“It’s not a game,” she quickly contradicted. It hurt her to have him think of her as deceptive when she was merely confused.
“Then, what?” He studied her with simmering anger evident in his expression. “Why the pretense?”
She longed to tell him everything, but what had once seemed so clear and logical now seemed silly and juvenile. She could no longer justify to herself her reasons for hurting him two years ago and for denying them the bliss they had just shared. How could she justify it to him?
All she wanted was to snuggle in his arms, close her eyes and enjoy being with him, but she couldn’t. She felt too ashamed and too confused to do that, and she couldn’t face any more of his justifiable anger and questions, either.
“Please, just leave me alone.”
Avoiding his eyes, she turned away from him again. This time, he allowed her to break free from his embrace. She immediately missed his warm hard body and felt completely bereft.
He looked at her bare back oddly and started to touch her, but stopped himself. Damn her, she owed him an explanation, and he wanted one! He reached out a hand to turn her around to face his righteous anger, but stopped himself. He needed to calm down. If they spoke now, he would say things out of anger he would regret later. Unable to help himself, he swore out loud and she jumped at the sound, though she made no move to face him again. He lay back against the pillows and placed a hand on his head in disbelief. Given the sweet rapture they had just shared, how ludicrous that they were now acting like complete strangers. Damn her, and damn himself for still wanting her with every breath he took!
She pulled the satin sheet closer about her and her body tingled as the soft material brushed against her flesh, made overly sensitive by Derrick’s hands, mouth and body. Even now, she unabashedly wanted him. Her body ached for his, but did he still want her?
Chapter 8
Hours later, she was still lying with her back to him as far to her side of the bed as possible—not wanting any incidental contact of their bodies to spark any smoldering flames in either of them. She had never been so uncomfortable in her life, afraid almost to breathe for fear that he would know she was awake and once again ask questions she didn’t know how to answer.
She wanted him as desperately as she had hours ago. She longed to feel his strong arms around her, but she couldn’t face the anger or the questions that she knew would still be reflected in his eyes when he looked at her. What was she going to do now? How was she going to continue in this marriage and face his inquiries about her past behavior on a daily basis?
What she silently feared and longed for occurred when he shifted suddenly, placing a strong arm around her waist, pulling her back against his warm, hard body. The fingers of one of his hands splayed across her stomach as his lips caressed the side of her neck and shoulder.
The hand on her stomach moved up slowly, massaging her pliant flesh to cup a full breast. He stroked her skin as his warm lips explored the soft skin of her neck, shoulder and back.
She closed her eyes as familiar sensations began to overwhelm her. When one of his legs slid between hers, she moaned with pleasure. His wandering fingers slid languidly back down her quaking body to her stomach and lower, moving to gently explore her pulsing depths, pushing deeply inside her again and again, eliciting ecstasy within her.
“Oh, God,” she whispered as he continued his devastating caresses.
She felt him smile against her shoulder and his teeth bit gently into her flesh. She arched back against him and one of her hands covered his as his fingers drove her crazy with longing.
His hands slowly turned her until she was lying on her back and his mouth captured hers in a singeing, greedy kiss, which stole her labored breath away. His body covered hers, his hands entangling themselves in her hair as he pulled her mouth closer to his. Her hands clung weakly to his shoulders before urgently moving down his back to rest on his hips as his mouth continued to ravage hers again and again. She wanted him so much it hurt.
He never said a word, yet his body spoke volumes. She didn’t doubt he was still angry at her, but he also still wanted her. Perhaps that would be enough for now.
Her body melted against his. She willingly lifted her hips as he plunged forcefully into her waiting void—filling her completely. She closed her eyes and traveled with him to that wonderful place he had carried her to before, where nothing mattered except the two of them and their passion for each other.
He manipulated her, controlled her, sent her into such a fever pitch, she thought she would literally burst from the mind-bending pleasure she felt. She didn’t, though, but rather yearned for more. His lips slid from hers to rest in the hollow of her neck, opening moistly over the pulse beating erratically there, his teeth scraping over her skin. His body continued to masterfully caress hers.
Hoarse moans of pleasure escaped from her lips. Her eyes were tightly shut as her body began to shudder, softly at first, but with increasing intensity, as did his. Her fingers stroked his rippling back as she pressed closer to the man who was now her husband and her lover. His body pressed hers into the soft mattress as they soared higher and higher on waves of desire. Once again, she obtained a glimpse of heaven in her husband’s arms.
She slowly awakened the next morning, stretching languidly against the unfamiliar feel of satin on her naked skin. Her hair covered her eyes, and she pushed it away with an impatient hand.
She glanced around the unfamiliar room. Why was her body so sore? Where was she? These and many other questions tumbled through her dazed mind, until she suddenly remembered. Slowly, she turned to look toward the side of the bed on which Derrick had lain last night but, to her relief—and dismay—he was gone.
She slowly brought a trembling hand to her mouth as she remembered him turning to her again in the night. More importantly, she remembered her response to him. She had to admit that he had been a wonderful, considerate and passionate lover. In fact, he had been everything she had ever fantasized about and more.
Sighing, she slid out of bed, taking the sheet with her. She walked by her robe and gown, which Derrick had strewn carelessly on the floor. As she bent to pick them up before placing them on a chair, her mind again drifted toward last night and the wonderful discovery it had held.
She entered the bathroom and dropped the sheet. Her mouth dropped open as she caught a glimpse of herself in the full mirror and stopped in shock. Was this her? Her face looked different, maturer. Her lips were slightly swollen from the numerous ardent kisses Derrick had placed there. Her breasts looked full and tender from his hands and mouth. Hot color flooded her cheeks as she beheld the evidence of Derrick’s conquest of her body. She was a woman now—she was Derrick’s woman. Derrick, her husband, a man who baffled and inflamed her mind, body and soul.
Turning away from the disturbing picture she presented, she walked over and turned the shower on full blast. Stepping under the steaming spray, she grabbed a bar of soap and slowly foamed her still-tingling body. Where was Derrick? What would she say to him when she saw him? She still had no satisfactory answers to his questions.
Long minutes later, she stepped out of the shower, her skin squeaky-clean. She wrapped a towel, sarong-style, around her wet hair and grabbed a bath sheet to place over her body. Before she could accomplish that task, however, the door burst opened and Derrick appeared casually dressed in jeans and a white sweater—looking very handsome and desirable.
She gasped at his intrusion and tried to pull the towel in front of her. However, his strong hands stopped her. Taking the plush material from her fingers, he slowly proceeded to thoroughly dry every inch of her.
He slid the towel slowly down her shoulders and arms. Then he drew the material across her collarbone and sensuously across her swollen breasts, which hardened at the contact of his toweled hands. A soft sigh escaped fro
m her lips as she waited for him to go further.
His eyes moved from her aroused face to follow the path of his hands as they continued their descent down her satiny skin, moving to brush across her flat stomach, shapely hips, thighs and feet before he slowly walked behind her and dried her back, buttocks and legs.
Returning to stand in front her, he dropped to his knees, his toweled hands moving to her inner thighs with increasing urgency, staying there longer than was necessary before he totally discarded the towel and replaced it with his fingers. Her knees went weak, and she swayed until her back gratefully encountered a nearby wall.
Her breathing was ragged and her fingers flexed on his broad shoulders to steady herself as his fingers continued their manipulation of her fevered body. When his mouth replaced his fingers, she cried out at the multitude of new, wonderful feelings that assaulted her tremulous body.
His hot tongue delved deeply into her moist, pulsing recesses, darting, twisting, turning, retracting and seeking again and again—first slowly, then faster and faster. He drove her to the brink of ecstasy and back. All the while, she longed for more, much more.
Her body shook convulsively. She closed her eyes tightly and her head rolled from side to side as he continued his devastating exploration of her all-too-willing flesh. A thousand tiny, brilliant stars exploded behind her closed eyes as his mouth and lips slowly trailed back up her body to stare at her face, clouded by passion, silently pleading with him for a release only he could give. He removed the towel from her wet hair, fingers sliding through the damp tresses.
She was trembling as he reverently stared at her naked form, his eyes burning her with their intensity. She almost pleaded with him to make love to her. She didn’t have to verbalize her desire—he knew what she wanted, and he wanted the same thing.
He reached out and lightly brushed her nipple, which hardened automatically at his now-familiar touch. He smiled slightly as he drew her into his arms and placed a passionate, all-consuming kiss onto her quivering lips. Despite her resolve not to, she welcomed his erotic kisses as much as she had his intimate caresses.
His hands pulled her slightly away from the wall to roam down her bare back, pressing her closer. He suggestively rubbed his hips against hers and she whimpered against his mouth. Her arms encircled his neck and she ardently returned his kisses. Feelings—similar to those that had surfaced last night, yet somehow stronger—began to overwhelm her, nearly crippling her. God help her, she wanted him with every painful breath she took.
His mouth plundered hers for several wonderful minutes. She began to moan against his lips, opening her mouth wider beneath his, wishing he would stop this sweet, sweet torture and satisfy them both.
She was quivering uncontrollably as his lips slid from hers and he slowly took a full breast into his hot mouth. His hands moved to her round buttocks, holding her closer against his intense need as he continued to taste her overheated skin.
He hadn’t meant for this to happen. He had wanted to catch her off guard and demand answers to questions she had evaded last night. However, one look at her luscious body and all rational thought had fled—just as it had last night. He didn’t know why, despite her obvious deceit, but she excited him and made him feel more alive than he ever had.
Her fingers held his head closer to her and his teeth bit into her nipple, causing her to gasp out aloud. His hands lightly caressed her sides before moving to her back as he lifted his head to again ravage her mouth, simultaneously sliding his hands up to rest on her lower back. Her fingers held his head fast as their wild, unexpected, intensely satisfying encounter proceeded.
Suddenly, he pulled his mouth away from the intoxicating depths of hers and, disengaging her hands from his head, placed them on his chest instead. She opened passion-glazed eyes to stare longingly at him, not wanting him to stop—ever.
“Undress me.”
His soft, urgent command made its way through the foggy recesses of her mind. She gasped audibly, but her fingers moved to obey, sliding beneath the sweater he wore, lightly touching his muscled, hairy chest, making him suck in his breath sharply. Her fingers lightly stroked his chest before she pulled the garment up and over his head, throwing it in a careless heap on the floor. Fascinated eyes watched as her fingers slowly smoothed over his powerful shoulders to his arms, enjoying every nuance of the journey.
“Now my pants.” His words were whispered against her mouth, his tongue urgently reaching between her lips to touch hers.
His hands guided her to the snap of his jeans, helping her unfasten it. Her hands would have moved away, and he knew it. So his own hand captured one of hers, slipping it beneath the material to encounter his burning flesh.
She gasped, her eyes staring into his hypnotic gaze. She saw the blatant desire written in his eyes and knew it mirrored her own. At his insistence, she touched him fleetingly before his fingers urged her to engulf him totally.
Her breathing was now ragged, as was his. She wanted to move her hand away, yet wanted to continue her forbidden exploration of his marvelous masculine form. He filled her hand as she longed for him to fill her body. Again his lips closed over hers hotly, eyes blazing bright before hers closed against the intense brilliance.
Somehow, his jeans were discarded and he grabbed her buttocks, lifting her slightly before he entered her easily. Her legs automatically wrapped themselves around his waist as he pressed her against the cool, white-tile wall with his body, frantically.
She clung to him wildly, her mouth mating recklessly with his. As she raked her nails down his rippling back, she vaguely wondered who this ravenous stranger was. It couldn’t be her! Just as soon as the thought entered her mind, it left, as Derrick’s masterful body continued to bombard hers, driving all rational reasoning from her mind. Agonizing pleasure built inside her until she thought she would explode from the force rapidly mounting to near bursting.
“You’re so sweet—so sweet,” he murmured against her mouth, his breath erotically intermingling with hers before engulfing her lips once again.
Her hands moved up and down his muscled back, her nails digging into his rippling flesh. The legs around his waist tightened, pulling him closer to her as his writhing body continued to both soothe and excite hers. After several long, agonizing moments, she hoarsely screamed into his mouth as he fulfilled her totally. His mouth took her screams, cries and whimpers as their bodies fiercely gave and took from each other.
She suddenly opened her eyes, staring into the fiery depths of his as their passion reached the wonderful moment of gratification. In that instant, she knew, as she was sure he did also, that her body belonged to him. There was no way she could deny that. However, she must take special care to ensure that her heart didn’t follow suit. Yet she silently admitted it was already much too late for that.
Later, about 2:00 p.m., they walked side by side dressed alike in jeans, sweaters and leather jackets. Despite herself, Alesha had to admit she was having a good time with her husband. It was a cloudy, cold November day with the temperature in the forties. She sniffed appreciatively as different pleasant fragrances assailed her overactive senses.
Much to her surprise, Derrick made no attempt to question her about the revelations of last night, but rather showed her particular points of interest, and what she had seen of the grounds on which his house sat was lovely. They stopped to sit on a cobblestone bench in front of a babbling brook.
She unexpectedly asked, “Why have you never married?”
Did she imagine it or did a shadow fall over his face at her query? She didn’t know what had made her ask that question, or why she waited with baited breath for his response.
He stood and walked to stare into the water with his back to her. She waited for him to speak.
“I’m sorry if that was too personal.”
He threw a roc
k into the pond and turned to face her. “I was married briefly after we broke up.”
Her mouth dropped open in shock. She couldn’t help it, nor could she seem to force it to close again. She waited silently for him to continue, his demeanor telling her there was much more to the story.
“Nothing to say?”
His voice was bitter, and though he still had his back to her, she imagined his eyes matched his suddenly dark mood.
“I—I don’t know what to say.”
He smiled slightly without humor. “No questions?”
She had a thousand, but she didn’t dare ask any of them. Who had he married? Had he loved her? How soon after their breakup had he married her? When and why had they divorced? Did they keep in touch? Did she live in Washington?
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
She stood and walked over to him. She watched, intrigued, as a multitude of emotions, none of which she could name, crossed his face. He treated her to a piercing, unnerving stare.
“There’s nothing to tell. To make a short story even shorter, after too much liquor, I married her in Vegas on the spur of the moment—it was the worst mistake of my life. We didn’t know each other, but it soon became apparent that we wanted different things out of life, so we quickly divorced.” He succinctly, coldly summed up the worst period of his life.
“I’m sorry.” Even to her own ears, her apology sounded pathetic.
“Why are you sorry, Alesha?” He walked closer to her. “Because you know your actions drove me to it?”
“No.” She shook her head and stood abruptly. “I didn’t know.”
“Oh, but you did.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her close. “How does that make you feel? Strong? Elated? Happy?”
“No!” She tried to pull her arm free, but he wouldn’t release her.
“Why? Why did you do it?” He grabbed her other arm and pulled her closer.
These Arms of Mine Page 11