Honeysuckle Summer (The Sweet Magnolias #7)(93)

She regarded him warily, but she did cross the room and sit gingerly on her side of the bed.

“You won’t get much sleep sitting up,” he murmured, amusement threading through his voice. “Settle down here next to me. I promise I won’t touch you unless you want me to.”

She hesitated. Her gaze sought his. “I might want you to,” she admitted. “But it might not go very well.”

“Only one way to find out,” he said. “The first second I do something that scares you, all you have to do is push me away or say no. I promise, you’re in charge here.”

Reassured, she stretched out next to him, keeping several inches between them. Even so, she could feel his heat radiating toward her. All that solid strength beckoned to her. She rolled onto her side and dared to rest her hand on his rock-solid abs. She could feel them tighten under her touch.

“What kind of workouts do you do?” she asked, a little awed and a lot intrigued.

“Weights, resistance machines, that kind of thing,” he said, sounding slightly breathless.

She hesitated, then asked, “Would you mind taking off your shirt?”

He grinned at the request. “My pleasure. You want to do it for me?”

Raylene gave it a moment’s thought, then reached for the hem of his shirt and tugged it over his head. She knew what he’d done. He’d left the act to her so she had total control over whether that shirt stayed or went. Even as her knuckles skimmed over bare flesh, she felt the kind of yearning she hadn’t felt in years. She could feel her body coming alive, tightening and moistening in all the right places.

“What would you think about taking off your top?” Carter asked solemnly. “Seems to me you shouldn’t be the only one with a view.”

She froze, then reminded herself this was Carter, not Paul. There would be no cruel comments about the inadequacy of her chest, no rough handling that caused more pain than pleasure. She told herself she could do this.

Slowly she reached for the buttons. Once she’d undone the first one, she hurried with fumbling fingers to finish the rest. Carter’s avid gaze never left her.

“May I?” he whispered, gently pushing the flannel top aside to reveal her breasts.

To her amazement, he didn’t grab as if there was some race to be won. He just looked, his eyes filled with wonder.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, a hitch in his voice. He stroked a finger down one breast, then gently rubbed the nipple.

Raylene almost cried as desire shot straight through her. It had been so long since she’d felt that kind of tenderness, so long since she’d allowed herself to want a man’s touch. Yet Carter’s caresses felt right.

She’d never known a man to take such care, to risk a touch, then wait to assure that it was wanted before risking more. She felt her skin heat, felt the return of moistness between her legs, the stirring of her blood. It was such sweet wonder to experience it all again without fear.

Carter met her gaze. “Do you want to stop now?” he asked.

She looked at him as if he was crazy. “Now?” she asked incredulously.

A smile played over his lips. “Just checking.”

“No, I want more, Carter. I want it all.”

Because for the first time in years, she needed to know what it was truly like to make love. Maybe if she experienced that at long last, it would finally push the bad memories from her head once and for all, replacing them with memories she could cherish.





21




Carter woke and rolled over in bed to discover he was alone. He wondered if he’d dreamed that he and Raylene had made love the night before. If so, it had been one helluva dream. She’d surprised him with passion and fire, then fallen asleep in his arms as if she’d finally found shelter from a storm. He knew what an amazing gift she’d given him by placing her trust in him.

Discovering that she’d abandoned him, though, made him wonder if she’d awakened with second thoughts. He knew she still worried that she was too much trouble, especially when he had a kid sister with an eating disorder. He had no idea how to make her see that it was easier for him to face that with her at his side. Words weren’t going to be enough. Neither, he knew down deep, was sex.

Feeling refreshed for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, he showered, pulled on the clothes he’d worn over here the night before and went in search of Raylene.

He found her in the kitchen humming to herself and cooking enough food to feed an army.

He glanced at the mound of bacon, the pile of toast and the pan of scrambled eggs she was stirring. There was a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice already on the table, along with pots of jam that looked homemade. The table had been set for five.

“Expecting company?” he inquired, stealing a piece of crisp bacon before stealing a kiss. Much as he loved bacon, the kiss—brief though it was—was better.

“Walter and Rory Sue should be in here any minute now, and I called Ronnie on his cell and told him to come in.”

Carter stiffened. He opened his mouth to protest, but she waved him off.

“Oh, don’t look like that,” she scolded. “Erik’s taking his place until all those workmen who are filling potholes and checking the power lines show up.” She gave him a pointed look. “Who knew this street was in such a sad state of disrepair?”