“Kyle…oh, please…”
She didn’t seem to know what she was asking for, but Kyle did. He moved between her legs, unable to wait a moment longer. He desperately needed to be inside her. Another second more and he’d go mad. Shifting his weight, he entered her slowly, in degrees, prolonging the pleasure until he was afraid their lovemaking would be over before it started.
Carrie was panting beneath him, her muscles stretching to accommodate his thickness. Slowly, he burrowed deeper and deeper until he was buried to the hilt inside her. He waited a moment before moving, fearing that if he did he’d climax right then.
He withdrew almost the whole way before pushing forward again, testing her moist tightness, which seemed to grip him from all sides. He shuddered with pleasure and she wrapped her legs around his waist. In repositioning her hips, she drove him to the brink of insanity.
“Don’t move,” he pleaded, freezing himself while he desperately struggled for control.
“Move?” she whispered, lifting her hips off the bed and unhurriedly rotating them in a small, control-killing action.
Kyle gasped, clenched his teeth, and threw back his head. He couldn’t hold back any longer. He began to move, pumping heavily, pounding into her. Carrie braced her feet against the mattress and met each of his thrusts with an upward movement of her hips, whimpering softly at each inward stroke.
Kyle had never experienced anything more keenly pleasurable. Release hit him like a runaway train. He groaned and couldn’t make himself stop moving, because the pleasure continued and continued, on and on, not abating. In the end, he was so exhausted he simply lay over Carrie.
When he found the strength, he rolled onto his side, taking her with him. They kissed, and his tongue probed her mouth. There hadn’t been much foreplay. He’d been too hot for her to delay the lovemaking any longer than he did.
Kyle had known it would be good, but nothing could have prepared him for exactly how good.
It seemed, in the aftermath of their lovemaking, that they were perfectly proportioned for each other. The fit was tight, ideal. She’d been so hot and moist, he swore he’d been ready to explode the minute she opened her legs to him.
Just thinking about how good it had been caused him to grow hard all over again. Kyle couldn’t believe it. Generally it took him an hour or longer to recover. He’d just finished making love to her, and already he wanted her again.
Before, she’d been talkative, but now she was silent.
“Carrie? Is something wrong?”
“No, everything’s perfect,” she whispered. “You’re perfect.”
He smiled to himself, greatly relieved the intensity of the experience hadn’t been one-sided. “I was just thinking the same thing about you.” He cupped her breasts in his hands and rubbed his thumbs over her nipples. Both instantly turned pebble hard.
“Let me taste you,” he pleaded, lowering his mouth to her breasts. “There wasn’t enough time to do it properly before, but there is now.”
“But…”
The lone word seemed to be her only objection. Kyle’s lips closed over a nipple, savoring one and then the other. He continued for several minutes, lavishing attention on her breasts.
She breathed heavily and groaned his name. Kyle smiled to himself, realizing that what Carrie was asking for was exactly what he was looking to give her. The first time they’d made love it had been fierce, almost combustive. He hoped their second go-round would be slow and sweet.
But Kyle was wrong. The tension was so damned hot and powerful, coiling within him, that it exploded out of control far sooner than he’d anticipated, much sooner than he wanted.
Afterward they slept. Kyle didn’t know how long. He woke in the middle of the night. The alarm clock on the nightstand said it was just after two. Carrie had tossed off the sheet and slept on her back. Her arms were positioned above her head and her foot was braced against the side of her knee.
For a long moment Kyle studied her, watching the even fall and rise of her breasts, the very ones that had tantalized him for days. The very ones that had filled his mouth only a few hours earlier. A man could grow accustomed to sleeping with a woman like this, he thought contentedly. Grow accustomed to loving a woman like this.
Unable to resist touching her, he ran his finger down the silky, fragile skin of her abdomen, stopping just short of the nest of curly dark hairs at the entrance to her womanhood.
Her eyes drifted open and, yawning softly, she smiled up at him. “Is it morning yet?”
“Not quite.”
She lowered her lashes until they brushed against the high arch of her cheekbones. “I should go back to my room.”
“No,” he said heatedly, then immediately lowered his voice. “Please stay.”
Her smile widened. “If I do, is it sleeping you have on your mind?”
“No.”
She laughed softly. Kyle had never heard anything more musical in his life. Lifting her arms, she tucked them around his neck and kissed him, amused still when their lips met.
“What’s so funny?”
“You.” Exerting pressure, she rolled him onto his back and braced her hands against his shoulders. “Who would have ever believed it would be like this for us? Not me!”
Kyle chuckled too, his eyes studying her, but the laughter soon evaporated when she pressed her hot little body over his erection.
“Carrie,” he warned between clenched teeth as she raised herself slightly and positioned herself above his turgid staff. Slowly, inch by incredible inch, she sank downward, lowering her body onto his, until she’d completely swallowed his member.
Kyle sucked in his breath, enveloped by the sweetest, hottest heat he’d ever experienced. Gripping her by the waist, he began working her up and down, straining his body upward to meet her thrusts. The pleasure was almost more than he could bear. Each time she lowered her weight onto him, Kyle trembled. His breathing grew shallow and weak as he gritted his teeth, yearning to prolong his release.
Kyle diverted his attention to Carrie, awed by what an incredibly sensual lover she was. Her eyelids drooped and she bit into her lower lip as she moved gently over him.
And then she smiled, that secret, womanly smile of hers. The sight of it sent him careening over the edge. Kyle forgot about control, he forgot about everything but the exquisite pleasure loving her gave him.
Afterward, sated, exhausted, they fell into a deep sleep.
When Carrie opened her eyes she felt as contented as a cat napping in the sun. Kyle was asleep at her side, and for a few moments she did nothing but study him, reveling in the way his chest moved in the slow, easy rhythm of slumber.
Her head throbbed with the beginnings of a pounding headache. She’d definitely had too much to drink the night before. Then again, she’d drunk exactly enough.
The wine had given her the courage to confront Kyle, and the few sips of scotch had sent her inhibitions flying out the window.
If this trip had accomplished anything, it had helped her revise her opinion of Kyle Harris. He was definitely more man than met the eye. She didn’t know what he ate for breakfast, but there was definitely a tiger in his tank.
She’d lost count of the number of times they’d made love. It seemed they slept in fits and starts, waking after brief interludes to reach for each other once again. A dam of longing and need had burst wide open between them, and they’d done their level best to make up for lost time.
Carrie shifted onto her back and realized she was sore. With little wonder. Nibbling on Kyle’s ear, she whispered, “I’m going to take a bath.”
His arm inched around her waist, pinning her against him. “Now?” he asked, his eyes closed. “What time is it?”
“Eight.” The first session of the conference was scheduled for nine. If they wanted to attend the early workshops, they needed to get going.
“You want me to order breakfast?”
“Please.” She kissed the tip of his nose and moved o
ff the bed.
Humming to herself, she ran the bathwater and sank into the steaming comfort of the tub. Settling into the bubbles, she braced her head against the back of the porcelain base and closed her eyes. A couple of minutes later, Kyle knocked and padded barefoot into the room.
“I just came in to see if you needed anything,” he said.
“I’m fine, thanks,” she replied, smiling up at him. He’d put on his pants but left his shirt unbuttoned.
Now that he was with her, Kyle didn’t seem anxious to leave. Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, he reached for the washcloth. “Need any help?”
She eyed him speculatively. “I can manage, thank you.”
His shoulders sagged. “You’re sure?”
“Kyle, the first workshops start in less than an hour.”
“You want to go?” He sounded shocked.
“We paid for them, didn’t we?” she asked instead.
“Yes, but…” He paused, stood, and stuffed his hands inside his pants pockets. A slow, steady smile began to form and his dark eyes gleamed. “It’s been my experience that the first workshops aren’t of much interest.”
“They usually aren’t very well attended, are they?” Carrie asked.
“From what I can tell, the subject matter is downright boring.”
“Boring,” she repeated, and then sighed and eased herself down into the warm, muscle-soothing waters.
“You’re sure you don’t need me to wash your back…and other areas?”
Carrie closed her eyes and handed him the washcloth. “You’re incorrigible.”
He worked up a heavy lather, then ran it gently over her breasts. Soon the washcloth was discarded and his hands slid over her soap-slickened skin.
A knock sounded at the door. Kyle closed his eyes and groaned.
“Who’s that?” Carrie asked.
“Room service,” he muttered.
He left her and closed the door. While Kyle paid the waiter, Carrie climbed out of the tub, dried off, and wrapped herself in the thick terry-cloth robe the hotel provided.
She came into the room just as Kyle was pouring the coffee. “I’m starved,” she announced, lifting the silver dome and sniffing appreciatively. He’d ordered her a low-cholesterol meal, but she didn’t object.
“I’m hungry myself.”
Carrie giggled. “No wonder.” She reached for a half slice of toast and munched on it while Kyle set their plates on a small circular table next to the window. Then she sat down and took a second piece of toast. “Feed me, Seymour, then you can love me.”
Kyle grinned. “My plan exactly.” He reached for the miniature jar of ketchup. “All I can say is thank God for the Pill.”
Carrie froze. “What makes you think I take birth control pills? And what makes you assume birth control is a woman’s responsibility?”
Her questions gave Kyle some pause. “You came to my room, remember? It makes sense that if you wanted to make love you’d take care to prevent a pregnancy.”
“I came to you?”
“Yes,” he said. “Our making love was what you intended, wasn’t it?”
For one wild second, Carrie was afraid she was going to slap him. “No, it wasn’t. I wanted to apologize for what happened with Tom and explain that we’re only friends.”
Kyle set his toast aside and took a deep breath. “I can see our discussion is upsetting you. I apologize, Carrie. You’re right. Birth control is something we should have discussed before we became…involved. We didn’t, so we’ll just have to live with it.”
Slowly Carrie stood and started moving about the room, collecting her clothes. It wasn’t what he’d said that upset her so much as what he’d implied. Apparently Kyle assumed she had an active sex life, so active it was necessary for her to be on the Pill.
His implied opinion of her cut deep. With one careless statement, he’d left her feeling unclean. He took what had been a beautiful, special night and made it into something sordid and cheap.
“Carrie,” Kyle said, taking hold of her arms, stopping her. “What are you doing?”
She pressed the hard ball of her clothes against her abdomen. “I’m going back to my room.”
“But why?”
“We’re here for a conference, remember? And as I said earlier, we paid good money to attend these workshops. I think we should go to them, don’t you?”
“No,” he said emphatically. “Let’s talk this out.”
She looked up at him and bit her lower lip. “Not now. I need to think.”
Carrie was grateful that she didn’t meet anyone in the stairwell. The last thing she needed was to be seen wandering through the hotel, wearing a robe and carrying her clothes.
She sat on the end of the bed, attempting to sort through her feelings. Kyle was right. She had gone to his room for all the wrong reasons. Her sole purpose hadn’t been to entice him into bed, but to be fair the possibility had been in the back of her mind. It had started when they shared a bed in Paris, maybe even before then; Carrie didn’t know anymore.
She reached for the phone and used her calling card to dial her sister’s number. If she was lucky, Carrie might reach Cathie before she left for work.
Cathie answered on the fourth ring, sounding breathless and impatient.
“It’s Carrie,” she said, and immediately burst into tears. “I’ve been such a terrible fool, and now I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
Kyle looked for Carrie most of the morning. He made a point of stopping in a number of workshops. One would think, after the fuss she’d made, she’d at least show up for one or two.
But he hadn’t so much as caught a glimpse of her all morning. He wasn’t entirely sure what he’d said that was so terrible. All right, maybe the comment about the Pill had been out of line, but they’d need to discuss it sooner or later.
As for her comment about responsibility being shared, he didn’t have an argument there. She was right. The minute he realized what was going to happen, he should have made a quick trip downstairs.
Okay, so he’d made a mistake, but it wasn’t the end of the world. It was a hell of a shame for the most incredible night of his life to end with an argument.
Knowing Carrie, all she needed was a little bit of time and space and she’d work matters out for herself. He’d be patient and wait for her to contact him, although it was going to be damned difficult. He wanted this settled as quickly as possible.
Whether they could resolve their differences would be the true test of how strongly they’d bonded in the last few days.
It worried him a little. All right, it worried him a whole lot. He was willing to do whatever it took to make matters right between them.
When Kyle hadn’t heard from her by early afternoon, he couldn’t make himself wait any longer. Against his better judgment, he went to a house phone.
“Carrie Jamison’s room, please,” he told the operator.
“One moment,” came back the tinny voice. “I’m sorry, sir, our records show she checked out of the hotel this morning.”
9
“What do you mean she disappeared?” Clyde Tarkington bellowed.
“Carrie’s checked out of the hotel. I thought you might have some idea of where she might be.” Kyle was fast growing desperate, desperate enough to call KUTE, hoping Clyde might have heard something. That woman would be the death of him yet.
“You two still egging each other on?” Clyde asked.
“No,” Kyle said, and impatiently jerked his fingers through his hair. “We had a minor misunderstanding.”
“It doesn’t sound so minor to me,” Clyde said. It sounded as though the station manager was enjoying this.
“She’s got a sister living somewhere in the Dallas area,” Kyle continued. “Have you got any information about her?”
“Give me a minute. There might be something in the file.”
Kyle had never been more impatient in his life. Leave it to Carrie to drive him to this. H
e found himself clenching and unclenching his fist, needing to do something, anything, to alleviate this terrible tension.
“It doesn’t say anything about a sister in her employment file,” Clyde said, coming back on the line.
“She mentioned her casually, but for the life of me I can’t remember her name.”
“I’ve heard Carrie mention her myself. Seems to me her name’s Cathie,” Clyde supplied.
“That should be enough information,” Kyle murmured. “I’ll take it from there. But Clyde, listen, if you hear from Carrie, I’d appreciate it if you’d let me know right away.”
“No problem.”
“I’ll be in touch.”
“See you bright and early Monday morning.”
Kyle relaxed. All wasn’t lost. At least he still had a job.
For the next hour, he sorted through telephone directories until he located a Cathie Jamison in Euless, Texas. Not wanting to risk Carrie’s knowing he was coming, Kyle left Dallas, drove to Euless, and, with only minor difficulties, located Carrie’s sister’s apartment. If his luck held, Carrie would be there and they could sort out whatever was wrong.
The woman who came to the door might have been Carrie’s twin. Cathie Jamison possessed the same deep brown eyes and upturned nose, but her soft, dark hair was cut short, flattering her face.
“May I help you?” Cathie asked.
“My name’s Kyle Harris,” he said quickly. “I’m looking for Carrie.”
“You’re Kyle Harris?” Cathie said, and leveled her gaze on him. “I’d rather burn in hell than give you any information about my sister.” With that she slammed the door.
Apparently Carrie and her sister shared more in common than a strong family resemblance.
Kyle rang the doorbell a second time. Cathie must have been waiting for him to do exactly that, because his finger had no sooner left the buzzer when the door flew open.
Before Cathie could issue any dire threats, Kyle spoke. “In case you’re interested, I really care about your sister.”
Cathie’s shoulders sank as she released a long, deep breath. “In that case you’d better come inside.” She held the screen door open.
One Night Page 11
