These Arms of Mine

by Judy Lynn Hubbard

  “We’ll see.”

  Before she could respond, determined lips closed over hers in a strong kiss. His mouth was warm and inviting, not cold and repulsive as she had hoped it would be. She had known from past experience that his lips would feel like this—wonderful and vital. Days, months and years were swept away by his sensual mouth as it thoroughly refamiliarized itself with hers.

  Her heart began to beat rapidly—not in fear, but in arousal. She moaned in protest to her thoughts and his actions, and her mouth parted slightly in shock and surrender.

  That was all the encouragement he needed. He took full advantage of her surprise, sliding his tongue between her lips to slip into the honeyed recesses beyond. He continued to masterfully taste every centimeter, every tantalizing crevice of the bounty he had uncovered.

  Her hands moved to his shoulders to push him away, yet stopped there, resting instead. Did she really want to escape? That simple yet complex question rolled around in her dazed mind. A hundred confusing sensations bombarded her entire being as Derrick continued his mind-shattering caresses. She hadn’t expected to be blown away by a simple kiss after two years. However, there was nothing remotely simple about Derrick’s kiss, or her disheartening responses to the masterful, sensual onslaught he was unleashing on her.

  One of his hands slid languidly down her back to rest on her hip, pressing her closer against his hard length as his mouth continued to plunder hers. Her eyes were half closed, as sensation after sensation—each an awakening, each frightening and intensely pleasurable—began to overpower her self-proclaimed resentment of the man whose arms she was nearly melting into. The hands resting on his shoulders flexed and then tightened their grip as she resisted an almost irrepressible urge to entwine them around his neck and press herself even closer against his hard length.

  Never in a million years would she have dreamed she would be in Derrick’s arms again, enjoying his kisses and caresses. Yet, here she was, wanting, almost reveling, in this intimate contact with a man she should hate for blackmailing her into marriage. She hadn’t bargained for this. She hadn’t expected to still be attracted to him physically. How could this be? Even as the question arose in her mind, she admitted that he was the only man who had ever elicited such thorough, satisfying, mind-boggling passion from her and, to her dismay, he had lost none of his skills when it came to arousing her hidden desires.

  His lips slowly drew apart from hers, despite a slight moan of protest from her, and he huskily commanded, “Say my name.”

  “No.”

  Her voice was soft and tortured. For the life of her she didn’t know where the strength to articulate came from.

  Her refusal made him pull her closer, until she felt every hard inch of his wonderful body pressed intimately, maddeningly against her own. Unapologetic hands slipped beneath her sweater to touch the satiny heated flesh of her back, and she thought she would die from something very close to rapture when he pulled her yet closer.

  Playful lips nipped at hers before sliding down her jaw to burrow into her softly scented throat. She gasped as he raked his strong teeth across her skin, and then his tongue traced the outline of her collarbone before he raised his head to stare into her confused, dazed, passion-glazed eyes.

  “Say my name.” As he softly repeated his previous command, one of his hands moved to her hair, his fingers entangling there.

  He was as surprised as she looked at the shock of pleasure holding and kissing her elicited within him. It was as if the damnable time they had spent apart had never occurred. He pulled her mouth to within centimeters of his. His tongue skimmed her lips lightly before retreating again, refusing to give her what she wanted until she yielded to his demands.

  “Say it.”

  His warm breath intermingled with hers as the hand at her back moved to rest between her shoulder blades before sliding back down her satiny flesh. He needed to hear his name on her lips, whispered with passion before he muffled the sound with his ravenous, hungry mouth.

  She closed her eyes briefly before acquiescing. She spoke so softly he thought he had imagined it.

  “Derrick.”

  “Again.” He softly kissed her quivering lips—lips that were as addictive as anything he had ever known.

  “Derrick,” she reiterated on a sigh, and then on a moan, as he had foretold, as his lips and hands continued to lightly caress her. “Derrick.”

  The last thing she saw was his smile—not of triumph, but of understanding—before her eyes closed once her mouth was finally, ravenously recaptured. He kissed her again and again and she prayed he would stop soon before she begged him never to. His lips were like a magnet, attracting her against her will, holding her mesmerized, unable to break away.

  The last thing she wanted was to escape from this intensely pleasurable embrace. Her mind screamed out for her to put as much distance between them as possible, yet her body craved closer contact with his—much closer. How could she remotely tolerate kisses from a man who was single-handedly ruining her career and stealing her freedom? What in the name of God was wrong with her? She couldn’t begin to formulate an answer anymore than she could deny that she craved and enjoyed his kisses, almost to the point of self-destruction.

  After endless, sweet minutes of torture, his firm, strong, warm lips dragged themselves from hers. She fought the urge to pull his mouth back to hers and gradually opened her confused, embarrassed eyes to find him staring at her with an unreadable expression. Her cheeks were warm, her lips were trembling, and she could just die from the embarrassment.

  He smiled slightly, one of his fingers trailing over her quivering, moist lips as he huskily said, “I think our arrangement will be very profitable and pleasurable—for the both of us.”

  She pushed away from him at his words, partly in anger and partly just needing to escape from his overpowering presence and from her own desires. She needed to get out of there! This time he let her go, and this time she nearly ran out the door, not stopping to look back—certain she would find him following her.

  Had she turned to stare at him, she would have seen echoing arousal, disbelief and dismay etched on his handsome features. Her retreating pace accelerated until she was safely out of his maddening reach—for the moment.

  A few days later, she sat beside Derrick in one of the most upscale jewelry shops in Washington. Even though she had insisted she didn’t want an expensive ring, he had been adamant that she would wear a ring to be marveled at, for appearances’ sake.

  She hadn’t seen him since the devastating kisses in his office, yet the time apart had done nothing to ease her mind, nor squelch her anticipation of their next encounter. She didn’t know what was the matter with her or who she was becoming. Even more unnerving, when she was with him, she wasn’t sure she even cared.

  “What about this one?” He held up a three-carat brilliant-cut diamond solitaire, set in a split band of platinum.

  “It’s beautiful but…” She carefully took the exquisite ring from his fingers.

  “But what?” He eyed her closely.

  “It’s too expensive—all these rings are.”

  She placed the exquisite ring back onto the black velvet cover on the table next to the matching wedding band, which was inset with a carat of diamonds halfway around it, and the man’s wedding band, which was a thick circle of brightly polished platinum with scrollwork over its surface.

  “Nonsense.” He smiled at her assertion. “Besides, when this is all over, you’ll have something to sell that will bring you a nice piece of change.”

  She turned hurt and angry eyes on him. When she spoke, her voice trembled slightly, “Why did you say that to me? You know I’m not marrying you for your money.”

  The somewhat mocking smile on his face slowly faded as he realized he had hurt her. Part of him had meant
to, but he derived no pleasure from the fact that he had succeeded. Instead he felt miserable about it. He wasn’t a cruel person and there was no reason for him to act like one.

  “Alesha, I’m sorry.”

  He cupped her sad face between his hands tenderly—more tenderly than he would have imagined himself capable of.

  “Are you?”

  Her whispered words implied she didn’t believe him. She was, however, oddly moved by his unexpected and uncharacteristic apology.

  “Yes, I am. Very.” Soothing fingers lightly rubbed over her cheekbones.

  “You wanted to hurt me.” Her voice was barely audible.

  “Maybe I did,” he admitted softly, eyes never breaking contact with hers.

  Despite knowing the reason, she would have asked him why. However, his lips lowered toward and captured hers. He kissed her softly, soothingly at first, but as if the barest contact with her mouth inflamed him, the kiss soon became passionate, and the hands on her face pulled her closer to his ravaging mouth.

  Her own hands slid up to rest on his chest as she allowed herself to enjoy the wondrous sensations washing over her body as Derrick’s expert lips and tongue continued to mate hotly with her own. He had to be the best kisser in the world, she dazedly thought as, against her will, his mouth slowly lifted from hers.

  “Why are you always kissing me?” Her question was formed breathlessly against his lips, which still rested lightly against hers.

  “Because I enjoy it and so do you.” He earnestly traced the outline of her moist lower lip with his tongue, feeling her quiver. “You always did, remember?”

  She did, but she wouldn’t tell him that. She realized she didn’t have to articulate it. He knew—just as he knew she wanted him to kiss her again and again.

  “Derrick, I…”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” She shook her head, not knowing what to say—or to confess.

  His eyes bore into hers as he continued, “Your mouth is made for kissing—soft, moist, sweet and tempting—like a ripe, juicy, luscious strawberry. It begs to be stroked, caressed…consumed.” He ended his erotic assertion on a ravenous whisper before his lips slowly tasted hers again.

  His sensuous, hypnotic words stole her breath. Her heart began to beat erratically at his nearness and the vivid imagery he had created within her head. She couldn’t have responded if she wanted to, and it was just as well because, as if to prove his point, his lips pulled at hers, tasting them, before closing over hers again. Of its own volition, her right hand moved up his chest to his shoulder, to rest at the nape of his neck as he continued his exploration of her quivering mouth.

  His hands moved to her back as his lips continued to kiss hers. She sighed in pleasure and her mouth opened wider as he continued to taste the sweet nectar he found within.

  She had forgotten where they were and so had he, until a loud cough interrupted what had become a heated, passionate embrace. To her disappointment, Derrick’s lips reluctantly slid from hers as they both turned toward the sound.

  “Excuse me.” The salesman’s embarrassed countenance greeted them as they simultaneously turned passion-glazed eyes in his direction.

  Alesha quickly lowered her gaze from his, so embarrassed she would have moved away, yet Derrick’s hands on her back wouldn’t allow her to. As always, he seemed completely in control of the situation.

  “Forgive us—we’re very much in love.” He smiled at the salesman, who nodded in understanding.

  “Of course, it’s such a joy to see.” The man beamed at the two of them. “Have you decided on rings?”

  “Yes, we’ll take these.” Derrick handed the man the most expensive set in the case, the one with the trillion-cut solitaire. Then, turning loving eyes to her, he said, “Right, darling?”

  “Yes.” She was surprised anything audible passed from her passion-constricted throat.

  “Excellent choice, sir, madam.” The man barely contained his enthusiasm. “Shall I wrap them for you?”

  “The wedding rings, but she’ll wear the engagement ring.” Derrick lifted the solitaire off its black-velvet base and placed it onto Alesha’s finger before lifting her hand to his lips and kissing it as his eyes bore deeply into hers. If she didn’t know better, she would think he loved her dearly.

  “The perfect ring for the perfect fiancée.” He lowered her hand from his lips, but continued to stare into her bewildered eyes.

  “Let’s just see how that fits.” The salesman took Alesha’s hand from Derrick’s to inspect the ring. “It looks like an excellent fit. How does it feel?”

  “It—it’s fine.” Alesha’s eyes were still mesmerized by Derrick’s.

  He reclaimed her hand, kissing it again before he abruptly stood. “Darling, I’ll be right back.” Then he followed the ecstatic salesman over to the register.

  Once alone, she placed sweaty palms against her burning cheeks. Uneasily, she contemplated what had just transpired between her and the enigma who was her fiancé. Trembling fingers lightly touched her moist, thoroughly kissed lips.

  God, what was happening to her? With confused, forlorn eyes, she stared furtively across the room at Derrick, and she felt a twinge of longing in the pit of her stomach. Unashamedly, she wished he were still seated beside her, kissing and caressing her. She glanced down at the twinkling diamond on her left hand and, for a moment, wished her engagement to Derrick was real instead of simply a business arrangement. She shook her head to dispel the vivid longing that suddenly invaded her soul for something forbidden and terribly exciting, which she feared only Derrick could give her.

  She was treading on very dangerous ground and must take extreme care not to think of Derrick as anything other than a means to an end. Marrying him would ensure her brother’s freedom and her mother’s continued ignorance of what Robert had done—nothing else good would come from their union. She had to keep repeating the suddenly distasteful truth that he was using her, as she was him. There were no emotional entanglements or involvements as far as they were concerned and she didn’t want any. If only she could believe her silent assertions.

  Why couldn’t she hate him? She wanted to—things would be so much simpler if she did. But she didn’t. Perhaps it was the realization that her still-unexplained actions were the basis for his angry feelings toward her. She understood his anger toward her better than he did.

  In her mind, two years ago she had done what was necessary when she had ended things between them. Yet the decision still plagued her, even after all this time. Therefore, how could it not affect Derrick the same way? Besides, Robert had stolen an enormous amount of money from him, and he had a legitimate right to want to extract retribution from both of them, didn’t he?

  She knew he didn’t love her. At times, she was certain his feelings for her leaned more toward hatred. However, there was no denying that he wanted her physically, and she instinctively knew he wasn’t happy about that. She knew Derrick wanted nothing to do with her on a permanent basis, just as she wanted nothing to do with him. However, she was forced to admit to herself that she came to life in his arms as she did at no other time.

  After two years, he still had a power over her body and sometimes her mind, but she silently vowed that she would not let that power extend to her heart. She couldn’t afford to lower her guard with him because their relationship—although once very real—was now only a sham, a farce, an emotionless business arrangement. She must never let herself forget that, because if she did, she would truly be in danger of losing her soul.

  Chapter 4

  “Is your sweet young man coming for dinner tonight?”

  Barbara Robinson smiled at her daughter as they sat in the living room of her house. Robert glanced up from his magazine with a scowl, but made no comment.

 
; “Yes, Mom.” Alesha grimaced slightly at her mother’s choice of words.

  Of all the adjectives she would use to describe Derrick Chandler, sweet was certainly not one of them. She would have chosen words like gorgeous, enigmatic and arousing. She grudgingly admitted she would also add the word kind to the list of adjectives. For he had been unbelievably kind to her mother in the past two weeks since she had been told about their imminent marriage and, if she were completely honest, kind to her, as well. Her mother had taken to Derrick remarkably well—too well for Alesha’s taste.

  “I’m so happy for you, darling.” Barbara’s sincere words broke into her disturbing thoughts. “I like Derrick. He’s a good man—strong, dependable—and very handsome.” She tagged on the last comment with a laugh.

  Yes, he was devilishly handsome and sexy, Alesha admitted. Yet, there was also a hardness to him that hadn’t been present years earlier. She knew she was the one responsible for its creation—a source of guilt to her. Now she wondered if she could also possibly be the one to eradicate it.

  “Thanks, Mom. I’m glad you like him.” She forced a lightness in her voice she was far from feeling.

  “How could I not like him after seeing how he dotes on you?” Barbara beamed proudly.

  Alesha smiled at her, but remained silent. Yes, Derrick certainly played the role of the doting fiancé very well—too well for her taste. The memory of the many kisses they had shared over the past few weeks made her cheeks burn with embarrassment. Kisses? That was a tame word to describe their passionate, near-consummated encounters since they’d become engaged. She blushed hotly at the memories.

  He was always touching and kissing her, always raising her to a fever pitch, yet refusing to go any further. Though she should have been happy about that, she was disturbed to admit she was not. Irrationally, she wanted to know the fulfilling promise his smoldering kisses hinted at and truthfully believed he was trying to drive her insane with unfulfilled longing. Much to her dismay, she couldn’t wait to experience the conclusion of Derrick’s devastating caresses and kisses. Instinctively, she knew it would surpass anything she had experienced in her life.