Surprise Package (5 page)

      
“When you put it that way, how could I?” she replied as she melted into his embrace. They fell back on the pillows, hands and mouths caressing, exploring, devouring. Gilly could feel the warmth of his palm glide over her calf and the curve of her hip as he slowly pulled up the silk caftan, revealing her legs and the tiny bit of gold silk that comprised her panties. When his hand gently snapped the elastic, her hips arched reflexively.

      
“It's been so long...” Her words, low and breathless, faded away.

      
“Then we'll go slow,” he murmured against the curve of her shoulder.

      
“But not too slow,” she whispered, unbuttoning his shirt and nuzzling her way through the cunning pattern of hair on his chest.

      
When her tongue circled a hard male nipple, he growled low and his hands glided up to cup her breasts. “Mmm, no bra. I didn't think so.”

      
“I used to be a Girl Scout...I came prepared, too,” she said, pushing her breasts into the exquisite caresses of his fingertips and palms.

      
“Oh, you'll come, all right, over and over if I have my way.”

      
“Do have your way with me, sir,” she whispered, then added with a low chuckle as she began unzipping his fly, “and I'll have mine with you.” He was as big and hard as the fireplace poker, as hot to her touch as the flames. When she pulled his erection from his jeans and began stroking it, he made a fierce sound deep in his throat that thrilled her.

      
If this kept up, he'd lose it before they went much further. Jeff remembered a cardinal rule and focused on it. “Shoes first,” he whispered hoarsely, removing her busy hand. He sat up to pull off his loafers and socks. Then he gathered the soft folds of her caftan and pulled it over her head.

      
She raised her arms as the caftan floated to the carpet behind her, and he studied the slender perfection of her body. The pose emphasized the pert thrust of her breasts. They were not large, but neither were they small, just perfectly proportioned, high and firm, with nipples of palest pink, now crinkled into spiky little points, begging for his mouth.

      
The heat of his breath sent shivers of delight over her as he opened his lips to take one achy nipple, drawing it in delicately for the exquisite ministrations of his tongue. Then, he moved to the other nipple and repeated the process, alternating between them while her fingers massaged his scalp, pulling him closer, arching into the pleasure.

      
“God, you taste sweet,” he murmured, then gasped when her hand once more found his shaft. He let her stroke it several times while he continued suckling and teasing her breasts; then he rolled away and tugged the tight jeans off. He was aware of her eyes fastened avidly on his naked body, could tell she was pleased with how it looked. Women always were...

      
Gilly opened her arms as he moved over her, wrapping them around his back, pulling him closer so their naked flesh pressed full length. Never had she been more aware of how small, slender, and soft she was. His body was hard, the muscles sleek and powerful. She buried her face in the curve where his neck met one broad shoulder and began kissing her way to his jaw. He had shaved very close, for she knew his beard was heavy. By morning there would be a dark stubbly shadow, and that, too, would be sexy as hell.

      
Jeff balanced his weight on his elbows and began kissing her, his tongue plunging and teasing, hers returning the caresses in equal measure. For all her blushes and shyness, she was a hot little thing, deprived of sexual pleasure for a long time. Not that he'd exactly had the time—or inclination—to be Don Juan himself the past few years. This was the time for them...together.

      
He reached back and grabbed the condom from the table, then quickly put it on and returned to her waiting embrace. He slid his palm over the concave surface of her belly, feeling the clenching need deep inside her, then slipped his fingers under the lacy wisp of her panties and cupped her mound. She arched up into his hand, crying out his name. When he began working the fabric over her hips, she raised her bottom and twisted smoothly so the tiny bit of silk slid off in his hand. He raised it to his face and breathed in the sweet musk.

      
“I've soaked them,” Gilly whispered, shocked at her boldness, but it seemed to please him.

      
“Now,” he murmured, positioning himself between her thighs and raising up so he could look at her as he slid slowly inside her body. Her legs went up, wrapping around his hips as she arched her back, waiting for his thrust.

      
“Now,” she repeated.

      
It was heaven. Slick, gliding, undulating heaven. Every nerve in her body screamed with the unbearable sweetness of the pleasure. Never before had it felt so keen, so instantaneous, so effortless as it did with Jeff. This was more than the end of a long abstinence.

      
I'm falling for this guy!

      
The thought came out of nowhere; but before she could examine it further, he began to increase the tempo, and the mounting frenzy of her need drove every thought from her mind. Like a wild woman she clung to him, her nails scoring his back, her thighs squeezing his hips, her back arching to meet each thrust.

      
“Little hellcat,” he rasped, loving her wild, uninhibited response, waiting for what he could sense was fast approaching. She was so small and tight that he could instantly feel her orgasm begin, the hard, rippling contractions wringing from him an answering response. Jeff watched her eyes glaze over, the lashes fluttering down. Her body convulsed, flushing pink as she gave everything to her release.

      
He'd never seen a woman react so strongly, last so long. But his flash of male pride was quickly displaced when a wave of tender possessiveness swept over him.
This could become habit forming, this woman, loving her this way.
Not a thought he was expecting to consider the instant before the climax of his lifetime struck him like a tidal wave.

      
“Ah, Gilly, what have you done to me?”

      
The words were softly slurred into her hair as they lay in a welter of entwined arms and legs. She wasn't sure she'd heard him right or what the words meant.

      
Does he love me, too?

Chapter Four

      
Faint streaks of dim December sunlight climbed across the big rumpled bed where Gilly and Jeff finally ended up sleeping, but not until after they had spent most of the night making love, feeding each other shrimp and caviar, sipping wine before the fire, then rekindling their own flames. Gradually, they had worked their way from the living room into the king-sized water bed, although neither one could have said how they got from one room to the other.

      
Gilly awakened to the gentle motion of water when Jeff rolled over, placed one arm possessively across her breasts, then drifted back into deep slumber. Dreamily, she recalled that last night with him gave a whole new meaning to the term
motion sensitivity
. Jeff
.
She turned her head and studied him as he slept.

      
Thick black lashes veiled his eyes. Their rich brown depths had glowed like coals before the fire last night. What a waste to hide those incredible eyes behind glasses. He probably had to wear them in self-defense—to keep every woman he encountered from tearing off his clothes! She touched the abrasive stubble of heavy black beard on his jaw. Last night, it had been shaven so smooth that he barely left a mark on her inner thighs. She grew taut and wet just remembering the way he had held her buttocks cupped in his hands and proclaimed in that low, sexy voice that the real feast was only beginning. Never before had she experienced such utter abandon with a lover. Never before could she have allowed one to take her that way...or to take him that way.

      
This is it.

      
Charis had told Gilly that the first time she slept with Bill she knew he was the one. Gilly had secretly scoffed at the notion. She wasn't scoffing now. It had just happened to her. And the man who'd made her impossible dreams come true believed she was a high-powered hardcover editor from a wealthy family in small-town America. How could she ever justify her deception? Or tell him the truth?

      
Whoa, Gilly
, she reminded herself. She was putting the cart before the horse. Just because she had gone bonkers over him did not mean that he reciprocated the feelings. Okay, he had said a few things in the heat of passion that could be construed as admissions that he cared. But he never said he was in love with her...in so many words. And even if he had, it had been in the heat of passion. Whew, boy, it had been a blast furnace of passion!

      
She wriggled up in bed and sat with his arm draped casually over her lap. Unable to resist, she let her fingers glide over his hair, thick and night dark, a bit tangled from their earlier exertions. He did look a bit like a book-cover model—not the steroid-pumped type, but just as much a woman's fantasy.
Her
fantasy. Her hand ranged over his shoulder, stroking the sleek muscles as she studied the soft dark hair on his forearm. Without warning, he suddenly rolled over and caught her hand in his, pulling her down on top of him.

      
“Good morning,” he said in a low, sexy growl as his fingers tangled in her hair, bringing her face down to his. Between breathless kisses she returned the greeting, and he asked, “Sleep well?”

      
“You know I did...what little time I actually had to sleep.”

      
“Now she's complaining,” he teased, one hand roaming from her buttocks to the curve of her breast.

      
“I'll give you exactly a day or two to cut that out,” she said, arching into his palm.

      
“Mmm, think I may take a while longer.”

      
He continued the slow, languorous caresses until she was half wild with desire. She straddled his hips, their legs tangled in the badly rumpled covers. She gazed down at him, watching as he continued making love to her breasts, cupping them in his palms, pulling the nipples and rolling them between his thumbs and index fingers. The world was spinning out of control. She placed her hands on his hairy chest, feeling the accelerating thud of his heart. Then, she felt his straining erection brush against the crack of her buttocks.

      
“Think you can hold out longer?” she teased.

      
“Longer than you. Want to bet?” he murmured, seemingly engrossed in the way her nipples crinkled tighter and tighter under his ministrations. He raised his head, pulling her down so he could replace his hand with his mouth.

      
When she scooted back to accommodate him, she also reached down to grasp his stone-hard penis. His groan was muffled against her breast as she centered her body over it, guiding it very slowly inside. She stopped, breathless herself, and whispered, “Want me to stop?”

      
“My sweet little cock-teaser,” he murmured, his hands now sliding over her hips, arranging them to his and her intense satisfaction.

      
When they again lay breathless and exhausted in each other's arms, he said, almost as if to himself, “It's amazing. I can't seem to get enough of you. You make me insatiable, Gilly girl.”

      
“Hmm, I'm a cock-teaser, and you're a satyr. A match made in heaven?” she murmured with a chuckle. “I've never felt this...”
Go easy
, an inner voice cautioned. “This at ease with anyone before. It's comfortable with you—I mean, besides how we fit during sex.”

      
He seemed to consider her words, then nodded. “You're right. And the way we fit during sex is a hell of a lot more than just comfortable, although I'm damned if I know an adjective to do it justice.”

      
They lay in contentment for several more minutes; but suddenly he tensed and pulled away from her, looking over at the bedside clock. “It's nearly noon!”

      
“So? It's Saturday. You can't have classes on a Saturday afternoon, can you?” Gilly sat up, confused.

      
Jeff practically leaped from the bed and stalked naked down the hall, calling over his shoulder, “Not class, a...study session...with several other students. I have to run. I'm really late, Gilly.”

      
By the time she grabbed her robe from the bathroom door and made her way to the living room, he was dressed and slipping on his loafers. He walked over to her and took her in his arms, pressing a kiss on her forehead. “I'm sorry, babe. I'll call you tonight when I get off—er, get finished.”

* * * *

      
Gilly had kept her phone by her side all afternoon and evening, several pencils and two manuscripts also lying beside her on the big sofa. She tried to concentrate on editing, but her heart just wasn't in it. Everything had been going so great...or so she thought. Had she done something to scare him off? She hadn't told him that she loved him or indicated that she expected some sort of commitment. Maybe, she just gave off vibes that told men how she felt. Or, worst-case scenario, maybe now that he'd finally gotten her into bed, she'd lost her allure. Some guys were like that, but Gilly would have bet her life that Jeff Brandt was not one of them.

      
It was nearly ten that night when he called. He sounded beat. Gilly's heart nearly melted with tenderness when she heard his voice. They talked for half an hour, speaking of the kinds of inconsequential things lovers often do. He wanted to return to her place, but he had a big exam coming up on Monday and needed to study. He sounded disappointed. She was, too. But she had two edits to finish by Monday as well. They made a date for Monday night.