RYAN woke to the faint glow of purple leaching night from the sky as dawn readied to break.
He’d slept with his wife.
Slept! As if the actual sex hadn’t been bad enough, he’d pulled her into his arms. Taken the sweet curve of her body against his own and let go.
Sure. Just a couple of minutes to catch his breath. Soothe any anxieties or fears Claire might have had. The last thing she’d need after nearly a decade of celibacy would be the first man she gave it up to, to hop out of bed with a wink and salute. “Thanks for the great time, babe. You were dynamite.” He’d had to stay a while.
Yeah, right.
Except then she’d gone lax in his arms, her breath falling into the quiet rhythm of sleep, and still he’d held her. Let his mouth rest against the slope of her shoulder, his nose bury into the silky sheets of her hair. His arm band across her so the soft puffs of her breath whispered over his knuckles where they rested at her pillow.
Of all the damn fool things to do, falling asleep like that topped the list.
As if the years apart, years of lost dreams, separate lives, different cities, different women, for God’s sake!—as if none of it had happened.
And why?
Because he’d made her want…made her come…because he’d given her something she’d been missing, and the look in her eyes had made him feel like a god?
What a laugh.
He had to get out of there.
Gently disentangling himself from the intimate embrace of Claire’s limbs, he was ready to roll away, when her sultry purr stopped him short. That sound. Damn if it didn’t get under his skin…slip into his veins and ride a hot trail of possession through the very heart of him.
“Where you going?” came the groggy inquiry.
Break’s over, kitten. That’s what he should say. Call it one night. Kiss her long and slow, sweet and tender. Give them both a nice pretty bow to wrap around the remnants of a marriage they’d agreed more than once never should have been, while sending a nice clear message about distance and expectation.
Except he couldn’t say a word. Couldn’t do anything but follow the contours of her body beneath his sheets and think this was where she belonged.
In his bed.
The disturbing reality settled around him. Now that he’d had her, he wouldn’t be able to leave her alone. As long as that sleek fall of black hair was within reach, he’d be wrapping it around his fist to pull her closer.
Which didn’t mean they’d suddenly be calling off the divorce. Hell, no. This wasn’t some kind of second chance at the wildfire that had nearly destroyed them the first time. This, now, was a controlled burn. The very ashes of their past together serving as the limit on its destructive potential. Because fire couldn’t feed on what no longer existed, and all those old expectations, emotions and youth-fueled fantasies were gone now. For both of them.
Ryan leaned on one arm, looking down at Claire half asleep beneath him. He stroked a few dark strands from her face, and then trailed the tip of his finger across the rise of her cheekbone, into the soft divot behind her ear, and then lower to the swell of her breast. Tracing slow circles around the shell-pink areola, he watched her nipple bead tight beneath his touch. Her breath hitch and stall. The dark fringe of her lashes flutter open to reveal sleep-heavy eyes, already hazed with arousal.
Her lips parted for the wet tip of her tongue and Ryan’s groin hardened to the point of pain.
“One more time?” she murmured, her knee sliding against his thigh in silky-soft invitation.
Another revolution around the berry-hard tip, teasingly close, but not yet closing in. “Is that all you want? One more time?”
“What are you asking?”
Lowering his head, he took her into his mouth and tested her ripeness against the curl of his tongue. The sinuous arch of Claire’s back and press of her breast, coupled with her soft cry, was satisfying surrender. His fingers skimmed low over her belly and into the notch between her legs where she was warm and snug.
“Until the divorce is finalized, Claire.” Gently he pushed a finger inside her, watched as her eyes glazed even as she struggled for clarity. He stroked into her. Groaned at the tight hug as she spasmed around his intrusion. Slipped his hand free and painted her moisture around her opening. “No expectations beyond that.”
“We’d have a week.” Her thighs fell farther apart, opening her to him completely.
Ryan shifted so his knees were between her legs, his shaft nudging at the entrance to her body. Slowly, he pushed home.
“Not enough,” he said through clenched teeth, bowing his head against the mind-blowing pleasure of their fit, pulling out as far as he dared, and then pushing back in deep.
Claire cried out, clutching at his shoulders as her heels sought purchase on the backs of his thighs. “How long?”
He thrust again, rotating his hips before pulling back and then doing it again.
How long could he have her—have this—without someone getting hurt? A week wasn’t going to be enough. He knew it without a doubt. With a limit of five more days, the only time he’d let her out of bed would be to take her in the shower. Or on the table. The floor. The ocean. The beach. Beneath the sheared-off cliffs at the tide pools.
If all he had was a week, he wouldn’t let Claire even get close to divorce headquarters. And he took his commitment to secure her future too seriously for that. They needed more time to let this run its course.
“As long as it takes.” Thrusting again, he stilled, buried deep inside her. Her sea-blue eyes stared up at him as he rocked his groin against her pelvic bone, catching her clitoris between them. She seized around him, sucking in her breath on a gasp as she pulled her knees higher against his ribs.
Oh, yeah, she liked that.
“We’ll work around our schedules.” He rocked again. “Meet weekends when we can.” Ducking down for a kiss, he thrust his tongue in sync with his hips for a single deep taste. Then, “Go through the assets one by one.”
“It makes sense,” she half moaned, rising beneath him to match his every stroke. “We wouldn’t have to rush.”
“No rush,” he agreed, rocking against her again. Her fingers wound into his hair, holding him tight as she strained upward, begging for more. She was close.
“We’d have time to be thorough.” Her breath was coming in thready gasps now. The color high across her cheeks and chest.
“Meticulous, Claire.” Another hilt-deep thrust. Another spasm. Another slow grinding rock of his body against hers and she broke. Came apart around him, crying out his name as he followed her into bliss.
Moments later, still buried inside her, he rolled to his side, bringing Claire with him. “We both know what this is. Just like we both know what it isn’t.”
“Temporary. An affair.”
An affair with his wife. Crazy, but accurate. “And when it’s over—”
Her fingers smoothed over his lips, following the contours in a seductive study that had him stirring where he was still connected to her body. How was it like this with her?
Claire’s gaze met his, a soft smile playing at her mouth. “When it’s over we go our separate ways, leave the past behind, and take something beautiful away with us.”
And then the blaze between them would simply burn itself out.
No expectations beyond that. No one hurt.
That was the biggest thing. In his life, there’d been nothing worse than the impotent rage he’d experienced watching her suffer. Knowing, ultimately, he’d been at the root of it, but that nothing he did could make it better. He’d gotten her pregnant and she’d lost her parents over it. And then she’d lost the baby and all she’d had left was him. A twenty-two-year-old jackass who’d thought he knew how to be a husband, but didn’t have a clue. Nothing he’d done was right. Nothing helped.
He wouldn’t go through that again. No matter how badly he wanted her.
But they weren’t shooting for forever here or looking to build something lasting or solid. Claire didn’t need that kind of shelter. She’d healed and was stronger than she’d ever been before. She knew what they were getting into and she wanted it. Their cards were laid plainly on the table. What you see is what you get. No surprises. No opportunity for heartbreak.
Safe in that knowledge, Ryan reached for Claire’s hip and, groaning against the rising need between them, he took her again.