Happily Ever After (25 page)

Christ,
he was going insane with lust!

He
cupped himself, needing to feel the pressure.

It
was a poor substitute for what he really wanted.

His
skin was burning. Sweat beaded on his brow. His mouth was as dry as desert sand.

The
silhouette’s head fell backward, hair spilling over the hammock. One hand fell
over the side. He heard her sigh again, and desire clawed at his loins, making
him bum a little hotter. And then, while he watched, she set the papers aside
and lay still in the hammock, staring at the ceiling for the longest time, her
breasts rising and falling with every breath she took.

Her
movements were exaggerated by the curtain, her breasts full and jutting proudly
for his lips to suckle.

God,
he wanted his mouth on that tender flesh, wanted to know what it was like to
feel her nipples harden against his tongue, wanted to suckle gently and tease
them between his teeth.

Never
before in his life had he wanted a woman so badly.

Never
had he fought so hard to restrain himself.

And
then she did something unspeakably erotic, and he nearly fell out of his
hammock in shock.

She
lifted a hand to her breast... at first, a tentative touch... and then with an
open hand as though she were listening to the beat of her heart through her
fingers.

His
own heart hammering his ribs without restraint, he lay back in his hammock, his
body tense and rigid, watching with delicious anticipation.

It
seemed an eternity that her hand lay so still on her breast... long enough for
Jack to feel a pang of guilt for wanting it to slide down and close over the
sweet mound of flesh

he
craved so desperately to touch for himself.

He
willed her hand to move, wanting to experience it vicariously at least.

And
then when he thought she was asleep, it did move... closing softly on her
breast. Jack’s heart nearly flipped out of his chest. His breath caught, and he
realized in that instant that his hand was still wrapped about his shaft. It
pulsed between his fingers, and he tightened his grip reflexively, pulling his
hips backward slightly, unable to deny himself the instant of pleasure.

As
he watched, her hand lifted again, and began to caress the tip of her breast,
moving gently back and forth.

He
held his breath, watching.

God
help him, he was almost beyond the point of reason.

Some
part of him urged him to speak out, to tell her that he was awake, that he
could see far more than he should, but the words caught in his throat and
nothing came out of his suddenly parched lips.

Her
head turned to one side then, and her hand moved to her other breast, caressing
it, too, and Jack thought he would explode with desire. Sweet mother of Christ,
he couldn’t have spoken to stop her had he tried.

He
would be insane to pleasure himself in her presence, but he was beyond thinking
...

CHAPTER 23

A gentle ocean rocked Sophia’s hammock, begging
her to sleep. Outside the cabin window, waves sang a sweet lullaby. Jack had
left the shutters open to the night, and the air was sultry and warm,
seductively so. A sweet, languorous breeze blew within, kissing her skin and
tangling like invisible fingers in her hair.

Good night, flower, she heard him whisper once
more, as she lay within her bed.

Sophie closed her eyes and tried to forget, but
her body ached with the memory of his touch. Her skin was afire, fevered
almost, and she instinctively knew why. That morning Jack had shown her the
heights of pleasure of which her body was capable, and no amount of denial
could keep the reminders at bay.

His scent permeated the room, speaking to her body
like a lover’s whisper.

That’s it,
flower... open for me...

She shuddered at the sound of his voice in her
ear, imagined though it was. His hands had touched her so knowingly, as though
he understood her body, and knew what it cried out for. His words had seduced
her so that she’d felt no shame, while his touch had evoked a pleasure so
intense she had thought she would die.

She couldn’t imagine Harlan ever touching her like
that... didn’t even want to think of it. She’d never dreamed any man would do
the things to her that she had allowed Jack to do, and never wanted to share
the experience with anyone else—not ever. It was Jack she wanted ... Jack
she was falling in love with.

The admission squeezed her heart just a bit.

She was falling in love with Jack MacAuley

She couldn’t seem to help herself, couldn’t seem
to keep herself from imagining a life at his side.

She hadn’t felt this way about Harlan, not even
from the first. Harlan had never stolen her breath with only a glance, or made
her body shiver at the sound of his voice. He’d never made her heart yearn for
his presence.

It was different with Jack.

Everything
was different with Jack.

Her body ached to feel him again... her mind
wandered to unspeakable thoughts... thoughts she had never dreamed would creep
into her brain.

She closed her eyes, and desire shuddered through
her. She wanted to kiss him the way he had kissed her... wanted to pleasure him
the way he had pleasured her...

She wanted to taste him, too.

Would he be shocked to find her lips there?
Alarmed? Would it bring him the same pleasure it had brought her? Would he
allow it? For that matter, what did it even look like? Her brows knit at the
thought. She had never seen a man unclothed before, or even let her brain
wander in that shocking direction.

But he had tasted her... and seemed to enjoy it...
and it left her with a burning curiosity...

Her breath quickened at the very thought.

Her heart beat furiously as she dared to lift a
hand to her breast, cupping it gently. She needed him to hold her... touch
her... caress her...

Dare she?

Could she?

No one would ever know. It was late, and Jack was
long abed. She hadn’t heard a sound from his side of the room in hours. She
tickled her breast with her palm, contemplating her outrageous thoughts. Her
body ached for something she knew only Jack could give her, but her curiosity
burned as well.

There was nothing to stop her... nothing... except
her conscience.

Reaching down, she seized the hem of her gown,
lifting it up to her thighs. She slid her hand between her legs, and froze,
unable to touch herself where she needed most to be touched.

Silence screeched at her.

Her heart beat so fast and so hard that it
reverberated throughout the room. She knew it would wake him, because it
thumped so loud in her ears that she could scarce hear anything else. She held
her breath, straining to hear his.

“Jack,” she said softly, and wasn’t certain
whether it was a plea for help, or whether she wanted only to know if he were
somehow still awake... watching...

It suddenly occurred to her that he might be...
though the curtain was between them, and she felt nearly certain he was asleep.

Still, her skin tingled and burned at the thought.

For the longest instant, Jack was uncertain how to
respond. His body ached for release, and his breath came labored.

Should he pretend to be asleep?

Should he answer?

He opened his mouth and tried to reply, but
nothing came out.

“Jack?” she whispered, more urgently this time.

He willed his heartbeat to slow and cleared his
throat softly, so that she couldn’t hear. But he couldn’t speak to save his
soul.

“Jack?” she persisted. “Are you asleep?”

He thought about the question an instant, somewhat
amused by it, and quashed the urge to answer flippantly. If she thought he’d
been awake the entire time, he knew she’d feel ashamed—whether she were
aware he could see her or not. And obviously, if he were asleep, he couldn’t
very well answer.

Apparently she decided he was asleep, and Jack
felt a pang of guilt for deceiving her.

Sighing softly, she settled back into the hammock,
clasping her hands together as though to force them to behave.

He did the same, mentally checking himself.

Without much success, he tried to shut out the
images that had tormented him... her hand on her breast... caressing... and was
forced to readjust once more.

He was much too aroused.

Damn.

She was so close, and yet so far. She was right
there across the room, but she wasn’t his. He had no right to seduce
her—or even to try.

But he wanted to.

In fact, he needed to.

His own two hands could bring sweet relief, but
not satisfaction, and he rejected the thought where only moments before he had
considered it. He wanted Sophie... not a few mere moments of pleasure.

He wanted to bury himself inside her beautiful
body... wanted to know what it would feel like to be inside her, pulsing ...
giving, taking.

A shudder went through him as the silhouette moved
once more...

A sigh escaped her, and her body arched, and
Jack’s entire body went rigid with anticipation. He recognized that sound, knew
what she needed, and knew she would be driven to seek it.

He wanted to give it to her.

But he didn’t dare move.

Keeping him stilled was the simple fact that she
belonged to someone else and he cared enough not to confuse her. But he
couldn’t stand the thought of Penn touching her—or any other man, for
that matter.

Her hand lifted once more to her breast, caressing
it, but no longer gently. Her fingers embraced it, and she moaned softly. His
own body pulsed in response. He watched with bated breath as she lifted up her
gown, and her hand slid once more between those beautiful thighs he remembered
so well... so soft...

The scent of her was intoxicating... the taste of
her like ambrosia ...

Again she moaned, and he envied those long, delicate
fingers and the dance they now performed.

He sat up in the hammock, drawn despite his
resolve to remain quiet. In shadow, her body lifted, her breasts arching
higher. The image transfixed him. She began to whimper softly, and it took
every ounce of his will to keep from going to her.

He closed his eyes and told himself it was only a
dream... a beautiful, heady dream, but when he opened them again, his heart
gave a powerful jolt.

Christ almighty, he couldn’t take it any longer.
He just couldn’t take it.

He wanted her.

The curtain was so near... the silhouette loomed
larger than life... her writhing was so sensual...

Never in his life had he seen a more beautiful
sight.

Never had he experienced something so incredibly
erotic.

He reached out to touch nothing but air, his hand
seeking the fullness of her breasts. His body thrummed with a desire so intense
it was almost painful. She tried to be quiet, but her soft gasps filled his
ears and hardened his body to the point he thought it would snap.

She found relief at last, crying out softly, her
body shuddering visibly, and Jack could only sit there and watch and listen...
as she sighed a sated sigh and fell back into the hammock.

Long after her breathing evened out and her body
went still, he sat there, unable to move, barely able to breathe.

His body was in pain, but he refused to relieve
himself... not after seeing the passion of which she was capable.

He wanted her, and nothing else would do.

He’d be damned if he’d settle for less.

But he couldn’t have her, and he knew it, and he
lay back in his hammock, resentful and bitter, and wanting once again to
throttle Penn. He tried to focus on that... his hands around Penn’s lily
throat, hoping to gain some measure of satisfaction in that ignoble thought...
and instead imagined the soft skin beneath Sophie’s gown.

Growling in frustration, he ran his hand through
his hair, tugging until it was painful, and prayed for mercy.

“Sweet Jesus,” he whispered fervently. “Kill me
now.”

CHAPTER 24

Sophie spent the entire next day piecing together
Jack’s research. She worked while he was away, wanting to surprise him. The
next day she began meticulously copying his script, everything just as it was,
or as she best remembered it. Her eye for detail had often been praised, and
she had never been more grateful for the God-given skill as she tried to
recreate his work.

Once she was finished, she went back and began to
fill in the details of each drawing, using her imagination to render each
sketch as vivid an image as possible.

The finished product was not her finest work. It
couldn’t possibly be in the time she’d had, but she was nevertheless proud of
her sketches, and hoped Jack would be pleased with them as well.