Holly Lane (5 page)

He could blame it on his weird bad mood. Or he could blame it on her slinky pajama top. Or he could blame it on the snowstorm. All of them definitely had a hand in this, after all. But as he watched her now, asleep, pretty, her bared skin aglow in the waning firelight, he began to get hard all over again, that fast. Which meant it hadn’t just been a heat-of-the-moment indiscretion. He’d really wanted her. Sue Ann Kinman—who’d later become Sue Ann Simpkins. He’d been the best man at her wedding, for God’s sake. And he’d just never thought of her like this before. Even when he’d flirted with her today behind that reindeer head . . . well, that was a hell of a far cry from
this
. And it had been a hell of a lot simpler than this, too.

Still, now that he was thinking of her that way, he wasn’t inclined to stop. At least not yet. The afghan that had fallen from her shoulders earlier was now pulled across both their bodies, covering them from the waist down, but he was glad her breasts—just as gorgeous as he’d suspected—remained on display. Hell, it was hard to believe that he’d
had
them now—he’d held them, kissed them. And he’d been between her slender, welcoming legs.

God, the truth was, it made him feel lucky—damn lucky. Since he was fairly certain that up until now only Jeff had gotten to experience that. Which seemed like a crying shame in a way. Since he clearly hadn’t appreciated what he had.

Most people—including Adam—thought of Sue Ann as the outgoing, funny, happy, dependable wife and mom, as someone who showed up at every town event in support of every person she knew. But he was pretty sure people didn’t think of Sue Ann as . . . this gorgeous, sensual woman lying naked next to him, this woman who’d panted and moaned and writhed against him so passionately on this rug. He knew a secret side of her now, a hot and amazing side, and he felt . . . privileged.

As she stirred next to him, her breasts shifting slightly, his cock tightened. It was hard to believe this was happening, but they were in this now, and at the moment he didn’t feel like holding back. Narrowing his gaze on those breasts that had so captured his attention from the first time he’d seen her tonight, he bent and gently raked his tongue across one deliciously distended peak. The sensation raised the hair on the back of his neck and made him still harder.

And when he did it again, delivering just a light little lick across that stiffened bit of pink flesh, it brought a sexy smile to her face, even though her eyes remained closed.

“What are you thinking about that’s making you grin?” he teased, now that he knew she was awake.

“Um . . . would you believe me if I said visions of sugar plums were dancing in my head?”

He let out a laugh and said, “Not even a little.”

“What do you
think
I’m thinking about?”

He considered the question. “Maybe something like, ‘Oh my God, I just had sex with Adam.’ But I hope it’s more like, ‘Wow, that feels good and I don’t ever want him to stop.’ ”

She bit her lip, eyes still shut. “It’s probably . . . a little of both.”

“I can live with that,” he told her, then heard his voice go deeper without quite planning it. “But . . . for now, how about we just focus on the second one?”

“And I can live with
that
,” she said, finally opening her eyes to meet his.

And damn, how had he never noticed that before? How pretty her eyes were. How warm and sensual. They were the comforting, cozy sort of brown you found all around you in nature, but . . . somehow deeper, like they held secrets. Yet . . . maybe they only got that way when she was
feeling
sensual. And as he began to slowly kiss his way down her body, he continued being grateful for seeing this side of her. Maybe that was the secret in her eyes, that underneath the responsible but fun-loving mom hid this very sexy, very
sexual
woman.

He liked the hot, gentle way she hissed in her breath with each kiss he lowered to her skin—he’d started just beneath her pert breast and now moved slowly down her smooth stomach, dotted with a few freckles, and over the rounded flesh just below her belly button.

Her eyes went sort of dreamy then, her mouth dropping open halfway—maybe it had just struck her where he was headed. He wanted to make her feel good again. And he also wanted to taste her.

He heard her pretty gasp when he gently parted her legs, and she let out a hot little “Oh . . . ” as he stroked his middle finger down through her moist center. Good God, she was wet for him, fueling his lust even more. He slipped two fingers inside her at the precise moment he lowered his tongue to her tender, waiting flesh—and he loved it when her moan echoed toward the ceiling.

Sue Ann bit her lip as she watched Adam’s ministrations—because otherwise her mouth would be trembling. She couldn’t deny how excited she was by the openness of what he was doing, by how wild it felt—how very uninhibited—to be that intimate with someone new. Oh Lord—
yes, yes
. “Good,” she heard herself whisper toward the ceiling. “So good.”

She’d always been happy being a small town wife, living a small town life. Yet there was a part of her that had at least understood the desire for more, the yearning for something bigger, freer, the idea of taking life by the horns—and this, right now, felt like that, like living. So even now that she was coming back down to earth after their first sultry round of sex, even though she was feeling the wine less than before, she didn’t try to rein in her instinctive response—instead, she let herself go completely. And within moments she’d reached the pinnacle of ecstasy with him again and was crying out as—
oh God
—another powerful orgasm rushed through her like . . . well, like a blizzard. Except much hotter.

Wow.

And then she lay there basking in the afterglow, biting her lip, and once again thinking: Adam just did that to me? Really? Adam?

When he rose up and their eyes met, she said, a bit timidly, “That was . . . nice.”

He raised his eyebrows, his dark, sexy gaze pinning her in place. “Nice?”

“Okay, would spectacular make you happier?” she asked with a grin.

“Damn straight,” he said, the arrogance in his expression turning him even a little more handsome.

She went a little sheepish then—not sure what came next. “Thank you.”

“I . . . didn’t mind,” he said. Then he shut his eyes, looking like he might suddenly feel a bit weird, too. “What I mean is . . . I wanted to.” Then he shook his head, appearing slightly embarrassed. “I don’t know how to talk to you about sex,” he told her.

“I know,” she whispered.

“So how about if we just kiss instead of talk?”

She nodded, liking that idea, and he moved up alongside her on the rug, lifted his hand to her cheek, and resumed giving her more of those delicious kisses that seemed at once pure yet . . . not, since now she tasted herself on his mouth.

Soon, though, Adam disentangled himself from her and the afghan to silently rise up into the same chair he’d occupied earlier, and she wasn’t sure what that meant—were they done, taking a break, what? But from the looks of his erection—nope, there was definitely more to come, so she just knelt on the rug, waiting.

Next, he reached for the bottle of wine she hadn’t quite finished with dinner and took a big drink from it, then handed it down to her. She followed suit with one sip, then another, before holding it back out to say, “Last drink?”

“You finish it off,” he said, “and then come up here with me.”

Oh.
Okay.
We’re just going to try a new position.
I can get into that.
So she drained the wine bottle, got to her feet, and eased her way into Adam’s lap, straddling him.

And God—it felt . . . so personal to be that way with him, face-to-face without a shred of clothing. And sure, she knew sex was personal, but it was something about the nearness of his eyes right now, the unavoidability of looking at each other, of somehow acknowledging that they were really doing this,
still
doing this, quite a while after it had started.

“Will you kiss me some more?” she requested without quite planning it.

“Absolutely,” he said, his tenor deep, full of promise. And like everything else so far, once their mouths were moving against each other, Sue Ann stopped thinking so much and resumed just feeling it all, letting her soft breasts rub against his muscled chest, and letting the juncture of her thighs connect with the hard length arcing up between his legs.

She heard her own breath then, turning labored, hot—his, too—and found herself reaching between them, curling her hand around his arousal, beginning to stroke it with a firm, rhythmic caress that forced a muffled groan from his throat between kisses.

She didn’t know why she was suddenly getting aggressive, but—
mmm
—she liked being the giver of the pleasure suddenly; she liked the way he felt in her grip. And maybe those last few gulps of wine had something to do with it, but she suffered the desire to simply . . . follow her every impulse right now. Even when she was struck with a somewhat surprising one.

Because this was the one moment in life when she could do that, follow every urge. When she didn’t have to worry about Sophie. Or Destiny. Or the future. Or anything. And the honest truth was, who knew how long it might be before she was with a man again?

So she didn’t stop herself . . . from lifting, backing off his body. From easing herself down onto the floor—on her knees, between his. She still held his erection in her hand and now she studied it again, thinking it was strong and sturdy, just like Adam himself. And then she leaned inward, closer, closer, ready to follow that impulse—but unable to resist looking up at him first. “Am I shocking you?”

“Yes,” he said, appearing a little breathless.

“Is it okay?”

“God, yes.”

As best she could tell, they were the only words he could eke out, and they seemed to have come through slightly clenched teeth. He clearly hadn’t expected this, and God knew neither had she. But letting out the breath she’d been holding the last few seconds, she then lowered her lips over him, feeling the full size of him there, listening to his hot sigh and relishing it. Then she began to move her mouth up and down, pleasuring him, which in turn meant pleasuring herself, and though she still wasn’t sure what had driven her to do this particular thing at this particularly unexpected time . . . maybe she just wanted to live again, fully, without reserve. Or maybe she wanted to show Adam that she could be a generous lover, too. All she knew was that it made sense to her, and that her body wanted it.

She moved on him that way for a long while, loving the feel of his hands in her hair, his moans and murmurs—he was whispering, “God, yeah, yeah”—until finally she backed away, took the liberty of finding another condom in the wallet that lay open near his rumpled blue jeans, and knelt back between his legs to roll it on.

By which point he’d grown a little more frantic, hurried, pulling her back to where he’d wanted her in the first place, on top of him in the chair. And then he was situating her hips, pushing her down onto him, and making her cry out at the intense delight of being so forcefully filled.

She met his gaze, saw her passion reflected in his eyes, then twined her arms around his neck and kissed him for all she was worth as her body took over once more, grinding atop his, rocking and undulating in a primal dance that rose quickly to its pinnacle. They both came within a few hot, scintillating minutes, and once all the moaning and sobbing was done they rested there, bodies entangled, her head on his shoulder.

“That was amazing,” he whispered.

“Uh-huh,” she agreed. Now she was the one who’d lost the power of speech.

“Wanna get in bed, sugar plum?” he asked, making her giggle at the silly nickname, and a minute later they lay naked beneath the covers of the bottom bunk, that “top or bottom” question from earlier having taken on a whole new meaning now. They slept snuggled together, warm beneath the blankets, having long since forgotten the snowstorm that raged outside.

S
ue Ann had no idea how late it was when she awoke to a stirring beside her, then opened her eyes to see a very firm male butt crossing the dark, shadowy room to the fireplace. She bit her lip, enjoying the view as he stoked the fire and stacked a few more logs on the grate, then waited patiently for him to rejoin her in the narrow bed that made cuddling almost a necessity.

As they settled in each other’s arms, it hit her that she felt closer to Adam than she ever had before. Which was only logical, of course. But it made her wonder about earlier—and it also made her feel . . . more entitled to ask now. “Tell me something,” she began. “What really had you so upset before? I mean, I understand about the boys being gone, how that could ruin your holidays, but . . . is that truly all there was to it?”

He drew back slightly in her embrace, clearly surprised by the question. “Uh, it’s the middle of the night, Sue Ann.”

She simply sighed. Why were men always so evasive? “Is there a law against talking in the middle of the night?” She shifted onto her side then, to peer down at his darkly stubbled face. “It’s just that . . . it’s not like you to be so angry—about anything.”