Wild at Heart

by Jane Graves

  Yes. Yes. Now she remembered. Oh, God. She remembered exactly what he felt like. What he tasted like. How persistent his mouth felt against hers, how every soft, scorching movement of his lips and tongue made her muscles go weak.

  There had been unguarded moments over the years when she’d lain awake at night and tried to recall every detail about the way he’d kissed her, but as time went on, the memories slipped out of focus, and she knew there were parts of them that she’d never remember again. But now it all came back to her in a blinding rush, and she wondered how the memory of something so incredible could possibly have faded at all.

  One tiny part of her was telling her she ought to push him away, that it could lead to nothing but misery for both of them, but kissing him felt as natural, as perfect as anything she’d ever done, and right now she felt as if the only way she’d be miserable was if she made him stop.

  “Well. Looks like I’m just in time.”

  They pulled apart quickly and spun around. Cletus was standing beside them, holding a motel room key.

  Oh, God. She couldn’t do this. She just couldn’t. She wanted Alex with a desperation that bordered on obsession, but she just couldn’t face the consequences. It had nearly killed her when she’d found out that in the long line of women he’d slept with, she’d just been one more. If things ended that way tomorrow morning, this time she didn’t think she’d survive.

  Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice …

  “Just aired out the rooms,” Cletus said. “You folks are free to go back to the motel whenever you want to. And it looks like that ‘whenever’ is probably right about now.”

  “Yes,” Alex said, taking the key. “Thanks.”

  “No problem,” he said with a grin. “No problem at all.”

  chapter fifteen

  As they walked back to the motel, neither Alex nor Val said a word.

  Alex had no idea what had come over him, but when they were at that celebration, he suddenly had the feeling that they’d gotten stranded in a foreign land, in a place where all their problems suddenly melted into the background. And he hadn’t been lying. Val looked beautiful. As usual, she’d plunged right into the heart of the action, so full of life that people were naturally drawn to her. He thought about reprimanding her for talking so much to Glenda and all the other people when they really should be lying low, but he had a gut feeling that it just didn’t matter.

  He’d taken her to the dance floor for one reason only: because he wanted to get his hands on her, to touch her again after all this time, to see if his five-year-old memory of her was as accurate as he thought. It wasn’t. It missed by a mile. The reality of touching her again put his memory to shame.

  And then he’d kissed her. He didn’t remember a time in his life when he’d kissed a woman in public. But right out there on that dance floor in front of the entire population of Tinsdale, Texas, he’d kissed Val as if the next step they took would be right into bed.

  And she’d kissed him back.

  The noise of the crowd and the music faded away as they walked, until all he heard was the soft, hollow sound of their footsteps along the sidewalk. Now that it was just the two of them alone, walking along this deserted, small-town street with no distractions, the prospect of making love to her was so overwhelming that he couldn’t think of anything else.

  They reached the motel, and he opened the door to room seven. He stepped aside for Val to enter. She reached for the wall switch, but he covered her hand with his, then pulled it away from the switch before she could flip it on. He drew her around to face him, closing the door behind them at the same time. Nothing but moonlight illuminated the room.

  “Alex?” she whispered, a questioning look filling her eyes, just as it had that night all those years ago.

  It was almost as if he was getting a second chance to make things right. To make love to her, then wake with her in the morning, and no matter how desperate their situation, to come to some kind of understanding. To show her, finally, that he wasn’t what she thought he was at all.

  “I hadn’t counted on tonight, Val,” he said. “Not for one minute. I couldn’t have imagined—”

  He stopped short, treading softly, wanting to make sure she was with him on this. They had too much history for him to risk making a wrong move now.

  “I think you want what I want,” he said. “Am I wrong?”

  “That depends on what you want.”

  “I thought I made that clear on the dance floor.”

  “That was a kiss,” she told him. “Only a kiss.”

  Alex felt a twinge of foreboding. As hot as he was for her right now, he didn’t think he’d be able to stand it if she turned around and walked away from him. The way she felt, the way she smelled, the way she tasted—all of it was heaven to him. This was what he wanted for the past five years, whether he’d admitted it or not. Until Val, he’d never had the feeling that he’d walk through fire to make love to a woman, but that was exactly what he felt now.

  “Okay, then,” he said. “I want more than a kiss. Don’t you?”

  No denial. Only a long, shaky breath.

  Too fast. He was moving too fast. You’ve got all night, DeMarco. Use it.

  Or maybe that wasn’t it at all. Maybe she was thinking twice about having any kind of relationship with a man who might end up in prison for the next twenty years. Could he really blame her for that?

  He smoothed his hands over her shoulders. “I know this is a strange situation. We’re in a hell of a mess, and we don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow. So just for tonight—”

  “So just for tonight we might as well have sex?”

  Startled, Alex leaned away. “No. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  She laughed a little, but it didn’t ring true. “But you said it, didn’t you? ‘Just for tonight.’ ”

  “Val—”

  “It’s okay, Alex. We’re both on the same page now. You want sex; I want sex.” She hooked her fingers into his jeans pockets and pulled him back against her. “We’re stuck here together, so why not?”

  Suddenly all her indecision seemed to vanish, and a thin, cynical smile crossed her lips. What the hell was going on?

  It was a monumental effort, but he pushed her away and held her at arm’s length. “Val? What are you doing?”

  “Gosh, Alex. Of all people, I didn’t think you would be somebody I’d have to explain sex to.”

  Then he knew. She was doing it again. Making huge assumptions about his motives, then baiting him with them to see if he would bite. And if he did …

  He felt a rush of anger. She was playing a game. Nothing more. She assumed he was merely taking advantage of the situation, just as she thought he had five years ago. She was looking for another reason to go on hating him, and if he took her up on her offer after what she’d just said, she’d have her ammunition.

  He was tired of the games. Tired of the accusations she hurled at him. Tired of being treated like the bad guy when he’d never intended to hurt her at all, back then or now. And he wasn’t going to put up with it anymore.

  “Okay,” he said. “Fine. You want sex? Let’s have sex.”

  In one smooth swoop, he yanked the hem of his T-shirt out of his jeans, then took it off. He flung it aside, then took a step forward, forcing her to take an awkward step backward until she bumped into the door.

  “Take off your clothes.”

  She blinked with surprise. “What?”

  “I said take off your clothes. And move it. I’m not a patient man.”

  She looked at him with momentary disbelief. Just as quickly, though, her expression melted into sarcasm. “Gosh, Alex. You’re such a romantic.”

  “It’s just sex, Val. Remember? If you want flowers and candlelight, go somewhere else.”

  He saw the surprise in her eyes, but true to her nature, she didn’t back down. After a long pause, she pulled off her T-shirt, striving for an air of nonchalance. She was wearing a
lacy blue bra, its fabric so thin he could clearly see the outline of her nipples. Desire flashed through him in an instant, making him so hard so fast that it was all he could do not to rip his jeans off to take away some of the pressure. He wanted to touch her. He wanted desperately to stroke her nipples, to move his fingertips slowly back and forth over them until he felt them harden, until they pressed against the fabric of her bra.

  But he couldn’t. Not this time.

  “Now the jeans.”

  He saw her swallow hard. “Sure, Alex. Whatever you say.”

  With a deep, silent breath she ripped open the button fly of her jeans.

  “All the way off.”

  He stood so close to her that she could barely wiggle out of them. Once they were on the floor, he kicked them aside. He lazily appraised her body, moving downward to her waist, then lingering over her blue bikini panties. They were as thin and lacy as her bra, doing little to hide the dark triangle of hair that disappeared between her legs.

  And those legs. They were as perfect as he remembered. He had a sudden flash of how they had once been wrapped around him, pulling him deep inside her. He’d felt her hot breath against his ear, saying his name over and over.…

  He forced himself to look up again, to meet her eyes. He saw a flicker of apprehension, which escalated when he took half a step forward and placed a palm on the door beside her head. She swept her tongue over her lips, her breath coming faster.

  Those lips. Damn. The kisses he’d given her so far had just been warm-ups. He wouldn’t mind spending all night just reacquainting himself with that beautiful mouth of hers.

  “So what are you waiting for?” she said breathlessly.

  He moved one hand down, and with a casual flick of his fingertips, he opened the front clasp of her bra. She instantly raised her arms and covered her breasts.

  “Is there a problem, Val?”

  “N-no. Of course not. I was just surprised.…”

  “Take it off.”

  After a moment, she slid the straps off her shoulders and let the bra fall to the floor behind her. Before she could cover herself again, he grabbed her wrists and pushed her hands to her sides, then stared down at her. Her breasts were incredible. They were fuller than they seemed to be when she was clothed, and perfectly shaped, capped by rosy-brown nipples that were hardening all by themselves in the cool air of the motel room. For a full ten seconds, all he could do was stare at them, imagining what it would feel like to touch them.

  “Like what you see?” she asked.

  “Oh, yeah,” he said. “That is one nice pair of tits.”

  She closed her eyes at the vulgar remark, letting out a nervous breath at the same time. Her phony enthusiasm was fading quickly, her bravado melting away.

  “Come on, Alex,” she taunted, her voice a little shaky. “Aren’t those jeans of yours getting a little tight?”

  “First things first.” He backed away from her. “Get on the bed.”

  She paused a moment, then brushed past him and went to the bed. She’d barely sat down before he pushed her onto her back, taking a wrist in either hand and pinning them against the bed above her shoulders. Her eyes flew open wide, glinting with unmistakable panic, an expression that grew even more distressed when he pressed his knee onto the bed in the space between her legs. She squirmed against him, but she was trapped.

  “So is this how you want it?” he said. “Down and dirty?”

  “Sure,” she said breathlessly. “Why not?”

  “Wish I’d known that all I had to do was snap my fingers and you’d get naked. Think of all the fun we could have been having.”

  He could feel her trembling, but still she looked at him defiantly. “You’re all talk, Alex. Where’s the action?”

  He released her and backed away, catching her panties with his fingertips in one smooth move and yanking them down to her knees. She gasped and tried to sit up, but he pushed her down again.

  “Don’t move.”

  He sat down on the bed beside her, splaying one palm against her abdomen. Then he ran his other hand upward from her knee until he reached the junction of her thighs. She closed her eyes, her jaw clenched tightly, and a hot pink flush rose on her cheeks.

  He slid his hand over the silky hair between her legs. She gasped and reached for his hand to still it, but he parried with his other hand, pushing hers away. Then he slid his fingers downward and tried to slip them inside her, only to meet with enough resistance that he knew just how much she’d been lying to him. She might be talking as if she were enjoying this, but her body was telling the real story.

  “I thought you were ready for sex,” he said.

  “Alex—”

  “You’re a tease, Val. Your words are telling me you want it, and your body’s telling me you don’t. Which is it?”

  “I do want it. But I’m not quite … I mean, you haven’t …” Her voice trailed off, and she turned her head away.

  “Haven’t what? Made love to you?”

  “No. That’s not what I mean.”

  “Then what do you mean? I’m just giving you what you asked for. So what’s the problem?”

  “No problem. I-I just—”

  “I thought we decided we’d dispense with all that useless foreplay crap. Was I wrong?”

  “Stop it, Alex.”

  “After all, Val, it’s just sex.”

  “I said stop it!”

  She sat up suddenly and reached for the bedsheet. Before she could drag it over her, Alex stood up, grabbed her by her upper arms, and hauled her to her feet.

  “Of course you want me to stop! And do you know why? Because now you know what ‘just sex’ feels like and you don’t want any part of it!”

  She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. Tears sprang to her eyes.

  “It’s pretty damned cold, isn’t it?” When she didn’t respond, he gave her a shake. “Isn’t it?”

  “Yes!”

  “Does it bear any resemblance—any at all—to what happened between us five years ago?”

  She blinked several times, her expression wavering. Then she seemed to crumple a little in his grip, and her eyes filled with tears.

  “No,” she whispered.

  “Then don’t you ever use those words to describe anything between us ever again. Do you understand?”

  She gave him a shaky nod.

  He released her. She sat back down on the bed. He grabbed her jeans and T-shirt and tossed them to her. He walked over and picked up his shirt from the floor.

  “You actually thought I meant to go through with it, didn’t you?” he said. “That you were seeing the real me?”

  She wiped a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand and turned away again. He pulled his T-shirt over his head and yanked it down.

  “That just goes to show that you don’t know a damned thing about me.” He strode to the door, then whipped back around. “I’m tired of being the bad guy, Val. I know I made a lot of wrong moves that night. But don’t you ever again try to insinuate that I was nothing but a hard-hearted son of a bitch who didn’t give a damn about you, because you know better. You know better.”

  He yanked the door open and left the room, slamming it closed behind him.

  Val pulled the sheet up to her chin, tears staining her face, still feeling Alex’s anger radiating throughout the room. She held her hands out and realized they were trembling.

  He was right. He’d been a totally different man five years ago. He’d made love to her for hours, kissing her, touching her, coaxing her to peak after peak of excitement, taking pleasure himself only when he’d given it to her first.

  Nothing like the man he’d been tonight.

  No. That wasn’t right. It was exactly like the man he’d been tonight, before she’d accused him of wanting her for all the wrong reasons.

  She pulled on her jeans, then peeked out through the curtains. Alex sat on the steps outside, his back to her. He was just sitting there motionl
ess, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped in front of him, staring ahead at nothing.

  Val lay down on one side of the bed and pulled the covers up over her. What had she done, talking to him like that? Everything had been so wonderful, and then she’d said those things, and then …

  She started to cry again. It felt so strange, so unfamiliar to have all those tears running down her face, and she desperately tried to stop. She never cried. Never. The only times she could remember shedding a single tear in her adult life, Alex had been the cause of it.

  Eons seemed to pass before she heard his footsteps on the porch. He opened the door and came back inside the room, then walked to the edge of the bed. Her heart thundered inside her chest.

  But he didn’t say a word. He merely grabbed a pillow, then a spare blanket from the closet. He tossed them both down on the sofa on the other side of the room.

  “Alex. You don’t have to sleep on the sofa.”

  He didn’t respond. She turned slightly and saw him taking off his shirt again. Then he lay down on the sofa. She had the most desperate urge to walk over there. To touch him again. But she knew she couldn’t stand it if he pulled away from her. And he would. She had no doubt about that.

  She lay awake for a long time, Alex’s words floating around inside her mind.

  Don’t you ever again try to insinuate that I was nothing but a hard-hearted son of a bitch who didn’t give a damn about you, because you know better. You know better.

  If that were true, though, it begged the question: If it hadn’t been just sex between them, then what had it been?

  At eight o’clock the next morning, Stanley opened the door to the Quick Mart and stepped inside, the jingle bells attached to the door announcing his arrival. But Glenda was busy ringing up a customer and didn’t look his way.

  He circled around to the coffeepot and poured himself a cup. Unfortunately, his hands were shaking so much that when he reached for the creamer, he practically spilled it.