Finding Perfect Page 11

  “Sure.”

  He glanced around, found the kitchen and made his way there. She followed, then fished the wine opener out of a drawer and handed it to him. She collected glasses and set them on the counter.

  “I saw my doctor today,” she said. “We talked about the next steps and I got my physical.”

  He turned to face her. “What did she say?”

  “That there’s no reason why I can’t deliver Crystal’s babies to term. Apparently getting them implanted isn’t too bad.”

  Saying the words made it all seem a little too real, she thought, feeling a bit light-headed. “Two weeks later, I take a pregnancy test.”

  His dark gaze never wavered. “You’d have all three done at the same time?”

  “She thinks that would be best. Apparently there’s a chance some of them might not survive the thawing process. But even if they all do, three is considered okay.”

  He handed her a glass of wine. “You ready for this?”

  “No, but it’s not like I’m suddenly going to get ready. I think plunging ahead is the best plan. I don’t want to talk myself out of this.”

  “You don’t have to do it. You don’t have to have Crystal’s babies.”

  She clutched her wine in both hands. “Yeah, I do. It’s what she wanted and she’s my friend. I would have done anything to save her. Bone marrow, a kidney, whatever. None of that would have helped, so I’m going to have her children and raise them as my own.”

  Emotions moved through his eyes, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “You’re a helluva woman, Pia O’Brian.”

  “Not really, but thanks for thinking I am.”

  She led the way into the living room. She curled up in one corner of the sofa, and Raoul sat at the opposite end. He faced her.

  “Nervous?” he asked.

  She was, but not for the reasons he thought. “Yes, but I’m dealing.”

  He looked around at her bright apartment. “How many bedrooms do you have here?”

  She blinked at him. “One.” Reality hit her. “I’m going to have to move, aren’t I? I’ll need more bedrooms.” She thought of the two flights of stairs she went up and down several times a day. There was no way she could deal with them and a stroller…or three.

  He reached his arm across the back of the red sofa and patted her shoulder, then left his fingers lightly resting against her. “You don’t have to move today. Don’t worry about it. When the time comes, I’ll help.”

  “I’ve lived here six years,” she murmured, aware of the heat of his touch. “I don’t want to move.”

  What other changes would there be? How many things hadn’t she thought of?

  “Can we please change the subject?” she asked. “I’m starting to freak.”

  “Don’t freak. You’re not even pregnant yet.”

  “Yet” being the key word.

  She forced herself to breathe slowly, then she took a sip of her wine. “I can do this,” she said, more to herself than him. “I’m strong. The town will help.”

  “Don’t forget me,” he added. “Your pregnancy buddy.”

  She still thought there was something odd about that, but why spoil his fun?

  “Have you been a pregnancy buddy before?”

  His expression tightened, then he relaxed. “No, but my girlfriend in high school thought she was pregnant.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Offered to marry her.”

  “Of course you did.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It’s the nice-guy thing.” She sighed. “I’m sure everyone adored you in high school.”

  “I wouldn’t say adored.”

  “Sure they did.” She sipped her wine. “I was a cheerleader.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Still have the uniform?”

  She laughed. “Yes, but that’s not the point. A lot of people don’t like cheerleaders. It’s the whole popular-girl thing.”

  “Were you popular?”

  “Sort of.” At least until her life had crashed in around her. “I wasn’t exactly humble and caring,” she admitted. “The phrase ‘mean girl’ has been tossed around.”

  “You’re not mean.”

  “I was. I made fun of people, flaunted what I had. I know now it was an uncomfortable combination of immaturity and insecurity, but it’s not as if that information will make any of my victims feel better.”

  “You had victims?”

  “I had people I picked on.” They were having the last laugh now, she thought sadly. Most of them had wonderful lives, while she lived in a one-bedroom apartment and couldn’t even get a cat to like her.

  “You’re pretty hard on yourself,” he said.

  “Maybe I deserve it.”

  “Maybe everyone gets to screw up every now and then.”

  “I’d like it to be that simple.”

  “Why does it have to be complicated?” he asked.

  An interesting question, she thought, allowing herself to get lost in his eyes.

  Raoul was one of the good guys. Around him a girl could let herself feel safe. Not to mention a lot of other things that were a lot more yummy than safe.

  A flash of courage swept through her. She set down her wine, braced herself for flat-out rejection and said, “Do you want to have sex?”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  RAOUL FELT LIKE A CARTOON character. He wanted to shake his head to make sure he was hearing right. Assuming he was, he was pretty sure his eyes were about to bug out.

  “Excuse me?” he asked, standing and staring down at her.

  Pia sighed. “Do you want to have sex? With me. The doctor mentioned it. Not that it was important for the implantation procedure, because it isn’t. Her point was I’m about to be pregnant and then I’ll have babies and little kids and it’s probably going to be a long time before a guy finds me the least bit desirable, assuming that even ever happens again. So having sex now, sort of a last fling, makes sense.”

  She’d said most of that without drawing in a breath. She did so now, then stared at him, her hazel eyes wide and wary. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I have no idea what you think of me. I’m not hideous or anything, but it’s not like I have a plaque proving I’m really great in bed. I thought maybe it would fall under the pregnancy-buddy umbrella, but maybe not.”

  She tilted her head. “Fall under the umbrella. Is that a mixed metaphor?”

  She was asking him if he wanted to have sex with her and then had switched the conversation to grammar?

  She stared at him with wide eyes. Hope fluttered there, along with a hint of apprehension. He would guess she was braced for rejection.

  Sex with Pia? He definitely found her sexy and attractive, but he’d never planned to go further than looking. There were plenty of reasons not to do this—the biggest of which was they would be living in a very small town together. There wasn’t much room for awkward.

  She bit her lower lip. The vulnerable movement hit him like a fist to the gut. Pia was pretty. The proud set of her shoulders, the faint glow on her cheeks. The way her brown curls tumbled to her shoulders.

  He’d always been the kind of guy who tried to look past external appeal to the person inside. The fact that Pia was going to have someone else’s children, simply because she’d been asked, made her one of the best people he’d ever known. And he’d really liked the kisses they’d shared.

  The idea of sex—no, making love—appealed more and more with every passing second. He knew this was a one-time deal. That after she had the babies, she would have other things on her mind. But something inside him told him a single night with Pia would be a night worth remembering.

  He took a step toward her. “I did offer to be your pregnancy buddy,” he said quietly. “To do anything you asked, to take care of all your needs.”

  “This isn’t exactly the same as running out for ice cream in the rain.”

  He pulled her to her feet, then put his hands on her
shoulders and stared into her eyes. “It’s a whole lot more fun than that.”

  She swallowed. “You really don’t have to do this. I shouldn’t have asked. I don’t want you to feel pressured or like it’s—”

  He leaned in and pressed his mouth against hers. The act cut off her words, which wasn’t a bad thing. Sometimes silence was better.

  Her lips were soft and yielding. Tempting. Her arms wrapped around him. She was warm and slight, but tall enough that he didn’t have to bend too far to kiss her again. A good thing, because he found he liked kissing her and wanted it to go on for a good long time.

  Pia had expected something of a discussion, or at the very least, ground rules on the whole pregnancy-buddy-sex thing.

  Apparently not, she thought as Raoul’s warm mouth claimed hers. The kiss was both hungry and tender, his lips making her want to melt into his tall, strong body.

  He held her against him, her body pressing against his. He was all broad shoulders and hard planes. He smelled as good as he looked—masculine, but clean. There was a slight rasp of stubble on his cheeks, but not so much that she minded.

  It had been a long time since a man had swept her away, she thought as she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself over to his kiss. She slid her fingers through his dark hair. The short, layered strands felt like cool silk. He moved his hands down her body to her hips. One had slipped to her rear.

  When he cupped the curve, squeezing gently, her stomach clenched. She surged closer, bringing her belly up against him. She was immediately aware of the hard thickness—proof that he wasn’t doing this out of pity. Thank God!

  He touched his tongue to her bottom lip. She parted for him, then rested her fingers on his broad shoulders. He slid into her mouth, moving with slow, languid strokes designed to make her beg for more.

  She held in the whimper and gave herself over to the kiss. Everything about this moment felt right. Hunger filled her, burning hard and hot, making her want to get closer, to touch him and be touched.

  She moved her tongue against his, going faster than he had, urging him on. The hands holding her hips tightened, then began the slow journey up her sides. She held her breath until he cupped her breasts in his hands, then she exhaled slowly. He moved from underneath, squeezing her breasts gently, then rubbed his thumbs against her already hard nipples.

  At the first brush, she felt a jolt all the way down to her toes. At the second, she had to hold back the need to cry out for more. She reminded herself not to beg—men found it very unattractive. But it was difficult to stay rational and focused when every whisper of contact against her sensitized breasts made her want to scream.

  He lowered his head to her jaw and kissed his way to her ear. Then he dipped lower, nibbling along her neck to her collarbone. He paused there to taste her skin, an openmouthed kiss that was surprisingly arousing. Or maybe it was the way he continued to tease her breasts, or the feel of his body so close to hers.

  Before she could decide, he’d cupped her face in his hands and was kissing her again. Deep, soul-stirring kisses that made her ache with longing and need. Without realizing what she was doing, she found herself unbuttoning the front of her dress. Suddenly the fabric gapped open to her waist.

  Before she could figure out how to stop or what to do next, he’d straightened and pulled her arms free, leaving the dress to pool at her hips. He ran his fingers from wrists to shoulders, then down over her breasts and behind her. With an expert flick of his fingers, her bra came undone and fell away.

  In less than a heartbeat, he’d replaced the silky lace with his bare hands. Skin on skin, she thought, her eyes sinking closed. He touched her gently, exploring her curves.

  She focused on every stroke, each brush of finger and palm. He moved closer and closer to her nipples but didn’t touch them. The contact heightened her arousal, making her knees weak and her body hungry. Then, when she was about to grab his hands in hers and place them where she wanted, he bent down and took her left nipple in his mouth.

  The hot, wet, openmouth kiss made her breath catch. He sucked deeply, making her arch against him. A ribbon of erotic connection tugged deep in her belly. Between her thighs she felt herself swelling, wanting.

  He shifted to the other breast. She touched his head, then his shoulders, feeling his strength. Wanting poured through her, making her feel delicious and alive.

  He straightened. “We should move the party,” he whispered, unbuttoning his shirt, then shrugging out of it.

  She nodded, even as her gaze was caught by the sight of his broad chest. She wanted to touch and taste, to explore, but he was already moving away. As she followed, she undid the rest of the buttons on her dress and stepped out of both it and her shoes as she walked.

  By the time they met up again in the bedroom, he was naked. She’d never gotten the concept of male beauty before seeing him, but she did now. His chest was a series of defined muscles, his waist narrow, his legs strong. He was hard and ready, his expression intense and focused. Just looking at him made her tremble. As she moved toward him, he grabbed her around the waist and they both tumbled onto the bed.

  “You have condoms, right?” he asked, right before he kissed her.

  She nodded.

  “Good. We don’t want my sperm swimming around with Crystal’s embryos. It would get crowded down there.”

  He grinned as he spoke, his eyes alive with humor and desire. It was an irresistible combination. Then he was kissing her again. She let herself get lost in the feel of his mouth on hers.

  Their tongues tangled in an erotic dance. Then he moved to her neck, as he had before. The man had skills, she thought dreamily, feeling every part of her heat and melt. When he took her earlobe into his mouth and sucked, she had to bite her lower lip to keep from crying out. When she felt the weight of him as he stretched out next to her, it was all she could do to keep her legs from falling open in a shameless invitation. She wanted him…all of him…on top, inside, pleasuring them both into madness.

  He moved to her breasts, and it was just as good as it had been before. With each tug of his mouth on her nipples, she felt an answering shiver between her legs. She could feel herself swelling for him.

  His mouth moved lower. He paused long enough to pull off her panties in one smooth, easy move. She waited for the feel of his kiss on her belly, but there was nothing. Her heart beat once, twice, a third time. Then she felt the warmth of his lips on the inside of her ankle.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  She felt as well as heard him chuckle. “And here I thought you were pretty and smart.”

  He kissed his way up to her knee, then moved between her legs and nibbled higher. Up and up until he pressed an openmouthed kiss on the very inside of her thigh.

  She opened her legs even wider, knowing it was either that or plead. Then his mouth was on the most sensitive part of her. She exhaled as warm, soul-stirring pleasure flooded her.

  He moved slowly, as if discovering all of her. The touch was perfect—quick enough to excite, gentle enough that everything he did was magic. He paused to tell her how good it felt to do this to her, which was nearly as arousing as the finger he slipped inside her.

  As he stroked her, he settled his mouth on that one tight and swollen spot. He brushed it with his tongue, which made her squirm. He moved in tandem, his tongue keeping time with his finger. Back and forth, in and out. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had done this to her. The last time she’d felt that liquid heat flowing through her body, the promise of release only seconds away.

  She tried to hold back, wanting to savor the moment for as long as possible. Although the end would be great, there was something to be said for anticipation. But it was like swimming upstream. Exhausting and ultimately impossible. Every flick of his tongue pushed her closer. When he closed his lips around her very center and sucked, she lost herself to the explosion.

  Muscles clenched and released. Every cell in her body qu
ivered as the pleasure crashed into her, through her. She surrendered to the sensations, arching back her head and gasping as she came again and again.

  When she could think again, she managed to open her eyes and saw Raoul smiling at her, his expression self-satisfied.

  “You’re not all that,” she told him breathlessly.

  “Sure I am.”

  He leaned in and licked her nipple. She shuddered and had to resist the need to draw him closer so they could do it all again. Instead she pulled open the nightstand drawer and removed the box of condoms.

  Raoul frowned. “Is this it?”

  “What do you mean? Are they the wrong kind?”

  One corner of his mouth turned up. “There are only three.”

  Her mind went blank. “Only?”

  “This is supposed to be your last fling. Shouldn’t it be memorable?”

  “I figured once was enough.”

  He pulled out a condom and tossed the package on the nightstand. “Then I’m going to have to show you otherwise.”

  PIA LAY ON THE BED, doing her best to catch her breath. Her mind was still fuzzy, her body unable to obey even the slightest command. Apparently the body had involuntary systems for a reason. Something had to keep her heart beating. Otherwise, a session with a guy like Raoul could be deadly.

  Had she been able, she would have turned her head to look at him. But that would have required more energy than she could muster. Blinking was about all she could manage. As he’d predicted, they’d used all three condoms. She’d come in ways she hadn’t known were possible, in positions that were at the very least questionable. In the last five hours, she’d had more orgasms than she’d probably had in her entire life. If doing him was wrong, she didn’t want to be right.

  He rolled toward her. His handsome face came into view, along with a bit of bare shoulder. His skin had a golden cast and looked as good as it tasted. Talk about temptation. She was exhausted and still shuddering through her recovery, but the thought of being with him again was enough to cause her nerve endings to cheer.

  “You okay?” he asked.