Time Tantrums (13 page)

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Authors: Ginger Simpson

BOOK: Time Tantrums
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Taylor stole back up stairs, reaching the top just as Frank opened his door. The firm set of his jaw hinted he was still annoyed. “Oh, you’re awake.” The flat tone of his voice confirmed it.

Taylor fidgeted beneath his stare. “I got hungry. I went down and had some bread and butter.”

Barefoot, he walked into the hallway and stood in front of her. His unbuttoned shirt revealed a chest well-muscled and tanned. Her eyes rested on the fur-carpeted area between his nipples, then trailed down the thin line of hair that disappeared beyond his waistband. Taylor’s cheeks burned.

 
Stop looking at him like that. He’ll get the wrong idea.

 
She feigned a yawn and stretched her arms over her head. “I’m still tired. I think I’ll go back to bed.”

He stepped into her path. “Wait a minute. We need to talk.”

“Frank, please. What else is there to say? I can’t explain what’s going on and neither can you. I think I’m crazy.”

His warm breath pelted her face.

She tried to go around him, but he grabbed her arm. “You’re not crazy. At least I don’t think so. But I know what you mean. I’m beginning to wonder about my own sanity.” He ran his fingers through his curly, black hair. “Do you have any idea what it’s like for me? I lay in bed across the hall, knowing you’re only a few feet away. My body aches for you, Mariah. I need to hold you.” His beguiling eyes seared her very soul. “Please, just let me hold you. I don’t care what you think your name is.”

Taylor broke eye contact. Not knowing how to respond, she took a deep breath and willed the right words to come. Her skin burned beneath his fingers and her body grew uncomfortably aware of his closeness. Finally, she looked at him and said, “What do you want me to say? Do you want me to lie and tell you I’m Mariah?”

Frank let go of her arm and stared at the floor. “No, I don’t want you to lie to me. I just thought...”

“You thought what?” She knew she shouldn’t ask.

“I thought if I could hold you in my arms, you might come back to me.”

Taylor pondered his words—her rationale impaired by needing intimacy. His nearness, his clean male scent, and the stray lock of hair on his forehead all conspired against logic.

 
What can it hurt? Maybe something will change.
There can’t be anything wrong with just lying in his arms for a while.

“Okay,” she blurted, before her sense of reason returned. “I don’t want to feel this way anymore. I think I need to be held.”

She took his hand, led him into her bedroom and paused to shorten the wick on the lantern.

Reality crept in. She stood with her back to him, in awkward silence, and stared at the bed. He stood so close. His heat, his inhalations… something snapped inside her.

What the hell am I doing? Making a big mistake, that’s what.

The woman inside her argued.

 
No, it’s not a mistake. It’s okay. You’re just going to hold each other.

 
Frank twirled her around and unfastened two buttons on her dress before she jerked away. “What are you doing?”

 
“I didn’t think you’d want to sleep in your dress.”

Her flesh tingled against the roughness of his hands. She dropped her arms to her sides. “You’re right, I don’t.”
 
Despite her words, her mind made a last-ditch effort.

 
Stop, Taylor! Stop it now or...

He fumbled with the last button. Goose bumps rose on her exposed skin. He tugged the top of her dress down to her waist and inched it past her hips. It fell to the floor and lay in a heap around her feet, leaving her shivering in an old-fashioned chemise. He reached and pulled the quilt back so she could get under the covers.

Lying on her side, she nervously clutched the quilt to her chest and watched as he removed his shirt. The veins in his well-muscled biceps bulged ever so slightly when he flexed his fingers to unbuckle his pants. Part of her wanted to admire his naked form but guilt made her close her eyes. His buckle clanked against the floor when he dropped his pants. She opened one eye barely enough to see him clad in a knee-length cotton undergarment—not so different from David’s boxer briefs.

The thought of her husband chilled her. What would he think if he knew?
 
But did he exist?
 
Common sense and intelligence ruled out anything she conjured up in explanation. Right now, she needed passion. She needed to know
she
was real.

Frank blew out the light on the table. The bed dipped beneath his weight.

She shivered, turned over and backed up against him. He draped an arm over her and pulled her close. His skin felt cool next to hers.

A clear image of David’s face flashed in her mind and she froze.
Taylor, what are you thinking? This isn’t right. You should stop!

But Frank’s breath warmed the back of her neck and his arm tightened around her. “Mariah,” he murmured.

Taylor was sick and tired of bickering about names. Somehow, at the moment, it didn’t seem important. “Yes,” she answered softly.

He rolled her over and peered into her eyes. “I need you.”

 
Did he see her or his wife lurking in the depths?
 
She wanted to ask, but he snaked an arm beneath her and pulled her into an embrace. After he tucked her hair behind her ear, he warmed her exposed lobe with a breath. “Just let me hold you.”

 
Her breath hitched in her throat and her toes curled.

She forced herself to relax and mold against him. All thoughts of wrongdoing evaporated from her mind. “Yes, please hold me… hold me tight,” she whispered back.

Frank buried his face in the hollow of her neck. His lips trailed along her collarbone and sent shivers coursing through her. He covered her neck and shoulder with kisses and gently nipped at her flesh.

She wanted more.

With a deaf ear turned to her good conscience, she arched her back and offered him access to her bodice. She trembled as his fingers clumsily tugged at the ribbon of her chemise. With it finally untied, he pulled the material off her shoulder and exposed one breast. He gently kneaded her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. His breathing grew rapid.

His teeth captured her hardened nipple and gently tugged. “Oh, yes… yes,” Taylor moaned. His hand moved to free her other breast.

 
She wove her fingers through his hair and pulled his head closer. His erection pushed hard against her, and she knew she should stop, but couldn’t. She wrapped a leg around his hip and boldly pushed against his maleness.

Stop it. It’s going to be too late. Stop it now.

Suddenly, he rolled her onto her back and rose to his knees above her. She froze in place as he tugged her chemise down around her ankles and finally completely off.

He paused for a moment. His gaze raked the length of her naked body then locked on her face. “Tell me you don’t want me to stop.”
 
His guttural words were more a plea than a statement.

“Don’t stop,” she heard herself whisper. “Please, don’t stop now.”

Frank straddled her. She touched his hardened member, ran her hand up and down the length of it. He groaned low in his throat and leaned forward to again suckle her breast. She encouraged his full erection while he explored her innermost part with his fingers. She writhed beneath him, and spread her legs to allow him full access, craving penetration.

His mouth abandoned her breast and traveled slowly down her body, stopping to lap at her navel with his tongue. When she moaned in ecstasy, he buried his head between her thighs.

His ministrations drove her to frenzy. She held his head against her crotch, encouraging him to continue his feast. His tongue darted in and out, lapping at her pulsing nub until his sensual expertise sent her over the edge. “Yes, Yes, Yes!”

Taylor’s hand reached for his manhood and guided it toward the juncture of her thighs. She pressed his member against her pubic hair, now wet from his oral caresses. Whimpering, she arched her back against him and called out his name. “David, oh David…”
 
She stiffened.

Her faux pas went unnoticed, but her heart filled with remorse. Again, she asked herself why, as she lay limp beneath a man who so dearly loved the woman he believed her to be. Was he right?

“Mariah, my darling Mariah.
Let me love you. Does that feel good? Do you like that?”

She did. Not only liked but needed to be loved. Regardless of where she belonged, for the moment she was here. She forced thoughts of everything but Frank from her mind. “Yes, oh yes. It feels good... so good, Frank. For tonight, I’ll be your Mariah.”

 

 

 

 

Chapter Sixteen

 

 

Denver, Colorado—2002

 

 

Mariah had the potatoes and carrots chopped and ready when David returned. He handed her a package wrapped in white paper. She placed it on the counter, opened it and found the most beautiful piece of meat inside. She turned and smiled. “This should cook up very nicely. It’ll take a few hours so I hope you work up an appetite between now and then. I’m going to show you what a good cook can really do.”

“Oh really?”
He raised a brow. “Based on previous experience, I have serious doubts. Up until now you haven’t been at all interested in cooking.”

“You certainly can’t be talking about me. I’ve always loved to cook and I’m good at it.”

“I suppose I should be thankful for your newfound culinary interests, but until I sample dinner, I’ll just be thankful we have canned soup in the cupboard.”

She crossed her arms and scowled. “We won’t
be needing
that. Just you wait; you’ll sing a different tune when supper is ready.”

He grinned. “Okay, I’ll go warm up my vocal cords while I watch some TV. Call me when it’s time to eat.”

Mariah chuckled. “A few days ago, I didn’t even know what a TV was
.”

 

* * * *

 

Mariah gave David’s shoulder a gentle shake. He awoke with a start. “I... I didn’t realize I had dozed off.” He took a deep breath. “What is that tantalizing aroma?”

“Dinner,” she said smugly and walked back into the kitchen.

She stood at the counter dishing up the pot roast when arms snaked around her waist and David nuzzled her neck. “Smells wonderful, baby,” he purred.

Mariah gasped, and quickly turned and pushed him away with her free hand. Holding the carving knife in the other, she glared at him.

David held both hands up in the air. “Whoa! I’m sorry. It’s a habit. I’m sorry if I offended you.”

She lowered the knife and sighed. “I don’t feel offended. You startled me. I know you believe I’m Taylor, but in my mind, I’m not! You’re not Frank and he’s the only man who can touch me in such a personal way.”

David nodded. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again—at least until you’re ready.”

“And, what makes you think I’ll ever be ready?” She glared at him, unable to fathom he still didn’t believe her.

“Oh, c’mon, Taylor.
Eventually, you’re bound to remember who you are. I need to give you time and I’m willing to do that. So don’t worry about me forcing myself on you.”

Mariah took a deep breath. “Thank you. I truly hope that some of this starts to make sense very soon. But you may well be the one in for a shock.”

David plucked a piece of meat from the plate and tasted it. He licked his fingers and cast a boyish grin. “Well, I never would have gotten so personal if you hadn’t fixed such a delicious roast.”

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