Lover in the Rough (15 page)

“Let me love you,” Chance said, his voice husky. He nuzzled the sensitive edges of her ear, nibbled delicately on her earlobe, her lower lip. “I’ll be very gentle, as though it were your first time. And in some ways it will be. There’s so much woman buried in you that you don’t even know about.”

Reba’s answer was a sigh through parted lips, a subtle change in her body against his, a soft movement that said more clearly than words that she had already given herself to him in her mind. She felt the response that shuddered through him in the instant before he controlled it. She found nothing to fear in his deep hunger for her, and much to enjoy. With the shadow of a smile, she touched the moonlight and warmth caught in his moustache.

“Love me,” she murmured, asking for more than his touch or his hunger or his strength.

“I will,” he said, answering only part of her words, his hands moving strongly over her. “Nothing could stop me now . . . except you. You’ll always be able to stop me,
chaton
,” he whispered against the hollow of her throat. “All you have to do is say no. I’ll hear you, no matter how much I want you.”

Chance shifted position slowly, giving her time to protest as he rolled over until she was partially beneath him, moonlight pouring over her face. His hands found the warmth beneath the cool softness of her hair. He whispered her name as her lips parted for him. Gently, powerfully, his kiss consumed her, slow movements of his tongue foreshadowing the more intimate claiming to come.

Reba felt her body change, felt unfamiliar fire shimmer through nerve endings she didn’t know she had. With a small sound she softened beneath him, calling to him wordlessly in a language older than civilization. He responded by kissing her even more deeply, his body hard with passion and restraint, his hands gentle as they slid through the moon-bright softness of her hair. Slowly he unzipped her windbreaker and stroked her from throat to waist with knowing hands. She closed her eyes and smiled, enjoying his touch as she had never enjoyed any man’s.

“When I saw this blouse,” Chance murmured against her lips, her shoulder, the soft skin of her neck, “I had to buy it for you.” His fingers undid the first of the many buttons that went from the neckline over her left breast and down along the length of the blouse. “Tiny buttons shaped like gems. I couldn’t wait to see you wearing this. And when I saw you, I couldn’t wait to undress you. Now”—his laugh was short, almost harsh—“my fingers are shaking so much that I can hardly undo the buttons.”

The idea of being able to affect his strength to that degree made Reba’s breath stop. Chance loomed above her, his eyes pure silver, radiant with moonlight. She saw a man who was rough, hard, dangerous, aroused . . . and so gentle with her that she had never felt safer, more cherished, more exquisitely alive.

“It’s all right,” she said, turning to kiss his hand. “Whatever you want is all right. I trust you, Chance. Teach me how to love you.”

The breath came out of him in an explosive rush. “My God,” he said hoarsely, “you already know how to love better than I ever will.” His lips came down over hers as he kissed her with a deep hunger that sent fire through her. “But I’ll teach you about pleasure,
chaton
. I promise you that.”

His hand moved over the buttons, fingers deft, no longer trembling. The dark blouse parted in an ever widening triangle, revealing the warmth beneath. In the moonlight her skin had the purity and sheen of a pearl. His hands had already told him that she wore nothing beneath the soft fabric, but even so, he wasn’t prepared for her beauty.

Reba sensed his sudden stillness. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her eyes searching his face.

“Nothing,” Chance breathed, brushing his moustache over the tip of her breast, feeling it swell in response. “You’re perfect, firm and silky, changing as I touch you. Yes, my woman, change for me.”

She started to speak, to tell him that she felt perfect when he touched her, but his mouth had gently closed over her breast. Sensations radiated through her. She shivered until she felt the velvet roughness of his tongue on her nipple, and then she moaned and her fingers tightened in his thick hair. She didn’t feel the sudden coolness of night as her blouse opened fully. She felt only his touch, the heat of his mouth pulling gently on her breast, teeth delicately tormenting her.

When Chance lifted his head, Reba made a small sound of protest, wanting more. He laughed softly and teased her with the hard tip of his tongue, then caught her in his mouth again with a strength that made her arch against him in an instinctive response to the fire spreading through her. His hand found her other breast, caressed it. He brushed the nipple slowly, coaxing it into hardness. Then he caught the tip of her breast between his fingers and rolled it deftly, enjoying the shudders that went through her body.

His mouth roamed between her breasts, licking and biting gently, teasing her until she twisted against him. And then he increased his tender assault, caressing her breasts while he claimed her mouth in a kiss that was as deep as it was powerful. When she arched against him again, his body shifted until he was lying between her legs. He moved once, letting her feel his arousal. When he lifted his head to look down at her, she wore a smile as old as woman.

“Thank God,” he said, covering her with tiny, swift kisses. “Some women like being petted but are put off by a man’s need. I didn’t think you were like that, but it would have explained why you haven’t slept with a man since your divorce.”

Surprise showed for a moment on Reba’s face. She slid her hands over his back again, enjoying the resilience and strength of him. “I didn’t want the men who wanted me. But you—I want you, Chance. Being wanted by you is the most exciting thing I’ve ever felt.”

“Is it?” he asked softly, watching her eyes.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes.”

She unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, then the second and the third and the rest until he rolled aside and pulled off the shirt with a supple twist of his body. His tanned skin gleamed beneath the midnight hair curling across his chest. Moonlight flowed over ridges and swells of muscle, leaving highlights and shadows that she lovingly traced with her fingertips. When her nails scraped lightly through the mat of hair and over his nipples, a tremor of desire ripped through him.

“You like that,” she said, her pleasure in the discovery showing in her voice. “Do you like this, too?”

She ran her tongue over his dark male nipple, caught it lightly between her teeth, tugged, caressing him as he had caressed her. The heightened desire that coursed through him was as clear to her as the pattern of moonlight on his skin. She laughed softly and continued her exploration of him until he moved swiftly, pinning her beneath him again.

“The second time you can tease me,” said Chance, his teeth white beneath his sable moustache, the tip of his tongue glistening as he bent to caress her, “but not this time. There’s too much I want to show you the first time. You make me very hungry, Reba,” he whispered against her breasts, “so hungry I don’t want to wait.”

His hands devoured her, removing her clothes, savoring the feminine curves and silky firmness of her body. When she was naked in the moonlight, he looked at her with molten silver eyes. For long moments he didn’t touch her, fighting to control the hunger hammering in his blood.

“Chance?” she whispered.

“It’s all right,” he answered in a husky voice. “I didn’t know I could want a woman like this. But I know now.”

He took off his own clothes with swift motions and lay down beside her. When he touched her, it was lightly, a breath of a caress that went from her temples to her toes. The delicacy of his fingers made her burn for more. She arched beneath his hands, asking silently. He answered with a deep kiss that consumed every bit of her mouth. His hand moved from her breast down her body to the springy thickness of her hair. He savored the satin curve of hip and thigh, teased her until she sighed and shifted her body, inviting a more intimate touch.

His hand slid down, seeking the warm darkness between her thighs. When he felt her liquid softness and heat, he knew beyond any doubt that she wanted him. He touched her slowly, learning the intimate textures of her desire, stroking her until she cried out and her warmth flowed over him. A fine sweat misted his skin as he felt the deepest rhythms of her pleasure. Taut with desire and restraint, his body gleamed above her like polished stone in the moonlight.

She opened her eyes, dazed by the sensations that shivered through her. “Tiger God,” she whispered wonderingly, her hands sliding down his hard male body, touching him.

He made a hoarse sound and covered her, all of her, holding her hair like hot silk between his fingers, Tiger God burning bright inside her, pleasure expanding with every movement of his body until she cried out and came apart in his arms. He let go of his steel restraint, sharing her ecstasy as release shuddered through him.

Then he held her until they could breathe evenly once more. He kissed her lightly, repeatedly, as though memorizing her face with his lips. Her breath sighed out, pleasure and contentment in a single soft sound. Arms around her, lifting her, he rolled onto his side without disturbing the intimacy of their embrace.

“If I’d known what was going to happen,” said Chance, nuzzling her ear, “I’d have brought one of the sleeping pads. I’d hate to bruise your lovely body on the hard ground.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” said Reba, burrowing into his warmth, holding him close.

He smiled and teased her ear with the tip of his tongue. “Let me know when you begin to get cold.”

“What are you going to do then?” she asked lazily, smoothing his chest hair with her palm.

“Put your clothes back on you.”

“I think I’d rather be cold,” she said, smiling, enjoying the confidence that came from being certain that she had satisfied him as fully as he had satisfied her. It was a new feeling to her, peaceful and yet almost bold.

Silent laughter vibrated in his chest. “I’ll let you put my clothes back on me,” he offered.

Reba made a face at him. “You feel better without your clothes.”

“So do you,” he said, moving against her with an intimate knowledge that made her breath catch all over again. “You feel better than anything I’ve ever touched.
Chaton
.”

She gave herself to his embrace with unconcealed pleasure. Her lips opened beneath his, meeting his tongue with sweet changing pressures of her own that she had learned from him. When the kiss finally ended she curled against his shoulder, drawing warmth from him. For a time they lay quietly, motionless but for his hand stroking the long curves of her body.

The wind moved in the chaparral on the slope of the hill. Grass bent and trembled in the moonlight.

“You’re cold,” said Chance, feeling her flesh roughen beneath the cool wind.

Reba said nothing, not wanting to move out of his arms, to dress, to wake from the dream of him filling her senses until she felt nothing but a pleasure so great she could only cry out and hold onto him.

With a lingering kiss, Chance separated himself from her and gathered up her clothes. “No,” he said when she reached for the jeans. “Let me.”

The wine lace of her underwear looked black in the moonlight. He smoothed the lace over her, kissed her navel lingeringly, then slowly pulled her jeans into place and fastened them. As he picked up the blouse, its tiny faceted buttons glittered and winked. He eased the soft fabric over her arms and shoulders. Beginning at the bottom, he fastened each button.

When he reached the point where he would have to cover her breasts, he stopped. He cherished each breast with his mouth, murmured another liquid, alien phrase and buttoned the rest of her blouse with obvious reluctance.

“Warmer?” Chance asked softly, stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers.

“Yes,” said Reba, her voice trembling slightly, “but I’m not sure it’s the clothes.”

His smile was a flash of white against the dark planes of his face. He stepped away from her to gather up his own clothes. She moved quickly, scooping up everything in sight. She knelt in front of him, her arms crossed possessively over his clothes. He looked at her quizzically.

“I thought you were going to let me dress you,” she said.

“It’s more fun to undress me,” he drawled.

“I’ll remember that,” she promised demurely.

The first piece of clothing Reba pulled out of the angle in her arms was Chance’s shirt. She set the rest aside and stood. She pulled first one sleeve and then the other over his arms. Standing very close, she rubbed her hands over his chest beneath the folds of cloth, enjoying the masculine textures of hair and muscle and rippling strength. Finally she buttoned the shirt, standing on tiptoe to kiss him as she fastened the last button. His arms closed around her, holding her tightly.

When his arms loosened she slipped from him to kneel at his feet. She reached for the rest of his clothes, hesitated, then let the cloth fall from her fingers.

“Not yet,” she whispered, running her hand along the strong column of his leg.

Chance’s muscles shifted and flexed beneath her touch, moving smoothly under skin that had been burned dark in the deserts and jungles of the world. Reba cupped her hands around his muscular calf, enjoying the feel of his strength. With a shadowy smile, she closed her eyes and moved her hands from his ankle up to the powerful muscles of his thigh. As though pulled by a magnet, she put her cheek against the outside of his thigh. Underneath the hair-roughened surface, his leg was hard and warm.

The wind stirred again, blowing her hair across his bare legs, wrapping silky strands around his hips, caressing him like cool flames. She smoothed her cheek against his thigh as her fingers shaped the contours of his leg, oblivious to everything but the unique male textures of her Tiger God.

Suddenly Reba found herself pulled to her feet, held immobile in hard hands. “What’s wrong?” she said. “Don’t you like—”

The question died in her throat as she saw Chance’s hot silver eyes. His mouth came down over hers with a force and demand that would have frightened her an hour ago, but now it sent streamers of fire through her. She buried her hands in his thick hair and kissed him with a hunger that she had learned from him. His hands swept over her, peeling away the clothes that he had so carefully put on her just moments before.