Authors: Cris Anson
AddingHeat (11 page)
“I— Why don’t you go. I think better when I’m alone, and
I’ll need to make a list of what needs to be done.” She gave him a watery
smile. “Maybe you can call me late this afternoon and see how I’m holding up.”
He gathered her in his arms again. “I’ll do better than
that. I’ll come by around six, when the crews are closing up shop for the day,
and I’ll bring dinner. Would you like Chinese? Pizza? Deli?”
“No. I’m not sure I’ll be able to eat much. Just—just call
me around dusk. I’ll have told the guys by then and will probably need a little
cheering up.”
Con kissed her then, gently, as if she were fragile and
valuable. “Whatever you say, hon. Just know that I’m here for you.”
Chapter Seven
The workweek passed without mishap. Giselle found herself
enjoying the daily visits to the jobs as de facto foreman—forelady?—and found
two of her workers had the potential to become foreman before season’s end. All
her guys had expressed surprise at Larry’s “defection”, as one of them put it,
but she’d gathered from casual remarks that they’d known of Larry’s feelings
for her and thought his departure was in her best interests. Especially since
several of them had met Con and encouraged her to “hook up” with him.
She didn’t tell them she already had.
But she’d declared a work-free Saturday, to which they
reacted as expected. Some relished a longer weekend, a couple grumbled about
missing overtime pay. But she was the boss and, as she’d told them, she needed
time to decompress from her new work situation.
And she needed the day to prepare for Con. Because she’d
invited him to spend the night. Premeditated, not because he was too exhausted
to leave by midnight as with their prior trysts. They’d talked on the phone
every evening, but she hadn’t been inclined to see him. She had to put her
life, her future, into perspective first.
She was stroking blusher on her cheeks when the phone rang.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Con.
He was probably calling to say he’d be
there in a few minutes.
“Hi,” she said, somewhat breathlessly.
“Mom? Are you okay? You sound like you’ve been running.”
“Oh. Andrew. I’m fine. I just—dashed to answer the phone,
that’s all.”
“I mean, are you really okay? I heard about Larry. You know
I got to be friends with Darren when I worked on his crew last summer and he
called me and told me what happened. What a bummer. How are you handling it?”
“It was somewhat of a learning experience, going out to all
the jobs every day, but I’m getting a handle on it. I really love to see the
progress the crews make from one day to the next. I have my eye on two of the
guys I think could step into the job. Another week or two and I should have my
decision.”
“Good. Now what you need is a boyfriend.”
Giselle was stunned into silence.
“It’s been almost four years, Mom, and you’ve been a nun all
that time. You need to go out and have some fun. Get laid.”
“Andrew!”
“Hey, Dad and I talked about sex all the time. Ever since—”
“TMI, Andrew,” she cut him off primly.
Way
too much
information from her older son.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Mom. All my friends think so.
I’ve even gotten into a couple of fights because they say things I think are
disrespectful.”
She let that comment pass. Andrew was twenty-one and a
junior at college. Old enough to pick and fight his own battles.
“So, Mom, go out into the dating world. But be cautious,
okay? There’s lots of STDs and stuff. You know, be prepared.”
A deep belly laugh exploded out of Giselle. “Wow! Talk about
a turnaround!”
“It sounds good to hear you laugh, Mom. You deserve someone
who fusses over you, who makes you happy. Get out there and start looking.”
Giselle cleared her throat. “I’m happy to have your
blessing, Andrew. It so happens that I’m getting ready for a date with your
Great-Aunt Esme’s accountant. In fact, he should be ringing the doorbell any
minute now.”
Andrew groaned. “Oh Mom, he’s not old like her, is he?”
“As a matter of fact, he’s younger than me. You may just be
calling your mother a cougar one of these days.”
“Awesome! Way to go!”
She wasn’t sure she wanted him to know just how much
younger. At least not yet. But she was encouraged by Andrew’s blessing.
“Gotta go,” she said. “I hear someone coming down the
driveway. Thanks for calling, and thanks for encouraging me to go out and kick
up my heels. Love you.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
After she hung up, Giselle looked at herself in the mirror.
For someone who rarely cared how she looked, she thought she did well—mascara
to her lashes, gloss to her lips, perfume to her pulse points. Brand-new
see-through bra and matching thong, thigh-high stockings under strappy high
heels she’d found at the back of her closet.
She slipped into a two-piece silk dress in a cream shade to
highlight her dark hair and eyes, with a flared skirt—for easy access, she’d
thought when she bought it this past week—and sleeveless top with a deep vee,
buttoned in the front.
She opened the door to his knock and simply stared. Con
stood before her in a well-cut suit in a deep brown pinstripe, emphasizing the
chestnut and mahogany shades in his slicked-back hair. He held one hand behind
his back and his blue eyes looked at her as if she were Venus come to life.
Bringing his hand forward, he offered her a single white
calla lily. “I asked the florist for the most beautiful flower in his store,
but you put it to shame.”
It had been a long time since she’d felt so feminine, so
beautiful. So wanted. Fighting the prickle of tears in the backs of her eyes,
she smiled and invited him in. “And you. If I picked up the latest copy of
GQ
in the bookstore, you could be on page three.”
He followed her all the way into the kitchen, where she
retrieved a tall, etched-glass vase, filled it with water and ensconced the
lily within.
Then she turned to him. “Thank you for making me feel so
special.”
“You are special. And you look good enough to eat.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “So…”
“Giselle, I know we have reservations for that fancy
restaurant down in Newtown, but what I really want to do is keep you right here
where I can look my fill without a waiter intruding every half hour to ask if
we’re ready to order yet.”
“I don’t know if I should believe you. You haven’t even
kissed me hello.”
The explosive sparks in his eyes warmed her. “Once I start
kissing you, lady, it may be tomorrow before we place our dinner order.”
“I’ll say it again. So?”
He needed no further encouragement. In seconds he was all
over her, his hands sliding around her back, her waist, down to her ass cheeks.
Slanting his head just so, he captured her mouth with his, licking, sucking,
thrusting his tongue into her hot cavern. She delighted to feel his growing
arousal and rubbed against him, her arms tight around his waist for leverage.
“I had my hand on my cock every night thinking of you,” he said
when at last he gasped a breath. “But it just didn’t seem right to polish my
wood without you. I’m so horny now I’m surprised I haven’t turned into a toad.”
She would have laughed at the image, but his mouth captured
her breath and his hunger sparked hers. She welcomed the thickness of his
tongue, the heat of it, as a precursor to what she knew would come later. “That
makes two of us,” she murmured. “Except I’m as horny as a rhinoceros.”
Around a snicker he said, “Okay, you win that metaphor.”
Sweeping her up with one arm around her shoulders, the other under her bent
knees, he strode to the front hall and up the stairs. “We don’t need a waiter.
We can feed each other for a few hours. Or a few months. Or for however long
you can stand me.”
In the tiny corner of her mind that wasn’t saturated with
thoughts of wild monkey sex, Giselle realized there was some import to his
words, but she was so eager to get him naked and inside her, she could think of
nothing else. As soon as they entered her bedroom, they divested themselves of
their carefully selected clothing and threw it in haphazard heaps on the floor.
Con backed Giselle to the bed, his cock hard against her
belly, and followed her down to bounce on the coverlet. She reveled in the feel
of his weight, his heat, on her, around her. Instinctively she lifted her legs
to hug his hips with all her strength. He slid home in one long, hard thrust
then stilled, looking deeply into her eyes.
“I’m not wearing a condom, Giselle. I want to feel all of
you. If that bothers you, tell me now and I’ll fix it.”
“No!” She tightened her leg muscles to bind him more closely
to her. “It’s okay, it’s the wrong time of the month. And I want all of you
too.”
As the impact of those words hit her, she repeated, “All of
you. As long as you want me.”
“Oh God, Giselle, you are my dream come true. I’ll want you
forever.”
And she realized she wanted the same. This younger man had
burrowed into her heart and soul and she couldn’t imagine life without him.
“That sounds good to me, Con.”
Those were the last coherent words they uttered for a long
time.
From Giselle: I don’t know how I can thank you all
enough. Having Con at my side (and in my bed *grin*) has given a new joy to my
life, and I’d have never had that gleam in my eye on meeting him, if you hadn’t
invited me to join your Tempt the Cougar Blog. Cougars rule!
About the Author
Cris Anson firmly believes that love is the greatest gift…to
give or to receive. In her writing, she lives for the moment when her
characters realize they love each other, usually after much antagonism and
conflict. And when they express that love physically, Cris keeps a fire
extinguisher near the keyboard in case of spontaneous combustion.
Multi-published and twice EPPIE-nominated in romantic suspense under another
name, she was usually asked to tone down her love scenes. For Ellora’s Cave,
she’s happy to turn the flame as high as it will go—and then some.
After suffering the loss of her real-life hero/husband of
twenty-two years, Cris has picked up the pieces of her life and tries to
remember only the good times…slow-dancing with him to the Big Band sounds of
Glenn Miller’s music; vacations to scenic national parks in a snug recreational
vehicle; his tender and fierce love; his unflagging belief in her ability to
write stories that touch the heart as well as the libido. Bits and pieces of
his tenacity, optimism, code of honor and lust for life will live on in her
imaginary heroes.
Cris welcomes comments from readers. You can find her
website and email address on her
author bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.
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Also by
Cris Anson
Dance
1: Dance of the Seven Veils
Dance
2: Dance of the Butterfly
To enjoy Cris’ other titles, visit Cerridwen Press (
www.cerridwenpress.com
):
Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the
multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or
paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic
reading experience that will leave you breathless.