by Andrea Kane
The world stood still.
Julia's breath caught, live currents vibrating through her. Blindly, she tugged Connor's mouth to hers, arching even closer and raising her knees to hug his hips. All that mattered was the throbbing inside her, the spiraling need Connor had to fill.
He moved against her—once, twice—then abruptly stopped, tearing his mouth away to stare down at her with eyes that glittered with passion. "Julia." He sounded hoarse, as if uttering that one word was more than he could muster. "Julia!"
Her eyes cracked open. She didn't know why he'd chosen this moment to talk, nor did she care. Her body was screaming its protest. "Don't," she managed. "Don't stop."
"I don't plan to." Connor pressed his forehead to hers. "Let's get out of here."
"What?" She was having trouble focusing.
"We're at a restaurant. By a lake. Remember?"
Suddenly, she did. She blinked, glancing around, trying to regain her bearings. They were outside, in public. And she'd completely lost her mind.
She had no desire to regain it.
"No one saw us," Connor murmured, interpreting her silence as embarrassment. "The restaurant's way behind those trees. We're alone." He swallowed hard, his body still rigid against hers. "Don't change your mind." It was part order, part plea. "For God's sake, don't."
Everything inside her was tight and trembling. Her limbs felt watery. She wondered if she could walk. Change her mind? Impossible. "I won't," she said unsteadily. "I can't."
Connor searched her face for one long, restless moment. He must have seen whatever he needed to convince him, because he loosened his grip just enough for her legs to slide down and her feet to touch the ground. Then he locked an arm around her waist, anchoring her against his side. "Let's go."
The drive home was a blur. Julia had no second thoughts. She had no thoughts at all, other than anticipation. Connor cut the drive time in half by going twenty miles over the speed limit and running two traffic lights. He swerved his Mercedes into the parking lot of her building and was out of the car almost before he cut the engine. Julia scrambled out of the passenger seat just as fast, her keys already in her hand.
It was the second time they'd tumbled into her apartment without turning on the light Only this time, Connor flipped the lock behind him, watching her with a hot, predatory look. "I know I said I'd wait till Saturday. I can't."
Julia's heart was slamming against her ribs. "Neither can I."
In one motion, Connor shrugged off his jacket, flung it aside, and went to her. "Where's the bedroom?" he asked in a heated voice.
She tipped her head toward the rear of the apartment. "Back there."
'Too far. I'm not sure I can last." He kissed her, a blatantly carnal kiss that reawakened all their earlier urgency, brought it screaming back to life.
"There's a couch in the living room," Julia managed, pointing to their left and shivering as Connor began unbuttoning her blouse. "That's a lot closer."
His lips burned a path from her collarbone to her throat. "Which is bigger, the couch or the bed?"
"The bed."
"Then I'll last." Connor was pulling her down the hall. "Barely."
Julia's blouse was gone by the time they reached the bedroom, and Connor's tie and shirt were half off. He got rid of them in a few quick tugs, his hot stare devouring Julia as she stood there in her slacks and bra. His gaze darkened as she reached around, unhooked the lacy bra, and let it drift to the floor. He stepped closer, his palms gliding down her shoulders, shifting around to cup her breasts.
"You make me crazy," he muttered, absorbing her tiny quivers of pleasure. He pressed his lips to the side of her neck, his thumbs grazing her nipples, feeling them harden beneath his touch. She arched, the inadvertent action forcing her breasts against him, her nipples skimming the hair-roughened surface of his chest.
They both froze.
"God." Connor sucked in his breath, locking an arm around her to bring her closer. "Maybe you were right." He rubbed his torso against hers, shuddering at the resulting pleasure. "Maybe we should be scared to death."
"Ummm," Julia murmured, lost in sensation. She mimicked Connor's motion, only very slowly, dragging her breasts across his chest in a way that accentuated each shimmering nuance. "Maybe we should."
Something inside Connor seemed to snap. A hard shudder racked his body, and he gripped her arms, forcibly shoving himself away. "You've got thirty seconds to get into that bed."
"I only need twenty." Julia tugged at the button of her slacks. She had no idea who this woman was, but she knew what she wanted. And if she didn't have it, she'd die.
Connor was naked first, and he toppled Julia to the bed, hooking his fingers inside her panties and shimmying them down her legs and off. "Finally," he rasped, already nudging her thighs apart. He moved, covering her body with his. "Julia, this isn't going to be slow. Not this time. I've got to get inside you."
Julia nodded, feeling as frantic as he. She didn't want slow. She wanted Connor. Her breath caught in her throat as his hand glided up the inside of her thigh, his fingers opening her, slipping inside, exploring her wetness, and making her cry out. She was still reeling from the impact when he spread her legs wider and settled himself between them.
His penis probed at the entrance to her body, then pushed inside. She was more than ready for him, and he glided slowly forward, stretching and filling her. Julia acted on pure instinct, arching to take him deeper, lifting her legs to cradle his hips. She gave a choked, aroused cry, her head tossing from side to side as she tried to hurry his motions.
"You're tight," he said thickly, tremors of restraint rippling through his biceps. "I don't... want to hurt you."
"I don't care." Julia's hands balled into fists at the base of his spine. "Connor, please." She undulated against him.
It worked.
His hands went under her, angling her to receive him, and he thrust all the way in. She felt him tense, felt her own body give, but none of that mattered. All that mattered was putting out the fire.
Connor murmured something unintelligible, his tone harsh, guttural, as he fought to slow himself. But he couldn't, and Julia refused to let him. She writhed beneath him, and his resistance shattered. He began moving, hard and fast, his fingers biting into her skin as he anchored her to take more and more of him.
The pleasure ignited, burst into flames, and Julia met him, thrust for thrust, her body finding his rhythm and matching it. There was a clawing ache inside her that intensified with each thrust, coiled tighter and tighter until she thought she'd die.
Connor must have sensed her urgency—and shared it—because he grabbed the headboard, hoisted himself up higher, and drove deep, penetrating her completely and rubbing against a spot so exquisitely sensitive that she moaned. He withdrew and did it again, and Julia heard herself cry out, her body arching like a bowstring as it struggled for release. She couldn't bear this, not anymore. Neither could Connor, if his ragged breathing and frenzied motions were any indication.
He thrust into her again, and, abruptly, she shattered, all her nerve endings splintering into fragments as her body unraveled, pulsed around Connor's rigid penis. He gave a hoarse shout, burying himself in her climax, pushing deep, and holding himself there as her contractions milked him, hurled him over the edge.
He came violently, his body jerking under the impact as he jetted into her in powerful spasms of completion. He crushed their lower bodies together, totally lost in sheer physical sensation. His hips were still moving when he collapsed on top of her, tiny aftershocks of his orgasm—and hers—rippling through them.
Julia sank into the bed, her limbs quivering with reaction. Her mind was blissfully numb, her body sated, and she could easily have stayed like that for ages.
Connor had other ideas. Julia was still floating when he propped himself on his elbows and gazed down at her. "Are you okay?" When she didn't answer, he caressed her cheek, his touch gentle. "Julia, look at me."
&n
bsp; She forced her lids up.
He looked sweaty and exhausted, as if he'd run a marathon. But his expression was intent, and his brows were knit in concern. "Are you okay?"
"Fine," she managed in a thin voice.
Sucking in his breath, Connor gathered his strength and lifted himself away from her. Cool air brushed Julia's overheated skin, and she shivered, groping for the blanket.
Connor found it for her, yanking it up, then pausing a moment before he pulled it over them. His gaze raked her, his features set in harsh lines, illuminated by moonlight. "You're so damned beautiful," he muttered with husky male satisfaction. "You deserve to be lingered over for hours. Next time ..."
His own words brought back to mind his original concern, and he frowned, draping the blanket around them, then propping himself on one elbow, leaning over her to watch her face. "Why didn't you tell me?"
She smiled faintly, not even pretending to misunderstand what he was asking. "Because it wouldn't have changed anything."
"It damned well would have. I would have taken more time.. ."
"In that case, I'm glad I didn't tell you. I was as frantic as you were. Any more time, and I would have died."
He was still frowning. "I hurt you."
"No, you didn't," she replied with utter candor. "You were amazing."
His expression softened, an intimate light glinting in his eyes. "So were you." He brushed damp strands of hair off her cheek. "Care to tell me why?"
"Why I was amazing or why I was a virgin?"
A corner of his mouth lifted. "The first part's innate. I was asking about the second. Is it more of your idealism or something else?'
She shrugged, feeling somehow more exposed, more vulnerable, than when their bodies had been joined. Having this conversation when they were strolling around a lake was one thing. Having it when they were lying together naked, having just made love, was entirely another. "A little of both. To begin with, my virginity never was an issue before tonight."
He stared at her as if she'd lost her mind. "Julia, you're a knockout. No, it's more than that. You've got a natural, unaffected kind of beauty that I've never seen any other woman pull off. It makes me hard just watching you cheer at a Little League game. What the hell do you mean, your virginity never was an issue—are the guys you know all eunuchs?"
Despite the significance of what she was about to get into with him, she had to laugh. "Thank you—I think. As for the guys I know, no, they're not eunuchs. It wasn't them, it was me. I was a late bloomer. I told you, I was a skinny, plain kid. I grew into a skinny, plain teenager, far from a knockout. I also told you I was a tomboy. I lived for my pitching and my schoolwork. Except summers, when I was a camp counselor. I loved working with kids. I can't remember a time when I didn't want to teach. In college, I zeroed in on child psych and elementary ed. My studying became even more focused and intensive. Then came graduate school, and, well, you know the rest." She interlaced her fingers on the blanket, stared down at them. "On top of that, I was always kind of a private person."
"You're telling me you didn't have much of a social life."
"Right. I was on the varsity softball team, and I could have hung out with that crowd—if I'd wanted to. But I didn't really fit in. I was too shy and too much of a bookworm." A wry grin. "I'm sure my going to Vassar didn't give my social life much of a boost. Not with my dad a professor there."
Connor inclined his head quizzically. "Is your father really menacing, or is he just the protective type?"
"Menacing?" Julia chuckled. "Not even close. As for protective, yes, I guess he is—except when he's teaching a class. Then he wouldn't know if I was abducted by aliens right in front of him. He's lost in his work. Either way, he's not the violent type. So he didn't scare guys off with a shotgun. They balked on their own."
"Why?"
"Academic prudence. To begin with, I knew a lot of the professors on campus since I was a kid. That made anyone I hung out with feel like they were living in a fishbowl. Then there was the conflict of interests when it came to the waiting list."
"You lost me."
"I'll explain." Julia found herself wishing the rest of this discussion would be as uncomplicated as this part. "My dad's an animated guy who breathes life into his teaching. Every semester, there's a run on his philosophy and lit courses and a waiting list to get in. Most of the guys figured that hitting on Professor Talbot's only daughter didn't seem like the best way to get into his good graces." Again, she shrugged. "It didn't matter. I never thought of the outcome as a sacrifice. Like I said, I was a quiet little bookworm, not exactly hot dating material."
Connor was watching her with probing intensity. "You're leaving something out," he stated flatly. "Something that's at the heart of all this and that's responsible for your being so determined to cling to your idealism. What is it?"
Julia started. Connor had told her he was good at reading people, but she hadn't expected him to be quite this perceptive.
"I'm impressed," she said, striving for a light tone. "You're pretty astute for someone without training."
"Julia." He wasn't about to be deterred. "You said there were some ways in which you weren't sheltered. Like what?"
She was beginning to see how he'd made his millions. He had a gut feel for spotting red flags, sifting through them, and coming up with bottom-line approaches. And he knew just what to look for to yield the most profitable results.
Maybe venture capitalists and early-childhood educators had a lot more in common than she realized.
Regardless, this was going to be the hard part for her to get into. Not that the story was a secret. Most of it was a matter of public record. It was just that it was something she rarely talked about, and, when she did, it was only to her mother. Meredith Talbot understood better than anyone. She'd been right in the thick of things—first as a confidant, then as a nurse—no, more than a nurse, a proverbial Florence Nightingale who'd seen the signs and taken the necessary steps to end the crisis and start the healing.
"Julia?" Connor prompted. 'Tell me what you're thinking."
She twisted around so she could meet his gaze. "I'm thinking about how to answer your question."
"As frankly as you've answered all the others."
She nodded, determined to relay the details while keeping a firm lid on her emotions. "I had a best friend when I was a kid. Franny. She was a sweet, gentle little girl. When I wasn't tossing a baseball around, she and I were inseparable. Near the end of third grade, she started acting different—moody and withdrawn. My mom noticed it even before I did. Or maybe I noticed but didn't understand enough to give it a name. I don't know. Either way, the symptoms got worse. She became sullen, jumpy, even angry."
Connor's features had hardened, and his expression told Julia he sensed what was coming.
She told him anyway. 'To make a long story short, it turned out that Franny's stepfather was abusing her. And not just emotionally. He threatened her with all kinds of horrible things. Sometimes he hit her. And near the end . . ." Julia swallowed, feeling sickened by what she was about to say. "Near the end, his attacks became sexual. He threatened to kill her if she dared say a word to anyone. Not that she had anyone to turn to. Her mother was in some kind of self-protective denial. Her real father was in Europe with his twenty-year-old secretary. Franny was terrified, and she was alone."
Julia faltered for a moment, thinking that the reality was even more horrible to her now, as an adult, when she could fully comprehend the enormity of what her friend must have endured. "Thank God for my mom. She recognized the signs from her days as a pediatric nurse. She got Franny to open up to her. Then she contacted child services. There was a hearing, a divorce, and lots of counseling. Franny's stepfather ended up in jail, and Franny ended up staying with her mother. But she was never the same. She took off when she was in her teens, severed all ties with home. I don't blame her."
"Christ." Connor looked physically ill. "I can't even imagine ..." He drew a sl
ow breath, studying Julia with new understanding. "That explains a lot about you."
"I'm sure it does." Julia sighed. "Like why I'm so attuned to my students. Like why I want to preserve whatever idealism I can. Like why my principles matter so much to me. I've seen life's ugliness, Connor. It's not always fair about who it strikes. So whatever beauty is out there, we've got to grab it. And whatever dreams are within our control, we've got to hold tight to them and not compromise unless we absolutely must."
"With regard to things like relationships."
"Yes, with regard to things like relationships." Julia couldn't tell what Connor was thinking. Obviously, he was getting her point. How he would react to that point was another matter entirely.
"Did your friend's experience scare you off men?" he asked.
"Sexually, you mean? No." Julia shook her head. "I didn't even realize the full extent of what had happened to Franny until I was old enough to deal with it. Besides, I had a great role model at home. My dad's a devoted husband and father. So, no, I never lumped all men together with Franny's stepfather. He was vile and sick. But he's one person. This isn't about my being afraid of men."
"It's about not selling yourself short," Connor supplied. "You want to have a full-blown relationship rather than just sex. You want to trust and like the person you're sleeping with. And you want to have a meeting of the minds and the emotions, as well as the bodies."
"Corny as it sounds, yes." Julia searched his face. He didn't seem to be mocking her. Still, she wished they'd had this conversation earlier—when they hadn't yet slept together and the idealistic principles she was spouting would still have sounded believable. "Like I said, there are very few things left to dream about. Making love with a man I cared about was one of those dreams for me. I didn't want to compromise, experience just the sex and not the emotions. It might sound ridiculous, especially since I just fell into bed with you after two dates, but it's the truth. I didn't plan on the profound attraction between us. I thought it would be minds and hearts first, passion second. I guess I was a fool."
