Cecelia had spent a lot of time staring at that photo, looking for the similarities between her and her mother. Looking for the differences that made her better. She’d always been mystified by her mother’s happy smile as she held her baby. How could she throw that all away? Every now and then she pulled the photo out to look at it when she was alone. Deacon hadn’t judged her. Deacon had accepted her for who she was—the rich, spoiled daughter of the Morgan family and the poor, adopted daughter taken away from her drug-addled mother. Deacon had loved her just the same.
In this moment, she wanted nothing more than to feel that acceptance again. Without thinking, she drove up to the front of the house and got out of her car. She flew up the steps and knocked on the front door, not knowing what his reaction would be when he saw her. Judging by their interaction earlier that day, she didn’t expect a warm welcome.
But she didn’t care.
A moment later, the large door opened wide, revealing Deacon standing there in nothing but a pair of worn blue jeans. She had admired his new build during her briefing that day, but she could only guess what he was hiding beneath his designer suit. Now his hard, chiseled physique was on display, from his firm pecs to his defined six-pack. His chest and stomach were sprinkled with golden-brown chest hair she didn’t remember from their times together in the past. Her palms itched to run her hands across him and see how different he felt.
Then her eyes met his, and the light of attraction and appreciation flickered there. Cecelia felt a surge of desire and bravery run through her, urging her on, so she didn’t hesitate.
Before Deacon could even say hello, Cecelia launched herself into his arms.
Four
The last thing Deacon expected when he opened his front door was to find Cecelia standing there. If he had suspected that, perhaps he would’ve put a shirt on. Or perhaps not.
Instead, he’d been standing there half-naked when he opened the door and looked into the seductive gray eyes of his past. She’d seemed broken somehow, not as confident as she’d been during her earlier presentation. She’d
appeared to almost tremble as her eyes glistened with unshed tears. Before he could ask what was wrong, or why she was here, she’d launched herself at him, and was kissing him.
At that point all Deacon could do was react. And in that moment, with the woman he had once loved in his arms again after all this time, he couldn’t push her away. Their encounter that afternoon had only lit the fires of his need for her once again. The years of anger and resentment took a back seat to desire, at least for the moment. He had no idea what had brought her to his doorstep tonight, but he was thankful for it.
Now her mouth was hot and demanding as she continued to kiss him. These were nothing like the sweet, hesitant kisses of their teenage years. Cecelia was a grown woman who knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it. And from the looks of it, she wanted Deacon.
She buried her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer as she pressed her body against his bare chest. He could feel the globes of her full breasts molding against the hard wall of his chest through the thin silk of the blouse he had admired earlier that day. As her tongue slipped into his mouth, he felt a growl form in the back of his throat. She certainly knew how to coax the beast out of him. He tried not to think about how Chip Ashford could’ve been the one to teach her these new tricks.
That was the thought that yanked Deacon away from Cecelia’s kiss. He took a step back, bracing her shoulders and holding her away from him. “What are you doing here, Cecelia?” he asked. “Shouldn’t you be making out with your rich fiancé right now, instead of me?”
Cecelia silently held up her hand, wiggling the bare finger that had previously held the gigantic diamond he’d noticed that afternoon at the presentation. So, that meant the engagement was off, and just since he’d seen her last. That was an interesting development, although one he was certain had little to do with his arrival in town. Only in his fantasies would Cecelia cast aside Chip for him.
“May I come in?” she asked, looking up at him through thick, golden lashes.
His tongue snaked out over his lips as he nodded. “Sure.” He took a step back, wondering what could’ve broken the engagement and driven Cecelia back into his arms, but before he could ask, she was on him again.
This time he had no reason to stop her. They stumbled back through the doorway, and he kicked it shut behind them. Without hesitation, he lifted Cecelia and started carrying her toward the bedroom. She clung to him, unwilling to separate her lips from his as he navigated through the house.
When they reached his bedroom, he sat her gently down at the edge of his king-size bed. Cecelia immediately started undoing his belt, sliding it from his jeans and tossing it to the floor. There was no question that this was what she wanted. And frankly, if he were being honest with himself, it was what he wanted, too.
He certainly didn’t expect it to be dropped into his lap like this, but only a fool would ask questions instead of accepting the gift he’d been given. As she started to unbutton his pants, he reached for her hand and pulled it away.
“I’ve got this,” he said.
Cecelia just smiled and began to undo her own blouse, button by button, exposing more of the creamy, porcelain skin he’d always admired. She was one of the few women he’d ever met who truly had a flawless complexion. There were no freckles, no moles—not even a scar. The Morgans would never allow their precious daughter to be injured. Her skin was like that of a china doll—smooth...even...perfect.
He remembered running his hands over it years ago and it feeling like silk against the rough, calloused palms he’d earned from working on cars. As she slipped her blouse off her shoulders and exposed the ivory satin of her bra, he ached to touch it and the flesh beneath it.
Her breasts nearly overflowed the cups as she breathed hard with wanting him. He took a step back as she stood to unzip her pencil skirt. The fabric slid over her ample hips and pooled at her feet. The sight of her nearly nude stole his breath away. She was just as beautiful and perfect as he remembered. Only now, she was a fully grown woman with all the curves that a man at his age could finally appreciate. As a teenager, Cecelia had been his first, and he’d hardly known what he was doing. He wouldn’t have been able to handle a woman like Cecelia back then.
Cecelia’s steely-gray eyes were fixed on him as she reached behind herself and unlatched her bra. Her breasts spilled free, revealing tight, strawberry-pink tips that were just as he remembered them. Thirteen years was too long to wait, and he couldn’t resist reaching out to cup them in his hands. The hard peaks of her nipples pressed into his palms as he squeezed and massaged her sensitive flesh.
Cecelia sighed with contentment, leaned into his touch, tipped her head back and shook her blond waves over her shoulders. “Yes,” she whispered. “I need your touch, Deacon. I need it now more than ever.”
Deacon didn’t respond. Instead, he dipped his head and took one of her tight buds into his mouth. He teased at it with his tongue until Cecelia was gasping and writhing against him. He wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her body tight against his, and then slipped one hand beneath her silky ivory panties.
He was surprised to find her skin completely bare and smooth there, providing no barrier for his fingers to slip between her sensitive folds and stroke her center. Cecelia gasped and her hips bucked against his hand, but he didn’t stop. Instead he drew harder on her nipple, stroking her again and again until she came apart in his arms.
Cecelia cried out and clawed at his shoulders, more wild and passionate beneath him than she’d ever let herself be. She had gotten in touch with her sexuality, and he was pleased to be benefiting from it.
When her body stilled and her cries subsided, he lowered her gently onto the bed, laying her back against the brocade comforter. She watched beneath hooded eyes as he unbuttoned his jeans and slipped them off, along with the rest of his clothing. She watched him with appreciation as he sought out a condom from the nightstand and returned to where her body was sprawled across his mattress. He set the condom beside her on the bed, using both hands to grasp her panties and slide the fabric over her hips and down her legs.