Her gaze tracked his naked torso as he stripped away his jeans. Muscles rippled beneath smooth skin, dark hair trailing down from his chest to disappear beneath the waistband of his boxers. Mediterranean blood had to run through his veins with his olive complexion, thick dark hair, and the heavy scruff shadowing his jaw. He belonged on the cover of a pirate romance she'd devoured as a teenager.
She wanted to shout out how much he’d come to mean to her. Having to keep their relationship secret due to his kids having not met her had been hard. But when he shed his final piece of clothing and rolled on protection, all coherent thoughts abandoned her.
She was already naked, and heat pooled low in her belly as she lifted her arms in invitation.
Terry climbed onto the bed, his large hands settling on her knees before he bent lower, positioning his face between her thighs. He inhaled deeply, and the sight of him breathing in her arousal sent liquid fire racing through her veins. Then he dove in like a man starved, and her lips parted on a sharp gasp. Shivers cascaded over her skin from scalp to toes, then centered where his mouth worked its magic.
His tongue, his fingers, his relentless attention drove her higher than she'd ever been. Her climax slammed into her without warning, turning those shivers into a full-body earthquake that left her trembling and breathless.
"Holy fuck," she managed, her voice barely a whisper as aftershocks rippled through her.
Terry chuckled against her skin, then kissed his way up her body, over her mound, circling her belly button, and lavishing attention on each breast before finally claiming her mouth. "You want a holy fuck, babe, I'll give it to you."
She grinned, knowing he'd deliver on that promise. She was ready for this moment after two months of stolen kisses and more during their coordinated lunch breaks, text messages late at night, and heated looks when they managed to run into each other that no one else could interpret.Jesus, we’re worse than two horny teenagers sneaking around!
He was everything she'd ever allowed herself to dream about—handsome, intelligent, dedicated to his work and his family. And now she knew he was incredible in bed too.
Sandra had never mixed business with pleasure in her career, but Terry made her want to break every rule she'd ever set for herself. Their relationship was moving slowly out of necessity, but that was fine. She wasn't about to parade a relationship around the county unless she was certain it had potential.
Her arms wound around his neck as their mouths fused, tongues dancing in a rhythm that sent heat spiraling through her core.
"You taste better than anything I've ever had," he murmured against her lips.
"Mmm." That was all she could manage, considering her brain was short-circuiting from sensory overload.
His hips shifted, and she instinctively widened her legs, welcoming him while silently urging him on.
With his muscular arms braced beside her shoulders, he held his weight off her as he drove forward in one smooth thrust. His thick length filled her completely, and she gasped at the exquisite sensation.
They were frantic for each other, and it showed in his urgent movements and the way her nails dug into his back. He increased his pace, and she wanted more, wanted everything. This was raw, unbridled need. Their first full night together, and they could finally experience no rushing, no hurry. They had all night to explore everything between them… emotions as well as physical.
And with his kids at their mother’s place for the weekend, there would be time later for slow discoveries, for her to take control, for them to christen his shower?—
Suddenly, he froze, his body going rigid above her. His head snapped toward the locked bedroom door, eyes wide. Before she could ask what was wrong, he pulled his cock out of her so abruptly that her core spasmed at the immediate withdrawal, leaving a bereft feeling of emptiness.
"Shit!" His whispered curse cracked through the air like a gunshot. He leaped from the bed, finally meeting her confused gaze. "Grab your clothes and hide in the bathroom. My kids just came home early!"
Sandra didn't need to be told twice. She rolled off the bed, turned, and instinctively yanked the covers into some semblance of order, then snatched her panties, bra, pants, and shirt from the floor where they'd been hastily discarded.
"Dad?" a voice called from down the hall.
Her sex-fogged brain barely functioned as she grabbed her shoes and oversized purse that doubled as an overnight bag. She stumbled into his en suite bathroom, her heart hammering against her ribs.
Terry had managed to pull on jeans and a T-shirt, not bothering to look at her as he whispered, "Stay in there. Let me handle this. I need to see what's going on, then I'll get you home."
The bathroom door closed with a soft click, leaving her alone with her racing pulse. The scent of his cologne clung to her skin, and she had the hollow feeling of a good fuck cut short.
Sandra caught her reflection in the mirror above the double sinks and winced. Her hair looked like she'd been through a tornado, her cheeks were flushed crimson, and her lipstick was smeared beyond recognition. If she was about to meet his children, she needed to make some serious repairs.
She stepped into her panties and pants with shaking hands, then fastened her bra before pulling her shirt over her head. Her brush worked through the tangles in her hair, and she quickly touched up her makeup, grateful she hadn't worn much to begin with.
Staring at her reflection, she looked less like a woman who'd been interrupted just pre-orgasm and more like someone who might have a legitimate reason to be hiding in a bathroom. Thethought should have been funny, but her stomach churned with nerves instead.
This wasn't how she'd imagined meeting Terry's kids… hiding from them like a dark secret. The last thought caused her to flinch. She’d never been anyone’s secret and didn’t like the feeling. It was one thing to sneak around, but another to be in hiding.
Sandra crept to the bathroom door on silent feet and pressed her ear against the cool wood. Nothing. The house's open-concept design should have carried voices, but during her frantic journey to the bedroom, with Terry's mouth fused to hers and her body pinned against his, she'd caught only glimpses of the layout.
At the front, the living room flowed into the dining room, which flowed into the kitchen. The spaces were separated by a massive island and strategically placed furniture. He'd carried her through the main area like she weighed nothing and down a hallway that seemed to lead exclusively to his private sanctuary. She assumed the children's rooms occupied the opposite side of the house. That was perfect for maintaining adult privacy, but absolutely useless when she needed to decipher what was happening beyond these walls.
