Girl Gear 4: Striptease (16 page)

“Oh, I don’t know.” She ran fingertips along the curved back of the very expensive sofa. “You just don’t look like the eggshell type.”

“Eggshell?”

“The color of your sofa.”

“Hmm.” He frowned. “I thought it was cremello.”

“Cremello?”

“A double-diluted palomino.” He shrugged, his mouth crooked into a self-effacing smile. “Horse stuff.”

He was so easy to look at, standing there with his shoulders slightly hunched and his fingers now tucked
into the pockets of his jeans. And then there was his bare chest, which she was dying to get her hands on.

Oh, but this was not going well. She squeezed the sofa’s padded back. “In the city, you’d call this eggshell. Though cremello does paint a nice…creamy picture.”

“But a paint is a horse of another color.”

“Very funny,” she said, enjoying him way too much for her own good. She turned away, headed for the dining area and the kitchen set off from the main room by an island stove and floor tiles the color of old schoolhouse brick. “Do you cook?”

“Are you hungry?”

She glanced back to see him still standing where she’d left him. “It’s getting close to dinnertime, isn’t it?”

“If I fix something, you’ll stay?”

He sounded so hopeful, timid almost, when nothing she’d learned about him was timid at all. He’d kissed her in the middle of Barnes & Noble, and that was about as bold as anything she’d known a man to publicly do. But he was uncertain about her, and that made her smile. “Sure. As long as you let me help.”

“I’ll cook. You’re the guest.”

“No.” She turned and faced him fully. “I don’t want to be treated as a guest. That’s not why I’m here.” She paused for a moment, realizing whatever she said next would determine the rest of the evening. But she had to be sure.

She had to be sure. “I didn’t think that was the reason you sent me the key. I didn’t think you wanted to spend time with me as your guest.”

“What did you think?”

“That you went to a lot of trouble with no guaranteed return.”

“You’re here. That’s all I wanted.”

“Is it?”

“You know, Renata, you shouldn’t bait me if you’re not ready to have me bite.”

When he put it like that, well, it sounded like exactly what she wanted. “This is tough for me, Aiden. I’ve enjoyed seeing you these last few weeks. I can’t remember when I’ve ever been in a situation where things have been so perfect.”

“But they’re not.”

She shook her head. “No. They’re not.”

“And that’s the difference between you and me. Because I think they’re about as perfect as they can get.”

“How can you say that?” She crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “We live three hours apart. What’s so perfect about being unable to see the one person you’re most desperate to be with but can’t?”

Aiden’s expression grew dark, his eyes flat. “I’m not willing to never see you at all just because I can’t see you every day.” He paused. “Renata?”

“Yes?”

“Are you desperate to be with me?” he asked in a smoky velvet tone that had her crumbling inside.

She looked at him standing there, patiently waiting for her to make this call. He’d gone to such extreme lengths to be here, to give them this chance. A chance she was terrified to take.

A chance she wanted more than anything.

“
Desperate
is such a strong word. Implying there’s no other choice, no other option.” She hugged herself even tighter, wishing his arms were the ones twined
around her. “I know it was my word, but I hate feeling that I’ve gone back on every promise I made myself about having a long-distance relationship.”

He held his arms out to the side, a gesture that offered her all that he could. “I’m as close as I can get, Renata. I’ll always be who I am, and there’s not a lot of room in town to raise horses.”

She couldn’t help her sad grin. “I know.”

“But I’m here now, baby. And there’s nothing but a sofa between us.”

If only that’s all there was,
she thought miserably, watching him as he watched her and as his decision was made. His hesitation was brief and seemed to be more a case of uncertainty about her reaction than anything. Because when he finally came around the end of the sofa, she saw nothing in his gait or expression but a man’s determination.

And that stirred her soul beyond belief.

“Is this better?” he asked, moving to stand directly in front of her.

She shook her head. She nodded. She didn’t know if having him this near did indeed make things better, or only made them that much worse. Putting what she wanted within her reach, as it were. A distance so easily closed, so easily widened.

“Renata?” His voice was firm, demanding even.

“I don’t know.” But, oh, she loved hearing him say her name. “This is so hard for me, Aiden.”

She’d been standing with her arms still wrapped tightly around her middle, and when Aiden moved in to complete the circle, she laid her forehead in the center of his chest. His hands were hugely comforting as they kneaded the tension from her back, hugely arousing as she imagined them providing another sort
of relief. Her thighs and abs flexed in an automatic response.

She still didn’t know; she didn’t know. But this time when she shook her head, swirls of his chest hair tickled her nose. And that was it. He was warm and he was here for her and he was the most solid wonderful thing she’d known in her life.

She kissed him, parting her lips there over his sternum and slipping her hands beneath his open shirt and around to his back, where straps of muscle bunched beneath her touch. When her tongue darted out to taste his skin, he groaned. The sound’s vibration tickled her mouth and the thought of never knowing this man was too much to bear.

With a sigh, she made her decision, the right decision, the only decision she could possibly make, then pulled away and looked up into his eyes. “Are you going to give me the rest of the tour?”

An eyebrow flared upward. “Did you want to eat first?”

Oh, no. Her hunger would not be satisfied in the kitchen. “I’d rather you show me the bedroom.”

For a moment he said nothing. Even his hands on her back grew still. And then his eyes seemed to darken, to grow hot and heavy-lidded. His desire was impossible to hide and obviously impossible to bank. She wondered if she would ever be able to live up to his expectations.

“Are you sure?” he finally asked, in a voice so gentle, a taming voice, a calming voice, that all she could think of were wild horses, and the way her body strained at the confines of clothing and propriety instead of corral fencing and bridles and bits.

She nodded, wanting to run free. “More sure than I’ve been about anything in a very long time.”

He took her hand then, his hold firm but not frightening, insistent but not cruel, and she followed him into the loft’s bedroom area, separated from the living space by a bathroom enclosure of bamboo and glass.

The bed was large, but welcoming rather than spacious and cold. With the sun setting on the building’s far side and the shades pulled down over the windows, the only light in the room came from the far end of the loft.

It was enough, though, for Renata to see what she needed to see, the only thing she needed to see. Aiden. He guided her to one side of the bed, a hand at the small of her back and the other still holding hers. When he stopped and stared down at her as if she was the only thing he wanted to see, his pulse beat wildly in the hollow of his throat.

She wanted so much to kiss him, but instead she placed three fingertips there to check the beat of his heart. Her own thudded in a matching rhythm and she smiled. “Just making sure I’m not the only one here with a runaway pulse.”

His hands went to her waist and he tugged her into his body. “Your pulse I can deal with. As long as the rest of you stays right here.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” She moved her fingertips to his lips, remembering the bookstore kisses, one soft and tender, one demanding and bold. She loved them both and didn’t know which she wanted. “At least not far.”

“Only as far as the bed,” he said, before catching the tip of her index finger with his teeth, sucking the
plump pad of flesh into his mouth and soothing it with his tongue.

She thought the pleasure would cause her to die. Her body flamed, there from the end of her finger to the tips of her breasts and down to the core of her sex buried deep between her legs. Arousal was a powerful thing; the potential for raw and savage beauty equaled by nothing else.

Pulling her finger away from his lips, she used both hands to push his shirt from his shoulders, completely baring the upper half of his body, with which he’d teased her since she’d walked in to find him asleep. He was a feast, and she wasn’t sure where to start.

So she started where she could best reach, the center of his chest. Holding his arms captured in his shirt-sleeves at the wrists, she returned her lips to his body. This time, however, she allowed her exploration to drift until she found his nipple hidden in a swirl of soft brown hair.

Dragging the flat of her tongue over the tip, she pressed down into the resilient flesh surrounding the sensitive disk. Aiden groaned and pushed his body against her, asking for more of the same.
Oh, gladly,
she thought, moving to the other, knowing as she did that her strength was no match for his.

He had the ability to free himself from her hold at his wrists on a whim. She wondered how long he’d wait, how strong his willpower might be, how badly he actually wanted her, and she increased the pressure of her mouth, wanting to take him to that brink.

His pulse beat in his wrists held in the incomplete circle of her fingers. It wasn’t that her hands were tiny; it was just that his were the size a man’s hands needed
to be. She couldn’t wait to feel them on her body. She longed for the pleasure of his touch.

When she instructed him, “Don’t move,” he uttered his agreement with a rough sound that wasn’t a word but a growl. She released him, moved her hands to his torso, where she placed her palms flat on his abs and trailed a line of kisses from his breastbone to the button fly of his jeans.

Once there, she went to work on his belt buckle with nimble fingers, backing up to sit on the edge of the bed, giving herself a better position and a much better view. His erection pressed fully, impressively along the ridge of his jeans, and she wasn’t sure how long she was going to be able to wait to take him into her body.

But neither did she want his help, and she pushed his hands away when he impatiently tried to offer. “I want to do this.”

“You’re taking too damn long,” he muttered.

“Careful, cowboy, or I’ll take a whole lot longer.” She loved the freedom she’d finally given herself to tease him mercilessly.

“Give me one thing at least.”

“Maybe.”

“If you’re not going to let me get my hands on you, at least let me lose the shirt.”

Her hands hovering at his fly, she pretended to consider. “Okay. But no touching. I’ve wanted this for too long to rush it.”

He had one arm out and then the other and had tossed his shirt to the floor before he said, “I’m not sure what you’re planning down there, but there’s a good chance I’ll be the one rushing here if you’re not careful.”

“Oh, I plan to be very careful,” she said.

As if she had a clue what she was talking about! As hard as he was, she was correspondingly wet. Careful was barely a consideration. All that mattered was getting him out of his jeans so she could see him and taste him, so she could take him into her mouth and learn what he liked.

A very practical part of her wanted to get this fumbling first time out of the way so they could linger through a second. But she wasn’t here to be practical. And she was going to hang on to the fantasy of a perfect first time as long as she possibly could.

Because for some reason, a reason she’d yet to examine too closely, this particular first time meant more than had any before.

She finished with his belt buckle and went to work on the row of copper buttons. Each movement of her hands brought a low moan to his mouth. One button, then two, and the waistband of his cotton boxers came into view. With the third button freed, his boxers took on a new dimension, a full dimension, and at the fourth button, then the fifth, she found herself in awe.

That awe refused to wait any longer. Seeing his bare belly, his abs so tight, rippled, the dusting of light brown hair, wasn’t enough. She wanted more. And so she carefully, very carefully, tugged both jeans and shorts down his thighs. His beautiful erection sprang free.

Aiden kicked out of the rest of his clothing while she took him in her hand. He was so incredibly warm, hot even. So solid and so firm. The male body inspired such feelings of wonder and amazement and, in her, a truly intense need to love. She’d never been able to
separate sex from emotional involvement, which made this encounter all the more frightening.

For the first time in her life she was going to sleep with a man before she’d made an emotional commitment. She smiled. Who was she trying to convince? She and Aiden might not have spoken of a future, but she wouldn’t have come here if her heart hadn’t been involved. And she knew by the way he wanted her that, if he wasn’t there yet, he was close.

She took him in her hands, feeling the skin of his penis, so soft even stretched to such lengths as it was. She moved one hand to cup his balls, held his shaft in the other. With the heel of her palm pressed to the base rigid with veins, she slid her thumb along the underside to the crevice of the head.

And then she leaned forward and wrapped her lips around him, sucking him into her mouth until the vibrations from his groan tickled her tongue. Inwardly, she smiled, loving that she so easily drew him into that response as much as she loved his taste and his feel.

So, when he broke his promise not to touch, she found no reason to argue. His hands went to her shoulders where he pushed his fingers beneath her cardigan to the straps of her silk camisole. His frustration wasn’t long in coming; he wanted her out of her clothes and couldn’t get to her, considering the way she was sitting.