The Tender Trap

by Beverly Barton

  The whirlpool waters surged around their naked bodies, caressing their heated flesh with waves of swirling pleasure.

  “Ride me, babe,” he told her. “Ride me hard.”

  Their wet bodies moved in a fast, undulating rhythm, increasing in speed with each thrust, until they both exploded into earth-shattering completion simultaneously. As they trembled with release, Adam held her, kissing her with a furious need, wishing the feeling spiraling through him could last forever.

  A few minutes later, he got out of the tub, then lifted her in his arms. Retrieving a couple of huge towels from the small linen closet in the bathroom, Adam threw them across Blythe and carried her into her bedroom. When he set her on her feet, the towels dropped to the floor. He picked up one and began drying her off, enjoying the sensual delight of her sweet, naked body.

  “Get in bed, babe. I think we could both use a long nap before dinner,” he said, then wondered if she’d think he was giving her an order. But when she smiled and turned down the covers, he dried off quickly.

  She got in bed, pulled the sheet up over her breasts and watched him crawl in bed beside her. Maybe she should protest, tell him that even if they had had sex—twice—they probably shouldn’t sleep together. That would make their marriage seem too real.

  But when Adam reached out and took her in his arms, she forgot all about asking him to go to his own bed. She snuggled against the hard, solid wall of his big body and fell into a deep, restful sleep.

  Still half-asleep the next morning, Adam caressed the bed where Blythe should have been. Not finding her, he spread his arms farther and searched for her. Groggily, he opened his eyes. Her side of the bed was empty.

  “Blythe?” He listened for the sound of running water, thinking she was probably in the shower. An unusual quiet filled the air, disrupted only by the faint tick of her small, antique alarm clock.

  He glanced at the clock. Six-thirty. Surely she hadn’t gone to work this early, especially now that she had two extra pairs of hands around Petals Plus. Maybe she was in the kitchen whipping up a special breakfast to celebrate their night of passion. Last night, after they’d prepared and eaten dinner together, they had returned to Blythe’s bed and made love again.

  Adam stretched, kicking back the covers, allowing his big, long body the freedom of the entire bed. What a night they’d shared! It had been a few years since he’d made love, other than with Blythe, three times in one night. But his sexy wife kept him so horny he went around aroused all the time.

  As a matter of fact, just thinking about her excited him. He wished she’d forget about breakfast, for the time being anyway, and come back to bed. He wanted her again. Right now.

  “Blythe?”

  No reply.

  He got out of bed and strolled down the hall, stopping in the kitchen doorway. The room was empty. Not one dirty dish lay in the sink.

  “Blythe?”

  Naked and aroused, he prowled through the house, only to find his wife missing. He went back into her bedroom, picked up his pants off the floor and slipped into them, then went out the side door to see if Biythe’s minivan was gone.

  “Damn! Where has she run off to this time?” he asked himself.

  The first and only other time they’d made love, he had awakened to find her gone. She had run away from him and tried to shut him out of her life because she thought their lovemaking had been a major mistake. But why would she run from him now? They were married and expecting a child and finally making progress in getting to know each other and truly understanding each other. Or so he had thought. Surely she didn’t think their making love last night had been a mistake. Nothing that felt so right could possibly be wrong in any way.

  Well, there was no point standing in the middle of the driveway trying to figure out why his little redheaded spitfire had fled from him. He’d just have to find her and ask her what was going on. And if she tried to shut him out this time, he’d—He’d what? Demand she come home with him where she belonged? No. Wrong strategy to use with Blythe. Reason with her? Maybe. And if all else failed, he might do a little begging. Adam grinned. Whatever it took to get her to come back home, he’d do it. Their deal had been to stay married, live together for the duration of her pregnancy and then file for a divorce only after her six-week checkup. She wasn’t about to wangle out of their bargain. Not now. Not after what they shared last night.

  Adam showered, shaved, dressed and downed a glass of orange juice, then hopped in his Lotus and headed toward Decatur. He made several phone calls from his car, trying to locate his wife. With the third call he struck gold. Blythe was with Joy.

  “Yeah, she’s here. She showed up nearly an hour ago and got us out of bed,” Craig whispered. “Joy banished me to the kitchen. They’re holed up in the den, probably plotting your demise.”

  “What do you mean, plotting my demise?” Adam clutched his cellular phone with one hand and guided the steering wheel into a U-turn with the other. He had just missed the turnoff to Joy and Craig’s house.

  “Well, Blythe’s exact words when I opened the front door an hour ago were Where is Joy? I’ve got to talk to her right now. She has to help me figure out what I’m going to do about Adam. ”

  “Oh, hell. I swear, Craig, things were a lot simpler a few thousand years ago when all a man had to do was knock a woman over the head and drag her back to his cave.”

  Craig chuckled. “Come to the back door. I’ll have a strong cup of coffee waiting for you.”

  Adam parked the Lotus directly behind Blythe’s minivan, blocking her in, just in case she made a run for it. Following Craig’s instructions, he went around to the back door and raised his hand to knock. With his crying daughter perched on his hip, Craig swung the door open.

  “Come on in. Missy’s throwing a fit. She woke up hungry and I’m going to have to go in there and disturb the womenfolk.”

  “Hey, pretty girl.” Adam cuddled Missy under the chin.

  She stopped yelling long enough to gaze up at her godfather. Sniffling, she stuck her fist in her mouth.

  “Do you understand your wife?” Adam asked his best friend.

  “A little,” Craig said. “But she’s a woman and I’m a man, so that rules out the possibility of complete understanding on either side.”

  “I thought that after last night things would get better. How wrong could I be?” Adam shook his head. “Every time I make love to her, she runs. What am I supposed to make of that?”

  “No way am I going to try to answer that question.” Craig kissed Missy on the top of her head. “Come on, Uncle Adam. Follow us. Missy wants Mommy, and you want Aunt Blythe.”

  “I don’t know whether or not I want her. The woman’s more trouble than she’s worth.”

  “I don’t believe you. If she wasn’t worth the trouble, you wouldn’t be here.” Craig leaned Missy against his chest and covered her exposed ear with his hand. “I know the look of a rutting stallion when I see one. Face it, old buddy, when you reach the point where only one woman can satisfy you, you’ve had it. You might as well give in.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Adam glared at Craig. “And what are you doing covering up Missy’s ears? She doesn’t know what you’re saying.”

  “Hey, my daughter has superior intelligence. Just because she can only say Mama, doesn’t mean she can’t understand a lot more.”

  Adam grunted, then grinned. “Let’s go get this over with. I swear, if she runs, I’m going to hog-tie her.”

  Craig knocked on the closed den door, and waited until Joy said, “Yes? What is it, Craig?” before he opened the door and walked in.

  “Your daughter’s hungry, madam.”

  Joy held out her arms as she stood. “Come to Mama, sweetheart. Are you hungry?” Joy started to part her robe, then stopped abruptly when Adam stepped into the den. “Hello, Adam.” Joy took Missy from Craig.

  Blythe, who was sitting on the floral sofa, gasped, then jerked her head around and stared up
at Adam, her eyes wide and bright and filled with a strange look. Almost like a deer caught in a car’s headlights, Adam thought and suddenly realized that she was afraid. Afraid of him!

  “May I speak to you alone?” Adam looked directly at Blythe.

  “It’s all right,” Blythe told Joy. “Go on and take care of Missy. Adam and I need to talk.”

  “If you need me I’ll—” Joy said.

  “I don’t think they’ll need you, honey,” Craig told her.

  “Right,” Joy said. Craig slipped his arm around his wife’s waist and led her out of the den.

  “May I sit down?” Adam asked. Hell, he hated walking on eggshells, but he had no other choice. He didn’t want to make a mistake by saying or doing anything that would upset or alienate Blythe. He wanted her smiling, happy and in his arms.

  She nodded her acquiescence, and before she could request he not sit next to her, he plopped down on the sofa beside her. She scooted to the far edge.

  Damn, he remembered how she’d done the same thing that night at his condo, during the storm. She seemed as wary of him now as she was then. But why?

  “What’s wrong, babe? Why’d you run away?” If only she’d look at him. But she didn’t. She sat away from him, rigid and tense.

  “We can’t live together anymore,” she said.

  “What do you mean, we can’t live together anymore?”

  “I think it would be obvious what I mean, after what happened last night.” She took a deep breath, but still refused to look at him.

  “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand your reasoning,” he told her. “But then, of course, that’s nothing new, is it?”

  “We made a bargain with each other. We promised each other certain things. Last night, we broke our promise not to have sex. That changes things. Don’t you see?”

  “No, I don’t see.”

  “Having sex changes our relationship, doesn’t it?” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, then cast her gaze downward into her lap.

  Was that what was bothering her? Did she think that their becoming lovers again had altered the game plan? Was she afraid he might expect her to be a real wife to him in every way, even stay married and forget the divorce?

  “It doesn’t have to change anything,” he said cautiously, then added, “unless you want it to.”

  “What about you?” she asked. “Do you feel any different about our relationship now?”

  What did she want him to say? God, if only he could read her mind and choose his answer accordingly. As far as he was concerned their becoming lovers again had changed their relationship—made it better, easier. Or at least, it should have. If he was totally honest with her, and with himself, he’d tell her that he wanted her now, more than ever, and that the idea of ending their relationship after their son was born didn’t appeal to him in the least.

  But how would she react if he was honest with her? Obviously the thought that anything between them might change on a permanent basis frightened her.

  “Look, I know that making love sometimes takes on more meaning for a woman than it should.” He swallowed. “Maybe you just overreacted a little to something that was bound to happen. After all, we’re married, living in the same house and we’re attracted to each other. It’s only natural that we’d want to make love.”

  “Yes, I suppose it is.”

  He was saying what she had thought he would say, that for him, nothing had changed, while for her everything had. He wanted her for a sex partner while they were married, but he still intended to go through with the divorce once the baby was born. Their marathon of passionate lovemaking had simply been sex for him, but for her, it had been love.

  After awakening this morning and mulling things over, she’d run away, hoping he’d come after her, praying that he’d rush into Joy and Craig’s house and proclaim his undying, eternal love for her. Oh, brother, had she been a fool. Adam might desire her sexually, but he’d never accept her as she was for his life’s partner. She just wasn’t what he wanted.

  And is he what you really want? she asked herself. Married to Adam, you could never be sure if, in wanting to please him and make him happy, you wouldn’t give up a little more of yourself every day. Could you trust yourself not to change, not to try to be more the kind of wife he expects, instead of the kind of woman you are?

  He reached out and ran the back of his hand along her cheek. Sucking in a deep breath, she closed her eyes, savoring the feel of his flesh against hers.

  “We made a bargain,” he said. “One that we both intend to keep, except for the not having sex clause.” He grinned. “That one didn’t make much sense anyway, considering how attracted we are to each other.”

  Blythe opened her eyes, clasped his hand and removed it from her face. “Let me get this straight. Our being lovers didn’t change anything as far as our original agreement is concerned.”

  “That’s right.” Liar, his conscience screamed.

  “And you want us to continue being lovers, since we can’t seem to resist each other?”

  “Why should we fight the attraction? I want you. You want me. What’s the harm in our enjoying a sexual relationship while we’re married?”

  “And after our divorce, we’ll both be free to find other...sexual...partners. Right?” she asked.

  Nol Hell, no! He’d kill any man who touched her. She was his, and his alone. “Yeah. Sure. After the divorce,” he said.

  “I’m not sure if I can agree to—to continue having sex with you.”

  He took both of her hands into his and held them between their bodies. “Come home with me now, and promise me that no matter what, you won’t run away again. And I promise that we’ll play this thing by ear and let whatever happens, happen.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I mean that I won’t take for granted that we’ll continue having sex, but that if and when we find ourselves wanting each other and do make love, there won’t be any recriminations or placing blame afterward. Can you agree to that?”

  Blythe considered her options. She could leave Adam. She could stay with him and refuse to have sex. Or she could stay with him and allow herself the pleasure of having him for her lover—until their divorce.

  “I’ll come home,” she said. “After work today. But I want a couple of days to let the dust settle, to let all that steam we created cool off before I agree to anything. Just give me some space. And don’t touch me. I can’t think straight when you touch me.”

  “I know the feeling, babe.” Only too well. When he touched her, he lost all sense of reason. If she had any idea the extent of the power she wielded over him, she could destroy him. “Friends again, and maybe, sometimes, lovers?” He held out his hand.

  Trying to smile, she finally forced a weak little grin. “Friends again? Yes. Lovers? Maybe.”

  She didn’t touch his hand. She didn’t dare.

  Nine

  Adam checked his watch again. Hell, he had to stop doing that. All morning he’d been acting like a worm in hot ashes, counting the minutes until Blythe showed up for their lunch date. Since their agreement four days ago to give themselves a little time to cool off, things had returned to normal. Normal, if you called sleeping in separate beds and being careful to not touch each other normal.

  His months of celibacy had ended when he had spent one night feasting on the richness of Blythe’s body, only to find out the next morning that he might be forced to go back on a starvation diet for another five or six months!

  He could find it easy to hate Blythe, to accuse her of trying to torment him by withholding sex, if he didn’t know she was hurting as much as he was. He could see it in her eyes whenever she looked at him. She wanted him. She wanted what they’d had together, but for her own illogical reasons she was denying them both the earth-shattering pleasure they found in making love.

  Today he intended to change things. He wasn’t going to push too hard and make her balk. He would take things slow
and easy—just not too slow. He wanted his wife naked and aroused and lying beneath him before the night ended. He wanted to hear her crying out, begging for more, as she wrapped herself around him and trembled with release.

  He had made up his mind, and nothing was going to stop him. He couldn’t spend the next half a year celibate, and he didn’t want any other woman. So that left him with only one sensible thing to do. Adam was going to seduce his wife.

  He had thought she might refuse his invitation to lunch and a shopping trip afterward, and he’d had a backup plan in mind. But she had agreed quickly, especially to the shopping trip, admitting she needed some maternity clothes and that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to choose some things for the nursery.

  A tightfisted knot of pain formed in his stomach at the thought of Blythe taking their son and moving out of the house. She’d asked him if he didn’t think it was a waste of time and money to go to the trouble of decorating a nursery in the house they shared, since the baby would only be there for a short time. Even if Blythe and their son were going to move into a new house after their divorce, Adam wanted Blythe and him to decorate a nursery together now. He had insisted on the nursery. He was always insisting on some issue or another.

  Sometimes he knew he pushed her too hard, trying to take care of her, doing what he thought was best. And heaven help him, he couldn’t stop doing the very things that drove her crazy. He was an aggressive, take-charge kind of man, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to see Blythe’s side of things, wasn’t willing to meet her halfway.

  He was trying, dammit. He was trying hard. And he had to admit, so was she. Neither of them was used to living with someone else, to sharing their lives with someone else, to having to constantly consider another person’s feelings.