by Pat Warren
Relieved that he’d seen what he wanted to see in her eyes, he began undressing her slowly, to draw out the pleasure. She lay back, oddly docile, uncharacteristically submissive, watching his every move. As more and more of her golden skin was revealed, he realized how perfect she was, how elegant her features were, how delicate her bones. His hands seemed rough and clumsy to him as he fumbled with the zipper of her jeans, the buttons on her sweater.
And when the last silky item was tossed aside, he narrowed his gaze, fascinated with the beauty he saw. “You’re so lovely,” he whispered. “So very lovely.” His hands skimmed over the slope of her shoulders, along her graceful arms, then back up to trace around the ripe curves of her breasts. His breath almost backed up into his throat, as his hands trailed lower.
Fallon felt her skin quiver in anticipation, in need. No one had ever touched her like this—with such devotion, such tenderness. She felt drugged, achy. As his fingers danced along her legs, she felt as if he were committing each separate part of her to memory, such care did he take in touching her. Her arms felt heavy, her mind giddy with the wonder of his loving.
As his lips settled on the vulnerable column of her throat, she gasped at the pleasure. His hands were kneading her breasts and the drugging sensations went on and on. Stunned by her own desire, she whispered his name in a voice she didn’t recognize.
But the balance wasn’t right, Fallon thought as her hands tugged at his shirt, finally pulling it off over his head and tossing it aside before wrestling with the snap at his waist. “Too many clothes,” she murmured.
As impatient as she, Michael yanked off the rest of his clothes, an involuntary grunt escaping when pain shot through his ankle at his hurried movements. But the ache was nothing compared to the need that had his mouth returning to claim hers.
Amazed. He was totally amazed at what just kissing her could do to him. Her hands merely rested on his shoulders, yet they felt like fingers of fire on his skin. Dazed with longing, he rolled onto his back and took her with him.
Now she was free to love him more openly, and she did, trailing her lips over his shoulder, up his throat, then down again to bury them in his chest. She took tiny nipping bites as she tasted and tested, then kissed away the small hurt while her hands streaked over his ribs.
She took her mouth on a heated journey, covering every inch of him, wanting him to feel all that he’d made her feel. She heard the deep sounds of his pleasure and felt a thrill she’d never known—the thrill of seducing the seducer. With a low, throaty chuckle, she returned to kiss his waiting mouth.
Michael heard the rain pounding on the roof and knew he would never again lie under the eaves without remembering this moment and the woman who could make him forget his own name. Her scent, fresh from her shower, lightly floral and enormously captivating, wrapped around him, drugging his senses. The taste of her mouth as she deepened the kiss was richer than any wine he had drunk. The feel of her sprawled on top of him was sending him over the edge.
Too quickly.
He reversed their positions and put his hands to hers, palms touching, stretching them up over her head. Her eyes were deep green and dewy with need. He saw them turn cloudy with a kind of dazed pleasure as he touched his chest to hers, brushing against her pointed breasts with feathery strokes. His thumbs at her wrists felt her pulse pound like the thunder rumbling in the afternoon sky. He dipped his head and kissed her eyes closed, wondering what it was about this woman that made him feel so different.
At his mercy. She was totally at his mercy, Fallon thought as she gave herself over completely to Michael’s lovemaking. Willingly, happily, she relinquished control and let him lead. Never before had she trusted her vulnerability so completely. Never before a follower, she suddenly became one, for she sensed he knew things she had only imagined. Then, with lips and teeth and tongue, he slid down and showed her pleasure she had only dreamed of.
He was branding her, searing her with hot, moist, openmouthed kisses that set her soul on fire. His fingertips whispered over breasts grown heavy and full from his touch. As he slid lower, she felt the scrape of his unshaven face brush against the delicate skin of her thighs. He bent to her as her hands thrust into his hair and her soft moan drifted to him.
Then she arched and cried out as the first fierce wave slammed into her. Relentlessly ignoring the sounds she made—whether plea or protest, he wasn’t certain—he sent her up again, higher and higher still. He watched the sensations rip through her as she struggled to catch her breath. Pleased with himself, he traveled back up and captured her mouth.
Fallon felt buffeted, battered, defenseless. She felt boneless, weak, drained—yet she wanted him even more, wanted to be one with him. Her hands on his back felt the tension in him, the control he was hanging on to by a slim thread, the sensual heat that rose from him in waves. She knew he had to be ready to explode, but her heart was pounding so that she couldn’t speak, not yet. So she used her hands to convey her meaning, to adjust their bodies, to finally guide him inside her.
Michael’s muscles trembled with the intensity of his effort to go slowly, to stay in control, to give as good as he got. Her eyes were open and on his, urging him on, yet letting him chart the course. He moved within her and with her as if they’d been lovers for years instead of days. He shifted her so he could go deeper, filling her with all he had to give; deeper and faster and harder, as he watched her eyes lose focus and drift closed.
When at last they flew over the edge, they flew together.
Chapter 10
The rain had stopped sometime while they’d slept—Fatlon wasn’t sure just when. Awakening still snuggled in Michael’s arms after the loving, cozy under the feather comforter they’d pulled up against the chill, she felt warm, languid, pliant. She couldn’t help imagining what it might be like to fall asleep like that, night after night. What would it be like to have all that charm and attention and passion focused on her regularly? Michael had been a tireless lover in bed despite his injured ankle. He was skilled, sensual, thrilling.
But he wasn’t hers, Fallon realized, as she let her gaze linger on his face, aware again of the strength and determination visible there even in sleep. Perhaps he cared in his own way—about her safety, her feelings. But the feeling of rightness, of belonging that she knew within his arms spoke of emotions he might never verbalize, even if he felt them.
Was it experiences from his past or his commitment to his work that had formed his somewhat-skewed opinion of marriage? she wondered. She remembered overhearing Jonathan mention a woman named Paige Hanley, and Michael’s heated reaction to the name. Was she someone who’d influenced his feelings about wedlock? When they’d discussed Tim’s forthcoming marriage just before the van’s brakes had given out, Michael’s opinion of that institution seemed to hint at feelings of entrapment, financially and otherwise.
Who or what had made him think that way?
Slowly stretching so as not to disturb him, she wondered if she could get him to talk more on the subject. Not that she was ready to go shopping for bridal gowns, but she knew her feelings for Michael ran deeper than they had for any other man she’d known, including Jeff Raynor. Even the realization that what she felt for Michael was love as she’d never before known it, she was experienced enough to recognize that that sometimes wasn’t enough to make a good marriage.
Had she ever been exposed to a really good marriage? When her father had been alive, there’d been moments. Jim McKenzie had been a loving man but an irresponsible one, whose concern for his family hadn’t been enough to make him want to work long and hard to keep food on the table and a roof over their heads—one that didn’t leak. Yet, although Fallon had been young, she’d witnessed an almost-tangible love between her parents.
Certainly the union of her mother and Roy wasn’t based on love. She had a few friends who’d married since college—one already divorced, another on a rocky road and a third who never commented on either her spouse or her marriage.
What, then, did she really know about matrimony? Precious little.
Too soon, Fallon decided, to be thinking of such things as “forever” and cottages by the sea and a ring on her finger. Instinctively, she felt that Michael might never be drawn to that sort of commitment, even as time progressed and they were together more. It was a foolish dream anyhow, she thought with a sigh. “Happily ever after” happened only in the occasional movie or book.
Again, she shifted, turning so she was inches from his sleeping face. You’ll get no traps set by me, Michael, she silently promised. There are no strings attached to my feelings because I won’t even allow myself to verbalize them. She touched his unshaven cheek, pleased at the very male feel of him. But oh, let me feel them, please.
He’d sensed for some minutes that she was awake, and wondered what she was thinking. That she would like to be out looking for Niko instead of stuck here with him, probably. That she’d made love with him willingly, but now it was time to get moving. Michael knew he’d given her pleasure and, for that short period of time, had had her full and undivided attention. But he detected a restlessness in her now, an impatience to leave his bed that disappointed him even as he puzzled over why he should feel that way.
He’d never been one to invite a woman to stay hours afterward with him, or overnight, even. Two mutually consenting adults who gave and received pleasure, then moved on—that was his preference. Why, then, was it that, even in the drowsy vulnerability of sleep, he’d found himself reaching out for her, wanting to keep her close, wanting her to stay?
Puzzled at his own reactions, Michael opened his eyes and stared into her serious green gaze. He cleared his throat, unable to read her expression. “What are you thinking?” he asked, almost afraid of the answer.
“I’m thinking about you. Only you.” Her voice sounded husky and foggy from sleep.
That surprised him—that she’d been lying there thinking only of him. He was unprepared as to how to respond. Feeling too warm, he turned back the heavy comforter and his eyes automatically slid to her breasts, rosy from his scratchy beard. He touched a finger to one. “I marked you.
Instantly, Fallon felt heat form just beneath her skin from his touch. Yes, he had marked her, but not in the way he meant. She noticed a tiny love bite on his neck and raised a hand to trace it. “And I marked you, as well.”
“Mmm, that hasn’t happened to me since high school.”
She drew the sheet around her, not nearly as comfortable lying beside him unclothed, now that he was awake. He’d given her an opening and she snatched it. “What were you like in high school?”
“You mean aside from being a lousy student who kept skipping classes?” Michael stretched out on his back, raising one arm and placing his open hand beneath his head. “I was a late bloomer, if you’re talking about boy-girl stuff. I was so busy being angry at authority and the world in general that I hardly noticed girls until I got to California.”
“And then what happened?” Fallon prompted.
He shrugged. “I noticed a couple, I guess.” He turned his head toward her. “You know, your average hormonesraging teenager. Very typical, I’d say.”
He was being open and talkative, so she decided to go for it. “Have you ever been in love?”
Michael’s expression tightened. “Yeah, once. Love’s a near-fatal disease. I succumbed but survived, and learned a valuable lesson. It’s not for me.”
She’d guessed as much, yet was surprised at how the answer she’d been expecting disturbed her. “Who was she?”
Michael forced himself to step back from the remembered anger and turned to her, his smile once more in place. “No one important.” He skimmed his hand along her bare shoulder. “So what do you want to do next, go find something to eat or indulge in a more interesting activity?” He bent to place a kiss on the same shoulder.
She’d come too far to turn back. “Michael, will you tell me about her?”
His frown came swiftly as he lifted his head. “Why? Why do you want to know? You haven’t told me anything about the past men in your life.”
That was fair enough. “All right, then, I will, but there haven’t been many and they weren’t particularly exciting. What do you want to know?”
Actually, she’d opened up a subject he’d been wondering about for some time. “Have you ever been in love? And who was he and why didn’t it work out?”
Fallon drew in a thoughtful breath. It wasn’t that her close call was any great secret, but she still couldn’t speak of that time without rancor. “I fell in love once, too, and it left the a bit battle scarred. I met Jeff Raynor at a party a nurse friend of mine gave. He’s a doctor, an internist, and he was a partner in a very busy practice. I was fresh out of college, starting my first real job, and very impressionable”
Nine years older than she, Jeff had been so handsome, so charming, Fallon remembered. And he’d romanced her feverishly for several months. As inexperienced as she’d been, having dated mostly college boys up to that time, she’d been flattered and overwhelmed.
“He had a lot of charisma and I fell for him like a ton of bricks. After six months of dating exclusively, he asked me to marry him and I said yes. Apparently, just like a cliché, I was so nuts about him that I hadn’t allowed myself to see his faults, to admit he even had any. Or maybe I just overlooked them all. I don’t know.”
“We have a tendency to do that when we’re young and think we’re in love,” Michael commented, realizing he sounded as cynical as he felt.
“It wasn’t until we started planning our wedding that I began to notice things. Like we always went to the restaurants and plays that Jeff chose. We spent time with his friends, never with mine. But when I mentioned how I felt, Jeff told me that naturally, being older, he was more experienced, knew the best places to go, the right people to know. Like a dope, I accepted his explanation. Then one day, he asked me to take a ride with him. He drove me to this house he’d picked out and bought without so much as consulting me, a house he informed me we’d move into after the wedding. As I stood there in absolute shock, he stunned me further, saying that he’d decided it was time I quit my ‘little job’ and prepared myself to be the wife of a successful doctor.”
Michael recalled how she’d accused him of trying to control everything, to make her decisions for her. Now, he could see where she was coming from. “I can just imagine bow you felt about that.”
“I was furious. The house was beautiful, but that wasn’t the point. And to have the job I’d worked so hard to get dismissed as some little hobby was the topper. In a very dramatic gesture, I threw his ring at him and broke the engagement.” She sighed, shaking her head. “But I hadn’t learned my lesson yet. Jeff kept coming around, begging me to reconsider, swearing he’d changed. He put the house he’d chosen on the market and said we’d pick one out together. He only wanted my happiness, he said repeatedly. Like a fool, I believed him.”
“I’m not surprised. Remember, I told you that love makes you do stupid things?”
Fallon looked into his eyes. “Not always, Michael. Love with the right person can be wonderful. It’s not a trap with the right person.”
“I’ve yet to see an example of that in living color,” he said skeptically. “Go on with your story.”
“I took back his ring and we went on with our planning, doing it all together, or so I thought. Then one day, my manager called me in and asked why I wanted to leave my job just when I was doing so well. Again, I was stunned. He told me that Jeff had stopped in and told him that I’d only taken the job to fill in my time before marrying and that I planned on quitting so I could run his house and have his children.”
“He’s not a man to give up easily, is he?”
“Not at all. That evening, I was waiting for him to pick me up and he came rushing in all excited and handed me the tickets he’d just picked up, tickets to Hawaii where we were going to honeymoon. We’d never once discussed Hawaii, but he’d run across a fri
end who’d highly recommended the honeymoon package so, without a single thought of checking with me first, he arranged the whole trip. Between that and his chat with my manager, I really blew.”
“You tossed him out on his ear?”
“More or less. I’d lived with a dominating stepfather for eight years. The last thing I wanted was a control freak for a husband.” She rose on one elbow, needing to make him see. “It’s an insult, I feel, for one adult to take over the relationship and make decisions that will affect both of you. Jeff and Roy feel they know what’s best for everyone and so they need to call the shots.” She let out a huff of air. “Very infuriating.”
He could see that she had plenty of residual anger. Still, he wanted to ask. “Do you think I’m a control freak?”
She took her time answering. “I did, at first. I think some of that comes from the fact that you work with kids who need an adult to make some decisions for them, and you got into the habit. I’ve seen you with other adults, though, and I’ve changed my mind.” She couldn’t help a smile. “But you bear watching in this department.”
“Thanks a lot.” But he was smiling, too. “It’s a tendency I have, I must admit. But nowhere to the extent that your friend, Jeff, had. So, was he the only one you’ve cared about?”
Fallon nodded. “Yes, and that was four years ago. Jeff’s now married to a little mousy woman who, I hear from friends, lets him choose her clothes, plan their menus, everything. I couldn’t live like that.” She wiggled into a more comfortable position. “All right, your turn.”
Again, the shadows returned to his face. “My experience is a lot grittier. You, at least, woke up before real harm was done.”
That didn’t sound good. Fallon waited, allowing him to collect his thoughts.
“You probably don’t really want to hear this. There’s been a lot of water under the dam since all that happened.”
