Safe in His Arms

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “I’m a little scared, too.” She stepped toward him. “But the closer you are, the less I’m afraid.” She rested her palms on his chest and felt the rapid beat of his heart.

  His voice was husky as he wrapped his arms around her. “Then I’d better stay real close.”

  “Yes, please,” she murmured. Holding his gaze, she began unfastening the snaps down the front of his shirt. “Otherwise, how can I undress you?”

  Excitement flashed in his eyes. “You want to do that?”

  “Very much.” She finished with the snaps and pulled the shirttails out. “Remember on hot mornings when we’d both get sweaty?” She stroked upward from his waistband, massaging his sculpted abs and muscled chest.

  He trembled beneath her fingertips. “I remember.” His gaze locked with hers. “I’d watch a trickle of sweat slide into your cleavage and wonder how I’d ever manage to keep my hands to myself.”

  “And I longed for you to take off your shirt so I could see these manly pecs.” She moved her hands in circles, loving the springy texture of his chest hair.

  “You could’ve asked. I would have been happy to oblige.”

  “You could have touched me. I would have been thrilled.”

  “Maybe, but I couldn’t make that move.”

  “You did today.” She traced the strong line of his collarbone.

  “I couldn’t think of any other way to keep you from being scared.”

  “It worked. And now see what you’ve done.” Reaching down, she unfastened his belt buckle. “I’m determined to have my way with you.”

  His throat moved in a slow swallow. “You know you’re driving me crazy with this slow undressing routine. How about if I just take off my own clothes? Then you can have your way with me that much faster.”

  “It’ll be more fun if I do it.” Grasping the waistband of his jeans, she gave him a nudge in the direction of her bed. “In fact, I like the idea of you flat on your back, helpless to stop me from seducing you.”

  “I’m already pretty damned helpless to stop you, no matter what position I’m in.”

  “Humor me, Adam. Lie on my bed and let me play seductress.”

  He smiled. “A guy would have to be stupid to pass up an invitation like that.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” She walked him backward. When he reached the edge of the mattress, he let her push him down. “Excellent.” She climbed onto the bed and leaned over him until her mouth was nearly touching his. “Prepare to be seduced.”

  “Valerie, sweetheart, I’m all yours.”

  * * *

  Adam had finally figured out what was going on. He might be a little afraid of his intense feelings for her, but she was really afraid. She hadn’t been intimate with a man since the fire, and obviously giving up control freaked her out.

  So he stretched out on the bed, his booted feet still on the floor, his shirt on but unfastened, and prepared for the sweet torture of having her work him over as his climax hovered ever nearer. After giving him a kiss involving lots of tongue, she moved on to his chest. He hadn’t thought his nipples were sensitive, but she proved him wrong about that.

  Breathing became a real challenge as she eased him out of his jeans and briefs. She only pushed them to his knees. He realized that was all the undressing she needed for her purposes. She’d effectively hobbled him by doing that, which might give her an even greater sense of being in control.

  When she wrapped her slender fingers around his cock, he didn’t much care whether he was hog-tied by his jeans and underwear. He just hoped to hell he wouldn’t come too fast. Between his lust for her and a long period of abstinence, he wasn’t ready to bet on his staying power.

  “You’re . . . magnificent.” Her comment was satisfyingly breathless.

  He could live with heartfelt comments like that. “Glad I pass muster.”

  “Oh, you do.” Still wearing her black bra and panties, she straddled his thighs while she caressed his pride and joy.

  “FYI, I have two condoms in my jeans pocket, right side.”

  She cupped his balls and massaged gently. “Is that a hint?”

  “Let’s call it a request.” He dragged in air. “Much more of touching me like that, and it’ll become a desperate plea. It’s been a long time, Val.”

  She smiled. “You called me Val. I like that.”

  “I’ll call you anything you want me to if you’ll grab one of those condoms.” He was trying to let her be in charge, but if she didn’t make a move soon . . . but he wouldn’t take over. That could be disastrous. She needed to direct the action.

  “Pretty soon.” With one last squeeze, she let go and reached behind her back. “I need to finish taking my clothes off.”

  He wanted to see her breasts. He did. He wanted to fondle them, too, and take them into his mouth. But sensory overload was a real danger in this situation.

  She slipped her bra free and flipped it backward onto the floor. “That’s better, don’t you think?”

  “Mm.” He wasn’t capable of coherent speech. The glory of her breasts beckoned to him. They hung there—full, round, and tipped with lush burgundy nipples. He reached for them.

  “Easy, cowboy.” She caught his wrists and leaned forward, pinning his arms to the bed as her breasts dangled inches from his mouth.

  “You’re diabolical.”

  “Just having fun.”

  “I dare you to give me a taste.” He easily could have wrenched free, but he’d agreed to play her game, so he let her tease him. If this made her feel safe, then he’d go along. He had to admit the novelty excited him, but sooner or later, he was going to explode, and he worried it would be sooner.

  “I never could resist a dare.” Dipping lower, she allowed him to capture one tight nipple in his mouth. As he sucked, he felt his orgasm shouldering its way closer. But she wasn’t immune to her needs, either. She moaned softly and rubbed the crotch of her panties against his thighs. The material was soaked.

  He increased the pressure as he drew her breast into his mouth. She began to pant. Good. This torture could work both ways. He wanted her to be as frantic as he was.

  Then maybe she’d abandon her need to control and surrender to the joy of the experience. He wanted that for her. He longed for her to trust him enough to let that happen.

  Raising up, she deprived him of the plump breast she’d offered, but when she scooted back to rummage in the pocket of his jeans, he nurtured the hope that she was ready for the main event. He lifted his head to check on her progress. His cock was stiff as a fence post. “Now? Please?”

  “Yes.” She maneuvered herself out of her panties and threw those to the floor, too. Then she ripped open the condom package. As she rolled the condom on, her fingers shook, but she got the job done.

  He gritted his teeth throughout the procedure. Coming in the midst of her condom application would not be cool. He was determined to last until she had an orgasm. She’d thrown down a gauntlet with her fooling around, and he was as competitive as the next guy.

  But as she rose over him, he realized that sex was not supposed to be a competition. Or a battle for control. She’d turned it into one, and somehow, some way, he wanted to change that.

  Then her warmth slowly enveloped him, and he lost whatever reasoning power he’d had left. As she sank downward, he lifted up, drawn in by the most perfect connection he’d ever had with a woman. So good. So incredibly good.

  He gazed at her, hoping to see that same sense of homecoming in her expression. Her eyes were closed. Damn it, was she going to hide from him now? “Valerie,” he murmured.

  She shook her head and didn’t open her eyes.

  “Don’t hide from me.”

  “I’m afraid to let go.”

  “Come here.” He gripped her shoulders and tried to pull her to him.

  “N
o.”

  But she was starting to contract around him, in spite of herself. He could feel it and knew that he wouldn’t be able to resist those rhythmic pulses. “You’re going to come,” he said. “Let it happen.”

  “No. No!” And yet she erupted, and when she did, he couldn’t hold back. With a groan, he surged upward. Their mutual climax should have been a moment of triumph, a moment of joy. Instead, as he shuddered in the aftermath, all he felt was despair. She didn’t trust him, after all.

  Then, like some cosmic joke, her smoke alarm went off. The minute it did, he knew what must have happened. She’d started supper, and it was burning on the stove.

  With a shriek, she leaped from the bed and ran into the kitchen. He followed as soon as he rid himself of the condom and pulled up his briefs and jeans. The kitchen was filled with steam. She’d grabbed both pans, dumped them in the sink, and sprayed water on them.

  The smoke alarm continued to screech. Adam grabbed a towel from a rack on the wall and waved it at the alarm, which gradually sputtered to a stop. He tried to tell himself this wasn’t a disaster, but he knew it was.

  Valerie turned to him, her expression stricken. “I guess I’m not ready, Adam. I’m so sorry.”

  “It takes time.” His heart ached for her. “Don’t give up on the basis of—”

  “I know it’s cowardly of me, but . . . I want you to leave.”

  He took it like a shot to the gut. “Don’t do this. Let’s open the wine, order pizza. It’ll be fine.”

  “No, it won’t. Please go. I . . . need time. Lots more time.”

  He couldn’t very well force her to let him stay. Because he’d never been fully undressed, he could simply fasten his shirt, tuck it into his jeans, and buckle his belt. Walking into her living room, he picked up his hat.

  Then he glanced around. He might never be here again, and he wanted to remember it. Her sofa and chair were slip-covered in practical beige, but she’d strewn colorful throw pillows everywhere. The art on her walls was bright, too, including . . . what was that, anyway?

  He peered at the whirligig of scarves tacked to the wall. He’d bet she’d made that, and it was inventive and pretty and filled with life, just like she was. Or how she could be, if she’d break out of this prison she’d constructed around herself.

  He couldn’t just abandon her. “Valerie, can we talk about this? Do you realize you didn’t have a meltdown when the smoke alarm went off? You’re making progress!”

  “Not enough progress. I need to be by myself for awhile. Good-bye, Adam.”

  He was dismissed. Will had warned him not to mess up. He’d tried his damnedest not to. Somehow, though, he had, and now she was kicking him out. With a heavy sigh, he left.

  Eight

  Although Valerie had expected to cry after Adam closed her front door, she didn’t shed a single tear. Instead she wandered, zombie-like, back to the bedroom and pulled a bathrobe out of the closet. As she belted it around her waist, she stared at the bed and wondered if she’d have to donate it to charity. Sleeping in it would be impossible after this.

  She’d have to burn that maxi dress, too, although at the moment she didn’t have the energy to figure out how to do it without setting off the smoke alarm again.

  You didn’t have a meltdown when the smoke alarm went off. You’re making progress! Adam’s words came back to her.

  Now that he was gone, she could admit that he was right about that. The sound of the alarm had scared her, but not any more than that kind of noise had frightened her before the fire. Alarms were supposed to get the adrenaline pumping, so that people hearing them would take action.

  She’d done that. After stupidly leaving the water boiling and the sauce heating, she’d headed into the bedroom with Adam. Smoke alarms were designed to keep carelessness from causing more serious harm, and everything had worked the way it was supposed to. She’d handled the smoking pans in the kitchen and they hadn’t started a fire.

  But that wasn’t the main issue, and she knew it. Plopping down on the living room sofa, she gazed at the wine, and the bouquet lying on its side, gasping for water. The wine didn’t need her attention, but the blue roses and baby’s breath certainly did. Besides, blue roses cost the moon, and she couldn’t let her foul mood ruin them.

  As she found a vase for the flowers and filled it with water, she thought about her abysmal behavior in the lovemaking department. She’d imagined herself as a clever and sophisticated lady, taking charge like that. But underneath she’d been motivated by fear of losing control.

  She might have gotten away with her ruse if she hadn’t behaved like an idiot in the final moments. What normal woman rejects the idea of having an orgasm? She had, though, to her total embarrassment. Her body had surged ahead, demanding release, and she’d dug in her heels, as if she could keep it from happening.

  No wonder Adam had been confused as hell. Any man would be. And now that she was thinking about Adam, she acknowledged that he hadn’t said a single thing, veiled or blatant, that indicated he cared about the difference in their financial circumstances. Not an issue.

  She’d certainly done her best to create other issues, though. He’d come here with an open heart, and she’d insisted on playing games. Had she learned nothing about honest communication during her sessions with Rocket Fuel? Apparently not.

  If Adam had any sense, he’d give up on her as a bad job. To top it off, she’d created tonight’s little drama on Adam’s first date since his divorce. Wasn’t that special? He might have hoped for a new start, and instead he’d been kicked in the teeth.

  She didn’t know how she’d ever repair that damage, but for now, she could at least clean up the mess in the kitchen. Maybe scrubbing those two scorched pots would bring her some kind of clarity. Pushing herself to her feet, she headed into the kitchen, rolled up the sleeves of her bathrobe, and ran hot water in the sink.

  She was up to her elbows in soapy water when the doorbell rang. Glancing at the clock, she realized it wasn’t that late. One of her neighbors could be dropping by to ask a favor.

  The apartment complex didn’t allow solicitors, and Astrid and Melanie both knew she’d asked Adam to come for dinner, so they wouldn’t be showing up at her door. It had to be a neighbor. She could ignore them, of course, but it might be an emergency.

  Or maybe they’d heard her smoke alarm and were worried about her. Goodness knows she’d be worried if she heard a smoke alarm in the building. Tightening the belt on her robe, she ran her fingers through her hair and went to the door.

  Adam stood on the other side.

  She stared at him. “What are you doing here?”

  “Forcing the issue.” He walked in without being invited.

  She was so startled by his boldness that she stepped aside and let him in.

  The minute she closed the door he spun to face her. “Listen, Valerie, you and I are closer to making a go of things than you think.”

  “We are?” She gazed at him, stunned by his sudden appearance. She’d sent him away. He hadn’t stayed gone.

  “Yes, damn it! Remember the elevator? You might have lost it if those two guys had wedged their way in, but they didn’t, and you made it through that first ride.”

  “Yes, but an elevator ride is not the same as—”

  “Sex? Why not? You were really close to enjoying yourself, but the last part, the climax, was too much for you. But you were almost there! You need to try it again.”

  She blinked. “When?”

  “Now. With me.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m very serious. Every cowboy knows that when you fall off a horse, the best thing to do is get right back on.”

  She stared at him. “You’re insane, Adam Templeton.” But a tiny flame of hope flickered deep within her. If he hadn’t lost faith, maybe she shouldn’t, either.

&
nbsp; “Maybe I am insane, but I’ve been driving around town thinking about you, and about us, and that whirligig you made with the scarves, and I—”

  “The scarves? When did you notice the scarves?”

  “As I was leaving. They are so you—the part of you that wants to be free of all this crap.”

  “Don’t read anything into those scarves. I put them up right before you arrived to hide a smear of yellow paint. It took me about ten minutes.”

  He glanced at the scarves and back at her. “You just made my point, Madam Counselor. Look what happens when you let yourself do something crazy and spontaneous.” He gestured to it. “A burst of beauty.” He stepped closer. “That’s what you’re all about, Valerie. Don’t give up on rediscovering who you are.”

  She began to tremble. Much as she wanted to deny what he was saying, it rang true. But was she brave enough to try again? What if she couldn’t let go?

  She stalled for time. “Listen, it’s seven forty-five, and you haven’t had dinner. You must be starving.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not starving.” He took another step closer. “Come to bed with me, Valerie Wolitzky. If it works out the way I hope it will, we can order takeout later.”

  She shook so much she worried that her teeth would start chattering. “You’re giving m-me a s-second chance?”

  “I’m giving us a second chance.”

  “Why?” She held her breath.

  “Because I think . . . I think we might have something special.” His silver gaze searched hers. “And if I drive away from this apartment building without making love to you again, we might never find out if we do.”

  It was now or never. She felt like a skydiver at the open door of a plane. She gulped. “Okay.”

  “I have one condition, though.”

  “Wh-what?” If he didn’t put his arms around her soon, she was going to shake herself apart.

  “No games. No one-upmanship. Just . . . two people loving each other.”

  She nodded.

  “Be brave, sweetheart.”

  She nodded again.