Second to None Read online

  When he returned, he gestured for her to shift forward on the cushions so he could spoon in behind her. He reached back to grab a soft wool throw blanket from the back of the couch, shaking it out to cover them. “I thought the decorator was just running up her bill when she insisted on this overpriced blanket, but I might have to send her a thank-you note,” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist and snugging her close into him.

  She reveled in the slight roughness of the hair on his thighs and calves when he interleaved his legs between hers. Max felt different from Jake. Their angles and textures weren’t the same. A pang of uneasiness hit her as Jake skittered across her mind. Funny, she hadn’t thought of him at all during sex, but this cozy afterglow made her feel guilty. As though she shouldn’t enjoy cuddling with another man so much. Or maybe that she shouldn’t enjoy cuddling with a man she’d known when she was married.

  Chapter 10

  Max settled Emily closer on the leather sofa cushions, loving the curve of her bottom fitting against his groin. He lowered his nose to her delightfully mussed hair and inhaled the scent of citrus and satisfied woman.

  She had gone so quiet and still that he whispered, “Are you asleep?”

  “No, just hypnotized by the flames. And feeling very good.”

  He dropped a kiss on the crown of her head. “May I return the compliment?” It was hard to believe that she was lying naked in his arms, something he’d fantasized about many nights at Camp Lejeune. The reality outstripped the dreams by miles, especially when he’d seen those outrageously sexy stockings. Those he hadn’t expected.

  She was right when she said they’d both changed since those days in North Carolina. But that made their coming together all the more intense, because now they had more to offer each other.

  He rubbed his cheek against her shoulder, enjoying the fact that he was permitted to touch her skin at last.

  “Mmm,” she said, her voice a purr of contentment. “Feel free to continue.”

  “I intend to.” Under the blanket, he ran his hand over the sinuous curve of her hip and thigh. “I’ve waited seven years to be able to do this.” He realized he’d spoken out loud and cursed his stupidity.

  He felt a tremor run through her. “That’s a long time. I . . . I didn’t know you felt that way back then.”

  Since he’d put his foot in it, he needed to see her face. Sliding the blanket off himself, he wrapped it around her and sat them both up on the sofa. He grabbed his trousers and pulled them on before he sat down again.

  Emily’s gaze was on the fire, so he took her chin to turn her face toward him. “I knew it was wrong to want the wife of a man whom I both liked and admired. I couldn’t control my feelings, but I could control my behavior.”

  “That’s why you avoided coming to dinner that last month,” she said, understanding in her eyes.

  “Saying no to your invitations required almost superhuman self-denial. I desperately wanted to be near you, but it was also torture.”

  “After you left, you never e-mailed or called Jake.” A look of horror crossed her face. “Did . . . did Jake find out? Is that why?”

  “Oh, God, no! I never gave him any indication.” Max stared into the red heart of the fire. “I didn’t e-mail because it reminded me of you. And when I thought of you in that way, it felt dishonorable.” And made him ache with impossible longing.

  “I’ve never considered myself that kind of woman.”

  He turned back to see her press her hand against her cheek. “What do you mean? What kind of woman?”

  She shook her head. “One that inspires those feelings in a man. Especially a man like you.” She let her hand drop and stared down at it resting on her lap. “You haven’t . . . waited for me, have you?”

  “I didn’t expect to ever see you again.”

  “I’m glad.” She threw him a quick glance. “I wouldn’t want you to be . . . alone.”

  “When you walked into my office, I hated myself all over again for how I reacted to you.” He took her hand, twining his fingers with hers. “When you told me Jake had been killed, I hated myself more for not staying in touch. I was a coward, while Jake had the courage of a lion. I mourn his loss.”

  “I know you do.” She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Because you’re a good man, just like he was. He wouldn’t begrudge us this. I’m sure of that.”

  Relief flooded him, making him feel almost giddy. “However, he would be upset with me for not giving you the dinner I promised.”

  “Oh, right. There was some mention of dinner.” Emily’s face lit with amused dismay. “I hope the butler hasn’t been hovering just outside the door, waiting to serve us.”

  He lifted their joined hands and kissed her fingers. “He’s envying me right now.”

  She flushed deep pink. “Seriously—”

  “Seriously, the food is in that warming cabinet in the corner.” He nodded toward the windows.

  She blew out a breath. “We still should put on some clothes.”

  “I’d much rather you sat across from me wearing only your stockings.” He heard the rasp in his voice but couldn’t stop it. “I want to see the candlelight tracing the curves of your breasts.”

  Her blush burned deeper. “Only if you take off your trousers.”

  “Done.” Arousal raced through him as he shucked off his pants.

  Her gaze dropped below his waist and then came back up again. She swallowed hard. “I’ve never done anything like this before. It seems kind of indecent.”

  “That’s the point.”

  *

  Emily tightened her fingers around the blanket that still covered her. Could she really sit across from Max wearing nothing more than stockings he wouldn’t even be able to see?

  She glanced at the table and realized it sat in front of a large expanse of glass. Even though they were at the top of a tall building, there were many other equally tall buildings nearby. “Aren’t you worried about blackmailers?” she asked.

  “What?” His black brows knit in a frown of incomprehension.

  “That window. Someone could see us, take photos.”

  He laughed. “Oh, no, not a problem. It’s opaque to outside observers. A reflective coating.”

  She considered the fact that she had remained in his mind for seven years. There must be something about her that he found pretty darned attractive. Gathering up her nerve, she stood and released her grip on the throw. The soft fabric drifted down her bare skin to settle in folds around her stocking feet.

  Max’s face went taut with desire, and he hissed in a breath. “Maybe I overestimated my self-control,” he said.

  A delicious sense of power surged through her. She turned and walked slowly toward the table, putting a deliberate sway in her hips. She knew he was aware of every movement she made, so she combed her fingers through her hair to fluff it over her shoulders.

  A low, rough groan resonated from just behind her, making her jump. She hadn’t heard him follow her.

  His arms came around her waist as he yanked her back against him, his hands drifting up to cup her breasts so he could run his thumbs over the nipples. Bolts of pure pleasure scorched through her, making her gasp and drop her head back against his shoulder. She could feel him harden against her bottom. His mouth was on her neck, nipping and sucking. Desire pooled at the juncture of her thighs.

  “Emily,” he breathed against her neck. “I played with fire, and now I’m burning.” He slid one palm down her torso and slipped a finger between her legs, testing inside her. Another growl vibrated from deep in his throat. “You’re wet.”

  She put her hand over his and pushed him farther into her, trying to fill the new ache he’d stirred to life. “Just what you need to put out the fire,” she said.

  He stroked in and out of her enough to make her squirm against him. Leading her to an oversize armchair, he seated himself before he tugged her toward him. “Kneel over me,” he said, releasing her hand to roll on a condom he’d
scooped off the floor by the sofa.

  She braced her hands on his bare shoulders, the muscle over bone giving her a strong foundation to balance on. Then she put one knee on the chair cushion and swung the other one over so she was poised just above his jutting cock.

  He took hold of her hips, saying, “I want this to be slow, because I want to watch you take me inside you.”

  She felt the tip of him brush against her. Her internal muscles rippled in anticipation. “Slow works for me.”

  He positioned himself and guided her down until he was just barely within her. Then he gripped her hips again. “Perfect. You’re perfect,” he said.

  Ever so gradually, he brought her lower, so that she could feel every centimeter of him glide into her, stretching, filling, tantalizing. His gaze was downward where they joined, but she watched him, the way arousal pulled the angles of his face taut. She felt the strength of his grip, his fingers flexing into her flesh.

  As her knees folded, he suddenly pulled her down and thrust upward at the same time, seating himself deep inside her. Their voices mingled in a wordless cry of satisfaction and excitement.

  “Now,” he said, lifting his hands to her breasts, “I’m going to make you come.” He leaned forward to take one nipple between his lips, drawing on it until she grabbed his head and pulled him away.

  “The other one,” she begged.

  “Of course.” He moved and teased her other breast until she was rocking on his lap, grinding against him and making his cock shift inside her.

  He wedged one finger against her clit and drove her higher by stroking exactly where she needed it. The tension in her belly wound tighter and tighter. His mouth on her breast grew more insistent, the edge of his teeth sending ribbons of delicious sensation down her body. Through it all his cock stayed hard and thick inside her, making her muscles work to wrap around it, to begin their clench of release.

  As it began she sat motionless, everything focused on the rainbow moment just before the explosion. And then she was arching back, screaming his name, squeezing him, releasing him, squeezing him, releasing him. It was too much, and she collapsed down over him, her head on his shoulder, her breasts compressed against his chest, the convulsion of her muscles growing weaker and weaker.

  She felt the flush of satisfaction on the surface of her skin as the heat danced over and through her like the northern lights.

  “I need to move,” Max said, his hips pulsing.

  She nodded against his shoulder, and he lifted her enough to allow him to withdraw partially before he drove into her again. She’d thought she was done, but the rhythm made her nerve endings waltz with him, starting little tremors that expanded and sent her tumbling into another orgasm. As he bowed up from the chair, she rode his hips while he shouted and pumped and dug his fingers into her waist.

  Afterward, they folded in on each other, shuddering and panting together. Emily felt his heart pounding as she curled against his chest. A secret little smile tilted the corners of her mouth. She had done that to him.

  “Let me catch my breath. After that, I promise I will let you eat,” Max huffed against her hair.

  “Maybe we should try putting some clothes on this time,” Emily suggested.

  “So much for my fantasy.”

  “Next time,” she said. His arms twitched and tightened around her. She tilted her head in an effort to see his face. “What is it?”

  He smiled down at her. “What is what?”

  She shrugged. It must have been her imagination or an orgasmic aftershock. She snuggled back into him.

  “All right, food,” he said after a few moments, patting her bottom.

  She was still drifting in a blissful haze of satiation. “Must we move?”

  “Unless you want a cold buffet instead of a hot dinner.”

  She disentangled herself from his arms and started toward their scattered clothing.

  “May I suggest a compromise for dinner attire?” he asked as he stripped off the condom. “You wear my shirt and I’ll wear my trousers.”

  “Deal.” She scooped up his shirt and slid her arms into the sleeves, the soft cotton caressing her sensitized skin. She left a nice stretch of cleavage exposed in the neckline and rolled back the cuffs.

  “I’ll never launder that shirt again,” he said, flicking open one more button so that most of her breasts were exposed. “That’s better.”

  “When you do that, I’m not sure this is much different from wearing nothing,” Emily teased.

  “Oh, believe me, it is.” He twined his fingers with hers and led her to the table, holding the chair for her.

  His shirttail was long, but her bare skin still brushed the satin of the chair seat. It sent a little tingle into her core.

  “What’s on the menu besides me?” Emily asked, giving him a wicked smile.

  He held up a hand. “Don’t, or you’ll find yourself stretched out over the tablecloth with me between your legs.”

  She laughed, reveling in her effect on him.

  He rolled the warming cabinet to the table and pulled two covered bowls from the top shelf. “Hot potato-leek soup. A favorite of mine for wintertime.”

  It was thick, creamy, and hearty. She gulped down the entire bowl.

  “Worked up an appetite, did you?” He smiled across the half-burned candles, his posture more relaxed than she’d ever seen him.

  “Didn’t you?”

  He chuckled and returned the empty bowls to their shelf before he set out plates, lifting the covers with a flourish. “Venison chops with dried cranberries, shallots, and a little side pot of polenta and cheese.”

  She inhaled, letting the warm scents rise and mingle in her nostrils. “Yum. So who made this?”

  “My chef. I prefer not to cook myself.”

  Because he’d had to do it too often as a kid, as she remembered. “I’d like to have a personal chef . . . and so would Izzy,” she said. “Do you tell him what to make, or does he just surprise you?”

  “She,” he corrected as he cut a piece of venison. “Both. I don’t eat here that often because of business commitments, so we don’t always have time to consult on menus. However, I chose this selection of food.” The intensity of his gaze let her know that he had considered this an important occasion, which added some extra sparks to her afterglow.

  “If I had a view like this, I’d eat at home every night,” she said. “You must love this place.”

  He shifted in his chair, bringing her attention to the sculpted planes of his bare shoulders and chest, his skin golden in the candlelight. Now that she knew how delicious he felt under her palms, she wanted to touch him even more.

  He picked up his fork and twirled it between his fingers. “I’ve sold it.”

  “Sold what?”

  He swept the fork around the room. “This place. I’m moving to Chicago at the beginning of January. But it won’t change anything between us. I have a private jet. I can fly here, or you and Izzy can fly there on weekends.” He gave her a smile that was meant to seduce. “I’ll bet Izzy would enjoy a private jet.”

  Emily was trying to absorb the sudden wallop to her chest. He was leaving? And he’d known it when he started this? She took a gulp of wine before she managed to force out, “Why Chicago?”

  “I sold V-Chem Industries to MatCorp. Part of the deal was that I would continue to do polymer research for them, and their lab is in Chicago.” He rolled his shoulders, making the muscles undulate. “I was planning to go out there for the holidays to get set up, but I’ve changed my mind.” Another persuasive smile.

  “I hear Chicago is a great city.” And about a thousand miles away from New York. Every organ in her body sank in dismay. She’d just found this man who made her feel in ways she’d forgotten she could . . . and now he was being taken away.

  He reached across the table to lay his hand on hers. “Don’t look at me like that.”

  “I don’t know how I’m looking right now.”

  “
Shocked and unhappy.”

  “Well, that describes my current feelings accurately,” she said, an edge of anger in her voice. Why hadn’t he told her?

  Because three dates did not constitute a relationship, despite their history together. She had no right to be angry with him. She shook her head and turned her hand up to squeeze his. “I’m sorry. It’s just that . . .” She turned her head toward the window as she blinked back tears. “It seems a shame to have just reconnected and then to have you vanish again.”

  “Did you hear what I said?” He leaned in, his voice low and urgent. “We’ll fly back and forth. With a private jet, it’s even less trouble than driving. You just walk on the plane and enjoy the ride. And it’s only a couple of hours in the air.”

  She knew he was trying to tempt her, but the private jet just accentuated the gulf that already existed between them.

  “That’s a nice thought,” she said. “But I’m not a believer in long-distance relationships.” She looked down at their hands with a sad smile. “I’ve been married to a Marine, so I know how difficult separation is. I’m not going to do that to myself or Izzy again.”

  “I’m not being deployed to a foreign country,” he said. “It’s completely different.”

  She looked up at him, his dark eyes laser focused, his hair rumpled from her fingers, his mouth tempting even as he frowned. The women in Chicago were not stupid or blind. They would hurl themselves at him, and eventually his trips to New York would become less and less frequent. There would be more business meetings in Chicago or some such excuse.

  Despite the time they’d known each other before, they didn’t have enough of a foundation to withstand such an immediate parting.

  But she wasn’t going to say all that. Instead, she tried to lighten the mood. “You might not get deployed, but after hearing your stories about lab disasters, I’m still worried for your safety.”

  His grip on her hand went tight. “Don’t,” he said. “You’ve just come into my life again. I don’t want to lose you.”

  She made a gesture of frustration with her free hand. “Be realistic. We lead such different lives. I have a child to worry about. I don’t want her to get attached and then have things not work out.”