by Lynn Turner
She looked up at him, the doubt and fear in her eyes slowly clearing as they met the unbridled passion in his. Beneath her hand his heart hammered out a strong, regular tattoo that exactly matched hers.
“Where are the boys?” he asked softly as he bent to kiss her lips.
“At the Crawfords’. Until midnight,” Lacey answered just as softly against his mouth as her hands crept up to bury themselves in his luxuriant hair.
He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost nine. That gives us three uninterrupted hours. I wonder how many times, in how many ways, I can satisfy you in three hours.”
Lacey’s eyes closed, and her head sagged back against the bricks. If not for the fact that he had her pinned to the wall with his body, she knew she’d have slithered bonelessly down to the cement pool deck.
“Andy,” she whispered, her voice weak and tremulous. “You can’t just go off and leave her here.”
She felt Neil’s lips curve into a smile as his mouth caressed the side of her neck. “She really wants to be with your buddy Paulo. I notice you don’t seem too concerned about leaving him in the lurch,” he pointed out, to Lacey’s embarrassment. “She’s nuts about him, but he thinks he’s too old for her. She figured if he saw her out with a senile old coot like me, he might change his mind. I doubt if either of them would complain if we switched partners for the rest of the night.” He kissed her hard, his hand fondling her breast with a gentle urgency. “Now come on, our time’s running out.”
Paul and Andy were the only two at the table when they returned to the dining room. Neil informed them calmly that he was taking his wife home now, then handed Lacey her bag and wrapped a possessive arm around her waist to guide her to the door. She marveled at his smooth self-assurance when she felt the dozen or so pairs of eyes on them as they left.
When they pulled into her driveway Neil turned to her, his hand coming up to softly stroke the curve of her jaw.
“Worried?” he asked quietly.
Lacey nodded. “I can’t help it. My mind’s just too busy,” she said with a nervous catch in her voice.
He slid across the bench seat to take her in his arms, tilting her head back. “Then I guess I’ll just have to provide a focus for your thoughts, won’t I?”
CHAPTER TEN
He took her key and let them into the house, turning on only the entry light to guide the way upstairs. In her bedroom, too, he switched on a single lamp on her dresser. It was as if he knew she needed darkness, or at least the shadows of half light.
The intense level of sexual expectancy had diminished somewhat in the time it took to drive from the club; but now, in the empty, silent house, it built swiftly again until the air seemed to throb with a pulse of its own. Lacey removed the gold earrings, which were the only jewelry she wore, and her fingers felt stiff and clumsy. Behind her Neil moved almost silently, only the faint rustle of cloth betraying his presence in the room. Finally he came up behind her as she stood facing the dresser mirror. He’d removed his jacket, and the muted glow of the lamp made his silk shirt look almost iridescent as the iight was absorbed in one spot and refracted in another. It gave him a magical quality as he moved, as if he weren’t quite real, not a flesh-and-blood man but some spectral visitor who might vanish if she attempted to touch him.
And then his hands lifted to her shoulders, and the illusion was destroyed.
Slowly, oh, so slowly, his hard, warm palms glided up her shoulders to curve around her neck, his thumbs raising goose flesh at her nape as they stroked with a feather-light touch. In the mirror his eyes met and held hers, and his soft, tender smile caught Lacey’s breath. She could hear the furious pounding of her heart and feel the sudden clenching of the muscles in her throat. Lacey recognized the symptoms for what they were: basic gut-level desire. She wanted him so badly that she literally ached for him. Oh, it had been so long. So long. And she needed him so desperately, with her hands and mouth and every square inch of her. Did he know? Could he feel the storm raging inside her, through her flesh?
“You’re tense.” Neil’s fingers began to gently massage her neck and shoulders. “Is it just nerves, or something else?”
Lacey tried to answer, couldn’t, cleared her throat and tried again. “Something else.” Was that her voice—that rusty, hoarse rasp?
Only when Neil sighed and she felt his hands relax did she realize how tense he had been. Ridiculously, it helped. She felt her body let go; a long, pent-up breath escaped her as her head fell back against his chest, her eyes closing. Neil’s lips touched her skin, burning, tormenting.
“You’re so brown,” he murmured, “Have you been sunbathing in the nude?”
“No. My bathing suit has a strap that comes off, so it won’t leave any white marks.”
Inconsequential talk, meaningless words to keep them both from dwelling too long on what was about to happen. Why? Lacey wondered in bemusement. This was what they both wanted, wasn’t it7 What they both craved. Then she knew. He was deliberately trying to put her at ease, still believing she was nervous, or afraid, or both. And maybe—just maybe— he was a little nervous, too. Once she got over her initial surprise at the thought, she found it not all that hard to accept. The last of her outer tension dissolved, leaving only the coiled passion inside, waiting to be released.
Neil’s hands suddenly moved, dropping to the elas-ticized top of her dress. Without speaking he pushed it down all the way to her waist. Lacey stood quietly as his hands slid over the rounded smoothness of her breasts and then clasped them gently from underneath, pressing upward so that the erect nipples were clearly visible in the mirror.
Without looking, she knew that his eyes were fixed on her reflection, and she was glad that her body was still firm and fit. Let him look, she thought proudly; let him see his fill and know that it’s all his—that no other man has ever viewed or touched or possessed what has always been his alone.
She rolled her head on his chest, her eyes still closed and a dreamy smile on her lips as her cheek brushed his bent head. She breathed his name, softly, making it sound almost like a prayer.
“So perfect,” Neil whispered. His hands suddenly trembled, and she knew that despite his restraint he was every bit as hungry for her as she was for him. Yet still he held back, displaying a patience she wouldn’t have believed him capable of as he let his hands and softly roving lips bring her to an even more intense awareness of him, until every nerve screamed for more—morel
He must have known, because his hands reluctantly left her breasts to push the dress off her body, and with it, the half-slip she wore under it. Lacey was thankful for its elastic, as the waist and bodice slid easily over her hips. A second later the garments whispered to her feet, and she stepped free of them without so much as losing contact with Neil’s hard chest.
His arms came around her to steady her as she removed her shoes, rubbing against him in the process a little more than was absolutely necessary. When she heard his sharply indrawn breath, a thrill shot through her all the way to her toes. And then her own breath caught as his hands moved, shifted, to clasp her lower, the heel of his palm hard against her as his fingers burned through the thin silk of her bikini panties. He knew exactly where to press, where to stroke—no fumbling or groping here, no indeed. But what was he trying to do, drive her completely insane?
“Want me, Lacey.”
His voice was a harsh rasp in her ear as he forced her back against him and thrust his hips gently, his busy fingers increasing the torment as they sent white-hot needles of desire shooting upward and outward.
“Want me so much you can’t think of anything else, not the past or the future, nothing but here and now, and what I can give you.”
She groaned—not a soft, weak, ladylike moan of submission, but a deep, hungry sound like a predatory female animal. And then she was turning, twisting around in his arms and pushing herself against him as her hands reached out, fingers curled like talons to grasp at him, clutching with mindless urgency a
s she found his mouth and ground hers against it.
She felt his startled gasp, the momentary shocked tensing of his body, and then it was as if she’d set a match to tinder. His arms squeezed her mercilessly as he strained toward her, chest and belly, hips and thighs pressing, seeking contact with her softness through the flimsy barrier of his clothes. He was trembling she realized joyfully; not just his hands anymore, but all of him, shaking uncontrollably.
And then suddenly he wrenched his head away, drawing a deep, painful breath as he clenched his jaw and pressed her head down onto his chest.
“Lacey,” he gasped. “I can’t — This isn’t the way I planned it. You—” He swallowed hard, as if something big and dry had stuck in his throat. “It’s happening too fast. Slow down. Slow down, baby, and let me—”
“No/’ she moaned, and pushed against him, hard, making him shudder and groan helplessly. “I don’t want to slow down. Now, Neil. Take me now. I want you inside me…, Oh, hurry, please.”
“Lacey,” he whispered in a shaken voice as another massive tremor shook him. But then he forced her to ease away a little, lifting her face to him as he gazed down at her with those amazing copper eyes.
“You wonder I” he breathed, and his voice held joy and triumph as welt as passion. “You beautiful, impossibly perfect wonder! You really mean it, don’t you? Lacey!”
He kept repeating her name, over and over between hard, fervent kisses while she clutched at his shoulders to keep herself upright. And then he suddenly switched tactics again, his hands stroking and soothing, gentling her until at last she managed to gain some control over her desire. It was still there; she wanted him as much as—if not more than—she ever had in her life, but now she had the panting creature inside her on a leash. She stared up at him, waiting, knowing he wasn’t going to take her until he was good and ready; and the waiting—the expectancy—served to inflame them both even more,
“Undress me,” Neil whispered in a voice he was helpless to keep from catching.
Lacey saw the immensity of his need, the torment he was enduring to restrain it, and a smile tilted the comers of her mouth as she let her hands slide down the front of his shirt until they reached the snug waist of his trousers. Slowty, an inch at a time, she pulled the shirt free, her knuckles pressing against him only to withdraw again, prolonging his agony.
“You’re so gorgeous in these clothes, it’s almost a shame to take them off,” she murmured. ‘Tell me,” as her fingers worked at his buttons with excruciating slowness, “did you wear a silk shirt on purpose tonight with me in mind?”
She was remembering how he’d taught her about silk; how erotic it was against the skin; that when the fingers moved over it, the tactile sense perceived everything it covered with heightened awareness.
“Could be,” Neii answered huskily. “Did you wear that sexy red thing with me in mind?”
Her chuckle was deep and throaty as she shook her head. “I didn’t even know you’d be there.”
“Are you sure about that?” Neil challenged. “You know me better than to think I d sit by and let some other man trespass on my property. I think you had me in the back of your mind when you picked that dress, because you knew tonight would have to end with me taking it off.”
Had she? Lacey didn’t know. What’s more, she didn’t care. “Maybe so,” she whispered as his shirt fell to the floor, and she wrestled with the hook fastening of his pants. “All I know for sure is what’s on my mind right now. Neil, don’t just stand there! This stupid thing won’t—”
His hands moved, and the next thing she knew he had her clasped high in his arms and was crossing the floor to her bed. The spread and sheet were already turned back, ready to receive them as he placed her squarely in the center of the mattress and then joined her. Her panties and his socks went flying in three different directions, and then he was propped above her, grinning down at her like a hungry wolf.
“Now,” he murmured seductively, “just what was it you had on your mind, Mrs. Hartmann7”
She groaned as she reached for his head to pull him down, and his grin abruptly disappeared.
He paused just before he finally—finally—moved over her to mutter hoarsely, “Are you afraid?”
“Yes,” Lacey managed. “I’m afraid I’ll lose my mind if you don’t stop torturing me. Oh, God, Neil! Please-”
His mouth muffled the rest of the plea as one knee nudged at her thighs, and they parted eagerly. Again he hesitated, his chest heaving with his labored breathing.
“Lacey, it’s been eight years.”
“I know. I krioitf! Oh, Neil, don’t you know what you’re doing to me!”
“Darling, listen!” he said urgently. “I’m trying to tell you—” His voice suddenly strained, he caught her head in his hands and stared hard into her eyes. “I’ll probably hurt you. I’ll try not to, but I don’t think-”
“I don’t care! I don’t carel” Her head twisted on the pillow, her hands clutching at him in an impatient frenzy. She was half mad with frustration, her body poised and ready while he continued to deny it. “Just please, please don’t make me wait anymore!”
Neil went absolutely still, the breath held in his throat for what seemed an eternity before it rushed from him on a sighing moan. His eyes flared with a wild surge of elation, and then, before Lacey could tense in preparation, he joined their bodies with one decisive thrust.
Neither moved for timeless seconds, each savoring the wonder and the joy of once more being united, no longer an incomplete half but a single, perfectly formed whole. Neil spoke his thoughts aloud, his voice rough and unsteady.
“It’s like coming home.”
“Yes,” Lacey whispered. “Welcome back, darling. I didn’t know how much I’d missed you.”
“Oh, Lacey I” Though his voice was muffled by her skin, she could still hear the emotion choking it. He lifted his head slightly, his eyes dark and searching. “Are you all right?”
“Better,” she said with a soft smile, “but still not quite alt right. Love me, Neil,” she urged. “Please, love me.”
“I do,” he answered hoarsely as he began to move, “Oh, Lacey, I do! You’ll never know how much.”
It was beautiful, perfect, a flight beyond the moon and stars to another place, where nothing existed but the pleasure each gave and received, until at last they collapsed, spent and breathless and still locked together, loath to move apart, limbs entwined and flesh pressed eagerly to flesh. Tears ran unchecked down Lacey’s face, and Neil kissed them away with tender concern.
“Darling, what is it?” he asked when her storm of weeping showed no sign of abating.
The anxiety in his eyes was more than she could bear, because she knew the reason for it. She cried out a soft protest as she reached for his mouth, pressing salty kisses on his lips while her trembling hands stroked the lean planes of his face.
“No,” she wept in remorse. “No, don’t look at me like that. I—” She drew a ragged breath and then confessed the reason for her tears, “I love you. Oh, Neil, I love you so much!”
The muscles in his arms quivered as he drew her closer, gathering her in as if she was a small child who needed comforting,
“Well, for heaven’s sake, is that anything to cry about?” he teased, but his voice was suspiciously shaky. Then his hold suddenly tightened, and he buried his face in her neck. “I was afraid that I’d never hear you say it again,” he muttered fiercely.
“Oh, Neil, I’m sorry. So sorry,” Lacey sobbed, “To think of what we’ve missed, what you’ve missed— the boys, watching them grow, being with them. I’ve cheated both you and them, not to mention myself. How you must hate me!”
“Hate you?” he repeated with a shaky laugh. “How could I hate you, you impossible woman, when 1 love you more than life itself? If anybody has a right to hate, it’s you, after what I—”
“No.” Lacey stopped him with her mouth. “No,” she said again, her voice strong and sure as she wr
apped her arms more securely around him and burrowed into his chest. Her tears had stopped, and the smile she gave him was sublimely happy.
“You can really forgive me?” Neil asked, his eyes intent as they probed hers.
“If you need my forgiveness, yes,” she answered softly. “As long as you forgive me for all those wasted years.”
Neil shook his head, unsmiling. “They don’t matter. Nothing matters anymore except that we’re together now—all four of us. I couldn’t stand to lose you again, not now, not after tonight.”
His deep voice shook with intensity, and Lacey was moved to tears again by the awesome yearning in his eyes.
“No,” she agreed huskily. “Not after tonight. I couldn’t stand to lose you, either.” Then she smiled slowly as her legs twined around his in a silken caress. “Now. At least an hour of our three must be gone already, Mr. Hartmann, and I seem to recall you made some kind of challenge—or was it a threat—about how many times you could …”
She never finished the sentence as he proceeded to follow through on the promise, for that was what it turned out to be. Later, he left the bed. She murmured a questioning protest, and he leaned over her to whisper that he was going to collect their sons and for her to keep his place for him. When he returned, she was asleep. He woke her with teasing kisses, and Lacey turned into his arms happily. She fell asleep again still locked in their firm embrace.
Later she lay curled against Neil’s side, one slender leg flung over his and her head resting contentedly on his chest.
“You want to get under the covers?” he asked humorously as he ran a lazy hand down her side to the curve of her hip.
“No, I don’t want to move. Not yet.” Her fingers glided over his stomach in a teasing caress, and she turned her head an inch to press her lips to his warm skin. “I love you, Mr. Hartmann,” she murmured.
