MAN IN THE MIST

by Annette Broadrick

  Of course he knew what she was doing, she thought, as she sat beside him once more. His gaze seemed to sweep over her in waves and everywhere his gaze paused, she tingled.

  "I'm seducing you," she said, sounding breathless, as she slid her arms around his neck and kissed him.

  * * *

  Chapter 10

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  Fiona gave a fleeting thought to the meal waiting for them in the kitchen. She couldn't believe she had been so brazen as to suggest that—

  Well, that she would be willing to—

  That she would even consider the possibility of—

  She shifted so that she could draw closer to him.

  He was breathing hard, but then, so was she. She wanted—quite desperately, in fact—to make love with Greg, and now that she had so baldly stated her desire, she was afraid he would reject her.

  He hadn't moved since she'd placed her arms around him and yet his lips were soft and so very kissable that she decided he didn't mind.

  When his arms came around her in a fierce grip and he began to kiss her back, she almost laughed with relief. It was going to be all right. Everything would be all right.

  After several mind-blowing minutes, Greg pulled away from her. "I don't think this is a very good idea," he began, and she placed her fingers against his mouth.

  "Don't think. Don't analyze. Just be here with me right here … and right now. I'm asking nothing of you, Greg. I want no promises or insincere words." She tugged on his sweater until he lifted his arms and she pulled it over his head. The T-shirt disappeared the same way.

  When she reached for his belt buckle, she found his hand there, already unfastening the belt and pants. Within moments his boots were off with his pants and he was bare.

  Oh, my, but he had an exquisite body. She rested her hand on his taut belly, her eyes widening when he shivered. She started to pull away when he trapped her hand beneath his, holding her there, inches away from a very long erection. How was it possible to— No. She didn't want to go there, even in her thoughts.

  "Don't be afraid to touch me," he murmured. "I promise not to bite." His smile wavered when she followed his instructions. "Although … I might nibble a little, if you say it's all right."

  She knew that she was being outrageous and she didn't care. He would be leaving soon and she would never see him again. She wanted this time with him and although he had protested, he had not pushed her away.

  No, he had not pushed her away.

  Instead, he had lowered himself back onto the bed and watched her, waiting to see what she would do next. She wondered the same thing.

  She felt hot, then cold. She closed her eyes and focused on the warmth of his skin beneath her palm. He dropped his hand to his side.

  Greg's muscles were hard and his skin was smooth. With no resistance on his part, she skimmed her hand up his chest and circled the tiny, tightly beaded nipples almost buried in nests of silky hair.

  He quivered and closed his eyes, smiling as he gave himself up to her ministrations.

  Fiona forgot about the meal cooling in the other room. All she remembered were the feelings he evoked deep inside of her, feelings so intense she could scarcely contain them.

  She wanted this man. She needed to be fiercely honest with herself about that. Tonight would be the last time she would see him. Was she going to let this opportunity slip away without taking advantage of these last few hours with him?

  Fiona shivered, feeling the slight chill of the room ripple across her bare skin. When she glanced at his face, she realized that Greg was watching her, his eyes dark with an expression that she could readily identify.

  Feeling more than a little awkward, Fiona stretched out on her side beside him, leaning her head against her hand while she rested on her elbow.

  "You are more exquisite than I could have possibly imagined, Fiona," he whispered. He kept his hands to his sides.

  She knew she radiated embarrassed heat, but there was more than just embarrassment there. She wanted him so badly but wasn't sure what to do next. It was one thing to study the reproduction of Homo sapiens in an anatomy textbook. She certainly understood the mechanics of mating. What she didn't know was how to go about it without inflicting or receiving pain.

  "Please," she whispered, running her hand from his chest to his groin, allowing her fingers to brush over his mind-boggling erection. She could feel his body quivering.

  "Please what?" he asked, sounding a little amused.

  "I don't know what to do next."

  He groaned and turned toward her. "Why doesn't that surprise me? What do you want to do, Fiona? I need to know so that there's no chance of misunderstanding. Not now. We've come too far."

  She swallowed. "I want to make love with you." Her hand continued to slide over his skin, which had grown damp. The chill of the room didn't appear to affect him in the least.

  He caught his breath when her hand daintily stroked over and around his groin area. "I can't tell you how glad I am to hear you say that because I don't think I have the strength to turn away from you at the moment, despite all my best intentions."

  She smiled. "You sound almost as nervous as I feel."

  He nodded, pulling her down to him, so that her head rested on his arm. He molded her to his body, making her heart pick up its beat. "Of course I'm nervous," he whispered, kissing her quickly on her mouth, her eyes, her nose and her cheeks. "It's been a while and I'm not at all sure I have enough control to love you without scaring you to death."

  "I'm not afraid of you," she said, looking into his eyes and his soul.

  "You should be," he muttered, before he rolled onto his back, holding her in place. He quickly removed her bra and panties and then lifted her enough to gain access to her breasts. His mouth covered first one, then the other, tugging on the nipples until she thought she would cry out with pleasure.

  She leaned over him, her legs sliding to either side of his hips, and kissed any portion of his body she could reach. Somehow she wanted to be able to give him the same pleasure that he offered her.

  He ran his hand down her back and around to her side before slipping it between their bodies. She started at the unfamiliar touch. He let go of her breast and kissed her mouth before saying, "It's all right. I won't hurt you. I promise."

  He touched her intimately, his fingers moving into her body. She was embarrassed to be so damp there, but he didn't appear to mind. In a sudden move he reversed their position so that she now rested on the bed and he was on his knees between her legs. The movement of his magical fingers brought her hips off the bed to push against him, wanting him to continue his rhythmic caresses.

  He must have read her mind because he didn't slow down. Instead, he moved faster and faster until she stiffened and cried out, her body no longer in her control, as she felt the most exquisite sensations pulsing through her.

  He paused and looked down at her with a smile so tender she fought the tears that threatened to appear.

  "Yes," he whispered. "Your eyes change color when you're making love, just as I imagined." He leaned down and captured her mouth with a possessiveness that took her breath away. This kiss was nothing like the one they had exchanged earlier—had it only been two nights ago? This time he allowed her to feel his passion, the strength of his constraint, his hunger and his need.

  When he lifted his head she felt that her body had liquefied.

  "I can stop now, if you want," he said, his voice strained.

  "But that isn't fair to you, is it?" she asked, puzzled by his comment.

  "This isn't about fair, little one. This is about what you want, remember? You're seducing me."

  "Oh!" She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Then I don't want you to stop," she said, running her tongue over his ear.

  This time she heard the groan that she had only felt earlier.

  "Hold on," he said, and grabbed the pants that he'd thrown over the bedpost. He fished his wallet out of the back pock
et with shaking hands, pulled out a small foil-wrapped package and dropped the wallet on the bed.

  "I hope to hell this thing works. It's been in there longer than I can remember."

  He quickly covered himself, then nudged her legs so they widened. He looked so serious, so strained and so intent that she didn't want to do or say anything to distract him.

  "Let me know if I hurt you," he said, his voice husky.

  She slid her arms around his neck once again, holding him close. She closed her eyes and waited, praying it wouldn't hurt too much.

  She felt him nudge her there between her legs, but this time she knew it wasn't his fingers wanting to gain entry. Reflexively she drew her knees up, cradling him between them.

  He made a sound of approval before he carefully pushed himself closer to her.

  He is huge, was her first thought. He'll never fit there, was her second. She reminded herself that he'd promised to stop if she hurt too badly to allow him entrance. She wanted to do this for him. He'd brought her to the most beautiful climax she could have ever imagined.

  Fiona forced herself to relax.

  The dampness made his entry smooth and he rocked gently over her, moving a little deeper with each small thrust before pulling away. Fiona was surprised at the teasing sensations she felt. In an effort to increase them, she lifted her hips and met his next thrust, moving him deeper with surprisingly little pain.

  She didn't want Greg to slow down, to take it easy, to carefully breach the barrier. With that in mind, the next time he rocked forward, she thrust as hard as she could with her hips, using her heels to push her higher. She felt something inside her give way before he was firmly embedded inside her.

  He was panting, his breathing harsh in her ear. "I think I've died and gone to heaven," he said on a sigh.

  "I didn't think it would fit," she said shyly into his ear.

  "Believe me, I had the same concern. You are so small I was afraid I'd do permanent damage."

  She kissed his cheek, feeling the perspiration trickle down his face.

  "Now what?" she asked, and she felt his body shake with suppressed laughter.

  In the next few minutes he showed her in several pleasurable ways what happened next. He made love to her with his whole body. He kept his rhythm slow while he kissed her, his tongue moving to the thrusting rhythm of his body. Fiona had never imagined such an erotic sensation.

  She'd wanted this without knowing how it would feel. Now she was receiving so much pleasure that her panting moans were in counterpoint to his.

  She felt herself tightening around him, the sensations that had swept over her earlier returning with more intensity than she could have imagined possible.

  His movements quickened and his breathing became more labored. Fiona wrapped her arms and legs around him, unwilling to let him go.

  A sudden burst of release exploded inside her, her body convulsively contracting.

  Greg gathered her tightly to him and lunged deep inside her, crying out as he reached his release. It went on and on and her body responded by contracting around him.

  He rolled onto his side without letting her go, her face buried in his chest. She turned her head, gasping for air, while his heart pounded beneath her ear.

  Fiona sighed with contentment and closed her eyes.

  A few minutes passed before he moved, reluctantly withdrawing from her. He got out of bed, slipped on his robe and left the room. She followed his progress with her mind's eye. She heard the bathroom door close, water running, the toilet flush, more water, and then silence before she heard the door open again. She waited.

  It took him longer to return to the bedroom. When he did, he had the sexiest smile on his face, which made her want to leap into his arms immediately and have her way with him again.

  "Are you aware that there's food sitting on your table? I would imagine it to be cold food by now."

  She had rolled to her back and pulled the covers to her chin when he'd left, feeling the chill of the room once more. She nodded. "Yes, I came in to tell you I had a meal ready."

  He shook his head and chuckled. In a couple of long strides he arrived at the side of the bed. "Thank you for sharing that information with me, Miss MacDonald." He slid his hand beneath the covers and cupped her breast. "Would you like me to fetch your robe so that you can join me for dinner, late though it may be?"

  With all the dignity she could muster, and it was difficult since she wanted to laugh with sheer pleasure, she nodded. "Please," she replied, in her aunt Minnie's regal tone.

  He straightened, still smiling, and left the room again. This time he wasted no time returning to her, her robe in hand.

  With dignified aplomb, Greg bowed and said, "Your robe, madam."

  Suddenly feeling shy and more than a little wanton, she pulled the robe around her before she threw the covers off.

  He shook his head, but did not comment.

  Their dinner did not look nearly as appetizing now as it had when she'd first placed the dishes on the table. With quiet efficiency she reheated each item, this time making them each a plate. When both plates were filled, she returned to the table where Greg sat, watching her.

  She placed the plates on the table and sat down. Without quite meeting his eye, she began to eat and noticed that he didn't waste much time diving into his meal, either.

  This making-love business burned up a lot of energy, Fiona thought. Being ever practical, she decided she would stoke up on fuel just in case he might be interested in more activity before the night was over.

  After the dishes were done, Fiona excused herself and went upstairs to shower. She could catch the scent of his aftershave on her once in a while and she wished she could leave it as a reminder. Maybe she wouldn't wash his pillowcase. Instead, she would keep it near her at night as a reminder of the American who had stolen her heart.

  The shower door abruptly opened and she squealed in shock. Greg stood there, wearing nothing more than his smile. "May I join you?" he asked, stepping into the shower with her before she could find her tongue. "Here, I'll wash your back for you." He took the soap and washcloth from her limp hand and carefully turned her so that she stood with her back to him. He gently scrubbed her back, lifting her wet hair from her shoulders and running both hands along her hips and thighs and back up to her derriere.

  When he slipped his hand around to the thatch of curls between her thighs, she was whimpering with need.

  He pulled her snugly against him, then lifted her so that he could rub his erection against her bottom, teasing her with his movements until she was ready to attack him.

  Greg must have known the moment when she couldn't take any more because he lowered her feet to the floor, sluiced the soap bubbles off and turned off the water. He stepped out of the shower and before she could regain her equilibrium he wrapped her in one of the bath towels and carried her into her bedroom.

  Dark had descended sometime when she wasn't aware of anything other than Greg. He'd turned back her covers and had the small lamp by her bed on. While he sensuously rubbed the towel over her, he said, "I've fed McTavish and Tiger, let McTavish out for his nightly check and then let him back in and banked the fire."

  "Oh?" she said weakly.

  "Uh-huh. I figured after the long day we had, we probably needed to go to bed earlier than usual." He rearranged her on the bed, quickly dried himself off and knelt between her legs once again. Fiona was quickly discovering that she found that position most pleasing.

  He began to massage her, starting with her neck and shoulders, her breasts—his hands teasing and tantalizing her—her waist and her abdomen until she could no longer lie still. It was when he kissed her on her abdomen and again on her thick curls that she froze.

  "What are you doing?"

  He glanced up, his eyes dancing. "Doing my best to further your education, Miss Fiona. Lie back and enjoy it, okay?"

  "But—" she began before she forgot what she'd been about to say.


  He licked her, his tongue probing into her most personal place. There had been no mention of that in the textbooks she'd read!

  His fingers danced along her thighs and abdomen before moving inside once again, following the same rhythm set by his tongue.

  She gave herself up to the sensations, allowing her body to build and build into an ever-tightening knot deep inside until she erupted once again, her hips pushing against him, willing him to come inside her.

  When he didn't, she opened her eyes and looked at him with the question in her eyes.

  "You're going to be sore in the morning, sprite. I don't want to overdo."

  She wanted to tell him to please overdo if it always felt like this, but she didn't.

  "I'm in rather short supply of protection, I'm afraid. So I—"

  She smiled at him, causing him to blink. "I happen to have some downstairs. There are times when I seem to be one of the main suppliers in the village. Some of the married women are too shy to ask the druggist."

  He closed his eyes for a moment and swallowed. When he opened them, they had darkened to a familiar hue, silently alerting her that he wouldn't be averse to the idea. "Where?" was all he said, sounding hoarse.

  She sat up and slipped off the bed. She picked up her robe and looked back at him as she went out the door. "Don't move. I'll be right back."

  He wasted no time when she returned and he had her pinned to the bed in no more than a few minutes. She enthusiastically cooperated. She explored him as he had her, bringing him to the brink of climax before she slipped the protection over him and guided him inside her.

  There were no gentle movements, no softly whispered words this time. Their coming together was explosive, physical and earthy. Once there, he continued his long thrusts and her hips met him, her body glistening with perspiration. When he collapsed against her she smiled, feeling quite pleased with herself. She had managed to get the hang of lovemaking with surprising ease.

  Fiona knew, of course, that she would never share this intimacy with another man.

  As she drifted into sleep, she drowsily hoped that Aunt Minnie had been able to enjoy such pleasure with her Robbie before he was killed. If so, it would explain why she'd never been interested in another man.