The shirt at last fell loose and she set her palms against his chest. The crisp curls tickled her palms. He was warm, so warm. She slid her hands up his chest, feeling the shudder that ran through him as her fingertips grazed his flat nipples. She felt powerful. For the first time, she realized the power of her femininity. Flynn actually trembled when she touched him. It was a heady feeling. But she didn't have long to savor the feeling, because Flynn soon showed her that it worked both ways.
His fingers mastered the front clasp of her bra and Ann's nails dug into his chest as she felt it slip loose. Her eyes swept up to meet his and were caught and held in the brilliant blue fires that burned there. He kept his eyes on hers as he opened the lace garment, brushing it aside without really touching her.
His hand rested between her breasts, unmoving, so close without touching. The tension grew as she waited for him to move. Her palms tingled where they touched him, her breathing was shallow. Why didn't he move? Just when she thought she would surely explode, he moved.
His eyes never left hers as his hand shifted slowly, so slowly, his fingers hovering over her for an instant before his thumb stroked ever so gently across the tip of her breast. Ann hadn't even realized that she was holding her breath until it left her in a sigh that came perilously close to a sob. Her eyes fell shut, her entire being concentrated on that one tiny point as he captured her nipple between thumb and forefinger and tugged lightly.
"Please." The word was a whisper, almost lost in the crackle of the fire. Her back arched, begging, demanding. And the demand was answered. His head dipped and her fingers buried themselves in his hair as his mouth closed around the swollen point. He seemed to know just what she needed, far more clearly than she herself knew. She felt the tugging at her breast but she felt it more deeply, setting up pulsing waves low in her stomach.
Her hips moved in unconscious invitation, seeking something to fill the aching void that had settled inside. Flynn continued to suckle at her breast, his free hand sliding across the satiny skin of her abdomen. The snap of her jeans popped loose, and then the zipper rasped downward and his fingers were sliding beneath the stiff denim. His hand came to rest over the very heart of her need, only the satin of her panties separating them.
Ann stiffened as his fingers stroked her dewy flesh through the thin fabric. His touch was so intimate, the feeling so intense, it was almost painful. He seemed to understand, because he didn't move to deepen the caress until he felt the tension ease.
When she relaxed beneath him, his fingers moved again, stroking, probing, teasing, all with that frustrating layer of cloth between them. His mouth nuzzled between her breasts and she arched upward against his hand, a moan escaping her. He was so close. So close. She felt him smile against her breasts and a sudden spurt of rage made her dig hernails into his shoulders.
He laughed, the merest ghost of masculine triumph brushing her skin. Before the sound could fan her frustration higher, his hand lifted, sliding beneath the waistband of her panties. Ann's breath came out in a sob as he touched her at last, stroking the delicate folds.
Her body arched as he fanned the flames inside her higher and higher, pushing her toward some goal she was half afraid to reach. But, where he'd made allowances for her uncertainties a moment ago, now he was ruthlessly determined to push her forward. His mouth closed over hers, his tongue stabbing within at the same time that his finger slipped inside her, his thumb pressing on the most sensitive part of her.
Ann felt as if she were suddenly spinning apart. The pleasure caught her, lifted her and then dropped her to fall endlessly through space. She was blind, helpless, with nothing to cling to except Flynn's broad shoulders. He held her tight, his mouth and hands gentle on her trembling body, easing her back down from the heights.
She opened dazed eyes as he stood up, bending to lift her in his arms. The fire continued to burn on the hearth, the flames lower now. Her eyes met Flynn's, reading the hunger that still burned in him", and she buried her face against his bare shoulder, oddly shy in the face of his need.
He carried her easily, kicking the door of his bedroom shut behind them. He set her on the bed and then returned to the door, flicking the lock shut, reminding Ann that they were not alone in the apartment. Her cheeks warmed when she remembered her total abandonment of a few minutes ago. The possibility of being interrupted had been the last thing on her mind.
The room was lit only by one small lamp that burned on a table near the bed. In the dim light, Flynn looked intimidatingly large. She could feel his eyes on her, but she couldn't bring herself to meet them. She stared at his chest as he shrugged out of the loosened shirt and let it fall to the floor. His fingers went to his belt buckle, and Ann felt the color come up in her cheeks at the sight of his arousal blatantly pressed against the heavy denim. She shut her eyes as his jeans hit the floor.
Flynn hesitated, staring at her. She was so still. Was she having second thoughts? He left his shorts on and crossed the room to kneel in front of her.
"Ann?" Her eyelids fluttered but didn't lift, and he cupped her chin, tilting her face to his. "Ann? Look at me, love. You're not afraid of me, are you?"
Her lashes lifted slowly, and he felt as if he could lose himself in the smoky green depths of her eyes. There were so many emotions in her face. Uncertainty, desire and a slumberous look that made his muscles tighten. He bent forward to kiss her and her mouth softened instantly, welcoming him, reassuring him.
Need burned in him. He wanted to bury himself in her, soothing his aching body in the warmth of her. He contented himself with kissing away the tension he could feel, easing her clothes away so slowly she was hardly aware of them going.
When she at last lay naked beneath him, he thought he would surely explode with hunger. He'd had fantasies about how she would look in his bed. The reality far surpassed anything he could have imagined. Her skin was creamy pale, like the finest satin, cool to look at but hot beneath his touch. Her hair spread like fiery silk across his pillow. And her eyes. Her eyes seemed to burn into his very soul.
He could feel her uncertainty as his hands stroked her body, stroking the slumbering fires to new life. If she'd thought it was impossible to want again so soon, he was determined to prove her wrong. He heard the surprised catch in her breathing as his fingers worked magic. She arched beneath him, tangling her fingers in his hair.
The pleading tug of her hands stripped away the last of Flynn's fragile control. He fumbled in the drawer of the nightstand, thinking of her protection though he knew she was long past any clear thoughts. He slid his body over hers, feeling her stiffen and then melt as she felt the heat that burned in him.
Her legs opened, cradling him, welcoming him. He tested himself against her, resting his weight on his hands so that he could watch her face. Her eyes reflected wild uncertainty and her body stiffened for a moment as he slid inside her. He shuddered as she sheathed him. She felt so good, so right. The uncertainty left her eyes, replaced by surprised pleasure and her body softened beneath him. Flynn groaned, lowering himself so that his chest was a sensuous weight on her breasts.
He began to move, slowly, savoring the feel of her tight warmth. Ann matched his movements, clumsily at first, gradually picking up the rhythm, drawing another groan from him. The hunger had been building for so long that the fulfillment could not last long. Flynn felt the delicate contractions grip her body and he moaned a protest. He wanted it to last forever and then his own climax took him, sending him spinning after her into a place where the only reality was each other.
The return to earth was slow. Flynn lifted his head, feeling as if the entire world had been rearranged in the last few minutes. Ann lay still beneath him, her body lax, her face utterly peaceful. He kissed her, tasting her satisfaction in the softness of her mouth. He made to move away and her hands tightened on his hips.
"Don' go." The protest was slurred.
Flynn smiled, kissing her again. "I'll smash you."
He pulled awa
y, seeing the faint moue of discomfort as he withdrew. His brows drew together as a vague suspicion began to form.
"Ann?"
"Umm?" She didn't open her eyes, didn't shift from her sprawled position.
"I have this funny feeling that you've never done this before."
He couldn't have gotten more results if he'd dropped a bomb in the middle of the bedroom. Her eyes flew open, her body tightened, all the lazy pleasure leaving her. She scrambled to pull the sheet over her, tucking it around her breasts defensively. He almost regretted the question. Her reaction gave him his answer even before she spoke.
"What makes you say that?"
He leaned on one elbow next to her, drawing one finger down her bare arm. "It wasn't an accusation, love." He smiled, coaxing her to relax again.
"I'm thirty years old. It isn't likely that I'd still be a...a..."
"Virgin? Ann, it's all right. Why are you so defensive about it?"
Her eyes shifted away from him. "It's ridiculous."
"It's surprising but not ridiculous. Nothing about you could ever be ridiculous."
"You don't think that I'm... frigid or repressed or something?"
"Haven't you heard? Therels no such thing as a frigid woman. Only an inept lover." His mouth brushed her shoulder and she shivered. He felt some of the tension ease from her.
"It's not that I have anything against sex, you know. It's just that I never had time for it. I don't mean that exactly. It's just that I've always felt like I had to prove that I'm worthy and I've worked so hard that I've never really had time to get close to other people."
Flynn's mouth cut off the tangled explanation, kissing her until he felt her soften, her hands coming up to clasp his shoulders. He wanted to go out and find her father and beat him to a pulp. Though the name hadn't been mentioned, he knew who it was that Ann was trying to prove her worth to. But he said nothing to her.
When he finally let her up for air, he was pleased with the slightly glazed look in her eyes. She looked like a woman who'd been well and thoroughly loved. The look pleased him.
"You don't owe me any explanations. But you should have told me sooner. I might have taken more time."
The look she gave him was half-shy, half-bawdy and all female. "If you'd taken any more time, I'd have exploded. You made it wonderful for me, Flynn. Thank you."
Flynn felt the color rise in his face. Blushing! She actually had him blushing. He laughed selfconsciously. "Don't thank me. Believe me, the pleasure was all mine."
He slid his arm beneath her shoulders, pulling her to his side. Ann's head snuggled into his shoulder, feeling so right that he wondered how he'd ever slept without her small body tucked against his. She was asleep within minutes.
It wasn't quite that easy for Flynn. Lying there, staring into the dimly lit room, he wondered at the changes that had overtaken his life. Three weeks ago, he'd had nothing more important on his mind than whether or not to fly to Switzerland for the ski season. Now, here he was with a little girl who looked to him to take care of her and Ann.
Just what was he going to do about Ann? He didn't even know what he wanted to do about Ann. Somehow, she'd gone from being his beautiful but hostile neighbor to feeling so right in his bed that he couldn't imagine doing without her.
He turned his head, inhaling the faint herbal scent of her hair. Making love to her had been like nothing he'd ever experienced before. She'd felt so good. He'd never found such total satisfaction in a woman. He reached up to shut out the light. Nothing could be decided tonight.
Tonight, he just wanted to savor the closeness, the warmth of her in his bed.
Chapter 8
Ann woke up suddenly, with the feeling of panic that comes of knowing that you're not in your own bed but not knowing where you are. Realization came quickly but it did little to slow the pounding of her heart. She shifted gingerly, easing away from Flynn's hold until she could sit up.
Flynn continued to sleep as she gathered up her clothes and dressed. Her movements were furtive, as if she were a thief in the night. She snapped her jeans and jerked her shirt on, thrusting buttons through buttonholes without paying much attention to whether she was matching the right button with the right buttonhole.
She stole quick glances at Flynn, terrified that he would wake up before she could slip away. She couldn't face him right now. It was foolish, childish even, but she just needed to get away.
Once dressed, she hesitated for a moment, unable to resist the chance to study him when she didn't have to worry about those brilliant blue eyes watching her. In sleep, he looked younger than his thirty-three years. His mouth was softer, more vulnerable. His hair fell onto his forehead in that tantalizing black lock, and she clenched her fingers against the urge to push it back off his forehead.
The sheet lay draped across his waist, exposing the mat of curling dark hair that covered his chest. She flushed, remembering the feel of those crisp curls against her body. Her breasts tingled at the memory. Her eyes followed the line of hair as it tapered across his stomach and disappeared beneath the sheet. She flushed again as the line of her thoughts moved beyond what the sheet revealed.
Part of her wanted to climb back into bed and wake him. She wanted to find out if it was possible to know the kind of pleasure she remembered from the night just past. Surely, she must have dreamed the total satisfaction she'd felt. She backed away, physically resisting temptation. She hurried- from the room, carefully shutting the door behind her.
It was early. The light outside the balcony doors had the watery quality of dawn. The fire had burned to ashes on the hearth, not even a glowing ember to show what had been the night before. Ann picked up her shoes, trying not to think of what had begun here and ended in the bedroom.
Letting herself into her own apartment, she had a feeling of unreality. Oscar trotted toward her, meowing low in his throat, a questioning greeting. Ann wondered if he could see that something was different about her and then scolded herself for the foolish thought. The only thing Oscar could see was that she was home and it was morning and he was ready to be fed.
Ten minutes later, she stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom. Oscar was happily devouring his cat food and the apartment was still. The Ann who looked at her from out of the glass wasn't the Ann she'd known for thirty years. There was a new knowledge in her eyes. An awareness that hadn't been there before. She looked away from her reflection, uncomfortable with what she saw there, unwilling to deal with the changes just yet. She'd get dressed and go to the hospital. It was early but there was always work to be done. And, right now, she wanted to lose herself in work.
❧
Flynn came awake slowly, feeling at peace with himself and the world in general. His hand went out but found only empty space. He opened his eyes, knowing that Ann was gone. A hint of her shampoo clung to the pillows, bringing vivid memories of how soft she'd felt in his arms.
He was disappointed that she was gone but a little relieved, too. This would give him a chance to figure out what he was going to say to her when they met again. Were they now lovers in the full sense of the word, or was she going to see last night as something that happened once but never again?
He wanted to be her lover. It surprised him to realize how badly he wanted that. He wanted her back in his bed, in his arms. He wanted to wake up next to her in the morning.
He got up and walked into the bathroom, turning the shower on full force and stepping under the warm spray. Becky would be up soon, if she wasn't up already. One thing he'd learned over the past weeks was that children didn't understand the idea of sleeping late. Mornings were for getting up, no matter what had gone the night before.
Becky. She'd been the catalyst to bring him and Ann together, but it was no longer possible to pretend that she was all that connected them.
Half an hour later, he left his bedroom and walked, barefoot, into the living room. Ann's shoes were gone but the pillows still lay on the floor in front of the fireplace
and their wineglasses still stood on the wide hearth. He picked up the glasses and then turned at a sound behind him.
Becky stood in the hall doorway, her eyes stern with disapproval. "It's awful early to be drinking, Mr. Flynn. Are you going to get plastered again?"
Flynn grinned at her, not in the least put out by her scolding tone. "I haven't had a drop, urchin. These are from last night. Hungry?"
"Starved."
"Well, go comb your hair and I'll see what I can do about finding you some breakfast."
❧
When the knock on the door came, Ann jumped, spilling milk on the counter. She grabbed a sponge to mop up the puddle, grimacing at the fine tremor in her hand. She'd known that she wouldn't be able to avoid Flynn forever. In fact, she'd known that she wouldn't even be able to avoid him all evening. But she hadn't expected him to come knocking on her door when she'd been home less than twenty minutes.
He was going to want to talk about last night and she wasn't ready to talk about it. She wasn't sure she'd ever be ready. This was one problem she hadn't been able to put aside by going to work. It had nagged at the back of her mind all day, like an aching tooth that couldn't be ignored.
The knock came again, and she dropped the sponge into the sink.
"I'll just tell him that I don't want to talk about it. After all, what's to discuss? We made love. People do it all the time. No big deal."
Oscar gave her a dubious look, as if he didn't believe her words any more than she did.
She pulled open the door to find Flynn's hand raised to knock a third time. All her carefully selected . phrases flew out of her head when she saw his face.
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