“I know the feeling.” The words came out as if it was a relief to say them. Still holding her hand, he reached for the light switch and shut it off, plunging the room into semidarkness. “Come sit with me for a while,” he invited softly. He steered her to the couch; she would have preferred the rocking chair. “Shall we see what's on?” He knelt down in front of the television and turned it on. The movie that came on was an old John Wayne Western she'd seen several times before.
“Is this okay?”
“Fine.”
He sat down beside her, reached for her hand, and engulfed it in his. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, his head resting on the back of the couch.
“This is nice.” He let out a half sigh, half yawn. “I like the peace and quiet, the companionship, the…just being here with you. I didn't realize how lonely my life had become until I met you and Peter.”
She glanced at him. His head was turned toward her and his green eyes held hers like a magnet. There was a sense of unreality in having him here, sharing in the preparation of the meal, taking Peter to bed together, sitting with him during the quiet of the evening. The careful way he had pushed her down onto the couch, his soft, sincere words, the touch of his hand holding hers, called out to something deep inside of her, brought her emotions to the brink of exploding. Ten seconds passed while Gloria drew a shallow breath, followed by a deeper one. She shook her head as if in answer to a question.
“You think I want to make love to you. Is that it?” The question was delivered suddenly.
“No, I just think…” She continued to shake her head. Her heart began to beat heavily.
“You're wrong. I want to…very much. I've wanted to since the first time I saw you. Since the very first,” he whispered once more, his face near hers, his hands drawing her to him. “I doubt if there's a man alive who wouldn't want to make love to you if he were here with you like this.”
Oh, yes, there is, she thought. But a man like you wouldn't understand that. He looks tired, she thought; he has shadows beneath his eyes. Has he been working too hard, not sleeping well? She felt warmth sweeping over her. Oh, God! What if he can read my mind? Her breath caught in the back of her throat, but when she spoke, she chose her tone carefully.
“You'd never force me.”
He lifted her hand, gently disengaged her fingers from around his, and held it tightly between his two palms. He looked at it intently, then brought her fingers to his mouth and gently brushed his lips across her knuckles.
“No. I'd never do that.” He placed her hand, palm up, in his. “Such a little hand.” He spoke as if he were talking to himself. “I like it.” He turned his head toward her. “I like everything about you, Glory.”
She didn't move. She felt her insides warm with pleasure as she looked into the quiet face and soft green eyes now anxiously waiting to see if she would take his admission lightly and throw back a sassy retort. Love and tenderness welled within her. She lifted her free hand and held it to his cheek. Still holding her eyes with his, he turned his lips into her palm. She felt them move, felt the warmth of his breath. There had been no games between them, no sassy retorts, no pretense, since the night they had taken her aunt to the hospital. He had offered her his help, his friendship, openly and honestly, with no strings attached. Suddenly all the emotional bruising she'd had to endure from Marvin flowed and melted away under the serious but tender look in his eyes.
“There's a lot I like about you, too, Jack.” She was so absorbed in her own thoughts that it was seconds, or minutes, before she realized that his eyes were no longer serious. They were twinkling.
“In spite of the beard?”
“And the hair…and the earring….”
His hand went to his ear and he tugged. “I don't know how you women wear such things. It hurt like hell!”
“It serves you right for trying to aggravate me.”
He gazed at her for a long moment before he reached out a hand to stroke a finger down her cheek with a feather-light touch. Her thoughts shifted to how absolutely masculine he was, how capable he was of doing anything he wanted to do. He would have made a wonderful pioneer, a man who would have blazed a trail into the wilderness, built a cabin with his own hands, taken care of his woman—
“Have you ever kissed a man with a beard?”
“Thousands.”
He growled fiercely, and his long arms reached out to envelop her and lock her to him. “How about making it a thousand and one?”
Gloria heard herself, amazingly, laughing. She turned her head from side to side, until his fingers cupped her chin. The eyes that smiled into his were glittering pools of molten gold.
“Aha!” she cried. “Now your caveman character comes out!”
“I don't think you realize what a sweet invitation you are, sitting there with your eyes shining and your soft mouth smiling. I've wanted to kiss you from the first minute I saw you,” he said huskily, and lowered his mouth to hers. His lips were soft and gentle. The brush of his beard caressed her face and was surprisingly pleasant. “Everything about you turns me on, in spite of all I can do to resist you. This little upper lip of yours—this little crease beside your mouth that's caused by pressing your lips together to keep from smiling.” He licked it with his tongue. “You're going to have smile lines here.” His lips touched the corners of her eyes. “And when you're older, and your hair is twisted in a knot on the top of your head, you'll be even more beautiful than you are now.” Her lids fluttered down. “Open your eyes, Glory, Glory, and look at me.”
“Jack, I don't sleep around.” She raised gold-tipped lashes and immediately became lost in the clear-green pools of his eyes.
“I know that. Put your arms around me, Glory,” he whispered. Warm fingers smoothed her hair away from her face and then cupped the back of her head.
Mindless, unconscious of time or place, she lifted her arms and encircled his neck in complete disregard of the common sense that told her she was acting wantonly, unrestrainedly, and foolishly. She leaned back to look into his eyes.
“You have beautiful eyes, Jack.”
“Yours are like those I've seen on a beautiful little mountain lion—wide, questioning, soft, but fierce too.” His arms tightened and his lips nuzzled her ear. They felt so good, she pressed against them.
“I scratch too.”
“Nooo.” He drew the word out. “You purr. You're a delicious armful, Glory, Glory. I've wanted to kiss you with your arms around my neck, your breasts pressed against me, and your hips in my hands for…oh, so long. But I won't do it, if you tell me to stop. Are you going to?”
“I should….”
A wild, sweet enchantment rippled through her veins as his mouth moved over hers with warm urgency. The desire to push her fingers through his hair was an impulse she couldn't resist. It was so thick and so soft, like the mustache and beard that swept across her face. His kiss deepened and her head began to spin helplessly from the torrent of churning desires racking her body. The intensity of these feelings was strange to her, but she was not frightened by them. The sensations were heightened when his tongue caressed her lips, sought entrance, and found welcome. When she felt his mouth leaving hers, she held the back of his head with her hand more tightly. Finally, reluctantly, they broke the kiss so they could breathe.
“Glory, sweet one…I shouldn't have started this! You're so soft to touch, so sweet to taste, and you smell so womanly.” He gently pulled her over onto him, and his hand moved down her back to her hips. He cupped them and pressed her to his male hardness; arousing her, taking her over, making her want the physical gratification of uniting with him in the most intimate way. “Tell me to stop…to go home—or it'll be too late.” The words seemed to be wrenched from him. “I…ache for you….”
Caught in a spinning whirlwind of desire Gloria was aware that his pulse was racing as wildly as hers. She was causing this! His virile, vitally strong body was reacting to hers! It was something she'd never e
xperienced with Marvin. Stirred by this incredible discovery, she met his passion with intimate sensuousness and parted her lips to run the tip of her tongue across his mouth.
“God! Sweetheart…help me to stop this…while I still can!”
“No!” Her chin tilted almost fearlessly, as joyous thoughts whirled and flitted through her mind. I'm doing what I want, for once. This is dangerous, but it could very well be the most precious moment of my life!
She moved her hips against him in an instinctive invitation as old as time. Finding what her body had craved for so long, Gloria ignored the warning signals flashing in her brain and allowed the warmth of his desire and tenderness to wash over her. The world could be ending the next minute and her only concern would be to stay with him, relieve them both of the trembling hunger bedeviling them.
“Don't tease me, Glory!” he whispered hoarsely. His lips ravaged her face from cheek to chin. “Night after lonely night I've thought about being with you like this.”
“I'm not teasing….” She moaned desperately, her face flaming with shame.
“It's everything or nothing! Say it, now, while I can still leave you!” he said raggedly.
She burrowed her face into the softness of his beard. “Don't leave me,” she whispered, her voice anxious. “Love me, Jack.”
“You're sure?”
“Please!”
Her plea seemed to act as a potent aphrodisiac. His body responded with violent trembling. He pulled her roughly against his hard arousal, as if to leave her no doubt that he was desperate for her. “Oh, sweet one…”
Jack stood and lifted her in his arms. A half-dozen strides brought him to Ethel's bedroom. The only light in the room was what came through the open doorway from the living room. He stood her on her feet and put his arms around her. They stood for a long moment, arms wrapped around each other, close, savoring the feel of standing for the first time in each other's arms. His face was against the top of her head, hers in the curve of his neck.
“I'm afraid to leave you,” he muttered thickly. “I'm afraid you'll not be here when I come back. Sweetheart…sweet, sweet girl…I must go lock the door, turn off the TV, and the vacancy light—”
“I'll be here. Hurry.”
He left her, and she turned her back to the door. Her eyes were wide open, staring at nothing. Her mind grappled, not with what she was doing, but with her lack of sexual experience and the violence of her own need for him to make love to her. She had experienced nothing but humiliation at the hands of her husband, and her female heart cried out to know if that was all there was. Please, God, show me that what happens between a man and a woman can be beautiful.
It seemed to her she had stood there for an eternity before arms encircled her from behind, and warm lips and a soft beard nuzzled the sensitive spot below her ear. His hands moved to cup her breasts, squeezing them gently.
“You're the most utterly feminine woman I've ever met.” Gloria closed her eyes and let the soft purr of his voice and the feel of his hands consume her. “You've bewitched me. I seem to have lost control where you're concerned.”
“Oh, Jack…” His persuasive whisper, the touch of his hands, called out to a deep need inside her, and the explosion of sensation choked off her voice.
“My head says stay away from you, but my hands want to know every soft curve of your body.” He moved his hand down to pull her tightly back against him. “Glory, Glory, come quench this thirst I have for you!”
When she didn't answer, or move, he backed up a step with her in his arms, sat down on Ethel's bed, and pulled her onto his lap. She clung to his shoulders, which were wide and powerful and sheltering. The feel of his body, the stroking of his hands, the warm moistness of his breath, and the love spilling from her heart erased the last shred of her inhibitions, and with a soft cry she gave herself up to the sweet abandonment he was urging upon her, telling herself that no matter what happened in the morning, she could face it if she had this night to remember always.
Their mouths met and were no longer gentle. They kissed deeply, hungrily. His hand found her breast, cupped and lifted it. Her own fingers curled feverishly into the solid muscle of his back, and her lips ravaged his neck. When his fingers moved to the front zipper of her jeans her hand went automatically to his and he stopped immediately.
“Do you have doubts?” he moaned hoarsely against her cheek.
“No…no….” Her hand caressed his silky beard. “It's just…I'm afraid you'll think I'm…easy.”
A low protest came from his throat. “Easy? Oh, God, no! You're anything but that. I'm thinking you're so small, so perfect, so beautiful—I get the feeling you've not done this before…yet I know you have. But I don't want to think of it, or for you to think of it. I want you to think I'm your first, that you're mine alone,” he murmured.
She felt a sweetness, a rightness, when he lowered her to the bed and stretched out beside her. She gave a shiver of pure pleasure when he unbuttoned her shirt and slipped it off her shoulders. Slowly he tugged her jeans down over her hips, but left her panties in place. When he left her to take off his clothes, she lifted the covers and moved between the sheets.
She wasn't prepared for the warmth or the strength of his hard, muscular body, the long, hairy legs against her, the enormous arms under and around her. Her trembling body was gathered tenderly to a warm, naked chest thickly matted with soft hair.
“Sweetheart…” He smoothed her hair back from her face. Even now his concern was for her, and she cherished it.
“I can't believe I'm here with you, like this.” Even as she spoke, her hands clutched him closer, her stomach muscles tightened, her breathing and heartbeat were all mixed up. I love him, she thought wildly. I wouldn't be here in bed with him if I didn't love him. Oh, dear heaven! It's happened so fast. It's unreal that I'm doing this, feeling this.
“Glory, Glory. You're every sweet dream I've ever dreamed, every fantasy.” His hungry mouth searched, found hers, and held it with fierce but tender possession. His hands moved urgently over her, and she felt as if her heart would gallop right out of her breast.
She wanted to speak, to tell him she was still a girl in a woman's body, that she was afraid of the hurt that would follow this giving of herself. She opened her mouth to voice her fears, but it was too late. He covered her parted lips, his tongue darting hotly in and out of her mouth, exploring every curve of the sweetness that trembled beneath his demanding kiss. She moaned gently and panted for breath.
“Are you shy with me?” he whispered between kisses. “Don't be. I'll not do anything you don't want me to do. You're beautiful. Your little body is tight and neat. Your skin is soft—like velvet….” His fingers fumbled with the hooks on her bra, then swept it from her breasts. He nuzzled them gently, kissed them reverently, and then for the first time she experienced having her nipples pressed to a man's lips. His hand pushed at her panties and she lifted her hips to help him.
So this is what it's like to really make love with a man, she thought dreamily, and threaded her legs between his. His sex was large and firm and throbbed against her stomach. She gloried in the feel of him, knowing that soon he could fill that aching emptiness. Her hands moved over his ribs and sides, down over his back to his hips.
He kissed her breast; his tongue flicked the bud, then he grasped it gently with his teeth. The softness of his beard was a silky caress on her stomach. Tremors shot through her with earth-shaking waves as his exploring fingers moved over her body, prowling ever closer to the ultimate goal. Suddenly they were there, sliding into the mysterious moistness. She welcomed the gentle probing with parted thighs and an urgency that incited him to lift his mouth to hers in a kiss that stripped away everything but the need to assuage the ache building to unbearable heights within her. He slid smoothly over her body and she welcomed the weight that pressed onto her.
“Now? Little sweet one…now?” he murmured, and sought entrance while she waited in rapt and aching anguish. She
pressed herself to him, her arms winding tightly around his neck. She was caught up in overpowering desire and the need for physical release. “Oh, Lord! You're so small, so tight. Will I hurt you?” His chest heaved as he attempted to control his breathing.
“You won't hurt me, darling. Don't stop!” she pleaded, her need for him overcoming her shyness. Her hands feverishly clung to him, holding him tightly while she rained fervent kisses on his mouth.
He raised his head, his eyes searching her passionclouded ones, and then with a muttered whisper he closed his arms about her in fierce demand. He moved into her, reverently guiding her to accept the gently rhythmic sliding. This joining would be forever imprinted in her memory. She was part of this man. He was the universe, vibrating with all the love in the world, and he was lifting her to undreamed of sensual heights, reaching, reaching….
He supported himself on his forearms, tangled his hands in her hair. “I wanted our first time to be long and sweet…but, darling…I can't wait much longer!”
“You…don't have to wait….” She arched to impale herself more completely on his throbbing warmth.
“Oh, God! Oh, love—” He probed urgently, turning this way and that, and moaned with pleasure.
Gloria desperately wanted what they were reaching for, dreaded missing it, and quivered with expectation beneath the pressure of his body. She clung to him, aware only of that thrusting, pulsing rhythm increasing unbearably to a tempo that brought her higher…higher—
She came languidly back to reality and found her hands clasping Jack's tight buttocks, his bearded face pressed to her neck. He was still huge and deep inside her, but the waves of frenzied pleasure that had ripped through her were subsiding. In their place swelled a burning desire to comfort and pleasure him. Her hands moved lovingly over him, smoothed his hair back from his face, stroked it, hugged his head to her breast. With utmost tenderness she pressed her lips to his forehead. She had learned the mysteries about which she had read and imagined, but which she'd never truly believed were accompanied by such overwhelmingly forceful feelings. It was almost as if they were totally and completely in love!
Wishmakers Page 26
