by Sandra Brown
closed around her breast.
He felt her heartbeat against his palm. It telegraphed a vital message to his brain.
His head snapped up. Bracing himself above her, he looked down into her face.
Her labored breathing matched his, and what he saw in her face wasn't revulsion
or fear, it was desire.
Again his mouth possessed hers. But this time his kiss had a different personality.
It was just as hungry, just as savage, but far less rough. His tongue was rowdy and
undisciplined, but not vicious. It gave pleasure rather than inflicted punishment.
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Another emotion rose out of Laura's rage. From the cleft between her thighs, heat
began to swirl in widening circles. She struggled for her arms to be freed, not to
get away from him, but to participate in this stormy exchange of kisses. When he
did release her hands, she plunged them into his hair, twining her fingers through
it to hold his mouth against hers.
Groaning, he dipped his head and kissed her neck so ardently that he left faint
bruises on her fragile skin. "I can't wait any longer, baby. I've got to have you.
Now."
He wedged his hand between their bodies and lifted her skirt. She accommodated
him, assisting by raising her hips when he slipped her panties down. He worked
frantically with the zipper of his jeans to free himself. He was warm and hard. He
placed the velvety tip of his sex against her. "Will I hurt you?"
"I don't know."
"Do you care?"
Her head thrashed from side to side. "No."
He entered her cautiously. Then, encouraged by the way her body yielded to him,
he completed his possession with one swift stroke.
Gnashing his teeth against the ultimate sensation that engulfed him, James
burrowed his head in the hollow of her shoulder. He gave her body time to adjust
to the violation of his, but even the strictest self-imposed restraint couldn't
prevent him from doing what nature had ordained. The rhythm of his thrusts
increased until an explosive climax seized him.
He settled against Laura heavily, his breath a tempest in her ear. "Are you in pain,
Laura?"
"No," she answered honestly. There was no pain, only a supreme dissatisfaction.
Her body was still restless.
"I'm sorry." He kissed her ear.
"For what?"
Laughing softly, he raised his head and gazed down into her puzzled eyes. She still
didn't know what she had missed. "My darling, innocent, highbrow girl." Affection
shone from his eyes as he lowered his lips to hers. His mouth was infinitely tender
as he kissed her. He made atonement for the violent kisses he had given her in
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what now seemed like another lifetime.
Laura angled her mouth beneath his and responded with considerably more
passion than he'd expected. "Laura? Laura? Baby?" His lips pressed harder upon
hers. His tongue sought the warmest depths of her mouth. She folded her arms
across his back. Her legs shifted against his. She hugged his hips between her
thighs.
"I'm getting hard again." He moaned.
"Are we going to do it again?"
"Can we?"
"Can't we?"
"You want to?" He looked down at her in amazement.
She nodded her head vigorously.
In an instant he left her and climbed off the bed. He undressed with reckless
abandon, flinging away garments the moment he tore them off his body. Still lying
on the bed, Laura undressed with the same kind of frenzy.
"What the hell am I doing?" James asked himself aloud. Standing naked beside
the bed, he raked his hand through his hair and shook his head self-derisively.
His wife wet her lips. "I thought we were going to—"
"Oh, we are, baby, we are. But what's the rush?" Laura pointedly glanced down at
his body, which gave every indication of urgency. He chuckled as he bent down
and softly kissed her mouth. "It'll keep."
"Promise?"
"I promise," he said raspily. He lifted her onto the pillows and turned the covers
back before he joined her on the bed.
Then, gently, he enfolded her in his arms. "You're beautiful. I like you naked." He
kissed her mouth wantonly. His tongue was intimate. Timid at first, Laura soon
gave herself up to the sensations that undulated through her as his lips explored
her body.
Every part of her knew his sweet caresses, breasts and belly and thighs. Between
them. He told her in husky whispers how much he loved tasting himself there.
And he continued tasting until she knew what he had apologized for moments
earlier.
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Even after that orgasmic initiation, she blushed at his bold touch and the
audacious things he said. Not out of shame. Out of pure, undiluted joy. She was
discovered, not degraded, by his caressing hands and mouth. Through his loving,
she came to know herself.
And him. Never had she imagined that a man's body could be such a sensual feast.
She thought he was beautiful. Once she had overcome an endearing shyness, she
expressed her delight in him.
"Put your mouth there." He gently clasped her head between his hands and
guided it to where her fingertips were curiously caressing. He sighed brokenly
when she carried his instructions one step further and capriciously flicked her
tongue against his skin. "Damn." He groaned. "I knew you'd be good. I knew it."
They spent the entire afternoon in bed, making love so many times and so
frequently that the room became steamy. Their bodies grew slippery with sweat.
Sunlight filtered in through the partially closed slats of the shutters and striped
their nakedness with alluring shadows. Gradually those shadows lengthened and
stretched across the walls and floor. Still they lay amidst the tangled, damp sheets,
exploring, and exultant in their discoveries.
James suggested they cool off by taking a tepid bath. Laura sat between his thighs,
her back resting on his chest, as he reclined against the tub. Lazily he ladled water
over her breasts, watching as it trickled down her body and funneled between her
thighs.
"I still can't believe I'm doing this with you," Laura said reflectively. Her hands
were squeezing his thighs, testing the strength of the hard muscles beneath the
hair-dusted skin.
"We're married."
"I can't believe that either," she said, laughing softly.
"Why?"
She shrugged, and he delighted in what the involuntary gesture did to her breasts.
"I don't know. You're not at all what I thought I'd marry."
"You planned on marrying some milquetoast who wouldn't know how to begin to
give you pleasure in bed."
She gave a clump of hair on his thigh a vicious tug, and he yelped. "Don't be so
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smug. What makes you so sure you're pleasuring me in bed?"
"I've got the battle scars to prove it." He cited a faint scratch on his shoulder.
"So I'm polite," she said with another of those shrugs he found so adorable.
"Polite!" His bellowing laughter echoed off the tile walls of the bathroom. "Baby,
Emily Post never carried good manners that far."
"Shh!" she hissed. "And please spare me any boasts about your sexual expertise.
They only remind me of how many lovers you've had. I never liked hearing about
your conquests, even in high school."
He painted his initials on her bare shoulder with a wet fingertip. "I can
understand how you would feel that way now. But why way back then?"
"I think I was jealous."
"Jealous?" Surprised, he sat up straighter, sloshing water onto the floor. "But you
never even flirted with me."
"I wouldn't have dared. You were too dangerous to flirt with. I would have run in
the opposite direction if you'd responded." She lowered her eyelids coyly. "That
doesn't mean I wasn't intrigued. I'm intrigued by tigers, too, but I wouldn't want
to be left alone with one."
"So I'm like a tiger, huh?" He slid his arms around her waist, pulled her higher
against his lap, and made a snarling sound in her ear.
"Yes," she murmured, her eyes closing in pleasure. "Only hungrier. And wilder."
"And hornier."
He turned her around to face him. She complied. And by the time they got out to
dry each other, there was more water on the floor than was left in the tub.
"Do you think we should put in an appearance at dinner?" Laura asked.
"Do we gotta?" He was holding her breasts in his palms, playfully aggravating her
responsive nipples with his thumbs.
"I think we should, yes."
"Sure?"
He dropped to his knees. "Hmm … uh … yes."
"Sure?"
She sighed his name.
* * *
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Much later, dressed and walking arm in arm, they descended the staircase and
entered the dining room. The table had been set with the finest china and silver.
The crystal picked up the flickering light of the candles burning in the floral
centerpiece.
"Mommy, Daddy," Mandy cried, sliding out of her chair when she saw them. She
came running toward them and embraced them both around their legs. "I thought
you'd never come downstairs! Gladys told me I had to sit nice and still and quiet
until you did. She wouldn't let me go in your room and wake you up and she
wouldn't give me anything to eat because she said it would spoil my dinner. I'm
hungry. What took you so long? You sure did take a long nap."
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Tricks," James said without a trace of remorse. He
scooped Mandy up with one arm, still keeping the other hooked through Laura's.
"What's all this?" he asked, nodding toward the formally set dining-room table.
In answer, Gladys came bustling through the door that led into the kitchen.
Heavenly smells wafted in behind her. "This is a special dinner, 'cause I think we
all have something to celebrate." She gave the couple a broad, knowing smile.
"We certainly do," James said, surreptitiously sliding his arm down Laura's back
and giving her bottom a light pinch.
"Sit down before dinner gets cold. I know you're hungry." The housekeeper's eyes
rolled suggestively. When Laura blushed, she cackled with satisfaction.
The meal was sumptuous. It was one of the happiest occasions Laura could
remember. She had thought she was in love with James before. But the love that
welled up inside her now couldn't be contained. Frequently it sought an outlet in
the form of tears. They caught the candlelight and glistened in her eyes every time
she looked at him.
"Happy?" he asked, clasping her hand where it rested on the pristine tablecloth.
"Very."
"I'm getting there myself," he drawled teasingly. His eyes, partially closed and
seductive, focused on her mouth.
Together they took Mandy upstairs to her room, where getting her undressed and
into pajamas became a wrestling match. When she finally wound down, they saw
that she was tucked into bed and listened to her prayers. She made supplications
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for everyone she knew and some she didn't know. When she began enumerating
rock stars, James concluded the lengthy prayer with a firm "Amen," and turned
off the lamp.
"Why so pensive?"
He came up behind Laura and placed his hands on her shoulders. She was sitting
at her dressing table, staring vacantly into the mirror. As soon as they had
returned to their suite, she had undressed and slipped into a silk wrapper. James
had stripped down to his trousers.
"I was just thinking."
"About what?" he asked lightly.
"About…" She lowered her eyes demurely. "I'm not taking the pill or anything.
And you didn't … uh…"
"Don't worry, I'll take care of it." He massaged her neck. "Preventing pregnancy
isn't all that's on your mind, is it?"
"I have so many reasons to be happy." She reached up and covered one of his
hands with hers.
"Do I sense an unspoken 'but'?"
She smiled weakly. "It's just that I hesitate to bring up a subject that might spoil
today."
His eyes met hers in the mirror. He withdrew his hands from her shoulders and
wordlessly left the dressing room. Laura sighed, stood, and turned out the light.
When she entered the bedroom, James was standing at the window, his hands
shoved deep into his trouser pockets.
"You were right, James. It's none of my business."
He came around slowly. "Let me get one thing straight." She braced herself for his
anger and was shocked when he said, "I wasn't angry at you this afternoon. I was
mad at myself because you were so right."
She crossed the room quickly, took his hand, and led him to the bed, seating him
on the fresh sheets Gladys had discreetly put on while they were having dinner. "I
know it won't be easy for you, but try talking to me about it." Laura encouraged
him by speaking softly and pressing his hands.
"There's nothing to talk about, really. I'm a real sonofabitch where my mother is
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concerned. I admit it. Beyond taking care of her material needs, I want nothing to
do with her."
"Why?"
"Because she represents everything I was running away from when I left here over
ten years ago. The poverty. The hand-to-mouth existence. The reputation of being
the sorriest, poorest family in town."
"You rose above that."
"But she didn't!" He stood and began pacing. "I begged her to leave with me, but
she chose to stay with him."
"Him? Your father?"
"Father!" he said scornfully. "That drunken slob didn't know the meaning of the
word." Pain, naked and bleak, filled his green eyes. "When I was a little kid I
wanted to love him. I really did. I wanted to brag about my dad the way the other
boys carried on about theirs.
"Then, when I realized what a no-account bum my father was, I felt ashamed.
Other kids laughed at him, made fun of us. So I pretended that he wasn't my real
father. I dreamed up an imaginary man who had been with my mother, just so I
wouldn't have to admit being kin to the man who had actually fathered me."
Laura pressed her fingers against her lips to keep from making a sound, but tears
filled her eyes. His pain touched her deeply. No wonder he had been such a hellraiser.
His rebellion had been a bid for attention, a substitute for the love lacking
in his life. He had set out to prove that he was worthy of someone's notice.
"He used to beat us. Did you know that?" She made a gasping sound and shook
her head. "Well, he did. I lived in constant fear of provoking him. Then, when I
got big enough, I started fighting back. But that only made him madder, and when
I wasn't there to protect her, he'd work Mother over. "
Laura's shoulders slumped, and she covered her face with her hands. "Oh, God."
James spun around angrily. "Yeah, you can say that again. Where was He? Why
does He let things like that happen to innocent people?"
"I don't know, James. I don't know." Tears splashed against her face when she
shook her head.
"I was determined to finish high school so I wouldn't be as ignorant as my old
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man. Then I worked in that stinking garage until I had saved enough money to
split. But not before pleading with Mother to go too. She refused to leave him."
Even now he was bewildered by her decision, and shook his head in perplexity. "I
couldn't understand why she would stay. But she did. When he died, I didn't even
come back home for his funeral. I sent her money so she wouldn't be destitute,
but I vowed never to feel sorry for her. She made her choice."
He flopped back down on the bed and hung his head in his hands, breathing
heavily from anger and exertion. His dejection made him seem more touchable.
Laying a hand on his tousled hair, Laura selected her words carefully, then
