He stopped kissing her but didn’t take his lips from hers.
“Let’s go to bed,” he whispered.
Lost and no longer thinking about her suitcases, her passport, getting away, saving him and his children from the misfortune that seemed to plague her or the fact that he had an enormous piece of sponge for dinner, she pressed into him and nodded.
* * * * *
Prentice
Elle spooned in front of him, the fingers of one of Prentice’s hands between her legs, the others curled around her breast, her sweet ass nestled in his groin, his c**k still imbedded inside her, her sex rippling against it in the aftermath of her orgasm, Prentice buried his face in her fragrant hair and tried to even his breathing as he listened to Elle doing the same.
Christ, she was magnificent when he f**ked her.
Testing this theory, he pressed his still-swollen c**k deeper, his thumb and forefinger rolling her taut nipple, his other fingers putting pressure between her legs; she emitted a sexy, lusty sigh and nuzzled her ass into his lap.
Welcoming his attention.
Inviting it.
Getting off on it.
Yes, he was correct.
Magnificent.
He could enthusiastically say that night and the one before, Prentice had sampled a variety of items in the catalogue of things he wanted to do to Elle and he was not disappointed.
When he wasn’t close to her, touching her, kissing her, f**king her and she wasn’t around his children, she was hesitant and unsure, aloof and cool or unapproachable and distant.
When she was with his children and when he was close to her, touching her, kissing her, f**king her, she was not hesitant, not remote, not unapproachable.
She was completely his.
His Elle.
The one he’d fallen in love with twenty years ago.
He just had to work on the rest of the time.
During those times, when she was with his kids or he was close, he had her back. Not exactly the same, not with her rabid energy and joy of life but instinctively he knew that would happen.
Or, more to the point, he intended to make it happen.
And to do it, he had to keep her off-balance or stay close or be touching her, kissing her or f**king her.
He looked forward to this challenge.
And Prentice Cameron hadn’t looked forward to anything for a very long time.
Gently, he pulled his hand from between her legs and wrapped his arm around her middle as he cupped her breast and slid his c**k out of her, craving their connection instantly after it was lost.
Her breathing had steadied and her body weight settled into his arms.
She’d slept late that morning but she’d been worn out. He wouldn’t be surprised, after what they’d done (and they’d sampled four positions in his catalogue, all of which they both enjoyed to the fullest), if she fell asleep.
His head came up and he shifted her hair off her neck with his chin before he asked softly in her ear, “You asleep, baby?”
He was surprised when she whispered, “No.”
He kissed her neck then absorbed her shiver, something which made him smile.
“Do you want to talk?” he asked her neck.
She was still whispering when she replied, “No.”
That was perfectly fine with him.
He settled in behind her, tightening his arms.
She didn’t fight it. She cuddled closer even though there was no closer to get still, she sought it.
This pleased him.
Perhaps he was getting somewhere.
His face went back to her hair and his arm left her waist. His hand travelled down her arm and found her hand.
Realizing vaguely he was relieved to find her hand open and relaxed; he threaded his fingers in hers.
Her fingers closed tight.
Yes, he was getting somewhere.
“Sleep,” he encouraged.
“Okay,” she whispered.
He stayed awake until he knew she slept.
And he stayed awake longer, unconsciously waiting for her to have that dream.
When time slid by and she didn’t but instead laid peaceful in his arms, Prentice finally fell asleep.
Chapter Fourteen
Miracle Worker
Isabella
In the moments before fully waking, Isabella felt that sweet, long-lost sense of contentment she’d only experienced once in her life for fifteen months twenty years ago.
Then her travel alarm sounded.
Her eyes opened.
The warm solid weight at her back shifted, the fingers laced in hers released and Prentice pressed into her back as she saw his arm reach out, his hand tagging the clock.
The bed moved as she felt him get up on an elbow and she stared at her clock held before her in his hand.
“Christ, how do you turn this f**king thing off?” he growled, his voice gruff with sleep.
Evidently, Prentice was not a morning person.
She took it from him and pressed the off button. Without delay, he pulled it from her hand and put it back to the nightstand.
She tried to get her thoughts together but they were randomly and determinedly skipping from one to another, all of them centered around how very much she liked waking up next to Prentice (even grouchy Prentice).
His body was warm, it was big, it was strong, it was pressed up against hers and the bed felt cozy and safe with him in it.
His face went into her neck and she felt his lips there.
She liked that too.
His hand glided up her belly to between her br**sts as he said, “We have to be quick, baby. Need to get the kids up and fed.”
Those br**sts his palm rested between started tingling.
“Quick?” she asked, her mind muddled, nothing he said made sense.
And, anyway, she didn’t want him to make sense. She wanted to nestle into him and go back to the dreamless, restful sleep she only seemed to have when he was with her.
She realized what he meant when his palm moved from between her br**sts to cup one of them and his teeth nipped her earlobe.
She trembled.
“Quick,” he replied.
Before she could catch a thought his face went away from her neck, he pressed her to her back, rolled over her, his mouth captured hers in a heady kiss and then Prentice deliciously guided them through “quick”.
It wasn’t until they were na**d in the shower and the water was sluicing into her hair and down her body that Isabella’s thoughts semi-focused.
They focused first on the fact that she was na**d with Prentice in the shower and she wasn’t certain she was entirely comfortable with that.
Then they focused on the fact that Prentice was na**d with her in the shower and she was very certain she was comfortable with that because he had a fantastic body.
Then they focused on the fact they were all of a sudden in the shower even though she’d barely had time to recover from the cl**ax he’d just given her. He hadn’t even let her get her breathing regulated or her heart rate slowed before he pulled her out of bed and hustled her into the bathroom.