WENDY FELT OVERWHELMED, trying to play off how much Tom affected her.
Like this happened every Tuesday.
Blues music floated through the air, the smoky tones of saxophone adding to the perfection in the room. He stripped down to his boxer briefs, the fluid lines of his powerful thighs making her yearn. She could have watched him all day.
He had other ideas.
Tom pulled her onto the patchwork quilt covering her bed. The comfortable mattress invited them to stay awhile. The hot press of his chest against hers made her shiver with arousal, gooseflesh prickling on her exposed arms and breasts, her nipples tightening.
His slow, seeking kisses made her arch against him with barely restrained urgency. He shifted his hips and his hard length pressed into the heat between her legs, the frustration of the two thin swaths of cloth separating them making her gasp.
The song ended, and an Etta James tune came on. He smiled, propping his head on his hand and looking at her with delight, taking his sweet time. She reveled in his attention, doing some looking herself.
He was exquisite, and she ran her hands over his toned, tanned chest, down to his flat abs then to his hips. His sharp inhalation told her what he wanted. She reached for his length and he watched her, then gripped her wrist, forcing her to pause.
“No rush.” Tom released her, sliding his palm along her side. The slow journey up the curve of her waist to the edge of her breast, then to her shoulder, was sweet torture.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, rolling her onto her back, taking her nipple into his mouth, the ache inside her becoming nearly unbearable. His calves brushed against hers, his lips feathering a line across the valley of her breasts to give equal attention to both taut peaks.
A hum of tension built slowly inside her as his kisses moved southward. He took his time lowering her panties, then caressed his way back up her legs before returning to lie beside her.
“Fair is fair.” She slipped her hands under the waistband of his boxer briefs, sliding them down to his feet with a deftness that defied her earlier nerves.
Both fully nude, they paused. Their mutual appreciation made her laugh.
“Something funny?” he asked as he looked down at their naked bodies.
It would have been so easy to resort to her usual sarcastic wisecracks, but she took the more difficult, honest route. “I don’t know why I’m laughing. It’s just...”
“Joy,” he said, brushing a lock of hair from her cheek as she lay back down.
“Joy?”
“Yeah. I feel it too.” He moved lower to rest on his stomach between her thighs, kissing his way down her abdomen, his tongue tracing slow circles around her belly button, making her muscles quiver.
“You do?” Then she gasped as his tongue traced lightly over her damp folds. Her fingers tangled in his hair and she fought against a riptide of desire.
“God, yes.” His warm mouth moved on her and she closed her eyes, lifting her hips. With his gentle ministrations he brought her to the brink of ecstasy then eased her over the edge. She clutched his shoulders, panting, bucking as waves of orgasm crashed over her.
Tom kissed his way back up her body and she reached down to stroke his length, finding him hard and ready. He was right. Joy was exactly what she felt.
The music changed once more to a slow melodic piano and string ensemble as she wrapped her hand around his erection, fingers struggling to touch. He stopped her, moving over her, giving her access to all of him.
“I want to be inside you, Wendy,” Tom said, asking permission, his voice husky.
“And I want you inside me.” She grabbed a condom from the nightstand drawer then handed it to him. He tore it open before smoothing it on.
Wendy batted her lashes, unable to remember a time when she’d had more fun during sex. Usually, it was a frantic, sweaty race to the finish line. But Tom made her chest ache with sweetness, his smile making her fall a little more. He was the kind of guy she could spend more time with, get to know better and better, love... A niggle of warning echoed inside her head, but she shoved it aside. There’d be plenty of time for doubts later. Right now, she wanted him, fiercely.
“You’re so amazing.” He rolled onto his back and pulled Wendy atop him.
Enjoying the power, she touched his chest, his neck, his face, tracing his lips with her fingers as if trying to memorize him. She ached to have him. His hands roamed her belly, her rib cage, cupped her breasts again.
Then he pushed inside her, the pleasure making her forget everything else. Their gazes met, and she leaned forward for another kiss, their bodies moving in rhythm, her need growing with each thrust as her second climax loomed.
“Wendy,” he whispered. “Are you...?”
“Close?” She groaned. “Oh, yeah.”
Tom gripped her hips, setting the pace. A few strokes was all it took to send her toppling over the brink once more. Then Tom rolled her beneath him and drove into her hard and fast until his body tightened with orgasm too. As the intense sensations receded, he relaxed beside her, their breaths ragged. A loud crack pierced the air, followed by the cheers of the crowd at the baseball field.
“A home run,” Wendy said as Tom lay beside her. She cradled his cheek, his bright blue eyes meeting hers with a depth of kindness that would have terrified her even a week prior.
“I’d certainly give you a standing ovation,” he said, waggling his brows.
“You just did,” she said, laughing.
He got up to use the bathroom then returned to gather her close, spooning her. The man’s body was one big heating pad, and she wondered what it would feel like in the dead of winter, cozy in bed with Tom, no longer needing the cat to warm her feet.
Then her stomach growled.
“We forgot to eat,” he said.
The room had darkened, and she snapped on the bedside light. They both searched the floor for their clothes. By the time Tom pulled on his pants and shirt, she was down the hall. His footsteps echoed behind her as she opened the refrigerator door then grabbed a few items from the cupboard. By the time he reached the kitchen, she was in front of the stove, turning the burner up under the pot of water.
“More wine?” she asked, her hands trembling as she held the bottle, her nerves returning as awkwardness set in again. “How do we act around each other after that?”
Tom drank down half his glass of wine in one big gulp. He reached for her and they looked at each other for a minute, neither breaking eye contact, relaxing layer by layer. “It’s all new territory for me too. With Sam in my life.”
“This is hard,” Wendy said, forcing the words out past the tension constricting her throat. “With my past and the HD, I don’t have relationships. I have flings. Casual stuff.” He opened his mouth, but she held up one hand. “I don’t do emotional openness. I do sex, I do fun, I do sarcasm...”
“Then maybe it’s time you tried something new.” He pulled her closer.
She stepped out of the embrace, turning away. Her hands shook as she stirred the water, pouring the pasta in bit by bit. She’d been shaken by what they’d experienced together. It had been sweet and sexy and so far past her usual quickie encounters she didn’t know how to handle it.
When he spoke again, Tom’s tone was soft and soothing, as if she were a nervous colt, ready to bolt at the slightest provocation. Her heart was certainly racing like a thoroughbred’s. “I don’t want more from you than you want to give.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “When did this get complicated?”
“Relationships are always complicated.”
“Please don’t say that.”
He tilted his head. “What? That this is a relationship? What should I call it, then?”
“I don’t know.”
His stomach growled loudly.
“The perfect response,” she said, resuming her cooking, glad of a distraction. “Let’s just take things a day at a time, okay? I’m a lousy cook, by the way.”
“I doubt you’re lousy at anything.”
“Oh, trust me, once you get to know me you’ll learn I’m lousy at lots of things.” A few minutes later, she pulled the pasta pot off the stove and drained the boiling water, clouds of steam hot against her face.
“What can I do to help?”
Wendy shoved her feelings down deep, as she always did, and forced a grin she didn’t feel as she poured the pasta into a large serving bowl then stirred in the sauce. “Could you put the salad on the table, please? And the bread?”
He did as she asked. They sat down. Dinner was quiet.
“This is good,” he said at last.
“You’re just being polite.”
“I don’t say anything I don’t mean. It’s good. Thank you.”
She gave him an incredulous stare. “We just had sex, Tom, you don’t need to butter me up.”
“Hey, at my place, this would be a luxurious meal.”
“Sam told me you guys eat a lot of takeout.” Wendy smiled. “What would you serve if you invited me over for dinner?”
He shrugged. “Pizza or Thai, probably. Sam’s been on an Asian kick lately.”
“Don’t you ever cook?” She reached for more salad, surprised when he took her hand.
“No time,” he said. “Hey, relax, okay? We’ll get through this and go slow.”
“I’m sorry, I have no framework for how to behave with someone like you.”
“Like me?”
“Yeah. Nice. Normal. Like I said, I don’t spend a lot of time with the guys I...well, you know. This is the first time I’ve had a man over for dinner in a long time.”
Headlights flashed on the wall and car engines roared to life as the game ended across the street and people made their way back to their lives, the fun diversion over.
Fun and diversion had been her shell. Without it, Wendy wasn’t sure how she’d cope.
“After this, do you want to watch some TV with me?” she asked, pushing her food around on her plate with her fork, hoping to get this train back on the tracks. “Renovation Station is on tonight. Maybe we can get some more tips for Sam’s room? Do you watch that show?”
Tom shrugged. “No. I don’t watch much of anything. I work hundred-hour weeks.”
Sighing, she refilled their wineglasses and they finished their meal in silence. Afterward, once they’d cleared the table and put away the leftovers, she took his hand and walked him toward the living room. “Tonight Renovation Station. Next time we’ll do the MedStar Network.”
“Will there be a next time?” he asked, settling on the sofa then wrapping his arm around her shoulders as she snuggled in beside him.
Wendy relaxed, telling herself she could do this, take it one step at a time, one day at a time, and keep her heart and her life intact. She chinked her glass against his, a lump of anxiety clogging her throat even as she winked at him. “If you play your cards right.”