Unguarded (14 page)

“Hey there.” His smile was slow and sweet and so hot her stomach clenched at the sight of it.

“Hey yourself.” She went into his arms with a grin of her own, pressed her face to the side of his neck and breathed in the dark sandalwood scent of him. He smelled so good that she stood there for a second, rubbing her nose back and forth against his skin as she took him deep inside her.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his tone amused.

“Sniffing you. You smell fantastic.”

He laughed. “You smell pretty great yourself.”

He started to step back, but she clung to him, her fingers wrapping around the hard muscles of his biceps as she pressed her body against his.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, tilting her head up so he could look in her eyes.

“I'm fabulous,” she answered, and was shocked to realize that it was true. Much of her nervousness had dissipated upon seeing him and now all she felt was the happiness, the comfort, that came from being around him. “I just want to hold you for a minute. Is that okay?”

“It's better than okay.” He squeezed her to him, rubbed his cheek against the top of her head.

She pulled back, looked him in the eyes. “Kiss me, Shawn.”

“My pleasure, sweetheart.”

With a grin, he lowered his mouth to hers, brushed his lips over hers, once, twice. But that wasn't the kind of kiss she wanted from him, not now when her body
was on fire with the need to feel his bare skin against her own.

Sliding her hands up his neck, she tangled them in his hair and tugged him closer, until his mouth was pressed against hers. He tasted like sun-warmed forests and rich, exotic tea and she wanted more. Needed more. Opening her mouth, she deepened the kiss, sweeping her tongue over his lips before playing with the little indention in the middle of his bottom lip.

His mouth was soft and sweet and patient, so she took her time and explored every part of him, from his wicked, wild tongue to the recesses of his mouth. And when she finally let him go, every muscle in his body was rock-hard with desire and his eyes were nearly black, his pupils dilated wide. “Well, that was one hell of a hello kiss,” he said, running a hand over his now swollen mouth.

She gave him the look she'd spent the better part of an hour perfecting in front of her vanity table mirror. “That was only the beginning.”

S
HAWN WASN'T SURE WHAT
had gotten into Rhiannon, but he liked it. A lot. Her lush mouth was slicked with a soft pink lip gloss that looked amazing on her and her hair was tousled from where his fingers had run through it. She looked sexy and sweet and smelled absolutely wonderful.

Pulling her deeper into the house, he closed the door behind her and then pressed her back against it. “So, to what do I owe such a warm greeting?”

“I missed you today.”

“Did you?” He leaned down, nibbled his way down her neck to the sexy curve of her shoulder.

“You have no idea. My sister-in-law dragged me shopping and all I could think about was how much more fun I could be having over here, with you.”

His heart warmed at her confession—and it wasn't the only part of his body feeling the heat. She'd only just arrived and already he was so hard he could barely think of anything but stripping her out of her clothes and making love to her.

“Shopping, hmm? Did you buy anything interesting?”

“I did, actually.” She took his hand, slid it under her sweater until his palm cupped her breast. She must have been wearing some kind of demi-bra thing because
only the bottom half of her breast was covered. He flexed his fingers, met warm, resilient flesh and nearly lost control right there.

He jerked, started to pull away, but her hand stroked over his, held him in place and Shawn swore nothing had ever felt so good.

He moved his palm a little, caressed the underside of her breast as his thumbs stroked over the plump upper curve. He wanted to see her, to taste her so badly that he was actually shaking with the need. But he knew how sensitive she was, how wary, and he contented himself with stroking his thumb over her nipple. Once, twice, then again and again as she shuddered and arched into his hand.

“Do you like it?” she asked, breathless.

“I love it,” he growled, his fingers tightening on her before he could stop himself.

Her laugh was low, husky. “I meant the bra.”

“Oh. Did you get a new bra?”

“I did. Wanna see it?”

“I want to see you more.” He lowered his head and claimed her mouth in a kiss that showed her just a little of the pent-up passion he had inside of him, the need for her that had been eating him alive for weeks now.

“And I want to see you.” She ran her free hand down his jaw, stroked her fingers over his lips for one long, charged second. Arched her back so that her nipple was a hard bud against his palm.

“Geez, Rhiannon. What are you doing to me?” he groaned as his knees actually trembled, something that had never happened to him before.

She licked her strawberry-tinted lips, smiled a wicked, wonderful smile that had heat shooting straight
to his erection and whispered, “Trying to seduce you. Is it working?”

He pressed his lower hips against hers, let her feel how hard she made him. “Do you even have to ask?”

“Then take me.”

“Are you sure? Because I don't want to rush—”

She stopped him with her hand against his lips. “I don't want to talk about it. I just want you to make love to me.”

The first alarm bells went off in the back of his head, but since most of the blood in his brain had moved about three and a half feet south, he didn't pay much attention to them. Couldn't pay attention to them, not when everything he had—everything he was—was focused on Rhiannon.

She ducked out from under his arm and started walking slowly backward across his entryway. Her eyes never left his as she crooked her finger in a blatant invitation, one he had absolutely no intention of turning down.

“Where's your bedroom?” She toyed with the small, pearl buttons on the front of her sweater.

“Down that hall.” He couldn't take his eyes from her, not when she was suddenly the incarnation of every fantasy he'd ever had. He didn't know what had changed her mind, what had made her decide that she wanted him enough to take him, and at that moment he didn't care. All that mattered was being with her in any and every way that he could.

She turned toward his bedroom and he followed her, admiring the subtle sway of her nicely rounded rear end as she moved down the hall. He couldn't wait
to peel her jeans off her, couldn't wait to fill his hands with her as he thrust deep inside her.

Images danced through his brain, and as they entered his darkened bedroom he reached for the light switch, needing to see her with a hunger that bordered on obsession.

“Don't,” she murmured, stopping him by placing her long, cool fingers over his.

“I want to see you,” he said, grabbing the belt loop of her jeans and pulling her flush against him. “I've dreamed about what you looked like for so long.”

“Next time.”

The alarm bells were getting louder, despite his arousal, and this time he tried to talk to her. “Rhiannon, are you sure you're ready for this? We can wait—”

Her hands came up between them, her palms against his chest, and she pushed him, hard. Caught off balance, he tumbled sideways onto the bed and then she was crawling over him, straddling him. Any thoughts he had about anything went right out of his head as she peeled his T-shirt over his head.

“Does this feel like I want to wait?” she asked, running her hands all over his naked torso.

“No.” He barely choked the word out.

“Exactly.” She leaned down, took his nipple in her mouth and he almost shot straight off the bed.

“Easy, baby,” he murmured, as she circled him with her tongue, sending shards of pleasure shooting through him at an alarming rate. “Slow down or this will be over before it starts.”

“What if I don't want to slow down?” She trailed her lips over his chest, then licked her way down the rigid plane of his abdomen. She paused at his navel, circling
it with her tongue again and again before moving lower and pressing kisses along the line of his jeans. “I've waited just as long for you as you have for me, you know.”

Her words shot through him, eliminating his resistance and making him throb with the need to be inside her.

“Do whatever you want,” he groaned. “But do it fast or I'm going to—”

The pop of his jeans button opening echoed through the room, had him holding his breath as he waited to see what Rhiannon was going to do next. Hell, he couldn't believe what she'd already done. Where was the shy woman from whom he'd had to coax a response? The woman who had run away the first time he'd kissed her?

He liked this new Rhiannon, this temptress who seduced instead of being seduced, but at the same time, he didn't understand where she'd come from, didn't understand why she was doing what she was doing.

But then she lowered his zipper and any thoughts he'd managed to hang on to flew right out of his head, until the only thing he was aware of was the blinding need for completion.

She pulled his jeans down his legs, lingering in numerous places to kiss and lick and touch until he was sure he would go out of his mind.

His hands found hers in the darkness and he murmured, “Stop, please. I want to touch you, too.”

“Next time,” she whispered, again.

He jackknifed into a sitting position, did his best to ignore the throbbing arousal that was making each breath agony. “What do you mean, next time? I want
to make love to you, Rhiannon, not be some boy toy for you to play with!”

Her laugh was low and husky and so close to his erection that her exhalations caressed him like a thousand tiny fingers. “My boy toy?” she whispered. “Is that what you are?”

Her lips closed over him before he could answer, and then he couldn't answer, couldn't think. Couldn't do anything but savor her as she made love to him with her mouth.

He looked down the length of his body, tried to make out her face in the dim light, strained to see the crazy mixed-up colors of her hair, but it was too dark and all he could do was feel.

Feel as she slid her lips up and down his length. Feel as her tongue swirled around him again and again. Feel as her cool fingers cupped him between his legs. “Rhiannon, please.”

“Please what?” she whispered before taking all of him into her mouth again.

“Stop. I'm close, baby. Too close. I want to be inside you when it happens, want to feel you and kiss you the way you've done to me.”

She murmured a sound that could have been an assent, but then she didn't stop. Instead, she just kept turning him inside out, one slow lick at a time.

 

S
HAWN'S WORDS SHOT
through Rhiannon, turning her on even more than she already was. She could do this, she told herself, more relieved than she could have believed possible. She
was
doing this—making love to Shawn like she'd fantasized about and he was enjoying it.

Anxiety was still a fist in her stomach, but even that had gotten better, evened out some as she concentrated on touching Shawn and his beautiful, beautiful body. She wanted to see him, wished she could risk turning the light on so she could see all the flat planes and hollows she was learning by touch. But she knew, eventually, she'd have to take her clothes off and she still couldn't stand the idea of Shawn seeing her scars.

Maybe she had no business making love to him if she wasn't able to open herself completely to him, but no one had said she had to give him everything all at once. She couldn't. Right now, the fact that she was here, touching him and not freaking out, would have to be enough—for both of them.

Closing her eyes, she concentrated on bringing him as much pleasure as she could. She wanted him to enjoy this,
needed
him to enjoy it. Needed to know that she was capable of bringing him pleasure, no matter how messed up she was inside.

“Rhiannon.” His voice was a husky plea and she reveled in it, pouring everything she had into bringing him more and more pleasure. She moaned low in her throat, smiling inwardly as he almost came off the bed, then reached up and scraped her nails down his abdomen—not hard enough to leave a mark, just enough to ratchet the pleasure up another notch.

“Baby, come on, stop. I'm too close.”

She wanted him close, wanted to take him all the way with her mouth and her hands because she wasn't sure she was ready to take him into her body yet. There was still too much pain associated with the act in her mind, still too many bad memories for her to relish the act of lovemaking itself. But being in control as she
brought Shawn pleasure, what was there not to like about that?

“Rhiannon.” It was a command and a plea, an order and a suggestion and she ignored them all—until Shawn's fingers tightened in her hair.

Panic skated through her, ice-cold and razor-sharp. “What are you doing?” she whispered frantically, trying to get back to the warm, pleasurable place she'd been only moments before.

His hands went to her ribcage and he lifted her off him, rolling in one smooth motion until she was beneath him and he was between her legs, his erection pressing against the soft denim of her blue jeans.

“My turn,” he said, his mouth skimming down her neck to her shoulder.

Little shoots of pleasure worked their way through her, warred with the fear slowly invading her veins. It was going to be okay, she told herself. This was Shawn. He wouldn't hurt her, wouldn't do anything she didn't want.

She repeated the words to herself as he slowly divested her of her bra and sweater, turned them into a mantra as he slid her jeans and panties down her legs. She could do this, she could do this, she could do this.

“Hey, are you okay?” Shawn asked, and she knew he was straining to see her through the darkness.

“I'm great.” She ran a hand over his shoulders to reassure him, squeezed the strong muscles of his back as he leaned in to kiss her.

His mouth was hard on hers, demanding, and she tried to lose herself to the desire she could feel emanating from him in waves. Sliding her hands up his back to
his head, it was her turn to tangle her hands in his hair and tug until he reluctantly relinquished her mouth.

She gasped for breath, tried to focus, tried to stay in the present despite the memories ripping through her. Memories of another man with a hard mouth and well-developed muscles.

Shawn braced his arms on either side of her, caging her in, trapping her. Dread welled up inside of her, took her over, but she tried to fight it. This was Shawn, she told herself over the thundering in her ears. This was Shawn, she tried to remember as her blood raced with remembered horror. This was Shawn, this was Shawn, this was Shawn. Again and again, she reminded herself who was above her, kissing her, touching her, loving her.

But when he settled between her legs, his erection nudging at the very heart of her, alarm slammed through her in a frenzied rush. She started to scream, her fists and feet and body flailing against him as hysteria set in.