Cavanaugh Rules: Cavanaugh RulesCavanaugh Reunion

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Cavanaugh Rules: Cavanaugh RulesCavanaugh Reunion Page 13

by Marie Ferrarella


  He didn’t know.

  All he knew was that once he and Kendra had begun making love, he became determined that this was the experience she would remember no matter how many years she lived.

  Because God knew he was going to remember it even with his dying breath.

  That was the surprise of it. Wanting to pleasure her, he’d uncovered a world of pleasure himself. So much so that part of him wanted it to continue and stretch out as long as humanly possible.

  But he knew his limitations, his boundaries. He had reached the end of his tether and it was time for the final volley.

  Shifting his body over hers, Matt drew her into his arms, kissing her over and over again and then he began the final phase.

  A new wave of passion washed over him as he entered her.

  One was made out of two.

  And then, with swift, sure movements, the upward ascent began, growing quicker and quicker in tempo. As they clung to each other, both scrambled to the highest point on the peak before them.

  Eighteen months of celibacy exploded within Kendra the moment she and Matt reached that much-desired plateau together.

  Euphoria embraced her as hard as Abilene did, holding her tightly in its grasp as her heart hammered wildly.

  She was panting as if she’d just sprinted the last mile of a twenty-six-mile marathon.

  Kendra clutched on to the moment—and the man—knowing in her heart that both would be gone from her life all too soon.

  But they were here now, in the moment, and that was all that mattered to her.

  Tomorrow was still an eternity away.

  Chapter 12

  “You know what this means, don’t you?”

  Abilene’s question broke the silence that had been hanging between them these last few minutes as euphoria receded and the world came back into focus.

  Kendra slanted a wary glance at him. Instinctively, she braced herself, although exactly for what she was unable to say.

  She could feel her body tensing anyway.

  “What?” she asked, her voice toneless. If he was going to say something flippant, she was determined to be blasé.

  “Well, the way I see it,” Matt began slowly, struggling to keep the grin out of his voice. It was a short battle and he lost. “We’re going to have to change your name from Good to Fantastic.” He shifted so that he was able to face her now. “Or maybe some word that’s even better than that. What’s better than fantastic?” he asked her.

  “Your ability to spout absolute nonsense,” she told him, shaking her head.

  She was doing her best to look irritated, but there was no denying that inwardly, she was grinning fit to kill. Matt was teasing her, but also telling her that he had enjoyed their interlude just as much as she had.

  “I beg to differ,” he contradicted. “You were not on the receiving end of you.” He grinned as he wound a long, blond strand of her hair around his finger, absently noting how soft and silky it felt. Just the way she did. “I was.”

  Kendra could never really handle genuine compliments of any sort for more than a second—and this was a whole new level of compliment—without blushing or feeling awkward. Or both.

  “Kendra,” she blurted out. “My name is Kendra. You can call me Kendra, or, on a good day—and if I let you—you can call me Kenny. Or you can call me Cavanaugh if you want to keep it strictly business.”

  “Only when we have our clothes on,” he told her, teasingly referring to the “strictly business” comment she’d just made. And then he replayed her words in his head. “Wait. What? Back up a minute. You said I could call you Cavanaugh?”

  She sighed. Now where was he going with this? “That’s right.”

  Curious, Matt propped himself up on his elbow and looked down into her face. “When did you make up your mind about that?”

  She supposed she owed him an explanation—and if she withheld it, he’d poke and prod at her until she told him. Might as well get it over with now and spare them both.

  “When I saw how happy my father was today. He looked as if he’d finally found his niche.” Her father was very dear to her and it was nice seeing him like that. God knew he deserved all the happiness he could find after struggling to be both mother and father to all seven of them.

  “And he hadn’t before?” Matt asked, curious. As he spoke, he slowly drew his fingertips along the inviting curve of her hip, skin against skin. Seemingly oblivious to the effect he was having on her.

  But she knew better.

  “Not entirely,” Kendra admitted. She was trying to appear aloof, but it was difficult to concentrate on what she was saying. Her body began to vibrate in anticipation again.

  “The Cavellis are all good, decent people, but I always had the impression that Dad felt kind of out of sync around them.” She tried to give him an example. “You know, like when you have a pair of shoes that don’t quite fit, even though they’re the right size— Will you please stop that?” she finally said, unable to pretend that she was unaffected any longer. “I can’t think straight when you do that.”

  “And do you want to?” He shifted again, this time his body provocatively touching hers. “Think straight?” he asked innocently—but there was definite mischief in his eyes.

  “Yes, of course I want to think straight— Oh, the hell with it,” she cried, giving up.

  And with that, she wound her arms around his neck and kissed him, surrendering any and all pretense of indifference to the magic that this man conjured up whenever he so much as touched her.

  “My sentiments exactly,” he echoed with a laugh. The next second, Matt lost himself within her.

  The body wash she’d used that morning still managed to linger along her skin and it was filling his head, effectively adding to the heat swirling through his veins.

  Although she would have never suspected it, making love the second time with Matt was even better than the first time. The stakes had become even higher, the need to pleasure, to excite, even greater.

  There was nothing “business as usual” about this second trek through the fiery regions of Matthew Abilene’s lovemaking.

  He surprised her in a hundred different ways.

  She was surprised by her own wild desire, by the ever-shifting newness of his techniques and by her own unbridled responses to what he was doing to her.

  And she was equally surprised by her almost fierce desire to bring this man with the fabulous lips and tongue up just as high, making him just as mind-numbingly delirious as she was.

  And the most frightening part of this second encounter with Matt was that it only made her want more. Made her want to do this heated, frenzied meeting of bodies and spirits again and again to the exclusion of absolutely everything else.

  This lovemaking came before eating, sleeping, breathing.

  Before everything.

  She wanted this passion, this insatiable desire to continue forever, without end. Logic, something she’d always bowed to, dictated otherwise. But she had no use for logic—not tonight. Not here, not now.

  But eventually, despite their youth and their stamina, sheer exhaustion caught up to them both. It had already made away with their ability to think or make any sort of decisions.

  They fell asleep in each other’s arms. Kendra had absolutely no memory of when.

  * * *

  The gleeful noises of raised voices followed by the sound of water being splashed penetrated Kendra’s subconscious a number of times, going deeper each time.

  It finally roused her and she had no choice but to reluctantly wake up and open her eyes.

  Kendra’s first bewildered thought was that she had no idea where she was.

  But then the weight of the very masculine, very muscular arm lying across her chest caused her memory to return.

  Abilene.

  She’d slept with Abilene.

  Over and over again.

  Each thought, coming on the heels of the last, alarmed her more and more.

/>   Oh, God, what had she done in a moment of absolute weakness and insanity? Was she completely out of her mind?

  Not that it hadn’t been wondrous. Even looking back, in a growing state of panic, she still had to admit to that. The man had a fabulous technique—she had to give him his due.

  An extraordinary technique learned and perfected, no doubt over a period of time, on heaven only knew how many willing young women who had passed through the man’s life and through his bedroom sheets. Sheets that they’d moved to at some point during the night and that were now wrapped around her.

  But what was going to become of their working relationship now that they’d been this intimate? Was he going to expect to “grab a little loving” as Jason used to call it, whenever the spirit moved him?

  When they were going over a crime scene and were left on their own, would he suddenly have an itch he wanted scratched?

  She would have to set Abilene straight about that right up front. Otherwise, this just wasn’t going to work.

  Okay, that was the plan, she told herself. The minute he woke up, they were going to talk.

  “So who won?”

  Startled, she almost yelped. Instead, she pressed her lips together, shifted and saw that Abilene was looking at her.

  Grinning.

  The big dumb lug was awake. For how long? Had he been staring at her the whole time? Why hadn’t she known that?

  Her brain felt like a briar patch, all tangled up and thorny.

  And what the hell was he talking about, anyway? “What?” she asked, confused.

  “Who won?” he repeated. “You had this look on your face like you were conducting some sort of an argument in your head. I was just wondering which side won, that’s all.”

  When had she become this transparent, and to him of all people?

  “Nobody ‘won,’ ” she retorted.

  What did he think, that she heard voices?

  Well, don’t you? Sometimes? Just calm down, she schooled herself.

  Taking a breath, Kendra was just about to tell her partner about the ground rules she felt needed reinforcing, but she never got the chance. He interrupted her again.

  “Oh, good, then you’re not renouncing or denouncing anything that went on last night,” Abilene concluded, pleased.

  That made her stop for a moment.

  “Does that happen often for you?” she asked. What kind of a woman made love with him and then turned around to revile him about it? Maybe he was so light-hearted in his relationships because he was afraid that something might set her off.

  Stop defending the man. Sometimes a wolf is just a wolf, not an enchanted prince, she reminded herself sternly.

  “Nope.” It didn’t happen at all, because the women he picked all knew the rules ahead of time. “But then, I have to admit, you’re not like the rest.”

  Right, I’m “special.” And if I believe that, you have a bridge you want to sell me—retail.

  “Nice platitude,” she quipped out loud. “Is that supposed to make me breathe a sigh of relief and then, out of gratitude, issue you carte blanche so you can feel free to do anything you want with me once we’re outside of work?”

  He knew if he laughed, she was liable to haul off and hit him. Getting annoyed at her sarcastic tone would probably get him the same reaction.

  So he held the laugh in check and tried honesty.

  “No, that’s supposed to let you know that I think you’re unique right down to your toes.” He could see that she was tensing, as if she expected some kind of a confrontation on some level. “Easy, Cavanaugh, I wasn’t planning on another go-round, at least, not without an invitation.” Although, God knew, just looking at her had him ready and able. “Now, since this is my place, what would you like for breakfast?”

  “My clothes.”

  Matt never missed a beat. “Boiled, scrambled, sunny-side up?” he asked as if she were talking about eggs and hadn’t just requested the shorts and shirt that had heated him up so much in the first place. “By the way, you’re welcome to stay just as you are for as long as you’d like.”

  In response, she slid off the bed, tugging the sheet around her as she went. Somehow, she managed to do it regally, looking like a displaced Greek goddess in search of a private section of heaven for herself. As far as he was concerned—at least for this morning—heaven was right here, held captive in Kendra’s eyes.

  She still hadn’t said anything about what she wanted to eat. And she definitely wasn’t taking him up on his suggestion that she remain just as she was.

  “Okay, be that way,” he said good-naturedly. “Since you made no requests, I’m making a Denver omelet,” he informed her.

  Instead of putting on any of the clothes that had been haphazardly discarded on the rug, Matt stood up, incredibly oblivious to his naked state, and walked over to the small bureau. Opening a drawer, he took out a pair of washed-out denim shorts that were badly frayed along both cuffs and pulled them on.

  Kendra chastised herself for not being able to tear her eyes away. He really was a magnificent specimen of manhood.

  “Don’t you want to put on underwear first?” she heard herself asking.

  He shrugged dismissively. “I’m just throwing something on to make breakfast. I’ll get more formal after my shower,” he promised.

  Breakfast. Abilene’d been serious about his offer, then. Now that was surprising. “You really cook?” she asked.

  “Haven’t killed anyone yet,” he told her matter-of-factly.

  Which brought her back to the amount of traffic this apartment had to have seen in the last few years. That should keep her grounded, she thought. She was just one of many.

  “So it’s a package deal?” Kendra asked him flippantly. “You serve up a hot night and then a hot meal in the morning?”

  “You make it sound like a bed-and-breakfast pamphlet,” he said, amused. “And to answer your question, no, it’s not a package deal. At least, not usually,” he amended because, after all, wasn’t that what he was doing right now? “Let’s just say that you bring out the best in me.”

  She didn’t understand. “But you just said you’ve never managed to kill anyone with your cooking—if you weren’t talking about women who’ve spent the night with you, who were you talking about?” she asked. It was obvious that she didn’t believe him and was just curious to see how Abilene intended to wiggle out of this.

  “My mother,” he told her simply. By the way she was staring at him, he knew she hadn’t been expecting that for an answer. But it was true. “When I was growing up—and there wasn’t some guy she’d opened up her heart to lying in bed next to her—she’d hold down sometimes two, three part-time jobs, trying to make ends meet for the two of us. That left her pretty tired. So on Sundays, I’d get up early, sneak into the kitchen and make her breakfast with whatever I could find in the refrigerator.”

  For a second, Matt had left her almost speechless. But she rallied quickly enough.

  “My God, you sound like some kid in one of those after-school specials that they used to love to air on the Family Channel,” she told him, getting somewhat accustomed to the plaintive puppy-dog eyes he had turned her way.

  “Too tame?” Matt asked, amused, as he began to walk out of the bedroom and into the small kitchen.

  Kendra trailed after him, still wearing the sheet around her like a flowing toga. She moved more slowly than she liked, careful not to trip over the excess material. That would have been all she needed, to fall flat on her face in front of him. With her luck, the sheet would somehow unravel, leaving her far more exposed than she would have liked.

  Kendra paused to awkwardly pick up her discarded shorts, top and the undergarments that went with them. Clutching them against her, she followed Matt the rest of the way into the kitchen.

  She was having trouble reconciling what he’d just told her with the image she had of him. “That helpful little wide-eyed boy doesn’t really jibe with what I know about you.”
/>
  He opened up a cabinet and took out a heavy iron skillet, placing it on a burner adjacent to another, smaller pan. Watching him, she decided that maybe the man actually did know his way around a kitchen.

  “You mean with what you think you know about me,” he corrected.

  Oh, now he was going to tell her that he was a closet saint? “What? What I saw in public is just your secret identity and this is the real you? You’re a master chef who perfected his skills making Sunday brunch for his mother?”

  “It was breakfast, not brunch,” he corrected. “And I didn’t claim to be a master—at least not at cooking,” he said, looking at her over his shoulder. The sexy grin on his lips went straight to her gut as if it was mounted on an arrow that he’d just shot. “People are complex, Cavanaugh.” Opening the refrigerator, he began to take out what he needed. Unlike when he’d been a boy, this refrigerator was well stocked and had a lot for him to choose from. “You ought to know that.”

  The last remark had her radar going up. Was that a crack? About what, exactly? “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Did she want to pick a fight? he wondered. Why? Because she’d enjoyed herself too much and was now waiting for him to disappoint her somehow, the way her fiancé had? Or was she just plain ornery?

  He had a feeling it wasn’t the latter.

  “That you’re not the only one with several layers,” he answered simply. “Why don’t you take a shower while I make breakfast?” he suggested, his voice mild, completely nonconfrontational. And then he grinned wickedly as he added, “Unless you want to wait until I’m finished out here and then we can take a shower together.”

  “Worried about conserving water?” she asked. California had its share of droughts off and on and they were never completely out of the woods.

  But to her dismay, rather than take the bait, Matt wound up disarming her again with another sensual grin.

  “Conserving energy was the very last thing on my mind when I suggested showering together.”

  Meaning she would have found out what it was like to make love in a shower stall while her body was being pelted by water.

 

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