The Last Groom on Earth (9 page)

She clenched her hands in Bryce’s hair, moaning his name. His response was to suckle more deeply, sending a shudder of desire through her. His hand sought out her other breast, pushing down the cloth that covered it, and he squeezed it gently, rolling the nipple between his forefinger and thumb.

“Sweet mercy,” he said in a choked voice, raising his head and gazing into her eyes. “I want to take you right here.”

Angela shivered. His hand was still unconsciously caressing her breast, evoking tremors of desire in her. “What if I said yes?”

His nostrils widened fractionally, and something wild and hungry flared in his eyes. In answer, his hand went to the zipper in the back of her costume and began to pull it down. Angela stared into his eyes in fascination; this was an entirely different man from the one she had always known. This was no creature of reason, no cautious, practical, sober man. No, this was a man of passion now, impatient and unthinking, drunk on the wine of his own desire.

“Bryce,” she whispered, a wealth of yearning in her voice.

Her loosened gown slid down off her shoulders, but Angela caught it, holding it up with one hand, a final remnant of sanity stopping her. “No, wait. Not here.”

She glanced back toward the house, and Bryce followed her gaze. He groaned, but nodded. She was right. There were too many people not far away, too great a chance of discovery. Besides, the hard ground was hardly a fit place to make love with Angela for the first time.

“Then where?” he rasped, thinking with dismay of the long drive back to her condominium.

Angela stood up, her mind racing through the possibilities. She turned her back to him to rezip her dress. Instead he slipped his hands beneath the cloth, caressing her, and began to kiss his way up the line of her backbone.

She jumped at the first searing touch of his lips, uttering a startled little, “Oh!”

He murmured a soothing response against her skin, his hands busily at work.

“Bryce! Stop it! I’m trying to think!”

“I’m not stopping you.” His tongue trailed up several vertebrae.

Angela made a choked noise. Her mind whirled. She thought that no one was likely to come up here for the next few minutes.

One of his hands slipped down, delving beneath her petticoats, and found the moist center of her desire. Bryce groaned, and his teeth nipped lightly at her back.

“I can’t wait,” he rasped. “I have to have you now.”

He pulled his hands away, and Angela protested weakly, shocked at the loss. But then his hands went beneath her skirts, sliding caressingly up her legs and over her hips. He grasped her panties and pulled them down and off. With his hands on her hips, he turned her around to face him, and Angela moved docilely, too flooded with desire and excitement to do anything else. Bryce’s face was slack with desire, his silvery eyes glittering in the moonlight. The fierce hunger on his face completed her undoing. Angela moved her hand away from her dress, letting the bodice fall. Her nipples puckered even more as the night breeze touched them. Bryce’s eyes moved avidly over her, then he pulled her closer. His tongue circled each nipple teasingly, until they were engorged and throbbing and Angela’s breath was almost a sob. Then he took one nipple fully into his mouth, sucking deeply.

A deep throb of desire surged through her abdomen, and Angela moved her legs restlessly. As if in answer to her unspoken wish, Bryce slid his hands up beneath her heavy skirt. He caressed her legs and buttocks, and all the while his mouth worked wonders
upon her breasts. Angela was reeling with sensations, the pulse between her legs growing more and more insistent. Then his hand was there, sliding up the inside of her thigh until it came to rest upon the heated center of her being.

She moaned and twined her hands through Bryce’s hair, clenching them as the heat swelled within her. Gently his fingers explored the slick, satiny folds, stroking her with fire until she was almost wild.

Then his hands were gone, and she gasped, frustrated and aching. “No! Please…”

She looked down at him. His face was flushed with passion, his eyes bright and wild. “Sit,” he told her hoarsely, putting his hands on her hips and pulling her down upon him.

For a dazed instant, Angela gazed at him blankly, but then understanding dawned upon her. Lifting her skirts, she knelt on the bench, her legs on either side of his and sank slowly down onto his lap. His manhood was thick and firm, prodding deliciously at her soft femininity. His hand moved beneath her skirts and then he was sliding into her. Angela arched her head back and gripped Bryce’s shoulders with her hands, easing down slowly, enjoying every frisson of pleasure as he filled her, until finally she was seated flush against him.

He groaned out her name, and his hands moved restlessly over her back. Experimentally Angela wriggled, and he gasped, burying his face in her shoulder. His fingers dug into her hips, urging her to movement. Slowly she began to move up and down, encouraged by the fevered words that fell from his lips. Her hips began to churn faster and faster, driven by the growing urgency within her. A fire coiled and
tightened within her, and suddenly it burst gloriously into flames, consuming her. Bryce cried out hoarsely, muffling his cry against her skin, and she felt him buck beneath her, and for a single moment they were lost together in a white-hot explosion of desire.

Angela clung to Bryce in the aftermath of her explosive pleasure, her head nestled on his shoulder. She smiled to herself, remembering her words to Kelly only the week before. No, Bryce definitely did not have sex wearing starched, ironed pajamas.

“A
re you sure there’s anything up here?” came the high-pitched, peevish voice of a woman, startling Angela and Bryce from their blissful inertia.

As a man’s low voice mumbled something in reply, Angela’s head snapped up from where she had been resting, exhausted and sated, upon Bryce’s shoulder, and she looked down into his face, her mouth an
O
of horror. He stared back at her with the same expression of astonishment and dismay. Then their moment of mutual paralysis broke, and Angela scrambled off his lap. They took to their heels, awkwardly trying to straighten their clothes as they ran, and ducked behind a thicket of shrubs a short distance from where they had been.

“Did you hear something?” asked the same plaintive voice. Angela and Bryce peered through the
shrubs and saw a harem girl step cautiously into the clearing they had just vacated.

“Don’t be silly, Heather. Nobody’s up here.”

Angela covered her mouth to stifle her giggles. She glanced over at Bryce. His eyes brimmed with the same amusement. He looked utterly relaxed, satisfied, and incredibly handsome. Angela kissed him quickly.

“There! I’m sure I heard something. This place is spooky.”

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake, it’s lovely. All right, all right, we’ll go back down to the party.”

In another moment the couple was gone, and Angela let out a gusty sigh of relief and sank to the ground, still holding her dress up against her bare chest. Bryce sat down beside her, his eyes twinkling.

“The things you get me into,” he scolded teasingly.

“
I
get
you
into?” Angela retorted with mock indignation.

“Absolutely. I would never have done anything this reckless if you weren’t so damn desirable.” He leaned over and kissed her.

“Well,” Angela said, smiling, “if you put it like - that…”

He pulled her into his arms and they lay back on the ground, gazing up at the clear night sky.

“Isn’t it perfect?” Angela sighed.

“Mmm.” Bryce’s voice was laced with amusement. “A bench for a bed. Almost being discovered
en flagrante.
Twigs in your hair.” He reached up and took a tiny twig from the bush that had become entangled in Angela’s wildly tumbling hair.

“Like I said, absolutely perfect.”

“Where’s your hat, by the by?” Bryce asked, idly playing with a lock of her tangled hair.

Angela clapped her hands to her head. “Oh, my gosh, it’s back there somewhere. It’s a wonder that couple didn’t see it.” She began to giggle.

“I think she was too eager to get away to see anything. No doubt she suspected he had some nefarious motive in bringing her up here.”

“Mmm. Like you?”

“Like me,” he agreed equably. “What?” he said at her startled glance. “You think I didn’t know what I was doing? I told you, I’ve thought about you all week, and I realized there was nothing for me to do but surrender.”

“Surrender? As if I’d been trying to catch you!”

“I was hoping you would. Finally it became obvious that I’d have to come to you. You used to be more persistent, you know, when you were younger.”

Angela made a face at him, and be chuckled. “Come on.” He sat up, lifting her with him. “Turn around and I’ll zip you up.”

He followed his words with action, adding a kiss on her nape when he had finished.

“Thank you.” Angela felt suddenly, strangely, shy with him, as if, encased once again in her costume, she was now a stranger.

“My pleasure.”

Angela smiled at him with a trace of awkwardness. “I must look a mess.”

“You look beautiful,” he assured her softly as his hand stroked her hair. Sensing her mood, he pulled her into his arms and cuddled her, his cheek resting against her hair. Angela relaxed with a sigh and snuggled into his chest, her arms going around his waist.

“Is there any way we can sneak out of here?” he asked finally. “I want to be alone with you.”

Angela pulled away and smiled at him. Her face was radiant, and she looked to him even more breathtak-ingly lovely. “Of course. I’m a master at sneaking out.”

Bryce retrieved her snood from where it lay in front of the bench, slightly trampled, and Angela took him by the hand and led him through the trees to another path that went down the hill, skirting Tim’s house. The trail wound its way through trees, bushes, and clearings, sometimes almost indiscernible even in the full moonlight. Bryce strolled amiably along, holding Angela’s hand, less concerned with the prospect of getting lost than with the strange, wonderful feeling that had taken hold of him. He felt marvelously relaxed and content—almost giddy, in fact, and it seemed to him at that moment not at all unusual to be creeping away from a party along a dirt track through the trees, dressed in full costume, having just made love in a secluded copse of trees.

He doubted that he had ever done anything quite as impulsive, but it seemed only right, somehow, with Angela. Not that the idea of making love to her in a traditional way didn’t have its appeal; it was a prospect he was contemplating with considerable interest at the moment. He glanced over at Angela. The moonlight silvered her fair skin and darkened the fire of her tumbled hair. Her lips were full and soft, with the faintly bruised look of a mouth that had been kissed recently and thoroughly. Just looking at her mouth brought the heat of desire darting through his loins again. He thought of her hair spread out across his pillow, a tangle of blazing curls, of her body, white
and naked beneath his. Yes, the idea of having the time and the leisure to explore every aspect of making love to Angela was sounding more attractive every second.

Bryce pulled her to a stop, and Angela glanced at him inquiringly. He pulled her close and kissed her, tasting the sweetness of her lips as if he’d never known it before. Angela pressed eagerly into him.

Finally he lifted his face, though his body was still as close as a heartbeat to hers. “Are you sure we’re going the right way?” he asked a little breathlessly, brushing a lock of hair from her face with caressing fingers.

“Yes.” Angela smiled. “I’m positive. Don’t trust me, huh?”

“It’s not that. It’s just that…I’d like very much to get back to your apartment.”

Angela’s smile deepened sensually. “Don’t worry. We will. I’d like to get back there, too.”

They started off again, plunging into a mass of dark trees, but, amazingly, when they came through the thicket, there on the other side were rows of parked cars. They were at the bottom of Tim’s lot, where they had parked. Within minutes, they were in Bryce’s car and on their way back to Angela’s condominium. They held hands as he drove, and Angela noticed that Bryce’s driving was even swifter this time than it had been coming over.

When they reached her complex, they almost ran up the stairs and arrived breathless and panting at her doorstep. With fingers that shook, Angela fitted her key into the door, hoping that this would not be one of those nights when Jim stuck his head out of the next
door, calling her in for a cup of chamomile tea and a chat.

The condo next door remained blessedly dark and quiet, and in a moment, Angela had the door open and they were inside.

They made their way through her home to the bedroom in back, pausing to kiss and caress or to slip a garment off. They left a trail behind them of discarded shoes, jacket, dress and petticoats as they went from living room to Angela’s bedroom. They paused to kiss and cling to each other, only to break away to take off another garment, then returned to the embrace, so that it took a long time to reach their destination. But finally they tumbled onto the bed, naked and entwined.

Somewhat sated by their earlier lovemaking, they did not rush to completion this time, but made love slowly, lingeringly, giving their time to the sweet enjoyment of every movement, every expression, every inch of their lover’s flesh. They kissed and caressed, murmuring endearments and soft words of delight, until the passion rose in them so fiercely that they could not hold back. Caught up in the hungry rush of desire, they moved together, clinging frantically, until at last pleasure exploded within them, even sweeter and more intense than it had been the first time.

They relaxed, still holding each other, and Bryce reached back and grabbed a handful of the comforter, which lay atop Angela’s bed and pulled it around them to ward off the chill of the air against their damp bodies. Cocooned in its warmth, nestled snugly together, they drifted into sleep.

The familiar strains of the Concordia theme awakened Angela. She opened her eyes, blinking sleepily, disoriented for a moment. It struck her that someone was in her house, and for a moment she tensed with fear. Then she remembered that Bryce was here.

He must be playing the Concordia game. It seemed unlikely…but then everything that had happened with Bryce had been a surprise. A slow smile curved Angela’s lips as she remembered the night before. Perhaps Bryce was not the man for her, as she had been telling herself in vain for the past week, but they had made love as if they were perfectly matched. No other man had ever touched her as deeply or as quickly.

Angela sat up, shoving her thick hair back from her face, and pulled her knees up to her chin, wrapping her arms around her jackknifed legs, as if she could hug her happiness to her.
Could she actually be falling in love with Bryce? A
few weeks ago she would have laughed at the idea, but it seemed quite possible now. Even a week ago she had been telling herself all the reasons why it would never work, why she should not give in to her yearnings. But this morning she could not think of a one. She felt happier and lighter, freer, than she had anytime since the IRS had descended upon H & A Enterprises.

After a few moments of blissful reverie, she got up and went into the bathroom to shower. She came back into the bedroom, a terry-cloth robe tied around her and a turbaned towel wrapped around her wet hair. She padded out the door and across the landing to the second bedroom, which served as her office.

The room was crammed full of bookcases, all stuffed with books and game boxes and assorted odds
and ends that she had collected through the years, such as a lopsided pot made for her by one of her nephews in third-grade art class, a breathtaking metal sculpture of an eagle swooping down to seize its prey, and a jumbled collection of calling cards that she had picked up at various trade shows and never taken the time to sort out. Her desk, with its computer equipment, took up most of the wall beneath the window, and it was here that Bryce sat, frowning at the screen.

Angela slipped up behind him and crossed her arms over his chest, bending down to kiss the top of his head. She could feel his body relax beneath her, and he tilted back his head to smile up at her.

“Did I wake you? I’m sorry. I hadn’t realized that this thing had music until I turned it on.” He stretched up and kissed her lightly on the lips.

“It has everything,” Angela replied and kissed him again, more lingeringly. “Anyway, I didn’t mind waking up.”

Bryce slid the chair back from the desk and pulled Angela around the chair and into his lap. “How are you feeling this morning?” he asked, his eyes searching hers. “Do you regret last night?”

“Of course not,” Angela replied indignantly, then added more hesitantly, “Do you?”

“No. I enjoyed every minute of it thoroughly.”

“Good.” Angela smiled and snuggled down against his shoulder. “Me, too. I feel too good to analyze it.”

He released her hair from the towel, brushing the wet strands from her face with his hand. They sat for a moment in silence. Angela thought lazily that it felt wonderful to sit like this with Bryce, cozy and comfortable, yet still charged with an undercurrent of excitement. She knew that if she made any movement
toward him, reached out to caress his arm or to kiss the deep hollow at the base of his throat—both of which tempted her—that they would be back in her bed shortly, making love again. The thought appealed to her, but for the moment, she was content simply to be close to him. There would be plenty of time for lovemaking later.

“What got into you, to come in here and start playing a game?” she asked.

She could feel his shrug beneath her cheek. “I’m not sure,” he said. “I was awake and I thought I’d do some work to pass the time while you slept. I came in here, but all I could find were these games. So I decided to try one, see what they were like. After all, I seem to have taken on a new, impulsive persona lately.” He paused, then said in a softer voice, “I thought I might get some insight into you if I played one.”

There was a silence, and finally Angela said, “Well?”

“Well, what? Oh, did I find out anything about you? Not much. Except that I realized that the game was just as frustrating as you are.”

“Well! That’s a nice thing to say!” Angela exclaimed with mock indignation, sitting up and twisting to face him, but her eyes were dancing and her voice was rich with laughter.

“Sorry,” he replied with equally amused insincerity, leaning over to kiss her on the tip of her nose. “I meant to say, intriguing.”

“That’s better.”

“How the hell do you play the damn thing?” he asked, some of his recent exasperation creeping into his voice.

Angela stood up and perched on the narrow arm of the chair, gazing at the screen. “Oh, you’re playing IV, right? The Silver Mountains one?”

“Yes. And all I do is walk, but everywhere I go, some big bird swoops down and eats me or I fall in a swamp or I go by a talking rock and on and on into a forest. There are two trails in it, but I get killed both ways. And if I don’t go into the woods, I wind up going around this college and winding up at the same place as one of the other trails, where I get killed again.”

Angela had to chuckle at his outraged expression. “Did you look at the hints manual?”

“Hints manual? You mean you need a book in order to play this thing?”

“Not necessarily, but it makes it easier. Although we try to make our aid books vague enough that you still have to figure it out.”

“And people do this for enjoyment?”

Angela had to laugh at his skeptical expression. “It’s fun, I promise. You just have to figure out the kind of things you have to do, and once you realize how to think, it gets positively addictive.”