Shame the Devil (Portland Devils #3) - Rosalind James Page 0,180

the bedroom, laid her across the bed, taken the rest of her clothes off so slowly that time seemed to stop, and set in to please her.

The summer sun had shone outside on the darkness of cedars, on the undulating swell of hills, on the dramatic cone of Mt. Hood. And on the bed, in this little world they’d made for themselves, Harlan’s hands and mouth were all over her. Taking it slow. Taking it easy. Bringing her to one long, rolling orgasm after another, and finally, pulling her on top of him and letting her take her own pleasure.

He hadn’t closed his eyes. He’d watched. His hands now on her breasts, now on her belly, then going back to cup her bottom while she found the best way, the way that ground the ring into her as she ground into him. The way that made her gasp. Pulling her down to kiss her, his tongue in her mouth as hard and insistent as he felt inside her, his fingers twined in her hair. And when she got tired, asking her, “Want me to take over now?”

“Yes,” she’d said, her chest heaving with her breath.

He’d smiled, slow and sweet and sure. And then he’d done it.

No fancy positions. No acrobatics. Just Harlan lifting her off him, then moving on top of her. Holding himself up on his palms as he entered her, then shifting position somehow so the friction got even more intense, and her eyes opened wide.

He said, “Yeah. That’s it. That’s what we’re doing.” And she lost her breath.

Her hands on his chest, his arms, exploring him, greedy for him, until it got better and all she could do was slide her hands down his back and hold his hips to try to pull him harder into him. Hearing his breath catch, feeling the strain in his body, and starting to go up again herself. The way he groaned when she did, the sounds she’d pulled out of him when, finally, he was spilling into her, and the way he held her afterwards. Brushing her hair back from her face. Kissing her cheek, her forehead.

Telling her that today had been beautiful. That seeing their son for the first time had been the most intense moment of his life. And that he loved her.

And the next day, a deliveryman had brought flowers to the office.

Twenty stems of delicate, deep-blue orchids, tinged with purple. A rare color, like sapphires. The most fragile blooms imaginable, every blossom paper-thin, tiny, and perfect. And a little white envelope stuck into the midst of them. She’d opened it with trembling fingers to find a white card.

Blue for our son. Thank you. I’m going to try hard.

He just took her heart and twisted it. Her hands were shaking so badly, she had a hard time putting the card back in the envelope. She had to go to the ladies’ room, read it again, and cry.

Good thing Blake hadn’t seen that. How did you explain that you were crying from happiness? From tenderness so strong, it hurt? From love so deep, it could only come out in tears?

She was going to cry again if she kept on like this. Dyma’s graduation. The baby. Harlan. It was all welling up inside her. She was going to think about this morning instead. About dessert. That was the only way she’d make it to Idaho without becoming a soggy mess.

No. Wait. She needed to have this conversation with Harlan first. She’d meant to have it this morning, but she’d been distracted. She was out of time. She needed to have it now.

Jennifer looked so soft and pretty in that dress, all he wanted to do was cuddle her. Which was alarming, maybe. He was never going to win the tough-guy sweepstakes like this.

On the other hand, shallow was no way to go through life. The deep end of the pool might be scary, but it sure did make you feel.

Jennifer looked away from the window, which she’d been staring out of like there was something to see out there, and said, “Could you come talk to me a minute in the back?”

“Sure,” he said, and got a twist of anxiety low in his gut, because that expression was serious.

Then you need to know, he told himself. If it was about this morning … he needed to know.

He’d checked. He’d asked. She’d sure seemed like she’d been enjoying it. But was she still thinking she had to go along with