by Layne, Lyssa
“Now how fair is that? I’ll have to strip down to my bra and underwear.
Hmm. Sensible cotton? Intricate lace? Thong? He gulped. “Uh—How about I just turn my back?” Brad turned away the second he saw her reaching for the first button on her blouse.
The sound of her sweater on the blanket had the impact of a Mack truck on his libido. He visualized her naked.
He flinched at the sound of her zipper echoing like a sonic boom in his ears. Jesus H. Christ. How much can a man take when his imagination runs amok? His eyes flew open afraid of what he might see next in his mind. He prided himself on being a gentleman even when the devil himself was sitting on his shoulder and screaming at him to go for it. But he didn't turn around until he heard her splashing in the water.
“You ought to join me, the water is wonderful.”
He rolled his eyes. “Believe me, I know. But for both our sakes, I’m going to stay right here.” He pointed a finger at his feet.
Her laughter was like chimes in a gentle breeze. “You’re being silly now. For crying out loud, we’ve slept in the same bed together, run from the same bad guys, and fought a good fight. Why are you hiding from me, at a time like this?”
Droplets of water landed his arm. “What the hell?” He tried to resist, but seeing her waist deep in the water, a sheer, wet lacy bra allowing him a peek at rosebud nipples nearly knocked him to his knees. He groaned at the sight of Christine edging out of the pond, rivulets of moisture trailing down her exquisite body—a mermaid stepping out of the water offering herself to him. He moved before he realized what he was doing and stepped into the water, waded to her, wound his arms around her and pulled her close. He ignored the fact he was fully clothed.
Her arms curled around his neck and tugged, offered her lips and pressing her body to his. He kissed her then drew back, studied every inch of her face before he let her go.
With no warning he pulled away walking out of the water. He shook out the blanket and spread it over a thick tuft of moss beneath the oak tree. He kept his eyes on Christine as he cursed the wet clingy material of a stupid shirt that stuck to him like glue. A seam ripped, but he didn't care. He kicked off his shoes while unbuttoning jeans that defied him worse than the shirt.
Christine had swum out a short distance.
He shucked his briefs and tossed them down on top of his other clothes, then dove into the water, surfacing right behind Chris.
She gasped as he turned her into his arms and grasped her bottom pulling her roughly against him.
He kissed her. Hard. Thoroughly. He pulled back a bit. They fought for air. Brad stared into her eyes.
She smiled at him. A shy, not-sure-of-herself kind, curving her luscious lips.
Brad swept her into his arms.
She tensed and pushed at his chest with her hand, but he wasn't about to let her get away. He picked up her unyielding body and hurried out of the water.
“Brad,” she protested.
“Shh, Sweetheart. It’ll be alright. I promise.”
Gently, he eased her down onto the blanket before he joined her. He kissed the tip of her nose, her chin, her throat. Her soft murmurs of pleasure sent tiny electrical impulses through his body and settled in his groin.
She relaxed in his embrace.
He unfastened her bra and tossed it aside. Brad's heartbeat accelerated as she pressed her hot, sweet lips to his, in a beguiling kiss for his tired soul to cling to. A sense of urgency drove him, pushed him to deepen the kiss, to devour her soft mouth, and delved deeply with his tongue.
She moved sensuously beneath him, enflaming his desire.
He ended the kiss, lost in her loving eyes, at the longing shining in them.
This was going too fast. He had to take it slow, take her slow. She wasn't meant for a lackluster quickie. He'd never put her through something like that.
“What are you thinking?” She traced his bottom lip with her index finger. Her voice a mere whisper as her breath skimmed his shoulder like the soft wings of a butterfly.
He smiled down at her. “I want to take my time and savor being with you.” The smoldering flame he saw in her eyes nearly undid him. But he was determined to make this special, very special because he loved her with all his heart.
She touched his face with a soft hand. “You have unlocked my heart and my soul from a long, lonely sleep.”
He kissed her palm, and her words etched themselves in his very being and watched her intently. Did she mean it? Did he deserve her love, her trust? “Christine, I—”
“No. Let's forget everything that's happened. Just make love to me. Now.” She ran long fingers through his wet hair. “Please.”
Something in her manner soothed him. He grinned, felt mischievous and happy. “Oh lady, that the best offer I’ve even had,” he whispered in to her hair. His touch, firm and persuasive, brought her soft curves closer, molding to his body. A perfect fit. His body tingled from the contact. Did she feel the same?
Parting her lips, she raised herself to meet his kiss.
Oh, yeah. She felt the same.
He kissed the pulsing hollow at the base of her throat, then recaptured her lips, more demanding than he intended, but he couldn't help it. Not when he was where he wanted to be. With her. Forever.
His lips touched her nipple as he fondled the other with his hand. Her body arched up, closer, as if in invitation to do more, happy to comply. He touched his tongue to her swollen, sensitized nipple while his hand skimmed down her belly to her hip and thigh. She squirmed beneath him, whispered encouragement, and dragged her nails across his back.
His left leg covered hers, he caressed her stomach running his hand the length of her torso.
Goose bumps rose on her skin beneath his fingertips, but it wasn't from a chill. No, she was suffering the same symptoms as he was, and suffering just as badly. He reached down, and slid his hand inside the band of her matching lacy French cut bikini underwear. Pushing them over one hip then down over the other, her panties joined her bra on the edge of the blanket.
Christine burned from the inside out at Brad's ministrations. She nuzzled his chest and gasped as his hands slipped between her legs and caressed her where no man had been allowed before. Would he know? Should she tell him?
She welcomed the weight of him as he covered her body with his, reveled in the sensations coursing through every nerve of her body. He pressed against her core sending exquisite spasms through her.
“Honey, are you sure about this? I’m still in control, but not by much. If you want me to stop, say so now?”
She reached up with both hands and drew his mouth to hers, then hugged his body closer. She hoped he'd gotten her answer. At last, he began to slip inside of her, anticipation of the unknown firing up her desire.
“Brad!” she cried out, arching her back, and tensed against him.
He stopped, lowered his forehead to hers, let out a deep breath and a soft curse.
“Ms. Jansen, I do believe there's something you forgot to tell me.” He lifted his head a stared into her eyes, worry etched in his handsome face.
Christine took a moment to regroup, to breath. “I—I'm sorry. I didn't know how to give you all the particulars.”
“I had no intention of hurting you.” Was it anger she heard in his voice?
“I'm fine, Brad. Please. I want you.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m as sure as a woman could be. I didn’t save myself for any other reason than to share this with a very special man of my choosing. I choose you. It’s as simple as that.” She pressed his hand to her cheek then kissed his palm.
He grinned. “I’ll be gentle.”
She laughed low. “Would you stop acting like I’m a piece of fragile crystal? I’m a woman and I want this as much as you want me.”
Brad chuckled, closed his eyes, and shook his head.
“If you don’t continue, I’m going to take over. What’s it going to be?”
“Far be
it from me to argue with a woman who obviously knows her own mind.”
Brad pulled closer, slowly filling her, allowing her body to accommodate his. He wouldn't let his body get ahead of him. He wanted to memorize every inch of her, from the feeling of being cradled, to the soft impressions of her breasts pressing into his chest.
For the first time in his life, he felt something akin to perfection. Together they felt—right.
Afraid to move too soon, he allowed her enough time to adjust to him. When she started moving beneath him at a slow rhythmic pace, he joined her, rapidly bringing them to the peak of their coupling.
The vibration of her body quickening beneath him sent him into the stratosphere. Their lips fused as he found his release.
He felt the pulsing of his shaft deep within her, pressing deeper as he emptied into her.
Brad rubbed his cheek against hers, their twin rasping breaths echoing in each other’s ears. He nipped Chris' shoulder, licked soothingly, taking in the taste of her.
She was heaven and earth, fire and ice, perfection. He'd never be able to come here again without her memory rushing into his mind.
He'd waited a lifetime for achieve this. Tranquility. Perfection. Home.
His heart belonged to Chris, he relished this moment.
Brad rolled off Chris and stood in one easy movement. He bent and picked her up, carried her back into the water and dropped into it with her still in his arms. He laughed as she squealed when the cold liquid touched her heated flesh.
“That's what you get when you keep secrets.”
She wrinkled her pert nose at him and swam away.
He needed to take control of his body, except that she was swimming her way back to him, to possible added lovemaking? He chuckled softly. Well they say it's a tough job and someone's gotta do it. Right? Might as well be him.
She glided into his arms.
He caressed her body, rubbing his hands over her, rinsing the last traces of their shared love.
He picked her up and carried her back to the blanket. She nipped at his shoulder, at his earlobe, touched those luscious lips to his. He eased them down where they cuddled in the shade from the hot autumn sun. He'd never thought much about cuddling before. Not even with a stuffed animal when he was a kid. But there was something to be said about snuggling with the beautiful, sumptuous body of the woman he loved.
Christine drifted off before Brad closed his eyes, thankful for an invitation to share one last precious memory together.
Brad fidgeted and woke disoriented.
Christine was still asleep on her side, her back spooned to chest.
He'd been dreaming. A senseless, horrible nightmare. Chris walked toward him, down the aisle of a church. He closed his eyes, swore he could still smell the flowers, see the flickering candles and his beautiful bride in flowing white coming to him, a smile on her face. As they exchanged vows, gazing into one another’s face, the minister whipped out a gun and pulled the trigger, aimed directly at Chris's chest, turning her pristine gown to crimson.
He re-checked to make sure she was breathing—slow and even. She was still alive. More than ever, he recognized that his job wasn’t meant to mix with marriage. Marty and Rosie were proof. He’d see this job though and quit. There were no other options because no way was he going to walk away from the best thing that ever happened to him.
He slipped an arm across her waist.
She murmured in her sleep and snuggled closer to him.
He'd do whatever it took to keep her safe and happy.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Christine listened to Brad's soft breathing as she dropped angel kisses onto his chest. What a wonderful chest he had, too. The rat-ta-tat-tat of his heart beat sped up slightly after the first kiss.
She reached out and ran her fingers through the light smattering of chest hair and traced the line down to his belly button. His nakedness was simply delicious. He was magnificent, and not an ounce of fat, nothing but rippling muscles on a perfectly sculptured torso. A definite sight to behold.
She supposed she should be ashamed of her blatant ogling, but she wasn't. Embarrassed? Nope, not that either. She was happy, so pleased she'd saved herself for someone extraordinary like Brad.
She rolled onto her side and pillowed her arm under her head and laughed low at her naughty behavior. After today, she'd never be able to see Brad without picturing him just the way he looked right now. Buck naked and sexy as hell.
When did she become so brave, brazen actually, that she'd goaded him into making love to her. A tiny thrill shivered through her. Who knew Ms. Christine Jansen could be so...wanton and wicked. Where had it come from? She'd always been a little too straight-laced and a tad shy. Standoffish was in there somewhere, especially after Ray's betrayal. Brad had coaxed her out into the light, into believing she could love again. Trust again. She touched his hair, softly brushed it away from his face. A once, maybe twice broken nose lent a sort of tough Mike Hammer character to his still handsome face. She touched a fingertip to a tiny scar just under his chin. Where had he gotten it? There was so much she didn't know about him, so much she wanted to learn.
The sun lazily moved across the sky, shimmered through the branches of the fragrant pines and worked its way behind the majestic redwoods.
She’d give anything to be brave enough to reach out and stroke him. Images of their consummation danced in her mind, fresh and exciting. Where would it lead? She knew where it would lead. The first time was spontaneous but to tempt him to do it again so soon, felt like manipulation. She curled her fingers into her palm and drew her hand away from that oh, so hot and tantalizing place. She'd never seen a naked man before. Were they all this—impressively large? She wanted touch him and awaken all that raw, animalistic masculinity.
He was the one with all the fears, the doubts. Next time she wanted him to approach her, wanted him to make the first move and not because she was naked and he was woman hungry. She needed him to show her she was worth the gold ring by taking the biggest leap of faith in life.
Brad barely opened his eyes and watched Christine. Maybe it wasn't a good thing to pretend sleep, but it was fun watching her visual trip down the length of his body. A real turn-on. He once had a woman tell him the male body, especially “his sex” was ugly. “His sex” Her prim and proper words, not his. Christine wasn't like that. Temptation to pounce on her, roll her under him, and make love to her again tickled his groin. The moment she noticed the effect she had on him, he'd be busted for sure.
A wide array of facial expressions crossed her lovely face. He stifled a chuckle as her eyes widened in wonder, then boldly stared at his growing erection. She'd curled her hand into a fist. Had she wanted to touch him? Was she afraid?
Chris had a slight shy side, but she didn't act prudish. She'd made no attempt to cover her body or his. He liked her adventurous nature. Thrived at the heat of her nestled close to him. He swallowed a groan as she snuggled closer, her firm breasts pressed against his side, dusky raspberry-like nipples brushing against him.
He wouldn't need much more prompting to lose what little control he'd managed. He wanted to kiss her, taste her, and make love to her again and again. Time to stop thinking and act. She'd given him her innocence. What now?
Time to do the right thing, to make an honest woman of her.
He flinched and shivered as Chris's lips landed a soft kiss on his nipple, then sucked on it. Damn if he wasn't getting harder.
He traced his hand up and down her back to let her know he was through napping in her tempting presence and shut his eyes tightly as she pressed closer to him. He opened one eye to find a flirty smile on her luscious lips. A seductive image tip-toed through his mind of her climbing on top of him, of experiencing how adventurous she might really be.
Brad grabbed a laughing Christine and pulled her over the top of him to his other side, and like the thief that he was, marauded her mouth. He pushed his erection between her legs, but didn't penetrat
e.
She clamped her legs possessively around it.
He growled in response, he ended the kiss, nipped at the tip of her nose, and caught the intense longing in her beautiful eyes. No man in his right mind could turn down an invitation like that. He lowered his head and pressed a soft kiss to her swollen mouth, trailed tender butterfly kisses down her throat to her breasts and licked one taut nipple.
She gasped, arched her back pushed closer.
He took more of her into his mouth and suckled harder.
“Oh yes! I like that,” she whispered and squirmed then dug her nails into his back, bit his shoulder.
His was on fire and nearly burned it to a crisp. He nibbled his way back to her lips and devoured her mouth, his tongue delving deeply while he slid his body half on her.
She wrapped a leg around his hip and lifted upward, pressing against his erection. She was making him crazy with desire.
Even with his mind in a heated fog, Brad heard a door slam somewhere in a dreamlike distance. Alarm bells went off in his head. Go away! Can't stop now. Not yet. Christine was too hot, too sweet, too wet and ready for him. He wanted to...
“Brad! Christine! Where are you?”
“Shit. Joe—” Brad sat up and scanned the woods. Where in the hell was he? Why in the hell was he back so soon? Damn it!
He stared at Christine.
She stared back.
A second yell from Joe had them scrambling to their feet, bumping into each other in their quest to get dressed as fast as possible.
“Brad, hurry, get my clothes.” She snagged her jeans, dropped them as Brad threw a pair of lacy panties her way, then helped her into them. Where the heck was Slim? Sweet Jesus, where did everything go? She spied her shirt, plucked it off the ground and tossed it on while searching for her prosthetic. She punched her way into her shirt as he got into his boxers, then slipped into his own shirt, and picked up the leg.
He laughed low and she giggled as they raced to get her prosthesis on and her jeans over it.
“Stop,” she admonished. “We're behaving like school kids caught by our parents.” She shoved at his chest. An unladylike snort escaped her rosy lips. She giggled again.
