Sawyer, Meryl (32 page)

She could destroy him in a second if she realized how much power
she had over him. He'd be damned before he'd let her find out. He'd been down
that course once. What had it gotten him?

Get you out of my system.
Those words changed Royce's
mind. Why fight him? Denying she wanted him was futile. And getting harder each
day. Admit it, Royce, at least be honest with yourself. You're obsessed with
him. Mitch knew what a devastating effect he had on her and exploited it
ruthlessly.

Making love to him might be for the best. She desperately needed
to get him out of her system too. It would ease the sexual tension between
them, Royce decided.

If they'd made love five years ago, it wouldn't have been an issue
now. But frustrated desire often intensified—fueled by the imagination. Reality
always destroyed these illusions.

Royce shivered and reached for Mitch, but he backed away, quickly unbuttoning
his shirt. His eyes traveled down her flushed breasts, across the peaked
nipples, then moved lower to the crown of curls between her thighs. Finally, he
gazed at her legs, inspecting every inch right down to her toes, which were
curled into the plush grass beneath her bare feet. She didn't remember kicking
off her sandals, but she must have.

He tossed his shirt into the air, and it landed on the grass at
the base of the tree. Mitch's eyes were tracking along her thighs while Royce
watched his fingers on his belt buckle and the noticeable bulge below it. He
yanked the belt free.

Royce tried to swallow as he jerked open his trousers, but
couldn't. How many dreams had she had about him? How many times had she
imagined him naked?

Nothing compared to reality. His shoulders were more powerful, the
funnel of hair on his chest was denser, darker. Her eyes were drawn lower
across his taut belly to the nest of hair cradling the proudest erection she'd
ever imagined.

"See something you like, Royce?" He took a step forward
and nudged her down onto the cool grass, the scent of the damp earth and
night-blooming jasmine filling her nostrils.

He loomed over her, mysterious, menacing. Huge. And everything she
ever wanted in a man. His eyes never left hers as he joined her on the ground.
He angled himself across her, gradually letting her absorb his weight. His
arousal nestled against her thigh, hot and shockingly hard.

With the pads of his fingers he explored the soft curve where her
breasts rested against her rib cage. She sucked in her breath and held it. Why
hadn't someone told her how sensitive that area was?

A shudder stirred deep within her, heightened by his lips purling
over her breasts, leaving a damp, hot trail. With the point of his tongue he
teased the sensitive nipple and drew it into the moist heat of his mouth with a
touch of suction. The sensation was so utterly arousing, she dug her nails into
his back.

"Oh, Mitch."

He blew across the taut bud. She felt the cool puff of air deep
inside her body. She grabbed his head in a futile attempt to coax him to
continue kissing her breasts. Instead he guided his shaft into the moistness
between her thighs, homing in on her most sensitive area.

"When I kiss you here's where you feel it, don't you,
Royce?"

The tip of his sex nuzzled her. Once. Twice. It was the most
intimate, the most seductive caress she'd ever experienced. There was no way
she could have responded, she was concentrating on not begging him for more.

"Answer me."

"Yes," she whispered, and then squeezed her eyes shut.
Any second she was going to explode. Criminy, would that be embarrassing.

He'd obviously given up his amateur status years ago and knew how
to arouse a woman like a consummate professional. Why was she surprised?
Everything Mitch did, he did exceptionally well.

She opened her eyes when she felt the weight of his body leave
hers. He grabbed his trousers, which were in a heap nearby, and fumbled in the
pocket. It took a second for her to realize he had a condom in his hand.

"You bastard. You had this planned all along, didn't
you?"

"Damn straight." His voice was husky and his eyes swept
up her bare legs, lingering at the crest of her thighs, then moving upward more
slowly across her breasts. Finally, his gaze met hers. "Tonight was the
night, Royce."

What could she say? Tonight was the night. Somehow she'd sensed it
from the moment she'd looked up and seen him standing at the kitchen door.
Still, it irritated her that he'd known it all along—and planned for it.

"Sweet cheeks, you're damn lucky I didn't haul you into the
storeroom at the club and take you—standing up—right there." He caught the
edge of the wrapper between his teeth. A shaft of light from the moon glinted
off the foil as he ripped it open.

"Hell, I even considered pulling the car into some dark alley
on the way home."

She tried to joke. "The Viper's too small to—"

"The hood's perfect."

She gasped in utter astonishment, realizing he wasn't joking. He
was completely serious. He would have taken her— anywhere—tonight. She'd known
he desired her, but the undertone of passion in his voice frightened her. She
was totally out of her league here.

He handed the unwrapped condom to her. "You do the
honors."

Royce scooted to an upright position. She was eye level with his
navel and a very intimidating erection, which she managed to ignore. Just below
his belly button was an area of smooth skin the size of a half dollar. Beneath
it a thin strip of hair unfurled into a dense thicket surrounding his sex.

She brushed his erection aside, not knowing what possessed her,
and kissed the bare spot. She flicked her tongue over the smooth area, savoring
the baby-soft skin and the thoroughly arousing intimacy of kissing him in a
secret place no one else knew about.

How long had she wanted to taste him, really taste him? Years. His
skin had a trace of salt and smelled erotically masculine. Mitch. This was
truly Mitch.

Aw, hell. Mitch wound his fingers through her hair, sucking in a
steadying breath. Her golden curls tickled his cock and brushed against his
thighs as her lips caressed his belly, her tongue tracing a lazy circle.

A-mazing! He expelled his breath in a sigh that rippled through
his body like a shudder.

How had Royce zeroed in that area on the first try? The smooth
skin beneath his navel had always been extremely sensitive. Other women had
touched him there—accidentally. Not Royce, she'd homed in on the spot
immediately. Face it, buddy. She has your number.

She moved lower, her soft lips teasing him mercilessly, nibbling a
little, tracing seductive circles with the moist tip of her tongue. Her hand
cupped his balls, testing their weight. He sucked in his breath and shifted
restlessly, as her inquisitive fingertips discovered the sensitive spot at the
base.

He knew what she was going to do, but he couldn't let her. He'd
loose it before he was even inside her. Gritting his teeth, determined to
remain in control, Mitch snatched the condom from her hand and put it on with
one quick stroke.

He eased her onto her back and nudged her legs apart, positioning
himself between her thighs. His gaze locked with hers, he guided himself into
her. She was wet, more than ready, but unexpectedly tight. She shuddered,
clutching his bare shoulders, her nails digging into his skin.

"Easy, angel, easy," he soothed, pushing his thick shaft
deeper.

She writhed beneath him, moaning slightly and raking her nails
across his back, unable to completely accept his girth. Mitch pulled back, then
slowly, excruciatingly slowly, edged forward again, squeezing deeper and
deeper, his body quaking with pleasure.

Had he ever been quite this aroused, this close to a climax
without being completely inside a woman?

He pulled back again, feeling her body grow even more moist, more
accepting. Close to an orgasm, he surged forward and buried himself to the
hilt. He wasn't sure if he gasped with pure pleasure, or she did. Hell, maybe
they both did.

Fighting to control himself, he drew back, edging out of her until
only the tip of his shaft was still inside. Then he lunged forward again, using
more power than necessary— just to experience the overwhelming thrill of
possessing her, making her undeniably his.

She lifted her hips to meet him, her silky legs wrapped around
him. Welcoming him. She tucked her head into the curve of his neck, her breath
moist and hot and unbelievably erotic against his bare skin.

He lowered his lips to hers and thrust his tongue deep inside her
mouth in a kiss as hot and carnal as his possession of her body. Her heart
throbbed in her ears and she couldn't quite catch her breath.

For a moment the force of his embrace, its overwhelming power,
frightened her. It seemed to come from some deep, hidden part of him that she
had never imagined existed. The experience was utterly sensual, almost
primitive, suggesting that nothing but complete surrender would satisfy him.

She'd never dreamed anyone would make love to her with such
all-consuming passion. She braced herself and welcomed the powerful thrusts,
her face now buried against the curve of his neck, her arms wrapped around his
shoulders. Each jolt swept her a little farther, a little deeper into a new
world. His world. Each surge brought a heightened sense of... belonging to
someone else.

Suddenly, he went rigid in her arms and threw his head back,
breathing from between parted lips, his teeth clenched. He lunged forward one
final time. Hard. Deep. Totally satisfying. His release racked through her body
with erotic power and something snapped inside her, tearing her from everything
she'd ever known—except him.

Seconds later he collapsed on top of her, his head nuzzling the
crook of her neck, his breath hot and harsh against her skin. She loved his
weight, the uncompromising possession of her body, his sex still embedded so
deep that they were one.

She stroked the back of his neck and found raised welts. Had she
done that? Obviously. It didn't really surprise her. No one had ever made love
to her with such abandon.

She reveled in these strange new sensations. She'd been lost, but
now she was found, discovered. She couldn't worry about the past or the future.
For now, for this night, there was only the blissful present.

It took a, few minutes for their breathing to approach normal as
they lay cradled in each other's arms. Mitch raised himself up, bracing his
weight on his forearms. He flashed her the cockiest grin she'd ever seen.

A blast of hot sunlight awoke Royce and she groggily opened her
eyes. The digital alarm clock read almost noon. She sat bolt upright,
remembering she was in Mitch's bed. Last night hadn't been another erotic
dream; it had really happened. She'd made love to Mitch over and over and over.

What had possessed her to act so wantonly? She sank back to the
pillow, thankful that Mitch must have left hours ago to take Jason to camp. At
least she didn't have to face him yet.

What must he think? Had she really done all those things? Royce,
face it. You loved every minute. So true. Despite instincts that warned her
against Mitch, he'd fulfilled every fantasy—and some she'd never known existed.

She rolled over and buried her face in his pillow. Breathing
deeply she inhaled his scent, conceding she'd made love to Mitch because she'd
wanted him for years. She hated admitting she was so weak, but there was no
denying it. She'd disappointed herself, and she couldn't even think about her
father. But her regrets didn't change anything!

She hugged the pillow and wished it were Mitch. How did he feel
about last night? Had he gotten her out of his system?
The cocky jerk had
dared to mock her. I love the way you hate me.

He could be a real bastard when he wanted, but she thought he was
teasing. He'd kept after her all night, not giving her a chance to leave him.
He cared about her, didn't he? She wasn't positive; you never knew exactly what
Mitch was thinking.

She wandered through his house, hoping to find a note. Nothing.
Dream on, Royce. Mitch isn't the romantic type. The most she could expect was a
telephone call, she thought, remembering he was going to drive Jason to camp,
then go to L.A. for a case.

She returned to the garage apartment with Jenny at her heels. The
portable phone on the coffee table was ringing, and she answered. It wasn't
Mitch; it was Val. Like Talia, she called her each day, usually in the evening.

"Is everything okay? I tried to get you last night."

"I went for a walk." Royce hated lying, but she could
hardly say she'd let Mitch seduce her and spent the night with him.

"You sound upset."

Royce slumped down on the sofa. She tried to picture Val with her
deep auburn hair and serious eyes, but couldn't. Somehow she kept seeing a
lonely young girl tagging along after Royce. "I'm okay. A little lonely,
that's all."