Miranda’s sturdy little body felt right in his arms. The baby laughed up at him and patted his cheek with her grubby fingers. He smiled at her.
Jeff lifted his gaze from the baby to Laura. A fist tightened around his chest, squeezing until he thought drawing a deep breath would be impossible.
Yes, he had missed Miranda.
But he longed for Laura.
Every night, he lay in his bed and listened for the sounds of her moving about her room. He fantasized at work about her oversize sweatshirts and the perfect breasts they hid. His dreams were filled with visions of her, in the silk-and-lace underwear he knew she loved. He remembered every moment of their one night together, and those memories kept his body tight and his temper with co-workers short.
Something had to be done.
“I’ve missed her,” he said softly.
Laura nodded, a film of water glimmering in her eyes.
“I’ve missed you, too.”
Her gaze snapped up to his. “This isn’t helping.”
“What would help, Laura?” he asked, stepping in close to her.
“I don’t know that anything can,” she said quietly.
“Damn it, why are you making this so hard?” Jeff reached out with one hand, caught her chin with his fingertips and tilted her head up until he could look into the brown eyes that seemed to be deeper and more velvety every time he saw them. “It doesn’t have to be.
“Of course it does,” she said with a slow shake of her head. “Neither of us planned on this happening.”
Plans. She surely was big on plans. But then, he admitted silently, he used to be, too. Until about fifteen pounds of female trouble had landed in his lap and shattered any sense of planning that he’d ever done.
Suddenly, something Laura’d said to him the night they had made love came back to him, and in the next instant, he heard himself tossing her words back at her.
“Didn’t you tell me that plans don’t always work out? That life has a way of just happening?” Her gaze shifted from his. He went on. “You said you had to adapt. To adjust.”
“This is different,” she protested, her voice husky as it scraped past her throat.
“How?”
She shook her head, apparently unable to come up with a valid reason. Hurriedly, Jeff pushed on.
“I’ve wanted you, Laura,” he said, willing her to hear the hunger in his voice. “I dream about holding you again. Burying myself inside you. Feeling your heartbeat thundering against my chest.”
She dragged in a long, shaky breath and slowly lifted her gaze to meet his.
She was weakening; he could feel it. Desire roared through him.
“Tonight, Laura,” he demanded, and congratulated himself on making his voice work despite the knot of need lodged in his throat. “Give me tonight, and we’ll let tomorrow take care of itself.”
Her breathing quickened and shallowed out. Her teeth pulled nervously at her bottom lip.
A long moment passed, and Jeff wondered desperately if he’d pushed too hard, or not enough. He was only certain of one thing. He couldn’t spend another long, lonely night with her so close and yet so far away.
He needed her, damn it.
“It’s a mistake,” she whispered.
“It’s inevitable,” he countered.
“We shouldn’t,” she said.
“But we will?”
“Yes,” she agreed helplessly. “We will.”
By the time Miranda was bathed, fed and put down to sleep, Laura’s nerves were as tightly strung as piano wire. Her stomach pitched and rolled constantly, and a low, burning ache had settled at her center, reminding her of what was coming.
She flipped the faucets on and turned the handles until the stream of water rushing from the showerhead was just the right temperature.
The small bathroom filled with steam slowly. It crept from behind the edge of the white shower curtain and swirled over the tiled floor like warm fog. Then it lifted in a slow, writhing dance, twisting around her calves and thighs as it reached for the ceiling.
Laura stared into the mirror as she pinned her hair up on top of her head. Her gaze slipped over her reflection idly, and she couldn’t help wondering what Jeff found so appealing about her figure. Her breasts were too small to be voluptuous, her hips too rounded to be fashionable, and she would never have a small waist. Her legs were her best feature, and they were far too short.
Self-consciously, she wrapped her arms around her middle and wasn’t surprised to find that her hands were cold, despite the rising, damp heat in the bathroom.
She shouldn’t have agreed to this, she told herself sternly. She should have been strong. She should have told him that adding to their first mistake would only compound the problem.
Instantly, visions of their time on the couch raced through her mind, and her nipples tightened in anticipation. She groaned quietly and admitted that it was pointless to fight it. Whatever attraction lay between her and Jeff, it was too strong to ignore.
Sighing, she turned, stepped into the tub and drew the curtain closed behind her. She moved beneath the spray of water, letting it pour onto her face and chest. The hot, stinging, needlelike drops pelted her skin and teased her already raw nerve endings.
Snatching the bar of soap, she rubbed it between her palms, working up a good lather before applying the suds to her shoulders and neck.
“Can I do your back?” a deep, rumbling voice penetrated the steamy wall surrounding her, and Laura jumped, startled.
“Go away,” she ordered, instinctively keeping her back to him as he drew the curtain aside and stepped over the rim to join her beneath the rush of hot water.
One of his hands touched her shoulder and slowly, lazily drifted along her spine to her behind.
Laura shivered.
“We both want to take a shower,” he said, the rumble of his voice echoing in the small room. “Why not save water while we’re at it?”
Laura groaned inwardly. It was one thing to make love to a man in the dark shadows of a bedroom—or a living room—she qualified silently. It was quite another to stand in the bright fluorescent light of a bathroom and have him share a shower in a tub that seemed to be shrinking by the second.
“Laura?” he said softly.
She shot him a quick, backward glance and knew immediately that she was sunk.
Clouds of steam wound around his head. Pale blue eyes shimmering with the heat of desire watched her. Droplets of water clung to the faint brush of dark blond hair that dusted his broad chest. Her gaze dropped farther, landing on the hard, thick proof of the need he felt for her.
“Hand me the soap,” he coaxed.
Wordlessly, she did as he asked. She watched as he worked up a lather, then held her breath as he reached for her.
His strong hands fell on her shoulders. His fingers rubbed at either side of her neck, and she felt her muscles liquefy as he gently eased away the tight knots of tension.
Laura leaned forward, resting her forehead on the cool, wet, tiled wall and concentrated on the feel of his hands. Soapy lather made his skin glide along hers, down the length of her spinal column to the curve of her bottom.
His palms cupped her behind, caressing and kneading the tender flesh until she moaned with pleasure and leaned more heavily against the wall. Her right hand gripped the porcelain soap dish bolted to the tiles and her knuckles whitened with the effort to hold herself erect as he continued exploring her body.
“Lovely,” he murmured in a husky voice pitched just above the rush of the water. “So lovely.”
Her knees wobbled, and she stiffened, locking them into position. She absolutely refused to dissolve into a mass of sensation at his feet.
Then one of his soap-covered hands dipped between her legs, urging them to part for him. The soft, slick feel of his fingers on her thighs brought another gasp and a low, throaty moan from her. Laura pressed herself fully against the blue-and-white tiles, turned her face to one sid
e and closed her eyes.
“Let me touch you, Laura,” he whispered.
Instantly, she opened her thighs, widening her already precarious stance on the slippery tub floor. Her breath quickened. Her stomach tightened, and her mouth went dry. Holding on to the soap dish for dear life, she waited for the intimate caress she knew was coming.
Then he kissed the back of her neck.
Laura jolted as electricity sizzled along her nerve endings. His lips and tongue teased her nape before moving down, along her spine. Gooseflesh leaped up on her skin and raced across her body in his wake.
“Jeff,” she murmured, and tasted the sweetness of his name on her lips.
She felt him kneel behind her and wanted to protest, but the words wouldn’t come. His long, soapy, slick fingers rubbed and smoothed skin that had become so sensitive, she trembled at each touch.
One of his hands slipped between her thighs from behind, and she tensed, everything within her coiled tightly in anticipation. He dipped two fingers into her liquid heat, stroking and pressing against her internal muscles until her entire body was a quivering mass of sensation.
She groaned brokenly and spread her legs farther in a greedy attempt to feel more of him. The still rising steam held her in its foggy grasp, surrounding her with damp heat and blinding her to all but the mist and Jeff’s touch.
Then he kissed her bottom, raking his teeth across the tender flesh gently but firmly. Slowly, he stood up, rubbing the length of his body along hers. His thickened groin prodded at her, reminding her that there was more to come.
Laura’s breath caught in her chest. Her heart slammed against her ribs in a wild, unsteady beat. Her knees trembled. Her grip on the soap dish tightened even further.
When he had his front firmly pressed to her back, he pulled his hand free of her body, despite the slight whimpering noise that escaped her at his desertion.
But he didn’t move away. Instead, he slid his right hand around to the front of her, down over her abdomen and past the triangle of curls at the apex of her thighs.
Grateful and eager, Laura whispered, “Yes, Jeff. Oh, please, now.”
He bent his head to kiss her cheek, the corner of her mouth. She couldn’t move. Dared not inch away from the tiled wall that had become her only support now that her limbs were useless to her.
As his hand smoothed along her wet flesh to cup her hot, throbbing center, she shivered violently. His thumb brushed across a hardened nub of desire. He whispered to her, his words lost in the rush of water and the pounding of her heart. Her hips moved frantically as he pushed her relentlessly along a path she had thought never to wander again.
Her body bucking against his hands, she twisted this way and that, desperately seeking a release that seemed to hover just out of reach. Jeff moved even closer to her, aligning his body to hers.
Breathing labored, she gasped for air in the tiny, steam-filled enclosure. Helpless to do anything but ride the incredible wave of pleasure just peaking within her, Laura shouted his name as the first explosion took her over the edge.
Nine
His hands shaking, Jeff shut off the water, and stepped out of the tub. He turned and pulled Laura into his arms. She sagged against him, her body still trembling as she sighed his name. He didn’t bother to grab towels. He wanted her now. Wet and flushed from the steam. Silently, he headed for his bedroom.
He’d wanted to make love to her in the shower. Watching her as a climax tore through her had shaken him to his soul and pushed his control to its limits.
But he wouldn’t make another mistake with her. This time, he would show her the care he should have used their first time together.
Entering the dark bedroom, he walked directly to the bed and laid her down atop the fresh white sheets. She stretched languidly, opened her eyes and smiled up at him. Wet tendrils of her hair snaked out in a star-burst around her head. Her eyes were clouded with the fresh memories of her passion.
She whispered his name and lifted her arms toward him.
He gritted his teeth, yanked the bedside table drawer open and fumbled in its contents blindly. After a long moment, he found what he needed, picked up the foil packet, then slammed the drawer shut again.
His fingers, suddenly clumsy, tore at the wrapper.
“Jeff,” she said softly, and came up on one elbow, her free hand held out toward him. “Let me.”
He sucked in a gulp of air, incredibly aroused at just the thought of her hands on him. Deliberately, he steadied himself and handed her the packet.
Laura sat up and scooted closer to the edge of the bed. Jeff’s breath came in short, shallow puffs. He watched her pull the cream-colored latex free of its wrapping, then held his breath as she reached for him.
Her fingers closed around him tightly. Her thumb stroked the underside of his shaft, and he surged forward, into her grasp, just managing to muffle a groan aching in his throat.
“Laura,” he said tightly. “I’m walking a real fine edge here.”
She smiled, a knowing, completely feminine curving of her lips. Leaning into him, she kissed his belly, and jagged spears of heat sliced through him. He muttered a curse as more of his control fell away.
“Jump off that edge, Jeff,” she urged him softly.
He looked down at her and felt his heart stop. Her mouth just a breath away from his rigid arousal, she leaned in even closer. His teeth ground together. His hands curled into fists as if searching for something—anything—to grab hold of. The only possible way for him to maintain his too ragged sense of self-control would be for him to close his eyes.
Yet he couldn’t look away.
He watched her lips touch him. Felt the soft hush of her breath caress his hardened flesh.
A low rumble of need escaped him. Her damp hair against his thighs served as a dramatic contrast to the fire she had started elsewhere. A moment. Two. He luxuriated in her intimate touch and at the same time craved to be inside her. To be buried so deeply within her that they would never be truly apart again.
Suddenly, Jeff couldn’t stand it anymore. Reaching for her, he set his hands at either side of her head and tipped her face up to his. When their eyes met, he was humbled and rocked to his core by the raw emotion he read in her gaze.
Through tightly gritted teeth, he said, “Put the condom on me, Laura. I need to be inside you and I can’t wait much longer.”
“I need that, too, Jeff,” she told him, though her voice was thin and wavering. “More than I thought possible.”
“Hurry, Laura,” he urged. “Hurry.”
Her fingers stretched the latex and slowly, carefully, rolled the shield down over his length. Its tightness bit into his flesh, but any discomfort was wiped away by the knowledge that this was his only means of protecting her. Cherishing her.
She scooted back on the mattress, stretched out and parted her thighs. Then she reached for him, arms wide in welcome. He couldn’t wait another moment. The sweet torment bad already gone on too long. A wild need burned in him now with an energy that wouldn’t be denied.
He knelt between her thighs, slid his hands beneath her bottom and lifted her hips slightly for his entry. As he pushed himself into her warmth, he paused, reveling in the feel of her closing around him. Even shielded from her, he experienced the same overpowering sensation he had the first time.
It was like coming home.
With his next breath, he thrust deeply inside her, satisfaction rippling through his bloodstream. In seconds, an ancient rhythm claimed him and drove him on relentlessly.
Laura’s hands clutched at his shoulders and forearms. He felt her short fingernails digging into his flesh. He leaned over her, bending his head to claim first one rigid nipple and then the other. His tongue rolled across the tender flesh, drawing it deeply into his mouth. He suckled her, working her flesh with his lips and tongue until she writhed and twisted beneath him.
Her hands moved to his chest. He felt her fingertips brush across his flat nipple
s, and a bolt of lightning shot through him. He redoubled his efforts at her breasts, lavishing his attentions on them, each in turn.
“Please, Jeff,” she whispered. “It feels too good.” She shook her head against the sheets, her hair spread out and around her shoulders. “I can’t do this again. It’s too soon.”
“Again,” he muttered thickly. And again, he thought, lost in the sensations she brought him. Caught in the web of her scent, her taste.
Despite her protests, her hips rose and fell in tandem with his. He felt the change in her as another tearing climax approached. Her breathing sped up and she drew one ragged breath after another. She raked her fingernails down his chest, around his waist and then up his back.
He lifted his head and drove himself into her, pushing them both higher, faster than they had gone before.
Jeff looked down into her face and watched her features tighten as she strained to reach the goal that came closer with each of his powerful thrusts.
Her legs came up and wrapped around his hips. She pulled him deeper, closer. Her back arched, she tipped her head back into the mattress and cried out brokenly. He set his hands at either side of her head and bent over her, claiming her mouth as the pleasure took her, rocked her.
As her trembling eased, his own release rushed through him. He parted her lips with his tongue and took her breath for his as he shuddered in her arms.
He rolled to one side, keeping one arm around her and drawing her close. She snuggled into his warmth, using the last of her strength to lay one arm across his chest so she could feel the steady, thunderous beat of his heart.
Laura’s own heartbeat slowed, and the wild sizzle in her veins gradually dimmed to a low hum of satisfaction. She drew a deep breath and let it shudder out of her lungs. If she had had to run for her life at the moment, she would be in big trouble. Every muscle in her body was limp. Even her bones felt as if they had turned to mush.
Jeff’s fingertips dusted across her back. Laura smiled sadly, regretfully. His gentle touch twisted a silken cord of tenderness around her heart. She didn’t want to acknowledge it. Couldn’t bring herself to admit to any feelings beyond contentment. To do that would be to invite disaster.
The Non-Commissioned Baby Page 10
