Breeze off the Ocean (7 page)

His mouth touched hers gently, experimentally. When she didn’t flinch away, the pressure increased and his hands grasped her upper arms. Her heart beating wildly, Micki returned the kiss. She gasped against his mouth when the hard tip of his tongue moved slowly across her lips, but she obeyed the silent command to part them. His mouth still gentle, exploring, he straightened, drawing her to her feet in front of him.

Micki didn’t know what was happening to her. She had been kissed before, many times, but never had she felt this sweet joy zinging through her veins, this lightheaded, intoxicating sensation. When she swayed toward him, touched his body with her own, he lifted his head, held her away from him. “I’ve got to take you home,” he rasped unevenly.

“Why?” Micki asked huskily.

“Don’t you know?” Wolf groaned. “Have you really no idea of the effect you’re having on me?”

Elation shot through her, gave her the courage to lean toward him, slide the tip of her tongue across his mouth. He went stone still, then gritted. “Where the hell did you learn that trick?”

Micki’s eyes went wide at his rough tone. “From you, just now. I’ve never—never—”

“Why did you do it?” His growl had lost its bite.

“Because”—Micki wet her lips, felt a curl of excitement when his eyes dropped to her mouth—”because I was afraid you weren’t going to kiss me again—and I wanted you to.”

“You’re too young to know what you want.” Micki’s head was shaking a denial before he’d finished speaking, but he didn’t give her time to voice it. “If I kissed you, I mean really kissed you, you’d be fighting me in a cold panic within seconds, exactly like you were fighting that teenage Don Juan back at the beach.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Micki denied softly. “I didn’t want him to kiss me. I do want you to.”

His silvery eyes stared hard into hers, then dropped to her mouth, then lifted to her eyes again. “I must be out of my mind,” he muttered. “I never should have brought you here after the jealousy I felt of that punk.”

“You felt jealous of David!” Micki exclaimed. “But why?”

“Because”—Wolfs voice was very low as he drew her slowly against his long frame—”I wanted to be in exactly the same position he was in, you beautiful fool.”

This time there was very little gentleness. His lips crushed hers, forcing them apart roughly. His tongue probed hungrily. Flaring lights actually seemed to explode behind her eyes. Raising her arms, she curled them around his neck, needing suddenly to be closer to him. He half groaned, half growled into her mouth then his hands moved across her shoulders, down her back, molding her to his hard body. Responding to the demands of her body, Micki arched her hips against him. At once lips pulled away from hers, moved in a fiery path over her cheek to her ear.

“Micki, stop me while you still can.” His voice held half plea, half command.

“I don’t want you to stop.” The moment the words were out she knew she spoke the truth. She had never behaved like this before in her life, yet she knew she wanted to, had to, belong to this man.

Although his hands still held her tightly to him, he lifted his head, gave her another of those hard stares. ‘You’ve been with a man before?”

Micki hesitated, knowing somehow that if she told him the truth he’d put her from him, take her home. Praying that in the dim light her flush would look like guilt, she lowered her lashes, whispered, “Yes.”

A flash of something—pain, disgust—twisted his face. He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head then lowered his mouth to within a whisper of hers. Again she heard that half groan, half growl.

“I don’t care.” His hands spread over her hips, pulling her tightly against him. “Oh, God, baby, I want you.”

Her wrap and her bikini were removed gently but swiftly. For the first time in her life Micki stood naked before a man, amazed that she felt no shame or fear. As he undressed, his eyes, gleaming like liquid silver, moved slowly over her body, the burning, naked hunger in them igniting an eagerness in her to be in his arms, be part of him.

Slowly, expertly, his mouth and hands an exquisite torture, he fanned the flame inside her to a roaring blaze. Gasping, moaning softly deep in her throat, her lips leaving tiny, urgent kisses on his neck, his shoulders, she welcomed him when, finally, his body covered hers. Moments later he cursed her.

“Damn you!” Wolf s tone held anger, but an odd note of satisfaction as well. “You lied to me.”

“Yes,” she admitted into the curve of his shoulder, her arms tightening around his waist, refusing to let go.

“Oh, baby, baby.” He kissed her mouth tenderly. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” Micki replied honestly. “I wanted this as badly as you did, Wolf.”

“Sweet Lord, I’ve found myself a sexy teenage vixen,” Wolf muttered huskily, his body moving excitingly.

“You’d better enjoy it while you can,” Micki laughed teasingly. “I’ll only be a teenager two more months.”

“A vixen and a tease,” Wolf moaned between short, quick breaths, then, “Oh, God, Micki, kiss me.”

Micki’s initiation into the world of serious lovemaking lasted until three o’clock the following morning. Wolf was a master tutor, and under his ardent guidance she caught a glimpse of the wondrous things his eyes had seemed to speak of that time on the boardwalk. Exhausted, she curled still closer to him, heard him laugh softly as his arms tightened around her.

“That was just the first chapter of the text,” he teased. “Do you think you’ll graduate?”

“Cum laude,” she murmured sleepily and was rewarded by a light kiss on the corner of her mouth.

“Go to sleep, sweetheart,” Wolf whispered into her ear.

“Wake up, sweetheart.”

Micki jumped at the sound of her father’s quiet voice, the gentle touch of his hand on her arm.

“Is it over?”

Sitting up straight, she winced at the twinge of pain at the base of her spine and brought her hand up to massage the stiffness in her neck caused by the hard rim of the aluminum chair. Glancing around, she saw the deck was empty of all the other people. What time was it?

“Over an hour ago.” Bruce laughed softly. ‘The party’s breaking up. It’s time to go home.”

“I’m ready.”

Moving carefully, Micki lifted her cramped body out of the chair, one hand going to her mouth to cover a wide yawn. In a young-girl, sleepy voice, she apologized, thanked, and said good night to her indulgently smiling host and hostess, then followed her father and Regina out to the hushed sidewalk.

Trailing a few steps behind the couple, she watched as her father’s arm slid around his wife’s waist, heard his low voice murmur something close to her ear. Regina apparently disagreed with what her father had said, for her head moved slowly in a negative shake. The argument, if that’s what it was, was obviously not over anything very serious. With a sigh of relief, Micki heard Regina laugh softly.

Dropping a few steps farther behind in order to give them complete privacy, Micki’s fingers curled tightly into the palm of her hand. Well, she’d missed it again. It had been six years since she’d gone to watch the Night in Venice and she’d seen practically none of it. And for exactly the same reason—thoughts of Wolf had absorbed her attention, her senses.

Angrily rejecting the image of him that rose in her mind, Micki centered her thoughts on the couple a few feet ahead of her, wondering if she could be the bone of contention between them. She hoped not, but had the sinking sensation that she was. For all Regina’s declared wish that they be friends, Micki was still very unsure of her. Their past relationship had been fraught with so much jealousy, so much resentment, that Micki was unconvinced of the permanency of their truce.

The minute Micki entered the house, Bruce ended her conjecturing.

“There is only one way to find out,” he stated in a tone of amused exasperation. “And that’s ask her.”

“Bruce, please,” Regina pleaded softly. “Not tonight, she’s tired and—”

“She’s wide awake now,” Bruce insisted, studying his daughter closely. “Princess, I’m going to ask you something and I want you to answer honestly. Will you?”

“Yes, of course.” Micki’s gaze flew from her father’s laughing eyes to Regina’s worried ones. What was this all about? Her father answered her silent question.

“I want to take Regina on a second honeymoon,” he said quietly, his suddenly serious, love-filled eyes resting on his wife’s face.

“And?” Micki prompted, confused as to what a proposed second honeymoon had to do with her.

“Regina insists that it would be selfish of us to go away at this time.”

“Selfish?” Micki repeated blankly. “I don’t understand. In what way would it be selfish?”

A satisfied grin spread over her father’s face. “You see?” he asked Regina before turning back to Micki. “Regina is afraid you’ll feel, well, deserted, if we went away so soon after your return home.”

“But that’s ridiculous!” Micki cried. “When were you thinking of going?”

“Not till the end of the month.” Bruce’s eyes filled with pride and tenderness as he studied Micki’s face. “It will take me until then to tie up some loose ends at the office.”

Micki looked directly at Regina. “By the end of the month I expect the majority of my time will be spent in learning my new job.” Her eyes swung back to her father. “I think a second honeymoon is a lovely idea, especially as I don’t remember you ever having a first.”

“It was impossible for me to leave the office at that time,” Bruce defended himself. “And since then the time just didn’t seem right.” Bruce paused before going on softly, “With one thing and another.”

“Well, then,” Micki spoke quickly, knowing too well that she was the one thing and Regina’s behavior the other. “If you feel the time is now right, then go, and don’t worry about me. I’m quite used to taking care of myself.” At the contrite expression that crossed her father’s face at her last words, Micki willed a sparkle into her eyes and shaded her voice with teasing excitement. “Where were you thinking of going, or is that a secret?”

“No secret.” Micki felt relief rush through her at the way her father’s face lit up. “I had thought San Francisco, I’ve always wanted to see it.” His voice grew eager. “We could rent a car, drive through the Redwoods, along the coast, Carmel, Big Sur.”

Watching Regina’s face, Micki could see her father’s eagerness reflected there. Although she had been arguing against the trip, it was obvious Regina wanted to go.

“Sounds super.” Micki spoke directly to Regina. “So do it. Make your arrangements and take off. I promise you I will be fine.”

Grabbing Regina up in a bear hug, Bruce spun her around, laughing. “What did I tell you, darling? Is my girl something special or not?”

“Very special.” Regina spoke for the first time. When he turned back to Micki, Regina mouthed a silent thank you at her.

Wide awake now, Micki murmured, “I think I’ll sit on the porch a few minutes,” when her father and Regina moved toward the stairs. ‘You two go on up, I’ll lock up.” Micki stepped out onto the porch, then turned back to get a sweater from the hall closet. A mist rolling in off the ocean had turned the air cool and clammy. Settling back on the porch lounger, she watched the mist swirl and thicken, turn the light from the street lamp into an eerie orangish glow.

The mist had been like this that morning.

Shifting irritably on the thickly padded cushion, Micki tried to push the thought away. She didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to remember. Her shifting, her silent protests, were in vain. The floodgate of memory, which had sprung a leak earlier, now burst completely, swamping her, carrying her helplessly back through time.

* * * *

Micki stirred when the warmth of Wolf’s body was removed from hers. Through eyelids heavy with sleep, she watched him, his form barely discernible in the gray, predawn half light. Moving noiselessly, he stepped into his jeans, fastened them and pulled a battered sweat shirt over his head. Fear shot through her as he moved across the floor to the door.

“Wolf?” Micki’s voice betrayed her fear. “Where are you going?”

At the sound of his name Wolf turned, the fear in her tone brought him back to the bed in a few long strides. Bending, he dropped a soft kiss on her lips.

“I have to move the boat,” he explained quietly, one long finger outlining her mouth. “Go back to sleep. As soon as I have her docked at the marina I’ll come back to bed.” His lips touched hers again, lingered, then he was moving across the cabin, out the door.

Micki closed her eyes tightly, but it was no good; she couldn’t sleep with him gone. Slipping out of the bed, and a moment later out of the cabin, she hurried into the tiny bathroom. She was stepping under the shower spray when she heard the boat’s engine flare into life. Bracing herself with one hand, she washed her body with the other while Wolf backed the boat away from the pier and swung it around. When the craft was relatively steady, she stepped out of the shower stall, grabbed for the towel, probably Wolfs, that hung on a small fitted bar, and rubbed herself down briskly.

Back in the cabin, she stretched languorously. The tautening of her breasts brought the remembered feel of Wolf’s hands, and her nipples set into diamond-hard points.
Oh, Wolf.
Just to think his name sent her blood racing through her veins, set her pulses hammering out of control. She couldn’t wait until he’d docked the boat.  She had to see him now.

Glancing around, she grimaced as her eyes settled on her bikini and beach wrap, lying in an untidy heap where Wolf had tossed them. Shaking her head in rejection of the beachwear, she went to the cabin’s one small closet and rummaged through shirts and jackets— obviously too short to cover the bare necessities—until her hand clutched and withdrew a bright yellow rain slicker. Pulling it on hastily, uncaring how incongruous she looked, she left the cabin, fastening the buckle closings as she went.

Not once did she pause to ask herself why she was where she was, with a man she knew practically nothing about. Not once did she wonder about how suddenly it had happened. She was there. It had happened. Never before had she felt so tinglingly alive, so totally happy. But she didn’t even pause to think of that. The only thought that filled her mind was that she had to be near him, see him. The whys and how of it would torment her later.