And then that revelation faded as she twirled around and gasped in breathless shock to find him standing less than five feet away, watching her. Her face flushed pink, and instead of the embarrassment he'd expected, her eyes turned a dark, velvet shade of blue. The color of desire and passion.
He blinked lazily, and allowed a rakish grin to tip the corner of his mouth. "Don't stop on my account." He heard the deep, male nuances of arousal in his voice, despite his casual tone.
With a beguiling smile, she stepped into the living room, grabbed the remote for his CD player, and pressed the Repeat button to play the last song again. He thought she planned to give him another provocative show, but instead of gyrating those hips for his sale pleasure, she turned and held out her hand to him.
"I've got a better idea," she said, meeting his gaze steadily. "Why don't you join me?"
A deliberate dare, an irresistible challenge, one he was fully prepared to accept because he knew that everything that had been building and growing between them for the past year had led to this moment. Shrugging out of his sports coat and tossing it onto the couch, he closed the distance between them. He gathered her in his arms, nudged a thigh between hers, and pulled her flush against his hard length until the only thing separating them was the one inch of space between their parted hips.
But she didn't kiss him, and he didn't kiss her- though not for a lack of desire. If tonightwas the night, it belonged to Jessica, and she'd be the one to make the physical connection between them finally happen.
She seduced him in subtle ways. To the alluring beat of the music, she teased him with the erotic brush of her body along his, tempted him with the crush of her full breasts against his chest. He followed her lead, tantalizing her with the stroke of his hands along her lithe hips, her bottom, and along the backs of her thighs encased in form-fitting black leggings.
She closed her eyes on a soft moan and moved rhythmically, sensually, against his muscular thigh. He clasped her hips tighter, dragged her closer, increasing the friction and pressure until her breathing hitched, an unmistakable sign that a climax was imminent.
The music stopped, and so did Ryan, leaving Jessica on edge and just as aroused and inflamed as he was. Her lashes fluttered open, and there it was in the depth of her eyes, the complete and total acquiescence he'd been waiting for since that afternoon in his bathtub when she'd asked him to make love to her. Now, the request wasn't necessary, because the moment wasright, and she was ready for it to happen.
She knew it as well as he did.
Without words, she ran her palm down his arm to his hand, and entwined their fingers. Then, with Rod Stewart singing "You're In My Heart, You're In My Soul," he followed her upstairs to his bedroom. He shut the door behind them, not wanting anything to intrude on their first time together, nor did he intend to share his bed with anyone but Jessica. Camelot would have to find other lodgings for the night.
He turned on the bedside lamp, wanting to see everything… the unveiling of Jessica's supple curves, her incredible blue eyes when he finally came inside her, and her expression when he revealed just how deeply his feelings for her ran.
There wasn't a hint of modesty about her now, just a feminine confidence he'd spent the past month cultivating. His patience had been worthwhile, because he wouldn't accept anything less than her full surrender. Easing his warm hands beneath the hem of the sweater she wore, he slowly skimmed along her sides as he pulled the top up and over her head, then let it drop to the floor as his gaze discovered a delightful surprise… a flesh-tone, stretch-lace, low-cut bra that lifted and shaped her breasts.
He lifted a brow in teasing inquiry, boldly traced the scalloped edge of the bra that dipped into very enticing cleavage, and watched her nipples tighten for him. "What's this?"
She drew a breath that made those full, perfect mounds of flesh quiver. "I've taken a liking to pretty lingerie."
Smiling, he skimmed his finger down her abdomen, to the waistband of her leggings. "You know you turn me on in your cotton underwear, but I like the way this looks on you. And it makes me wonder what you're wearing beneath these pants." In time, he'd find out.
But first things first. Reaching behind her, he unclasped the hooks of her bra, then eased the straps off her shoulders until the lacy garment joined her sweater on the floor. Because words eluded him, he groaned to express his appreciation of what he'd revealed, then he lowered his head andshowed her. Burying his face between her lush breasts, he inhaled her scent, then lapped his warm, wet tongue over the full slopes, grazed his teeth over the tight crests. On a startled gasp, she fisted her hands in his hair and let him taste his fill of her.
It was only the beginning. Slipping his hands into the waistband of her leggings, he dragged the stretchy fabric down her slender legs, and moved his mouth lower, too, kissing her smooth, silky belly, the insides of her thighs, and lingered there as she stepped from her pants. Then he took in the matching, lacy, beige panties she wore, and couldn't resist pressing a hot, openmouthed kiss to the satin covering her mound. She moaned, and trembled, and before he gave in to the urge to indulge in a more intimate exploration, he straightened to his full height, toed off his shoes, and pulled off his socks.
The rest was up to her.
He spread his hands in front of him. "I'm all yours, sweetheart," he said, meaning it in more ways than the obvious.
Grabbing his tie, she wrapped the strip of silk around her fist, drawing him closer. She cast him an upswept glance, full of sass and feminine wiles… and just the barest hint of vulnerability. "How can you tell if a lawyer is well hung?"
Before he could recover from his surprise at her question, she replied with, "You can't fit a finger between the rope and his neck."
His mouth quirked with amusement, but he wasn't about to let her retreat or hide behind her brand of humor. Not here and not now. "There's another way to tell if he's well hung," he said, and guided her free hand to the fierce erection straining the front of his trousers.
Dampening her bottom lip with her tongue, she squeezed the length of him, stroked him through his pants until he groaned, shuddered, and had to grab her wrist to halt her caresses.
"Veryimpressive, counselor." She tugged him closer with her grip on his tie, and settled her mouth over his, drugging him with her deep, leisurely kiss.
He let her set the pace, knowing his turn would come later. She proceeded to undress him, taking her time stripping off each article of clothing until he was completely naked. Then, starting at his neck and traveling south, she explored his hard, hot skin with the glide of her palms, her soft lips, and the wet warmth of her tongue until his breathing grew ragged, his body throbbed with need, and his control and restraint teetered on the verge of snapping. He had to stop her, or he wasn't going to last.
"Jessica…" he groaned her name, and threading his fingers through her silky hair, he drew her up against his body and slanted his mouth across hers, tasting the salty, musky essence of him on her tongue. As one kiss inevitably, enticingly melted into another, he guided them toward his bed, until the backs of her thighs met the mattress.
Reluctantly, he let her go, knowing he needed to put on protection while he was still able to think with a semblance of clarity. As she settled on the bed, and he moved away, an uncertain look passed over her features, as if she thought,believed, that he was leaving her. As if he ever could.
"Give me a sec," he rasped, and opened the nightstand drawer to grab a condom.
She lay back against the pillows, watching him though lashes that had fallen to half-mast. Her lips were pink and swollen, her hair tousled around her face, and her lithe body was flushed with feminine desire. She looked so incredibly inviting, so sensual, that he had a difficult time concentrating on his task.
Finally, he managed the deed, and the brief separation from Jessica gave him the reprieve he needed to continue things slowly. She smiled at him as he climbed onto the bed, and she went to remove her lacy panties-the only
barrier between them-until he stopped her.
"I want to take themoff," he said huskily. But first, he lavished attention on her breasts, curling his tongue along her nipples, taking her deeply into his mouth until she shivered beneath him. His lips tasted her belly, the curve of her waist, while his fingers found the waistband of her panties and slowly drew them down her slender hips, over her mound, and left them tangled around her thighs for a moment, which restricted the spread of her legs to only a few inches.
She whimpered, the sound filled with frustration. Her hand slid along his shoulder, then curled around the nape of his neck, urging him toward the very heart of her. His mouth followed the path he'd bared, the one she dictated, until her heady, aroused scent filled his every breath. A raw, primitive hunger shot straight to his groin, and he gave in to the instinctive need raging within him. Tucking his chin between her confined thighs, he delved his tongue between her softly swelled flesh and found the sensitive nub hidden within. She gasped and writhed, but he kept her hips pinned to the mattress as he stroked, suckled, and lost himself in the sweetness of her response.
Then, her climax hit. Her back arched and she cried out, loud and unabashed, and before the convulsions rippling through her ebbed, he had her panties stripped off and was kneeling between her legs, his own breathing labored. Hooking his fingers beneath her knees, he dragged her down so she lay flat on the mattress and her spread thighs draped over his, the tip of his erection teasing her glistening, slick folds.
At that moment he looked into her velvet blue gaze, and the acceptance he saw there arrested him, made his heartbeat quicken and his chest fill with a multitude of emotions that humbled him, and made him wonder, for a split second, if he could be everything Jessica needed him to be. Strong. Reliable. A man who could promise her forever.
He could be, if shelet him.
And then the fleeting thought receded as Jessica whispered invitingly, "Come inside me, Ryan."
Unable to deny either one of them what they both wanted, he settled his body over hers until they were face to face, guided himself into the hot, liquid center of her, and filled her with one fluid thrust She gasped sharply, and he groaned deep in his throat at the sweet, tight clenching of her body.
He'd primed her well, yet she was incredibly snug, and the erotic rush of it nearly had him unraveling. With effort, their labored breaths mingling, he moved his hips, withdrawing and surging back into her slowly, feeling her soften around him, beneath him. As she adjusted to the fit of him, her expression turned rapturous. He savored the languorous drift of her hands down his spine, the instinctive way she lifted her hips and wrapped her legs around the back of his thighs to allow him deeper still.
She'd given him her body, and there was only one other place he needed to be. In her heart.
Burying himself to the hilt in one long, smooth stroke, he stilled over her, his pulse racing erratically. He tangled his fingers into the hair at the side of her face, making sure that he had her complete and total attention. She gazed up at him, a sultry smile on her lips, her eyes hazy with passion.
"I love you, Jessica," he said, his voice unmistakably clear.
He felt her tense, saw the panic and denial that flashed across her features, and wasn't surprised at her reaction. While he'd had time to come to terms with his feelings, she'd only had a few seconds. And he didn't expect her to return the declaration, only knew that she needed to hear the words, and believe in them.
With a gentleness that belied his body's need for release, he lowered his head and kissed her, and then shedid surprise him, opening her mouth wide beneath his and responding with a greed and urgency that shot his plan for tenderness to hell.
A sense of desperation cloaked her, made her as wild and tempestuous as a summer storm… and all he could do was ride the intense waves of pleasure consuming them both. She reached the crest with a shattering cry, and he followed, surrendering to the hot, carnal flames of his own explosive climax.
* * *
Ilove you.
Curling up in the old, soft, comforting chair in her living room, Jessica swiped at the tears lingering on her cheeks, acknowledging the words that had haunted her all night long. The same words she'd whispered to a sleeping Ryan in a tight, aching voice just before she'd slipped from his bed in the early-morning hours before dawn.
Not only had she snuck out on him, but she'd left the key to his house on the nightstand, along with a hastily written note that she'd see him tonight at the party. Her manner of leaving said what she couldn't put into words-she was ending their affair. After the New Year's Eve party they'd revert to the friendly acquaintances they'd been before.
He wasn't going to be happy to find her gone, or with the cowardly way in which she'd executed her departure-a move born of pure self-preservation, because in that moment when he'd declared his love, she'd finally accepted that she'd fallen for Ryan Matthews deeper than she'd ever intended. And although it was too late to protect her emotions, she could still safeguard what was left of her heart, which hurt as it had never hurt before.
She swallowed back another well of tears and rubbed her hand along the chair's armrest. Without a doubt, she'd wanted Ryan. She'd wanted last night with every fiber of her being. So she'd selfishly taken from him when she'dknown she couldn't give back-because openly loving him, trusting him with her future, was a heartbreaking combination. It was a harsh lesson taught to her by her father and backed up by her short-lived relationship with Lane. And with Ryan's career being his foremost priority, along with his profession contradicting her need for stability and security, she couldn't depend on him to be there in the long run. By his own admittance, long-term relationships weren't his forte, and she wasn't willing to be the casualty of a failed experiment.
So, she was cutting her losses, letting him go, and taking with her all the glorious, wondrous memories he'd given her. It didn't compare to the real feel of being held in his arms, hearing his deep laughter, or seeing the sexy gleam in his eyes as he attempted to seduce her with one of his erotic shenanigans. She'd never be able to look at a cake without remembering hisslippery, sensual, erotic promise, which he'd more than fulfilled last night. And taking a bath would be an excruciating reminder of how much fun and pleasure he'd shown her when a couple shared the experience.
She drew a deep, shuddering breath, knowing she'd miss him, knowing she'dnever regret what they'd shared.
A loud pounding on her door made her jump and jostled her back to the present. She'd known this confrontation was coming, and though she'd resigned herself to facing him, she just hadn't expected the encounter to be atsix o'clockin the morning.
"Dammit, Jessica," he said, his deep, gruff voice muffled through the door separating them. "I know you're in there so open up. I'm not leaving until we talk."
She wouldn't expect him to. He wasn't a coward as she'd been. Ryan wanted answers, an explanation, and since he'd been nothing but sincere with her, he deserved her honesty in return. And maybe, if she was lucky, once their discussion was over he'd understand her position and they'd be able to part as friends.
He pounded on the door again, making the whole apartment seem to shake with the wrath that stood out in the hallway. Before he could wake her neighbors, she unlocked and opened her door, feeling surprisingly calm after having had two hours to purge herself of her tears and misery.
He brushed past her into the living room, then stopped, jammed his hands on his hips, andglared at her. Not only was he not happy, he wasfurious.
Judging by his appearance, she guessed he'd woken up, realized she was gone, and had grabbed the first article of clothing he'd come into contact with, which was the shirt and slacks he'd worn last night, now wrinkled from being tossed haphazardly to the floor. He'd been in such a hurry that he hadn't bothered to tuck in the tails, nor had he put on any socks. His dark hair was still tousled from her running her fingers through the strands last night, his unshaven jaw was clenched, and his eyes were dark, but rimmed
in a bright shade of gold that seared her straight to her soul.
Praying that he wouldn't hate her for what she had to do, for what she'd done, she closed the door, leaned against it, and waited for him to unleash the anger raging just below the surface.
The tempest didn't take long to erupt. He swept a hand in the air, his expression thunderous, showing her a very different side to the sexy, teasing, tender man she knew. "What the hell was that all about, you sneaking out in the middle of the night like I was some kind of one-night stand?"
Even though she knew his question was born of anger, she inwardly winced at his tawdry reference, when last night-the whole month they'd spent together-had been anything but a cheap tryst. The time with him had been magical, sensual, unforgettable.
And temporary.
"I'm sorry," she whispered around the tight knot of emotion in her throat, belatedly realizing the apology was inadequate for her departure, which had been instigated by pure panic.
She drew a breath and flattened her palms against the cool door. "I thought me leaving would be the easiest way to…"
"End things between us?" he finished for her.
The man was very perceptive, but she'd discovered that characteristic about him the past month, among others. "Yes."
"You thoughtwrong, Jessica," he said, his tone vibrating with resentment, and a deeper layer of hurt. "I don't take what we did last night lightly, not after wanting you for the past year. When I went to bed with you, when we madelove, I expected to wake up with you next to me. Instead, I find the key to my house, and a facsimile of a 'Dear John' letter on my nightstand."
The pressure in her chest felt near unbearable, but she lifted her chin and clung to her convictions. "I know I didn't handle this morning the best way-"
"No, you didn't," he interrupted heatedly, and slowly stalked toward her, a ruthless light in his eyes. "And I don't appreciate you making decisions for me when I'm capable of making them for myself."
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