minutes before he stepped back to admire his masterpiece. He yanked off his own shirt and hauled her against him for a deep kiss.
“You ruined all that hard work,” she whispered breathlessly as he released her, icing and cinnamon candies smeared all over his chest now, as well.
“Now we get to share,” he said with an evil wiggle of his eyebrows, making her laugh, then moan, as he began licking away the frosting with dedicated thoroughness, his tongue washing every inch of her clean, her body on fire and writhing as he did. She was short of begging him to take her by the time he finished, and she knew he could tell that when he looked at her.
“Do you want this, Joy? Do you want me?”
She’d never wanted anything more. He was like every dream she’d ever had—literally—coming true. But even her dreams, while hot, hadn’t been this fun, this real.
She held his gaze, nodded, and he smiled in heartfelt relief, as if he’d been poised on an edge, waiting. The fact that he seemed to have held his breath for her answer made her feel special. Within seconds he was naked and so was she. A tray of cookies slid noisily to the floor as he made room for her on the counter, his movements sure but urgent.
She couldn’t believe a man, let alone a man like Rafe, wanted her this badly. She could see in the way his eyes raked over her, in the hardness of his body and the tremble of his hand, how much he needed her.
“I’ve never done this before … on a kitchen counter, I mean,” she said hesitantly, watching him grab a condom from his wallet and slide it over his shaft. She was on the pill, but didn’t protest. The next thing she knew, he was flush up against her, that delicious part of him sliding against her heat, though he didn’t make his way inside.
“I hope you’ll find this worth sacrificing a few cookies for,” he teased, planting his palm on the crease of her hip and thigh, his thumb rubbing the hot slit of her flesh, making her gasp in delight. His hand was large and warm, his fingertips slightly rough, probably from the work he was doing on Warren’s house, and the sensations his touch brought forth were mind-blowing.
“What cookies?” she joked breathlessly, arching against him. She curled her fingers around the counter’s edge, positioning herself and opening for him as he eased inside of her, big and hot, filling her completely. She trembled with the completeness of it. Yes, this was better than her dreams—and her dreams had been pretty damned good.
“Definitely worth trashing the cookies,” she said, hearing him chuckle as he began to move, rocking his hips in a steady rhythm, finding her mouth with his and parrying his tongue with hers in the same way.
There was a delectable pressure building inside—something she couldn’t remember experiencing with another man, ever.
Rafe couldn’t seem to stop kissing her, her mouth, her face, her neck, murmuring hot words now and then, but mostly his lips were engaged in kissing every spot of her he could reach as he drove himself forward with increasing speed, touching her everywhere, urging her to come along with him.
She wanted to—she honestly did. Satisfaction hovered on the edge like a lightning bolt on the horizon, ready to strike, but the moment she became conscious of it, the brightness disappeared.
She groaned in frustration—why, why couldn’t she do this simple thing? Her body was obviously willing, though her mind wouldn’t let go. Sex was in the brain, so they said, and she seemed like living proof. Her brain was completely out of sync with her body.
Knowing it wasn’t going to happen, she didn’t intend to risk Rafe’s disappointment. They’d had a perfect day, and she wasn’t going to let on that she couldn’t live up to his expectations.
Turning her attention back to the moment, she relished the strong grip of his hands on her backside, how his fingers pressed in as he buried his face in her neck. Following his gentle cues, she lifted her legs up over his shoulders, increasing the intensity of the vocals she made, indicating she was reaching her climax, and loving how he responded by hammering even harder into her, throwing his head back. She watched him, not entirely minding that she wasn’t completely in the moment; it was worth it just to observe the wild intensity with which he made love to her.
She’d never seen a man so utterly open and uninhibited—and with her. The idea that he reacted to her this way touched a chord deep inside. She couldn’t stop watching him.
No sooner had she become aware of the glimmer of possibility than his jaw clenched tight until he let out a grown of release, fitting himself so tightly into her that she was sure even air couldn’t move between them as he finished. He pulled her against him, his chest heaving breaths of spent passion.
Her body slid against his, both of them sweaty and slick as he lifted her back down to the floor. She cuddled against him, enjoying the moment. He felt so good to her, there was no denying that.
As their breathing settled, he rubbed her back and stepped away a little, looking down into her face. He looked more relaxed, more handsome, if that was even possible.
“That was wonderful,” he said, and she nodded, not quite meeting his gaze, kissing his shoulder.
“Yes, it was.”
He backed up another step, framing her face in his palms and looking at her with a gaze so penetrating she nearly had to turn away. “Joy, I know a lot about the human body, and about women. What I don’t know is why you’d fake it with me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Joy,” he said in gentle admonition, and she moved away, bending to reach for her clothes.
“Fine, I faked. So what? It was nice anyway, I enjoyed it—I think I might have come close, but I typically don’t … I’ve rarely been able to, uh …”
“Orgasm,” he stated bluntly.
She looked away stubbornly, pulling on her underwear and her shirt. “Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me instead of pretending?”
“I didn’t want to make it bad for you—I didn’t want you to be disappointed.”
“Why would I be disappointed? How could it be bad? It was incredible. A lot of women have trouble in that department, and if you’d told me, I could have done something else.”
His voice lowered to a sexy pitch when he said the simple words something else, making her flutter all over in response, but she also didn’t know what to say. No man had ever talked to her this bluntly before—none had cared, happy to enjoy themselves and go on their way. She’d gotten used to it, and Rafe’s penetrating gaze and questions made her squirm, awkward and exposed.
He put his hands on her arms, making her face him.
“Listen, okay, fine,” she said blusteringly. “I know this is a guy thing, you like to know you can make us respond, and I did respond, Rafe, as best I could. I loved what you did, but I’m too uptight. I think too much, and I can’t turn it off. It’s not you, it’s me,” she joked lamely.
Joy felt on edge, probably because her body was still riled up. Rafe didn’t make it easy; he didn’t let her off the hook, and she didn’t know exactly how to deal with it. Rafe didn’t want spin, he only wanted the truth.
“Joy,
