She had just placed the heavy packages at the bottom of the guys’ bags when she heard her front door open. She glanced into the living room and saw Sam walking toward her. He looked pale and shaken.
“The book signing?” she asked.
He pulled out a chair and sank into it. “Oh, yeah.”
“There wasn’t a, um, demonstration, was there?”
“No.” A heavy sigh accompanied the word. “She kept her clothes on and my dad stayed in the audience.” He raised his head. “At first it was fine. She talked about marriage and staying connected, both emotionally and sexually. Then she took questions. A woman who had read her previous work asked about a sexual technique and for the next fifteen minutes my mom explained the importance of clitoral stimulation.”
Dellina sank into a chair on the opposite side of the table. She couldn’t decide if she was happy or sad that she’d missed the event.
“Did that clear the room?” she asked.
“No chance. The women were all nodding and poking their husbands in the arm, as if wanting to make sure they got the importance of the message.”
“Well, sure,” she murmured.
Sam stared at her. “Are you trying to help?”
“Not really.”
He grinned. “Fine. I’ll carry my pain on my own.”
“How can you build character otherwise?” She stood. “Can you talk while I work, because I still have to finish these bags, then go over the schedule one more time.”
“Sure. Let me help.” He rose and moved next to her. “Tell me what goes where.”
She pointed to the list on the wall. “In that order, please. I’ve played around with how to fit everything into the bags without them getting crushed. Then we put them in the large boxes for delivery in the morning.”
Which all sounded so professional when what she was really thinking was how well Sam had known his way around her clitoris that lone night they’d been together. And that while the lessons his mother taught could be embarrassing, they had a purpose. Education was important. Like her learning about her G-spot and how she still wanted to know where it was, exactly, and what it felt like when it was happy.
But those fantasies were for another time, she told herself firmly. Right now she had gift bags to prep and a thousand details to get to before she could sleep.
* * *
DELLINA DRIFTED IN that blissful not-quite-awake semisleep. She’d been up until after midnight, but it had been worth it. When she’d finally gone to bed, it had been with the knowledge that she was as ready as she could be. There was no need to panic. She was prepared for whatever the day might offer.
She opened her eyes and sighed. She’d slept really well. Given the short night, she’d expected to be more tired. But she was energized. As if she’d gotten her full eight hours instead of a mere—
She turned to her clock and screamed. Eight-thirty? Eight-thirty? No! She’d set her alarm, hadn’t she? She was going to get up at six and be ready. Fayrene was bringing the van at nine. They had to be at the hotel by ten. She’d paid extra to have access to the meeting rooms this morning. There was still so much to do.
She jumped out of bed and collected her clothes, then dashed down the hall. She threw herself into the bathroom, slammed the door shut and turned on the water.
In record time she’d brushed her teeth, washed her face and leaped into the shower. She didn’t have time to wash her hair, so she pinned it on top of her head. Wash, rinse and she was out. Naked and dripping, she reached for her towel just as the bathroom door pushed open.
Dellina remembered instantly that she hadn’t locked the door. She’d been too much in a hurry, plus she hadn’t been thinking that she had a temporary roommate. And while him seeing her dripping and na**d was embarrassing, it wasn’t the end of the world. He’d seen her without her clothes before.
She closed her hand around her towel, all the while expecting him to apologize and then back out of the room. Only he didn’t. He stared at her with a combination of desire and need that made her legs shaky.
He swore softly, reached for her, swore again, then took a step back.
“The door wasn’t locked,” he said, his voice gritty and thick.
There wasn’t any time, she thought. This was insane. They’d already agreed on ground rules. There were a thousand reasons to say, “Hey, no problem,” and then cover herself. To pretend this had never happened. It was the smart thing to do. It was sensible. It was impossible.
“Sam,” she breathed.
His jaw tightened. For one agonizing second he didn’t move. Then he ripped open his shirt and dropped it to the floor even as he surged toward her. His arms came around her as she clung to him. Then his mouth was on hers and nothing else mattered.
CHAPTER TWELVE
HE CLAIMED HER with a kiss that shook her to her toes. Lips pressed. Breath mingled. Dellina parted instantly and he pushed his tongue inside her mouth. She stroked hers against his, wanting the friction and teasing arousal. But it was difficult to concentrate on his kisses when his hands roamed over her bare, wet body.
He explored her back, then her rear before cupping her curves and squeezing. She arched against him and felt that he was already hard. Very hard. His hands moved around to her front, then up to her breasts. His long, skilled fingers found her already tight ni**les and brushed against the very tips.
Wanting burned so hot, she melted. Between her legs she ached as her body swelled in anticipation. She fumbled with his belt and got it open, then undid his jeans and pushed them down.
He pulled back enough to shove off the rest of his clothes. He was already barefoot. He kicked everything out of the way, then dropped to his knees and eased her thighs apart. She barely had time to grab the sink for support before he was holding her open with his fingers and licking the very heart of her.
It was too much, she thought, gasping for air as his tongue moved back and forth against her clitoris. Too good, too soon, too early. But she didn’t want him to stop. Not when he did those little circles, pausing only to suck deeply.
He moved his hands to her h*ps and shifted her slightly, then raised her left foot so it rested on the tub. She was exposed and waited to feel embarrassed. But before she could summon the emotion, he pushed two fingers deep inside of her and curled them upward. She felt delicious pressure, then an odd rubbing.
It was as if he was caressing her cl*tfrom the back. But more than that. Deeper. She pushed down to increase the pressure. She gasped as those fingers rubbed and stroked and his tongue circled. The sensations blended until she was at their mercy, unable to do anything but breathe and feel and then surrender to the inevitable cl**ax that gripped her so tightly she had no choice but to scream her release.
“Oh, Sam!” she gasped as she started to come. “Please!”
He touched her from the inside and the outside, drawing every last quiver until she was spent.
“Condoms.”
The word came out in a near-guttural moan. She opened her eyes and watched him stand. He was hard and shaking and staring at her with an intensity that nearly made her swoon.
The meaning of what he wanted sank in. She turned and pulled open the medicine chest, then handed him an unopened box.
The paper lid went flying. He pulled one out, had it on and her turned back to him in less than three seconds. A heartbeat after that, she was on the counter, her legs spread and he pushed inside of her.
His sharp exhalation told her how close he’d been to the edge and the knowledge made her shiver. She wrapped her legs around his h*ps and pulled him in closer.
He filled her deeply, making her arch against him. More, she thought hazily. If he did this for a little bit longer, she would come again. If he just—
His hands returned to her breasts. Her ni**les were still tight, but so sensitive from her recent cl**ax. When he began to massage them, she nearly told him it was too much. Only then he was rubbing and touching her ni**les all the while pressing his fingers in just below them. And he found a spot that connected directly to her very core.
Her eyes flew open and she found him watching her.
“What are you doing to me?” she asked.
He smiled as he pushed in again. At the same time he squeezed and pushed or twisted and—
Who cares, she thought as she lost herself in a second cl**ax. She pulled him in as deeply as she could. Her body convulsed around his. He pumped harder and faster until he, too, came and then they were holding each other and trying to catch their breath.
“Your mother is amazing,” Dellina said when she could speak again.
Sam looked at her and started to laugh.
* * *
“WE ARE SO LATE,” Dellina said as she picked up clothes off the towel rack and ran into the hallway. “Late, late, late.”
Sam knew she was right, but he couldn’t begin to care. Damn, talk about a great way to start the day.
He pulled on his briefs, then his jeans and followed her down the hall. His reward was the sight of her slipping on her bra, then adjusting her breasts. She shimmied into jeans, pulled on a blouse and wrapped it around her. She turned and saw him.
“Stop it! You have that smile.”
He leaned against the wall. “What smile?”
“The one that says you just got laid. Do you want everyone to know? What time is it? Oh, my God. It’s nine. Fayrene will be here any second. Get your shirt on.”
She was frazzled, he thought with satisfaction. Rattled and scattered and all those other words that describe a woman after she’d had her world rocked. Yeah, that was good and he was the man who’d made it happen.
From outside came the sound of a vehicle pulling into the driveway.
Dellina shrieked and ran into her bedroom. She came back in flats and was pulling pins out of her hair. “Get dressed,” she told him as she raced past. “Fayrene can’t suspect. Do I look guilty? I feel like I look guilty.”
“You look beautiful.”
She paused and smiled at him, then shook her head. “Don’t talk nice to me. We have to be completely normal.”
“I am nice when I’m normal.”
“You know what I mean.”
She walked to the door and smoothed her hair. “Okay. This is fine. I’m ready.” She reached for the handle.
“Dellina?”
She turned to him and raised her eyebrows. “Yes?”
“In case you were wondering, that was your G-spot.”
* * *
KIPLING LIVED A half-life of near-consciousness. Even when he was out, he was aware of the pain, but when the drugs were working, he didn’t care. It hummed in the background but didn’t touch him. But when the drugs faded, then there was the agony of a thousand shattered bones. Shards and swelling and lacerations. The carefully stitched seams from his surgeries.
He’d been moved. He knew that. And he could breathe on his own. The nurses were less quiet, less worried, in this new room. They still monitored him too closely and talked about fluids in and out in such a way that he knew he must be on a catheter. That particular hell was one he didn’t want to think about.
“Kip?”
The soft voice was familiar. Perhaps the only one in the world he had always loved. He forced his eyes open. The room swam at first, then settled and he saw Shelby standing by his bed.
He saw her eyes first. Big and blue. Like his own. They had that in common, along with their dark blond hair. Both inherited from their mutual father. They had different mothers, though. That showed in the rest of their features. Shelby was small boned and delicate. Like a fairy princess come to life. Only no fairy princess should have a fist-size bruise on her face.
“I’m going to kill him,” he said, or at least he tried. His mouth was dry and speaking was harder than he’d thought it would be.
“Kip.” His baby half sister leaned close and kissed his cheek. “Oh, Kip, I’ve been so worried. They said you nearly died.”
She took his uninjured hand in hers and squeezed. “I came as soon as I heard.”
“I wish you hadn’t.”
She’d flown halfway around the world and for what? To watch him lie in a hospital bed? He’d been injured before—they both knew the drill. Although what he would never admit was that he hadn’t been hurt this bad before. He wouldn’t acknowledge the chill of fear that whispered this time was different. This time meant he would never compete again, never ski professionally. This time, maybe he wouldn’t walk.
The doctors hadn’t said anything and he didn’t ask, but he wasn’t a fool. And the possibility of how bad it could be terrified him.
Shelby touched his face. “You look terrible.”
“Always with the compliments.” He freed his hand and pushed the button to raise the bed, then studied her. “Dammit, Shelby, what are you doing back home?”
“You know why I’m there.”
He did. Shelby’s mother had cancer. She’d been in remission for a while, but it was back. Staying with her mom meant staying with her dad. And when Nigel Gilmore drank, he was a mean sonofabitch.
“She only has a few more weeks,” Shelby told him. “I can stand it.” She pressed the back of her hand against her cheek. “Normally I stay out of his way, but she’d had a bad night and he caught me sleeping.”
Kipling closed his eyes against the image of his father hitting Shelby while she slept. He swore. Normally he would fly to Colorado and go see his father himself. Those ugly visits usually kept Shelby safe for at least a couple of months. But he wasn’t going anywhere for a very long time.
She took his hand again. “I’m okay. I’ll be fine. The second she’s gone, I’ll leave. You know that, right? I’d never stay there if it wasn’t for her.”