FATHER IN TRAINING

by Susan Mallery

  To that end, he kissed her slowly. He touched her shoulders and her arms, rubbing his palms up and down on her smooth skin. She was softer than he'd imagined any woman could be. Her curves yielded to him.

  He kissed her mouth, then her jaw and her ear. Her hands clutched at his back. He liked the way she held on to him as if she feared he would go away. If only she knew the truth. He had no other world save her.

  After licking her earlobe and making her giggle and squirm beneath him, he trailed his mouth down her neck to her chest. Her breathing increased. Her body tightened in anticipation. He moved his hands from her arms to her waist, then slipped them higher, up her rib cage to her breasts.

  She arched into his touch. Her hips came up off the bed and her fingers dug into his back. He raised his head slightly so he could see what he was doing.

  His long tanned fingers contrasted with her pale skin. Her nipples were dark pink and already hard. He cupped her breasts, learning their shape and texture. They moved in his hands, soft and supple. She writhed beneath him, her legs tangling with his, her hips rising to meet him and taunt him with a brief caress. Around and around, he circled, close to the taut peaks, but not touching. Then he released her and reached for the champagne.

  Her eyes opened and she watched him take a sip. Her lips parted. He bent down and took her right nipple in his mouth. She gasped. The liquid had cooled his skin slightly. He suckled her, loving the taste of her. She was sweeter than the champagne, more intoxicating.

  He repeated the procedure, this time filling his mouth with the liquid and then letting the bubbles explode against her nipples. She called his name. Her arms fell to her sides and she clawed at the sheet. He traced a trail of dampness to her belly button, then back to her breasts. He loved her there, over and over, until her breath came in pants and her hips were permanently plastered against him.

  He taunted them both by moving back and forth against her center. Several times he had to stop because he was about to explode. He could feel the pressure building, so he backed off.

  He bathed her thighs in champagne, then licked her clean. He dipped her fingers into the slender glass and suckled them. Her eyes glazed over, her head tossed from side to side. At last, when perspiration coated her body and she had drawn her knees back to expose her most secret place to him, he reached between them and touched her there.

  Just once. Very lightly. The tip of his index finger found her center and rubbed it. Then again. She gasped. Her eyes opened, but she couldn't seem to focus.

  "What are you doing?" she asked weakly.

  "Trying to drive you crazy. How am I doing?"

  She smiled. "Great. Except you lied to me."

  "When?"

  "You said it wasn't going to be different." She blinked and looked at him. "It is. It's wonderful. Why are you being so good to me?"

  Because you mean everything to me. Only he didn't say that. Instead, he touched her again, in her most feminine place, and she forgot the question. He touched her over and over until she was begging him for release. He bent over her and kissed her breasts, even as his fingers moved faster and faster, even as her hips began to rotate in the age-old rhythm of desire.

  He shifted until he was lying next to her, supporting his head with one hand. He stared at her face, at the way her breasts moved, at the faint lines on her belly. Every inch of her was precious to him.

  His forearm was against her thigh and he could feel her muscles tensing as she neared her release. He moved faster.

  Her lips parted. A flush started at her breasts and climbed toward her face. He glanced at the place he touched her. His fingers slipped back and forth, parting the light brown curls. Her knees drew back toward her chest and he could see all of her. His throat tightened as he stared at her beauty, at the tiny place that brought her pleasure, at the dampness that would soon welcome him home. He felt the moment when her muscles locked and heard her stop breathing. He continued his quick, light ministrations.

  Then she exhaled his name. Beneath his forearm her legs trembled and jerked slightly. Her hands opened and closed against the sheets. He glanced at her face and watched her try to catch her breath. The flush had climbed to her hairline, her nipples were erect. Satisfaction poured through him, as if the pleasure had been solely his. He wished they could do it again and again until he learned everything about her. He wanted to make love to her until she was too weak to walk or even stand.

  Instead, he drew her close to him. He held her tightly in his arms as she continued to shake. He released her long enough to brush away the tears that trickled down her temples and kiss the questions from her lips.

  "It's never been like that," she said, staring up at him.

  The gladness filling him made it impossible to speak.

  After a few minutes, she pushed him away. "Take your clothes off," she demanded. "I want to see you."

  He grinned and stood up. He was shaking so hard, he had trouble with the buttons on his fly, but he got them undone and pushed the jeans and his briefs down in one quick movement. Sandy knelt on the bed in front of him, staring at his arousal.

  He wanted her to lie down or move back or something, but she just knelt there staring. It was going to be a problem in about two minutes, he thought. Already the pressure was uncomfortable. Soon it would be uncontrollable.

  "Sandy, I can't wait much longer," he said. "I hate to be a jerk, but you've had me like this since the day you arrived and a cold shower can only do so much."

  She raised her gaze to his. "Really? I turn you on that much?"

  "You tell me."

  "Can I touch you?" she asked, reaching toward him.

  "No!" He stepped back. "That wouldn't be a good idea. Not unless you want me to ah—"

  She raised her eyebrows. "As fast as that? Gee, I'm surprised. I would have thought you'd be more controlled." She scooted back on the bed.

  "I have damn good control," he growled, bending down and pulling a condom out of his jeans' pocket. "You make me sound like some horny kid. It's not like that. It's just this situation has been difficult from the beginning."

  "I understand," she said kindly. "You don't have to explain it to me."

  "Dammit, woman."

  She giggled. "I'm teasing. Come on, let's take care of your little problem."

  "You said it was big," he grumbled as he opened the package and started to slide on the condom. He was still shaking, so it wasn't an elegant procedure, but when it was finally fitted in place, he moved to the bed.

  Sandy was grinning up at him. She moved to the far side and relaxed back against the pillows. Her hair was loose around her face, her body naked to his gaze, her thighs parted in welcome.

  "You're the most incredible woman I've ever known," he said, moving across the bed and kneeling between her legs. "I swear I'll make it up to you."

  Her pupils dilated. "You already did. This is just for you."

  She reached down and touched him. He about exploded right then and there, but managed to salvage a little control, just enough to press into her. Heat surrounded him as she stretched to accommodate him. She wiggled her hips and he almost lost it again.

  "This is going to take about one second," he said, wishing he could do better.

  "I don't mind." She touched his face, then his chest. "I wish I could make you understand how terrific it makes me feel to know that you're losing control with me." She tightened her muscles around him. "The faster, the better, as far as I'm concerned. Impress me later."

  He took her at her word. He pressed in until she'd taken all of him and withdrew slowly. Her muscles clenched harder as if begging him to stay. He plunged in a second time, then a third. On the fourth time, she drew her knees back and grasped his buttocks. She pulled him closer until he was buried inside her, deeper than he'd thought possible. She did something incredible, tightening even more and he crashed into paradise.

  The sudden explosion shocked him. His muscles turned rock-hard, then released. He tried to
pull back and plunge in again, but he couldn't move. He could only feel. She caressed him from the inside, her body rippling around him, her hands holding him against her, her breasts brushing his chest. He thought he might have said her name, he was pretty sure he got loud, which was kind of embarrassing.

  When the pleasure had faded to a memory and his body was limp with relief, he held her close and inhaled her scent. It had been better than he'd hoped for. Better than anything he'd done before. It wasn't just about passion, though. There was a tenderness, a sense of joining between them that scared him to death. Not because she might trap him into staying. Hell, he wanted to stay. What terrified him was the fear that as much as he wanted to be there for her, he didn't know if he had what it took to last through the long haul.

  "I'm convinced," Sandy said as she struggled to catch her breath.

  "You're sure?" he asked.

  "Positive." She stretched her arms over her head and sighed with contentment. "I could do more."

  He thrust his hips forward. Despite their both having just found their release, the sensation of him moving inside of her sent a slight tingling through her body. Would she ever grow weary of being with him?

  A faint light showed through the drapes at the window. The pleasantly tired aching of her body told her it was dawn. For the past four days, they'd done little but make love, eat and sleep.

  Kyle had arranged for time off while the kids were at camp. Every afternoon, Sandy returned to her house to pick up the mail and water the plants. She was having her calls forwarded to his number, so if something happened with the children she would know. But there had only been blessed silence and the quiet isolation most enjoyed by new lovers.

  "We've got to get some more sleep," she said, shifting to give him more room next to her.

  "Why?" he asked as he settled on the pillow and drew her close. She rested her head on his shoulder.

  "They'll be back this afternoon. We need to look rested."

  "The fact that they're coming back is all the more reason not to waste time." He leered at her. "Besides, I have my reputation to think of."

  She slipped her leg between his. His hand rested on her bare hip. She no longer thought about stretch marks or imperfect flesh. Kyle had seen it all, touched it all, tasted it all. He found pleasure in her body and that was enough for her.

  "You've redeemed yourself a hundred times over," she reminded him. "It doesn't matter that you couldn't hold back the first time. Trust me, your control is amazing. I have the weak knees to prove it."

  His control was amazing, as was his ability to discover exactly what pleasured her. In four days, he'd learned more about her body, her likes and dislikes, than Thomas had learned in thirteen years of marriage.

  He brushed her hair out of her face. "You're good for me."

  "I'm glad."

  Contentment stole over her. Here in this bedroom, lying on sheets musky with the scent of their bodies, she felt as if everything would be all right between them. The world couldn't hurt them here. All things were possible.

  But even as she sighed softly and smiled into his chest, worries stole over her. They couldn't stay in this room forever. In a few hours, she would go pick up her children, and life would return to normal. Then what? She didn't want to think about it, but she didn't know how to avoid the questions. What would happen then? Would they date? Continue as lovers? What did Kyle want of her? What did she want of him?

  He exhaled. "I think you're right, kid. I need to sleep for a couple of hours. I'm not as young as I used to be."

  She ran her fingers through the dark hair on his chest. "I don't see a single gray hair."

  "They'll be there soon enough," he murmured. His body relaxed next to hers and his breathing deepened.

  She listened to the rhythmic thudding of his heart. She wanted to hold on to him forever. Sometime in the last four days, she'd started to think of what life would be like with him there all the time and it frightened her. Not just because of who he was, but because of herself. She wasn't the kind of woman who inspired life-changing love in a man. She wasn't sure she was enough to keep Kyle happy. She hadn't been able to hold on to Thomas. No other woman had been able to get Kyle to commit to a long-term relationship. What made her think she could do any better?

  Everything she knew about him told her he was wrong for her. Everything he did for her proved that he was the perfect man. Which was she supposed to believe? Which was right? Could she risk it again? What happened when things got rough? What happened when he had to make the hard choices? How could she trust him to think of herself and her children before he thought of himself? Did she even have the right to expect that?

  She turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She wanted a partner, not a playmate. Was she wishing for the moon?

  Kyle shifted toward her in his sleep, as if he missed her closeness.

  "Sandy?" he mumbled, obviously not fully awake.

  "I'm right here," she said, reaching over and touching his short dark hair. The individual strands felt like silk through her fingers.

  "Love you," he whispered as his eyelashes fluttered against his cheek.

  Her fingers froze. What had he said? That he loved her? She continued to stroke his head, all the while fighting back her tears. What a way for him to tell her. When she couldn't ask him to repeat it, or if he'd even meant it. She didn't know which would be worse. For the words to be true, or for them to be a lie.

  * * *

  Chapter 14

  « ^ »

  Life was good, Kyle thought as he picked up the next report. He studied the name on the folder, then searched through the file cabinet until he found where it went and slid it in place. He continued to whistle tunelessly as he worked on the filing. He could feel the sun shining through the office window and onto his back. It was another beautiful day in Glenwood. The last bright moments of summer before—

  "What the hell is wrong with you?" Travis grumbled as he came into the room. "You're whistling, for God's sake."

  Kyle grinned at his older brother. "You look like hell."

  "I feel like hell. Mandy ate something bad yesterday and I was up all night with her. What are you so cheerful about?"

  Kyle closed the top drawer and pulled open the second one. "Just life, big brother."

  "That's disgusting." Travis squinted at him. "You're doing the filing?"

  "Dottie had a doctor's appointment."

  "You hate the filing."

  Kyle shrugged. "It's not so bad."

  Travis stared at him for a second, then shook his head. "You're not a well man," he muttered as he left the main office.

  Kyle didn't bother pointing out he'd never felt better. His life was perfect. He reached for the next report and chuckled. Okay, it could be a little more perfect if he and Sandy could find some privacy and make love. Since the kids had come home from camp the previous week, they'd all spent time together. He was crazy about her children, but there were times when he wanted school to start so they would go to bed early and leave Sandy and him with enough of the evening left to have some adult fun. Still, he wasn't complaining. Sandy hadn't shut him down and he'd thought she might.

  He walked to the front window and stared out at the park across from the sheriff's department. All the way to the park to pick up the children from camp, he'd been terrified that she was going to tell him it was over. But she hadn't. After collecting the kids, they'd gone out to dinner and heard all about their time away. Everyone had had fun. Even Lindsay made a couple of friends. That night, he'd left Sandy and her children at their house and made the solitary walk back to his own place. For the first time in three nights, he'd slept alone in his bed. He'd used her pillow so he could smell her sweet scent and pretend she was with him.

  He knew now that was what he wanted. He'd thought long and hard about it, and he'd decided to risk it all. He loved Sandy and he wanted to marry her. All he was waiting for was the right moment to tell her how he felt.


  He wasn't sure if he was going to propose right off. She might need a little convincing. After all, on the surface, he was as bad or worse than Thomas. But he'd learned the truth about himself. He didn't just skate by on his good looks. There was more to him on the inside. He was willing to be there for Sandy and her children, no matter what it cost him personally. He returned to the file cabinet and started whistling again.

  The phone rang. Not the main business line which would be picked up at the front of the station, but the private line businesses often used if there was a problem but it wasn't urgent.

  "Glenwood Sheriff's Department," he said. "Deputy Haynes speaking."

  "Kyle, it's Wilson Porter, from the Ragged Elephant. I've got a problem."

  Kyle grimaced. The Ragged Elephant was a trendy boutique at the mall. Teenagers loved the exciting new fashions, but the store had more than its share of trouble. "Let me guess. Shoplifters checking out the new fall line."

  "You got it. I'm holding the kids in my office. They're pretty young and scared, but I'm not going to let them off."

  "I understand. I'll be right there."

  He hung up, then reached for his cap. As he walked down the hallway, he called out to Travis. "Shoplifters at the Ragged Elephant. I'll radio you and let you know how many I'm bringing in."

  Travis followed him into the hallway and nodded, "I really want school to start," he said. "The teenagers are getting restless."

  Kyle pushed open the door and glanced back. "Ten more days."

  "How would you know?"

  Kyle grinned. "I've been counting 'em myself."

  He didn't bother waiting for a reply. Instead, he walked to his patrol car and headed for the mall.