Her Summer with the Marine: A Donovan Brothers Novel (Entangled Bliss) (8 page)

Here was another point where she could say stop. She knew it. And she suspected he knew it. But she ran her hands down his bare back, and holy crap, did he feel good. Smooth skin. Corded muscles.

Nemesis or not, this felt right. Wonderful. It was the chance she’d always wanted for a do-over on their one and only time together. Instead of arguing with herself or waiting to find the perfect place to end it, maybe she should just take it?

With one quick push on his shoulder, she tumbled him to his back. Before he could react, she straddled him. With her bra gone and her panties saturated with her need, she felt bold, wanton. Perfect.

She started working the catch of his jeans.

He blinked. “What’s this?”

“This is just a little taste of grown-up Ellie.”

“Grown-up Ellie?”

“You think I stayed the same in nine years? That I didn’t get a little experience?”

She skimmed her fingers down his smooth, muscular chest, then bent down, kissed his mouth, and ran her hands from his pecs to his navel. She brought them back up again, luxuriating in the texture of his skin. When she reached his shoulders, she leaned down and brushed her breasts against the stubble on his chin.

She was right. It felt crazy good. Sinfully wonderful.

He caught her arms and flipped her, turning the tables again.

She blinked. “How am I going to show you what I’ve learned?”

“I don’t want to know what you’ve learned. This isn’t chemistry.” He frowned. “Maybe it is. But that’s actually my point. Forget about technique, and let’s just let the lust rule.”

A rush of sizzling tingles scurried through her. She had to swallow before she could say, “Then you’re going to have to get rid of those jeans.”

He nipped her lips. “And you’re going to have to get rid of those undies.” But he bent, rolled his tongue along the soft flesh of her breast and captured her nipple.

She groaned at the molten heat that ignited her blood. He put his hands behind her back, lifting her chest as if presenting her for his feasting pleasure. He nipped and sucked, rolling her nipple around his mouth until she thought she’d die from the pleasure, then he started on the other nipple.

She moaned and he pulled his hands from behind her back, though his mouth never left her straining nipple. She heard the soft
swish
of the zipper on his jeans. He released her breast, rolled to the side, and kicked them off. She did as he’d instructed and tossed her black panties across the room. When he rolled back to her, his erection pressed against her thigh.

Just when she might have had a second thought about what they were doing, he slid his hand to her stomach and down to her thighs. She didn’t for one second think he’d forgotten his way or miscalculated. He was soothing her, preparing her, because in the next second, his fingers were on her sensitive nub. The heat that had been ratcheting through her became a crackle of electricity that exploded in her middle.

From there, everything got crazy. He slid his fingers inside her and she reached for his erection. She’d have given every cent she had to be able to put her mouth on him, but the ache inside her knew there wasn’t time. He slipped away, pulled his wallet from his jeans pocket, and got a condom.

When he returned to her, she arched and he pinned her shoulders to the bed, rising above her, opening her thighs with a knee, and then plunging inside.

She nearly fell apart right then and there. The heat and strength of him filled every soft, wet inch of her. He pulled out and slid in again, creating a friction that took her so high her breath shivered. He kept the tempo slow and even, taking her to the brink and then pulling her back until she groaned and writhed beneath him.

“Now, High Heels, don’t you think you’re being a little impatient? I don’t know about you, but I waited nine years for this do-over.”

So had she. Sort of. She might not have put it into words, but now that she was getting a second chance, she should be enjoying it.

She shoved at his shoulder at the same time that she used her thigh to knock him off-balance. He tumbled to his side and she rolled on top of him. If he was only hers for tonight, she was doing all the things she should have done nine years ago. Before he could protest, she put her mouth on his, kissing him deeply, wantonly. He stilled beneath her, then his hands came up to her back, caressing, kneading.

She ran her lips along his jaw, enjoying the tickling sensation of his day-old stubble, then drew them down his neck, across his collarbone, to his chest. She intended to lick or taste every inch of him, but when she ran her tongue along his nipple, he sucked in a breath and reversed their positions again.

This time, he pounded into her. No more slow and even, or fun and games. Her twenty seconds of touching him seemed to have let something loose inside of him and he roared to life, taking her higher and further, harder and faster until she shattered. Her orgasm tore through her, pulling a scream from deep inside her.

He plunged in again. And again. And again. Restarting the heat, building the momentum until she came a second time. Then he pushed in harder and faster until he shuddered.

He fell on top of her, nestling his face in her neck. She still tingled, still shuddered, still wanted to feel him against her.

Reality finally caught up with her. What was she doing?

What had she
done
?

She squeezed her eyes shut, remembering the wanton way she’d kissed him, the way she’d wanted to taste every inch of him, and the way he hadn’t held back. As he’d said, he’d let the lust rule.

And her bedroom—the entire world—became silent.

She knew why they hadn’t resisted temptation. They were hot for each other. But now reality was back.

…

His head on the soft, Ellie-scented pillow, Finn ran his fingers though his already messed-up hair. Confusion raced through his brain, competing with the warm, mellow afterglow of sex.

He shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d come to the person who’d consoled him the last time he’d stood up to his dad. He might have won this round, tossing the old man out of his business instead of getting tossed out of the family home, but he’d been so angry he couldn’t work. And what had he done? Found Ellie.

Waited for Ellie.

He’d only intended to joke around, get himself into a better mood, but then he’d somehow insulted her and they’d gone into her house. Though she’d argued with him, her big brown eyes had gotten that sexy, shiny look that told him she found him as attractive as he found her, and everything kind of got away from him.

But she’d been right there with him. She’d wanted him as much as he’d wanted her.

“I’m not going to apologize.”

She put her arm over her eyes. “Oh, Lord, please don’t.”

“It’s just that sometimes when you get sassy with me, it turns me on.”

She didn’t say anything.

The need to explain climbed up from his gut and lodged in his chest. There couldn’t really be anything between them. She was, after all, the competition. But he’d been in a state when he pulled his bike into her driveway, and she should know he hadn’t intended to seduce her—or be seduced. He’d just wanted to talk. “I actually came over here hoping you could make me laugh.”

She sat up. “Really?”

He caught her gaze. Her eyes were round and curious. As if their attraction puzzled her. It didn’t puzzle him; they were kind of the same. Always had been. She’d had troubles that drove her to be the best so she could get into a good school and leave town. He’d had troubles that drove him to want to be the best so he could get a scholarship and leave town. Add her cute little smile and sexy little body to that, and, well…it was a wonder they didn’t spontaneously combust.

“We had such a good laugh this morning over the way I sneaked into your funeral that I wasn’t prepared when I went back to work and found my dad.”

She sat up a little farther. “Your dad?”

“He was there with my mom, trying to pretend everything was peachy.”

“Everything wasn’t peachy?”

Okay. He understood that she might not get it about the little lust thing they had going on. But why did she have such a confused look on her face now? He’d told her about his dad nine years ago.

“No. Everything wasn’t peachy. I told you before, he beats her. He used to beat me, Cade, and Devon, too, but we got out. It took us this long to get our lives settled enough that we could help her, but I’m here now and I got her to move in with me.”

Realizing he was shouting, he reined in his temper. He was mad at his dad, not Ellie. He liked Ellie. Maybe a little too much for a competitor. “She’s been at my house for weeks. I guess he must have thought eventually she’d come home. But she didn’t, so he came to the funeral home today.”

Ellie cleared her throat. “Why the funeral home?”

“Because she also works for me.”

“Oh.”

The room grew quiet, but Finn felt okay. Just as he had after they’d made love the first time. Telling her didn’t change anything, but it always made him feel better.

And he suddenly remembered he’d left Margaret sitting at Donovan’s.

He rolled over and pinned Ellie to the bed again. “I really hate to kiss and run, but I got a funeral.”

“Margaret Wojak.”

With their chests touching and their legs tangled, her warmth filled him. He slid his hand down the curve of her side, longing to run his fingers through the hair that curled around her ears. He would have paid good money to be able to stay.

Regret filled his voice. “I’ve gotta go.”

“I know.”

He wanted to say, “I’ll be back,” but he couldn’t. For as much as his hormones and her hormones seemed to mesh, they were fighting for the business of a small town that only had enough work to support one funeral home.

He had to win.

She had to win.

And that’s why they were both suddenly so awkward, so quiet.

He glanced around. His clothes were all over the place. Her bra had landed on a chair. Her sexy black panties were by the door. He didn’t even remember taking them off.

Wow.

He knew he’d do this again if she as much as crooked her finger in his direction. Not that he was weak, but they were that good together. And he could separate business from pleasure. But her life was a mess. And maybe her silence meant she couldn’t.

He rolled off her and out of bed. He gathered his clothes and slipped into them before he sat on a convenient chair to put on his shoes.

Rising, he caught her gaze. She didn’t smile. He supposed he didn’t expect her to.

They were competitors and now they were going to have to deal with the consequences of falling victim to their hormones. Or she was. He’d quite happily separate their business and their pleasure.

But the silence that followed him out the door told him she wasn’t quite so forward-thinking.

…

Ellie heard the front door open and close, and listened to his footfalls on all thirteen steps to the porch. When they finally stopped, she collapsed onto her pillow.

She stared at the ceiling, trying to put it all together in her head and failing. She got the part about their lust. No problem understanding that. But the part about his dad? The same story he’d told her the first time they’d done this, that Jeb Donovan, bank president, Rotary member, church usher, beat his wife and kids?

She’d thought that was the lie of a seventeen-year-old, trying to get into her pants—which would psych her out. But this time, there was no test tomorrow. And this time, she’d wanted it as much as he had.

So why the hell tell her that lie again?

Unless it wasn’t a lie?

Unless his dad really had come to his place of business to try to sweet-talk his mom home?

And Finn really had come to her wanting to talk?

The music of her ringtone blasted from the kitchen into the quiet room. She got out of bed, raced to the table, and pulled her phone from her purse. Not bothering to look at the caller ID, she said, “McDermott’s.”

“I figured out how to counteract losing the Wojak funeral,” Ashley said excitedly.

“I didn’t lose the funeral; it wasn’t up for grabs. Margaret had already made arrangements with Finn. But that’s actually good because Finn reminded me today I don’t have to wait for people to die. I can start selling prepaid funerals.”

“Oh. So that takes care of things?”

“Getting the idea is just the tip of the iceberg. I have to set goals, sell a certain number of packages. Then I have to set up the account with the bank so they can actually do the financing—”

Her gaze fell to her dress, puddled on the floor, and she swallowed. As a teenage girl it had been easy to conceptualize Finn’s dad beating him. Because she was thinking about
Finn
, not his dad. As an adult, she couldn’t imagine respected bank president Jeb Donovan hurting his family. Of course, at this point, Finn had no reason to lie. Or exaggerate. And he had said he’d moved his mother out of his dad’s house.

“Ellie? Are you there?”

She drew a breath. “There’s a lot of setup work involved in making prepaid arrangements. Plus, it’s not going to be easy for me to sell in this town. I don’t have the connections Finn has.”

“And you need connections to sell the packages?”

She walked back down the hall, not wanting to have this normal, logical conversation with Ashley when she was naked.

“I’ve got to have at least a foot in the door with people. I can’t just walk up to them and say, hey, wanna buy a funeral package?”

Ashley laughed happily. “This is perfect.”

“Perfect?”

“Yes. I called to suggest you join the Dinner Belles.”

Positive she hadn’t heard correctly, Ellie said, “Join the Dinner Belles?”

“Your goal is to sell funeral packages. But to do that you need a foot in the door. So you join the group and ease your way in.”