by Jo Leigh
"Oh, God," he said.
"What's wrong?"
"You're so beautiful."
The words seemed to float over to her, buoyed by the shadows that danced on the walls. She believed him. Completely. Moving toward him, feeling his gaze on her, she wanted to say something appropriate, meaningful. She wanted him to know how much she cared about him, and how just knowing he was here gave her the courage to keep walking. But the words didn't come together. When she reached his side, and he tossed back the covers, the words didn't seem so important anymore.
She slid right next to him, until her side pressed against his. He covered her with the blanket, and then he moved his hand to hers and gave her a gentle squeeze. "Are you nervous?" she asked.
"A little," he said, but the way his voice cracked told her he wasn't being entirely truthful.
"I am, too," she admitted. "Sort of."
"We don't have to do anything."
"I know."
His hand moved, and she felt his thumb stroke her palm. It was a lovely, light touch.
"Do you want to?" she whispered.
"I do, if you do."
"I do," she agreed. "I think."
"You think?"
She nodded, finally gathering the courage to look at him. His concern for her was so obvious it made her chest tighten. He smiled, and she loved what that did to his face. It was a beautiful face, not just because of his classic good looks, but because it was full of kindness. Because it was filled with love.
"Tell you what," he said, releasing her hand. "Let's scoot down."
After they were lying flat, he sort of turned her on her side then he curled up behind her in the spoon position. His arm went around her waist and she could feel his warm breath on her neck. "We'll just lie here for a while," he suggested. "Well talk."
"I like this," she said, getting used to the feel of his body so close. His chest on her back. His arm gently squeezing her. Letting her know that he was in no rush to do the deed. Or maybe that he didn't want to do it at all. She felt a little disappointed, but not much. It was probably for the best. Actually, she felt relieved. The pressure was off, and she could relax.
But then she shifted… It took a minute to realize what pressed against her hip. She held her breath, making sure that what she felt was what she thought she felt.
Oh, yes. It was. He wasn't spooning because he didn't want her. It was because she'd hesitated.
Now she understood. His body had told her what his words couldn't. He wanted her. He was ready. But it was up to her to make the first move.
Now, she had to decide. All she had to do was reach down and touch him. Turn over and kiss him. She wanted to. Her body's reaction to him was a dead giveaway. The tightness in her stomach, the ache in her breasts. The way she needed to squeeze her legs together.
All systems were go. Everything was as perfect as it could be. Nothing was stopping her.
Except the fact that she knew, with all her heart, that this was completely wrong.
* * *
Chapter 8
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"What's wrong?"
Lee hadn't said a word. She hadn't moved, or even breathed, and yet Trevor had felt the difference. She didn't want to tell him, but he'd know anyway. "I'm not sure how to explain it," she said. "But I, uh, I'm not… Maybe we shouldn't…"
"Make love?"
"Uh-huh."
She waited for him to say something, but he didn't. She shifted her attention to his body, hoping she could read him as astutely as he'd read her. His hand didn't tighten on her waist, his legs didn't shift. And the most obvious sign of his willingness to move ahead didn't shrink. The only thing that changed at all was his breath on her neck. It slowed, and for a moment, it stopped all together. After several seconds, she felt him exhale.
"Are you mad at me?" she asked, praying she hadn't done irreparable damage with this crazy scheme. The trip up and the time they'd spent in the room had shown her more clearly than ever before that Trevor was the most important person in her life. Relationships come and go, but Trevor … he'd be hers forever, if she didn't screw things up.
"Of course not," he said. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little disappointed, but I'll get over it."
"Why?"
"Why will I get over it? Because I'm not twelve."
"No, that's not what I meant. Why are you disappointed?"
"Uh, isn't that, um, obvious?"
She felt him shift his hips, reminding her again that despite his very kind acquiescence, his body had been ready for takeoff when she'd pushed the abort switch. "I meant, are you disappointed because we're not having sex, or because you wanted the relationship to, you know, change?"
He grew still again, except for his hand. She felt it move on her waist, rubbing the satin nightgown in small circles just above her belly button. "Yes," he said.
"Yes?"
"I think it's a little late to deny I was looking forward to making love. But I'd also given the relationship thing a lot of thought. The idea of being with you, like this … knowing that we could be even closer. I don't know. It seemed like a good thing."
"What about the scary parts?"
"Yeah, I thought about those, too. But then I looked at the relationships I've had. The family I come from. Marriage only works for a tiny percentage of people, who obviously are born with some special sort of marriage gene. No way I got that. In my family, the only people who had any happiness at all were the ones who stayed single."
"I didn't realize there were any people in your family who'd stayed single."
"Yeah, I've got an aunt in Quebec who never married. Of course, she's a lesbian, and she's been with her partner for over ten years. Hey! Maybe that's the trick. I need to become a lesbian."
"You don't have the qualifications," Lee said, grinning.
"I can fake it."
"Some things you can't fake."
"Damn. I knew there had to be a catch."
She turned around, even though she hated to move from the incredibly comforting position. But she needed to see his face. To make sure things were okay. Once she'd settled, she lay just as close, but facing him, their heads both on the same pillow, their knees touching.
He smiled, and she felt better immediately. Grateful for the firelight, she could see he wasn't hiding anything. That he still loved her, even though she'd backed out at the last minute.
Trevor looked at her for a few seconds, his gaze traveling over her face patiently, as if he would be tested on the details. When he finished his perusal of her chin, he looked back up into her eyes. "There's something I want to say. Before we go back to the way we were."
"What's that?" she asked, her tummy tightening in apprehension. Or excitement. She wasn't sure which.
He reached up and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. The touch so light, it was more than a caress. Somehow, it was reverent, as if he meant to honor her.
She closed her eyes, soaking in the exquisite feel of his skin on hers. Fighting the quiver that started deep inside and spread to her most vulnerable spots.
"You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he whispered. "Not just because your face was made by angels, but because you make me feel so damn good. You make me laugh and you make me think. I'm more generous when I'm around you, and you've taught me not to take everything so damn seriously. But mostly, I think you're beautiful because you have the kindest heart in the world."
"Oh, Trev—"
"I'm not finished."
She looked at him, the tears in her eyes blurring his face, but not so much that she couldn't see the awesome tenderness in his gaze.
"I think making love to you would be as close to heaven as a man can get. But I also know that I'd rather cut off my own arm than do anything that would make you uncomfortable. The thing is, I love you, kiddo. I trust you."
She sighed, unable to speak for the lump in her throat. She touched the back of his head, then leaned over and kissed him gentl
y on the mouth.
The softness of his lips held her there.
His quiet moan made her deepen the kiss.
What happened to her insides changed everything.
Surrendering herself to the moment, to the rightness of her new decision, to the forces that drew her inexorably to his arms, she tasted him, using the tip of her tongue to tease his lips. He moaned again, this time in pleasure as he understood her intentions. He kissed her back, tasting her in return, moving closer, using his hand on her back to bring her to him. Then he hesitated, leaned back just enough to see her. "Are you sure?" he whispered, his voice low and gruff with desire.
"Completely," she whispered back. To show him that she meant it, she reached down below the covers, touched the front of his silk pajamas at his waist, then moved her hand down until she found his erection. She took her time exploring, not reaching inside his pajamas, just feeling the shape and the size of him.
It wasn't awkward at all. Not even for a second. The last of her doubts were swept away at that moment.
He closed his eyes and moaned once more, and she smiled, pleased beyond reason that he enjoyed her touch so much. That his reaction to her was so impressive.
It wasn't enough. She wanted more than to feel him through the material. She wanted to see him. To taste him. And more than anything, she wanted him inside her.
Her heart thudded in her chest as she slipped her fingers inside his pajamas and touched his heated flesh. Smooth as silk, hot as the fire, and hard as steel. So thick she could just circle him with her hand, and when she stroked him to the base, he grew even thicker.
"Oh, Lee, you can't know. It feels…"
"Tell me."
He looked at her with the passion in his gaze so electric she felt a jolt in her soul. "I'll show you," he whispered. He reached down and pulled her hand away, then he slipped out of bed, and took his pajamas off.
Lee's gaze lingered on his chest for a moment, at once so familiar and yet so new. So different now, knowing it was hers to kiss, to stroke. Then she looked down, to the part of him she'd never seen before. To the strong muscles of his lower stomach, the tight hips, and to his erection, so powerfully male it made her gasp.
She wanted him as she'd never wanted any man before. It was a totally unique experience, something she'd never anticipated, not even when she'd tried so hard to imagine this moment.
Her love for him swelled, matched only by her trust. She knew without hesitation that this incredible man would never hurt her. Never.
She tossed the covers back and moved closer to him. Looking up, she reveled in his beauty, and in his smile. Then she reached out once more to touch him, guiding him to her mouth.
He took in a sharp breath of air as her lips touched his silky head. Kissing him lightly, savoring his clean, masculine scent, she moved slowly, unwilling to rush any part of this. He hadn't let out his breath as she licked him in a circle, then took the crown in her mouth. As she flicked her tongue, sucking hard at the same time, he finally let his breath go, sending an almost painful groan with it.
She heard her name, soft and shaky. Gripping him with her hand, she pulled him into her mouth. Then with a steady rhythm that matched her heartbeat, she moved her tongue up and down the length of him. She pulled back, pausing to use the tip of her tongue, then moved down again, as far as she could go.
Her eyes fluttered closed as she moved to cup him from below, amazed at the uniqueness of his body, so incredibly different from her own, and so perfect.
He touched the back of her head, and for a moment she thought it was to encourage her, but then she realized he wanted her to stop. Puzzled, she pulled back, letting go with her hand and her lips.
"I want to see you," he said. "Please."
She nodded, then shifted her legs to the end of the bed so she could stand next to him. Reaching for the bottom of her nightgown, he held out his hand to stop her once more. His fingers took over, bunching the black satin in his large fists and lifting the material slowly upward.
She felt the cool air on her legs, and her thighs, and then her stomach. He paused, glancing down, then continued at the same measured pace.
When the bottom of the gown reached her breasts, she thought about how she'd been so worried an hour ago. Now, she realized all that fretting was for nothing. She wanted him to see her. Flaws and all. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered but this incredible closeness. They'd jumped off the cliff together, not knowing where they would land. Instead of a jarring crash, they'd found a soft cushion of love and wonder.
His sigh told her all she needed to know. That he loved the way she looked, just as she loved his body. She raised her arms and he lifted the gown the rest of the way, then tossed it on the end of the bed.
"You're stunning," he said. "More beautiful than I ever imagined."
She smiled, touched that he was looking into her eyes as he said the flattering words. "I feel pretty," she said.
"I'm glad. I just wish you could feel what I do. See what I see."
She touched his chest with the palm of her hand, then rubbed his soft skin, enjoying the contradiction created by hard muscles that lay beneath.
He kissed her, encircling her shoulders with both arms, bringing her close. Her hand stilled, caught between them, but she didn't care. His kiss took all her thoughts, and as she felt him tease her with his talented tongue, she had to squeeze her legs together to try to ease the insistent ache.
As if he'd read her mind, he broke the kiss and turned her so she could lie down. He followed, waited until she'd scooted to the middle of the mattress, then kissed her once more.
His hand found her breast and she shivered with that first touch. He cupped her gently, then ran his palm over her erect nipple. Just as the featherlight touch became unbearably sweet, he moved his mouth to the very same spot, taking her nipple between his teeth, sucking her flesh hard and sharp.
Her back arched, and her eyes closed. The sensation was overwhelming; so pleasurable it was almost too much. Almost. He toyed with her, using his tongue and his lips and his breath, each move more exquisite than the last. The pressure in her core built unbearably, the tension stiffened her body as if she'd been shocked by a hundred volts.
He let go of her right nipple, and found her left. He repeated his ministrations, only this time, knowing what she was in for, it was impossible to be still.
Her hips moved up and down on the bed, the unself-conscious prelude to what she wanted more than her next breath. She found his hand and guided it down so he could feel her body's reaction to his touch. His tongue stopped making the tiny little swirls on her nipple the moment he touched her. Stroking her softly, he parted her lips with his fingertips. Without a pause, he found the jutting flesh that so controlled her passion. Then the swirls began again, only this time, with his finger.
She moaned, drowning in a sea of pleasure. She was going to come, she could feel it start deep in her groin. His movements grew quicker, quicker, and then he stopped, and she cried out in dismay. As soon as she saw where he was, her objection changed to anticipation. He'd slipped silently down the bed. She'd been so caught up in her own sensations she hadn't even noticed.
She heard a soft rip, and saw that he'd gotten a condom packet. He took out the circle of thin rubber and then she closed her eyes.
A moment later, he lifted her legs gently, moving them apart as he got comfortable. His palms traced the insides of her thighs, and then his thumbs met at her juncture. Once more, he opened her, and his hot breath hit her only seconds before he captured her bud between his lips.
She cried out, grabbing the sheets and lifting them from the mattress. Her hips moved up and stayed there as he did unspeakably wonderful things with his tongue.
It started again, her climax. Deep inside, making her tense, making her insane. Her head shook from side to side. She stopped breathing. But he never stopped. The pressure increased as he narrowed his focus to that one tiny spot, and then she jerked with a climax t
hat rocked her body.
He stayed with her as tremor after tremor hit her. Then he stopped, sat up, captured her legs just below her knees, and she felt his thick heat surge inside her. She came a second time as he thrust home. He filled her completely, finally easing the ache that had threatened to drive her mad.
Lifting her legs to his shoulders, he angled down so he could enter her more fully. His hips slammed into her roughly, the energy behind them as feral and basic as primeval man, as urgent and powerful as a force of nature.
She opened her eyes to find him staring at her, unblinking, his face a mask of lust, his gaze so hot it scorched her. He never wavered, never glanced away. Just thrust into her over and over, the pace increasing as the tension in his body made the cords of his neck stand out.
Trembling, squeezing, she milked him, wanting to draw him deeper and deeper inside. He moved her legs around his waist and she clung to him with all her might.
He was going to come. She could see it in his face, feel it in his pulsing rhythm. She thought he was going to scream, but instead, he swept down and kissed her, hard. She kissed him back, waiting for his moment of release.
When it came, he cried out, but he didn't break the kiss. She felt the air from his lungs, the release of his energy, enter her like a shaft of white light which brought her to climax once more.
They came together. It lasted a long time. Wave after wave of jolting pleasure, of tightening and relaxing, only to tense again.
Finally, the earth slowed to its normal pace, leaving the two of them damp, bedraggled and utterly spent.
He finally broke the kiss. But before he moved away, he smiled, and it melted her heart. She'd never dared hope that it would be like this. Her imagination wasn't good enough.
This was so much more, it scared her.
* * *
Trevor eased onto his back trying to make his pulse slow and his breathing steady. He knew he had to go to the bathroom to clean up, but he couldn't move. Not yet. Every ounce of energy had drained away, and now that he was lying down, he thought it was very possible that he'd never move again.
