A Convenient Proposal(37)

“Did you work construction on your six months off?” Arden had, incredibly, taken a step closer. “You’ve got a good tan.”

He wasn’t sure his brain retained enough blood supply to answer even simple questions. “I volunteered at some, uh, animal clinics on the islands. Most of them needed structural repairs. So, yeah, I worked construction.”

Her hand alighted on his arm. “That doesn’t sound like the wastrel you first implied you were.” She stroked up to his shoulder. “I’m not the only one with mysteries, Dr. Campbell.”

“Let’s clear this one up right away. Are you by any chance seducing me?”

She watched as her other hand came to rest on his chest. “I think so.” Then she looked into his face. “Yes.”

“Glad to hear it.” His shirt fell to the floor as he shaped the curve of her waist with his hands. “For a second there, I was afraid I’d wake up and discover you’re just a dream.”

“No dream.” On tiptoe, she pressed her lips against his mouth. “No Igor.”

“No complaints.”

In the next instant, he pulled the cranberry-colored sweater she wore over her head, letting it fall somewhere behind her. Underneath, she wore a silky beige camisole and bra. He ached to get those off her, too.

But he couldn’t concentrate because Arden had her hands all over him—his chest, his stomach, the bones of his ribs and the muscles of his back. Kneading, stroking, lightly scraping her nails over his skin, she had a good grasp of exactly what to do to drive him crazy.

And then she started using her mouth.

Griff bore it as long as he could, until his knees wobbled and his thighs shook and he knew he wouldn’t be standing in another minute. Wrapping his arms tight around her, he walked both of them to the bed.

Sitting almost immediately became lying, and then Arden moved on top of him, with a knee on either side, to continue the torture.

“You have to know,” he panted, because he couldn’t resist saying it, “that this is the ultimate fantasy for most teenage guys in the universe.”

Arden sat up and looked down at him. “What’s that?” Her hands didn’t stop their teasing.

He groaned. “Lying in your own bed in your own room, making love with a gorgeous, sexy, incredibly hot woman like you.”

“You used to think about it?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“And how did it end?”

“Messily.”

“We can do better than that.”

“Yeah?”

For an answer, she bent to kiss him again. There were no words then, because neither of them had the breath to speak. Clothes slid off, dropping to the carpet. Skin to skin, body to body, Griff investigated the beautiful shapes and textures, tastes and scents, sharing his own in return. Time and again they approached the summit, but backed away, slowed down, allowed trembling fingers to relax.

Until finally there was no backing down, no retreat, no stopping either of them. He fitted himself inside her and began to move, breathless with pleasure, until a rush of heat stunned him and a light erupted behind his closed eyelids, like fireworks and sunrise and starburst all at once, the most magnificent explosion he’d ever experienced.

And even though he didn’t deserve it, because he hadn’t been thinking about much of anything but how she made him feel, he heard Arden give her own strangled cry of pleasure. Her body stiffened beneath him, around him, and he knew she had reached the same glorious place.

Thankful for that gift, Griff rolled to his side, because he was bigger than she was, but kept her cradled against his body, her head pillowed on his arm.

“You’re fantastic,” he mumbled, smoothing hair back from her damp, flushed face. “I will never be the same.”

Her sleepy smile widened. “I was inspired by the company I’m keeping.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” He kissed her forehead.

“Mmm. You’re most welcome.”

The day had ended pretty well, he concluded, after the disaster of meeting up with what’s-her-name on the street. The stress of the surgery had added to his fatigue, though, and if he had his choice, he’d fall asleep right this minute. Maybe he should reach down to the bottom of the bed for a blanket first. Even with their shared warmth, Arden might get chilled—

“Griff?” His mother’s voice came from the foot of the staircase. “Griff, are you up there?”