Maureen Child - Little Secrets

He was there the next morning to pick her up at seven, as agreed. She was in the lobby, waiting for him, clearly as eager as he was for them to be together again. Just seeing her in her jeans and dark green sweater had made his mouth water.

When she smiled at him, he went hard as stone and damn near killed himself just trying to walk across the floor toward her. Then she reached out for him, took his hand and he was lost in need, heat, a fire that built with every breath.

They had breakfast on the beach, coffee and bagels shared over laughter and a breathless sense of expectation. Looking into her whiskey-brown eyes was mesmerizing. Intoxicating. On that deserted winter beach, they were alone in the world but for one or two hardy surfers out challenging the waves.

Hands linked, they walked along the beach for what felt like miles, then they hiked back to the car and drove down the coast. Music pumping, wind roaring through the open windows and the two of them, still holding hands, as if unable to bear not touching.

Two hours later they were in San Diego and stopping for lunch at a tiny inn outside La Jolla. The once-dignified old Victorian mansion clung to the cliffside and waves pounded against the rocks in a steady, rhythmic heartbeat.

“It’s beautiful here,” Rita said, letting her gaze slide across the water, the cliffs and the meticulously tended gardens.

“Yeah, it is,” he replied, his gaze locked on her. With the wind in her hair and the winter sun shining in her eyes, Jack thought he’d never seen anything more lovely. And he knew if he didn’t kiss her soon, it would kill him.

“You’re not even looking at the view,” she chided with a half smile.

“Depends on what you consider a great view.” He snaked one hand across the small round table and covered hers. He felt her pulse pounding in time with the relentless sea and knew that beat matched his own, too.

She licked her lips and he fought to breathe. She curled her hand beneath his and the heat that blossomed between them should have set the grounds on fire.

Her gaze locked with his. “What’s happening here?” she asked, her voice nearly lost in the wind and the roar of the waves.

“Whatever it is, I’m all for it,” he admitted and stroked his thumb across her palm. Her eyes glazed over and her breath quickened.

“Oh, I am, too.”

“You’re making me crazy, Rita. Couldn’t sleep last night. I kept thinking about you. About today. About...”

She pulled in a shaky breath. “I’ve been thinking about...too.”

Oh, yeah. If he didn’t have her soon, he was a walking dead man. He’d never make that two-or three-hour drive home with his body and mind so entangled with nothing but thoughts of her. All he could think of was touching her, stroking her skin, sliding his body into hers and being surrounded by her heat.

“You know, maybe we should book a room here at the inn. Neither one of us slept much last night. We could get some sleep before that long drive back up to Orange County.”

Her tongue slipped out again to slide across her bottom lip and his gaze tracked that motion as if his life depended on it. Fire, he thought. It felt like he was burning up from the inside and if his body got any harder, he’d have to crawl from the table because walking would be impossible.

Nodding, she said, “That’s probably a good idea. A nap, I mean. Tired drivers can be dangerous.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Safety first.”

Her smile was fleeting, but brilliant, taking his breath away. “I’ll see if they’ve got a room where we can...rest. Just wait here.”

When he stood up, Rita took his hand and squeezed. “Okay, I’ll wait. But hurry. I’m really tired.”

That was all the encouragement Jack needed.

In ten minutes, they were entering their room on the second floor. Jack swept her up close to him, kicked the door closed and gave the dead bolt a fast turn. She laughed up into his face and he felt something inside him turn over. She was more than he’d ever had. More than he’d ever thought to find. And for now, she was all his.

“Oh,” she said, tearing her gaze from his to give the room a quick look. “Isn’t it lovely?”

He hadn’t noticed. Now he did. White lace curtains at the windows, a brass bed with a detailed flower quilt across the mattress. There were two chairs before a tiny hearth outlined in sea-blue tiles and a table held a carafe of water and two glasses. There was a door that led to a private bath and photographs of old San Diego dotted the pale gold walls.

He supposed it was very nice, though it could have been a cave for all he cared. “Yeah,” he said tightly, not caring about the room.

When she looked up at him again, she gave him a knowing smile. “Ready to nap?”

“More than you know.”

“Then let’s get to sleep,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck, holding on as she lifted her face for his kiss.

When their mouths met, merged, it was like the whole damn world lit up. Or maybe it was just the fire inside, blazing brighter than ever. Seconds ticked into minutes and still they stood, locked together, bodies pressed tightly to each other, heartbeats hammering in time.

Finally, he tore his mouth free, fought for enough breath to admit, “I have to touch you.”

“Please, yes,” she said softly, hungrily, “Now. Touch me.”

In seconds, they were naked and falling onto the bed together. Afternoon light poured through the windows and winter sun painted a soft, golden slash across the polished wood floor to lie on the bed and shine in Rita’s eyes.

His gaze raked over her lush curves, and everything in him stirred to a fever pitch. Jack felt as though he’d been waiting for this one moment his whole life. He bent his head to take one of her nipples into his mouth. Tasting, nibbling, working his teeth and tongue across her sensitive skin. Every whispered moan and sigh that slipped from her fed his hunger until it was like a closed fist around his throat, making breathing almost impossible. Her fingers slid through his military-short hair, nails scraping along his scalp as she arched up and into him, silently asking for more. And he had plans for a lot more.

Lifting his head, he stared down into her eyes. “This could be the longest nap on record.”

“Oh, good,” she said on a long sigh, “because I’m really tired.”

He grinned. “And I’m really glad to hear that.”

She pulled his head down to hers and this time she claimed his mouth in a kiss that seared him right to his bones. He let her lead, let her devour and gave back all that she was giving him and still, it wasn’t enough.

Jack moved over her, running his hands up and down her body, discovering every curve, exploring her soft silky skin until they were both trembling with an explosive need. Her small hands moved over his chest, his shoulders and every stroke of her fingers felt like licks of flame.

They rolled across the bed, tasting, touching. Her heavy brown curls spread out beneath her head like a wild, tangled dark halo. He was lost in her, her scent, her touch, the hunger raging inside him. Body raging, mind fogging over, Jack stood poised on the brink of a cliff.

“Now,” she whispered, lifting her hips, rocking into his hand as he cupped her center. “Jack, now. I can’t take this anymore.”

“Hold on. Just hold on.” Before he lost control completely, he reached down for his jeans, dug into the pocket and pulled out the condoms he’d tucked in there only that morning.

“Boy,” she said, “I really love a man who’s prepared to take a nap.”

He grinned at her as he sheathed himself. “Babe, ever since the moment we met, I’ve been prepared to nap.”

“So glad to hear it.” She opened her arms to him, lifted her hips again and welcomed him inside her.