by Kit Ehrman
Chapter 16
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. My jeans were on the floor halfway across the room, and the gray cat had curled into a ball on top of them. When I grabbed a pant leg, the cat dug her claws into the denim. I dragged her across the carpet until she gave it up and abandoned ship. When I straightened, I saw that Rachel was laughing.
"Ha, ha," I mouthed.
I zipped up my jeans, didn't bother with the snap, and opened the door.
Rachel was wearing a form-fitting T-shirt and along with skin-tight riding breeches and boots. Very sexy. She'd pulled her silky dark hair into a loose pony tail. Wisps of hair had worked free and hung along the side of her face and down the back of her neck. She stepped inside, and I reached behind her and clicked the door shut.
A thin breeze drifted through the open window and stirred the dust that hung in the air. Her perfume smelled faintly of vanilla.
Rachel reached out and touched my skin. I looked down at her hand. Her fingertips brushed across my waist, close to the snap on my jeans.
"Marty told me you'd pulled an all-nighter." Her gaze rose slowly to my face. She was concerned . . . and something else.
I nodded.
She stood very still, and she was breathing through her mouth.
I took her hand in mine and embraced her, then leaned into the counter and pulled her against me. Rachel wrapped her arms around my waist, and the feel of her hands on my bare skin was electrifying. I traced my fingertips along her jaw and kissed her mouth. Her lips were cool and tasted of cinnamon. I smoothed my hand down the front of her shirt and tugged it out of her pants. When I ran my hand across the small of her back, she twisted her fingers in my hair and kissed me hard on the mouth.
The loft seemed unnaturally quiet and still, the air around us charged.
I turned her around until her buttocks were pressed against my thighs. Flattening my hands on her belly, I slid my fingers under her shirt, lifted it out of the way, and cupped my hands over her breasts. She arched her back, and every time she shifted, her ass brushed against my crotch.
Rachel turned her head toward me, and her hot breath fanned across my cheek. Her breasts rose with each inhalation, her nipples erect under the thin fabric of her bra. I rubbed against her, and after a moment, I slipped my fingers under the elastic.
She gripped my hand, then stepped away from me. She flicked down her shirt and turned to face me.
"I can't." She crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm sorry, Steve. I'm not ready."
"You don't have to be." My voice sounded hoarse. "I'll get dressed."
I walked into the bathroom, braced my hands on the sink, and hung my head. She'd been sending out subtle messages all along that she needed to go slow, and I'd blown it. I sucked in a lungful of air. After a minute or two, I splashed cold water on my face--it didn't help--finished dressing, and brushed my teeth.
When I went back into the kitchen, Rachel had made herself at home on one of the barstools. She looked composed and relaxed, and she'd tucked in her shirt.
I kissed her on the cheek and rested my hands on her knees. "I need to go back to Foxdale, I'm afraid."
"To feed the horses?"
I nodded.
"Marty's taking care of it."
"Wow," I mumbled.
"He couldn't get you on the phone--"
"It's off the hook."
"So I see." She brushed her bangs off her forehead. "Anyway, he wanted to tell you to stay home. They're going to do whatever they can tonight to get ready for the clinic and finish up in the morning. So I offered to drive over to tell you, but I see Marty was wrong." She glanced at my crotch and seemed surprised that her eyes had betrayed her. "You're not at all impaired from lack of sleep, are you?"
"Wide awake now that you're here."
She giggled. "So you don't mind my dropping in unannounced?"
I grinned. "Come anytime."
Rachel rolled her eyes. "Are you sure this wasn't an elaborate plot between the two of you to get me over here," she glanced around the loft, "in your apartment?"
I grinned. "No, we're not that clever."
Her eyes were so dark, they were almost black.
"Would you like something to eat?" I said.
She hesitated. "Dinner only."
"I promise."
"Who colicked?"
I told her about the pony while we ate grilled cheese sandwiches--the only thing I had left suitable for human consumption--and some stale pretzels. I didn't spend all that much time in the loft and rarely had company. The place would feel empty when she was gone, and I hoped her presence would become routine. But it wouldn't happen if I kept behaving like a sex-crazed lunatic.
I turned sideways on my stool and watched her. She took a bite of her sandwich and looked up at me. A smile shone in her eyes, and I couldn't help but wonder what her past experiences had been like. I swallowed some Coke and realized that I really didn't know all that much about her.