by Sandra Brown
Slowly he began unbuttoning his shirt. Rana’s breasts ached with reawakening desire. He peeled the shirt off and tossed it heedlessly onto the floor. Hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans, he pulled them down.
When he straightened up, he was naked. And splendid. He came swaggering toward her across the shadowy room. The watery light from the windows cast beguiling, fluid shadows over his nakedness. She wanted him again.
Her arms dangled loosely at her sides, a testimony to her compliance. Without a word he pulled her unbuttoned blouse from the waistband of her skirt. It joined his shirt on the floor. He eased the straps of her slip down her arms and lowered it as far as her waist. His hands made one tender pass across her breasts. He dipped his head and touched the crest of one with his tongue; then, because it performed with such feminine beauty, he dallied there longer than he had planned.
“ Trent,” she gasped when she felt her knees about to buckle beneath her.
“Shhh.”
He unbuttoned her skirt with dispatch and pulled it and the slip down to the floor. They faced each other naked. He swept her up in his arms and deposited her lovingly on the bed, then followed her down, covering her.
She welcomed his weight. It pressed her into the mattress, and she loved the feeling. He was hard and heavy. She ran her hands down the supple expanse of his back and over his buttocks. She’d never had access to a man like this before. His sheer masculinity was a curiosity she wanted to explore and examine. Playfully she dug her short nails into his buttocks, and he grinned.
She kissed him. Wantonly.
He kissed her. Wetly.
He slid his tongue in and out of her mouth until she was breathless. “Still want to talk?” he drawled as his parted lips meandered over her neck and chest.
“We should.” She moaned when he covered her nipple with his mouth, rubbed it with his tongue.
“You’ve never learned to relax, Miss Ramsey.”
He moved lower, kissing her stomach as he went. She shivered with carnal delight. His tongue dipped into her navel, laved it thoroughly.
“ Trent?”
“Hm?”
Instinctively she drew her knees up. He positioned himself between them.
“We really should-”
His next caress was so giving, so unselfish, it stopped her words… her heart.
“This is what we should be doing,” he whispered against her softness. “And I intend to go on doing it for a long, long time.”
Seven
“You never did tell me where Ruby is.”
He shifted his long legs beneath the sheets and found a warmer spot next to hers. “You didn’t ask.” He butted his nose against her jaw.
“I did so.”
“You did I must have had my mind on something else.”
“All you said was that we were alone.”
“Good thing, too.” He chuckled before his mouth settled on hers for a deep, satisfying kiss. “I’m sure that hallway has never seen such excitement.”
She yanked on a chest hair, and he yelped. They laughed together, and when their laughter subsided he said, “Auntie left this morning to sit with a sick friend. She said she might not return until tomorrow. So,” he said, dragging out the word, “tonight we have the whole house to ourselves.”
“But we’re not using the whole house, only this bed.”
“That’s the general idea.”
Their lips met. The kiss was soft and sweet. His lips plucked at hers, and they responded. “I never imagined that I’d be with you this way,” she whispered against his mouth.
“I imagined it. A lot.”
“Well, actually I did imagine it. I just… Oh, you know what I mean.”
“I couldn’t imagine you this way.” He ran his hands over her hips caressingly.
“What do you mean?”
“I couldn’t imagine what your body was like beneath your clothes. I confess that one of my better-developed talents is being able to undress a woman with my eyes.” He frowned. “I couldn’t even begin to undress you, and it drove me nuts. I wanted to know what you were like naked.” His hands moved to her breasts and kneaded them lovingly. “I am delightfully surprised.”
Moving lower, he began loving her breasts with his mouth. Rana laid her hands on either side of his head. His hard jaw was getting bristly from his beard. It rasped pleasantly against her skin.
The rain continued through the night, and so did their lovemaking. Surely no two human beings had ever been more physically compatible. His slightest touch awakened a vibrant sexuality that she hadn’t known she possessed. They made love repeatedly. The mood and tempo varied, but his body never failed to bring hers to a pinnacle of sensation and satisfaction.
Gradually she was overcoming her shyness with him. At first she had been hesitant to initiate anything, even to touch him.
“Lay your hands on my chest,” he urged breathlessly when he surprised her by rolling her atop him. “Touch me. Please touch me.”
She did as he asked, though her touch was tentative. Then she felt the beating of his heart against her palm and she allowed herself to do what she had wanted to do many times. Her hands thoroughly explored his chest. Her fingers combed through the dense hair and investigated the nipples until he was gasping and writhing beneath her.
She could feel him, full and hard, against her middle, and she wanted to know him in the most intimate way. Moving aside, she knelt over him and touched him with her mouth. Trent uttered a hoarse cry. He wound handfuls of her hair around his fists. Her lips and tongue tested his strength delicately, until he could bear no more, and positioned her over him again.
And just when Rana thought there was no more to learn, he would introduce her to an entirely new erotic experience.
Only once during the night were they out of harmony with each other, and that was when he reached for the lamp on the bedside table.
“No!” She reacted violently, and drew the sheet up over herself.
His amazement showed. “But I want to see you,” he explained tenderly. “I want to see us together.”
“No, please, Trent. If you want me to stay, leave the light off.”
“I don’t understand.” He didn’t. Up until that moment, she had demonstrated a willingness for them to express their mutual feelings in any way. Why the aversion to having the light on? He took her in his arms. “You’re beautiful. I can feel how beautiful you are. Let me see you.”
She snuggled her face against his chest, loving the way its forest of hair felt against her cheeks and lips. “Please, Trent. I like it better dark. Please.”
She knew that her hair was tousled, wild, and abandoned, the way it had often been photographed. Her glasses were still downstairs in her purse. And though she had gained some weight, her body would look much as it did in print ads and commercials, because cameras added pounds.
Tonight was so special. He was loving her without any thought of her appearance. She didn’t want to spoil it by risking discovery now.
Regretfully Trent consented. Later he even found her aversion to having the light on amusing. “I didn’t realize you were so bashful.”
Rana knew he wouldn’t think so if he’d ever been behind the scenes at a fashion show. The haughty models strutted down the runways looking cool, confident, and unruffled, while backstage, pandemonium reigned. She had often been stripped even as she switched hats and earrings.
Other hands had dressed and undressed her as many times as she had herself. One couldn’t be self-conscious about nakedness and work with designers, seamstresses, and photographers. Their touches were so impersonal, soon she had ceased to be aware of them. Her mother had never been one to show any affection.
Perhaps that was why Rana had responded so urgently and rapidly to Trent ’s touch, she thought. Oh, yes, she must be starved for the loving touch of another human being. If he wanted to think her bashful, she would let him.
“Does it surprise you that I’m so sh
y?”
“Frankly, yes. Especially since you’ve been married.” He strummed her back for a few moments, then asked, “Can you tell me about that or is it too painful a subject?”
“It was, but it ended so long ago that sometimes I think it happened to someone else. I was fresh out of high school.”
“He was your high-school sweetheart?”
“Something like that.”
Actually, they had dated only several months before they got married. Patrick, like most young men, had been dazzled by her. But she had managed to break through the barrier of his awe, and she and Patrick had fallen into an idealistic, immature kind of Love.
Susan was already talking about a move to New York and planning how to coordinate Rana’s career with a few years of college. Rana resisted. She wanted a career, because she loved beautiful clothes and couldn’t imagine anything better than getting paid for modeling them. But she didn’t want a career orchestrated by her mother, a career that would exclude everything else, especially Patrick.
So she had talked him into a whirlwind marriage. It was a desperate attempt on Rana’s part to escape her mother’s clutches. When Susan heard their plans, she had been furious. But she was a relentless, cunning fighter. Instead of refusing to let them marry, she permitted it.
From the outset, she smothered the young couple, advising on this, arranging that, until Patrick felt useless and emasculated. The final blow to his ego came when Susan intervened with the personnel manager at a company where he had applied for employment.
Rana, admitting to herself that she had used him abominably, and knowing how unhappy their marriage was making him, had offered him a way out. He readily took it.
Six months after the wedding, the marriage ended in divorce. Rana and her mother moved to New York as soon as arrangements could be made. In the long run Susan got exactly what she wanted.
“He was very sweet,” Rana told Trent now. “Good and kind to me. But it was doomed from the beginning.”
“Why?”
“My mother was constantly butting in, and my husband wanted to live his own life.”
“Your mother? You’ve never mentioned any living relatives.”
“We’re not very close. Not any longer.”
“Are you close to anyone, Ana?” he asked, his tone of voice soft.
The conversation was getting too personal, and she didn’t want that. She looked up at him with a mischievous smile and tiptoed her fingers down his front. “Right now, I’m very close to you.”
He grunted with pleasure and lowered his mouth to hers.
Later, as she dozed, he went downstairs and made scrambled eggs and bacon. He carried the meal up on a tray. If the rattling dishes hadn’t awakened her, the tantalizing aromas would have. She sat up, blinking sleep from her eyes.
“Hungry?” he asked with a grin when he saw that she was awake.
“Starving, though I didn’t realize it until now.”
He set the tray on the bed and tossed her one of his shirts. “May I turn the light on now?” he asked after she slipped the shirt on and modestly closed a few of the buttons.
She reached for her purse, which he had had the foresight to bring up along with her panties, and took out the tinted glasses. “Yes,” she answered, putting them on.
“Do you have to?” he asked, nodding toward the glasses.
“Do you want me to dribble orange juice all over your bed?”
He winked. “That might be kinda kinky.”
She let his remark pass as a joke and was glad that he didn’t pursue the topic of the glasses. Eagerly they attacked the food.
“You know, don’t you, that you had me ranting and raving?” he said, biting into a last piece of toast.
She set her coffee cup back in its saucer and moved the tray aside. She had cleaned her plate and was now reclining against the pillows he had piled behind her.
“Over what?”
“Over your sudden disappearance. I nearly went crazy worrying about you.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t say good-bye. There wasn’t time.”
“Was that the only reason you didn’t see me before you left?”
“What other reason could there be?”
“Things were getting pretty hot in the greenhouse. And I don’t mean that in meteorological terms.” He took her hand and rubbed his thumb over the ridge of her knuckles. “If Ruby hadn’t called you to the phone, I think I would have taken you right there in the dirt. Love among the blooms. Hothouse romance.” He was teasing, but he grew serious when he asked, “Were you running from something you couldn’t handle, Ana? From me?”
“Possibly. I don’t know. In any event, you caught me, didn’t you?”
“You needed to be caught, Miss Ramsey.”
“Needed to be?” She cocked her head to one side.
“Uh-huh,” he said, leaning back and propping himself up on his elbows, not realizing how complacent he looked. He had pulled on a pair of shorts when he went downstairs, but they only emphasized his sex. Right then he epitomized male smugness. “I think you’ve needed a man for a long time, someone to scratch that itch you had, someone to satisfy your dark, secret desires.”
“And you filled the bill?” she asked carefully.
By way of an answer, he shrugged. That self-satisfied expression on his face said it all.
Rana sprang off the bed so quickly that he didn’t have time to react until she was out the door and halfway across the hall. “What’s the matter? Where are you going?”
She spun around and confronted him, enraged. “I don’t need anybody, Mr. Gamblin. Especially a man who makes love to me out of a sense of pity!”
“Pity! What the hell are you talking about?”
“Figure it out.” She stamped into her room and slammed the door, locking it quickly. The thought that his lovemaking had been a charitable act wasn’t to be borne. She had come home feeling lonely and desperate. He had lent her comfort and she had grasped at it. Had his loving been no more than a means of rejuvenating poor Miss Ramsey, lifting her out of the depths of despair?
He rattled the door angrily and banged against it with his fists. “Open this door.”
“Go away.”
“I’m warning you.”
“I said to go away!”
“If you don’t open this door, I’ll tear it down, and you’ll have to tell Ruby how it happened.”
“Your threats of brute force don’t frighten me.”
Perhaps they should have. The next sound she heard was the crashing of the door against the wall as he shoved it open. Instinctively she cowered, crossing her arms over her chest. He grabbed her by the shoulders, jerked her up so that her toes were barely touching the floor, and shook her.
“You’re the most stubborn woman I’ve ever known. Pity!” he scoffed. “Darling, no one carries pity that far. Don’t you know love when you see it?”
She had been holding herself rigid. Now she went limp in his arms. “Love?” she repeated weakly.
“Yes, love,” he said, bobbing his head. “Ever heard of it? I love you, and you know what? It scares the hell out of me. I’ve never been so gut-twisted in all my life. You’ve rung my chimes worse than any linebacker ever did. I haven’t known whether I was coming or going. I’ve never felt like this, been this much out of control. I’ve never been more miserable or felt so damn good. It’s terrible.”
He demonstrated just how terrible it was by sealing her surprised mouth with his. Walking her backward, he maneuvered them to the sofa. Still holding her against him, he fell onto it. His hands had no regard for his own shirt. He tore it open, freeing her breasts for the wild caresses of his mouth. Just as frantically, he rid himself of his shorts.
Their union was swift. He secured himself deep inside her. Only then did he become still, while the heat within him simmered. His lips flirted with her ear, and he rasped, “In case I haven’t yet made myself clear, I love you. Here’s how much.” He began to move.
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She enfolded him with her limbs, with her heart. When the tumult came, it was explosive. They didn’t recover from it for a long time.
Rana closed her eyes and let the shower’s spray pound over her body. She washed carefully, lathering more lavishly than usual and sliding her hands over her body with an appreciation for it she had never had before. She was acutely aware of each sensation. What did her skin feel like to Trent? She tried to imagine, smiling as she recalled every adoring word he had whispered as he loved her.
He had been disappointed when, after a nap on her couch, she had suggested that he return to his own room.
“Why?” he had asked, snuggling closer. “I like it here. And here. And here.” With caressing hands he indicated all the parts of her body he loved.
She swatted his hands away before they got the best of her common sense. “Ruby might come back at any time. What if she checks up on us and finds us together?”
“What if she does? I’m a big boy.”
“Hm, I’ll say.” She sighed, caressing him.
His sigh turned into a groan of arousal. “Darlin’, that’s not a very good way of talking me into leaving. Or did you change your mind?” He eased her onto her back as his mouth reached for hers.
“No, I didn’t change my mind.” She shoved him away, and he had to jump to his feet or lose his balance and roll off the couch.
“How about a quick shower?” he suggested as she pushed him toward the door.
“How about a long one?”
“You mean it?” he said, his face lighting up.
“Alone.”
“Oh.” His smile collapsed. “Do you want to jog first?”
“You go ahead without me. I don’t have the energy.”
That brought his smile back. “I feel like I could climb Mount Everest or take on all the Pittsburgh Steelers or slay a dragon.” He kissed her hard and swiftly before leaving.
Now, stepping from the shower, Rana played that scene again in her head, as she had recalled every precious second of the night since he had first taken her in his arms. She went over every word, every touch. She relished them, treasuring them, because she had never known a love like this.