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  “Flynn,” she finally gasped.

  He released her, letting her rock back onto his hips. A small smile played around her lips as she tore open the foil square in her hands and removed the condom. He watched through slitted eyes as she smoothed the latex onto him with confident, sure hands. Then she rose above him, gripping him in her hand as she sank onto his erection.

  She was tight and hot and he almost disgraced himself. Almost. She made a small, needy sound and started to move. He gripped her hips and watched as she bit her lip and closed her eyes and got lost in the sensation rising inside her. When she started to pant and lose her own rhythm, he lifted his hips off the bed and rolled her over, quickly reversing their positions. She stared up at him, her gray eyes pleading with him. He kissed her as he pushed inside her.

  “It’s okay, Mel, we’ll get there,” he murmured against her lips.

  Then he set himself to the task of proving it to her.

  MEL CLOSED HER EYES and bit her lip to stifle a moan as Flynn moved deeply inside her. His mouth was on her breasts, his big, powerful body pressing hers into the mattress, and she was so close, so close…

  Inexplicably, his pace slowed, his thrusts becoming more leisurely. She opened her eyes to find him watching her, an earthy, heated knowledge in his eyes. He shifted his attention to her other nipple as his hand slid between their bodies to where she needed him the most. He found her with his thumb and began to tease her with small, gentle circles, the rhythm echoing his leisurely strokes inside her body. Everything in her wanted to come, wanted to strain toward coming, but the message Flynn was sending her with his body was that there was no rush.

  No need to strain. No need to race anyone to the finish line.

  Joint by joint, muscle by muscle, she allowed herself to relax. Allowed herself to fall into the long, sensuous stroking of his body within hers, allowed herself to revel in the slow, spreading pleasure building between her thighs. She gave herself over utterly to the experience, moaning and twisting beneath him as the need took her, running her hands up and down his big, beautiful body, languishing in his deep, thorough kisses, relishing the way he supped at her breasts, licking and sucking and biting.

  And then, suddenly, she was arching off the bed, her climax rolling over her in a huge, pulsating wave, Flynn deep inside her as she cried out his name and forgot to breathe for long, long seconds.

  She felt him shudder, felt the hot gust of his breath against her shoulder as he gasped out his own climax. Her fingers gripped his backside as he tensed inside her…and finally relaxed into dead weight, his head dropping onto her shoulder.

  She closed her eyes, the better to appreciate the utter satisfaction pulsing through her body. He was still inside her, and she could feel his heart pounding. She ran her hands along his body in a slow, relaxed exploration, smoothing over the muscular planes of his back, shaping his rounded buttocks, discovering the backs of his thighs. After a few minutes he stirred and lifted his weight off her chest. She opened her eyes to find him watching her, a small smile on his lips.

  “How you doin’?” he asked.

  “I’m doin’ okay.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  His smile broadened into a grin. She punched him lightly on the arm. “Okay, now you’re getting dangerously close to smug territory.”

  “You know, I think I’m willing to risk it.”

  He kissed her, his lips gentle. When he lifted his head again there was no mistaking the tenderness in his eyes. He withdrew from her and she watched as he left the bed to dispose of the condom. His backside was solid muscle and she watched the bounce of his butt cheeks with shameless appreciation. When he exited the en suite she was treated to a full frontal and it was all she could do to suppress an admiring sigh.

  He had a beautiful body—well proportioned, muscular but not overly so, with long, powerful thighs, a hard, flat belly and the exact right amount of chest hair.

  She’d assumed he was going to get straight back beneath the covers, but instead he stopped by the foot of the bed and cocked an eyebrow at her.

  “Seen enough?” he asked cheekily.

  Busted.

  She laughed. Couldn’t help herself. “Are you accusing me of ogling you?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I am.”

  He bent and scooped up his abandoned scarf, looping it around his neck. Then he strutted toward her in perfect imitation of a catwalk model, all haughty looks and cheekbones and pout, gorgeously, undeniably, utterly naked bar the scarf arranged jauntily around his neck. When he reached the bedside table, he did a sharp turn and strutted in the opposite direction, working it for all he was worth.

  He should have looked ridiculous, but he didn’t. He looked spectacular. Gorgeous. Too cute for words. She didn’t know whether to laugh, applaud or drag him back into bed, so she settled for grabbing hold of the scarf when he made his second pass by the bed.

  “Stop being a tease,” she said, using the scarf to reel him in.

  “You’re the one doing the teasing, making promises with your eyes like that,” he said as he climbed onto the bed.

  Excitement kicked inside her as he drew back the covers and pressed his body over hers again. She could feel him growing hard against her thighs and answering heat surged through her belly.

  “It’s only teasing if you don’t follow through,” she said.

  “That’s an excellent point.”

  She slid a hand between their bodies to capture his growing erection. “Actually, I think you’ll find this is an excellent point.”

  He laughed, the sound loud and uninhibited. “I stand corrected.”

  He lowered his head and started to kiss and lick and suck her neck, even as one of his hands began a slow, sensual glide down her body. She let her head fall to one side, savoring the slide of skin on skin, the feel of him beneath her hand, the wet velvet of his tongue on her neck.

  Had she known, deep inside, that it would be like this with him? Was that why it had been so hard to make herself be sensible where he was concerned?

  She let go of thought as instinct took over. Right at this moment, nothing else mattered except the need and the want and the desire burning between them. Everything else—the world, the future, the past—could wait.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  MEL WOKE WITH A START, very aware of the heavy, warm weight of a male arm wrapped around her. Her first impulse was to roll away, to push him away. And then she remembered: this was Flynn lying beside her, not Owen, and she was in her own home, in her own bed, not trapped in an unhappy marriage.

  She let out the breath she’d been holding and tried to enjoy the fact that it was Flynn, listening to his steady breathing, remembering last night. They’d made love three times, laughing and talking and teasing each other until need had taken over. Mel couldn’t remember ever laughing so much with a man in the bedroom. Not that there was anything laughable about Flynn’s body or his lovemaking—far from it. But he was playful and irreverent and self-deprecating and cheeky and—sometimes—daring. It was hard not to laugh and be engaged by and seduced by a man who was so beautiful, knowing, tender and funny, and she’d thrown herself into the experience—into his arms—with complete abandon.

  And she’d survived. Lying in his arms the morning after, she had no regrets. Not a single one. But it had never been the sex she’d been worried about. It was what came after the sex that scared the hell out of her.

  Flynn stirred behind her, drawing her closer. She tensed. Even though she knew it was completely irrational, she still felt hemmed in and suffocated. She needed some breathing room.

  Moving slowly, she eased Flynn’s arm from around her waist and rolled away from him. She padded quietly into the en suite and shut the door. She took care of business, then washed her face, wishing she could wash away the shadows of the past so easily. She studied herself in the mirror. She looked tired, her mouth a little swollen. Her eyes were anxious. Worried.

  She
pulled her hair back from her face and took a deep breath, letting it out. She reminded herself that this relationship was new and fresh, untainted by the dynamics that had ruined her marriage. For starters, Flynn was a far more secure man than Owen had ever been. And, of course, she and Flynn weren’t married. They didn’t share a bedroom or a home, she didn’t answer to him, her fate wasn’t tied to him. She was her own person, and Flynn his.

  These were all good things to remember, good things to remind herself of.

  Drying her face, she opened the bathroom door, ready to slip into bed.

  “Good morning.” Flynn was propped against the pillows with his arms behind his head, his hair mussed, his eyes heavy from sleep. He looked warm and sexy and interested, his gaze roaming over her body.

  Her hands twitched with the instinctive desire to either cover herself like Botticelli’s Venus or grab something to hide behind. Last night, she’d ogled him shamelessly and he’d done his little catwalk thing, but she didn’t feel nearly as brave in the cold light of day. For starters, there was a lot more natural light in the room this morning than there had been last night. Then there was the fact that it had been a while since she’d done a sit-up or an ab-crunch and even longer since she’d subjected herself to a bikini wax. A few hours ago, none of that had mattered, but with Flynn staring at her so openly, every flaw, every feature, felt as though it was under the microscope.

  Somehow she resisted the impulse to scuttle into bed. Instead, she squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye.

  “Good morning,” she said. “Would you like coffee?”

  He dragged his gaze to her face, looking rather gratifyingly distracted.

  “You should probably know that if you told me you had an invisible jet parked around the corner right now, I’d totally believe you,” he said, his tone bordering on the reverential.

  She laughed, even as her confidence skyrocketed. “Aren’t you a little old for Wonder Woman fantasies?”

  “No one is too old for Wonder Woman fantasies.” He flipped the quilt back on the empty side of the bed. “Come back to bed and I’ll let you use your golden lasso on me.”

  “Make a girl an offer she can’t refuse, why don’t you.”

  She approached the bed, aware of him watching her every move with focused avidity. There was so much admiration and lust in his gaze that it was impossible for her not to be flattered. She climbed onto the bed and began a slow crawl toward him. His eyelids dropped to half-mast as he watched her gently swaying breasts.

  “You didn’t have plans today, did you?” he asked as she drew closer.

  “Nothing concrete.”

  “Good.”

  He abandoned his casual posture and reached for her, pulling her into his lap.

  Two hours and a shower later, she watched Flynn get dressed as she fastened the back clasp on her bra.

  “You know if men had to wear bras they’d have electromagnetic catches and Kevlar cups, right?” he said as he zipped up his jeans.

  “Sure. You guys would probably sneak a phone transmitter in there somewhere, too. Maybe even a miniature TV screen.”

  “Now you’re talking. Not that I have anything against black lace, for the record. I wouldn’t want you getting the wrong idea on that one.”

  “Noted. Thanks.”

  She pulled her red sweater from her chest of drawers.

  “So, where am I taking you for lunch?” Flynn asked. “We seem to have skipped breakfast altogether. Not sure how that happened.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “I have a few ideas, but it’s all just a blur, really. I may need a play-by-play reenactment later on to refresh my memory.”

  “Poor you.”

  He was grinning shamelessly as he pulled her close for a quick kiss. “So, where am I taking you?”

  “It’s the first Sunday of the month, so the market is on in the village if you want to see what’s happening?”

  “Great. I’ve been meaning to hunt down the driftwood guy you mentioned.”

  They took Flynn’s car and were forced to park on a side street because the shopping center lot was full to overflowing. A series of stalls were set up on the village green and they paid the small entry fee to the Lions Club volunteer at a makeshift booth on the walkway then began a slow trawl of the stalls. A few minutes in, Flynn slid his arm around her shoulders. A rush of emotion welled up inside her as her hip bumped his and they automatically adjusted their gaits to suit.

  She’d forgotten how good it felt to spend time with someone who genuinely liked her, someone who treated her with respect and warm affection. Crazy to think that toward the end of her marriage the only place she and Owen had touched voluntarily had been in the bedroom.

  The driftwood man wasn’t at the market this month for some reason, so they settled on buying a loaf of sourdough bread, a jar of homemade jam and a bag of crisp red apples before finding a table at Pop and Selma’s Café. They ordered an omelette and pancakes and ate half each—another couple pleasure she’d forgotten—then walked slowly to the car, talking and laughing.

  They sat on the back porch at her place and ate apples and drank coffee, then Flynn drew her into his lap and she discovered how talented he was at getting inside her clothes with the least fuss possible. They tumbled back into bed and it was late in the evening by the time Flynn dressed and left for Melbourne. Mel stood on the porch huddled in her dressing gown long after his taillights had faded into the night, feeling dazed, her body a little tender.

  Arms wrapped tightly around herself, she entered her house. It felt empty now that he was gone—a dangerous acknowledgement. She saw the light was flashing on the answering machine as she passed the study on her way to the bedroom. She stepped into the room and hit the play button.

  “It’s me. Call me when you get a chance, okay?” It was Justine, her voice carefully neutral.

  It was too late to call now, thank God. Mel didn’t particularly want to fend off her sister’s well-intentioned inquisition. Not right now, anyway. She was still coming down to earth after twenty-four hours of amazing sex.

  It was more than amazing sex and you know it.

  She did, but she didn’t want to think about any of that right now. She was already edging her way toward a precipice she’d promised never to approach again. It was enough that she’d let Flynn into her life. The rest she would deal with later.

  Much later.

  FLYNN COULDN’T GET the smile off his face as he took the freeway back to Melbourne. Mel was…

  He didn’t have the words. Beautiful, sexy, funny, warm, earthy, challenging, smart, adorable. Okay, he had a few words, but none of them felt adequate to the task of describing how he felt when he was with her. She made him feel more. More alive. More aware. More present. She made him want more, too. But he was smart enough to know not to push things with her. Not in that way. Not yet.

  So he resisted the urge to call her just to hear her voice before he went to bed, and he resisted the urge to call her first thing the next morning. His self-discipline failed at lunchtime, however, when his inbox chimed and he saw he had a message from her.

  Just checking that you got back okay and that Gertie behaved herself.

  He pushed aside the marketing brochure he was reading and pulled his keyboard toward himself.

  Gertie behaved. I arrived. When can I see you again?

  There was a short pause before she responded.

  What suits you? I can come up to town if it’s easier for you.

  With his crazy workload it was easier, and they settled on the following evening—dinner out then back to his place for what he hoped was the night. He booked the local Thai place and made a mental note to change the sheets. Then he dove into work with renewed enthusiasm.

  Mel was coming. She was going to stay at his place. She was allowing him in.

  He left work on time for the first time in months the following evening. His assistant stared at him as he walked past, coat over h
is arm.

  “Do you have a dinner meeting?” She started checking his diary, a frown on her face.

  “I’m going home. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mary.”

  Mel’s car was parked in front of his town house when he arrived. He pulled into the garage and collected his briefcase. She was waiting for him on the front doorstep when he exited the garage. He frowned when he saw she was only carrying her handbag.

  “You’re not staying?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  He wanted to ask what she wasn’t sure about, but decided to concentrate on the positive instead of the negative. She was here, and once he had her on the other side of his front door he could get her naked.

  He proceeded to do just that and they were nearly an hour late for their dinner booking. Fortunately it was a Tuesday night and the restaurant wasn’t overly busy so they weren’t forced to go hungry. Afterward, they went back to his place and had coffee before he made love to her on the sofa with the late-night news playing in the background.

  He slipped into a doze afterward and woke to find Mel collecting her clothes from the floor.

  “Where are you going?” he asked drowsily.

  “You should be in bed.”

  “Come with me and it’s a deal.”

  She hesitated a moment before nodding. He led her upstairs to the bedroom, where he watched, amused, as she pulled her toothbrush from her handbag and proceeded to brush her teeth.

  “Prepared for any contingency, Ms. Porter?”

  “I like to keep my options open.”

  It was an offhand comment, but it stuck in his mind as they got into bed together. He curled his body around hers and kissed the nape of her neck and told himself that he needed to chill a little. It was early days with Mel—very early days—and he needed to stop reading so much into everything.

  Right now, right this minute, life was good. Only an idiot would throw that away in order to worry about some nebulous future.