Mills & Boon Showcase. Christy McKellen
Читать онлайн книгу.
corrugated iron of the peaked roof. Window trim and carriage lamps had been picked out in a deep dusky blue. Big tubs of purple hydrangeas in glazed blue pots sat either side of the door.
Ben leaned down to pluck a dead leaf from one of the plants without even seeming to realise he did it. She wouldn’t have taken him for a gardener—but then she knew so very little of what interests he might have developed in the years since they’d last been together at this rich-in-memories part of the beach.
‘The boathouse was the only part of the guesthouse to survive the fire,’ Ben said. He pushed open the glossy blue door. ‘Jesse lived here before he went away. I had it remodelled as guest accommodation, but liked it so much I kept it for myself.’
‘I can see why,’ she said. ‘I envy you.’
A large ceramic dog bowl filled with water, hand-painted with the words ‘Hobo Drinks Here’, sat just outside the door. She remembered the look of devotion in the dog’s big eyes and Ben’s obvious love for him.
‘Where’s your adorable dog?’ she asked, stepping through the door he held open for her, fully expecting the retriever to give Ben a boisterous greeting.
‘Mum dog-sits him the days I can’t take him to work with me,’ he said. ‘Seems she always has a houseful of strays. He fits right in.’
Sandy was about to say something about his mother, but the words were stopped by her second, ‘Wow!’ as Ben stepped aside and she got her first glimpse of the interior of the boathouse.
She only had a moment to take in a large open-plan space, bleached timber and shades of white, floor-to-ceiling windows facing the water at the living room end and a vast wooden bed at the other.
The thought that it would be a fabulous location for an advertising shoot barely had time to register in her mind, because the door slammed shut behind them and she was in Ben’s arms.
* * *
Ben didn’t want to give a tour of the boathouse. He didn’t want to talk about the architectural work Jesse had done on the old building. He just wanted, at last, to have Sandy to himself.
For a long, still moment he held her close, his arms wrapped tightly around her. He closed his eyes, breathed in the vanilla scent of her hair, scarcely able to believe it was real and she was here with him. He could feel the warm sigh of her breath on his neck, hear the thud-thud-thud of her heartbeat. Then he kissed her. He kissed the curve of her throat. He kissed the delicate hollow beneath her ear. He pressed small, hungry kisses along the line of her jaw. Then he kissed her on the mouth.
Without hesitation Sandy kissed him right back. She tasted of coffee and chocolate and her own familiar sweetness. As she wound her arms around his neck, met his tongue with hers, she made that sexy little murmur deep in her throat that he remembered from a long time ago. It drove him nearly crazy with want.
Secure in the privacy of the boathouse, he kissed her long enough for them to catch right up on the way they’d explored kissing each other all those years ago. Until kissing no longer seemed enough.
The straps of her yellow dress gave little resistance as he slid them down her smooth shoulders. She shrugged to make it easier for him. Without the support of the straps, the top of her dress fell open. He could see the edge of her bra, the swell of her breasts, the tightness of her nipples. He kissed down her neck and across the roundness of her breasts, until she gasped and her hands curled tightly into his shoulders.
He couldn’t get enough of her.
But with an intense effort he forced himself to pull back. ‘Do you want me to stop?’
‘No,’ she said immediately. ‘Not yet. I couldn’t bear it if you stopped.’
In reply, he scooped her up into his arms. Her eyes widened with surprise and excitement. Her arms tightened around his neck and she snuggled her cheek against his shoulder.
She laughed as he marched her towards the bedroom end of the boathouse. ‘Even more muscles than when you were nineteen,’ she murmured in exaggerated admiration, her voice husky with desire.
She was still laughing as he laid her on the bed—his big, lonely bed. Her dress was rucked up around her slender tanned thighs, giving him a tantalising glimpse of red panties. She kicked off her shoes into the air, laughed again as they fell to the wooden floor with two soft thuds. Then she held out her arms to urge him to join her. Warm, vibrant Sandy, just as he remembered her. Only more womanly, more confident, more seductive.
He kicked off his own shoes and lay down next to her. He leaned over her as she lay back against the pillows, her face flushed, her eyes wide.
‘I never thought I’d see you back here.’ His voice was hoarse with need for her.
She kissed him. ‘Do you remember the sand outside this place? How scratchy it was?’ she asked. ‘How we’d sneak off there whenever we could get away from everyone.’
‘How could I forget?’ he replied. Ever since she’d walked into the hotel and back into his life he’d thought of little else.
‘This is so much more comfortable,’ she said, with on-purpose seduction in her smile. She pulled him down to her to kiss him again. ‘And private,’ she murmured against his mouth.
Her kiss was urgent, hungry, and he responded in kind. Outside on that sand as teenagers they’d fooled around as though they had all the time in the world. Now they had a clock ticking on their reunion. And they were playing grown-up games.
Within minutes he’d rid her of her dress and her bra. He explored the lush new fullness of her breasts. Kissed and teased her nipples.
He lifted his head and she made a murmur of protest. His voice was ragged. ‘You sure you’re ready for this?’
Sandy’s eyes were huge. ‘I should say no. I should say we need to spend more time together first, that we can’t rush into anything we might regret.’ Her voice broke. ‘But I can’t say no. I want you too much. Have always wanted you... Don’t stop, Ben. Please don’t stop.’
What she’d said about not rushing made sense. This was going faster than he could have anticipated. He should be the sensible one. Should stop it. But he was beyond thinking sensibly when it came to Sandy. He only had four days with her.
She kissed him. He kissed her back and was done for. The last restraints gone. He stroked down the curve of her belly, felt her tremble at his touch. Then her panties were gone and he explored there too.
‘Not fair. I want to get you naked as well,’ she murmured as she started to divest him of his clothes.
She kissed a hot trail across his chest as she slid off his shirt, stroked right down his arms. Her fingers weren’t quite steady as she fumbled with the zipper on his shorts. It made the act of pulling them over his hips a series of tantalising caresses along his butt and thighs that made his body harden so much it ached.
Then they were naked together.
* * *
Sandy’s heart was doing the flipping over thing so rapidly she felt dizzy. Or maybe the dizziness was from the desire that throbbed through her, that made her press her body close to Ben. Close. Closer. Not close enough.
Did that urgent whimper come from her as Ben teased her taut nipples with his tongue? As he stroked her belly and below until she bucked against his hand with need? She gasped for breath as ripples of pleasure pulsed everywhere he touched. Revelled in the intensity of the intimacy they were sharing.
This was further than they’d gone the last time they’d been on this beach together. Now she wanted more. Much more. He was as ready for her as she was for him. She shifted her hips to accommodate him, to welcome him—at last.
Then she stilled at the same time as he did. Spoke at the same time as he did.
‘Protection.’
‘Birth control.’
He