Anything For Love
Page 32
Quentin guided one hand down her warm flesh to the triangle of hair between her thighs, its feel downy soft and the mist of her arousal dampening it. His fingers roved the satiny folds and entreating pinnacle, massaging the hot bud until she quivered and squirmed and moaned. He teethed her nipples, then his mouth returned to hers for several kisses before nibbling at her earlobe. He decided she was as near to flawless in looks and personality as a woman could be. She seemed to cover him like a warm and cozy blanket on a freezing day. She whet his appetite, then appeased it with generosity. He had come to know her so well that he could grasp her signals and messages without her speaking them aloud. His craving for her was huge and fervent, and his manhood pulsed with suspense and eagerness to enter her inviting portal.
Pleasure—blissful and titillating—enthralled them. They stroked and enflamed each other without restraints; they yielded and enslaved each other’s senses. Their wits were spinning wildly; yet, clear. They were visiting an erotic and steamy paradise, reveling in their love.
Deep within her womanhood, sensations mounted and deepened. A wonderful ache chewed at her. Her need for him was large and urgent. He was everything she wanted and needed in a man, in a husband. She adored being his quest, his goal, his wife, his forever. Her head thrashed upon the pillow as she savored each sensation and begged for more with words muffled by her lips against his right shoulder.
Quentin was elated that he could so arouse and satisfy her. He was coaxed onward by her uninhibited responses and enormous need. His senses reeled in wild and free abandonment. She was his heart, his soul, his future. She gave to him willingly, eagerly. Carnal flames engulfed him in a blazing inferno that only fulfillment could douse. No love could be stronger or deeper than theirs. No fiery passion could burn brighter or fiercer. No union could be more perfectly paired than theirs.
Rachel rolled to her side and Quentin glued himself to her back like two spoons stuck together. He guided his swollen erection into her moistness pausing for a minute to summon self-control. Despite the restrictive knee brace, he thrust into her with ease as she undulated against him. They labored thus for a while; then, she shifted to her back and placed her right leg over his hips, her left one resting between his sleek thighs, his tumescent organ buried deep in her core. They seemed to move and to moan in unison as their needs reached a feverish pitch.
One of Rachel’s hands stroked his muscled thigh and the other grasped his uninjured shoulder to cling to him. Her inner recess throbbed, contracted, and climaxed wildly as jolt after jolt of a glorious and potent release seized her and swept over her. She felt almost euphoric, enjoying every instant and movement of the torrid experience, even beyond the fading of the tiny aftershocks when she was limp with contentment.
Quentin delved inside her, plunging into her now slick depths, retreating slightly, almost reluctantly, before thrusting again and again as the intensity of his desire built. Every fiber of his being was aware of her, aware of the enormous thrill of his release when he seemingly exploded with rapturous vitality and supreme satisfaction.
“Whew, that was wonderful. How can it keep getting better and better?” he asked, almost breathless and still quivering from the experience.
Amazed, she said, “I don’t know, but it does. Incredible, isn’t it?”
“Yep. I loved playing football, but I love playing with you far more,” the ex-quarterback murmured in honesty. His mouth covered hers with tenderness and great love, and she responded in like kind.
As they rested and nestled, caressed and kissed, both knew that was only the first time they would unite their bodies this evening as they had united their hearts long ago and united their lives today.
As the jet took off on Monday morning, Rachel held hands with Quentin and cuddled her left shoulder against his right one. Her daughters sat across the aisle, chatting continuously; in Atlanta, they would take separate flights to rejoin their families in Japan and aboard the medical ship. Breakfast with the girls, the Rawlses, and the Millses had been a joyous occasion for all; and Quentin’s family was en route home to Colquitt to prepare for their peanut harvest soon.
Rachel looked out the window and watched the town of Augusta as it vanished in the distance. Her existence there was fading from view and into the past, and a bright future with her new husband was before her in Texas. She wondered what life on a ranch would be like, but knew anything would be wonderful at Quentin’s side. Of course, they would be returning to Augusta next June for the Gaineses’ party for them and for Karen and David. No matter how terrible her inlaws had been in the past, she was grateful they had softened and prayed they would continue to mellow even more.
As her mind raced with plans, she thought it would be fun to write in that location, and probably inspirational to her creative juices. She was eager to see where she would be living and working, and hoped the impending renovations went smoothly for them, in light of horror stories she had heard about such projects. Yet, with Scott Cooper and his crew handling the job, she did not expect any problems.
Becky and Jen would be arriving at the end of the month with Scott and his workers, to stay for several days. Her two best friends were taking care of the movers tomorrow at her former home. On Wednesday, the trucking firm would deliver the things she was taking to Dallas with her, which would allow her and Quentin to settle in on Tuesday and to make room for those items, in particular her computer system.
She looked forward to the party on Friday and to meeting his friends and teammates. She was delighted about attending the Cowboys and Detroit Lions game next Monday in Dallas where Quentin would be honored at half-time. His injuries were healing nicely and shouldn’t, according to the recent tests and doctors’ opinions, give him trouble after therapy was completed in a few months, if he was careful not to reinjure those sites again. She was grateful he was alive and would be fully recovered soon, and the Carters, too, who had sent a wedding gift, as had their families, out of affection and gratitude. During this past week, she had visited the graves of her infant son and Daniel, side by side in the cemetery. She had told them good-bye and had made sure their burial site would receive perpetual care and flowers on certain dates.
She mentally said another prayer of thanks for being given a second chance at powerful love and passionate romance. She had thanked Becky and Jen for insisting she go to their high school reunion that night in July when fate had thrown her and Quentin together again. Twice she had been tempted by the unique man beside her and twice she had succumbed to his charms, and she would never regret either passion-ruled decision. It was as if she were riding off into a glorious sunset with her handsome and sexy Cowboy, heading for a splendid future as his wife and partner.
Rachel fused her gaze to his, smiled, and whispered, “I love you.”
Quentin smiled and murmured, “I love you, too, Mrs. Rawls, and we’re going to be so happy you can’t think or see straight.”
Rachel smiled again, never once doubting those beautiful words. She had risked everything for love and had come out a rapturous winner.
Author’s Note
The Dallas Cowboys name, team members, and sports record were used only to provide my hero with fictional membership on a championship football team. The same is true for the use of—my husband’s alma mater—Richmond Academy class of 1964 high school reunion for my heroine. It was fun to research my husband’s hometown of Augusta, near which we live, and to feature it as my setting. However, feelings and opinions expressed about the setting and Old South traditions are those of the characters, not of the author who is a born and bred true Southerner and proud Georgian.
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A FLEETING ROMANCE…
As a naive college co-ed, Rachel Tims realized too late
that Daniel Gaines had married her to spite his
wealthy family. Although she learned to dress
impeccably, speak softly, and smile like a lady, she’d
never been accepted as a true Georgia “Gaines.” Now,
widowed and alone at 47, Rachel is finally ready to
leave her world of dull charity work and lazy country
club afternoons behind. What she really wants is a
career of her own…and something even more shocking:
Quentin Rawls.
…OR THE LOVE OF A LIFETIME?
Celebrated ex-football star Quentin Rawls has returned to Augusta a hero. A national celebrity with
two failed marriages behind him, Quentin is rich,
rugged…and years younger than Rachel. As he awakens
a passion that sends her heart soaring, Rachel will
have to decide whether to risk everything for a future
together—and the chance…
TO LOVE AGAIN
NEW YORK TIMES bestselling author
Janelle Taylor brings her characters vividly to life at’ moments of emotional intensity and life-changing decisions. In ANYTHING FOR LOVE, she captures a woman’s struggle to find herself—and the right man to love—in a story that goes straight to the heart.
eISBN 978-1-4201-2725-6
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
850 Third Avenue
New York, NY 10022
Copyright © 1995 by Janelle Taylor, Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
Zebra, the Z logo, and To Love Again Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
First Printing: July, 1995
Printed in the United States of America
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