THIS PERFECT STRANGER

by Barbara Ankrum

  Then, he closed the distance between them and covered her mouth with his, dragging her up against him. Maggie wrapped her arms around him, knowing how close she'd come to never, ever feeling this again. Never knowing his embrace or hearing the concern in his voice. It made no sense, she thought as his mouth slanted against hers with a need that seemed destined to destroy them both, that she wanted it, too.

  His tongue slid past the open seam of her lips and toyed with hers. He tasted of rain and heat and relief. He pulled her flush against him and there was no mistaking where this was going. Her breasts felt full and heavy there against the cool dampness of him and his hand slid upward to cup her there. The sensation nearly stole whatever strength was left in her knees.

  "Oh, Cain—" she breathed against his lips.

  "Shh—" he said, sliding his fingers into her hair and finding her mouth with his again. It seemed as if she'd always known it would come to this. This awful wanting. This force that wouldn't be stopped.

  She was beyond trying to stop it. She needed to feel his skin against hers the way she needed air to breathe. Heat poured down on them from the shower and slid between the chill of her clothes and the warmth of his hands as they slipped beneath her sodden T-shirt and found the cool skin of her belly. His hand skimmed over her, exploring new territory as he kissed her.

  Their breath mingled beneath the stream of water, and she tasted his tongue as he discovered hers. Maggie pulled him closer, sliding her fingers into the soaked hair at the nape of his neck. She loved the feel of his strength. The tension hovered there in the muscles of his neck and back and shoulders, radiating heat. Suddenly, he lifted her against him—against the irrefutable evidence of his desire for her—and turned her until her back was flush against the cool wall and his teeth had found her breast through the wet fabric her shirt. He tortured her there for a minute before turning his attention back to her mouth.

  A noise came from her throat, a ragged sound, not quite a moan and not a cry. But something altogether wanton.

  He broke the kiss, sliding his mouth down her throat again until he'd reached the small hollow at the base of her neck. "So beautiful, Maggie," he murmured. "I've wanted to kiss that spot since the first moment I saw you."

  She let her head fall sideways to give him better access because what he was doing there had stolen the strength from her muscles and was beginning to coil deep and low at the center of her.

  She slid her hands under the sodden black T-shirt that clung to him and followed the twin columns of muscle that ran up his spine. The only part of him that was soft was his skin, like wet silk under her hands. She wanted him closer than he already was. She wanted to feel this strength inside her, be part of it. Their clothes were only in the way and she wanted to be able to look at his chest without pretending she wasn't.

  She pushed the soaked fabric upward until he noticed what she was doing and tore it the rest of the way off. Maggie swallowed hard, staring at the sculpted perfection of him. Gone was the sinewy gauntness he'd had when he'd come. The V of hair that dusted his chest was wet and dark and she spread her fingers across his chest testingly, wanting to feel it.

  He watched her do it and his chest rose and fell rapidly with his breathing. Then he returned the favor, lifting the hem of her muddy T-shirt and slipping it over her head.

  Suddenly, she was standing there with only her pink lace bra and jeans on.

  For a moment, he didn't do anything but look, as if taking in what he'd only been imagining. Then his hands slid up from her waist to cup her and test the weight of her breasts in his hands. His eyes rose to meet hers with something close to wonder.

  "Pink," he murmured. "I want—"

  She pulled one strap until it fell off her shoulder and down her arm.

  A shuddering breath escaped him as he followed her movement with his mouth, sliding downward until he'd pushed the fabric aside with his tongue and found her nipple.

  Maggie gasped as he took it in his mouth, sucking hard as his free hand found her other breast. She arched toward him, and gave a shuddering sigh as he slid the other strap off her shoulder and let the delicate fabric fall open beneath her breasts. Then he shifted his attention to her other side.

  Maggie stared down at the top of his head, the dark silky hair that curled at the nape of his neck and she wondered why it had taken a near death experience to make her realize that she needed this. To feel alive again. Oh, she felt … on fire!

  Her skin tingled and a buzzing had started somewhere at the back of her skull. The hum was moving through her like an electric current.

  Cain left a trail of hot kisses up her chest as he moved his attention back to her cheek. His lips moved against her ear, "Tell me to stop, Maggie," he whispered. "Tell me now 'cause I'm not sure I can do it on my own."

  She moved her head from side to side, breathing heavily. "Don't stop."

  Not afraid, she thought. Afraid not to, came the next thought. Because his hands, as they slid inside her jeans and shoved them down her legs, made her feel like a woman for the first time in years. And his mouth made her remember what it felt like to be wanted.

  She found the metal button at the top of his jeans as well and snapped it open. When she did that, he stopped and looked down at her hands, then slowly lifted his gaze up to her face.

  And took her breath away.

  Water glistened on his skin and his dark lashes … a sea god, come to shore. All power and grace and surprise, he reached for her, taking her face between his hands.

  "No ghosts between us. Not now. Now it's just you—" his mouth taunted hers a heartbeat away "—and me." He teased the corner of her mouth, staying just out of her reach. Then took her hand and guided it down again to the flat plane of his belly. "Touch me, Maggie."

  And she did.

  * * *

  Chapter 10

  « ^ »

  Cain's taut muscles jumped as she dragged her palm across the rippled expanse, then slid upward to find the flat round disks of his nipples nestled in the damp hair of his chest. She rolled the tips of her fingers across them, watching them harden the way hers had at the touch of his tongue. Then she moved her hands downward to the zipper on his jeans and tugged it down.

  Beneath the sodden denim, he guided her fingers against him. He was hard for her and Maggie's breath came in a ragged gasps at the intimate touch. And then his hands caught the silky pink fabric around her hips and discarded it somewhere at their feet beneath the hot stream of water.

  She felt exposed and raw, every nerve on fire as he drew her closer, sliding his hands down the length of her back until he could cup her against him. He tilted his hips against her and took her mouth with his again, this time without any gentleness. This time, the hunger there was unmasked. His mouth slanted against hers first one way, then the other as if he were searching for a way inside her.

  His fingers found a way.

  He dipped into her at the apex of her legs and Maggie gasped. Something began to melt inside her, blur any misgivings she might have had into sheer want. He deepened his caress while he kissed her, and Maggie's knees began to buckle.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face against him. She could feel the thud of his heart against her breast. It was beating fast, like hers. There was no mistaking it this time. The need that pressed against her belly was for her. She needed him, too.

  He unlocked her arms from around him, and pushed her back against the wall, pressing wet kisses against the sensitive skin of her inner arm until he reached her breast. He lavished his attentions on it again before moving down the flat curve of her belly and further down. Maggie flung her hands out against the wall for support because she was afraid she would slide down into a little puddle if he didn't stop.

  He lifted his head and looked at her, tracing her rib cage with his thumbs and ending at the indentation of her waist. A devilish smile curved the corners of his mouth as he dipped his fingers into her again, torturing her delicious
ly. She was slick and wet and ready for him and she needed … oh, she needed—!

  "Cain—" she whispered with some urgency.

  "Mmm?" he murmured against her belly, tracing her hipbone with his tongue.

  "Did you notice," she asked breathlessly, "that I'm the only naked one in this shower?"

  He moved downward. "Mmm-hmm… Yeah. Nice…"

  "I think," she said, clutching at the wall, "I'm going to fall."

  "No, you're not." He cupped her backside in his strong hands and drew her to him, holding her up and stealing whatever strength was left in her knees.

  "Oh—!" she gasped, plunging her fingers into his hair as his mouth tormented her. Her breathing had degenerated into something animal-like and she heard a sound that must have come from her. Tension coiled inside her as he drove her to an edge, then stopped just short of pushing her over.

  Maybe she would die now, she thought as he got slowly to his feet, following the path of his hands.

  "Sweet," he murmured, cradling her breasts in his hands and brushing her aching nipples with his fingers. "So sweet."

  Maggie wrapped her arms around him again, her whole being trembling with need. She kissed the side of his neck, nipping him with her teeth as she trailed kisses up to his ear. At the sensitive inside of his ear, she laved him with her tongue. He hissed a breath past his teeth.

  "Take off your clothes," she whispered, slipping her wet hands into the waistband of his jeans.

  He smiled against her neck and immediately obliged, tugging the wet denims off and sending the cotton briefs after.

  She couldn't help it. She looked down. And swallowed hard.

  "Better?" he asked, drawing her up against the velvety steel of him.

  "Mmm. Did I mention that you're beautiful?" she asked breathlessly.

  He laughed, a deep throaty laugh, as his fingers found her again. "No, but that's my line."

  "Sorry." Throwing her head back so he could access her throat. "Oh, don't stop doing that."

  He growled against her neck. "I've got something better."

  "Ohh … yes, please," she begged.

  And suddenly he was lifting her up, wrapping her around him and settling her downward until he filled her with an exquisite pressure. Her breath came in shaky gasps in the steamy shower and he turned her under the deluge to warm her even as he began moving inside her. Maggie forgot the cold and the heat and only remembered how much she loved being in his arms and feeling him inside her.

  Cain pressed her back against the wall, as he moved with the ageless rhythm of passion. His mouth found hers and she kissed him hungrily. He couldn't get enough of her. He wanted … he needed more, deeper, harder…

  She was everything he'd dreamed and more. Her heat fired him and the way she ran her tongue along the inside of his ear nearly made him lose it. She was slick and wet and wanting. He needed to make it good for her, but he was afraid he was going to go too fast, too hard, because she was driving him over the edge and he was barely hanging onto his control. Her fingernails trailed across his back and those small panting sounds she made with each plunge fueled a conflagration that was threatening to consume them both.

  "Don't—" she whispered desperately "—stop."

  He couldn't if he tried. So he complied, feeling her coiling tighter around him until she bucked in his arms and cried out. Shaking now, Cain followed her blindly over that cliff, driving into her with a hard thrust, spilling himself inside her.

  Maggie collapsed against his shoulder, breathing raggedly, and Cain pushed her against the wall, afraid he really would drop her if he wasn't careful. He let her slide down him until her feet touched the floor of the tub, then he buried his face in her hair as he wrapped his shaking arms around her.

  Neither of them spoke for long seconds as behind them, the water began to run cool. Cain reached around and shut it off, then tugged a towel off the rack and wrapped it around her. She was trembling. Not from cold. Her skin felt hot to his touch. But from whatever had possessed them. It lingered between them still, but the sharp edge had been blunted for the time being.

  Cain rubbed the towel over Maggie's shoulders, tugging the edges together and pulling her toward him for one last kiss. He kept it brief, staring at her and wondering how he'd managed to keep his hands off her until now. It had been a long time since he'd felt like this with a woman. Like he didn't want to leave and find his own bed. He wasn't finished. He wasn't sure he'd ever be finished with Maggie, who was looking suddenly small and uncertain.

  She shivered as he dragged another towel off the rack and wrapped it around his hips. "Cold?"

  She shook her head, clutching the edges of her towel together in front of her. "Not anymore. You?"

  He shook his head, too, tracing her cheekbone with the back of one knuckle. "Scared?"

  She gave the barest of nods and closed her eyes against the kiss he pressed against her forehead. So was he, but he wasn't sure why. "C'mon. Let's get outta here."

  He pulled her against him and they walked into the bedroom together. Maggie slipped a pink chenille bathrobe on and knotted the belt around her waist. Cain came up behind her, brushed her damp hair aside and kissed the nape of her neck. "You sorry?" he asked.

  "No," she murmured, turning toward him to study his face. She didn't ask. She didn't have to.

  Outside the rain still beat against the window. He pulled her down onto the bed beside him, folding his arm over her and drawing her near. "You were … incredible."

  A disbelieving smile tugged at her mouth. "I bet you say that to all the girls."

  There was only one girl he'd ever said that to. But he couldn't think of Annie now. "It's been a long time for me, Maggie."

  She looked away, and he realized she didn't believe him. "Hey," he said, curling his fingers around hers. "I know you think something happened in Marysville the other night, but nothing did. I won't deny I went there with that intention, but it didn't happen. It was you I wanted, not some stranger. So I came back."

  Through a sweep of lashes, she looked up at him. "Our agreement—"

  "Screw the agreement," he said softly, brushing her hair off her cheek. "We're both adults. This is where it was headed all along. You knew it and I knew it."

  "Maybe so," she admitted, wrapping her arms around herself.

  He tucked her against him. "It's not that complicated."

  "No?"

  He was silent for a few moments. "Is it?"

  Maggie brushed back her damp hair with two hands. She knew very well how complicated this would get. "Today. Right now, maybe not. But it will be in October. It won't be simple then."

  "October will come," he said, "whether we're … breaking our agreement or not." He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. "I won't lie to you Maggie. I told you how it was with me. Nothing's changed. Don't expect—"

  "I don't," she said, not wanting to hear what he felt compelled to remind her. "I don't expect anything from you. That's not why this happened."

  He tightened his arms around her, his thumb caressing her breast through the thick chenille fabric. "Maggie," he whispered, "are you sorry you did this? Because if you are—"

  She covered his hand before he could move it. "I've spent too much time being sorry for things I can't control to be sorry about something I could. I wanted to make love to you. I don't want to think about October. I don't want to think about anything right now except how much I want you to hold me."

  Maggie sighed as he pulled her closer and tucked her head beneath his chin. She didn't regret it. But unlike him, she knew someday she would. Someday he would get on that motorcycle of his and ride out of her life the same way he'd ridden into it. And she would stand here and watch him go. But she'd allowed too much of her life to get away from her to let this moment go, as well. She would drink in what he had to offer her now and worry about October then.

  "There is one thing though," be began awkwardly. "Like I said, it's been a long time since I've worried abou
t … I should have used something," he said, caressing the back of her head.

  "I can't have children."

  His hand went still. "What?"

  Maggie rolled away from him. "I can't get pregnant."

  "You and Ben—?"

  "We couldn't conceive. They couldn't find the problem, but Ben was tested. It wasn't him. Finally, we just stopped trying." She pushed away from him. "I don't want to talk about Ben now," she said, sitting up.

  "Me either." He followed her to the edge of the bed. "No ghosts. Right?"

  "Right."

  "So…" He tugged her down into his arms and she gasped with surprise. "Here's my plan."

  She relaxed against him with a smile. "What plan?"

  "I distract you—" he dropped his mouth down on hers "—until you can only—" and kissed her until the heat began to coil inside her again "—think about—" and she felt her will melt away "—me."

  "Mmm…" she murmured when he'd finished, "that is distracting. But I'm still not sure I'm completely—"

  He slid his hand between her bathrobe and her skin, finding the curve of her breast.

  "Oh…" she sighed. "Well…"

  A slow, sexy smile worked at his mouth. "Better?" he asked, nudging her bathrobe open with his wrist. His thumb coaxed her nipple to attention and sent a shiver of pleasure through her.

  "Mmm," she said with a sigh. "You're very good at this."

  "I'm just getting started," he promised, moving south and finding the damp warmth he'd left only minutes ago.

  Maggie sucked in a breath and shuddered. He watched her the way a hungry man watched for a pot to boil as he dipped his fingers in and out of her. She arched against his hand. He was a magician, and with each stroke, he drew her out like a long, colorful ribbon and wrapped her around him.

  She glided her hands over him and followed her touch with her mouth. His skin felt hot and damp, his muscles hard and coiled. And the rest of him, lower down, that was hard and coiled, too. She urged him closer and he nudged her legs apart until he was inside her again. Sprawled together, wrapped around each other, they moved with the frantic pace of lovers. He sent her spinning out of control and plunged into the whirlpool with her. Maggie held him until he collapsed on top of her, as full and as spent as she.