Blue Velvet (11 page)

“Who says?” she asked breathlessly, not really caring. The nail of his thumb was toying playfully with the swollen tip of her breast.

“I forget,” Beau said absently, moving closer, “but I’m anxious to test the theory. Part your legs, love.”

She obeyed without thinking. “Why do—” She broke off as his knee suddenly was inserted between her thighs and he was lifting her, one hand moving from her breast to the curve of her buttocks to pull her forward so she was straddling his strong muscular thigh with shocking intimacy. He pressed her back against the bank, resting his other knee against it for support.

“There, that’s better.” Beau’s voice held the same breathlessness she was feeling. “Almost comfortable.” His hand at her bottom was moving her back and forth on his leg. “A very comfortable ride, eh, sugar?”

Comfortable? There was a distinctly mischievous note in that Southern drawl that made her aware he knew just how ridiculous that adjective was. That friction he’d mentioned was burning
her with every motion and she felt she was learning by Braille the physical substance and textures of him. The hard bone beneath the resilient muscles, the slightly rough film of hair that was prickling against that most sensitive part of her. Her swollen breasts swung heavy and ripe against the sleek smoothness of his chest with every other movement and she could hear his breathing become harsher and more labored with every touch.

His hand still cupping her breast was squeezing and relaxing in rhythm with the molten friction he was stirring in her lower body. His index finger encircling the budding tip was both inquisitive and arousing. “You have lovely little puckers all around this pretty thing,” he said raggedly. “Is that because of the cold or what I’m doing to you?”

“I don’t know,” she gasped. She didn’t know anything that wasn’t connected with the liquid aching need that was racking her entire body.

“Then perhaps we’d better find out.” The hand that was on her buttocks suddenly moved around and slid swiftly between her and his thigh. “I want you to be sure. It’s a matter of
personal pride.” His fingers started moving, caressing, delving, teasing with a devilish skill.

“Beau!” She arched forward against him, her hands clutching desperately at his shoulders. She uttered a low sound that was half guttural groan and half whimper as she felt two of those diabolically knowledgeable fingers enter, stroke, burn, rotate.

She was so close she could feel the thunder of his heart against her ear and his voice was shaking a little. “It’s me, isn’t it, Kate? Say it!”

“It’s you,” she said, hardly knowing what she was saying. She would have said anything he wanted her to at that moment.

“So tight,” he muttered. “Oh, God, Kate, I can’t wait. I want to be
there
.”

“What?” He’d added another finger with some difficulty and she was only conscious of the sensation of fullness that pervaded her.

“I want to ride, too, Kate.” He laughed a little shakily. “With your permission, milady.”

She found herself trying to push down harder. “Yes, oh yes.” She closed her eyes. “Whatever you like.”

“What a fantastically generous invitation. I
just may take you up on it. It’s going to be a long night.” He pinched her nipple gently with his thumb and forefinger, sending a jolt of electricity shooting through her. “But unfortunately I don’t want to start here. Maybe tomorrow I’ll be ready for aquatics but tonight I want to feel all your silk and heat against me.” His hand left her breast and wandered down to her waist. Then his fingers plunged forcefully upward and she gave a low gasp of pleasure. “Remember that,” he said hoarsely. “Remember the feel of me. You’re mine there now and I’ll be back.” His hand reluctantly left her and also moved to her waist. He lifted her off his thigh and up onto the bank with easy strength.

She sat there dazed and bewildered. The warm humid air felt almost chilly on her wet nude body, but it wasn’t the astringent shock it should have been. For Beau was suddenly beside her on the bank picking up a towel and drying her with careful thoroughness, his hands caressing and squeezing her occasionally through the soft material.

“Bend over. I want to do your hair.”

He was thorough with that also and when he
was done he combed his fingers through the damp curls before fluffing them lightly. “It’s almost dry already,” he commented.

“It’s so short it dries very fast,” she said mundanely. However, there was nothing mundane about the way she was feeling only inches away from him. She could smell the scent of soap and musk and feel the heat of his body reaching out to her.

He handed her the simple white cotton caftan. “You’d better put this on.” He picked up another towel and started to dry himself.

She slipped the caftan over her head and pulled it down over her body. Even the loose folds of material were a teasing provocation against her flesh that Beau had sensitized so expertly. She could barely stand the touch of it against the swelling fullness of her breasts. “You haven’t anything to put on.”

“The only thing I want against me tonight is you,” he said as he gathered the towels, shampoo, and soap. “Grab our clothes, will you? I want to get back to your place with the speed of light.”

So did she and her movements were just as
swift as his. It was only a matter of moments before they were climbing the ladder to the tree house. Beau dropped the bundle he was carrying on the wooden platform but stopped her as she would have opened the door. “Wait,” he said, drawing a deep shaky breath, “I want to hold you a moment before we go inside.” He took the clothes out of her arms and dropped them carelessly on top of the pile of towels. “Just hold you. I don’t think I’m going to be able to do that once we get inside. I’m hurting too much.”

He took her into his arms and held her with loving gentleness. She could feel the hard urgency of his need against her, but there was only affection and tenderness in the strong clasp of his arms and the brush of his lips at her temple. He rocked her and for a moment she forgot about desire as she was drowned in that warm glowing gentleness. Beau. Oh, dear, sweet, wild Beau. She felt her heart swell with emotion as her arms went around him to hug him fiercely to her.

“Hey!” he chuckled. “Take it easy. Your enthusiasm is much appreciated but very arousing.” He reached behind her to swing open the
door. “We’ll continue this later.” He pushed her gently into the room. “Much later.”

“All right.” She watched him dreamily as he followed her into the room. In the glow of the oil lamp he was all sleek muscular power and dominant aroused male. Very aroused.

“Take off the gown, Kate.” His eyes were dark and smoky but the golden glints were leaping.

She pulled the caftan slowly over her head but when she dropped it to the floor she realized he was no longer looking at her but across the room. There was a frown on his face and she watched him with puzzled eyes as he crossed the room to the chest against the wall.

He picked up the carousel music box she’d set on the floor when she was riffling through the rattan chest for towels and placed it with great care on the exact center of the chest. “You should be more careful,” he said gruffly. “One of us might have kicked it or knocked it over. Treasures have to be taken care of.”

She felt a warm glow start somewhere near her heart. “Do they?”

He nodded, his eyes grave. “Yes.”

“I suppose you should know.” She laughed
shakily. “A rich man like you must have quite a few of them.”

“Not really. I guess you could say I have a good many valuables but that’s something else again. You’ve got to care for something to make it a treasure.” He was coming toward her with that smooth, lithe coordination. “Perhaps I didn’t deserve to have a treasure before. Maybe I would have been too careless and irresponsible to care for it properly.” He stopped before her and his lopsided smile was boyishly endearing. “I wouldn’t be that careless now, Kate. Will you be my treasure if I promise to guard and cherish you very carefully?”

The words were so simply eloquent, his expression so beautiful that she couldn’t speak for an instant because of the lump in her throat. His treasure for an eternity or merely for tonight? Somehow at this moment it didn’t make any difference. One night with Beau would be worth any pain she would have to suffer later.

“If that’s what you want me to be,” she said breathlessly.

“That’s what I want.” His hand reached up to cup the curve of her cheek with infinite gentleness.
“You won’t regret it, Kate.” A dark frown suddenly clouded his face. “This doesn’t have anything to do with that blasted bargain we made, does it? You know that’s down the drain. You really want me, right?”

“I really want you,” she said, a tender smile tugging at her lips. How could he doubt it when he could see the response he’d so easily ignited in her? He seemed to ignite all kinds of responses with no effort at all—and not only the physical. Tenderness, laughter, respect, admiration, love. Love? The word had come so easily to mind that it frightened her a little. She must be very careful not to think of that. It was far too dangerous in a relationship that might prove as ephemeral as theirs.

“Then that’s what you’re going to get,” he drawled, the lightness back in his expression. “Every bit of me that you can take.” He reached out and lightly cupped her breast in his palm. “Now.”

Then his arm was about her waist and he was leading her to the denim-covered mattress across the room. His fingers splayed out and rubbed her hip in a caress that was more affectionate
than sensual. “I can’t get enough of touching you. That incredibly silky skin with all that warm aliveness beneath it. I’m constantly wanting to reach out to play or rub against you like a cat with a satin pillow.” His hands on her shoulders were pushing her to her knees on the mattress before kneeling to face her. His eyes were glazed as he stared down at her naked breasts with an intentness that caused a shiver of anticipation. “I want to do that now but I’m afraid the time for play is over.”

“The light?” she asked. Perhaps she wouldn’t feel so shy if she couldn’t see the smoldering sensuality on his face.

He shook his head. “I like you bathed in lamplight. It gleams and shimmers on you like liquid gold.” He slowly bent his head until his lips were only a breath away from one taut eager nipple. That warm breath kissed her even before his lips touched her. “Now let’s see if I can make that pretty breast pucker again for me.”

She inhaled sharply as his mouth closed around her as he began to alternately nibble and suckle at the nipple that had been waiting eagerly for his attention. He was very gentle at first but she
could feel the change in him as the moments passed. There was a tension and restrained savagery in the way he pushed her on her back on the mattress. Both hands were encircling her breast, now causing it to swell into prominence. His mouth seemed to be trying to envelop the entire mound at times while his tongue flicked wildly over every portion of it. His nips became sharper and his face was flushed and heavy above her. “I can’t get enough of you. I want to eat you alive.” He suckled strongly and she arched up to him with a little cry. He was over her now, his lips still working frantically at her breast. He began rubbing against her like the cat he’d compared himself to and it was as erotic as his lips at her breast. Yet there was nothing of the sleek feline about Beau in that moment. He was all hard bone and supple muscles and aroused male.

She could feel that arousal brush against her as he moved and she unconsciously opened her thighs to welcome him. She wanted to welcome all of him, touch, smell, sight. She wanted him to surround her in every way possible.

“You want me?” he asked, his eyes blazing
almost pure gold. His hand traveled down to rest possessively between her thighs, not moving or caressing. However, just the warm heaviness of it against that most private part of her so vulnerably open to him filled her with unbearable excitement. His voice was harsh with restraint. “Here? Now? You’re ready for me?”

“I want you.” It was a gasp.
“Now!”

He closed his eyes and breathed a shuddering sigh of relief. “Thank heaven, I didn’t know how long I could keep up this foreplay. I’m nearly wild.” He was parting her thighs with frantic eagerness, his fingers now moving, caressing, exploring. “You’re so pretty here.” He lowered his head to her belly, gently nipping the soft rounded flesh. “And you
are
ready for me.” He laughed huskily. “I wanted to make sure. You’re so beautifully tight I was afraid I’d hurt you if you weren’t as wild for me as I am for you.”

He didn’t have to worry about that, she thought hazily. She was aching frantically with a feverish desire for completion.

He was between her thighs, his hard warmth nudging against her and he suddenly smiled down at her with loving sweetness. “I’ll be careful,” he
whispered. “There’s no way I’d ever want to hurt you. I told you I know how to care for treasures now.”

Poignant tenderness and passion were in his voice and his eyes.… They were so beautiful she felt tears rise in her own. Everything was beautiful, his golden eyes, the sensual curve of his lips, the brilliant coral orchids on the wall beyond his shoulder, but most of all the feel of him as he became part of her.

“Relax.” There was a touch of impatience in his voice. “I told you I wouldn’t hurt you. Don’t you trust me?”

Of course she trusted him, but there was something the matter. There was a hint of troubled hurt in his face and she couldn’t bear it. Nothing must spoil the beauty of what was happening to both of them, she thought dreamily. Not when she could take care of the problem so easily.

She surged upward with determined forcefulness and there was a sharp piercing pain that was immediately drowned in the equally sharp delight of being full of him. She smiled happily up at him. “Better?”

“Better,” he echoed blankly, his face stunned.
He flexed spasmodically and a great shudder racked him. He closed his eyes. “Oh, Lord, yes, that’s better.”

“Good.” Her hands caressed his hips lovingly. “I want you to be happy, Beau.”

His lids lifted and he looked down at her with a curious expression of torment. “I know you do,” he said hoarsely. “Everyone has to be happy even if it means the giving has to go on forever. Because we all keep taking, don’t we?” His lips twisted bitterly. “Even me. For once in my life I wanted to give, but I’m taking too.” One hand reached up to gently stroke her cheek. “And the damnable part of it is that I can’t stop now.”