Eden Burning

by Elizabeth Lowell

  “Then what—oh,” she said, understanding.

  “Is ‘oh’ the Hawaiian word for two in a shower? If so, then most definitely oh.”

  She felt heat climbing up from her breasts. Turning, she fled toward the shower before Chase could see her blush. She felt completely lost. Didn’t know up from down. Floundering.

  She knew what it was like to have sex with a man, but she had never shared a shower with one.

  You’ve never been naked in your own living room with a man, either, she reminded herself, and that didn’t hurt, did it?

  Her nipples tingled and pouted all over again at the memory of his hot, gentle mouth. No, it hadn’t hurt one bit. It had been like nothing she had ever known. The thought of feeling him that way again was dizzying, delicious.

  She drew a steadying breath and turned on the water, letting it warm up while she divided her hair into two halves and pulled one over each shoulder. With trembling fingers she began to braid the right side.

  Instead of barging in and running his hands all over her the way he wanted to, he stood with his arms crossed on his chest and leaned against the bathroom doorway, memorizing the picture she made standing nude in front of the mirror.

  Clean, long limbs. Elegant fingers. Lips flushed and moist. Her hair spilled over her creamy skin, concealing most of her body like a fiery cloak. Most, but not all. The sweet curves of her buttocks made his palms sweat. One tight pink nipple poked out through the silky strands she was impatiently braiding.

  “Can I help?” Chase’s voice was as light as he was determined to be; she had looked almost frightened before she fled to the shower.

  “Can you braid hair?” Nicole asked in surprise, looking over her shoulder.

  Straightening, he gave her a wounded look that made him appear ten years younger. “Of course I can. The first thing they taught us in summer camp was how to braid key chains for our fathers and necklaces for our mothers. I always thought it was the damnedest waste of time—until now.”

  She smiled.

  He walked the two steps that brought him close to her. When she turned to face him, his hand stroked the long fall of hair that covered her left breast, tumbled in loose swirls to her waist, and finally blended with the fiery hair between her thighs.

  At the first touch of his fingers, the tip of Nicole’s breast hardened so swiftly that it was almost painful. Almost, but not quite.

  The difference was a stroke of sensual fire that was a revelation to her. Her eyes widened, and her breath came in sharply. He bent down until the tip of his tongue just touched the nipple that had responded so instantly to his touch.

  “Hello,” he said, nuzzling the taut flesh. “Do I know you?”

  She was torn between laughter and a moan as his mouth tugged gently at the nipple. His sensual teasing was as new to her as the sensations radiating from her breast to the core of her body. Streamers of heat shimmered through her with each movement of his tongue.

  He lifted his head and admired the tight, glistening peak his tongue had shaped. “Now I recognize you. We met just a few minutes ago. You have a friend nearby, don’t you?”

  Nicole made a throaty sound that was part laughter, part pleasure as Chase nuzzled between the red strands covering her other nipple. She let go of the braid she was working on and threaded her fingers into the much more satisfying thickness of his hair. Unconsciously she held his head to her breast, wanting to prolong the sweet caress.

  His long fingers slid beneath her hair to curl around her breasts, taking their weight in his palms. For an instant fear shot through her, a defensive withdrawal from intimacy. Her husband’s hands had been even more careless of her delicate flesh than his mouth had been, especially when he was aroused.

  And she had little doubt that Chase was aroused. The evidence of it was plain and hard against his lavalava.

  Chase felt Nicole flinch away when his thumbs caressed her hardened nipples. Reluctantly he removed his hands from her breasts.

  “Sorry,” he said, going back to braiding her hair. “I’d better concentrate on something I’m good at.”

  After a few moments she said in a strained voice, “That’s not it.”

  “You mean I’m not good at braiding?” he asked, then brushed his lips over the nipple peeking out from between strands of hair.

  “That’s not—” Nicole’s breath broke. She swallowed and tried again. “It’s just that—”

  “Did I hurt you?” he interrupted, his voice quiet.

  She shook her head, looked away, and wondered how she could tell him that it wasn’t his fault. It was hers.

  His index finger tilted her chin up until she had to look him in the eye.

  “Tell me if I do,” he said simply. “I know that a man my size can make a woman nervous.”

  She searched his gray eyes for a long moment, nodded, and felt her nerves relax again.

  It was one of the hardest things he had ever done, but Chase confined himself to braiding her hair, ignoring the ruby-tipped temptation of her breasts so close to hand. Her hesitations and withdrawals puzzled him. Granted, he might have rushed her a little, but he was a long way from forcing the issue.

  And she was a long way from being unwilling.

  Suddenly he realized what was making her skittish. Mentally he kicked himself for forgetting, even for a moment, what was at stake. She must understand Dane as well as his older brother did. The instant she became Chase’s lover, any possibility of seducing Dane away from Jan was gone.

  No wonder she’s nervous, he thought. But even as he understood, he couldn’t help admiring the long, dark eyelashes that concealed Nicole’s eyes as she looked down at his hands braiding her hair. From what I’ve seen, Dane really likes you, but he hasn’t climbed into bed with you, or you wouldn’t be here with me.

  From Nicole’s point of view, she was taking a real risk. Dane was better-looking than his older, bigger brother. Dane was also civilized, rich, more than half in love with Nicole despite his marriage. Pretty good cards to be holding in the seduction game. Yet she was gambling all that on a toss in the hay with a man who was rich, not very civilized, and hadn’t said one damn thing about liking or loving her.

  But Chase wasn’t married, and he was more than willing to take her to bed.

  He looked at her softly trembling mouth and almost felt sorry for her. You’re hoping that I’ll still want you afterward, but you’re too hungry to wait and be sure. That’s quite a risk you’re taking on me, Pele. More than you know. More than you’re going to know until you wake up alone, with no rich Wilcox to comfort you and no hope of one.

  But there are other rich fools in the world. You’ll find one to take care of you. Women like you always do.

  Chase finished the braid and backed away from Nicole. As she lifted her arms to tuck her braids into place on top of her head, he saw the elegant sensuality of her body fully revealed for the first time. It loosened his knees.

  God, I almost envy the man you finally sell yourself to.

  Desire slammed through him in hot, rhythmic surges as he looked at her, all of her. He wanted even more than he saw, wanted what he couldn’t see, wanted the lush, hot, hidden flesh that would wrap around him and milk him dry.

  Turning toward the mirror, Nicole anchored the braids on top of her head with the skill of long practice. As she did, she felt Chase standing close behind her, watching her in the full-length bathroom mirror. The look on his face sent both fear and a strange heat through her. Her husband had looked at her like that when she was naked, and then he had taken her quickly, roughly, as though punishing her for something she had done.

  She had learned to fear that expression on a man’s face.

  But Chase had been so very gentle with her. His caresses had given her more pleasure than she had ever believed was possible for her. The fact that he wanted her didn’t necessarily mean that he would hurt her.

  Besides, the picture he made standing behind her, naked but for the lavalava
riding low on his hips, made her body tingle in hidden places. It was another of the new, delicious sensations she wanted to explore. When she met his eyes in the mirror, she hesitantly smiled.

  With a single twisting motion, he stripped off his few clothes. He saw her eyes widen in surprise and something close to fear when she saw his readiness for sex reflected in the mirror. Smoothly he blocked the view of his erection by standing behind her. When his hands came up to rest on her shoulders, he felt her flinch again.

  “Like I said,” he murmured, brushing his lips across the nape of her neck, “sometimes I make a woman nervous. It’s all right, Pele. I know my own strength. I won’t hurt you.”

  As though his palms could taste her if he just went very slowly, very gently, he stroked her from her shoulders to her hips. He repeated the long caress, but this time down the front of her body, shaping her breasts and waist and the resilient curve of her thighs. The pressure of his hands eased her against him until there was nothing between them but the heat of their own bodies.

  “Don’t worry, little one.” He kissed the curve of her neck while his hands caressed her thighs. “We’ll fit together very well.”

  After a final, lingering stroke, Chase turned away, opened the shower door, and stepped in.

  Nicole stared after him, too surprised to move.

  Little one.

  She shook her head as though to wake up from a dream. Little one! She had never thought of herself as small in her whole life. But then, compared to Chase, most people were just that. Small.

  Bemused, she followed him into the shower, her nervousness overshadowed by the novelty of being considered petite. The fact that he obviously understood her fears about sex and wanted her anyway was a balm on her raw pride. She was right to trust her instincts.

  She was right to trust him.

  Realistically she knew that the first few times they made love would probably be difficult for her. Nothing, not even his gentleness, could magically erase reflexes learned in the past at such cost. But even as she accepted that, she knew that the tension in her body owed as much to anticipation as to anxiety. She wasn’t afraid anymore that he would hurt her and keep on hurting her until he found his own satisfaction.

  Chase stood to one side of the shower to make room for her and held his hand out to her. When she stepped forward, warm water spilled over her. Ginger-scented soap filled the steamy enclosure with fragrance. Lather slipped from his hands down his body as he soaped his shoulders. The glistening white streams heightened the darkness of his skin and the midnight mat of hair curling down his chest. The intriguing pelt narrowed to a finger’s width at his ribs and ran like an arrow down his torso, pointing toward his sex.

  She wanted to run her hands beneath the lather, to know each masculine swell of muscle and length of tendon, to feel the heat and strength of his body beneath her palms. But she didn’t dare. In the early months of her marriage, when she had tried to please her husband, she quickly learned that touching him only shortened the time before he took her.

  She wanted to stretch out every moment she had before Chase discovered her drawbacks as a lover. The sensations she was feeling now were too new, too fragile, too sweet to risk ending simply because she couldn’t control her own foolish impulses to stroke him.

  When Nicole reached for the soap, Chase shook his head and turned her so that she was facing away from him, shielded from the full force of the water by his broad back. Big, warm, soapy hands began rubbing over her skin. Strong thumbs traced the length of her spine with long, caressing motions. Broad, callused palms first stroked and then cupped the full curves of her buttocks, savoring her difference from him, making her feel sleek and very feminine.

  When his fingers traced the shadow cleft at the base of her spine, she shivered with pleasure. He touched her hidden warmth once, tenderly, then withdrew with a slow care that sent stirrings of fire through her.

  Very gently he closed his teeth on the nape of her neck. The helpless shiver of her response sent an answering echo through him. He slid his hands around her waist, seeking other pleasure points. Fingers spread wide, he pressed one palm just above her fiery nest of hair while his other found and caressed one breast. His hands moved slowly, skillfully, while his teeth lightly teased her sensitive nape.

  Caught between the loving movements of his hands and his mouth, Nicole trembled. Then her body began to move in silky response, increasing the sweet pressure of his caresses.

  She wished that she could stroke him without bringing a fast end to the delicious sensual play. For the first time in her life she wanted to touch a man as intimately as she herself was being touched. The hardness of his body had become an irresistible lure, and his strength excited rather than intimidated her now.

  Even feeling his erection pressed against her hip didn’t frighten her. With his hands stroking her so sweetly, learning her, knowing her, teasing her, there simply wasn’t any room for fear. All she could feel was heat climbing slowly inside her, radiating through her, making her tremble with tiny, secret ripples.

  A lifetime of undiscovered sensuality was stirring and awakening beneath his gentle touch.

  When Chase sensed the softening of Nicole’s body, both triumph and desire raked through him. Her response told him that she wasn’t worrying anymore about choosing the wrong rich brother. She was beginning to want him, truly want him.

  She was beginning to come apart in his hands.

  For an instant he was afraid that the feel of her slowly twisting hips was going to cost what self-control he had. Having her move against him like this was what he had wanted since the first time he had seen her dance to the slow beat of Bobby’s drums, her hair swaying in blazing counterpoint to the stately elegance of the hula.

  “Turn around,” he said, his voice a husky command beneath the sound of the falling water. “I want your mouth, Pele. Do you want mine?”

  Yet even as he spoke, he continued stroking her, making her choose between his caressing hands and the sensual promise of his kiss. The temptations were too new, too alluring. She couldn’t make the choice. With a small, helpless sound, she tilted her head back against his shoulder, offering her mouth in the only way she could without interrupting the incredibly sweet seduction of his hands.

  When Nicole half turned, her hip rubbed against aroused flesh. Heat exploded in him, making his pulse beat visibly in his erection. His tongue slid between her lips, tasting her, inviting her to taste him in return. She strained up to him, caught in a sensual vise that was tightening with each movement of his palm against the tangled, fiery hair nestled between her thighs.

  He didn’t ask her to choose again. He shifted his hands, turning her toward him. With shivering pleasure he eased his hot, aching flesh between her thighs, teaching her that there were many ways for a man to caress a woman.

  Bracing his arms against the wall on either side of her, he let her feel some of the weight of his body in a long, slick caress. The coolness of the tiled shower wall against her back was heady, exciting, so different from the textured heat of the male body pressing against her, stroking her from her mouth to her toes and teasing the hot folds between her thighs.

  Recklessly she put her arms around him, running her hungry palms down his back. In a wild, breathless silence broken only by the rushing of water, she learned the hard patterns of his muscle and tendon, the rippling strength that had fascinated her since the first moment she saw him calling elemental rhythms from the drums.

  His back shifted slowly, powerfully beneath her hands as he twisted into her touch, drawing every bit of pleasure from her hands while his tongue stroked hers, promising her even greater pleasures. The small, hungry sound she made when he caught her tongue between his teeth drew a groan of response from him. He thrust deeply into her mouth and moved slowly against her, caressing her with his whole body.

  It wasn’t nearly enough. He was just skimming the tender edges of desire. He had to be inside her, all the way in, until she
clenched around him and cried out her climax.

  The need to bury himself in her was an ache and a wild pressure. For an instant he considered taking her in the shower. Then he remembered her hesitations and knew that he had to keep his control for a little bit longer.

  “I’ve had about all the shower I can take,” he said, biting her neck not quite gently. “How about you?”

  “I’ve never had so much fun in a shower in my life.” Her voice caught as she looked at him, her eyes wide and catlike in the shower’s filtered, steamy light.

  Smiling, he rubbed against her again, drawing out the sensual moment. Her eyes half closed as pleasure shivered visibly through her. He jerked with a surge of heat that nearly undid him. For a shattered breath he almost let go and to hell with it, because he had never seen anything as sexy as her response to even the lightest of his touches.

  But before he came, he would make her scream with ecstasy. Then he would know that her need was as great as his.

  With an effort, he forced himself to turn away from her and shut off the water. He stepped out into the relative coolness of the bathroom and looked around.

  “Towels?” he asked.

  Then he saw her watching him in the mirror. Her expression was more curious than afraid and more appreciative than anything else.

  “Forget the towels,” he said thickly. “In this heat we wouldn’t stay dry for more than a few seconds anyway.”

  His hand drew her out of the shower into a hot, slick embrace. She came to him without hesitation, molding herself to his powerful body, clinging to him with her mouth and hands. When he lifted his head, his breathing was quick, strained, and his hands moved restlessly, urgently over her body.

  “I’m having a hell of a time keeping my hands off you long enough to get you to bed,” he muttered.

  “I don’t mind.” She smiled to herself while her hands rubbed across the fascinating textures of his chest. When she felt the sudden hardening of his nipple beneath her palm, she remembered her own wild pleasure when his lips had caressed her. “I enjoy this. Do you?”