In the filter of moonlight, her eyes gleaming like raw honey were riveted to his. Almost in slow motion her lips parted, then pressed together tightly. Fear, doubt, anticipation. He had no idea what to make of the unconscious gesture. What must have been mere seconds seemed to take an eternity. Her gaze remained fixed on his while her silence toyed with every nervous vein in his body. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything, shouldn’t have put her on the spot, should have simply ignored this insanely huge white elephant standing between them. Forgotten every earth-shattering memory of his lips on hers.
It would be easier to forget to breathe. The feel of her lips on his, the sweet taste that was hers alone were forever seared in his heart, his mind, his very soul. He’d never forget.
She blinked then closed her eyes for a second longer. When her eyes opened her gaze dropped to where his finger still caressed her hand. “I didn’t.” Slowly, as if it took great effort, she let her eyes meet his. One side of her mouth twitched with amusement. Closing her fingers around his, the near smile faded. “I didn’t think you’d expect, but I hoped you still wanted.”
Still wanted? His heart rate kicked up a notch sending his blood pounding south in a wild rush. He was so hard it almost hurt. The urge to throw her over his shoulder like a fireman saving the trapped damsel and carry her up the stairs to the nearest bed was quickly overpowering what little good sense he had left. Taking this slow, doing it right, giving her a night of unbridled passion she’d never forget was fighting a losing battle with take her here and now, and don’t stop until she’s screaming your name loud enough to be heard back in New York.
Thick black lashes, sexy lashes that reminded him of every Italian screen goddess he’d ever seen, fluttered closed as her hand pulled away from his touch. “I should go back inside. Kat will be wondering where I ran off to.”
What? Without looking back at him she turned toward the house, her rounded backside swinging an inviting rhythm with every step. Where was she going? What did he say? Do?
Nothing. You jerk. She asked if he still wanted her and he stood there like an ice sculpture and said nothing. The screen door squeaked open then slammed shut and some of the blood pooling in his groin returned to his brain. Move, go after her.
Only half way up the hall, he could see the dejected slump of her shoulders. She’d misunderstood his silence. Thought he didn’t want her. “Anna, wait.”
His running footsteps slapped against the hardwood floors. The nearby staircase seemed miles away. Panting as though he’d run a marathon, his arm reached out and settled on her shoulder as she raised a foot onto the first step.
“Kat’s asleep on the sofa. I don’t have the heart to wake her.” She lifted her other foot to climb the next step and his hold tightened.
“Wait. I...” His thoughts flashed back to that night on the steps when she carried the blankets for his makeshift bed.
“If she doesn’t wake up soon, I’m sure she won’t mind if you sleep in her room tonight. You deserve a real bed. She fits better on the sofa anyhow.” Anna eased her shoulder out from under his grasp and moved up the stairs.
“That’s not what I was going to say.” He followed behind her. His heart hammered so fast he wondered if she couldn’t hear it. When she reached the top of the landing, he stopped beside her, grabbed hold of her arm and spun her around to face him. “I don’t care where I sleep.”
Squaring her shoulders, she nodded and pulled back.
His grip tightened, careful not to hurt her. “So long as it’s beside you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Her world had stopped. The feel of his hand on her arm turned the hot and heavy need simmering inside her to a full rolling boil. Every glorious sensation from yesterday afternoon came flooding back, turning her legs to rubber.
Words wouldn’t come. His eyes had shifted from sunny blue to stormy gray and she felt herself swept into the tempest like debris sucked into a whirling tornado. Even if for some insane reason she’d thought to slow down, back up, take a breath, she couldn’t have. Every nerve was on edge from the mere touch of his hand on her arm and the intimate heat of his gaze. She wanted it, all of it, to rock the house off its foundation.
Somewhere inside she found the strength to nod. In less than a heartbeat his strong arms scooped her up, lifting her off the floor, and carried her away. A small part of her felt like a virgin bride about to cross the threshold, timid, nervous, perhaps a bit frightened of what lay ahead. But the part of her that had already had a taste of heaven was voracious.
Tipping her head back, she stretched her neck and let the tip of her tongue glide along the edge of his jaw. God, he tasted so good. Like sun, and sweat, and all man. Need grew claws at the thought of tasting every salty inch of him. The tip of her tongue teased the edge of his ear, dipping into the narrow valleys. As he reached her bedroom door and nudged it open with his shoulder, she sucked the lobe into her mouth.
On a soft groan he stumbled, then caught his step. Reaching the bed he loosened his hold, letting her body slide against his till her wobbly legs touched the ground beneath her, at least she thought they did. She wasn’t sure of anything anymore except the crazed yearning inside her. His mouth found hers. The teasing meld of lips against lips, tongue tasting tongue, warm, wet and desperately wanting had her clinging to him like a wet t-shirt on a summer day.
She almost cried at the loss when he pulled his lips away, only to moan with pleasure when he nipped softly at the sensitive spot behind her ear. Then lower, and lower still, tugging at her shirt, his teeth skimmed the aching flesh above the lacey edge of her bra. “Oh, Mark, please.”
The low throaty sound of his name shot tendrils of sharp, thrilling heat straight to his groin. Just holding her in his arms made his blood burn. Her nibbling on his ear had damn near been enough to send him over the edge, and now he was losing what little vestiges of control he had left.
Long and slow he reminded himself, long and slow. That’s what he wanted for her. He could do this. Skimming his fingers down her sides, past the swell of her breasts, tracing the curve of her waist, he curled the edge of her top in his fingers and dragged it up over her head, tossing it across the room.
The sight of her soft flesh brimming over the edge of the white lace made his erection ache for relief. Down boy. He could do this. Ignoring the sexual rush, one hand nimbly undid the clasp while the other worked the fasteners on the side of her slacks as his mouth concentrated on the glorious feel of her silken skin.
He licked and nibbled his way down her throat. Nipped along the slope of her shoulder. Her breath caught. Continuing a single-minded path to her cleavage, he pushed the loose straps dangling over her shoulders and latched onto heaven.
Her breath hitched again, her head tipped back and her body bowed, thrusting the nipple forward, silently demanding more. Circling his arm more tightly around her, he greedily answered her plea. Sucking in a mouthful of flesh, he tugged and tasted while his free hand flicked and rubbed at the other breast.
“Oh, God.” Overload, she was on sensation overload. He was going to do it to her again. Send her flying over the crest of explosive ecstasy and he still had his clothes on. She wanted flesh against flesh. “You’re overdressed,” she mumbled, reaching for his shirt with arms that felt like melted wax, she fumbled with the buttons. “Naked. I want you naked.”
“Hang on,” he murmured, ducking to lick the other nipple, before looking up with a sly grin. “Patience.”
Scooping her into his arms as he’d done at the top of the stairs he raised one knee onto the bed and laid her atop it like a princess in an x-rated fairytale.
“We’ve got all night.” Two short pulls sent her slacks and panties flying across the room as though he wanted to put as much distance as humanly possible between her and her clothes. Not that she was complaining. She wanted to do the same to him, but then his mouth was on hers again driving her nearly insane. His hand swept the length of her body and back, slid from hi
p across her abdomen and down, pulling sweet sizzling sensations from deep within. She couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t fight it any longer. Like a rushing wave the orgasm crashed over her, carrying her out to a sea of blazing pleasure. He smothered her cries with another long soul-stealing kiss. His gentle touch eased her back to earth only to send her flying again with his name on her lips.
Her every muscle quivered with delight, and damn, he was still wearing his pants. At least somewhere in the passionate tangle of arms and legs, she’d managed to undo the buttons on his shirt. Raking her fingers across his chest, pausing to doodle sensual circles around the tiny pebbled nipples, she grinned with pride when his eyes narrowed and a low raw groan escaped from his throat.
She wanted to feel him, to taste him, to send the same shivers racking through his body that he had so agonizingly and exquisitely sent through her.
Pushing the shirt off his shoulders and shifting him onto his back, she flung a leg across him, straddling him, ready to give him the ride of his life. Blazing a trail of soft wet kisses down his chest, she undid his belt, lowered the zipper and hooked her fingers into the edge of his boxers. His stomach clenched and his fingers fisted in her hair. With her tongue playfully teasing his navel, in a single move she tugged at his boxers, springing his erection free. Reaching for the pants again, her long fingers grazed lightly across the tip.
“Christ.” He gasped. Shoving his pants down the rest of the way, he fumbled awkwardly in the pocket. Kicking the slacks off the bed, he ripped the foil packet open and slipped the protective cover over himself. Grabbing her hard, he tugged, urging her closer. “To hell with patience.”
The sudden urgency in his touch sent skitters of electricity down her spine. Sliding up his body her breasts brushed against the hard planes of his solid chest. The tantalizing friction brought his hips up off the bed, bucking hard against her. The contact almost turned her inside out with desire. Never had she wanted to lose herself so completely in a man before.
Folding herself over him, her breath ragged, she whispered into his ear, “I want to come down on you so badly.”
His hips bucked at her more forcefully as he buried a feral growl in her shoulder. Desperate to surround him, she captured his lips in a searing kiss, her tongue plunging into his mouth at the very moment her moist heat descended around him. Rising and sinking, over and over. Thrusting upward he matched every movement. Harder, deeper, the pace quickened. Her fingers bit into his sweat-slickened shoulders.
Her breasts bounced freely in his face as her own body coiled wildly like an over-wound spring. Feeling the pressure of a geyser ready to burst, her hips lost their rhythm.
“Yes,” he cried. “Come for me, baby, only for me.” Slipping a finger between them, he pushed her over the edge. Shattered by the explosive pleasure, she convulsed haphazardly around him. “Yes! All the way.” His body stiffened, his arms flexed possessively around her as he exploded inside her, filling her in ways she’d never imagined. Sending her places she’d never been.
Sprawled heavily across his chest, she licked the sweat from his shoulder then smiled into the crook of his neck. “Is the house still standing?”
Breathe. He couldn’t breathe. Heavy. Heart attack. He was having a heart attack.
The dream of all dreams had pushed him too far. The smell of her shampoo, was it apple? Whatever. The sweet scent still lingered in his memory, the taste of her remained on his tongue, the feel of her... the feel of her?
One eye opened. Every blood pulsing moment came rushing to mind. It wasn’t a dream. Last night he’d made love to Anna. The only thing pressing his heart was the memory of her. All five foot seven glorious inches of her. And every last one of them was either draped on, wrapped around, or clinging to him.
Perfection. Fanned across his chest like spun silk, her hair begged for his touch. Being able to simply watch her, study her, breathe her in was something he could easily get used to. Every morning for the rest of his life used to.
What was he thinking? She had a career she’d worked hard for. He wanted a wife who considered their family her career. He couldn’t ask her to give that up. Could he?
He liked the feel of Anna draped over him, her right leg nestled between both his legs, even when her knee shifted, teetering dangerously close to the family jewels. Jewels that had sprung to life the minute he realized the pressure on his chest wasn’t a heart attack but a red-blooded brunette he’d never again be able to keep his hands off.
His fingers sifted through her hair one more time, skimmed her bare shoulder and came to rest in the dip of her waist. The rest of his life.
There was also that pesky little problem of living on opposite ends of the continent. And their families. As much as Anna professed not wanting to live her life in a kitchen in the Bronx, she and her family were as close as he was to his. Not a day had gone by where Mrs. Bartiglioni hadn’t called to check on Anna and the girls. If Anna’s Aunt Mary hadn’t had hip replacement surgery and needed Mrs. B to help her, he didn’t doubt that she would have been on the next plane after Anna.
Tightening her hold around his waist, Anna squirmed, pressing her soft breasts against his already too aware flesh. His morning erection waved at him like a flag. He’d known she was built. No matter how well tailored her clothes were, she couldn’t hide that she was well endowed. Naked and exposed she was breathtaking, not skin and bones but curvaceous and full. The rest of his life.
At least he didn’t have to worry about Harrison. Or did he? No. He wasn’t going to do that to himself. They’d broken up. Kat had told him she thought it was a long time coming. Anna wouldn’t go back. Take Marcia and go back.
“Hey.” The arm wrapped around his waist moved up his chest, twirling one finger in his chest hairs.
“Morning.” He smiled. Nothing could stop the grin taking up his whole face. Not her job, her family and definitely not Harrison.
“What time is it?” she asked, stretching like a well-fed kitty.
“Six-fifteen.”
Her toe ran a lazy trail up and down his leg. Apparently the old song was wrong. His leg bone was directly connected to his dick, because it was ready for a little, okay, a lot of attention.
“Think Marcia will sleep in?” Her sleepy drawl had what little blood was left in the rest of his body pooling between his legs.
“I certainly hope so.” The words hadn’t had time to drift the length of the room when he flipped her onto her back, hovered over her, praying the soft knocking was his heart and not someone at the bedroom door.
“Anna, honey, you need to wake up.” Kat’s voice came through the closed door.
“I’m up,” Anna called out loudly.
“So am I,” he breathed into her ear.
“I hate to bother you so early, but Marcia’s starting to stir, and I can’t find Mark.”
“She’s not the only thing stirring,” he whispered, then planted a quick kiss on her cheek and rolled aside, pulling the sheet up and over her.
“Anna?” Kat’s voice rose an octave. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” She blew out a very long, frustrated breath. “We’ll be right out.”
“We?” Kat trailed off. “Oh, we.” She giggled. “Oops. Sorry.”
“She’s not the only one.” Mark hobbled on one leg, pulling his pants on.
Grabbing the sheet and wrapping it around her like a Roman toga, Anna hopped out of bed and sidled up beside him. “I’m sorry, too.”
The apology in her eyes cut right through him. “Don’t be. My body may think it’s a horny teenager, but I’m not. I understand.” Lifting the back of his hand against her face, he lightly brushed her cheek. “Did I mention how beautiful you are?”
“You might have mumbled something about that around two o’clock this morning.”
“I should have said it more often. You are.”
“Thank you.” Her lashes fluttered closed and her cheeks flushed.
“You’re even more beau
tiful when you blush. Like a Coney Island Kewpie doll.”
“What do you know about Coney Island?”
“Enough. I also know I...”
Oh God. He’d almost said it. When she’d smiled up at him appreciatively, his heart gushed and his mouth opened. Nowhere in between did his brain kick in. Did she want to hear it? Did she want to hear it from him? Would it be fair to dump one more thing on her already overloaded plate?
For a few short seconds she stared at him waiting, then the sweet smile slipped from her face. A furrow of concern pleated her brow. “You what?”
No, he couldn’t. Later. Later when everything was over. All the problems behind him. Then he could tell her. “I can wait.”
Her face lit up again. A single finger rose up and trailed a quick line across his chin. “I’m not sure I can.” She turned and sashayed into the bathroom.
Coward.
“So spill. I want it all - every gruesome detail.”
“What makes you think it’s gruesome?” For thirty-five years blushing had never been a problem. Now after the best sex of her life, Anna couldn’t seem to stop.
“Yes!” Slapping her hands together Kat rubbed them enthusiastically. Seated on the floor, her legs folded like Sitting Bull, she all but salivated waiting for Anna to speak.Unlike her limber friend, Anna sat on the comfortable sofa, shaking her head. “Let’s not get carried away.”
“Oh, by all means, lets. Mark said he’d be home with Marcia in a couple of hours. That was twenty minutes ago. I want a blow-by-blow description.” Kat held up a hand and smirked. “Sorry, no pun intended.”
“Really.” Her face flushed again. “You never wanted a blow-by-blow description of life with Harrison.”
“Why the hell would I want details about Mr. Stodgy? I want to know all about Mr. Hunk. Who knows, maybe I’ll take his brother up on that offer to go with him to Big Sur for a few days.”
The Champagne Sisterhood Page 23
