40-Love - Olivia Dade Page 0,71

working,” she said. “I’d love to have someone I could brainstorm and discuss ideas with, and Belle’s already given her opinion on everything. Can you be my new sounding board? Please?”

He simply stared at her for a moment, face blank.

“I haven’t talked to anyone else about my plans. Just her, and”—she flashed him a tentative smile—“you, that other night on the tennis court. I’d like to tell you more.”

“Why—” After clearing his throat, he started again. “Why me?”

“You’re smart. Perceptive about people. I think you’d help me see possibilities and drawbacks I haven’t considered.” But she wasn’t going to pressure him if he wasn’t interested. “If that doesn’t sound like a good time, though, I completely get it. I can work from my hotel room like I’ve been doing before now.”

“No.” The word was abrupt. Loud. “No, I’ll help. I want to help.”

His hand covered hers, pressing both over his heart. And he was looking at her…

Well, she didn’t quite know how he was looking at her. But she’d never seen such naked emotion in a man’s eyes before, not directed her way.

“I’m glad,” she whispered, and licked lips that had abruptly turned dry.

His eyes followed the movement. He swallowed, the effort visible, and hectic color washed over his cheekbones as he studied her mouth.

That look, she recognized. She’d seen it several times over the course of a long night spent with him around her, above her, inside her.

She still didn’t like mess. But she wasn’t aching or exhausted anymore, and she hadn’t lied. Competence turned her on. If he had some creative suggestions as to how they should spend their night together, she was more than willing to listen.

“Tess.” It was a near-rasp, one that did nothing to diffuse the heat suddenly billowing between them. “I bought a vibrator today.”

Wow. He’d had an extraordinarily busy day. Pies and vibrators and booties, oh my.

“Someday,” he said, “when my face is buried between your legs, I want to slide that vibrator inside you and feel your thighs tremble as you come.”

Her breath hitched. Hitched again.

“But not tonight. Tonight, if you’d like, we can find out how it feels against your clit. What intensity you like. Which settings you prefer.” He leaned forward. Ducked down. Nuzzled that sensitive spot at the base of her throat as she gasped and squirmed. “And I have very good hands, as I’ve told you before. Let me remind you how good. No mess necessary.”

His fingers gently fisted in her hair, and he turned her head away from him. When he licked a slow line up the back of her neck, she shuddered.

“I’ve heard that orgasms help with cramps,” he whispered in her ear, and the sensation sharpened an ache between her legs that had nothing to do with her period. “What do you say?”

What could she say, really?

Her lips curved in an anticipatory smile. “Let’s find out.”

Twenty

As soon as Tess emerged from the bathroom, Lucas tugged her into his arms. “If you decide you’d rather just sleep, or you’re too uncomfortable doing this, let me know. Tonight doesn’t have to be about sex at all, like we said earlier.”

It was an ongoing, earth-shifting revelation for him.

She liked his body, sure. She enjoyed the way he could please her in bed.

But she also wanted to hear his thoughts. About tennis, but also about her professional plans. Because she thought he had something to offer.

Her faith in his judgment disoriented him. It swept his feet from beneath him, like that dangerous riptide at the rocky, visitor-prohibited stretch of beach beneath the overlook. It bore him inexorably away from the only land he’d known for years.

He might drown in the end, of course. Suddenly, though, because of Tess’s inescapable pull, he could see other destinations. Other welcoming shores, waiting patiently in the distance.

One fresh discovery he’d already made: The way she valued him for non-physical reasons made him want to give her more orgasms. As many as she could handle. Ironic, that.

“I’ll tell you,” she promised. “Where do you want me?”

Everywhere. In his life. Within touching distance as often as humanly possible.

“You’ve cooled off a bit, right?” When she nodded, he guided her toward the bed. “Then let’s cuddle for a minute or two first.”

Her eyes rolled to his shadowed ceiling. “Men. Always with the cuddling.”

“We can’t help it.” Taking his time about it, he located the hem of her flowing turquoise t-shirt and began to raise it. “Your cuddle-ability levels are just that high. Off the charts.”

She lifted