B. G. McCarthy - A Thief At Heart

by A Thief At Heart (lit)

  Then she imagined his hand washing that strong, gorgeous face, trailing down the column of his neck, over sculpted collar bones, over the vulnerable, pale skin at his nape, stirring his loose waves of black hair to curl a little, darkening the strands to ebony.

  She envisaged a strong weather-rough hand, followed by her paler, slimmer one, gliding over his torso, his washboard belly, flawless ridges of muscle over his flanks, over buttocks with deep gorgeous dips at the sides.

  She imagined her mouth and her tongue drifting over sleek, male flesh, then back up over that little line of hair that fanned up his midsection and up his chest.

  The sound of him cleaning the tub and the gurgle of the drain jolted her out of her reverie. The sink taps went on again a few seconds later. He must be brushing his teeth. The taps went off again with a rumble of the pipes.

  Riley closed her eyes and knew she wouldn’t sleep because her body was aching, trembling, thrumming. The room was cold, the large bed so empty.

  Imagination was a shocking, awesome thing.

  A tall, sexy male body that wanted her body was a terrible thing to waste. Riley rolled over on her side and groaned. She needed to take an over-the-counter sleeping pill or she’d be awake all night. She knew she had one in her cosmetic bag.

  The bag was still in the bathroom. She reached for the lantern and got out of her bed, opening the bathroom door slowly so as not to disturb him.

  She wasn’t expecting to see what she saw. She just stood there at the entrance to the bath and stared. Gaped. Drank him in.

  He’d left his side of the bathroom’s door wide open, dammit. He was standing in the middle of the guest room. It was nothing unusual or planned, nothing blatant about it.

  But Robert Butler was naked. Stark naked. Ready to climb into bed. His kerosene lamp painted him with a silvery-gilt glimmer, like one of the old master’s brushes might have done.

  Oh, God, he was beautiful.

  Rob looked up and saw her there in her doorway. Their eyes met. He just stood there. Proud. Male. Shoulders back, chest thrust out, arms ready at his sides; he had that kind of natural grace, that elemental primed-to-do-battle sort of posture that he didn’t even have to think consciously about sustaining. He was so relaxed. So at ease with himself, his body and the fine male specimen he was.

  Riley bit her lip as the ultimate male part of him rose to attention. Saying hello across the room.

  Frantic, she shut the door hard on the tableau and leaned her back against it, gulping air into starved lungs. Damp heat surged between her legs. She half expected him to come through the bath, knock and say he was sorry for upsetting her. But he didn’t. She waited a long time in the dark, sitting up in the cold bed, listening to the heavy rain lash the windows.

  And he did not come to her.

  ~ * ~

  Rob lay in bed for while, waited about ten minutes for her to come, and decided he really was losing his touch. Not that he’d planned what had happened after he took off his towel. He honestly hadn’t known she was there watching until he turned around.

  He closed his eyes and rolled the pillow under his neck. He was the type of person who could be asleep in five minutes. The talent didn’t fail him. He began a quick slide into unconsciousness.

  Rob didn’t expect her to wake him. He hadn’t been deeply asleep but he lurched up like a jack-in-the-box at the touch of her hand on his arm. They almost bumped heads.

  “Robert?”

  She was bending over him. He caught the scent of her skin and hair. Cinnamon and something sweet he couldn’t name. Maybe almonds.

  Yes, that.

  “I knew you’d come,” he said with a grin.

  “You knew I’d--” She gave a derisive snort. “Did you do that deliberately?” She was just this side of pissed.

  “Do what?”

  “Flash me?”

  “No. I just forgot to shut the door. I wasn’t displaying my wares.” He was a little bit offended by that. Like she thought he was waiting there like some strutting male peacock hoping to give her a show. “I thought you were settled. Why were you snooping around in the dark if you didn’t want an eyeful?”

  “I wasn’t snooping around. I just had to get something in the bathroom. I never expected to see... to see that... believe me.”

  “What do you want? To talk about that?”

  “What do I want? Oh...” She averted her eyes from his chest. “I just heard something. It was weird. It may have been one of those twilight sleep things: a waking dream. Something crashed through the woods. Close, but not that close.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Maybe it was an animal.”

  “There’s a ravine nearby. Maybe a tree got hit and broke off. Crashed down the gully.”

  “That could have been it.” She let out a sigh of relief. “I’m sure you’re right. I’m sorry that I disturbed you.” Her hand brushed his arm. She was freezing.

  “You didn’t disturb me. I can get back to sleep in a wink. You’re cold, Riley. Climb in here with me. I’ll bet your feet are like ice.”

  “I’ll just go back.”

  “This is a double bed. There’s plenty of room.”

  She considered it for a moment, then climbed into the bed, tugging the covers over her flannel pajamas. She drew up her knees and wrapped her arms around them. She was shivering.

  “Your pajamas are sexy.”

  “What are you? An idiot? They are not sexy.”

  “Ever wear just the tops?” he teased.

  “No.”

  “Just the bottoms?”

  “Rob, this isn’t going to--”

  “Don’t be silly. Want me to give your shoulders a rub?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “You really need to relax.”

  “I’m not going to have sex with you just so I can relax.”

  He smiled at her. “What? You think that’s what I’m thinking about?”

  “I know that men think that every five seconds. And I’m the nearest warm body.”

  “You’re way more than that. You’re having a hard time keeping your hands off me, aren’t you, Riley Jane. Admit it. I can tell.”

  Riley pressed her cheek to her knees, laughing softly. “Shut up. You’re so awful. You’re worse than Craig.”

  He laid his hands on her taut shoulders over the soft fabric. He heard her sharp intake of breath as his hand trailed over the tense muscles of her lower back. “Riley, I can help you relax and unwind. You’ll be asleep in no time.”

  She groaned softly, so ready to give in to him, so ready to enjoy what he had to give, it wasn’t funny. “Stop saying that stuff to me.”

  “What stuff.”

  “Innuendoes, Robbie. Relax,” she mimicked.

  “I like it when you call me that. What do you girls do at sleep-over parties when you can’t sleep?”

  She turned her head. “What on earth are you talking about?”

  “Do you play cards? Talk about movie stars? Paint your toenails? Got any nail polish? I’d love to paint your toenails.”

  “No. Are you insane? A sleep-over party?”

  “Might as well be. It doesn’t seem to be a make-out party.”

  Yet.

  “Okay... I’ll just go b--” Riley started to rise. This was insane! She was not about to let this go any further.

  He placed his hand over hers where it lay on the mattress. The quilt had slipped a little lower when he’d moved. She could see the angle of his hip.

  “Are you naked?” she asked cautiously.

  “‘fraid so,” he told her. “I sleep in the all-together.”

  She considered that for about a second. He rubbed her shoulders a little more. She heard herself make another deep, unbidden sigh that ended in a half-baked groan. He was right. She was still tense as hell.

  “I feel...”

  “Do you feel good? That’s what I want. I just want you to feel good. I want to make love to you, Riley Jane, but things with us are always better when you th
ink they’re your idea.”

  She wondered for a moment what precisely he meant by that choice of words, then supposed he was right. “You make it really hard for a woman to say no.”

  “Don’t say no.” He slipped an arm around her, his hand rubbing her arm. He ran his hand up her arm under the elbow-length sleeve.

  Her head tipped back a little. A rusty, little sound somewhere between a whimper and a gasp escaped her throat as he pressed his hot mouth to her shoulder, kissing her through the flannel.

  Rob fingered the tendrils of hair over her ear. She was trembling, waiting for what might happen next. He surprised her, his voice coming out a little husky. “The bed’s big,” he told her. “Go to sleep if you want to. It’ll be okay. I won’t force you into anything.”

  Riley lay there beside him for what seemed like a long time, neither one of them close to finding sleep. She had to will her fingers not to move down the mattress to touch him. He lay on his back, breathing hard; she imagined that she could see his sex straining adamantly against the fabric of the sheets and the quilt.

  Riley felt as if she could burn into a cinder just being in his bed.

  She wanted him. She wanted him like she wanted to breathe. She rolled over on her side facing him and moved her arm, laying her hand over the quilt, letting it rest on his flat stomach, telling herself she was a fool if she did and a fool if she didn’t.

  “God... Don’t... If you touch me and I...”

  “I can’t fight this anymore, Robbie.”

  His profile was painted by the light of the lantern she’d brought into the room and left burning. “What if I suddenly wasn’t in the mood?” he joked.

  “I’d have thought otherwise.”

  Rob took the hand that was resting rather innocently now across his stomach, threading his fingers through hers. He studied her, just looked into Riley’s eyes for a long, long time, thinking he might see some trace of uneasiness or indecision. There was nothing he could see, just that usual steady resolve.

  It totally thrilled him.

  “Do you have condoms?” he asked.

  “I think there are a few in my case. They might be expired.”

  He wondered about that for a minute, wondered about the last man she’d been with, then rejected the thought. He was glad she was prepared. His heart was doing cartwheels across his chest. She slipped her long fingers out of his hand and went off to the bathroom.

  He rested his back against the headboard and waited. Seconds seemed like forever. She returned, slipping a small bundle under her pillow. He lifted his hand and she placed hers into it as she climbed into the bed. She was still icy cold, obviously nervous. He’d see what he could do the warm her up.

  Rob stared at her face in the half-light. He wanted to tell her how gorgeous she was, but he was afraid anything he said would sound trite. Instead he leaned over and found her mouth, kissing her with deliberate slowness until she sagged against him.

  He loved kissing her. She tasted of toothpaste and warm, slightly ambivalent woman. Her soft, full breasts pressed against his chest. She returned the kiss, her tongue soft, sweet and tentative against his.

  He felt her fingers trail across his belly over the quilt. Her wrist brushed against his rock-hard erection. He closed his eyes as white-hot desire knifed through him.

  Unable to take much more of slow and restrained, Rob pulled her up over him so that she was seated on his lap in her flannel pajamas. She made a helpless little sound, wrapping her arms lightly around his shoulders. He nuzzled her neck, toyed with her earlobe, tasted her smooth, lantern-lit skin. She was wearing a tiny hoop in her ear and he pulled gently at it with his teeth.

  Riley smelled so sweet and lush. She lowered her face to his, her lips brushing against his hair, along his temple. He reached up, cupping her face in his hand, trailing his hand lower, down her long, slim neck, to the opening of the pajamas. He flicked the buttons open one by one.

  Rob parted the top slightly, so that he could look at her. She was breathtaking in the half-light. He felt her sharp intake of breath as he bared her chest a little more, slid the panels of shirt apart slightly to frame her breasts. They were firm: fuller, rounder than he recalled, the cleavage deeper, the nipples a delicate pink. He wanted to taste them so badly he felt like he’d die of it.

  He closed his eyes. There hadn’t been anyone else in a while. And if Robbie Butler had his way, if he got what he wanted--and he knew what he wanted--Riley was the last woman to whom he was ever going to make love.

  Thank God he had yanked the blanket over himself to put a barrier between them; he was far too aroused to take it slow otherwise.

  He reached up and took her face in his hands again, his fingers threading in her slightly damp hair, drawing her down so their mouths met. He wanted to tease her a little, make it build, but the moment their lips met a jolt of pure joyous heat went through him, making him feel as if he’d found home at last.

  Riley moved her hips against him and Robbie almost went wild, igniting as the smooth sheet and her weight brushed against his straining flesh. He wanted her so much, wanted her tongue in his mouth, wanted to taste her, wanted himself deep, deep inside her. He wished he’d shaved closer because her fair skin was going to look like hell in the morning from his heavy beard. He planned to love her all night.

  He tore his mouth away, licking her taste from his lips, pressing his forehead to hers, getting his breath and his bearings, fumbling for the tie of her pants. It was tight and he had big, clumsy fingers at that moment.

  While he bared her belly to his gaze, she ran her hands over his bare shoulders, down his chest. Her face was flushed, her chest stained rosy from lust. He knew from the way she held herself, the way her hands fluttered up, she was still a bit uncertain.

  He stared with breathless admiration at her. “God, your gals are so pretty,” he said. His voice broke like a prepubescent kid’s. He knew it sounded silly, but he didn’t care. She laughed, so that was good.

  He cupped the jiggling, soft mounds in his hands, weighing them. She was as aroused as he, her nipples hard and pointed. He moved his hands over velvet-soft skin, teasing the small, pale peaks with his thumbs, the edge of his fingernails. They darkened, puckered further, hard as diamonds, far more precious a gift to him. Riley’s head tilted back in pleasure.

  She was so sexy, so ripe, he thought, and so perfect. Robbie buried his face in her sweetness, lifting her breasts to his mouth, suckling them, then laved her ribs, tasting her flat tummy until she arched her back and groaned, his hands firmly supporting her hips as she rode his thigh. He felt her tremble against him, felt the rush of heat of her body against his over-sensitized skin.

  “You’re killing me,” Riley said, laughing. “Oh, I knew you’d be too good at this.”

  “You make me feel like a new man,” he said, bringing her to a kneeling position, lifting her to her knees between his legs, just holding her lush body tightly against his. She lowered her mouth and pressed her lips to the top of his head, cradling his face in her hands, weaving her fingers through his hair.

  She lowered her face to his again and he kissed her full, mint flavoured lips until they were both breathless and shaking with desire; he kissed her with what he hoped was such skill, that had she been wearing socks, he’d have knocked them clean off.

  “Lady, you still have on far too many clothes.”

  He slid the top down her arms and tossed it away. He eased her over to her back, tossing the sheet away from his hips. She lay back against the pillows watching him, her honeyed hair mussed in loose curls, her lashes crescents on her cheekbones, half shuttering her lovely darkened green eyes. She reached for him, running her fingers down his arms, his chest.

  Her body was beautiful: so lush, so pale and creamy in hue, so smooth in texture compared to his. He slid the pants off her hips revealing the long, slim legs he remembered so well.

  How many times had he dreamed of her? She was perfect for him. Light where he was dar
k. Soft where he was hard. Curved where he angled. He knew they fit each other like a dovetail joint. Like they were made to be partnered.

  Robbie wanted Riley to take him into her: body, heart, life. Take everything he had to give her: his life, his worldly possessions, his children. Everything he would ever have or ever be. He wanted her with him. It was something he known since he’d spotted her on Aggie’s doorstep. He couldn’t tell her in words yet, had never had been able to do that, but he could tell her this way.

  I love you, Riley. I fell in love with you that night.

  He covered her breast possessively with his hand. He’d never touched anything so soft, yet her nipples were so taut. He imagined them aching for his mouth, his mouth alone. Looking at his large, dark hand splayed over her breast aroused him more than he could ever remember being aroused. He felt mighty, so hard. He pressed urgently against her thigh, kissing the side of her face, nuzzling against the warm hollow of her neck with his chin, his jaw rasping against her skin.

  He kissed her again slowly, his tongue deep in her mouth, then trailed his open mouth down to her shoulders, dragging his lips slowly down her rib cage, to her belly, until she arched her body up against his. “Oh, God... you’re not--”

  “Yes, I am. Relax.”

  Her laughter became a soft drawn-out sigh and she let him do what he wanted, had to do.

  He nuzzled her tummy with his cheek, smelling the soap on her skin, the warm rich scent of her femininity. He kissed the soft skin on the insides of her thighs. He tasted her body, spicy-slick and warm and she jerked at his advance.

  She was so ready for him, her response so honest, so heartfelt. He wanted to forget about everything else but plunging himself into her dusky softness. He wanted to lose himself in greedy release, lose himself in her. He’d waited so long.

  Riley arched against him, making a little moaning sound of pleasure as he sipped her, sucked the sweetness of that tiny rise of womanly flesh. She began to quiver, enticing little cries escaping her lips, her muscles tightening in response. He didn’t pull away then and enter her as he longed to do.