“Are you trying to drive me crazy on purpose?”
“The truth?” she offered candidly.
“Please. I feel like I’m dangling in the wind, here.”
“Well, if you are, you’re not dangling alone, because I’m right out there with you. I don’t think I know what I’m doing. What we’re doing.”
One side of his mouth curved up. “At least you said we. Does that mean you see us together?”
Her heart rate kicked into high speed. She stared, dry-mouthed, at the swirl of raspberry sauce trailing across her cheesecake. Okay, he wouldn’t be asking if he didn’t want her to say yes, would he? If he didn’t want there to be a we, he would change the subject. “I shouldn’t.”
“Why?”
“Because we barely know each other,” she offered. “Because I don’t think either one of us is sure about what we do or don’t see in each other.”
He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “I don’t have a crystal ball, and I don’t want one.”
“You don’t want to see how everything will turn out?”
“No.” He shook his head emphatically. “What if I’d foreseen what happened to Brenda? Maybe I would have decided not to marry her so I wouldn’t have to lose her the way I did. Look what I would have missed. All those years of love, the three most beautiful babies in the world. What if I’d avoided the pain I knew was coming?”
“But wouldn’t your crystal ball also have shown you the love and happiness, and the babies?”
“When’s the last time you ever heard a fortune teller say, ‘I see good times ahead for you’?”
She chuckled at his thick Gypsy accent. “Good point. However, they never predict a woman will meet a man who’s short, pale and ugly, either. He’s always tall, dark and handsome.”
By tacit agreement, the talk did not return to the subject of we. They finished their dessert, then drove to a nearby multiplex movie theater. They couldn’t decide which movie to see. In the end, they nixed the love story, the romantic comedy, the family Christmas movie, the war epic, and went for the movie with no elements that spoke to their personal situation—a safe, sensible science-fiction action thriller.
It was just their luck that there was a hot, erotic love scene near the end of the movie. The kind of scene that sent hot blood pulsing in intimate places. Riley and Amy both stared studiously at the screen, each making certain not to catch the other’s eye. But they would probably have bruises from the tightness of their grip on each other’s hand.
They were silent on the way home. Not even the radio broke the humming monotony of tires on blacktop. A casual glance might make someone think that each was off in his or her own little world, paying no attention to the other. And in one respect, that was true. Amy was thinking how much quieter Riley’s nice sedan was than her old rattletrap and wishing it wasn’t so, for fear that in this quiet car he could hear her swallow, and hear her heart pound. Riley was thinking how lucky he was that the girls were spending the night with Marva and Frank, because he was in absolutely no hurry to go home.
They’d been holding hands since before that steamy scene in the movie. Neither seemed inclined to let go. So they held on. All the way home.
For two single adults on a Saturday-night date, they returned to Amy’s apartment at the embarrassingly early hour of eleven o’clock.
For the first time since starting for home, Amy turned her head and looked at Riley. “I don’t have anything to offer you to drink, but you’re welcome to come up. If you want.”
He met her gaze. The dash light and the street light at the end of the parking lot brought an intimacy to the car’s interior. “I’d like that.” He squeezed her hand gently. “Thanks.” His fingers slid away from hers as he opened his door.
All evening he’d been opening doors for her, so she sat still and let him circle the car and help her out. Immediately they clasped hands again, then turned and climbed the stairs together.
Anticipation danced along Amy’s nerves. Beside it, fear tried to cut in, but yearning was stronger and pushed it aside. She unlocked her door and they stepped inside her dark apartment.
Riley pushed the door closed behind them.
“It’s dark,” she said inanely.
He pulled her closer. “You scared?”
Suddenly there didn’t seem to be enough air in the room. “No,” she told him. “Yes. Maybe. A little.”
Holding both of her hands in both of his, he pressed them to his chest. “Me, too.”
That was all it took to ease her worries. This might turn out to be the biggest mistake of her life, but for tonight, it was right.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered, sidling closer until her breath skimmed his chin. “I’ll protect you.”
With a low growl, Riley wrapped his arms tightly around her and kissed her. More than kissed, he ravaged, he devoured. She reveled.
“I’ve been waiting all night to taste you,” he murmured as he took his mouth across her cheek, down her neck, back to her lips.
“So have I,” she managed on a breath of scarce air. Her entire body felt too big for her skin, as though she might explode any minute. Heat threatened to boil her blood in her veins. She wanted more of him.
As if on cue, they stepped together toward her bedroom door. His jacket and hers fell away while their mouths fused together. When they came up for air they found themselves standing next to her bed.
“I want to see you,” he said.
She wanted to see him, too. She turned on the bedside lamp, which cast a circle of light across their legs and half the bed.
With a smile, he threaded his fingers through her hair. “I’ve never seen it down before.”
The feel of his fingers on her scalp and threading through her hair made her groan in pleasure. “I like that.”
“I like it, too.”
With her eyes closed, she ran her hands up into his hair and smiled. “Like that?”
“Oh, yeah. But I meant I like my hands in your hair, too. But don’t stop,” he added quickly when she moved as if to take her hands away. “This works for me.” He moved his head to press it more firmly into her hands.
Amy opened her eyes and saw him. With his head tilted back, his throat was exposed. She pressed her open mouth against his Adam’s apple and tasted his flesh, finding it sharp, salty, tangy. When he moaned, she felt the vibration against her tongue and smiled.
With a twist of his head, he fused his lips to hers again and took her mouth deep and hard. Amy gave him everything she had, and took all he offered, and knew it was too late for her—she was already in love with him.
What came next began as a slow dance of heat and desire that escalated quickly into a rush of fire and nerves, of rasping breath and shaking hands. They kissed and tugged at each other’s clothes, letting them land wherever they chose. And they laughed when they had to stop for Riley to tug off his boots. He found it hard to do with Amy trailing open-mouthed kisses across his bare back.
The boots landed with twin thuds. Never had Riley been so glad to be rid of them. And never did he remember laughing so much during the removal, or being so thoroughly distracted.
Then he turned to take Amy in his arms and froze. He knew, without asking, what he was seeing. The pale pink scar on her left side, just below her ribs.
With a hand that wanted to tremble, he touched a finger to the scar, felt the extra-thick skin that was part smooth, part puckered. “You left a little something out of the story about that day in Iraq.”
Amy flinched slightly at his touch, wondering if he found the scar ugly. She had never cared what it looked like; she had earned it on the field of battle. She straightened her shoulders and stood firm. Let him look. “What should I have said?” she asked him. “Your wife was killed protecting me, but oh, yes, I was shot, too, so let’s focus on me, not her?”
“That’s not what we would have thought, that you were looking for, what, attention? Sympathy? It would have given us an e
ven clearer picture of how bad it was on that road that day if we’d realized you were injured, too. Was it as bad as it looks? Your wound?”
Amy’s tension eased. “It’s the only time I was shot, so I don’t have anything to compare it to.”
He stroked the scar again, and this time she shivered, and not from cold. “It—the bullet didn’t hit anything important.”
Relief flooded Riley as he pulled her against his chest and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m so glad. So incredibly glad.” She felt so good, so right in his arms. So different from the shape and texture he’d been used to, yet so much the same. He knew comparing Amy to Brenda was unfair to both of them, and to him. He let those thoughts fade away and concentrated on the woman in his arms.
She was firm and strong and smelled so sweet. He took her down onto the bed and filled his hands with her, loving the shape of her muscles, and those softer areas. Her breasts fit perfectly in his palms. He trailed his mouth along her jaw and down, lingering to dip his tongue in the hollow of her throat. He liked the way it wobbled when she swallowed.
But he was after plumper game. He kissed his way down the valley between her breasts, then up one slope to the tip. As hard as he already was, the feel of her nipple against his tongue made him harder. He lapped at it, flicked his tongue across it, then settled in and suckled.
Amy arched clear off the bed, the feeling was so exquisite.
Riley growled low in satisfaction. Her responsiveness fed the flames in his gut, pushing him toward the edge. But he wanted to take his time. This feeling of freedom and welcome and sharp arousal was something he wanted to wallow in as long as possible.
He trailed his mouth down the slope of one breast and up to the peak of the other. With his hands he explored the curve of her waist, the flair of her hip, up again to the firmness of her abdomen, feeling it undulate beneath his touch.
The slight scrape of his calloused fingers against her bare flesh took Amy’s breath away. She loved those rough, hard hands that were so gentle yet so bold, so arousing. She wanted to feel them everywhere, and she wanted to touch him everywhere.
His skin was so smooth. So hot. She grasped, loving the hard curve of muscle beneath.
His hand on her belly inched lower, lower still.
A small sound escaped her throat. If it sounded like a plea, that’s because it was. She wanted this to be as right as it felt. Right for both of them. If a secret fear lived in her heart that they were moving too fast, that this, as wonderful as it was, could lead to disaster, she pushed it away. She wanted his touch. Wanted his hand to move lower, and lower still. And then it did.
His lips traveled over her belly to her side, to the scar earned on a road halfway around the world. His lips and tongue stroked the spot and suddenly she smiled. Who knew a scar from a bullet wound could become an erogenous zone?
His mouth trailed up her torso, along her throat, and settled hungrily over her mouth, while his hand laid gentle siege between her legs. Her hips flexed all on their own, pushing her harder against his hand.
The heat and tension built and built. Her hands slid down his sides and over his taut belly. With one hand she encircled the hard length of him, gratified by the way he sucked in his breath.
“Wait. Wait,” he said breathlessly.
“Wha—”
“Protection.” He reached toward his jeans on the floor and fished his wallet from the hip pocket.
Amy’s mind was in such a fog that it took her a long moment to realize he was getting and donning a condom. She kissed his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He gave her a deep chuckle. “You know what they call a guy who forgets this, don’t you?”
She reached down to help him finish rolling the condom into place. “No. What?”
“Daddy.”
She looked at him blankly, then, when he smiled, she threw her arms around his waist and burst out laughing. “Is that a fact?”
He nudged her knees apart and settled his hips between her thighs. “I am living proof.”
“Then—” He moved, and she gasped. “—I really do thank you.”
His grin turned wicked. “You think that’s good, just wait.”
She laughed again. She had never laughed during sex before. This time with Riley felt so different, so much more than she’d ever felt. Inside she knew that she and Riley were not merely having sex. They were making love. And they were laughing.
She felt as if she could fly.
Riley looked down at the glow on her face and the emotion in her eyes and let himself believe that she was his. And then he entered her, and rational thought disappeared.
Amy welcomed the stretching fullness. He seemed to fill her clear up to her heart. Then he eased out, almost all the way, and she felt like weeping until he pushed in again. He withdrew, then filled her, withdrew, filled. Slowly, slowly, slowly, faster, faster, harder, hotter. He took her higher than she’d ever flown. She held on tight and cried out as everything inside her burst free. Colored lights flashed behind her closed eyelids.
A moment later Riley stiffened in her arms. He threw back his head and ground his hips against her. She held him tight and urged him home.
Chapter Nine
Amy regained her wits as she did her breath—slowly. The warm weight of Riley Sinclair anchored her where she lay. Was he the anchor she’d been seeking all her life? The person with whom she could put down roots?
Her heart, so recently slowed to normal, gave a leap. She wouldn’t make the mistake she’d seen so many of her friends make, that of thinking one night of good sex—okay, mind-numbing sex—meant happily ever after.
She tightened her arms around Riley’s shoulders, still not sure of her own emotions, let alone his.
“You’re thinking too hard.”
She gave a start. “What?”
He pushed himself up onto his forearms and cradled her face in his hands. “I guess I know you better than I thought. Right now you’re trying to decide if this means we know what we’re doing.”
“Home builder, child rearer and now mind reader?” She ran her hands up and down his arms. “Or are you thinking the same thing?”
“I won’t be capable of rational thought for a while yet.”
She smiled and stared at his chin to avoid looking him in the eyes. “I know what you mean.”
“Liar,” he said softly as he nuzzled his nose alongside of hers. “Your wheels started turning the minute you caught your breath.”
She threaded her fingers together behind his neck. “What makes you think that?”
He kissed her with so much tenderness, she nearly wept. “Because every muscle in your delectable body tensed.”
She forced herself to relax. “Is that better?”
“I wasn’t complaining,” he said. “Just making an observation.” He rolled to his side and took her with him until they were again face to face. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” she asked, her heart aching.
“You didn’t deserve to have your thoughts questioned the way I just did.”
“Shh.” She placed her fingers over his lips. “Let’s just forget it, okay?”
“All right.” He kissed her once, twice, three times. “We’ll start over.” He kissed her again, more deeply this time. “Hi. How ya doin’?”
This was better, Amy thought. Don’t talk about it. No use in talking about it. Not now, when the glow was still on. And oh, what a glow. “I’m doing fine. More than fine.”
He kissed her on the temple, then tucked her head under his chin and hugged her to his chest. “Good. I’m glad.”
“Okay, great. I’m glad we cleared that up. We’re dynamite in bed together.”
“You won’t get any argument out of me. But I guess you’re wanting to know about out of bed.”
“I don’t think we’ve solved anything tonight. I don’t think we’ve answered any questions about what we really feel.”
“We answered one.”
<
br /> She heard the smile in his voice. “Are you laughing at me?”
“No. I just don’t have an answer for you.”
“You don’t know if you’re just using me to fill Brenda’s place, and I don’t know if I’m grabbing at some ideal I made up in my mind from the stories Brenda told me.”
He pushed her hair away from her face and studied her. “Does it matter? Wait before you answer. I mean, does it really matter right this minute, if we don’t understand what the future holds? I don’t have any guarantees to offer, Amy. All I know is that tonight, I want you, and you want me. Do we need anything more than that right now?”
Before she could answer, he kissed her. He took her mouth with a fierceness that stunned. She caught fire and matched him, desperate breath for desperate breath. There was no slow buildup this time. They came together in a storm of emotions and physical need so sharp she ached. A yawning emptiness grew inside her. She instinctively knew that no one could ever fill that emptiness for her except Riley.
She welcomed him inside her body and held him close, for those few minutes not caring if there were tomorrows for them, or only tonight. She could live a long time on memories of a night like this. If she didn’t completely lose her mind in the flash of heat that engulfed them both.
There was a fierceness to their lovemaking this time, a demand for everything, and they gave it. Heat and madness of passion took over and left no room for thought or worries or what-ifs. There was only the give and take of bodies suddenly slicked with sweat. She met him thrust for thrust, gasp for aching gasp, until the impossibly tight wires inside her snapped and she broke free and soared. And soared again a moment later when he followed her over the edge.
They lay together in each other’s arms for some time. It was impossible to tell how long, and Amy had no desire to look at the clock on her bedside table. Eventually they stirred.
He nuzzled the spot just behind her ear. “I have to go,” he whispered.
“I know.” In a town this small, a local businessman and father of young girls had to mind his reputation. She understood that.
“Do you?” With a finger to the side of her jaw, he turned her head until she faced him. “The girls are with their grandparents, so I’m okay there. But my car’s right out there in front of your apartment. I don’t want any talk about you. We’re a small, friendly town, but we can be nosy.”
Riley and His Girls (Mills & Boon Vintage Cherish) (Mills & Boon Cherish) Page 11
