by Cindi Myers
“And if he doesn’t accept it?”
She took a deep breath. “Then we find other jobs. We’re the number two rated show in the afternoon drive slot in Denver, on our way to number one. That ought to be worth something.”
He tightened his hands on her waist. “It’s a big risk.”
“A big risk is worth it for a big payoff.”
He looked into her eyes. There was no accusation there, no suspicion. Only a wanting that reflected his own feelings. He didn’t want to fight her anymore—to fight himself. Better to give in to his feelings and deal with the consequences than continue this painful struggle. “Let’s go into the bedroom,” he said.
She smiled up at him. “I thought you’d never ask.”
12
ERICA FOLLOWED Adam into his bedroom. Like the rest of his house, this room was masculine and comfortable—dark wood furniture, a navy-blue comforter on the queen-size bed, a leather armchair piled with magazines and old clothes in one corner. He picked up a pair of jeans from the floor and flung them into the chair. “If I’d know you were coming, I’d have cleaned up.”
“It’s okay. I’d have been disappointed if it was neater than my own place.”
He came up behind her and put his arms around her and began kissing her neck. She leaned against him and closed her eyes. If people could purr, she’d being doing so right now.
“Turn around and look at me.” He turned her toward him.
She pressed her palm to his cheek. His skin was smooth, clean-shaven. When he closed his eyes his lashes tickled her fingertips. “This is different, isn’t it?” she said. “With the lights on, being able to see each other.”
“You don’t know how much I’ve wanted to see you. All of you.” His gaze swept over her. “Those times when I missed my cues when we were on air? It was usually because I was sitting there, imagining you naked.”
The thought of him fantasizing about her made her stomach flutter. She stepped back and held out her arms, smiling. “Then be my guest.”
He studied her a moment, as if deciding where to start first. She began to feel a little silly, standing there with her arms outstretched. Then he reached for the top button of her blouse. “I was debating how upset you’d be if I didn’t waste time unbuttoning these, but just ripped the shirt off.”
“Don’t.” She put her hand over his and looked into his eyes. “Let’s take our time. Really get to know each other.” More than anything, she wanted him to trust her, to realize he didn’t have to hide anything from her.
He reached for the next button and undid it, then moved to the next.
“You’re still going too fast,” she said.
“I am?” He looked puzzled.
She smiled. “You want to take the time to really appreciate the moment. Like this.” She carefully unfastened the top button of his shirt, then leaned forward and kissed the triangle of chest that had been revealed. She swirled her tongue over his skin and breathed in his clean scent. Then she moved on to the next button, pausing to kiss each newly exposed inch of bare skin, down his chest, to his stomach, moving slowly, exploring him thoroughly. She circled her tongue around his navel and he drew a sharp breath, and his hands tightened on her shoulders.
Encouraged, she moved lower, tracing her tongue along the line of fine hair leading to the waistband of his jeans. She followed with her fingers, stroking his abdomen, teasing along the top of his jeans. “I want to make sure every inch of you is aware of me,” she said. “Wanting me.”
“Uh-huh. You’re doing a great job.”
Just as every inch of her was attuned to him, aware of the rhythm of his breathing, and the way the fine hairs lay on the back of his hand, of the scar on his knuckle and the hint of a dimple on the right side of his mouth. She was coming to know him so well, and yet there was so much more she wanted to know.
“Let’s get in bed,” she said. She took his hand and tugged back the comforter with the other. Then she lay back against the pillows.
He stopped to strip off his jeans and the unbuttoned shirt, leaving him naked. “Not that I’m impatient, or anything,” he said as he tossed the clothes aside. “I thought I’d get more comfortable.”
He was very erect. Watching him move toward her she felt a renewed tension between her legs. An aching to have him in her. But not yet. There was more she wanted to know about him, and the intimacy of sex seemed to be the only time he let down his guard enough to say them. For instance, he hadn’t wanted to talk about his time in prison. “Did you think about sex a lot when you were in prison?” she asked.
He knelt on the bed and frowned at her. “Why do you ask?”
“I want to know about you. What it was like for you.” She smoothed her hand down his arm, the muscles hard beneath her palm.
He lay down and pulled her toward him, his head resting alongside hers. She could no longer see his face, but she could feel the heat of his naked body, pressed against her. “Yeah, I thought about it,” he said, his voice low in her ear. “I mean, there weren’t any women around, and when you can’t have something, you automatically think about it more.” He kissed her again, his lips crushing hers, his tongue thrusting deep into her mouth, as if he wanted to devour her, or silence her questions.
She arched against him, reveling in the feel of him, but when his mouth moved to her neck, she drew back slightly, determined to continue the conversation. “Did you have a girlfriend when you went in?”
He shook his head. “No one in particular. No one waiting for me, if that’s what you mean.”
She trailed her hand along his hip, her touch light. Teasing. “So what did you think about doing?”
“What do you mean?”
She raised her head and looked into his eyes. “Tell me your fantasies. The things no one else knows.”
He swallowed hard, was silent for a moment. “I can’t think. All the blood’s rushed south.”
She squeezed his buttocks, and watched his cock jerk in response. “What did you do to relieve the tension. Did you masturbate?”
He choked back a laugh. “Yeah. Guys do that all the time anyway.”
“So do women. At least some of them. I do.” She looked up at him again. “Lately, I’ve been thinking about you when I do it.”
His eyes darkened and his breathing grew uneven.
“That makes you hot, doesn’t it?” She dropped her hand to cover her crotch. “Thinking about me getting myself off?”
“Yeah, it does.”
She wet her lips, and hesitated over the next question. But she wanted them to be honest with each other. For him to know there was nothing he couldn’t tell her. “There are a lot of stories about prison life. About men, locked up all that time together, things they do…”
The muscles beneath her hand tensed into hard ridges. He took a deep breath and she felt him relax slightly. “If you’re asking did I ever have sex with another man, no. Some guys did, but I didn’t. And if you’re worried about disease or anything, I’m clean.”
“I wasn’t worried. Just curious.” She kissed his neck, resting her lips against the hollow at the base of his throat. “You can tell me anything and I promise I won’t judge. I just want to know.”
“Now it’s my turn to ask you a question.”
Her eyes widened. “Uh, sure. What is it?”
He fingered one thin blond braid. “What’s with your hair? Every time I see you lately, you’re wearing it a different way.”
She shrugged. “I guess I get bored with it. I like to change it up. You don’t like it?”
“I like it fine. I just wondered.” He began undoing her shirt again. “I’m supposed to be undressing you, aren’t I?” He followed her lead this time and lingered over the job. He pulled down the top of the swimsuit and trailed his tongue over the valley between her breasts and she closed her eyes against the sheer pleasure of the contact.
She opened her eyes again, determined not to get carried away too soon. She laced her fing
ers through his hair, surprised at how soft it was when it looked so coarse. “Did you have to wear your hair cut short in prison?”
He sighed. Was he annoyed at her questions? Or resigned to answering them? “Not really. We had to wear these orange pajama pants and pullover tops. And rubber sandals.” He pulled back and propped himself on one elbow, his gaze searching. “Why are you so interested? Is this some kind of a turn-on for you, knowing I was locked up?”
She smiled. “Think of it as a kind of foreplay.” She sat up and squeezed his arm. “I want to know what it was like. I want you to know it’s okay to talk about anything with me. To let out the feelings you’ve kept locked up inside.”
He looked away. “Feelings are dangerous. Emotions take over, you stop thinking and do stupid stuff.”
The anger in his voice startled her. When had he ever done anything stupid? “Like with Bonnie?”
“Not Bonnie.” He looked at her again, his gaze probing, as if he wanted to make sure she understood what he was saying. “There wasn’t any real feeling there. I think that’s why I slept with her in the first place. She was safe. She didn’t care enough about me to dig deep.”
And I do. Did he understand how much she cared? “Then what are you talking about? When have you done something stupid because you let emotion take over?”
He sat up, and rested his elbows on his knees. He was naked and she was still half-dressed, their passion subdued in exchange for a different kind of intimacy. “In California, I had a best friend. Another jock at the station where I worked. We were roommates for a while, we hung around together, even dated some of the same women. He…he was kind of like a brother to me.”
She touched his arm, wanting to reassure him. “Was he into drugs, too?”
“Oh, yeah. He’s the one who turned me on to them. Introduced me to his dealer. I thought it was because we were such good friends.”
“What happened?”
“They picked him up for something, he had a kilo of coke with him. He’d been popped before, so he was looking at hard time. His lawyer cut a deal. If he’d reveal his sources, they’d go easy on him.”
“So he turned in the dealer?”
He shook his head. “No. He knew if he did that, he’d end up dead. So he told them I was his source.”
The hurt in his eyes as he remembered this betrayal pained her. “Did you ever get a chance to ask him why?”
“He said he was doing me a favor. He was teaching me a valuable lesson in life—trust no one.”
“He was wrong.” She knelt in front of him, her voice insistent. “You have to trust someone some time. Otherwise, you’re always…alone.”
“Yeah, well, it hasn’t been that bad. Until you came along. You made me start thinking differently. That night in the Furniture Gallery. When we talked…” He shook his head. “I couldn’t believe the stuff I said to you. Stupid stuff, like about my father…”
“It wasn’t stupid. It was real. It made me feel…connected to you. You felt it, too, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. Scared the shit out of me.”
“Are you scared now?”
His eyes met hers, doubt in his expression. “Honest? I am…a little.”
She nodded. “I am, too. I think that means these feelings are real. Don’t run away from them.”
He lay back, and pulled her down alongside him. “I’m not running anywhere. I’m staying right here with you.”
Together, they got rid of her shirt, then her skirt and the swimsuit. He raised up on one elbow and looked at her, his hand tracing the curve of her hip. “You’re beautiful.”
It was something men said at a time such as this, but something a woman never got tired of hearing. “The way you look at me—you make me feel beautiful.”
He scooted down and kissed her left breast, making circles with his tongue, drawing closer and closer to, but never touching, her erect nipple. She arched against him, craving his mouth on that sensitive peak. She felt him smile against her breast, then he scraped his teeth across her, making her gasp.
His tongue followed, soothing the ache, then his teeth made her more sensitive still. She moaned and clutched at his shoulders. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his lips still pressed against her.
“No. No, don’t stop.”
He moved to her other breast, alternately caressing and abrading until her vision fogged and she gasped for breath, certain a single touch to her clit would send her over the edge.
He rested his forehead between her breasts, his eyes closed, mouth twisted in almost a grimace. “What’s wrong?” she asked, alarmed.
He smiled. “Nothing. Just…catching my breath.” He squeezed her thigh. “Don’t want everything to be over before we’ve started.”
It moved her that she wasn’t the only one having trouble maintaining control. She nudged him onto his back, then sat up and straddled him. She could feel his erection, hot and hard between her thighs, nudging at her entrance. “So tell me what you want.”
“You know what I want.”
“Tell me.” She squeezed her thighs together, encouraging him.
“I want my cock inside you.” He raised up on his elbows. “I want to suck your nipples and squeeze your ass while you ride me until I come. And I want to make you come, hard. I want to hear you moan and cry my name and beg me not to stop.”
She swallowed hard, shaken by the image his words painted. “I think we can manage that.” She grabbed a condom from the nightstand and quickly sheathed him.
She was wet, her thighs trembling on the edge of control as she held herself over him, making herself wait, prolonging the moment. Then she guided him inside her, her muscles contracting around him. She pushed down, driving him deep, gasping at the sensation of him filling her.
He smoothed his hands over her buttocks, grasping and kneading. She tightened around him even more, the hard bud of her clit throbbing with every stroke of his cock.
She put her hands on either side of his head and leaned forward. He raised his head from the pillow and took one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard, sending a renewed wave of wet heat to wrap around him as she rocked back and forth.
“Do you like that?” he asked, before transferring his mouth to her other nipple.
“Uh-huh.” The sensation left her wordless, reduced to grunts and moans, all focus on his hands and mouth on her, and his hard cock inside her.
His mouth was busy adoring her breasts, while his hands caressed her bottom. She braced herself more firmly and brought her own hand to stroke her clit with her thumb, her fingers spread to brush against his erection with each stroke.
He took his mouth from her breast and watched. “It drives me crazy, watching you touch yourself that way.”
“I like watching you watch me. That glazed look you get in your eyes, like any minute you’ll lose control.”
“That’s the idea, isn’t it? To make me lose control?”
“Yeah. And I’ll be right there with you.” She drove down harder, thrusting him deeper inside her, then withdrew almost all the way.
He grabbed her buttocks and pulled her toward him, arching to meet her, guiding her into a faster rhythm. She moved with him, no longer in control, every nerve focused on her approaching climax. She grit her teeth, reaching for it, white light exploding behind her tightly shut eyes as release came in rolling waves. She was dimly aware of him pulsing within her, his hands gripping her tightly as his groans filled her ears.
He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly to his chest. They lay without speaking, their breath gradually growing more even, their hearts slowing to a steady beat. She thought he might have fallen asleep, when he spoke. “That was worth waiting for.”
“Yeah.” She eased away from him and over to his side, her arm across his chest, her head nestled in the hollow of his shoulder. “But I’m glad we decided not to wait any longer.”
He caressed her shoulder. “What are we going to do about Carl?”
“But what?”
She raised her head to look at him. “But even if he doesn’t fire us, he’ll make a big fuss and everyone at the station will know. It would be nice if we could enjoy ourselves without all that hassle. At least for a while.”
“Yeah. Let’s just play it cool and see what happens.”
“Maybe if we can prove that our having a relationship won’t interfere with our jobs, he’d agree to relax the rule.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
She laid her head back on his shoulder. “Then we’ll deal with it when the time comes. Together.”
ADAM LAY AWAKE a long time after Erica’s breathing had changed to the soft, even rhythm of sleep. If he closed his eyes and gave in to the lethargy that pulled at him, would he wake to find this whole evening had been a dream?
He couldn’t remember feeling this close to anyone—ever. The idea was both thrilling and terrifying. She wanted so much from him—honesty and revelations about his past. Things he wasn’t used to giving.
He’d spent so many years avoiding getting too close to anyone. Letting down his guard felt dangerous.
But having her here right now felt too good to give up. Answering her questions and seeing the acceptance in her eyes made him feel…clean. Renewed, somehow.
Is that why sex with her was different? More intense? More physical and more emotional, too?
Could that feeling possibly last? When Carl found out about them, as he would eventually—there were no real secrets in a workplace as small as a radio station—would he fire them? Would they become rivals for the limited number of radio spots available in a city the size of Denver?
She sighed softly and snuggled closer to him. He tightened his fingers around her shoulder, as if holding on to her would help him hold on to the faith she had in their future.
13
