Night Moves: Dream Man/After the Night (41 page)

Slowly Gray’s head came up. The expression in his eyes was indescribable, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. He took a deep breath, and exploded. “Goddamn it, woman!” he roared with furious indignation. “Can’t you tell I’m
busy?”

Faith dissolved into laughter.

Eighteen

F
aith had never been more embarrassed in her life. When she got home, she dashed into the house and locked all the doors, as if that would do any good. She had no clear memory of the drive home, but she could recall in excruciating detail every step she had made through the courthouse, with her face flaming and her thighs sticking together, and every curious look had made her want to cringe. She hadn’t, though; she had walked out with her chin in the air and an “I dare you to say anything” look on her face. The bluff must have worked, because no one had stopped her.

She had jumped off the counter as soon as Gray released her, and locked herself in one of the stalls. Uncontrollable giggles shook her as she tried to tidy herself. The arrival of her panties, tossed over the top of the stall, sent her into absolute whoops. “Would you shut up?” she heard Gray mutter fiercely, and she all but collapsed in hysterics. He said something else, but she didn’t understand him, and a moment later the door squeaked as he left. It swung open immediately, and a pair of navy pumps took up residence in the stall next to Faith. The owner of the pumps was also the owner of the shrill voice, and she was extremely indignant.

“I ought to tell the sheriff,” she said huffily, loud enough that Faith could hear her over the sound of her own giggles.
“Carryin’ on in the ladies’ rest room! No telling who might have walked in, maybe a mother with her little kids, and just imagine children seein’ something like that. It’s sinful and disgusting, the way people don’t have no shame anymore—”

The tirade was delivered to the accompaniment of a steady stream of urine splashing into the toilet bowl. Evidently part of the lady’s wrath was due to the fact that she had been in desperate need of a bathroom. Trying to control her giggles, Faith took advantage of the woman’s preoccupation and dashed out of the stall. Once in the hallway, she tried to assume a normal air, and walked quickly to her car. Gray hadn’t been anywhere in sight, but then she hadn’t exactly looked for him. Probably he’d ducked into the men’s room.

Faith sank down in a kitchen chair and covered her face with her hands, groaning with mortification. What was wrong with her, that she couldn’t manage to say no to him even in a public place?
The courthouse rest room!
Even Renee had used more discretion than that.

The telephone rang, but she didn’t move to answer it. The machine in the office picked up, and she heard Gray’s deep voice, but was too far away to understand what he was saying. He hung up, and a few minutes later the phone rang again. This time, however, Faith recognized Margot’s voice. She knew she should pick up, but she didn’t. She simply couldn’t carry on a normal conversation; her nerves were still jangling, and she was physically shaking from the aftereffects of an adrenaline rush. She didn’t understand how risk junkies got addicted, because the crash was making her sick.

When she thought her knees would support her, she got up and headed for the bathroom. What she needed right now, more than anything, was a shower.

•  •  •

Gray shook his head in disbelief at himself as he drove to Faith’s house. He was sure she was there, even though she hadn’t answered the phone. He couldn’t believe what they’d done, or the force of the attraction that had made it
irresistible. He hadn’t done anything
that
stupid even as a teenager, and God knows he’d been wild as a buck.

He snorted with suppressed laughter. That damned old biddy! Faith had jumped up and hidden in a stall, laughing like a maniac, and he’d been left there with one hand on the door to keep it shut, and his pants down around his knees. Quickly he’d shifted position, moving to stand with his back against the door while he pulled up his pants. Faith’s panties had been lying on the floor, so he’d scooped them up and tossed them over the stall, and she’d shrieked all the louder despite his order to be quiet. The old bitch outside wasn’t going away; she kept beating on the door, getting louder and louder. Between her and Faith, he was almost deafened.

Finally he told Faith he’d meet her out front, but he wasn’t certain she’d heard him, the way she was whooping hysterically. There was nothing to do but brazen it out. After glancing down to make certain everything was zipped and fastened, he opened the door and stepped out, glaring down at a plump, red-faced woman who was all but squirming with indignation. She sputtered furiously at him, but Gray cut her off. “The men’s room was full,” he snapped. “What did you expect me to do, piss in the hallway?” Then he stalked into the men’s room, which was right next door, and leaned against the wall until his shoulders stopped shaking with silent laughter, because the old biddy had snapped right back, “Then what
did
you piss in, the sink?”

Oh, Jesus. He began laughing helplessly again. He knew the old biddy, at least by sight. She worked in the tax assessor’s office. The tale that he’d been fooling around with some hussy in the women’s rest room would be all over the courthouse by lunch, and all over the town by tomorrow morning.

His grin faded. Faith would be mortified.

She probably was anyway. She hadn’t waited for him out front, but had probably driven home with all possible speed, and barricaded herself in the house. His little Puritan would be sick with embarrassment.

He sighed with relief when he saw her car in the driveway. He pulled in, but didn’t stop behind her car. Instead he
steered his car around to the backyard, and circled behind the open tool shed where she kept her lawn mower. Honeysuckle vines grew over the shed and part of the way up a steel cable bracing a power pole, forming a nice screen to hide the car. He nosed the Jaguar forward until the hood was just touching the honeysuckle, then got out, checking in both directions. The road wasn’t visible in either direction, so that meant the car wasn’t visible from the road. He felt like an idiot, but he hoped Faith appreciated the concern for her reputation.

He went to the kitchen door and rapped on it, waiting impatiently. She didn’t open it, and he knocked again. “Faith, open the door.”

Faith halted on the other side of the door, her hand hovering at the curtain. She had just been about to twitch it aside and see who was pounding on her kitchen door. She had almost jumped out of her skin at the sounds of a car pulling into her driveway and behind the house. She was relieved that it was Gray, but of all the people she didn’t think she could face right now, he headed the list.

“Go away,” she said.

The doorknob rattled. “Faith.” Her name was spoken softly, calmly. “Open the door, baby.”

“Why?”

“We have things to talk over.”

Undoubtedly, but she didn’t want to do it. She wanted to be a coward about the whole thing, and hide until she was over the embarrassment. “Maybe tomorrow,” she hedged.

“Now.” There it was, that gentle, inflexible note that said her door would be kicked open within the next ten seconds if she didn’t open it herself. Helpless and resentful, she unlocked the door.

He stepped inside and immediately turned the lock again, his gaze never leaving her. She had just gotten out of the shower, and hadn’t had time to dress before she heard the car pulling in. She had grabbed her thin robe from the back of the bathroom door, and put it on. There was nothing seductive about the robe; it was plain, white cotton, belted at the waist. But she was acutely aware that, beneath it, she
was damp and bare. She clutched the lapels together over her breasts. “What do you want to talk about?”

An incredibly gentle smile spread over his face as he looked down at her. “Later,” he said, and swept her up in his arms.

•  •  •

Two hours later, they lay sweaty and exhausted amid the tangled sheets on her bed. The noon sun forced its way through the closed slats of the blinds, throwing thin lines of white across the floor. A gentle breeze from the ceiling fan wafted across her bare flesh, raising tiny goose bumps. Her body was so acutely sensitive that she imagined she could feel each fine, downy hair lifting at the slight chill. Her heart was beating in slow, heavy thumps, her veins and arteries pulsing with each beat. Gray lay sprawled on his back, his eyes closed and his chest heaving, while she was curled against his side with her head pillowed on his shoulder.

It was a long time before she felt as if she could move. Her limbs were heavy and limp, utterly boneless. In those two hours he had taken her three times, with as much ferocity as if the time in the courthouse hadn’t happened. And as demanding and immediate as his hunger had been, her response had matched it. She had clung to him, her nails digging into his back, her hips lifting eagerly to meet each thrust, and it seemed as if her fire had only fed his own. She didn’t know how many times she had reached satisfaction; this last time had felt like one long swell that crested, then refused to subside, so that she had been awash in sensation, drunk with pleasure.

As his breathing slowed, Gray stirred beside her and tried to lift his head, only to let it fall back with a groan. “Oh, God. I can’t move.”

“Then don’t,” she muttered, opening her eyes a slit.

A couple of minutes later, he tried again. With a great deal of effort he raised his head and slowly surveyed the tangle of their nude bodies lying amid the wreckage of the bed. His gaze settled on his penis, lying soft on his thighs. “You damn fool,” he barked. “This time,
stay down!”

The whimsy startled her, and she began giggling helplessly.
She buried her face against his shoulder, her entire body shaking.

Gray let his head drop back to the pillow, and cuddled her closer. “Easy for you to laugh,” he grumbled. “The damn thing’s trying to kill me. It never has had much stopping sense, but this is ridiculous. It must think I’m still sixteen.”

“It can’t think,” she pointed out, her giggles increasing.

“You’re telling me. You can reason with something that thinks.” Her giggles escalated even more, and he tickled her in revenge. “Stop laughing,” he ordered, though a smile teased his mouth. “Do you know what it’s like to have a prominent body part that won’t listen to either common sense or orders?”

“Well, no, but I know what it’s like to be in the vicinity of one.”

He chuckled and lazily rubbed his hand across his chest. “Do you know why men name their cocks?”

“No, why?” she asked, trying to stifle her laughter.

“So most of the major decisions in their lives won’t be made by a total stranger.”

They shook with laughter, and Faith grabbed a corner of the sheet to dry her eyes. She had never seen this playful, bawdy side of Gray before, and she was charmed down to her toes.

He heaved himself up on his elbow, holding her head cradled in the crook of his arm as he smiled down at her. “It’s all your fault, anyway,” he told her, smoothing a tangle of dark red hair away from her face. His hand continued in a slow stroke down her throat, over the delicate sweep of her collarbone, to close over her breast.

“Mine?” she asked indignantly.

“Sure.” Gently he cupped her breast, lifting it. He lightly rasped the pad of his thumb over the puffy pink swell of her nipple, and watched in fascination as it immediately puckered and turned red. “Your nipples are like raspberries,” he marveled, and leaned down to take that particular raspberry into his mouth, circling it with his tongue, rolling it back and forth.

Faith quivered in his arms, alarmed by the immediate swell of desire. She didn’t think she could stand it again. “I
can’t,” she moaned, but he noticed that her other nipple had also puckered.

He drew back and admired his work, the red nipple glistening wetly. “That’s good,” he said absently, “because I sure as hell can’t.” Faith’s breasts were pale, with the sheen of satin, and her skin so translucent and fine that the blue tracery of veins seemed just under the surface. They were firm and full and upright, and he couldn’t keep his hands off of them. Hell, he couldn’t keep his hands off of her, period. “Just think how pretty these will be, when they’re full of milk.”