Out of Her League

by Kaylea Cross

  She opened her mouth to argue but he leaned down and kissed her. She pushed at his heavy shoulders, wrenched her head away. “Don’t you dare try to distract me—”

  “Shhh. It wasn’t him, I swear.” He cupped her face in his hand. “I wouldn’t lie to you, babe.”

  Wouldn’t he? Not even to protect her? She searched his green-gold eyes for any flicker of guilt. Seeing none, she didn’t object when he settled his mouth over hers. As he kissed her the fear ebbed.

  He pulled back, gave her a lighthearted smile. “Want to continue the tour?”

  She narrowed her eyes, her heart taking its time returning to a normal rhythm. “If I say no are you gonna keep trying to distract me?”

  “Yep.”

  She laughed, wanting to salvage the rest of the day. “That just makes me want to say no, but go ahead and lead on, then.”

  He took her up King Street, past the fancy antique shops and boutiques. The layers of history overlapped everywhere, pavement meeting cobblestones, plaster and concrete concealing damage by artillery fire over a hundred and forty years ago. In the cemeteries marble headstones crumbled and tilted like rows of crooked teeth, their inscriptions barely legible.

  “I’m so jealous that you grew up in a place like this.” Vancouver’s setting might be mind-blowing, but it seemed uninteresting compared to Charleston.

  “I still get homesick so I try to come back at least once a year.”

  She loved that he appreciated his hometown and enjoyed seeing his mother. Not everyone was lucky enough to have such a solid relationship with a parent.

  “You hungry yet?”

  She’d lost track of time. “I could eat.”

  “There’s a great place up here that serves Low Country food.”

  That translated loosely to ‘food cooked in grease’ but she fell in love with the fried green tomatoes and okra, buttermilk fried chicken and biscuits with gravy, she-crab soup and fried catfish, followed by cornbread and cake made from Coca-Cola for dessert. He ordered a bottle of red wine and filled her glass three times.

  “A fancy dinner and alcohol. You’re not planning on seducing me, are you?” She raised an eyebrow at him, enjoying the buzz from the wine and the flirtation she hadn’t engaged in since she couldn’t remember when.

  With a slow smile he set down his glass and reached across the table, gliding his thumb over her lower lip before raising his gaze to hers. “Would you like me to?”

  Her toes curled a split second before her abdomen fluttered. She couldn’t look away from him. His hazel eyes glowed with a sensual promise that made her mouth go dry. She knew he’d do things that would make her lose her mind.

  The man was lethal. Teasingly, she smacked his good shoulder. “I am not having sex with you in your mother’s house.”

  “That wasn’t what I meant, but since you brought it up...” A gleam entered his eyes. “You sure about that?”

  “And what are you going to do? Climb up the side of the house like a one-armed Spiderman and leap through my window so she doesn’t hear you going into my room?”

  “Sweetheart, you’d be surprised what lengths I’d go to for you.” His eyes smoldered like banked coals.

  The hunger washed through her, making her body throb. She’d never felt anything like it and thought she’d die if she couldn’t hold him deep inside her within the next five minutes. Her breath caught, her body aching to feel him inside her. “Rayne—”

  He dropped his cutlery with a clatter, flagged down their waiter. “Check please.”

  But instead of sweeping her off to some dark corner to start the seduction, he took her back to Battery Park. By then the buzz of arousal had worn off, leaving her wondering if she’d imagined the blaze of desire in his eyes.

  In the center of the park they sat in the white gazebo as twilight settled with its hush of purple mystery. Scented with roses and honeysuckle, the night air caressed her skin, the stars twinkling to life with the promise of a full moon in the blue velvet sky. He was awfully quiet and she suspected he’d overdone it today. His arm was probably driving him nuts but he was too macho to say so.

  He slid his right hand under her hair, kneading the muscles there because it made her purr. “I love you,” he said, watching her in the half-light.

  At the intensity behind the words she met his gaze. “I love you too,” she told him with all her heart, resting her head on his shoulder. She closed her eyes, savoring the peace of the evening and the warmth of his fingers on her neck. Lowering her guard like this in public should have made her feel vulnerable, but he would always watch out for her, keep her safe from any threat.

  When she opened her eyes his posture was tense, his gaze moving over her face as if he was memorizing her.

  “Your arm’s bothering you, isn’t it?” She made a tsking sound at the sight of his swollen left hand, where the bruising had spread all the way down from the shoulder.

  Rayne kissed her instead of answering, sliding his right hand to the back of her head. When he pulled away a minute later he rose from the bench and tried to take off his sling, fiddling with the strap, so she helped him undo the buckle, accidentally banging his injured arm. He froze, hissing a breath through his teeth.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

  He forced a stiff smile. “It’s okay, I’m fine.” He finally got the stupid thing off and took a deep breath. He stood there, opened his mouth to say something, closed it again, and she wondered what the hell was going on.

  Then he sank to one knee.

  “Oh, God,” she whispered, one hand flying up to her mouth.

  His head jerked up. “What? I dropped the padding from the sling,” he explained, holding it up for her inspection.

  “Oh. Yeah.” God, what a moron she was. Here she’d thought he was going to propose. Her throat tightened until it nearly strangled her. Way to go, Bailey, freak the guy out why don’t you?

  When she risked peeking at him through her lashes, he was grinning at her.

  “Well, there was something I wanted to ask you.”

  She swallowed the lump. “Okay.”

  “I wanted to know how you felt about us living together.”

  She frowned. “We kind of are living together already.”

  He shook his head. “I meant after this is all over, that maybe one of us should move in with the other.” His fingers caressed the sensitive spot beneath her hairline at the base of her skull. “All I know is, I want to go to bed with you every night and wake up beside you every morning.”

  Her heart squeezed. Cameron’s infidelity had taught her a painful lesson, but she wanted Rayne, felt safe with him, loved him so much it hurt. Despite the attack, she was dying to make love with him completely, to give him all of herself. She could either live holding back in fear of rejection, or reach out and grab her chance at happiness with both hands.

  He must have taken her silence as reluctance. “I can move into your place if you want, put mine up for sale.”

  “You’d sell your luxury condo with the million-dollar view?”

  “If it meant living with you? In a heartbeat.”

  Joy swelled, swift and painful. “You’re sure?”

  He lifted a brow. “What do I have to say to convince you?”

  She rubbed her suddenly damp palms on her jeans. “It’s just...if things worked out between us, I’d want...I’d want to get married and have a family someday.” Was that clear enough? She couldn’t take the next step in this relationship if she had no hope of those things.

  “I know.” He twined his fingers around hers. “A lot’s happened in the past couple weeks and I don’t want to rush you, so if you’re not ready for this I’ll understand. I just think it’d be smart to move in together for starters and see where things go. Take it one day at a time.”

  The pit of her stomach fluttered. He was saying all the things she wanted to hear, yet...

  “I’d never do anything to hurt you, darlin’.”

  She put h
er hand on his cheek, smiled when he kissed her palm. “I know.”

  “So? You gonna put me out of my misery or what?”

  She laughed, her heart lighter than it had been in years, the leap of elation almost frightening in its intensity. She had never been more certain about anything. “I think we should go for it.”

  His answering grin all but stopped her heart. “I’ll do everything I can to take care of you, make you happy.” He sealed the pledge with a knee-melting kiss and nuzzled her neck, sending shivers of delight down her spine. “So,” he murmured against her neck, “now that we’re officially moving in together, you sure you don’t want to have sex with me in my mother’s house?”

  ****

  A thump came from outside her window. Christa’s eyes flew open, her heart pounding as she lay staring at the sheers billowing in the night breeze. A scrape, then something sliding.

  All she had to do was scream and Rayne would be there before she could draw another breath.

  A muffled curse drifted in, followed by a masculine groan. Throwing back the covers, she caught sight of Rayne’s silhouette in the moonlight.

  “What the hell are you doing?” She slid the sash open.

  He was hanging onto the windowsill with a one-handed death grip, glowering up at her with bits of leaves from the climbing rose stuck in his hair. “Well, don’t help me or anything,” he muttered, and she came out of her stupor to grab him. He shuffled up and threw a leg over the windowsill, rubbing his sore arm. “I just crawled up the side of the house like Spiderman,” he panted as he struggled to fit his body through the frame. “Didn’t think I’d do it, did you?”

  She smothered a laugh. “You could have really hurt yourself. More than you already have, I mean. You’re crazy.”

  “Yeah. Crazy about you.” He came toward her, eyes full of sensual promise. “I want to make love to the woman I’m going to be living with,” he whispered, then kissed her until she was clinging to him for balance. He lifted his head and the breath backed up in her lungs and the pure hunger she read in his face. “I want to lay you down on that antique bed and love you until you’re too weak to move,” he murmured against the sensitive hollow under her ear. “Only thing is, you need to be real quiet. I wouldn’t want my mom to know I was in here having my wicked way with you.” He nuzzled her throat. “Mmm, you smell like oranges.”

  “My bubble bath.” Was that breathy voice hers? She was already trembling under his touch. He slid the satin nightgown off her shoulders to pool at her feet, leaving her naked. Automatically her arms came up to cover herself.

  “Don’t hide. You’re beautiful.” He raised each hand to his lips, pressed a kiss to each palm, nibbling his way up her wrists to the sensitive insides of her elbows. “Come lie down with me.” He stripped off his shirt, trying to hide a grimace as the motion pulled at his ribs and shoulder, then led her to the bed.

  Heart racing, she climbed onto the four-poster with him, absorbing the shock of his weight as he landed on top of her. Wrapping her arms around him, her whole body sighed at the feel of him, so hot and heavy and hard atop her. She lifted her head to kiss him, the glide of his tongue against hers making her gasp. Her skin burned as though she had a fever. Need pulsed deep in her belly, between her thighs. “Hurry,” she urged, tugging at his jeans.

  He shucked them off as fast as his injured arm would allow and resumed kissing her, licking urgently into her mouth and taking her breath away. She moaned while his lips traced a burning path down her throat, pausing to tease the fragile skin over her pulse point, his fingers brushing the curve of her breasts.

  When he bent his head and swirled his tongue over her nipple, the pleasure was almost painful. “Rayne...” Her fingers locked in his hair, to hold him close or push him away, she wasn’t sure which. She withstood the exquisite torture as long as she could, then reached down to take his hard erection in her hand, making him shudder. “Come inside me now.”

  “Uh-uh.”

  “Yes,” she insisted, pulling his shoulders upward as his mouth moved down to her stomach. She couldn’t take much more, part of her wanting this first time to be fast in case she freaked out on him. He kissed the inside of her hipbone, slid lower, and with a flare of panic she grabbed his head to stop its descent. “Don’t,” she whispered, quaking inside. No way could she stay quiet if he did what she thought he was going to do.

  He tightened his hands on her hips and nuzzled her abdomen, her muscles contracting under his cheek. “Your skin’s so soft,” he murmured. “Let me do this, Chris. I’ve fantasized about it for forever.”

  He had?

  He stroked his fingers through the wetness between her legs, making her suck in a breath. “Have you ever fantasized about me going down on you?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Then let me.”

  “But I—”

  “I won’t disappoint you, promise,” he coaxed, untangling her fingers from his hair and edging lower.

  But what if she disappointed him? She shook her head, almost beyond speech with frustration and nerves. “I just want you inside me.”

  “Later,” he promised. “When you’re more relaxed.” His tongue dipped into her navel, making her lower body clench.

  More relaxed? Not likely.

  Rigid with tension, dreading that first touch of his lips as much as she yearned for it, she jerked against his mouth and dragged a pillow over her face to stifle a moan as sensation careened inside her. He crooned reassurance, comforting her with slow sweeps of his hand even as he made her mindless. Devastating, his tongue laved soft and slow across her quivering flesh until she felt like melting ice cream, leaving her straining and trembling for more. His hands held her hips in a firm grip, holding her still while he pleasured her. When he slid a finger inside to stroke that mysterious sweet spot, the pleasure magnified tenfold. Writhing against the sheet, she felt him tug the pillow away from her.

  “Look at me,” he said.

  She shook her head, eyes squeezed shut, biting down hard on her lower lip to keep from moaning aloud. His thrust his finger deeper and she dug her head into the bedding, clapping a hand over her mouth to muffle her cry of need.

  “Christa. Look at me.” Patient fingers wrapped around the hand covering her mouth and dragged it away. He brought it to his hair and she tangled her fingers into its luxurious softness. When he did nothing more, she cracked open one eye and risked a peek.

  He was wedged between her thighs, watching her, lips hovering a few inches above where she needed him so badly, and wet from...what he’d been doing to her. Her eyes squeezed shut again. God, if he kept this up she was going to faint.

  He pressed a gentle kiss against her center. She trembled, biting back a moan, lifting toward him.

  “Chris.”

  She shook her head, praying for him not to stop, to just let her come.

  “I can feel how close you are,” he murmured, the heat of his breath making the ache between her legs unbearable. As if to prove his point, he slid his tongue across her swollen bundle of nerves.

  She whimpered when he stopped, moving against that solid finger buried inside her.

  “Look at me.”

  “No.”

  “Come on,” he coaxed. “Just look at me.”

  God, she couldn’t take it anymore. Unable to resist, she lifted her head and gazed down at him, panting, waiting.

  He was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. “Hold me,” he whispered, tugging downward on the hand she had wound in his hair. “Guide me.” She let go of the bedding with her free hand and slid it into the silky strands, shaking, and managed to hold his gaze as she pulled him toward her. With a growl of enjoyment he lowered his head and opened his mouth—

  The instant his tongue found her she cried out and threw her head back, dragging the pillow back over her face. Her body opened to him even more, begging him as he licked, stroked and hurtled her over the edge into ecstasy. Gasping for breath when it faded, she fell back ag
ainst the downy comforter, too weak to move.

  Rayne kissed his way up her body and pulled the pillow away. I told you so, his laughing eyes said. Gazing up into his face, gilded in the moonlight streaming through the window, she fell in love with him all over again.

  ****

  So this was what making love felt like.

  He’d had sex plenty of times, but he’d never made love to anyone. Now he understood the difference.

  He’d never been so focused on his partner before, so attuned to each sound and movement, every expression on her face. He’d never used his body to demonstrate the staggering emotion he felt for the woman beneath him. Rayne’s heart pounded at the intensity of it.

  He laced his fingers through hers and held her hands on either side of her head, content to stare down at her while she recovered from her orgasm. She lay beneath him utterly relaxed, eyes sleepy and sated. The hunger inside him was almost unbearable but he fought it back, wanting to give her more, so he aroused her all over again, taking his time as he used his hands and mouth, ignoring the ache of protest in his healing triceps. He watched the need building in her, heard it in every broken moan, felt it in the beat of the pulse in her throat as he licked it.

  “Rayne, stop—” She arched into him, her body dissolving into shivers as her arousal climbed again. “No more. I can’t.”

  “Sure you can.” Her skin was like warm velvet.

  Savoring each gasp, every breathless cry she gave, he explored her body, his mouth pleasuring her breasts, all of her, learning exactly where to linger, exactly how much pressure to exert to make her mindless. The feel and taste of her drove him out of his head.

  When he was satisfied she was as starved for him as he was for her, he let go of her hands and came up on his knees while his fingers traced along the center of her body. She caught her breath when he caressed her wetness, teasing her with whisper-light caresses until she opened and bowed up off the bed, begging for deeper contact.

  With a guttural sound she pulled his mouth to hers, hands moving over his hips to the engorged length of his cock. He fished the condom from his jeans pocket beside him, sheathed himself and settled his weight over her, balancing on his good arm.