. A lock of tousled hair fell over his forehead. His mouth curved in a blissful smile. They shared a leisurely kiss before he lowered himself beside her with a sigh.

No words were spoken. None were needed.

Chapter Eight

Bryan had made love to her twice more, in between bouts of drowsing and pillow talk. In spite of her lack of sleep, Gloria woke the next morning blissfully relaxed, the result of amazing sex.

But his side of the bed was empty. She peeked into the bathroom. He wasn’t there. After using the facilities and grabbing his robe from the back of the door, she padded into the kitchen. It too was empty, but a note lay on the counter.

Other books

Freedom Ride by Sue Lawson
The Unseen by James McKenna
A Private Sorcery by Lisa Gornick
Lie Down in Darkness by William Styron
The Saint-Germain Chronicles by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro
Inherent Vice by Thomas Pynchon