Sean's Reckoning - By Sherryl Woods Page 0,70

they would look with damp cloth clinging to her curves and the evidence of his desire. Another part of her cried out at being a coward. If this was what she wanted—and it was—then there shouldn’t be anything halfway about it. And there shouldn’t be any hesitation or embarrassment.

Because she couldn’t seem to summon a single word, instead she reached down and unclasped the hook on her bra and let it fall away. Sean sucked in a sharp breath as his gaze fell to her breasts. He reached out and with one finger, slowly circled first one tip, then the other. The gesture was enough to send heat spiraling through her.

Then his hands slipped past the elastic waistband of her panties and slid them off. It was no more than a quick, skimming touch and yet she was shuddering with need somewhere deep inside.

Sean saw her reaction and when she reached for his briefs, he caught her hands. “Something tells me I’d better do this myself if we’re actually going to get a shower.”

She grinned at the admission that he was as close to the edge as she was. It made her feel something she hadn’t felt in a very long time. It made her feel desirable. For too many years now, she’d concentrated on being a mother. She’d forgotten how to be a woman.

Finally undressed, Sean held out his hand and helped her into the tub, then stepped in to face her. Keeping his gaze focused on hers, he picked up the soap and began to lather it all over her with quick, slippery passes that tried to avoid being provocative. Deanna almost laughed at the concentration knitting his brow. She could have told him all that restraint was wasted. Every place he touched was on fire. Her heart was pounding as if she’d just run a marathon.

“My turn,” she said, stealing the soap and using it to work up a creamy lather which she spread slowly across his solid chest. The white foam against bronzed skin made her want to linger there, but there was so much more of him to explore—broad shoulders, muscled legs, a powerful back and tight butt. She could feel his skin heat beneath her touch, felt the tension in his muscles.

“Enough,” he whispered, his voice tight.

He turned around and drew her against him, slick skin against slippery heat. His arms loosely circling her waist, he moved slightly until the shower was cascading over them, the water in the old pipes turning cool, but not cold enough to temper the fire burning inside them both.

When they’d been rinsed clean, he shut off the water, reached for a towel and rubbed her skin until it glowed. He barely made a pass with a towel to dry himself before scooping her into his arms and heading for the bedroom.

By then Deanna was restless with wanting, desperate to feel him deep inside her.

Sean apparently felt the same urgency, because he hesitated above her for no more than a heartbeat, gazing deep into her eyes as he slowly entered her, stilled and sighed with obvious contentment.

But being together wasn’t enough, not for long. Sean began to move, the strokes slow and leisurely at first, then deeper and more intense. Deanna’s hips rose off the bed to meet him, desperately seeking a release that remained just beyond reach. The rhythm teased and tormented, promising so much but holding back until Deanna was about to scream.

Just then Sean’s fingers glided intimately over her, sending shock waves ripping through her. The scream came then, but Sean’s mouth covered hers, capturing the sound as he held her tight. Then he was moving again, carrying her beyond where she’d thought she was capable of going, until together they fell off the ends of the earth.

Chapter Fifteen

In Sean’s past, the morning after making love with a woman had always meant a hurried escape to safer emotional waters. Even on those rare occasions when he’d lingered for breakfast, he’d been careful to retreat to more neutral turf. He’d done his best not to give confusing signals that might suggest that the night before had been a prelude to forever.

This morning he awoke to the discovery that he was exactly where he wanted to be, where he intended to be, for the rest of his life—in bed with Deanna curled next to him, her breath fanning across his bare chest.

Even as he made that mental admission, he waited for the panic to follow. He expected some