Loving Jessie

by Dallas Schulze

  Matt cupped his hand under her chin and lifted her face to his. “I can’t promise you that the earth will move or that you’ll see fireworks, but I can make it good for you, baby. That much I can promise.” He cradled her face between his hands and brought her mouth to his for a slow, warm kiss that made her toes curl into the thick carpeting. He ended the kiss before she was ready and looked down at her, his eyes full of heat and promise. “I can make it very good for you, if you’ll let me.”

  He took his hands away from her face, resting them lightly on the curves of her shoulders, putting a subtle distance between them.

  “It’s your decision, Jessie. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We can sit up all night drinking champagne and watching old movies on cable, or you can sleep in that lake of a bed by yourself and I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

  “It’s our wedding night,” she whispered.

  “Our wedding night,” he said with soft emphasis. “There are no wedding-night police who are going to break in and bust us if we don’t follow tradition. We can do anything we want.”

  She stared at his collarbone again and tried to sort out the tangled skein of her thoughts. He was offering her time, but time for what? To get to know him better? She’d known him most of her life. Time to adjust to their marriage? But sex was a part of marriage. If they weren’t sleeping together, they were roommates, not husband and wife. She didn’t want a roommate. She wanted a husband. And she wanted him.

  “No pressure, Jessie.” He gave her shoulders a light, reassuring squeeze.

  He meant it. He wasn’t going to pressure her into sleeping with him. Dammit. Why couldn’t he just seduce her, like any decent insensitive, selfish male? Instead he was giving her the choice, letting her make the decision like a mature adult. God, sometimes she hated being a grown-up.

  She shifted her hand on his chest, curling her fingers into the mat of dark hair, feeling the crisp springiness of it against her skin. She flashed suddenly on what it would feel like against her breasts. The image was so vivid that she had to close her eyes. Was there really any decision to make? She wanted him. Not because they were married, not because she was tired of sleeping alone, not even because she wanted a baby.

  Her need was more basic than that, a stark carnal hunger she hadn’t even known she was capable of feeling. She’d never particularly wanted to touch a man before, but she wanted to run her hands over Matt’s body, feel the coiled strength of skin and muscle sliding under her fingers. She wanted him to touch her the same way, wanted to feel the weight of his body on hers. Wanted to feel him inside her. She wanted everything she’d ever read in a romance novel, everything she’d ever seen on a movie screen, every secret fantasy she’d ever had, and she wanted them with this man.

  When she’d told him that she’d never wanted any man enough to go to bed with him, it had been the truth. Her feelings for Reilly had been part of the reason she’d remained chaste, but they hadn’t been the only reason. Before she slept with someone, she’d wanted to feel as if she had to sleep with him, as if she might regret it for the rest of her life if she didn’t take that last step. She’d never felt that, never even come close to it. Until now.

  His hands resting lightly on her shoulders, Matt waited. The last thing he’d expected was to find himself with an untouched bride. A part of his mind was squeaking “virgin” in a terrified little voice, but there was another part, a deeper, darker place he hadn’t even known existed, that was thinking only “mine.” It was primitive, it was sure to get him drummed out of the sensitive man’s club for life, but he couldn’t deny that the idea that Jessie had never given herself to another man was wildly erotic. There was a purely male satisfaction in the knowledge that this woman—his wife—would belong only to him in this way.

  He wasn’t going to question the how or why of it. And he wasn’t going to let himself wonder, even for a moment, if her feelings for Reilly had anything to do with the fact that she was still a virgin at twenty-nine. It didn’t matter why. All that mattered was that she was his now.

  He’d never wanted anyone the way he wanted Jessie, never felt this need to possess a woman, body and soul, to stamp her as his and only his. He hadn’t even known he was capable of feeling like this. But he wouldn’t break down and beg if she decided to sleep alone. He would accept her decision in a calm, mature manner, and then he would lock himself in the bathroom and howl with frustration.

  “How’s your shoulder?” Jessie asked suddenly, breaking the waiting silence between them. Her fingers slipped across his chest to the round, puckered scar on his left shoulder. She explored it gently, carefully, as if afraid she might hurt him.

  “It’s fine.” Puzzled by the sudden interest in his injury, Matt looked at her, but she kept her eyes on his chest.

  “Can you…lift things?”

  Her fingers were stroking his skin. It was a light, innocent touch that set off not-so-innocent shock waves. Matt’s hands tightened on her shoulders. It was hard to concentrate on what she was saying when all he really wanted to do was pull her down to the floor and bury himself so deep inside her that it would be impossible to tell where one began and the other ended.

  “I don’t think I’d want to try and move a Buick single-handed, but I can manage most things within reason.” That was good. He sounded calm. Reasonable. Not at all like a man clinging to the ragged edge of sanity. “What did you have in mind?”

  Jessie slid her fingers across his chest, trailing fire everywhere she touched. She brushed the small bud of his nipple, and Matt’s breath hissed between his teeth, his body jolting, sensation shooting straight to his groin. She tilted her head back, watching his face as she repeated the caress, her eyes holding an almost innocent curiosity. Matt caught her hand in his, holding it convulsively tight. If she kept touching him, he was going to forget that she was innocent, forget everything but the need to have her. Now.

  Her eyes were still on his, but the innocence was slipping away, leaving behind something darker, a look that said she was starting to recognize the feminine power she wielded, recognize it and revel in it. She didn’t try to pull away from his grip, but her free hand moved the few inches necessary to find his other nipple buried in the curling mat of hair. Watching him, she rubbed her thumb over the tight bud, the edge of her nail scraping ever so lightly.

  “Jessie…” His voice was thick with warning and need.

  “I’ve had this fantasy for a very long time,” she murmured, her gaze still on his face, that dark knowledge swimming up behind her eyes, and Matt’s heart was suddenly pounding against his breastbone. His fingers gentled around hers, his thumb stroking the center of her palm. She shivered, and his mouth curved in a smile that held tenderness and triumph. He knew, even before she spoke again, that he wasn’t going to be sleeping alone tonight.

  He lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss in the palm, letting her feel the soft stroke of his tongue. His voice was a husky caress. “Fantasies are my specialty.”

  “This tall, dark, handsome man just appears in my bedroom in the middle of the night.” Her free hand moved to the center of his chest, fingers combing through the dark curls. Matt nibbled on the side of the hand he held, hearing her breath take on a ragged little edge that was incredibly erotic.

  “What does he do then?”

  “He…he sweeps me up in his arms and carries me to the bed and—” She broke off, color flooding her face in a warm tide.

  “And what?” His teeth sank gently into the mound at the base of her thumb, and she swayed, her eyes fluttering half shut. “What does he do then, Jessie?”

  She stared up at him, the trembling confidence washed away by nerves and needs. “He does…stuff.” Laughter flashed in his blue, blue eyes, and she hid her hot face against his chest, leaning into him. “I feel like such a…a…”

  “Virgin?” he supplied helpfully.

  “Yes. And an idiot.” Her voice was muffled against him. “And I’m scare
d to death, which is stupid when I know exactly what’s going to happen and I know you won’t hurt me, but there’s a difference between knowing and actually knowing.” She drew a shuddering breath. “I want this, Matt. I want you. But I don’t know what to do next, and I wish—”

  She broke off when Matt buried his hand in the thick fall of her hair and lifted her face to his. His mouth came down on hers, stopping the nervous spill of words. Using his grip on her hair, he tilted her head to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding into her mouth, tasting her uncertainty, her need. He took his time, kissing her with a slow thoroughness that left her weak and clinging to him, her body pressed in a warm, trembling line to his. He lifted his head slowly, feeling her lips cling to his. Her lashes lay against her skin in soft, dark crescents for a moment before lifting slowly. Her eyes held the glazed look of a woman sunk fathoms deep in passion, but underneath the hunger, there was still a quivering uncertainty.

  Looking at her, Matt felt his own fear that he might not have the control he needed disappear. This was Jessie, and what he wanted was so much more than just the easing of a physical hunger. He wanted to make this perfect for her, wanted to fulfill every fantasy she’d ever had.

  She gasped as he bent to slide his arm under her knees and lift her off her feet. Holding her cradled against his chest, he brushed a quick kiss on her mouth.

  “Fantasies fulfilled while you wait.”

  Her heart fluttering in her chest, Jessie linked her arms around his neck. “I’m so glad I weigh less than a Buick,” she murmured, and felt some of her nervousness fade at his quick laughter.

  This was Matt. He’d become her husband today, but he’d been her friend for most of her life. How could she possibly be afraid of anything he would do? She let her head rest on his shoulder and gave herself into his keeping for the second time.

  Slow, Matt reminded himself as he set Jessie down beside the huge bed. Slow and easy. She said she wanted this, but a woman who was still a virgin at twenty-nine was sure to have some reservations about sharing her body with a man. He wanted her first time to be something she would remember with pleasure. That thought gave him the control he needed to rein in his own hunger. There would be other nights, other times when he could give in to the heat pumping through his veins. Tonight was all for Jessie.

  It would have been easier if she hadn’t been quite so responsive. If she didn’t make that little sound in her throat when he ran his hands over her body, palms sliding over the textured silk of her gown. It was more than a gasp, not quite a moan, and it made his body tighten with the need to taste her, to lay her back on the plush bedspread and take what she was so innocently offering. But tonight wasn’t about taking. It was about giving. He wanted to give her everything she’d ever dreamed of and things she hadn’t even known existed. The knowledge that she was his and his alone throbbed in his bloodstream, a primitive, possessive beat.

  He kissed her deeply, thoroughly, his mouth plundering hers, drinking in her response as his fingers gathered up the soft folds of her skirt until he could ease his hands beneath it. She jolted at the first touch of his hands on the bare skin at her waist, but Matt didn’t give her time to object, sweeping the nightgown up and off in one smooth movement, baring her slender body.

  Jessie gasped and took an instinctive step back. Not exactly the best choice if she was trying to preserve her modesty, she admitted as Matt’s electric-blue eyes swept over her, trailing heat everywhere they touched. She fought to control the urge to cover herself. This was what she wanted, she reminded herself. Okay, so maybe she hadn’t thought specifically about standing naked in front of him, but nakedness was part of the whole package, and, even with her heart beating like a trapped thing inside her, she wanted it all, everything his touch hinted at, everything his eyes promised.

  Matt felt his mouth go dry as he looked at her. She was all soft curves and warm shadows. Her breasts were full and softly rounded, with dusky pink nipples. His eyes trailed compulsively downward, across the gentle swell of her stomach to the thatch of dark gold curls at the top of her thighs and then down those long, long legs. He’d fantasized about having her legs wrapped around his waist, and now that fantasy was just two short steps and a soft mattress away from coming true.

  He closed his eyes for a moment, grabbing for his thinning self-control. Slowly, he reminded himself. He needed to take things slow and easy. Even if it killed him.

  Though his silence lasted less than a minute, it seemed an eternity to Jessie. She burst into nervous speech.

  “You know, I think this is the first time I’ve been naked in front of anyone since I was a baby. Well, a doctor maybe.” Her hands fluttered nervously with the instinctive need to cover herself. “But not really even there, because they always give you those stupid paper gowns to wear, like they’re trying to preserve your modesty, which is pretty ridiculous, when you think about it. I mean, they’re about to stick their fingers—”

  She broke off on a squeak when Matt’s arm swept around her waist, catching her up against his nearly naked, blatantly aroused body. Long fingers slid into her hair, cupping the back of her head, holding her still for a slow, hard kiss that left her breathless and weak-kneed. Or maybe it was the feel of his muscled chest against her bare breasts that melted every bone in her body and had her clinging to his shoulders when he finally lifted his head.

  Caught between laughter and lust, Matt looked down into her dazed eyes. “Not another word about doctors or tonsils or anything remotely medical,” he told her firmly. “I don’t want to hear another medical reference tonight.”

  Jessie stared up into those blue eyes and struggled to come up with a coherent response, but his hand was moving on her back, fingers lightly stroking the length of her spine, trailing fire in their wake.

  “Can I…” He moved against her, rocking his hips forward, and the feel of him with only the thin cotton of the pajama bottoms between them made both her pulse and her thoughts stutter. She swallowed twice, trying to find her voice. “Is it okay if I moan?” she managed to say at last.

  Matt’s smile was slow. “Yeah. Moaning is okay. Moaning’s real good.”

  He shifted his hold suddenly, one arm sliding under her bottom, the other across her back, lifting her until her breasts were level with his mouth. Jessie’s fingers dug into his shoulders, her body tensing in anticipation even before his tongue came out to lap one taut nipple, teasing it to aching hardness before taking it into his mouth. She felt the rhythmic tug at her breast and lower, a sharp drawing sensation that teetered on the knife edge of pain. Her fingers slid into his hair, holding him to her as she arched her back, trusting him to support her.

  She did moan, and the soft, breathy sound went through Matt like a sword. She was so sweetly responsive, so warm. He lingered over her breasts, savoring the silky taste of her flesh and the increasing urgency of those breathy little moans. His pulse was drumming in his ears when he finally lowered her, letting her slide slowly down his body. Her fingers still threaded through his hair, Jessie brought her mouth to his, kissing him with sweet hunger as she slipped through his arms.

  Take it slow. But the reminder seemed a distant, unimportant thing. How was it possible to take it slow when Jessie was clinging to him with open hunger, all her earlier hesitation burned away in the heat building between them? His mouth devoured hers. Or was she the one devouring him? His arms tightened convulsively around her, and he heard her breath catch at the feel of his swollen sex pressed against the soft curve of her belly.

  Matt had to force his arms to release her when she pulled back. If she wanted to end it here, he was going to start whimpering like a kicked puppy. But she didn’t seem interested in ending it. Her slim fingers hooked around the elastic waistband of his pajama bottoms and tugged.

  “Off.” She lifted eyes gone dark and hungry to his face.

  She didn’t have to ask twice. The pajamas landed in a heap somewhere behind him, and he stood before her, as naked as she was. B
ut different, Jessie thought. So very different. She’d seen naked men before—in photographs and movies—but she’d never been quite so up close and personal, and she’d certainly never seen a fully aroused male. And Matt was definitely that.

  Matt saw her eyes widen and her tongue come out to moisten suddenly dry lips. He waited, wondering what she was thinking, wondering if his self-control was going to last long enough to make this good for her, wondering if it was going to last long enough to get her into the damned bed. And then she reached out and stroked her fingers lightly down the length of his erection.

  Matt’s breath hissed between his teeth, and Jessie’s eyes lifted to his face, watching him with a wildly erotic blend of innocent curiosity and womanly knowledge. She stroked him again, just her fingertips moving lightly along the length of him, her eyes on his face, watching his reaction.

  “Your skin is so soft,” she murmured, curling her fingers around him and squeezing gently. Matt shuddered and steadied himself with his hands on her shoulders. “And so hot.”

  Matt groaned as her hand slid up and down, stroking him, driving him to the limits of his self-control. His teeth gritted, he endured her curious exploration as long as he could. Her hand eased down, and he hit the end of his tether, his hand clamping over her wrist.

  “Enough,” he muttered, drawing her hand away from his aching flesh. His laugh was shaky. “If you keep that up, we’re going to end this before we get started.”

  He lifted her up onto the bed, laying her back against the cool linen sheets, and followed her down, leaning on one elbow next to her. His self-control shredding under the brutal pressure of his hunger, Matt cupped his hand over her, threading his fingers through the downy softness of honey-colored curls to find the damp flesh between her thighs. Her breath came out on a startled little cry, and she bolted against him, her legs closing instinctively, clamping his fingers against her.

  “Let me touch you.” His voice was low, guttural. His struggle for control was revealed in the tight drawing of his skin over his cheekbones, the glittering blue of his eyes. “Open your legs for me, baby.”