One Wild Wedding Night_ All the Way - Leslie Kelly [6]
Gloria sucked in a surprised breath, immediately clenching her left hand. It felt so bare, so empty without her wedding ring. And she almost instinctively reached for it, on her right hand, to put it back where it belonged. But the warmth in the stranger’s eyes kept her from doing it.
“Is it that obvious? That I’m married?”
“Only to someone with some experience.”
“You have a lot of experience with women?”
He smiled a little, his lips curling up only on one side, flashing the tiniest dimple in his cheek. It made him look more boyish, less tough, not a bit dangerous. “I know a few things.”
“Then you tell me why I’m sitting here in a hotel bar without my husband,” she challenged.
He leaned forward in his chair, dropping his arms onto the table between them. Gloria couldn’t help focusing on his hands, his big, strong hands. There was such power there and she shivered at the very thought of being stroked by him. Being touched, massaged, caressed.
It was wicked. It was also irresistible.
“You slipped out of your room, leaving him there, asleep and oblivious. Once again, he fell into bed, brushed a lazy kiss good-night on your forehead, then rolled over and went to sleep.”
She blinked, realizing he’d just described many of her recent nights.
“And you couldn’t stand yet another night of lying there, unfulfilled beside him, your body aching to be touched, needing wild passion, sweet caresses and decadent pleasures.”
“Oh, my God,” she whispered, fascinated, even if against her own will.
“You love him…but you miss the excitement, the thrill. Life has become too normal. And while it’s good, there are times when you long for something more.”
“How did you…”
He smiled gently. “It’s easy to see in your face. And it’s a damn tragedy. You are too beautiful to feel that way about your life.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“It’s not easy being misunderstood.”
She frowned. Her husband understood her, all right. He just didn’t do anything about it.
As if realizing he’d misstepped, he clarified. “I mean, being underappreciated.”
Her frown faded.
“You’re overworked and you have a lot of responsibilities.”
“That’s true,” she murmured, reaching for her glass.
“You don’t get enough help and you feel like you’re on autopilot all the time. Struggling to get everything done for everybody else, without ever having one minute to do anything for yourself.”
Gloria’s mouth opened in surprise. Because that had been one incredibly intuitive comment. One she wouldn’t have expected to come out of this man’s mouth.
“You don’t feel like a beautiful, desirable woman. You feel like a boring housewife.”
The open mouth now fell far enough that she could almost feel her chin on her chest. The handsome man—Tom—laughed softly, then reached across the table. Touching her face lightly, with just the tips of his fingers, he pushed her jaw closed. Her whole body tingled at the contact, as if he’d done something much more intimate than that quick brush of skin on skin.
“When was the last time your husband came up behind you, kissed the nape of your neck and whispered that you were the sexiest, most beautiful woman he’d ever seen?”
She shook her head slowly, swallowing at the very thought of something like that. If Tony did such a thing, one of the boys would invariably stick his little head between them, demanding a hug from Daddy, too.
“When did you last spend an entire day in bed, being worshipped and adored?”
“He works so hard,” she whispered.
Tsking, he shook his head. “No man should ever work so hard that he can’t take some time to show his wife how much he wants her.” His hand slid across the table, until the tips of his fingers touched her bare forearm. Just that, yet she trembled at the contact. “Having an incredible woman in your life comes with a lot of responsibility and some men just aren’t up to the task.”
Swallowing hard, she asked, “Responsibility?”
He nodded. Those fingers moved, sliding up her arm, leaving sizzling heat and tension along the way. “Every woman needs to be touched.