She drew her knees to her chest and held her pillow tighter. Her mother had tried to warn her that he wasn’t for her. She tried to tell herself. But then she’d blindly fallen in love with him. As if she had a chance to make it work with a man like him. As if this really was a fairy tale and she was Cinderella and the handsome prince was going to make everything work out all right.
The pain inside of her grew until it threatened to consume her. She couldn’t breathe anymore. In an effort to gain control she told herself that the hurt didn’t matter, but she knew it did. She had responsibilities. However much she might be hurt now, she had a life she had to live. Somehow she needed to find the strength to see Jonathan again and do it in such a way that he wouldn’t know she’d been the least bit upset by what had happened tonight. She needed to face him with cool confidence, the veneer of sophistication firmly in place. He probably expected her to act like a child, but she would be the adult in the relationship. With her head held high.
In the morning she would get up and look him and the world in the eye. She would be strong. But for tonight, while she was all alone, she needed to lie here and ache.
A splash of light cut across her tightly closed eyes. She sensed and shifted, then looked up. Much to her horror, Jonathan stood standing in the doorway of her bedroom. She gulped back a sob and wondered what she was supposed to say or do. It was one thing to plan on a coolly, confident entrance to fool him, it was another to be caught in the middle of a heart-wrenching tearfest.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “About a lot of things. I’m sorry I didn’t know you were a virgin. I would have done things differently.”
“No,” she said, her voice thick with tears. “You wouldn’t have done anything at all. You would have run far and fast in the opposite direction.”
“Maybe. Or I might have taken things more slowly, making your first time better for you.”
She blinked. Tears cleared from her eyes and he swam back in focus. Better? Was that possible? “I don’t want to talk about that.”
“What about my apology for not holding you?” he asked. “I should have done that after we made love. My only excuse is that I was so surprised to find out the truth that I panicked. Twenty-six-year-old virgins aren’t something a man runs into every day.”
She sniffed. “I guess not.”
He took a step toward her. Light from the hallway spilled into the room, illuminating him in silhouette. She could see the shape of his body, but not his face or his expression. Unfortunately he could see her clearly, in all her puffy, blotchy glory. She flopped onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Life was not fair.
“I also want to apologize for tonight,” he said, moving farther into the room. “I’d made plans with Martha Jean a couple of weeks ago. To be honest, I’d forgotten about them. After you and I made love, I was concerned about…” His voice trailed off. He sat on the edge of the bed and looked at her. “I had several concerns,” he amended. “Going out with her seemed to address a lot of them. However, it was wrong and the coward’s way out.”
She brushed the tears from her cheeks. “Is she…” Cynthia wasn’t sure what she wanted to ask, let alone how to phrase the question. “Is she important to you?”
He paused before speaking. He was close enough that she could see his determined expression. It was as if he had an agenda for their conversation and had every intention to get through it.
“Not in the way you mean. I’ve known Martha Jean for years. Her hobby is marrying wealthy men and then divorcing them. We get involved when she’s between husbands or fiancés. I find her uncomplicated. But tonight, it got complicated with her. Mostly because of you.”
“You don’t like a lot of complication in your life, do you?”
“It’s something I avoid at all costs,” he admitted, then traced the curve of her cheek with one finger. “You are a complication I didn’t expect and therefore forgot to avoid.” He hesitated. “Cynthia, you’re a bright, beautiful young woman. You have definite world views which I do not share. You see the best in people. I would imagine that one of your greatest goals is to marry and have a family.”
Her mind lingered on the word “beautiful” and she wanted to know if that was really how he saw her. Of course she couldn’t ask. “Don’t most people want to get married and have a family?”
“I suppose they do. But I’ve managed to avoid both for many years and I’m not likely to change that now.”
“But you already have. What about Colton?”
He stared at her as if her question had stumped him. “That’s different.”
“Like it or not, you have a family, Jonathan. You’re a father.”
He stiffened slightly and withdrew his hand. “That’s not the point. What I’m trying to say is that you need to find a man who is more like you. Someone who shares your world views. Someone optimistic and young.”
“What does age have to do with anything?”
“More than you realize. I can’t be what you need me to be.”
“That’s interesting because I don’t even know what I need right now,” she admitted. Some of the pain in her chest had eased. Obviously Jonathan hadn’t intended to hurt her. He’d been trying to escape. But from what?
“Did you and Martha Jean, um, well…Were you two, ah, intimate tonight?” she asked.
He held her gaze. “No.”
Relief filled her, chasing away the last of the pain. “Good,” she whispered.
“No,” he said sharply. “Not good. Not good at all. I should have had sex with Martha Jean because we both need to know that there is no connection between you and me.”
“A connection?” A faint tickling began on the inside of her chest. Hope, she thought. Or at least a lessening of despair. “You felt we connected when we made love?”
“Not exactly,” he hedged. “It was different from that. But it wasn’t just sex, either. Which is what it needs to be.”
Definitely hope, she thought dreamily as she pushed herself into a sitting position. “Why? Why can’t we have made love and connected?”
He glared at her. “Have you been listening? I’m absolutely the wrong man for you. Nothing about this is going to work. I’ll only end up hurting you more.” He grabbed her upper arms and pushed her away. “Quit looking at me like that. I’m not anyone you should care about or trust. You work for me. I will not take advantage of that.”
He said all the right things, but she could see the fire in his eyes and feel the heat radiating from him. His lips told her no, but his body screamed that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
“I don’t think you’d be taking advantage of me,” she said. “Not if I was a willing participant. You keep thinking of me as a young, inexperienced girl. While I’ll admit that I haven’t been with a lot of different men, I’m not that young. I’ve been a legal adult for years.”
He stood up. “This is crazy.”
“I know, but that doesn’t change how I feel.” She slid to the edge of the bed and rose to her feet.
He took a step back. “I’ve warned you, Cynthia. I’m not the right man for you. If you think I hurt you tonight, you’re not even close to imagining the pain I could bring you. You want me to be a saint, but if I have any likeness to a supernatural being, put me on the side of the devil.”
“I don’t think the devil would work so hard to save an innocent. And that’s what you’re doing…trying to save me from yourself. But it’s not necessary. I’m stronger than you think. I can take care of myself and protect myself.”
Cheap talk coming from someone who had spent the last hour and a half in tears, she thought briefly, then dismissed the warning. Her mind, her body, even her soul was not her own anymore. She’d lost the power to walk away from this man, if she’d ever had it at all. What she knew was that he wanted her and that he would fight that wanting because he thought it was the right thing to do.
Didn’t he know that his nobility only made her love him m
ore?
“You want me,” she breathed.
He swore. The harsh, guttural words should have frightened or offended her, but they did neither. She smiled.
“I would have expected something more original,” she teased. “Or at least something more eloquent.”
“How’s this?” he asked as he moved toward her.
His arms came around her and his mouth claimed hers. She went willingly, losing herself in his kiss and his embrace.
His body was warm and solid against her own. His familiar scent surrounded her, making her feel safe and arousing her. She thought about all they’d done together last time and desperately wanted to do it all again.
His tongue swept across her bottom lip. She opened for him, but he didn’t enter. Instead he straightened and looked at her. “I can taste your tears,” he said hoarsely. “I’m so sorry. The hell of it is I can’t promise not to make you cry again.”
“I’ll take my chances,” she said lightly.
“You shouldn’t. You should run.” He dropped his hands to his sides. “I’m not going to do anything to convince you to stay.”
“You don’t have to,” she told him, then wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth to his. “I want you,” she whispered.
He shuddered, then hauled her hard against him. This time his tongue plunged into her mouth, touching and tasting and taking. It was a demanding kiss, a man’s kiss. She reveled in his passion, his need, pleased that she was able to bring him to such a frenzied state.
His hands were everywhere. On her back, her arms, then reaching around and cupping her breasts. Now it was her turn to shudder and shiver as he teased her nipples into tight peaks.
Desire filled her, making her ache all over. Every millimeter of her skin grew tight and sensitized. When he backed her toward the bed, she went willingly, still kissing him deeply.
He murmured something against her mouth. She didn’t catch the words, but she knew what he was saying. That he wanted this, wanted her. She would have returned the compliment if she’d been able to, but she couldn’t stop what she was doing long enough to speak.
She clung to his shoulders then moved her hands down his back. His muscles jumped in response. She cupped his rear and felt him flex against her. The hardness of his arousal brushed against her belly. Her body leaped in response. She needed him as much as she needed to breathe. Nothing else mattered.
Still kissing her, he tugged at the hem of her sweatshirt. They were forced to part so that he could pull off the garment. Then he laughed and swore. “We might as well get naked now,” he said, reaching for her jeans.
While he expertly unfastened the zipper, then removed her bra, she found herself barely able to undo a single button on his shirt. It wasn’t just that his hands and arms were in the way as he removed her clothing. It was that she trembled so much she couldn’t force the small white buttons through the openings. Finally he pushed her hands away and quickly began removing his own clothing.
Cynthia, already topless, with her jeans barely clinging to her hips, decided to pretend to be brave. She shoved down her pants and panties, then stepped out of them. When she was naked, she stood and waited for Jonathan to notice. By then he’d taken off his shirt, socks and shoes and was just stepping out of his trousers. Her gaze settled on the hardness trapped by his briefs and she found herself unable to move.
Unaware of her interest, he hooked his thumbs inside the wide band of elastic and pulled off his underwear. When he straightened, she stared at that most male part of him. The part she’d only caught a glimpse of the last time they’d made love.
“You’ve never seen a man before, have you?” he asked gruffly.
She looked up and blushed, then shook her head. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” He stood in front of her but didn’t move. “Go ahead. Get used to it. You can even touch me if you’d like.”
A hint of laughter laced his words. She bit her lower lip, then slowly reached out to touch him.
He was big, she thought, wondering how he’d been able to fit himself inside of her. She remembered a stretching sensation but it hadn’t been unpleasant. Perhaps with time she would grow more comfortable and he would fill her easily.
Gently she brushed the top of him with her fingertips. She hadn’t been sure what to expect, but was pleased to find him both warm and dry to the touch. The skin was surprisingly soft, although the organ itself was tight and hard. Tentatively she closed her hand around him and rubbed. He groaned.
Her gaze flew to his face. “Did I hurt you?” she asked, releasing him instantly.
“You’re killing me, but that isn’t what you were asking,” he said and kissed her. “Hold that thought.”
Before she knew what was happening, he’d left. She stood alone in the semidarkness. Had she really hurt him? Had she said the wrong thing or broken the mood or had he changed his mind or…
Jonathan returned with a condom in his hand. “Protection,” he said and set it on the nightstand. Then he moved next to her and took her in his arms.
While they kissed, he urged her back on the bed. Soon she was stretched out on the mattress with his body pressing against hers. He kissed her mouth, then moved lower, trailing down her chin to her throat. Her skin felt both hot and cold. Shivers rippled through her. As he approached her breasts, she found herself arching in anticipation. She clutched the bedspread, desperate to have him touch her chest—the way he had before. She wanted his mouth, his lips, on her nipples. She wanted to feel that exquisite tugging as he drew the tight peaks into his mouth and nibbled so lightly.
Just thinking about it was enough to make her legs fall open. Heat and dampness swelled inside of her. Soon he would be thrusting himself there and she found she couldn’t wait.
But then he reached her breasts. He touched and teased. With lips, tongue and fingers, he made her toss her head from side to side and call out his name. He drove her to the edge of paradise. Between her thighs, pressure built until she knew it wouldn’t take but a moment of touching to allow her to climax.
Still kissing her breasts, he shifted until he was between her legs. His mouth moved lower, down her belly. He lingered at her belly button, teasing her with quick licks that made her giggle. The giggle became a gasp as he settled his hands on her thighs and began to rub the sensitized flesh there.
He moved up in sweeping movements that brought him perilously close to her feminine place, but he didn’t touch it. Closer and closer, until she thought the heat might consume her. At last he slipped between the protective folds and drew them apart. Then he dipped his head and kissed her there.
Cynthia’s eyes shot open, but she couldn’t see very much in the darkened room. She wasn’t sure what to think about what he was doing. It felt so…so…Incredible.
His tongue stroked that tiny point of pleasure and she thought she might die. Instinctively she drew her knees up and out, opening herself to him. As he kissed and licked and explored, her body began to melt from the inside. She dug her heels into the mattress; her hips arched toward him.
“Don’t stop,” she gasped, knowing that if he did, she would die. It was too intense, too wonderful. She couldn’t possibly climax this way—not if she meant to survive.
But she couldn’t stand for him to stop, either. And when he slipped a single finger inside of her and began to caress that sacred place from underneath, she completely lost control. Passion rushed through her, over her, taking her apart in the most perfect way possible.
When the last of the ripples had faded and she could only tremble, he gathered her in his arms and held her close.
“How is that possible?” she asked.
He didn’t answer. Instead he stroked her hair and rocked her until she quieted.
Eventually she noticed the rather large male object butting into her thigh. She reached down and touched him.
“About your friend here,” she teased.
Jonathan smiled. “He’s being
rather insistent.”
“I don’t mind that. Why don’t we see if we can find a way to make him happy.”
He reached for the protection and drew it on. “I have a couple of suggestions,” he said, moving between her knees and pressing into her.
“I’ll just bet you do,” she gasped as her body stretched to welcome him.
This felt so right, she thought as the passion began to grow again. She wanted this man inside of her, claiming her in the ancient way that men had always claimed women. As he moved, she felt herself tensing. Passion built. Faster and faster. She concentrated on his strength, the weight of him, the way his dark gaze locked with hers.
It began again, she thought, stunned as need filled her and ripped through her.
“Yes,” he growled triumphantly as she clung to him.
She grabbed his hips, urging him deeper. Her body tensed, then released as pleasure washed over her. He thrust harder and faster, each moment of penetration even more satisfying than the one before. Only after she’d climaxed three more times did he give into his own pleasure and grow still within her. Their gasping breaths mingled as they kissed in a moment of exquisite union.
That night, as Jonathan had told himself he should have done the first time, he held her. They lay in a tangle of arms and legs that spoke of their lovers’ celebration. He’d tried to tell her that he wasn’t right for her, but she hadn’t listened. He’d tried to walk away from her, but he hadn’t been able to do that, either. So now while she slept, he stared into the darkness and wondered what he was supposed to do next. How could he get away from a woman when he didn’t want her out of his life? And if he asked her to stay, what on earth was he going to do with her?
Jack Stryker and Max Shelton, David and Lisa’s lawyer, sat across from Jonathan. It was midafternoon on Monday and the two men were there to discuss important business. Unfortunately Jonathan found himself unable to focus on what they were talking about.
Cinderella for a Night Page 16
