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Books by Linda Conrad

Page 11

by Conrad, Linda


  Right now her lips were slightly swollen from his kiss and were the rosy color of a smoldering fire. Houston longed to dance once again in the flames. His hands tingled with the need to touch her skin, fill his palms with her firm breasts.

  He couldn't hold back, he simply had to taste the succulent fruit that was all Carley. He swayed toward her and lightly kissed her once more.

  "Charleston," he managed against her lips.

  Houston sank deep into the velvet softness of her mouth. She made a slight noise, feline and low, like a purr, and all rational thought oozed out of his brain. Her body fitted to his as if they'd been made together.

  Struggling to be fair to her, to give her a chance to halt the inevitable conclusion to the way things were headed, he backed off and tried a smile. Carley's look was confused—shocked.

  "But … but I…" she stammered.

  "Did I kiss you wrong? Wasn't it the way you remembered?" His brain was fogged and he felt dizzy.

  "No, it was…" She pulled at his shoulders and dragged him down for another mind-blowing kiss.

  Her lips scorched his, and he filled his mouth with her silken tongue. Meanwhile a certainty of purpose filled the rest of him. Being with Carley was right. They belonged in each other's arms. He hadn't felt so sure of anything since the amnesia.

  "Were we always this hot together?" he murmured against her temple while he took a shaky breath.

  Houston kissed his way down her jawline, lightly skimming over satin skin as he made his way to the base of her neck and the throbbing pulse that awaited him. Carley threw her head back, giving him an open path to travel.

  "Did I always need to pause right here to feel your pulse under my lips?" He sucked gently as Carley moaned. His hands rubbed lightly over her back then moved to her rib cage.

  He continued kissing her neck and shoulders while his hands roamed under her top, dancing lightly over her skin. When he realized she'd worn no bra, he froze.

  Shuddering, he left his hands on the sides of her breasts and pulled back to look at her. Her nipples peaked, pushing against the thin material, and under his inspection a reddish glow worked up from the base of her neck, capturing her throat. There wasn't anything he could do to stop himself from pulling her top up and over her head.

  She raised her arms for him and lowered her eyelids. He leaned back once more and let his gaze wander over the beauty that was Carley, over the generous and perfectly formed breasts with their dusky tips begging for his attention.

  "You're a goddess." Because she stayed perfectly still and simply gazed into his eyes, he filled his hands with her firm flesh. Her rounded curves molded into his palms, and he kneaded her breasts as carefully as he could, considering how desperate he was to ravage her.

  Her eyes turned to deep jade as she bit on her lower lip,

  "Charleston, love. I'm nearly blinded by my need for you. But if you want to stop, tell me now."

  Instead of answering him, she reached to undo his shirt buttons. He helped her tear his shirt off, and she flung it behind her. When she flattened her hands on his bare chest, Carley closed her eyes and growled. Low deep and guttural. The kitten she had been turned to savage cat.

  Houston bent to suckle one of her nipples while gently rolling the other tip in his fingers. He leaned her back against the blanket and nudged one of his knees between her legs. Blowing lightly, he delicately licked the peak of the nipple he'd been teasing and moved to the other. When he kissed the puckered tip and drew it deep into his mouth, Carley began to squirm under him.

  She dug her fingers through his hair and pulled his head closer to her chest, holding him to her. Houston could feel the sweat trickling down his spine as he held back, not wanting to rush her.

  He stroked his hand over her thigh and placed the heel of his palm against the juncture of her legs. Carley's breath hitched and her hands flew to the waistband of his jeans, fumbling against the tough material. In a flurry of hands and moans, they made short work of the rest of their clothes.

  Houston knelt in front of her. Truly a goddess, her hair billowed around her like a cloud. He tried desperately to keep from rushing. But when her golden skin, the color of warm nectar, shimmered in the gentle sunlight, he lost most of his resolve.

  Carley lay back against the ground and raised pleading arms to him, her eyes aflame with arousal. He kept his gaze on hers, but let his hands move to her inner thighs, where the skin was as soft as a kitten's fur. As Houston touched her, he saw the luminosity in her eyes burning brighter. When he skimmed his fingers across the downy covering to her inner core, she closed her eyes and arched her back.

  He was insane. Driven mad by an animal need to possess this woman. To drive himself so deep within her that nothing before or after would ever matter.

  Houston bent to taste her belly button and eased a finger into her wet, welcoming warmth. Carley's hips lifted off the blanket, and when he looked at her face, her lips had parted. She softly moaned on each sharp, panting breath. His own breathing seemed loud in his ears, and the blood coursing through his veins sounded like the roaring whoosh of shallow river rapids.

  Gently he parted her legs, giving himself more room to maneuver, and kissed a path down her belly. With one finger still deep inside her, he used the flat of his tongue to flick across her inflamed nub. Carley jerked, mouthed a keening wail, and Houston felt the ripples of completion thundering through her.

  Houston's own body was trembling and aching beyond belief, but after he'd held her until she'd stilled, he moved to pick up his jeans.

  Carley opened her eyes and lifted a hand to touch him. "What are you doing? Come to me."

  He clamped a hand tightly around her wrist and stopped her from closing her fingers around his rigid shaft. His hands were shaking so badly he was afraid he'd embarrass himself. Finally he dug the foil packet from his pocket and ripped it open.

  "What…?" She lifted her head and watched him unroll the condom to cover himself.

  He managed a tight smile. "Good old Doc Luisa. Thank God she left her health class materials at the ranch."

  "You … you're protecting us?" Her eyes were wild and nearly black with desire.

  "Not from any disease. Doc gave me plenty of blood tests, and I haven't been with a woman since … before I can remember." He moved to kneel beside her. "And it isn't your health I'm concerned about, either. It's just that a man needs to protect the woman he intends to … love. When we make children together, it'll be because we both want them and intend to raise them as a family."

  Carley groaned, low and deep, and Houston suddenly feared he'd said the wrong thing. He certainly didn't want to remind her of Cami's father. Maybe he had.

  He leaned over her and placed a tender kiss on her lips. "Want to change your mind?"

  "You … you'd let me back out now? But you … you haven't—" She raised her head to question him.

  "You're the boss here, my love. This is all for you. All you have to do is say no."

  Carley threw her head back on the blanket. "Yes!" She shut her eyes and reached for him.

  Houston chuckled and, breathing a sigh of relief, moved to cover her with his body. He placed his elbows on either side of her head, and leaned on them, staring down at her beautiful face.

  "Open your eyes, Carley. I need to see that you're doing okay."

  Her eyes popped open as he reached one hand down between their bodies, testing her readiness. He found moisture and heat, and dropped his head to take one of her breasts into his mouth. While he sucked deeply on her inflamed tip, he let his hardened length nudge the entrance to her hot, liquid comfort, but halted before entering.

  Despite the rage inside him, he had to be sure. "Last chance, Carley."

  She gripped his shoulders and dug her nails into his skin, setting fires where she touched. "Please. Oh, please." Her cry was more than a request. It was a demand, and Houston fully intended to meet her need and his own.

  He gripped her buttocks with his hands
and, on a slow agonizing slide, entered her cavern. She gasped and threw her legs around his waist, sending him deeper. Houston heard himself groan with the overwhelming pleasure of it. Carley bit into his shoulder and made small, guttural sounds, like an animal—feral and wild.

  And Houston knew everything was the way it should be. This was where he belonged.

  He let himself go then, as he pulled her violently to him, thrusting madly, setting their fast-paced tempo. Carley matched his speed and arched into him, grinding her hips against his. When he knew she was coming apart again in his arms, he threw his head back and silently thanked God for the power that existed between them.

  As the world spun on its axis, Houston shuddered into her one last time and vowed he'd never leave her again.

  They collapsed together and fought to regulate their breathing. Their skin, slick with sweat, began to cool in the caress of the gentle warm breeze. Carley held him tight, and he lifted his head to kiss her forehead.

  Houston tenderly pushed aside a strand of damp hair matted to her cheek. That's when he first noticed the stream of tears, dripping from the corners of her closed eyes. A small sob bubbled from her throat.

  Good Lord, he thought. His love, his life … must be in pain, and it had to be all his fault.

  Chapter 9

  "O h, God. I've hurt you somehow." Houston rolled to his side, keeping Carley tucked close to him. "Are you in pain? Was it something I said?"

  Carley had never felt so idiotic in her life. What the heck was she supposed to tell the man? That she'd just made love to a complete stranger? That she'd been foolish enough to believe that Houston Smith would behave exactly as he had before he'd lost his memory? Or that, the real pain had come when she discovered she'd fallen in love with a man who only resembled her former lover in a vaguely physical way.

  The stress of this whole thing must have driven her crazy. Surely only a crazed woman would be praying for an injured man to stay injured—to have amnesia forever.

  She tried to sit up, but Houston's muscled forearm pinned her in place. "I'm fine," Carley mumbled, and swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "Let me up."

  "Honey, talk to me … please." He leaned his forehead against hers and tenderly ran his thumb up under her eyelashes, brushing away the stinging, hot tears that refused to stop.

  Carley bit down on her bottom lip, hoping the new pain would hide the tear in her heart. She felt like a liar and a cheat. Cheating on a man whose very memory had kept her alive for a year an a half. And son-of-a-gun, if she hadn't cheated on him with … with … him!

  "All right. If you can't tell me what's wrong, then I'll talk. You listen." He placed a gentle kiss on her temple and kept his hand on her cheek, running his thumb over the wet streaks, then over her swollen lips.

  Carley tasted her own salty tears and felt a chill as her body began to cool down. Her mind raced, trying to find some shading on the truth that Houston might believe. She damned herself for not having lied in the beginning. She could have told him they were married. Then she wouldn't have to worry about Cami, or worry about him having become another person. None of it would matter. She could just keep him in the dark. And just—keep him.

  "When I first came around after my injury, the world seemed terrifying and dangerous. I couldn't trust anyone." Houston whispered low and soft in her ear. "I imagined that either someone would show up to finish the job they'd started or I'd wake up some morning and the whole thing would have been a bad dream."

  He swallowed hard and tightened his grip on her. "As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months, the fear of the unknown began to take a back seat to loneliness. I longed to find some link to my past, to find someone who'd cared about me."

  He took a deep breath and smiled against her cheek. "You can't imagine how lonely you can be when everyone else has a story to tell about their families or their childhood, and you have nothing to say. It makes you a nonperson, a man without love or hate. A man with nothing."

  Carley turned on her side to face him. He spoke so softly, so smoothly, she had to look at him. He'd been through so much. You could see it in the many new scars that angrily marked his body, and in the new look of desperation in his eyes.

  "Then you showed up, and everything felt so familiar. At first I was afraid to trust you, but every time you smiled it was like the echo of an old song running through my brain. Then I was afraid to trust my own emotions. I figured maybe I'd just latched on to you like a life preserver … like I would have done with anything that came from my past. But the connection between us is strong, pulling us together no matter what. I must've loved you very much in my past life, Charleston Mills."

  Her tears had dried. She knew it because they were about to start all over again. The man that Houston used to be had never said he'd loved her. Witt Davidson couldn't have managed to talk about any emotion, let alone discuss their relationship. Carley knew that was the reason he'd never thought to protect them when making love. Witt couldn't admit to himself that they were, indeed, in love.

  "When you're with me, it doesn't matter so much if I ever get my memories back. I want to start our relationship from scratch." Houston's eyes looked deep into her soul. "You're a mighty powerful aphrodisiac, my love. I can't be around you for two minutes without wanting to run my fingers through your hair and wrap myself in your warm comfort."

  Carley had to touch him. His gaze drew her closer, and she touched her lips to his while running her fingers through all that thick, straw-colored hair. As she moved in closer to his body, Carley's senses electrified when she found him hard and eager for her again. She closed her eyes and shuddered with anticipation.

  Houston put a finger under her chin and lifted, forcing her to open her eyes. "But I won't rush you. I know I lost you once before, but I don't want you to think about the past now. I don't want to scare you or hurt you. I want you to be sure of me this time. I won't ever leave you again, I promise."

  Cherished.

  That was the word on the tip of her tongue. The man treated her like a priceless treasure, and here she was feeling like some wanton, shameless hussy for not telling him the whole truth.

  Confused.

  That might be a better word for the state of her brain. Confused by tenderness, kindness and quiet concern.

  Houston moved his hands to her waist and, in a flash, had her turned away from him and sitting in his lap. Carley felt the springy curls of hair on his chest as they tickled her back. She leaned into him, assailed by his hard arousal pressing into her buttocks—setting off fireworks inside her. She tried to turn back to face him, but he held her in place.

  "Talk to me," he murmured on a breathy whisper in her ear. "Tell me more about us."

  She couldn't speak, and wouldn't know what to say if she did.

  He didn't wait for her to reply. "Do my fingers feel the same on your skin?" Houston stroked her breasts with gentle touches—almost reverently.

  Carley sucked in a deep breath, trying to swallow around the lump in her throat. He cupped her breasts, and his wicked hands teased her nipples.

  "Uh…" She found her mouth going dry, washed out along with the thoughts in her brain.

  "Do my lips burn your skin the way they used to? The same way yours do mine?" He bent to place branding kisses on the back of her neck, her shoulders. Carley reached her hands over her head to grab fistfuls of his hair, arching her body and giving him better access.

  As one of Houston's hands continued to flick over her breasts, the other moved to her belly—soothing, caressing. "Your body comes alive when I touch you. Was it always this way?"

  Her body burned like liquid heat, intensifying the ache between her legs. Carley moaned, low and sultry, her own voice foreign to her ears.

  "Do you like having my hands on you now, my love?"

  "Yes," she gasped, and his hand moved to her warm wetness.

  He stoked the inside of her thighs. "Did you like my hands on you before?"
>
  Carley squirmed again, desperate to face him, to sink into his embrace. But Houston held her fast. He drove her farther, higher than she'd ever been. There was no before, no after, only now. Only this man. Only Houston.

  "Did you love me then?" His voice was scratchy, needy in her ear.

  How could she tell him what was in her heart? The only thing she ever wanted between them from now on was the truth. "I can't lie to you. I did think I loved you, but you…"

  Her words lodged in her throat as his hands stilled. Suddenly she was facing him, but not too sure how she got there. He gripped her shoulders, pinning her again.

  Houston's eyes were a flashing thunderstorm of color, his breath came in short pants. "I can't hear this yet. I went back on my word, didn't I? I said I wouldn't rush you, and then I pushed."

  Carley's head was swimming. She fisted her hands against his chest and tried to clear the fog in her brain. "No. No. You don't understand. Give me a chance…"

  "I do understand, but you have to give me a chance … to make it up to you." He grinned at her, like a little, lost boy trying to find his way home. "Let's begin all over again, starting with a date. I want to bring you flowers, take you dancing, maybe even park down by the river and neck."

  "Sounds nice." But there isn't much time left. With every tick of the clock, the time remaining for their last chance sped away.

  Houston got to his feet, dragging her with him. He swung her up in his arms. "Nice? Nice?" His face screwed up in a scowl. "I want wonderful. I want passionate. I want to make new dreams. I don't want 'nice'"

  She couldn't help the giggle that burst from her lips. He was so alive.

  He took a few steps in the direction of the resaca, the gleam in his eyes becoming mischievous.

 

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