by Cherry Adair
“Only twelve hundred. Chandler wanted to keep it intimate, bless his heart.”
Twelve hundred people staring at my rear. Oh joy. Catherine’s eyes met Luke’s. She saw the answering humor, and the question, Are you all right? She gave a small nod. A thousand-plus guests had not been invited a week ago, when Faith had called her daughter. Catherine gave a mental shrug. It wasn’t important.
Faith recovered and handed the dress to her. “Well, I did my best. Just suck everything in for a couple of hours. It should be just fine. I must bid you au revoir. My masseuse awaits. Walk me to the door, darling.”
Catherine wondered if Faith called everyone “darling” simply because she couldn’t remember their names. Probably. She handed the dress to Luke and walked her mother to the door.
“’Night, Faith,” he called from across the room. “I’m looking forward to meeting old Chandler tomorrow. Hope we get a chance to chat. Dad filled me in on some of your more hilarious antics. I can’t wait to share them with your next new...ah, this husband. We should have him rolling in the aisle.”
Cat gently closed the door behind her speechless mother. She slid the bolt home, then turned to face him.
Cat had the oddest expression on her beautiful face. Oh, man. Was she going to cry?
“I’m sorry, Cat, I hate the way Cruella De Ville talks to you. Let’s face it, your mother is a caricature—”
With a war whoop, Cat raced across the room and flung herself exuberantly into his arms. “My hero!”
Her mouth slanted down on his. Perfect synchronicity; his was right there to meet it. He hugged her close. Man, she felt incredible. She laughed against his mouth, and he’d never felt anything as intoxicating in his life.
“My dragon in shining armor.” Her tongue curled around his with pure, unadulterated carnal intent.
His arms tightened around her. She kissed him and kissed him and kissed him. As though there was no tomorrow. He did the only thing he could: he kissed her back. Just for a minute. Just to slake his thirst. Just to quench his centuries-old desire for her. She tasted of the tears she hadn’t shed while her mother was in the room. She tasted of joy. She tasted of yearning.
She tasted of heaven.
She tasted...off-limits.
He wasn’t Mr. Right, and he’d better take a moment here to remind both of them.
As much as he wanted to go on kissing her forever, his hands automatically circled her waist to hold her at bay. There was only so much he could stand. He dragged his willing mouth away from the sweet succulence of hers. He hadn’t resisted her for ten years to fail now. “Uh, Cat—”
Instead of answering, she gave him a little hip shove. They landed with a small thud on the bed behind him.
CHAPTER TWELVE
CAT PEPPERED PASSIONATE kisses on his mouth, his chin, his throat.
A blinding, dizzy hunger swamped him, so deep, so profound, he shook with it. Wrapping her more tightly in his arms, he feasted on the softness of her lips, on the slick dueling of her agile tongue, on the press of her slender body to his.
He tried to resist. He really did. He sent up a fervent prayer, but it was too late. Her breath feathered against his ear. How could she know there was a direct line from ear to groin? Panicked, he realized his body parts were disengaging from his brain. The brain that knew this was an incredibly dangerous situation.
The narcotic kiss went on and on. The alarm bells in his head became more distant as she arched against him. With unsteady hands, Luke tried to shift her off his body and out of temptation’s way. Unfortunately, his hands seemed to be holding more than pushing.
Cat’s eyes turned to liquid amber as she looked down, his name on her lips a shape without a sound. Then she dipped her head again.
He attempted to avoid her avid mouth. Her tongue was extremely sneaky. Her hips wriggled to get more comfortable, in the process hiking her dress up, baring more leg.
“What are you—doing?” he gasped, as her hand stroked down his side, evoking an intense shudder of desire. Her fantastic hair made a fragrant cave about their faces as she pulled the tail of his shirt from his jeans and kept him pinned to the bed with her body. Her eyes, so close they glittered like ancient amber, stared into his.
“Know something?” Her whisper, a hairsbreadth from his mouth, tethered him in place. Never in his life had he been so tempted. Found his need so great. Wanted a woman this much. And for so long. He had to battle the heat curling through him. For both of them. Yet the scent of her filled him to the brim. He...had to...think. Right. That was it. He had to think. With his brain.
She nibbled the corner of his mouth. “You talk too much.” She clutched at his hair with one hand, the other busy tugging and ripping at his clothes.
A sensual fog clouded his reason. Her kisses were succulent. Rich with need. Delicious with desire. Her breath was warm against his lips, the inside of her mouth hot. Wet. Sweet. Hungry.
Having her like this felt so good it hurt. There wasn’t a cell in Luke’s body that didn’t crave her like an addict. But he had to be sensible. His fingers curled around her upper arms to gently push her away.
Instead he found his hands sliding over the smooth skin of her shoulders in a caress. “You don’t know what you’re doing,” he said desperately, his voice thick with hope and need.
“I’ll get better with practice,” Cat assured him, missing the point completely. Taking an ear in each hand, she held his head so he had to look at her. Her pupils appeared dark and enormous. “I’m a big girl, Luke. I know what I want.”
She was curious, he forced himself to remember. Of course she was curious. His heartbeat kicked into a higher gear at the look of determination in her amber eyes. Luke groaned. She was long past the age where a woman took a lover. And he was the designated candidate. She considered him safe. She knew he’d do anything for her.
“No, wait. Cat—just—hold on a—”
She was a virgin. If he didn’t have several really good reasons why he shouldn’t proceed with this, that one would do it. He had to let her down gently. He was going to gently disentangle their bodies. Yes, he was. As soon as he came up with a reason that wouldn’t hurt her. As soon as he could move, quiet his own raging hormones... As soon as his brain came back online.
“Uh, Cat? Why don’t we talk about this?”
“Oh, Luke. You smell so good!”
A low, primal moan escaped him as she laved a warm, wet tongue over his right nipple. He forced himself not to react. But oh, God—he’d ached for this for weeks. Months. Years. Decades. He struggled for control.
And lost.
“Still sure?” he rasped.
“Please make love to me.”
Her eyes lost focus as he bent his head and touched his mouth to hers. The kiss zinged through her bloodstream like potent alcohol. While he distracted her with the amazing versatility of his hot tongue in her mouth, Luke pulled the cotton knit dress down to uncover her breasts.
His eyes gleamed when he saw her strapless, lavender satin demi-bra. “Oh, man, touching you feels like a dream.” He traced the pale swell above the cups, making her shiver.
“I’m real.”
“Thank God. This looks incredible on you.” His smile was feral. “It’ll look even better on the floor.”
His touch became almost reverent as his hand skimmed across her breasts. She arched upward, encouraging a firmer touch. But Luke wanted to explore. Lazily. Methodically. Catherine moaned as his thumbnail brushed her aroused nipple through the thin satin. While she desperately wanted the exquisite torture to last, her body demanded more immediate gratification.
“Luke...” She took his hand and pressed it hard against her. He found the front clasp of her bra. The cups fell away, baring her to his hot, damp breath. Luke palmed one breast at his own spe
ed, his hand hot against her.
“Better than a dream.” He dipped his head and, gentle as a butterfly, settled his lips on her nipple. It felt...exquisite. Then he sucked the hard nub deep into the cavern of his mouth, making her body arch with pleasure. A blinding shimmer of lust shot straight to her crotch. Mindless and frantic, Catherine clutched the back of his neck. Her need went beyond his gentle touches. She throbbed. She ached. She had to have...
“Luke...please...”
His lips closed with delicate greed over the other nipple. She didn’t want delicate, she wanted desperate.
“Luke, take off m-my dre—” She swallowed. “Naked. I want to be na—ah!” Long moments ticked by before she remembered what she’d been trying to say.
“No rush,” he said between nibbles and licks.
“Yes,” she told the top of his head breathlessly as the pressure inside her built. “There is.”
“No way am I going to rush through the hors d’oeuvres just because you’re greedy for the main course. Relax, Catwoman, you’re in good hands.”
“Great hands,” she assured him. “But slow hands.”
Luke’s chuckle vibrated through her chest. He cupped and kneaded the neglected breast while increasing suction on the other nipple. Driving her insane. Her head thrashed from side to side, her hips arched up off the bed as he blew on the wet bead. He bit down, not so gently, his fingers squeezing the twin with the same intensity. Then he skimmed her dress up her thighs. Catherine vaguely felt the air cool her bare legs. Luke’s palm burned a path from knee to upper thigh.
“I...” Air spilled from her lungs as, with a low growl, he kissed her mouth, nibbling and teasing as his hand reached its goal.
...love you.
The feel of his fingers brushing the apex of her thighs through the thin fabric of her panties made her body writhe in response.
His finger dipped skillfully into the top elastic of her lavender satin panties. “Easy. Easy.” Luke paused to breathe reassurances, then his mouth came down on hers once more.
Catherine felt her face grow warm as he intimately stroked her. She blushed hotter at the moisture his fingers encountered. While his clever mouth worked magic, Catherine shuddered, her entire body sensitized to Luke’s touch. It was electrifying. Amazing.
He grazed the corner of her mouth. His lips traveled over her eyelids to close her eyes against the bright light. She felt the tips of his fingers brush satin-crushed curls, and she shivered deliciously. She moved her legs, aroused beyond bearing.
Luke deepened the kiss. His fingers sneaked into the slick wetness between her legs. He made a sound, almost of pain, as he slid a long finger deep inside the swollen folds. A low, hungry noise came from her own throat. Too much. It was too much. She shifted franti-cally against the scratchy hotel bedspread.
Luke lifted his head, his eyes dark and smoky. “Still with me?”
Catherine swallowed. Every nerve ending in her body screamed for the sweet release his fingers promised. “I think I’ve gone ahead,” she murmured thickly as the scent of her own arousal mixed with the dark erotic fragrance of Luke’s skin.
Dimly she heard him chant her name over and over again as he pressed her face against his hard, sweaty chest while aftershocks rippled through her.
God, she loved him. She loved the twist of his mouth as he concentrated on her pleasure. She loved how tender he was with her. How careful. She loved the deep bass of his voice, and the dark sexy taste of his mouth. She loved the smell of his skin and the silken texture of his hair. She loved having his fingers buried deep inside her.
Her choppy breath huffed. Luke’s shuddered to a stop. Good. Suddenly shy, Catherine buried her face against the flat plane of his stomach. And inhaled the unique fragrance of an aroused Luke Van Buren. He smelled like her every fantasy. Her heart, already pounding, shifted into a primitive beat. Reflexively, her fingers tightened around him.
He growled low in his throat, then struggled to get something out of his back pocket and at the same time shimmy out of his jeans. She heard the double thud of his shoes hitting the carpet, the whoosh of his pants joining them on the floor.
“Wallet,” he grunted, flipping it open to remove a foil packet. He ripped into it with his teeth, then handed her the rolled rubber.
Catherine stared at the tiny coil. What was Luke doing with a rubber in his wallet? He certainly hadn’t been planning on sleeping with her on this trip.... Her heart thudded. Don’t go there, she warned herself. Don’t even think about that.
She looked from the condom to the bulge beneath his briefs. “You need king-size, not this dinky sample! Oh, Luke—”
“It’ll fit. Trust me. Here.” He snatched it back. “I’ll do it this time. I have only so much control left.”
He sheathed himself, then groaned when he glanced up to see her avid attention focused on his hands. “If you stare at it like that I’m going to come before we even get started.”
Catherine wished to God she could switch off her brain. Tell me you love me. That’d help.
He shot her a quick smile that twisted her heart. Then made quick work of the small satin triangle of her underwear, tossing the scrap of fabric aside. “Ah, Cat, so pretty.”
With one knee, he nudged her legs farther apart and slid into the cradle of her thighs. The sensation of his hardness against the vulnerable portal of her body made Catherine tense.
“Relax, sweetheart.”
Reflexively, her body stiffened. She bit her lip and tried to relax. I love you. I love you....
The fullness of his entry pinched as she opened to accommodate him. Tears sprang to her eyes and she hissed as her body tried to resist the tearing pain. Instinctively, her hips and knees tried to push him out and off.
Luke froze. “Cat?” He reared up to look at her face. “God, sweetheart, want me to stop?”
She tried to counteract her body’s natural instinct, and wrapped her arms more tightly around him so he didn’t roll away. This was Luke. Luke, the man she’d loved forever. Luke’s fingers in her hair. Luke’s breath mingling with hers. Luke’s body intimately connected with hers. After what seemed like a lifetime of denial, they were on the same page at last. She wasn’t going to ruin it now. “I’m—just hurry up and get it over with, okay?” Hurry up and take my virginity and get back to the good part.
The tendons in his neck stood out in sharp relief as he cupped her cheek in a tender hand. She felt him move inside her. “You’re hating this,” he stated. “Aren’t you?”
“No!” He saw right through her. “Yes,” she admitted reluctantly. White-lipped, he started to withdraw. Catherine squeezed her eyes shut and tightened her limbs around him.
“Finish.” She couldn’t look at him, she was so embarrassed.
He dropped his head and rested his forehead on hers. “I should have had the strength to tell you no.”
Oh, God. Not again.
A sob vibrated deep in her chest. She wished with all her heart that she’d never made him do something he hadn’t wanted to do.
“You’ve always given me what I wanted. Even when it’s bad for me. Finish what I started, Luke. Then it’ll be done.”
Not once had he said he loved her. Not even a whisper of his feelings for her. What was the main event in her life, was, for Luke, a night of sex with an inept but willing partner. Catherine bit her lip. A fumbling, inexperienced, clumsy partner. Weighty sorrow settled like a lead blanket on her chest. Don’t let me cry. Please, don’t let me cry.
It wasn’t Luke’s fault that he didn’t reciprocate her feelings. She couldn’t make him love her. The earlier beauty of their lovemaking dissipated, a crying ache too big to ever be filled.
Deep inside, the old insecurity reared its ugly head. She was seventeen, seeing his face twisted with anger and regret just before he w
alked away from her. Now she felt the exact same bottomless ache of loss. The same bleak understanding that she was on her own. And always would be.
Just because Luke was making love to her didn’t mean she had his heart. And without his heart, their lovemaking was a hollow victory. He was sorry she’d seduced him.
She’d taken the biggest gamble of her life.
And lost.
The wonderful feeling of euphoria was gone, but she held on to Luke as tightly as she could, wrapping him close with limbs and will as he pumped into her like a man possessed.
His muscles trembled as he tried to move more slowly within her. “O-kay?” he panted.
No. Her skin and her yearning felt too raw to tolerate his touch.
“Sure.” She buried her face against his neck. She needed a dark room and time alone. She wanted to turn back the clocks to before she’d made monumentally wrong choices with the right man.
Catherine’s heart ached unbearably, and tears leaked into her hair as she stroked the straining muscles of Luke’s back while he had sex with her.
Iloveyouloveyouloveyou.
Stupidstupidstupid. What in God’s name had he done? Still buried deep inside her, incapable of moving, Luke breathed in the scent of their lovemaking. A chill that had nothing to do with the air conditioner raced across his skin. She’d hated it. He’d known the second her body had tensed and she’d realized who was making love to her. Mr. Wrong.
He’d not only taken her precious virginity, but he’d taken it like a no-finesse pillaging Mongol.
“Luke, I lo—”
“Want the light off?” he asked at the same time, rolling away from her.
Silence pulsed, a living presence in the room. “Sure.”