If You Want Me (20 page)

He placed a hand on the back of her neck and gently massaged it. “That’s the way it goes when people care about you. You can’t stop them from worrying.”

God, his hand felt wonderful on her neck, and not simply because he offered comfort. No, she couldn’t deny that the air between them was charged with a chemistry she didn’t understand. Her eyes fluttered shut.

“Turn your back to me. I’ll give you a massage.”

Her eyelids popped open. What was she doing? This was dangerous.

“I…I’m hungry.” No, she didn’t mean that. “I should change.” Damn, she didn’t mean that, either.

She made an effort to stand, but he clamped a hand on her shoulder and forced her to stay seated.

“No,” he said, his voice gentle, like a lover’s caress. Suddenly, both hands were tangled in her hair. “Not yet.”

Her heart beat furiously, and as he edged his mouth toward hers, she closed her eyes. His warm breath fanned her face and she had no idea that it could feel so erotic. With her eyes closed, the anticipation was greater, for she didn’t know when the moment of contact would happen. Nervous, she flinched as his lips touched the corners of her mouth, then melted as he softly suckled her lips. After what seemed like hours of torture, he finally covered her lips completely.

This was different from the night on the pier. Whether deliberate or not, Marcus was being more erotic. Bolder. This time, as his tongue delved into her mouth, his hands ventured from her hair down
the expanse of her throat to her breasts. She moaned, his fingers setting her body on fire.

He pulled back to look at her, his eyes mere slits. “I have to know, Alice. Did you wear this for me?” He stroked his thumbs over her nipples. “Because you knew it would turn me on?”

She managed only a whimper in reply. The truth was she had thrown on the sexy outfit because she wanted to see if he’d look at her again the way he had at Navy Pier. But admitting that somehow seemed absurd.

“I like it,” he continued when she didn’t respond.

Back and forth he stroked his thumbs, until her nipples puckered and pouted beneath his hands. “Marcus…”

He trailed seductive kisses from her mouth to her ear. “Damn, you are so beautiful.”

Her back stiffened. She couldn’t help it. As much as she’d always wanted to hear those words from him, actually hearing them now made her freeze. Slipping her hands between them, she pushed him away. “I have to go.”

Bewilderment flashed in his eyes. “Why?”

Her throat constricted and she couldn’t form words. He’d just said she was beautiful, yet she cringed inside. Now that she was Desirée he could see her as beautiful, but he’d never been attracted to plain, homely Alice.

“This isn’t right.” Her chest heaved with each ragged breath.

Marcus ran a finger down her neck, to her cleavage. “It feels right to me.”

“No,” she said forcefully. Sliding across the sofa, she turned her back to him. “This isn’t real.”

“Yes, Alice. It’s real.”

Flustered, she desperately wished she hadn’t said what was on her mind. She wished it more so when Marcus slid behind her and brushed her hair over one shoulder.

God, it felt good. It felt real.

“No.” She buried her face in her hands.

She felt and heard him more than she saw him, but when she lifted her head and opened her eyes, he was crouched on his haunches before her.

“Don’t…look at me like that.” Pushing herself off the sofa, she shot to her feet. He got to his feet too, his tall frame towering over her.

“What did I do wrong?”

How could she tell him? How could she say what was really in her heart? That she wanted him to want her for her, not her new, sexy image.

“I can’t stay here.”

She tried to step around him, but he blocked her path.

She tried to be strong, for she couldn’t afford to make the mistake of loving him again. “Let me go.”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

He was going to make her act like a complete fool in front of him. Already she looked like an idiot, one minute melting into his kiss, the next ready to have a fit because he told her she was beautiful.

Beautiful.
Her stomach dropped. She had to leave. She stepped to the right. He matched her step as though they were dancing.

“Will you stop that?” he asked. He put his hands on her face to hold her in place, but she shook him off. With a frustrated sigh, he dropped his hands to his hips.

“Just let me…leave.” God help her, she knew how pathetic she must seem, but she couldn’t stop herself.

“Not until you tell me why.”

Again, she tried to step around him. Again, he blocked her path.

“Marcus—”

If he was smart, he would let her escape. Lord knew he didn’t need the complication of a woman in his life, and this one seemed like she was nothing but trouble. He didn’t know what to say around her, how to touch her, and damn if she didn’t send totally mixed messages. One minute, she seemed to want him, the next she clammed up.

But instead of letting her go, he closed the distance between them in one quick stride. And before he knew what he was doing, he smothered her mouth with his.

It was far from gentle, and when he pulled away, they were both breathless.

“Why did you do that?” Alice asked, her chest heaving. The soft mounds of her breasts quivered with each breath, and Marcus’s groin ached at the sight. He had the craziest desire to take her right there on the living room floor.

“Because I like kissing you.”

“
Why,
Marcus?”

Wasn’t it obvious? “Because I find you incredibly attractive.”

“No, you don’t.”

“What?” he asked, bewildered.

She didn’t answer. Dodging past him, this time she escaped, and he let her go. What else could he do? He only wished he knew what he’d done wrong.

It didn’t make sense, but he felt a pain so deep inside as he heard the front door open, then close. He felt helpless, like he’d hurt her, but he didn’t know how or why, and it was the last thing he had wanted to do.

But seconds later, when he heard the crash, the pain dissipated and was replaced with fear. Then his cop instincts took over. He ran.

Lord God in heaven, could she do nothing right?

She’d tried to make a clean getaway, but in her haste, she’d put the car in drive instead of reverse and plowed right into Marcus’s Mustang.

Emitting a groan, she dropped her forehead onto the steering wheel. The horn sounded, startling her, and she jerked her head back up in time to see Marcus storming out the front door. God, he was going to be livid. She’d just smashed into his car.

But instead of stopping to check out the damage on his bumper, he rushed to her door and yanked it open. “Are you okay?”

She nodded weakly.

Leaning into the car, he scooped her out. “Come here.”

It took her a moment to realize that he wasn’t at all concerned with the car. Only with her.

Putting her on her feet, he said, “I know it’s been
a while for me, but usually when a man tells a woman that she’s beautiful, she doesn’t run out and smash his car.”

“Damn you, Marcus.” She pounded a fist against his chest.

“That’s assaulting a police officer.”

She pounded him again, this time giving it all her strength. “Like I care.”

“Ouch.”

She moved to strike him again, but he grabbed her hands and held them between his. And as he stared down at her, Alice thought he might kiss her senseless right there in his driveway. Instead, he groaned as he glanced at something over her shoulder. Whipping her head around, Alice saw his next-door neighbor—an older black woman—standing on her front porch, straining to see what was going on.

“Come on,” he said. “Before people start thinking we’re having a fight.”

“We are having a fight.”

“Not that kind of fight,” he said, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close with more force than was necessary. “Hello, Mrs. Brady,” he said cheerfully as he led Alice up the steps.

“Everything okay?” the woman asked.

“Sure,” Marcus replied. “My girlfriend just had a little mishap.”

“Girlfriend?”
Alice queried, sounding appalled.

Glancing at her, she even looked appalled, and Marcus wanted to ask if the thought of being his girlfriend was really that revolting. Instead he ignored her as he ushered her into the house. Inside, he led her to the living room sofa, ordered her to sit,
then went to the kitchen. Moments later, he returned with a glass of water. “Here.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Drink it.”

“No wonder you became a cop. I don’t remember you being this…pushy.”

“Occupational hazard.”

“No doubt.”

“Come on, Alice. I’ll feel better if you drink this.”

Feeling very much like a loser, Alice accepted the glass and gulped down several swallows of the cold water. It didn’t make her feel better. Neither did the fact that Marcus loomed over her, his arms crossed over that beautiful brawny chest, as if he were a scolding parent.

“Want to tell me what that was all about?”

“No.” How fitting. She sounded like a defiant two-year-old.

“Damn it.” He grunted. “You want to run away from me that badly?”

Sipping the water, she ignored him.

He blew out a ragged breath and sat beside her. “Alice, whatever I did, I’m sorry.”

She sipped more water. Tried to compose herself.

“If you don’t want me to kiss you again, just tell me, and I promise I won’t do it again.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“So you do like it when I kiss you?”

She glanced at him. “I didn’t say that, either.”

“Well, do you or don’t you?” he asked in a matter-of-fact tone.

She ignored him.

“All right. I’ll tell you what I think, and you tell me if I’m right or wrong. We were kissing, and you
seemed to like that. Then I said you were beautiful, and you freaked.”

“Why?” she asked, so low she wasn’t sure she’d actually said the word.

“Why did you freak? You tell m—”

“No. Why did you say…?” She stopped. “Do you really think I’m…beautiful? Me, Alice, or me, Desirée?”

He didn’t answer right away.

“That’s what I thought.” She guffawed. “You are so shallow, Marcus Quinn.”

“Wait a minute!” Marcus sounded annoyed. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Everyone thinks that just because I’ve lost some weight, I’m a different person. I had hoped you could see me for who I still am. The same Alice Watson who was your friend years ago.”
The one you were never interested in before—so why now?

“Ah, I see.”

“No, you don’t see. You think you can just say that I’m beautiful now and it’s supposed to make a difference. Like it’s supposed to make me feel good, when you were never attracted to me in high school.”

“Wait a minute—this is about high school?”

God, she’d said too much. He didn’t know how much she’d loved him years ago. Why, oh why had she opened her big mouth? “Forget it.”

“No, I won’t forget it. What did you mean?”

He was looking at her curiously, making it clear he’d sensed where this was going. “I’m just…stressed.”

“No, this is about more than stress. Are you saying…were you
in love
with me in high school?”

“I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“You
were.
” He sounded genuinely surprised, if not flattered. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“What difference would it have made?” Alice asked, not bothering to deny the truth any longer. “You were so goo-goo ga-ga over Tanisha.”

“I never knew.”

All right, she’d told him. And it hadn’t been that bad. He didn’t seem mortified. Just surprised, which made her wonder if it would have made a difference if she’d confessed her feelings for him ages ago. Would he have loved her back?

Marcus reached for her face, gently stroked it. “Why don’t we forget the past and concentrate on the fact that I’m extremely attracted to you now.”

Her stomach did a nervous flip-flop at his words. “To Desirée.”

“To
you.
”

“Now that I’m Desirée.” Even to her own ears, she sounded lame for belaboring the point. But she didn’t want to shut up, because she knew if they stopped talking, they’d end up in each other’s arms.

“Will you
listen?
”

Alice jumped to her feet and he did, too. When she turned away, he took hold of her arm and whirled her around. Her flesh tingled beneath his touch.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” His voice had softened, and damn if it didn’t sound like he was whispering words of love to her. “I want you.” His gaze fell to her breasts. “I want to touch you, taste you—”

“Oh, God, stop it.” She shrugged away from him and turned, but he whipped an arm around her waist before she could escape. Forcefully, he pulled
her against him. Her round buttocks pressed against his hardness.

“You feel that?” His breath was hot on her ear. “That’s how much I want you.”

Her chest rose and fell erratically, matching the erratic beat of her heart. Marcus Quinn had a hard-on. For
her
. It was impossible.

Yet it was possible, for she could feel the proof.

There was another time when she’d dared to believe that Marcus thought she was beautiful. A time she’d dared to believe he’d find her so irresistible that he’d pull her in an embrace and kiss her senseless, then make slow, passionate love to her. That dream was coming true, so why was it so hard for her to accept it?

Because it had always been a dream, one she hadn’t truly expected to make a reality, given the fact that Marcus had been in love with someone else. Now that the dream was playing itself out, it scared her to death.

She struggled to escape him, but he held her in place.

“Don’t, Alice. Don’t run from me. Not now.”

And she was so tired of running. So she let him turn her in his arms until she faced him, let him mold her body to his, let him press his strong chest against her soft breasts. His thighs against her legs. His rock-hard penis against her abdomen.

Oh, God. He really did have a hard-on for her.

“I want you so damn much, Alice.”

He kissed her before she could respond, before she could run. As his lips slowly covered hers, her resistance—and her fears—slowly melted away until there was only heat and need.

He broke the kiss and turned her around so that her back once again faced his front. Though the room was filled with heat, she shivered as he brushed her hair over one shoulder and stroked his nose across the back of her neck. Then again. The torture was so exquisite, Alice thought she might die from it. As his nose flirted with her skin, his fingertips pressed into the softness of her belly, urging her closer. And when his lips skimmed her nape, her legs turned to jelly.

“You’re stunning, Alice.”

“N-no. D-don’t say that.” She wanted to make love to him, but she didn’t want to be reminded of the truth she knew—that this was about lust for Desirée, not any feelings for Alice.

“It’s the truth. God, you must know that.”

“No…” But in defiance of her own words, she whimpered and reached for his thighs. They were solid, strong, and she loved the feel of them. And she couldn’t help thinking about how they would feel naked against her.

He moaned softly against her ear. “Yes, Alice. Touch me.”

“No.” She pulled her hands away. Then cringed as she felt like an idiot. She was so afraid to go after what she wanted. Because she wanted it to be more than just sex.

Realization crashed down on her like a ton of bricks. Lord help her, she was still in love with him.

“Yes.” He turned her in his arms. Planting his lips on her chin, he suckled softly, and damn if her body didn’t turn to pure putty.

“I want to touch you.” He ran his fingers down her arms. “I want to taste you.” His tongue flicked
over the base of her neck. “I want to feel my body between your legs.” Placing a knee between her thighs, he forced her legs apart, intimately pressing his thigh against her. “Stop me whenever you want.”

She purred in response.

He slipped a hand beneath her skirt. “You want to know what else?”

“Hmm?”

His fingers tickled her skin as they trailed higher, making her hotter than she imagined possible. “I want to try things with you I’ve never done before. Like massaging you in body butter and slowly licking it off.”

“Oh, God.”

“Mmm.” He cupped her through her underwear, then stroked his thumb over her. He had long passed the point of no return. “Would you let me?”

She squeezed her thighs around his hand. “Oh, yes.”

Lowering his head, he brushed his mouth over the mound of her breast, all the while stroking her. Her body went up in flames. Arching into him, she dragged her top down past the breast he favored, exposing a hard nipple. Immediately his lips covered it and he suckled like a man who had found gold.

She whimpered. And when his fingers slipped beneath her panties, she threw her head back, a cry escaping her throat.

With his body, he forced her backward to the sofa. She collapsed against it and fell onto her back. He pulled at her top until her other breast was exposed, then he flicked his tongue over her other nipple
until she cried out from the pleasure. He kissed a path down to her navel, then pushed her skirt up until it was bunched around her waist. He paused over her, simply staring at the treasure before him, and she watched him, waiting, desperately wanting this intimate pleasure more than she’d wanted anything else in her life.

He brought his mouth down on her, pressing his tongue against her through her panties. The pressure of his tongue sent her over the edge. Her body was so taut, so on fire, that she exploded at the slightest contact. But as she gripped his head and moaned and rocked her own head back and forth, he didn’t relent. Instead, he pushed aside the lacy fabric and kept up the pressure, so much so that she thought she would surely die.

“Oh, God, oh God, oh God…”

When she couldn’t stand it any longer and felt the tears run from her eyes, he lifted his head and brought his lips to hers. He ravaged her mouth like a man who’d been starved of affection all his life.

She wanted him inside her. Gripping his buttocks, she pulled him against her as he kissed her senseless.

“Wait,” he said.

She lay on the sofa as he rose and ran up the stairs. He was back in less than five seconds, with a square plastic package. A condom. It shouldn’t have bothered her, but it did.

“I bought them this afternoon,” he said sheepishly, reading her thoughts.

“Oh.” She smiled.

He sat beside her and ran a finger over one breast, watching as it puckered, then lowered his head and
brushed his lips over the hardened peak. She whimpered.

“Let me take this off. I want to see all of you.”

Sitting up, Alice allowed him to remove her top and her bra. It felt thrilling to have his hands skim her body as he stripped her slowly, leaving her only in her black panties. As she sat half-naked before him, as his eyes hungrily took in the sight of her, she felt like more of a woman than she’d ever been. And she felt beautiful indeed.

Beautiful. Closing her eyes, she drew in a deep breath, savoring the feeling. When she opened her eyes, she saw him watching her, smiling. So she reached for him, pressed her palms to his chest, let them stay there a moment. He felt wonderful. He was hard, strong, hot. And right now, he was hers.

She wanted him. Pulling at his shirt, she slipped it off his chest. Her eyes went to his nipples, dark and delicious. The thought shocked her, made her wonder what it was about Marcus that always made her weak with longing. It had always been him.

Her eyes ventured lower, to his flat, beautifully sculpted abdomen. She touched him there, enjoyed the feel of him as he trembled beneath her hand. For once, she felt powerful, so she acted like she had power. Power to thrill him, to make him hers. Trailing her hand lower, she reached for the button on his jeans. His arousal strained against his jeans, large and hard.

God, she wanted him.

She undid the button, but the jeans were too snug to force off his hips quickly. Marcus helped her, and when he stripped down to his black bikini briefs, her breath snagged in her throat at the sight of him.