His Girl Friday (13 page)

"So do I," he murmured, brushing her lips with his in a soft, delicate kis .

She couldn't believe that he'd done that, with his whole family present. It was almost a statement of intent. But he had, and while they watched the movie, he watched her. He drew her hand slowly inside his open shirt and pres ed it gently against his warm, hard chest, nestling it into the thick, curling mat of hair. He watched her try to disguise her reaction to the intimacy, smiling when her breath came jerkily and her eyes darted to the rest of the Rit er clan. She needn't have worried. Eugene and Cynthia were cuddled together on the love seat nearest the television and Nicky was sprawled on his bel y on the carpet. Nobody paid the least at ention to Cabe and Danet a, which was a good thing because while Cabe coaxed her hand over his hard chest, his free hand was under her arm, blatantly teasing the curve of her breast.

I'l kil you, she thought through an agony of desire. I'l wrap your fishing rod around your neck and strangle you. Trying to sit stil and not let hunger show was incredibly difficult. She almost groaned out loud as his long fingers brushed back and forth, back and forth on the soft curve under her arm. In no time, she was leaning heavily against his side, her own arm moving inconspicuously to give him enough room, her body helples ly lifting with the cares and coaxing him toward the hard, aching tip..

"How about some coffee?" Cabe asked suddenly, moving his arm as he stood. "Danet a and I wil make it," he added when Cynthia reluctantly started to move.

"Want us to pause the film?" Eugene asked mischievously.

"No need. We'l catch up," Cabe returned. He had Danet a by the arm, propel ing her quickly out of the room and down the hal . In the kitchen, he pushed through the swinging door and backed her up against the refrigerator, his arms catching his weight as he bent toward her. "Final y," he whispered huskily as he bent to her mouth. "My God, I couldn't have lasted much longer.. !"

As his mouth covered hers, his hand glided over her breast completely, claiming it with expert tendernes . Danet a moaned and lifted her arms around him, welcoming his weight, his hunger. Mindles ly she kis ed him back while the hum of the refrigerator and the soft whir of the ice maker running inside it barely covered the heavy sigh of Cabe's breathing and the beat of her own heart.

He lifted his head and pulled her arms from around him, sliding her cool hands over his chest. "That's good," he breathed, looking down at them. "Here." He unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and pulled it free of his slacks, guiding her hands over the hair-roughened warmth of tanned muscle, showing her how to touch him. "I hope you like hairy men, lit le one," he said huskily, "because I'm like my chest al over.'

"I do," she choked, lifting her eyes to his. "I thought I'd die in there," she said jerkily.

"So did I." He slid his hands under her yel ow knit sweater and grazed over the soft fabric of her bra, watching her body jerk at the unfamiliar cares . "I won't hurt you," he said quietly. "Does this lacy thing fasten in front or in back?"

"In. . back."

He smiled gently. "Waste of time to wear it," he whispered, bending his head as his fingers found the catch and expertly undid it. Then his hands slid around her rib cage, his thumbs edging up, arousing, teasing, so that she gasped involuntarily and lifted toward them. "Want my hands on you?" he breathed into her mouth.

"Cabe," she sobbed. Her fingers grabbed his wrists and pulled them toward her.

"Easy now," he said softly. He lifted his head, looking down at her, pure pleasure in his eyes. "No, don't fight what you're feeling," he coaxed when she tried to back away, to get free of the desire that was heating up even as she fought it. His hands moved slowly on her, insistent, devastating. If it hadn't been for the refrigerator, she knew she'd have sunk to the floor.

"Oh.. .Cabe," she moaned, arching. "Make it. .stop,"

He nibbled her top lip gently. "Is it bad?" he whispered softly. "Do you ache?"

"Yes. .!"

"So do I, precious girl," he breathed against her lips. "Try not to cry out when you feel my mouth." She didn't understand until he pulled up her top and his mouth closed on her breast. She hadn't expected anything quite so intimate, and when she felt the warm moist suction and looked down at the dark head against her breast, she shuddered al over with the force of her feelings.

"Cabe!"

Her voice didn't sound like hers. It was wild and high-pitched and shaky. Her hands caught jerkily in his hair, pulling him closer while a white-hot streak of pleasure shot from her breast down into her bel y and set her on fire with the need for him.

"Not so hard, sweetheart," he whispered as he lifted his head and looked into her frantic eyes. "You're delicate here." He cupped her breast gently, his thumb smoothing slowly over the taut nub. "I don't want to bruise you with my teeth."

She managed to drag in a breath and gazed at him in wonder. His eyes were dark and glit ery as he looked at her pret y breasts with their pink tips so hard and dusky.

"I didn't know how beautiful a woman could be until now," he whispered softly. "I've never had a virgin, Da-nelta," he breathed as his mouth smoothed with exquisite lindernes over her high breasts. "I don't know if I can live through the pleasure of having you____"

She only half heard him. Her lips touched his dark hair gently while she stood trembling under the force of al the new sensations racking her slender body. His hands brushed over her barenes with tender, searching motions, adoring her while his mouth lifted back to cover hers. He moved so that one powerful leg eased between both of hers, and he let her feel him in an intimacy that destroyed what lit le was left of her self-control.

Her hands slid down his back, savoring the hard muscles, and onto his hips. He was powerfully built, muscles as hard as rock supporting that big frame. She loved touching him.

"Lower," he said against her mouth. "Don't stop there."

She swal owed, her eyes straining to see his. "I can't. . touch you that way."

"Yes, you can." His hands caught hers and pulled them to the back of his thighs, smoothing them upward. "Pull me to you and hold me there," he whispered. "There's nothing to be frightened of. We both know I'm aroused, but I can't very wel take you here."

"It wil hurt you," she whispered brokenly, obeying him even as she said it.

He smiled through waves of desire. "No, it won't." He bent to her mouth again and his own hands went to her hips, sliding them sensuously against his own so that the throbbing warmth of his body was reflected in hers, so that she could hardly breathe for the ache he kindled.

"If we were alone, I wouldn't stop," he whispered against her trembling lips. "I'd peel those jeans off and unfasten my belt, and we'd make love right here." Tears stung her eyes because she knew she'd welcome it. He knew it, too. He lifted his head and looked down into her soft gray eyes, which were brimming with tears.

"You'd give in to me if I asked you, wouldn't you?" he murmured, his voice deeper than usual, full of warmth.

"Yes."

His hands slid down over her breasts, over the soft swel of her hips. His eyes held hers while he fought for control. "What if I asked you to come to me tonight, when everyone is asleep?"

She bit her lower lip until it almost bled, trying to stal until her body stopped screaming for him.

He tapped her cheek gently. "Don't scar your lip. I won't ask you to sleep with me. Not yet, anyway." He moved away from her enough to refasten her bra and rearrange her top. His hands were deft, if a lit le unsteady. He smiled at her faint embarras ment. "Men and women have been pleasuring each other like this since the beginning of time. We didn't do enough to weigh down your conscience." He nuzzled his face into her throat. "I can think of a few things I'd like to do, though. Want to hear them?"

"No."

"Yes, you do." He whispered them into her ear, feeling her squirm and make protesting lit le noises. He lifted his head and chuckled with pure delight at the color in her face.

"You wouldn't like to do that with me?" he taunted.

She pushed at his chest. "You're a beast," she muttered, but her shy smile gave her away.

"I'm a hungry beast," he replied, wrapping her up tight in a bear hug, but without any sexual mes age behind it. He kis ed her pert nose, liking the way her curly hair floated over her shoulders and the sweet, womanly smel of her body in his arms. "Suppose we make that coffee and slice some of Cynthia's cake?'

She smiled. "Okay." Hesitantly she reached up to his face. He caught her fingers to his lips and then gave them free license to touch him, to explore his hard features.

"What are we going to do if you fal in love with me?" he asked softly, and not as if the thought bothered him at al . She felt her heart jump, but she wasn't going to be trapped with such a question. "We might have to shoot me," she said. "Or is that if I break a leg?" She frowned thoughtfully. He smiled at her, looking years younger and more relaxed than she'd ever seen him. "You look loved. When we get back in there, Eugene's going to grin his head off."

"You dragged me in here—" she began.

His eyebrows arched. "Me?" he interrupted. "My God, you were the one making roads in the hair on my chest. What was I supposed to do, sit there and let you torture me to death?"

She glared at him. "And just what were you doing while I was torturing you?" she demanded, sticking her fingers into his chest. He pursed his lips and dropped his gaze to her breasts. "Get ing an education on how virgins react to a sensual touch." She whistled through her teeth. "Naughty, naughty."

"You were the one trying to get me to move my hand closer to your. ."

"Let's make some coffee!" she burst out.

He let her go, chuckling at her high color. While she found the pot and the coffee canister and the filters, he stood against the refrigerator with his arms folded across his chest, looking rakish and deliriously handsome. She glanced at him, with helples appreciation, smiling when he caught her.

"You.. look a lit le rakish," she murmured.

"Is that a subtle hint that I need to button my shirt and tuck it back in so that Cynthia and Gene won't suspect that we've been making love to each other in their kitchen?" he asked innocently.

"If the way your father looked at us when we left was any indication, he could probably give you a play-by-play of everything we did." He chuckled, fishing in his pocket for a cigaret e. "No doubt about that." He lit it and blew out a cloud of smoke. "I'd quit, except that this is so damned pleasurable after.. " He stopped.

She paused with the coffee in one hand and looked at him, puzzled by the sudden stop. Then it dawned on her what he was going to say. That smoking was so pleasurable after he'd made love to a woman. She wasn't the first woman he'd done this, and more, with. And that brought back a lot of unpleasant memories. She turned away and put on the coffee without another word. The beautiful harmony had gone, dashed away by bit er reality. He came up behind her with a heavy sigh, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders. "I can't erase the past, as much as I might want to," he said after a minute. "But I meant it about my reputation. I'm not the playboy I let you think I was. It's important to me that you believe what I'm tel ing you." She looked up at him. "Why?" she asked gently, her gray eyes worried. "I'm just an interlude. ." His lips brushed hers, stopping the words. "I don't treat interludes the way I've treated you tonight," he said, quietly serious. "And I think you know it." She drew in a ragged breath. "I'm so afraid," she whispered, voicing her doubts as she searched his pale blue eyes.

"That makes two of us, honey," he replied surprisingly. "Commitment is the boogeyman to me. It's something I've never wanted." He searched her eyes, then let his gaze move down to her swollen lips, her firm lit le chin. "But I don't want an affair with you. I don't want other men touching you."

"I don't want other women touching you," she said hesitantly, and lowered her eyes to his bare chest. He laughed bit erly. "My God, we're get ing in over our heads, aren't we? A few kis es, and the world closes in. I didn't have any idea it would be like this."

"We could stop," she whispered without lifting her head.

"How?' he ground out. 'Feel this!" He drew her hand to his chest and positioned it flat over his heart so that its heavy, hard beat shook her fingers. "Have you ever tried to stop a tornado? Because that might be easier. Unles you want to move to Siberia or Alaska and change your name, I don't think we can stop it. Even then, I'd find you," he said in a hunted undertone. His fingers contracted over hers, moving them on his hot skin. "I'd find you wherever you went. I'd have to."

"Why?"

"Because half a man can't live," he bit off against her mouth as he took it.

She melted into his body with the touch of his lips on her own, giving in as natural y as she breathed. She also felt that way about him, as if she'd lose half of herself if she lost him. But it wouldn't last. Despite his as ertions that he wasn't promiscuous, he'd had his share of women, and they'd al been beautiful. Danet a had no il usions about her looks; she was pas able, but she was never going to be a great beauty. He'd tire of her. She was just a novelty, that was al . But she wanted him. She loved him. He wanted her, and if that was al she could have, al right. She slid her arms under his shirt and around his body, feeling his muscles tense, feeling him arch against her in a taut fever. In seconds he was aroused al over again, and this time she moved toward his body instead of trying to withdraw, loving the vivid evidence of his need for her.

"Not afraid of me now?" he whispered with rough humor.

"No," she whispered back.

His hands slid low on her spine and pushed her hips against his in slow, sensuous motions that made her teeth clench with pleasure.

"We're good together," he said unsteadily. "In bed, we'l satisfy each other so completely that neither one of us wil ever be able to make love with anyone else. And that," he added, "is what scares the hel out of me."