They kissed for a long time, trading happy little intimate chuckles as they learned what sort of kisses were fun, and which were even funner.
She liked the way his hands smoothed over her shoulders and down her arms. It was much like when he bathed her. Only this time, there was heat in his palms and an urgency in the curl of his fingers. She practically purred when his hand moved to her waist and slid up under her tee. Her tummy quivered under the stroke of his fingers, and then he reached higher, tracing the curve of ribs in a lazy back-and-forth that rose higher and higher. Yet he was very careful not to press too firmly or move too roughly.
The shuddery sigh she let out broke their kisses but not their concentration.
His hand moved over her so carefully she finally grabbed his neck. “I won’t break.”
“Want to bet?”
She met his eyes, just inches away, and saw a smile of mischief.
She grinned back. “Do your damnedest.”
He palmed one breast, using his fingers to tease the nipple. And then he moved over her, his hand dragging the edge of her tee up to give him access. He tongued her nipples until they stood shiny wet and hard, and she squirmed against the sheets.
He shifted again, this time so his hand could slide down into the front of her pj bottoms.
She did not try to be coy, she opened her thighs in welcome.
“Oh!”
She felt his fingers move inside her, slow and easy, his thumb grazing the apex of her folds with each stroke.
Wanting to be as brave and bold, she reached down, pushing her hand into his jeans. He sucked in a breath and she went deeper and found his erection. For a while, each rode the pleasure of the other’s hand.
When she thought he must be a master at holding back, he whispered, “I think you’ve won, Shay. I need to … now.”
A little choke of laughter escaped when he pulled a condom from his pocket.
“What?” He looked at her in doubt.
“You were a Boy Scout, right?”
He grinned. “It’s more a case of hoping like hell.”
He slid into her like silk, if silk were long and thick and hard. Or maybe she was silk. All she knew was that he fit. And the throbbing inside her worked both ways, each stroke a gasp of pleasure and a promise of more.
Taking his weight on his elbows and knees, he rode her with long easy strokes, like swells on a lake, gliding in and up then down and out until his command slipped. Their climax was like dropping down a waterfall, a deep incredible drop where the rush and ripple overtook any hope of staying in control.
CHAPTER THIRTY
“You’re going to love my family.”
Shay dodged James’s smile.
They were sitting in a burger place, eating out for the first time since Shay had recovered enough to go out. James had driven in after work to meet her in Greensboro, where she had come for a job interview. Perry had set it up for her. He said he hated to lose a good employee but she deserved to have a regular paycheck, and the position with the tech company was a perfect fit for her. It was a bonus that it would be an hour closer to James.
“Mom’s already set a place for you at the Thanksgiving table.” He dangled a fry but when she opened her mouth he snatched it back. “And she doesn’t like to be disappointed.” He offered it again, and this time let her grab it in her teeth.
When she had swallowed the fry, Shay sent him a doubtful look. “I don’t know. This all seems kind of fast.”
“My mother has been known to invite complete strangers to Thanksgiving dinner that she met in the checkout line the day before.” He gave her a look that went all over her to pulse in several intimate spots. “You’re hardly a complete stranger.”
She shrugged. “You’ve got a lot of family, right?”
“Three sisters. All married. Nephews. Nieces. The family news is, there’s a new girl on the way.”
“I’m not accustomed to a lot of family.”
“The Cannons qualify more as a horde. There will be so many folks there, they won’t know you’re not related to us.”
Shay swallowed a lump. “It feels early.”
James knew better than to answer that one directly. “You are sort of required to be there because I told my sister Allyson that you make the best fried oysters ever.”
“What’s that got to do with Thanksgiving?”
James looked down and picked up an extra-long French fry, dangled it before her nose. “Nothing.”
*
It was possibly the best Thanksgiving meal ever made. Certainly the best Shay had eaten. James’s family seemed to accept her without asking a lot of questions about her past or her family, or anything else she didn’t want to talk about just yet. She suspected James was the reason for that. He told her he had already explained her ordeal, and the reason for the stitches and still smoldering black eye. Even so, she felt conspicuous and more than a little intimidated.