Devlin prayed she wouldn’t say yes.
“I don’t know how to tell you this,” she murmured awkwardly.
His body throbbing and aching, vision blinded by passion, he asked in a hoarse voice, “What is it?”
“I haven’t done…this”—she hiccuped over the noun like a broken record—“in a long time.”
The very malest part of him was thrilled. “We don’t have to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable.”
“I want you,” she said, putting her lips to his. “I want to do this.”
As Devlin absorbed her response, A.J. felt tremors pound through his body. It gave her a sense of power, and with it, she went about learning the hard contours of his chest and belly, using her hands and her mouth. He thrashed under her, calling out in a desperation that made her go even further. She tormented him and teased him, bringing him to the brink but no further, until he let out a growl and rolled over onto her.
He ripped her thin panties in haste and settled himself over her. Their eyes met and he slowly slid into her body. It was paradise. In that first instant, as their hearts beat together and their bodies and breath mingled, they both knew they would never be the same again.
Starting slowly, and growing with urgency, he moved within her. They held each other tightly against the impending release, which built and built until they thought they could stand it no longer. Finally, with rough cries, and heaving breaths, their bodies climaxed in a burst of ecstasy.
Much later, after he noticed the chill in the air and covered them with the throw blanket to keep her warm, Devlin found himself in awe. Now that they’d been together once, he couldn’t wait to be inside of her again. She was the kind of lover he’d been looking for without knowing he was on a quest. Gifting herself with honesty and abandonment, she had taken pleasure from him and given it back to him without any artifice. With her, he’d known true intimacy for the first time.
A.J. stirred in his arms and his breath caught as her eyes opened. Her expression was that of a cat in sunshine. Satisfied, glowing, content. He’d do anything to keep her looking like that.
Devlin kissed her softly.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Wonderful.” She ran a hand across his chest as he laughed huskily, thrilled.
“Devlin?”
“Yeah?”
“I didn’t know it could be like that.”
“Neither did I.”
“And I’m glad I’m not leaving this house. Leaving you.”
“Me, too. I never wanted you to go.”
She sighed, relieved that everything was going to be fine and nothing would change. Except for the nights. And they were only going to get better.
Devlin felt her relax against him and was likewise glad the decision had been made. Now they could move forward and see where all the passion and emotion would take them. First thing in the morning, he’d start looking for another trainer. Someone close by so she wouldn’t have to drive far. Someone who was good and would take care of her in the ring.
In the tight cradle of the couch, they fell asleep against each other with just the blanket to keep them warm. When dawn tripped over the mountain ridge, taking a tumble and spilling its light across the hills and sky, Devlin woke up and reached for A.J.’s mouth. Wordlessly, she rolled under him and he entered her body with a powerful surge. When they climaxed together, her name was a moan that came from the deepest part of him.
As they floated back down to earth, Devlin knew they had to get off the couch and put some clothes on before Chester came through the front door. Turning to look into A.J.’s face, he was struck again by her loveliness. Never had morning light been quite so tender, or the quiet of dawn seem so gentle, than as his eyes caressed her. As she looked back at him, there was shy inquiry in her expression that was spiked with remembered ecstasy. He felt light-headed.
“I feel so damn lucky that I met you. And that this happened,” he said. Her smile was full of happiness and he felt his heart grow light as he told himself everything was going to be okay. “I guess I should head upstairs before Chester comes through the door.”
“You get the first shower.”
“I’d rather share it with you.”
“You know what they say: Save water. Shower with a friend.”
“You’re a hell of a lot more than a friend,” he replied, taking her mouth. His kiss was fevered, despite the fact that they had just made love. When they took a break so they could breathe, he said, “I better go.”
Quickly, before they became lost in each other again, he got up off the couch. Before he left, he was careful to tuck the blanket around her so she wouldn’t be cold.
A.J. watched him move around and pick up his clothes, delighted with the chance to see his body in the light. With all that they had shared of themselves, physical beauty seemed trivial and yet she was thrilled by his strong arms and flat, muscled belly. It was only when she saw the scars on his bad leg that she felt bad. The crisscrossing disfigurements, a map of where the limb had been rebuilt, still looked fresh and angry. She wanted to reach out and smooth the knotted lines with her fingers, to bear some of his loss for him.
After blowing her a kiss, Devlin went up the stairs. When she rolled over onto her back, she was smiling.
Nothin’ like a little lovin’ to perk a girl up, she thought, feeling a bulge under her back and pulling out her T-shirt. She shrugged it over her head and looked down at the wrinkles, a road map pressed into the cotton by the weight of their bodies.
By the time Devlin came back downstairs, A.J. had gotten up and was folding their blanket. He leaned against the wall.
“What are you looking at?” she asked playfully.
“I’m trying to imagine you in a little French maid’s outfit. It’s quite a picture, let me tell you.” His eyes were soft and warm.
“I hate to ruin the fantasy, but I’m not the frilly type. Petticoats make me itchy.”
He walked over to her, took her into his arms. “Just as well. I think you’re more beautiful like this.”
“With my hair a mess, wearing a wrinkled shirt?”
“You’re right. I’d prefer you totally naked.”
His hands gripped her hips and pulled them into him. She could feel him harden the instant their bodies came into contact.
The footsteps coming up the flagstone told them Chester had arrived, and they parted just as he burst through the door. He had the newspaper under his arm and his hangdog face was cheery.