to arch up, to move, but his arm kept her still. His tongue continued as he slipped a finger deep inside her. Hand and mouth, he fought his own desire until her hands fisted in his hair, her body bowed off the bed and a raw moan tore from her throat. It took everything he had not to bury himself inside her then, but he wasn’t done yet.
He kissed his way up her body, lingering over the ridge of her hip and the underside of her breast. He tugged the lacy cups down so his tongue could explore the tight peaks of her breasts, sucking first one nipple, then the other.
He settled between her thighs, so hard it hurt. “I don’t have any protection—”
“I’m protected.” She paused and took a deep, shaky breath. “I’m clean. Are you?”
He nodded, holding her gaze. She reached for him, gripping his upper arms and hooking one leg around his hips. His breath hitched as he pressed into her slowly. She was so hot, so tight. He closed his eyes briefly, reining in the need to move. But he wanted to see her, to watch her. Her lips parted, her eyes closed. Her hands gripped his forearms tightly, and her head lifted off the bed.
Her hands moved, clasping his hips. “Please.” Her nails dug in.
He eased into her, letting her adjust to him. But when she started to move, he decided to let her take charge—he wanted to watch her. He rolled them, pulling her on top.
She smiled down at him, running her hands across his face and along his shoulders. She braced herself on his chest and began to move. Her back arched, her breasts swaying in time. His hands slid up her sides, cupping her breasts, teasing the nipples that peaked over the lacy cups of her bra. He loved the way she felt, the sounds she made. He pressed kisses to her side and nuzzled the place between her breasts, drawing her scent in.
Her movements grew frenzied, out of control. Her hands moved over his chest, her nails raking across his skin. Each touch, every thrust, pushed him closer. But he held on until her body clenched around him. She cried out, her climax forcing his release. He gripped her hips, holding her tightly against him as his orgasm ripped through him. He couldn’t stop his groan, or ease his hold on her.
She collapsed on his chest, gasping for breath. He stroked the length of her back, his fingers tracing each notch of her spine. She was soft and warm, so he wrapped his arms around her and lay there. He didn’t know what the hell he was doing, but it felt good. It was the first time—in a long time—that the ache in his heart and the scars on his chest didn’t keep him from falling into a deep, restful sleep.
“THE GOOD CHINA?” Patton eyed his mother’s carefully set table.
“Zach said he had big news.” His mother sounded far too excited.
Patton knew his mother. He also knew his brother Zach. The two of them had a bond he and his other brother Spence didn’t understand. “You have any idea what his big news is?”
His mother glanced at him, her light blue eyes bright. “No.”
He arched an eyebrow.
“I don’t,” she argued. “Don’t you use that look on your mother.”
He smiled. “It normally gets me results.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Only if someone has something to hide. I don’t.”
He held up his hands. “Okay, fine.”
“She tell you what’s going on?” Spence arrived, carrying a bag of ice. “Whoa, the good china?”
Patton nodded. “Exactly.”
“You two knock it off.” Imogene Ryan shooed her sons out of the way and headed to the kitchen, still talking. “A woman has a right to make things pretty every once in a while—for no apparent reason. I’m not getting any younger, you know. I don’t see the harm in setting a nice table once a month instead of three times a year.”
“Who got her all worked up?” Spence asked softly.
Patton shrugged. “I just asked her if she knew what the news was—”
“And I don’t,” their mother called from the kitchen.
Spence laughed and Patton shook his head. She’d always had ridiculously good hearing. It had made sneaking out of the house almost impossible as teenagers. Almost.
“We’re here,” Zach’s voice came from the front door.
“We?” Spence asked.
Patton shrugged, following Spence into the front sitting room. Their mother brushed past them both, making Patton the last one into the room. His younger brother Zach was holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand and the hand of a very pretty young woman with the other.
“Mom, this is Bianca.” Zach was smiling. But it was the way he was smiling that drew Patton up short. His little brother was smiling like a kid in a candy shop with an unlimited budget. “Bianca, this is my mother, Imogene Ryan.”
Patton glanced at the young woman on his arm. His brother was clearly smitten, not that this was necessarily new. Zach was always getting a new girlfriend—his problem seemed to be keeping them. Then again, Zach had never brought one home before, so this would be interesting.
“Mrs. Ryan, it’s so lovely to meet you.” Bianca’s voice wavered—she was nervous.
“Oh, Bianca, please, call me Imogene.” His mother pulled Bianca into a hug. “Zach’s told me so much about you.”
Patton shot Spence a look. Spence shook his head, shrugging in answer. Apparently their mother was the only one who had heard about Bianca. Not that he and his brothers talked daily, but the family still had dinner together once a week. It seemed a little odd that Bianca had never come up in conversation.
“I figured it’s time for her to meet the family now that she’s agreed to marry me.” Zach’s voice was unsteady, his eyes bouncing between the three waiting members of his family.
Patton blew out a deep breath, stunned by the announcement.
Their mother was clapping her hands, hugging Bianca again then Zach. She chattered away, her excitement covering for his complete shock. Spence seemed to snap out of it, too. He exchanged an awkward handshake then a one-armed hug with Bianca before tackling Zach.
When both his mother and Bianca were staring at him, he pulled it together and stepped forward. “Nice to meet you,” he murmured, shaking her hand. “I’m Patton. And...welcome to the family.”
Bianca smiled, her tawny eyes wide. “You, too. I mean, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Let’s celebrate!” His mother was still on a visible high. “I made some fresh-squeezed lemonade and cookies—”
“I’ll get it,” Patton volunteered, heading into the kitchen.
A tray with the “fancy” crystal goblets and a plate of homemade wedding cookies waited. He eyed the cookies. His mother might not have known Zach had proposed, but she knew something was going on. Not that
