SCANDAL BETWEEN THE SHEETS

by Brenda Jackson

  "You're beautiful." The words poured from deep within Wesley's throat as he looked at her breasts, driven with a need to taste her all over. Her breasts were firm, high and the nipples were dark, inviting, enticing and he bent his head to taste her.

  His tongue teased her for endless moments. Then he moved on to the other nipple, delivering the same wonderful torment. Jasmine clutched the back of his head to hold his mouth to her breasts.

  Wesley's body responded to her like a schoolboy's. She stirred feelings within him that he'd never felt before. Suddenly, kissing her and tasting her breasts weren't enough. He wanted it all. He was consumed with a hot hunger that was burning deep within him and he needed only what she could give. He lifted his head and met her gaze, focusing sharply on her, needing to see her expression, her reaction to his next words.

  "I want to make love to you."

  Jasmine returned his gaze and he didn't move. He barely breathed as he waited for her response. He could tell she was thinking, accepting the fact that making love to him would change everything between them. The question of the hour was, was she ready for that? Was he?

  He had to make her understand and he reached out and touched his fingertips to her lips. "I don't have all the answers, Jasmine. I don't want to consider the 'what-ifs.' All I know is that now, this very moment, I need and want you in a way I've never needed or wanted a woman before," he whispered huskily. "I want to go inside you so deep so that I'll know the heat of you and all your glorious warmth. I want to give us pleasure and fulfill our every desire. Will you let me?"

  Blood rushed through Jasmine's veins and she wanted Wesley to claim her in a way no man ever had. She didn't want to think of the questions left unanswered or the 'what-ifs,' either. What she wanted was this night, this time with him. Tomorrow she would deal with the rest.

  She wanted to concentrate on the man who held her in his arms; the man who was making her grateful that she was a woman.

  And she gave him the only response she could. "I want you to make love to me, too, Wesley," she whispered.

  A slow smile touched his lips and she felt her stomach clench with a need that almost made it impossible for her to breathe. Cradling her body into the warmth of his arms, he eased to his feet. Her arms looped around his neck, she lowered his mouth down to hers, needing to taste him again; the feelings he evoked within her were overpowering.

  He parted her lips and took control of the kiss urgently as he clung to the last bit of his sanity. He slowly lifted his head to ask, "Where's the bedroom?"

  She could barely get the words out to answer. "Ahead on your right."

  With long strides, Wesley didn't waste any time making it to her bedroom. He glanced around, quickly admiring the décor before placing her in the middle of the huge, white oak sleigh bed. Jasmine lay against the pillow and watched him. He wanted her so much that he could barely think straight. He felt all his self-control dissolving and he couldn't do a damn thing about it.

  He sank down on the bed before her and began removing her clothes. After removing the sandals from her feet, he caressed the smooth silkiness of her legs. Moments later he removed her top and bra and when she lifted her hips, he slipped his hands beneath them to pull down her shorts, leaving her clothed in a pair of black lace panties.

  He slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties and slowly eased them down her body. He leaned back on his haunches thinking she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Everything about her took his breath away.

  Her eyes were on him as he stood and began removing his clothes—which turned him on even more. Although she didn't utter a single word, the look in her eyes urged him to hurry. That same heat and excitement surging through her also slammed into him but he wanted to take things slow and savor every sensuous minute.

  Moments later he stood before her gloriously naked, his rich chestnut-colored body was totally male, utterly impressive and fully aroused.

  He joined her on the bed and kissed her deeply, mating his tongue with hers the same way he intended for their bodies to mate. He felt his blood pound through his veins as she kissed him back, and her body trembled with the force of her emotions.

  His fingers slipped between her legs and felt her heat, her moist desire. He began stroking her as he watched her pupils darken with need.

  He needed to know her taste.

  In one smooth move, he lowered his head and pulled her against his mouth as his hungry tongue went straight for her center. She jerked at the intimate contact and her fingers clutched the bedspread and lifted her hips for greater connection.

  Jasmine thought she was going to lose her mind. Nothing should bring a person such astounding pleasure, such mind-curling enjoyment, she thought incoherently. She moaned deep within her throat as she moved her hips frantically, urgently against his mouth while her fingernails dug deep into his shoulders.

  Then suddenly, the tension shattered within her and she cried out, arching her body closer to him, letting herself go and coming apart. She screamed out his name as he tongue-stroked her to sweet oblivion.

  Jasmine heard the sound of foil tearing as she fought for breath. Then Wesley moved over her and she felt the heat of him sink slowly into her. She watched as his forehead creased when he encountered resistance. His head dropped back as he breathed deeply and tried to push forward.

  Her fingernails dug into his shoulders at the pain and when he lowered his head and met her gaze, she knew that he knew. The look on his face told it all. Their gazes locked for what seemed like an eternity. She felt his hesitation, sensed his resistance and was aware of his inner struggle. She had to let him know that no matter what, she wanted this. She needed this.

  Reaching up she wiped the sweat from his forehead and leaned up slightly to claim his mouth and kissed him.

  Her tongue mated with his, restoring his passion and shattering his willpower. She felt his muscles tighten, his body flex. When he pushed harder, breaking through, she cried out and he absorbed her cry with his breath.

  A moment later her pain subsided and she began returning his kiss. He slowly began moving inside of her and she felt it all the way to her bones. He ignited her pleasure with every smooth stroke. Heat raced to every part of her body and she surrendered to what her body—and his—demanded. And when he increased the tempo, advanced their rhythm to another beat, she tightened her feminine muscles around him, savoring the pleasure.

  Her eyes burned with desire when he released her mouth and gazed down at her. "Now, Wesley!"

  Her words urged him forward and he thrust into her one last time as their world exploded and pleasure consumed their minds and their bodies. His cry of satisfaction mingled with hers and his body continued to shiver long after the climax had passed.

  For several long moments, Wesley held her in his arms. She had drifted off to sleep and he was enjoying just watching her. The only sign that she was still alive was her breathing. At rest, Jasmine looked younger. She was beautiful, special and … his.

  And she had been a virgin.

  He had never made love to a virgin before. When he had realized she was innocent he had tried to withdraw from such unfamiliar territory, uncharted waters. Any thought of turning back deserted him when he'd felt her inner muscles contract around him, claiming him, and he had given her what she wanted. What he wanted. He hadn't believed he could find such pleasure in any woman's arms. No woman had ever given him such a beautiful and special gift. Wesley felt a degree of possessiveness that he'd never felt before.

  He swallowed hard when he thought of Caroline. His heart had been broken once and he didn't intend for it to get broken again. But a part of him had to finally admit there was something about Jasmine that was totally different from Caroline Perry.

  He had felt it that night they'd gone to the country fair, as well as the few times he'd watched her doing interviews. Getting a big story was her obsession but not her passion. He had reached that conclusion after reading the article s
he had written about that teacher who'd returned from Iraq. The story had been well written and uplifting. It had generated warmth and human interest.

  Yet there was something driving her to go after the kind of stories that were laced with controversy and scandal, stories that could cripple a person's reputation for life.

  And as he gathered her closer, he was determined to find out what was driving Jasmine Carmody.

  * * *

  There was a man in her bed.

  Jasmine slowly opened her eyes to find her body entwined with Wesley's. Then she remembered the flat tire. Dinner. The thunderstorm. Their lovemaking. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand next to her bed. It was almost one in the morning.

  A surge of sensations suddenly swept through her, filling her with honeyed warmth. When she thought of all the intimacies she and Wesley had shared, she should have felt downright scandalous, but it was very difficult to feel that way when her entire body already wanted more.

  She remembered how her body had strained yet adjusted to Wesley. He'd held her hips in place while stroking her relentlessly, penetrating deeper, longer and harder when her inner muscles had relaxed, until he'd been embedded fully within her.

  Like he was now.

  Heat traveled up her body when she realized he was once again sheathed inside of her, their bodies intimately connected. She moaned deep in her throat and when she felt him getting harder. She met his gaze the moment his eyes opened.

  He didn't say anything. Neither did she. They just continued to look at each other as he filled her body with what she needed and wanted.

  "It's too soon," he broke the silence and whispered. "We need to—"

  He never finished what he was about to say when she thrust her hips against him, wrapped her legs around him, locking their bodies together. "We need to do this again," she said flatly. She wanted him again—now. She clutched his shoulders and her hips began moving in a slow, soul-stirring rhythm that was meant to seduce.

  He crushed his mouth to hers, kissing her in a way that made her toes curl and her womanly core melt. When he began moving his body, she forgot all about her body's soreness and concentrated on the frantic pace of their lovemaking as he rocked her with immense pleasure.

  Her fingernails sank deeper into his shoulders and she pulled her mouth from his. "Please don't stop," she whispered through a hissed breath, thinking she was about to die. If she was going to take her last breath she couldn't imagine going out any other way.

  "I won't," he whispered back, increasing the pace, his body responding to her request. He had wanted to give her tenderness but she had wanted fire. He intended to send her up in smoke. He knew and accepted that he was doing more than making love to her. He was claiming her as his. He didn't want to think about the implications of that.

  Now was not the time. This was not the place.

  Wesley reached down and filled his hands with her breasts, wanting to be connected to her in every way. He again increased the pace, the tempo wild, furious, unrestrained. And when she cried out his name before the explosion ripped through him, he gripped her hips and went deeper as her quivering muscles pulled at him, drained him. He threw his head back as the climax shook him to the core, taking everything from him.

  He laced their fingers together as another explosion went off within him. His final thought before exhaustion claimed him was that he didn't think he could ever let her go.

  * * *

  Seven

  « ^ »

  Wesley blinked at the sunlight that poured brightly through the window.

  The storm was over.

  He glanced around the unfamiliar bedroom seeing the flowers, the large fluffy pillows and stuffed animals. Soft colors of mauve and light gray mingled with bold splashes of black. The room's decor was accentuated with a floral print on the valances over the window and in the matching bedspread.

  He glanced at the empty spot next to him and frowned; he was surprised that Jasmine could even walk this morning after their activities of the night before. One climax had led to another and then another and pretty soon, he'd lost count.

  Each time they had reach the pinnacles of ecstasy together, it had been better than before. Being inside her and hearing her cry out his name had truly been a unique experience in more ways than one. He had never taken part in anything so breathtakingly beautiful and passionate in his entire life.

  He slipped out of the bed when he heard her moving around in the kitchen and smelled the aroma of coffee. He couldn't wait to see her. He hoped that she didn't have any regrets. Pulling on his jeans, he snapped them up as he heard her phone rang. He walked out of the bedroom after the fourth ring and realized she had no intentions of answering it. He was nearly in the kitchen when he heard the answering machine pick up the message.

  "Jasmine, this is Alyssa and I know you're home so don't pretend otherwise. I don't know if you plan to attend the huge benefit ball given by the hospital in two weeks, but I've decided to let you know that Paul Sanders will be my date that night. We ran into each other this past week and renewed our friendship, if you know what I mean." There was a snicker in her voice when she added, "I thought I would prepare you. Goodbye."

  Wesley frowned. He remembered she had said that Paul Sanders had been the man she had once planned to marry. He stepped into the kitchen and his gaze immediately went to her. She was wearing a short robe and was standing at the window with her back to him.

  Her head was lowered, as if her stepsister's words were more than she cared to deal with at the moment. He wondered if he should return to the bedroom and pretend he hadn't heard the recording, then decided not to. If he wanted to find out what was driving Jasmine then he needed to know everything about her.

  Crossing the room he walked up behind her. He reached out and pulled her back against him and wrapped his arms around her, needing to touch her, to be close to her.

  "The bed was empty," he whispered softly against her ear. He slowly turned her around so he could look at her. "I missed you." Brushing his mouth against hers.

  When he lifted his mouth, he eyed her closely and saw heat flood her cheeks and understood why. She had been a sensual delight in his arms last night and now she was not sure how to act the morning after.

  "I needed to take a bath and soak a while," she said softly.

  He reached out and touched her cheek, knowing her body had to be tender. "I didn't mean to make love to you so many times."

  "Yeah, but I asked for it," she responded truthfully. "And I have no regrets."

  Wesley released a deep sigh, grateful to hear that because he had no regrets, either. He glanced around the kitchen. She had set out eggs and bacon to cook. "If you prefer I can take you out to breakfast."

  She chuckled. "No, that's okay. I enjoy cooking. It won't take but a minute to throw something together."

  He nodded. "What are your plans today?"

  She shrugged. "Saturdays are usually my lazy days. Once in a while I'll go into the office if I'm working on a story, but today I'd planned to stay in and relax."

  "How would you like spending the day with me? I have to go to Charleston to make a few deliveries and return later tonight. I'd love the company."

  Jasmine opened her mouth to refuse his invitation but for some reason she couldn't. She wasn't ready for her time with him to end just yet. She met Wesley's gaze. She would go to Charleston with him but needed to make sure that he had a clear understanding about something. "Will this be a date?"

  He lifted a brow. "Why?"

  "Because I don't date. I told you that before."

  He nodded. Yes, she had. He also remembered the reason she had given him as to why she didn't date. "You slept with me last night," he decided to remind her. Most women didn't sleep with men they didn't date unless it was just a one-night stand. And hell would freeze over before he would let that happen.

  Although he dated a lot of women, he didn't sleep with just anyone. He was known to have very discrimin
ating taste when it came to women and with Jasmine having been a virgin, he knew she didn't sleep around either. The fact that he had been the first man she had slept with changed everything.

  "Yes, but it wasn't a date."

  He smiled down at her, his eyes curious. "In your mind, what constitutes a date?"

  She shrugged again. "A couple going out and doing things together, going places together on a constant basis, like dinner, to the movies, concerts—things like that. Last night was our first and our last time sleeping together. Nothing has changed, Wesley. I'm still the reporter you don't like."

  She was wrong; everything had changed. She might be a reporter he didn't like but she was also a woman he desired. And she was wrong about last night being the last time they would sleep together. He definitely had plans to make love to her again.

  "I liked you well enough last night. In fact I liked you a whole hell of a lot. And do you know what I liked most?" he asked her.

  She held his gaze for a long, uncertain moment before asking in a whispered voice. "What?"

  "I especially like the way you call my name when you come apart while I'm making love to you."

  "Wesley, you can't—"

  He didn't give her a chance to finish what she was about to say. He reached down and swung her into his arms and captured her mouth in a kiss. His mind was made up. He wanted her and intended to have her.

  He made his way back toward her bedroom. It would be a while before he made love to her the traditional way since her body was still sore, but he knew another way he could make love to her and it was a way that she had already enjoyed. Before the day was over, she would remember his every touch.

  * * *

  The moment Jasmine walked into Wesley's spacious two-story home she was captivated. Beautiful polished hardwood floors greeted her when she stepped into the foyer. The most gorgeous chandelier she'd ever seen hung overhead. The crystals dripping from the chandelier actually looked like diamonds and she had to blink to make sure they weren't.