by Amii Lorin
A thrill slid down the length of Selena’s spine, then shot back to her neck like a bolt of heat lightning. Luke wasn’t pulling his punches, and she determined that she wouldn’t fudge, either. “I know,” she said, meeting his drilling stare over the rim of her glass. Feeling a sudden need for fortification, she drained the wine before continuing, “And you may as well know that, before leaving Alpine this morning, I decided to take you for my first lover.”
Her bald statement stopped Luke’s mental train in its tracks. His thoughts fractured, shooting out in several directions at once.
First lover?
The phrase revolved inside his rattled mind. What did she mean by “first lover”? Surely she wasn’t a...? Nah, he thought, dismissing the idea. If he was any judge at all, Selena had to be pushing thirty. Beyond her age and by her own admission, Selena had been working on one or another river for some years, thrown into the company of a variety of different men. The situation didn’t lend itself to celibacy.
So, scratch the first business.
But—lover?
A delicious tingle danced on the surface of Luke’s body, while a near-painful tightness invaded his in-sides. Selena had said that she had decided to take him for her lover. His thoughts condensed into one overriding question.
When?
It required every ounce of control Luke possessed to keep himself from leaping up, grabbing her by the hand and sprinting back to the hotel. Instead, suddenly drier than the Texas desert, he chugged his beer and motioned to the waitress for refills.
What was he thinking?
Wishing for another drink to ease the sudden parched feeling in her throat, Selena watched the man seated opposite her, searching his expressionless face. Luke didn’t reveal a hint of what he was thinking or feeling.
The noise level around them was intense. Laughter, animated conversation and merriment abounded. Music blared from inside as well as outside the establishment. Selena didn’t hear any of it. All her concentration was centered on the silent man she had just invited to be her lover.
Lover.
Selena shivered. Was she crazy or what? He probably thought she was at best, forward, and at worst, easy.
The waitress delivered fresh drinks. Selena pounced on hers like her very life depended upon the chilled wine. Without the liberating spirit, she wasn’t certain that she’d have the nerve to go through with her invitation.
The silence lengthened between them, stretching Selena’s nerves to the twitching stage. Her glass was empty, her mind was empty, her body was a mass of quivering sensations.
Disjointed thoughts ricocheted through her head, making her even more uneasy.
Why didn’t Luke say something—anything?
Why had she started this?
Why didn’t she take to the hills?
“Why are you so uptight?”
Selena’s body jerked at the low sound of Luke’s voice. She blinked, swallowed, then blinked again. After waiting forever for him to comment, she didn’t know how to respond now that he had. “Ah...” She cleared her throat and raked her mind for a coherent reply. Her mind was dry—and so was her throat. “I...er, I’d like another drink, please.”
His smile should have been registered with the authorities as a lethal weapon, and his dark eyes sent messages that would have been banned in Boston. Luke raised his hand to catch their waitress’s attention. “Relax, Selena,” he murmured in a sexy drawl. “There’s no reason for you to be anxious. We’re going to be very good together.”
“Or very bad.” Clapping a hand over her mouth, Selena stared at him in wide-eyed disbelief. Had she actually blurted her thought aloud? The sudden flare of desire leaping in his eyes, his burst of soft laughter, gave her the discouraging proof that she had.
“I think I like your assessment better.” He raised his beer can in a silent salute tossing back the remaining contents. And not a moment too soon, as the waitress arrived at the table to deposit fresh drinks.
Concentrating on appearing casual, Selena picked up her glass and brought it to her lips. The cool wine trickled down her throat and went straight to her head. A rosy glow enveloped her. Her eyelids grew heavy. Observing Luke through mellowed vision, she felt a curl of excitement deep inside at the movement of his mouth as he talked to the waitress. His mouth was so alluring in its unrelenting, clean, masculine line. But then, she mused fuzzily, everything about the entire six feet odd inches of him was appealing. And not only to her, apparently.
Narrowing her eyes, Selena shifted her attention to the smiling, flustered waitress. What had Luke said to make the woman preen like a peacock? She gathered her wits to focus on their exchange.
What Selena heard sent a tremor down her spine. Luke had asked for the check—which meant he wouldn’t be ordering any more drinks—which meant they would be leaving the cabaret when their drinks were finished—which meant they would be going back to the hotel—which meant...
Selena took a deep swallow from her glass.
“Hey, Green Eyes, take it easy.” Luke’s tone was teasing. “You don’t want to risk drowning the inner fire—do you?”
Staring into the blazing depths of his eyes, Selena slowly shook her head. “No.” With the murmured admission came the realization that it was true. She didn’t want to drown the inner fire. The wine had performed its duty. With each successive sip, she had felt her inhibitions fall away, exposing the essence of her womanhood, revealing every deeply buried desire. And she desired Luke with every fiber of her being. Defenseless against her sudden need of him, she was beyond concealing it from him. “No,” she repeated in a voice made husky by passion. “I don’t want to drown the fire.”
A hissing sound accompanied Luke’s indrawn breath. He went still, staring at her, her eyes, her mouth, her flushed soft skin. Then he moved. Scraping back his chair, he surged to his feet and held out his hand to her. He didn’t say a word—words were unnecessary.
Selena carefully set her glass on the table before sliding her palm over his. The touch was light, the friction electrifying. Willing to follow wherever he might lead, she went to his side.
As they stepped off the porch and onto the River Walk, Luke curled his arm around her waist. Without hesitation, she reciprocated. In silent accord, they strolled arm in arm to the hotel.
The combined effects of too little rest and too much wine caught up to Selena in the hotel elevator. She blinked and stifled a yawn. Her eyelids began to droop as she paced beside Luke along the corridor to her room. She tightened her grip around his waist. Her eyes drifted shut as he inserted the key in the lock. Surrendering, she sighed and snuggled into the curve of his neck.
“Are you all right?” Luke’s warm breath caressed her cheek—and her sensibilities,
“Yes,” she whispered, then moaned “No.”
His arm tightened. The door swung open. His voice held comforting concern. “What’s wrong?”
Selena roused herself enough to turn her pouting mouth up to him. “I need a kiss.”
He met her demand with immediate action. Drawing her into the room, Luke slammed the door and swept her around into his arms. His mouth captured her parted lips, while his hands molded her soft curves to his own hard angles. With gentle manipulation, he pried her lips farther apart with his. His tongue speared into her mouth. She felt the piercing sweetness in the core of her femininity.
A confusing mixture of weakness and strength shimmered through Selena. Raising her arms, she encircled his taut neck, then clung to him to keep from folding like a fan and collapsing onto the floor.
“Selena.”
He groaned her name into her mouth. She heard it with inflamed senses, and responding to the unspoken plea, she tentatively stroked his tongue with the tip of her own. The touch affected Luke like a blast from a torch. The muscles in his arms flexed convulsively, crushing her against him. His mouth plundered hers. He began to move, slowly, inexorably, toward the bed.
Although her legs moved in step
with him, Selena didn’t feel the floor beneath her feet. She was floating. The sensation was heady, exciting. A light jolt brought her down to earth when the back of her legs made contact with the foot of the bed. He lifted his mouth from hers. She murmured a throaty protest and opened her eyes.
“I’m sleepy.”
“No, you’re not” Luke’s lowered voice was a feral growl. His hands tugged the blouse from the waistband of her skirt. An instant later, the garment skimmed over her head and into the air, forgotten before it landed in the corner. The cool air bathed her flushed torso.
“I’m not?” She shivered, not from the air conditioning, but in response to his palms stroking her bare skin. Following an impish urge, she outlined his mouth with the moist tip of her tongue. “What am I then?”
Luke’s breath came in harsh, uneven gasps. “You’re beautiful, playful and sexy as hell.” His fingers found the front clasp of her strapless bra and released it with one expert movement. The fabric fell away and he filled his hands with her warm, vibrant flesh. “And you’re driving me crazy.”
Sexy as hell? Her? Selena was enchanted with the idea. Her unpleasant experiences with men had led her to believe that all her natural sensuality had been extinguished. Had she been wrong? Testing, she set her fingers to work on the buttons of his shirt. Luke assisted her, shrugging it from his shoulders when the last of the buttons were free. She touched him. His skin was warm, surprisingly smooth, and she felt the reflexive tremor that rippled through his body.
“God, Selena, I want you!” His fingers released the button at the waist of her skirt. It slid unnoticed to the carpet. “I can taste the wanting.”
Encouraged by his confession, she lowered her head to his chest, and his wiry hair there tickled her nose. She inhaled. His special scent clouded her mind. “I’d rather you tasted me,” she admitted, pressing her lips to his salty-flavored skin. “You taste...”
“Good?” he asked when she hesitated.
“Erotic,” she whispered, closing her lips around one flat male nipple.
Luke groaned.
Selena laughed.
“Selena.” Grasping her around the waist, Luke pressed her down until she was seated on the very edge of the bed. Then, to her amazement, he dropped to the floor in front of her. Kneeling between her parted thighs, he cupped her aching breasts and lowered his head to bury his face in the perfume-scented valley. Pressing against her, he took her back and down to the mattress.
“Luke.” Selena was on fire, burning with a desire she understood on an intellectual level, but had never before experienced in a physical sense. Obeying ancient dictates, she reached for the clasp on his jeans. The zipper made a jagged, whirring noise in the quiet room. “I want...”
“I know.” Leaning back, away from her, he helped her yank the pants and underbriefs over his clenched buttocks and down his passion-hardened flanks. “I want, too.” Surging forward, he arched his body into hers.
Selena welcomed his advance with enfolding, silken thighs. But a tiny triangle of satin held firm against his invasion. Through her panties, she could feel the power of him. The sensation drove her wild. She reached for the lace-covered elastic connecting the swatches of cloth, but Luke was faster, surer. The elastic snapped. The triangle fell to the bed.
“Now.” His voice was hoarse.
“Yes.” Her voice was nearly nonexistent.
Drawing a breath, Luke clasped her hips, raised her from the mattress and thrust forward—into virgin territory.
The pain was not unexpected, but shocking nonetheless. Selena was unable to smother an involuntary outcry or control the stiffening of her body.
“Selena?” Fused and frozen within her, Luke stared down at her in astonished disbelief
Her eyes were closed and she didn’t answer. She was too busy concentrating on taking slow, regular breaths.
“Selena!” Impatience tinged his concerned tone.
She drew a final long, deep breath. The pain was gone. The tension eased from her body. But the heat remained. “Yes?” She opened her eyes and smiled at him.
“You’re a virgin!”
Her smile curved into an enticing line. A gleam lit her eyes. “Not anymore.”
“But—” he began.
Selena silenced him by lifting her hands to clasp his face. Wantonly, she drew his mouth to hers. “No buts,” she whispered against his lips. “It’s time for us to be very good and very bad...together.”
Chapter Seven
“Believe it or don’t!”
Selena tossed a wry look at her companion. “Believe it or don’t?” she repeated in a matching wry tone.
The teasing smile curving Luke’s mouth and gleaming in his eyes shot straight to her senses. Luke’s mouth. Hunger caused a hollow feeling inside her, a clawing emptiness unrelated to food. Positive her craving was blatantly evident to him, she returned her gaze to the building bearing the large sign he had jokingly misquoted. The sign read: Plaza Theater of Wax and Ripley’s Believe It Or Not.
They were standing on the sidewalk near the attraction located directly across the wide boulevard from the Alamo. It was still early and the famous shrine was not yet open to the public. But the tourist attraction, billed as the Ultimate Adventure, had just opened for business.
“Have you been in to see it?” Luke spoke close to her ear, sending a warm wave of awareness crashing through her.
“No.” Her braid swung back and forth as she shook her head, reminding her of the dexterous motion of Luke’s fingers as he’d plaited her hair earlier that morning. Even now, over three hours later, the memory retained the power to set her senses leaping in anticipation.
“Well,” he said when it became obvious that she wasn’t going to elaborate. “Would you like to see it?”
Reacting to the effervescent feeling flowing through her, Selena slanted a grin at him. “Believe it or not...I would. Would you?”
Luke volleyed the grin back to her. “It’s here. I’m here. Why not?” Stepping forward, he pulled the door open and with an exaggerated sweep of his arm, ushered her inside.
They decided to do the wax museum first. It was divided into three sections, consisting of a Hollywood section, a horror section and a history section.
Hands clasped, they ambled through the exhibition, exchanging impressions of the wax scenes with the ease of old friends and confidants.
“I saw that silent movie on TV!” Selena exclaimed, staring in delight at a scene from The Phantom of the Opera. “That wax figure is incredible. It looks exactly like Lon Chancy did in the film.”
“It does, at that,” Luke agreed, tugging on her hand to keep her moving. “There’s Duke,” he said a moment later, tilting his head to study the scene depicting John Wayne as he had appeared in the role of Hondo. “I had a severe case of hero worship for Wayne when I was a kid.”
“Didn’t everyone?” Selena asked. She was somehow positive that the tough, individualistic characters John Wayne portrayed had appealed to the strength of Luke’s own budding personality.
He smiled at her. “You liked him too, huh?”
“Sure,” she admitted. “Wayne and Gary Cooper and Gregory Peck and him.” She inclined her head to indicate the imposing wax figure of Charlton Heston attired in the garb of a Roman, standing tall and victorious in a chariot. “And then, of course,” she went on as they moved along, “Clint Eastwood entered the fold.” She gave Luke a sparkling, revealing glance. “I always was a pushover for the strong, silent type.”
“You!” he exclaimed, laughing. “Selena, you are the last woman I’d describe as being a pushover.”
“It’s true, though, in a way,” she insisted, continuing on to the next display.
She had been a virgin, which proved Luke’s point. On the other hand, Selena suddenly understood why she had felt such an immediate strong attraction to him. From the moment she had walked into the tour office to find him propped against the counter, Luke had appeared to be the living representa
tion of her childhood heroes. And it hadn’t been the actors she admired as much as the personality traits of the characters they portrayed.
With startling clarity, Selena realized that she was still a pushover for the strong, silent type—the rare breed that was quiet but self-reliant, confident, competent, dependable, larger than life. And, until Luke appeared on the scene, her virginity and emotions had been safe because she had believed her secret concept of the ideal man was merely the stuff of dreams and fantasies.
“You seem to personify every quality I have ever admired in the characters these actors played on the screen,” she told Luke.
He reacted to her remark without a hint of warning or sound. Releasing her hand, he slid one arm around her waist and drew her into the shadowed corner of a display, out of sight of the people trailing several yards behind them. Before Selena could even gasp in surprise, he pulled her into his arms and crushed her mouth with his.
The world tilted, her mind spun off into space and Selena was immediately flung back in time, to the darkness of the night and the hours of their wild, sweet loving.
* * * *
“It’s time for us to be very good and very bad... together.”
The results of Selena’s enticing invitation had been breathtaking, shattering in intensity.
Luke literally sprang to life, Selena felt the power of him leap deep within her body. Excitement shimmered through her as, emitting a low, hungry growl, he claimed her mouth and her body, with his. His plundering tongue reflected the motion of his more complete possession of her.
His hands were everywhere, seemingly at once— in her hair, on her face, encircling her throat, cupping her breasts, stroking her thighs, cradling her hips.
Sensation topping sensation, freeing her mind, releasing inhibitions, Selena clung to him, arched for him, moved with him as, driving, driving, Luke propelled his magnificent body deeper, ever deeper, straining in an agony of pleasure toward the ultimate sensual experience.
