Father Of The Brat (11 page)

She told herself she was only allowing herself to succumb to Carver because she’d had a pretty miserable day herself. She wanted—needed—to escape from her life for a little while. She needed to forget about the ugly reality she encountered so often in her job. She needed to forget about a seven-year-old boy who had been a casualty of brutality. She needed to forget that she would probably just see more of the same tomorrow.

She needed to forget it all. And what Carver was offering was a perfect escape. He could provide her with a mindnumbing deliverance that would take her to places she’d
never visited, places where thinking and remembering weren’t necessary. All she’d have to do with him was feel things. Wonderful things. Things she’d never felt before and would never feel again. Maybe the journey would only be temporary, but at least it would feel good. And it had been so long since Maddy had felt good.

“Says who?” she echoed his question. “Says the voice of sanity, that’s who.”

Carver turned an ear to the silence in the room, then looked at Maddy again. He smiled as he said, “I don’t hear a voice of sanity. All I hear is your heart pounding as loudly as mine.”

“You know as well as I do that this is crazy,” she countered, a part of her still hoping one of them would come to their senses. “We’re both exhausted and worried about Rachel. I’m still reeling from what happened to me today. The only reason the two of us are turning to each other now is that-”

“This isn’t crazy, Maddy,” Carver interrupted her. “This is right. This is something that’s been coming for a long, long time, so don’t try to tear it down with some half-baked psychoanalysis. Back in high school, we had some vaguely defined feelings for each other that we didn’t know what to do with.” He bent and kissed her, long and hard and deep. “Now,” he added a little breathlessly afterward, “I think we have a couple of good ideas how to proceed.”

She swallowed hard. “Oh, I can think of more than a couple.”

His smile broadened. “That’s good. We should have more than enough to keep us occupied, then.”

Before she could comment further, he bent his head again and blazed a trail of damp, openmouthed kisses down her throat. When he encountered her shirt, he shoved it aside to taste her collarbone before dipping even lower. Maddy thought she heard the fabric tear, but before she had a chance to undo her buttons, Carver’s hands were there instead, slipping each one free until the well-worn flannel gaped open over her torso. Without pausing to remove her
brassiere, he dropped his head to her again, closing his mouth over her lace-covered breast.

For long moments, he suckled her through the gauzy fabric, tugging and laving the swollen peak. She felt his tongue dart out in maddening circles, savoring her as if she were the sweetest bit of confection he’d ever had the pleasure to consume. And just when Maddy thought she would explode with pleasure at his skillful maneuvers, he moved to her other breast to administer them even more masterfully.

Fearful that he would come to his senses and put an end to his sumptuous onslaught, Maddy knotted her fingers in his hair and pulled him closer to her still. When she arched her back, he hooked his fingers into the closure of her bra and unfastened it, shoving the wisp of lace aside.

Only then did either one of them seem to realize what was happening. Carver lifted his head to stare down at a halfnaked Maddy, who had curled her fingers possessively and shamelessly in the waistband of his jeans. Both of them were panting and flushed and confused. But instead of covering herself, as she knew she should, Maddy met his gaze levelly, silently daring him to finish what he had begun. Or perhaps it was something she had begun, she thought. At the moment, she couldn’t quite remember.

Evidently, Carver decided to let her silence be his guide, because he bent his head toward her again. The feel of his hot, rough jaw, rubbing so fiercely against her tender flesh as he nipped her breast lightly with his teeth, made her gasp out loud. The sound must have alarmed him, because he immediately laved the tender spot with his tongue and pressed a chaste kiss to it. Then he bunched her bare breast in his hand and opened his mouth over her again as if he had every intention of consuming her whole.

He was a leisurely lover, she thought vaguely as he lingered at his task. Evidently, Carver was the kind of man who took his time to make sure he got things right. Even as he continued to lovingly administer to her breasts, she felt his hand dip lower, felt his fingers slide easily beneath the
button of her jeans. Quickly, confidently, as if it were the kind of thing he did everyday, he shoved his hand between the heavy denim fabric and the satin of her panties, curving his palm over the agitated, heat-swollen heart of her. Then he proceeded to drive her to madness.

Maddy couldn’t remember ever quite feeling the way Carver made her feel. Had she known twenty years ago what such a simple gesture as his could wreak, she would never have tried to alienate him. Now, as his hand and fingers pressed more fully into her, she dropped her own hand over the denim that covered his and encouraged him to venture even lower. Carver followed her instructions to the letter, delving beneath her panties to explore her more completely. Lovingly, leisurely, he traced every one of her contours, then joined himself with her even more intimately.

Maddy gasped again when she felt him slip inside her. The fire that shot threw her was hot, exquisite and nearly unbearable. She flinched involuntarily, trying to jerk Carver’s hand away, thinking she must have been mad to ever coax him in the first place. But he only pushed himself in more deeply. And then Maddy couldn’t think at all. She roped her arms across his back and pulled him as close as she could. For a long time, she could only shudder against him and waver between hoping his assault on her senses would end and wishing it would go on forever. Then a surge of power coiled tight in her midsection exploded, sending shards of heat spinning throughout her body.

After that, all she could do was go limp beneath him, fearing she would never move again because she would never have the energy to do so. Then she felt her jeans and panties being skimmed down her legs as if borne on wings. Her shirt and bra, too, somehow mysteriously disappeared, and then the feel of the wool carpet abrading her bare back made her finally open her eyes.

What she saw was Carver stretched out beside her, one hand cradling his head, the other tracing idle circles on her
naked belly. He was calm but anxious-looking, and still fully dressed.

“I thought you were dead,” he said, not quite able to stifle a grin.

She managed to shake her head weakly. “I’ve never been more alive.” She cupped her hands behind his nape and pulled his head down to hers. “Not fair,” she whispered. “I’m all undressed, and you’ve still got clothes on.”

He quickly straightened and reached behind himself to bunch a fistful of his sweatshirt in his hand. “Not for long.”

“No,” she said, clenching fiercely at the hem to tug the garment back in place. “Let me.”

Immediately, he let go of his shirt and held his arms out to his sides in a gesture of utter surrender. This time Maddy was the one to smile as she proceeded. Her eyes never left his as she tucked her hands beneath his shirt and flattened her palms over the solid, heated flesh she encountered beneath. The last time she had been this close to Carver, he had been a boy of eighteen, a prancing, uncertain, not yet fully molded bundle of potential. She raked her bent hands up over the length of his torso, tangling her fingers in the springy mat of dark hair, marveling again at how much he had changed.

Carver had more than achieved his potential. He was truly a man fully grown. Maddy had been intimidated by him when he was a boy. She ought to be terrified of him now. But he had been tender and attentive and careful when he’d pleasured her moments ago. He had put her wants and desires before his own, had found gratification in making her feel the way she had. And now, all she wanted was to do for him exactly what he’d just done for her.

“Come down here where I can see you better,” she said quietly.

He immediately obeyed her, stretching out alongside her again. He shifted his position long enough for her to tug his shirt up and over his head, then he lay back down on his side. Maddy traced the poetic lines of muscle and sinew on his abdomen with much devotion, glorying in the way his
chest expanded and fell as his breathing grew more and more erratic. Finally, she cupped her hand over his shoulder and urged him down, until he was flat on his back on the floor.

Their positions switched, she entwined her legs with his, buried the fingers of one hand briefly in the coils of hair on his chest, then went to work on his blue jeans with the other. She fumbled a little over the buttons as she tried to unfasten them, but Carver only watched her intently and did nothing to come to her aid.

As she worked more furiously at her task, Maddy became aware of a solid ridge of him rising up below the fabric, a development that gave her pause. So instead of delving inside to investigate the promise of masculinity that was Carver Venner, she lingered over the heavy denim casing, cupping him in her hand as fully as she could. Carver groaned and closed his eyes, bending one leg to facilitate her explorations. Back and forth her fingers ventured over him, until he gasped out a plea for her to finish him off.

“Please, Maddy, I’m begging you. End this torture.”

She grinned as she unfastened the last of his buttons and pushed his fly open. “End it?” she whispered as she dipped her head low. “But I’m just getting started.”

And, as Carver had earlier, she took her time to finish. By the time she did, they were both writhing and impatient and anxious to get on with fully satisfying their desires.

Carver pulled Maddy atop him, her legs straddling his torso, his hands curved over her thighs. Without speaking, he urged his fingers upward, dipping his thumb into her navel as he passed it, strumming her rib cage, pausing to frame her breasts in the L-shaped arc of his thumb and forefinger. All the while, his gaze never left hers, and all the while Maddy’s breath quickened to sporadic gasps. Then Carver covered her breasts with his hands, measured them with a gentle squeeze, and raked his thumbs over the rigid tips.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Maddy covered his lips with her hand. “Shh,” she told him. “Don’t say anything more. Not until it’s over.”

“But—”

“Shh,” she repeated. “Not a word.”

“But what about…?”

“Carver…”

But he would not be put off. “Hey, the last time I did something this…this…” He smiled before concluding, “…this spontaneous, this incredibly erotic, I became a father.”

Maddy’s eyes widened at his reminder, and he hoped he hadn’t just blown their chance for a really nice ending to what was becoming the best night of his life.

Nevertheless, he continued, “No offense, Maddy, but I’d rather not have another social worker pounding on my door in twelve years telling me about another surprise like Rachel.”

She bent down and kissed him. “It’s not a problem.”

“But—”

She leaned down farther, until her mouth was right beside his ear. “Trust me,” she whispered. “I won’t get pregnant. I guarantee it.”

Then she scooted her body down the length of his until they were nearly joined together. She curled her fingers around him and guided him forward, slipping him inside her welcoming warmth before he could say another word. Carver groaned and cupped his hands over her fanny, pulling her down to push himself deeper still. After that, he couldn’t have asked her another question if he’d wanted to. Then, again, words weren’t exactly necessary. Because what Maddy made him feel was indescribable.

When he couldn’t quite reach the depths of her he wanted to plunder, Carver rolled their bodies until their positions were switched. She gasped at the change, then tangled her legs with his, cupping her hands over his buttocks to silently urge him closer still. He buried his face in her neck
and kissed her shoulder, then heaved himself forward to journey as far as he could.

And then something else—something he wasn’t quite able to identify—took over. Carver was rocked by emotions and sensations he’d never experienced before. Maddy made him feel such things…wild things, crazy things, wonderful things….

He paced himself along with the crescendo of new emotions, then cried out in ecstasy and anguish at their culmination. He rolled his body again, carrying Maddy with him, and for long moments could only lie beneath her, clutching her to himself, gasping for breath, and trying to make sense of what had just happened.

“Is it over?” he finally asked. “Can I talk now?”

Her voice came to him softly, somewhere around the vicinity of his neck and shoulder. “If you’re able.”

He smiled. “Barely.”

He thought he felt her nod against him. “Then it’s okay to talk now.”

“Maddy, I think…”

Too late, he realized he wasn’t yet certain what exactly he wanted to tell her. What he was feeling was too new, too strange, for him to try to fully comprehend it. And anything of substance he had to say right now would necessarily be a result of those feelings. So instead of telling Maddy something she might misunderstand, something he might regret later, he threaded his fingers through her hair and pulled her head up gently until he could look into her eyes.

“Maddy, I think for an encore, we should move into the bedroom.”

She smiled, looking relieved for some reason. Only then did he realize that she was as confused and unwilling to consider what was happening between them right now as he.

She shivered a little and pressed her body closer to his. “And I think we should turn on the heat, too. It’s freezing in here.”

Carver pushed himself up off the floor and bent to retrieve Maddy. As he carried her toward his bedroom, he
cupped his hand intimately over her fanny and gave her an affectionate squeeze.

“Oh, I’ll turn up the heat,” he promised as he passed through his bedroom door and kicked it shut behind them with his foot. “Brace yourself, sweetheart,” he added as he tossed her playfully to the middle of his bed. “‘Cause we’re heading for a tropical paradise.”