by Susan Napier;Kathryn Ross;Kelly Hunter;Sandra Marton;Katherine Garbera;Margaret Mayo
“Hell, yes. Dammit, Jayne. For the first time I’m willing to break my own company rules.”
“I know. It means something, but not enough. Even though I’m blaming the island resort, that’s not what’s wrong with me.”
“What is it then?”
“I believe in love and want a family. And you don’t.”
“Would it help if I lied to you?”
“God, no.”
“Then I don’t know what you want. I do know if we both crawl into that bed together the point will be moot.”
“Really?”
He raised one eyebrow. “Now who’s not being honest?”
Swallowing carefully around her tight throat, she realized that maybe that was why she’d been standing out here waiting for him to return. She wanted to force him to make a decision. And maybe force herself to make one, as well.
“You’re right. I guess that’s why I left before.”
“Don’t think about it too much, chère. This isn’t something either of us is used to or can control.”
“It’s magic, isn’t it, Adam?”
He pulled her into his arms and lowered his head. “You’re the magic.”
Adam scooped Jayne up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom. Her mouth moved under his with a tentative sweetness he knew was branding him deep in his soul. She let him set the pace, and that was so different from the feisty woman he’d come to know. But he didn’t question it.
He set her on her feet and framed her face in his hands. Forcing her head back with the motion of his, he compelled her mouth open. Her tongue greeted his with a tentative foray, but Adam was past the point of foreplay.
He had an erection that was almost painful, and he desperately needed to be inside of Jayne’s body. He needed to spread her bare on the bed and then taste every inch of her from head to heels. And only when she’d reached the same fevered pitch that burned through him would he move up over her and claim her as his own.
He left her lips and let his mouth slide down the side of her neck, encountering that thick terry-cloth robe once again. He set her on her feet next to the bed and reached out to turn on the lamp on the nightstand.
He undid the sash at her waist and pulled back the terry cloth, expecting to find her slim, curvy body. Instead he found a large T-shirt with the resort’s logo printed on it.
“What are you wearing?” he asked, the clothing jarring him from the sensual spell he was weaving them both in.
She shrugged. “Something to sleep in.”
“I know I ordered a nightgown for you.”
“You ordered something for me to wear to bed with a lover.”
“Then why aren’t you wearing it?” he asked. But in his heart he knew the answer. She’d thought he’d used her to make Ray believe they were a couple. She’d thought he could call passion and interest from his body at will. She’d thought he’d been using her, and she didn’t want to be exposed in front of him.
That hurt him in a place he didn’t even like to acknowledge he had—his heart. So he ignored that and focused instead on the woman. He would use his skills as a lover to make up for the hurt and pain he’d caused her.
“Why are you making a federal case out of this, honeybun?” she asked in that smart-ass way of hers.
He had to hide a smile because he knew she sassed him only when she was uncertain. And he didn’t want Jayne to be unsure of him in the bedroom, or of herself. To his knowledge she hadn’t dated anyone in the last eight months since she’d started working for him. He tucked that tidbit away for later.
Right now, he set about seducing her with all the skill he’d learned since he was a boy on the cusp of manhood. Skills he’d first honed to keep from feeling alone, and then later used so that he didn’t have to feel anything other than physical gratification with women. Lately those skills had made him feel jaded. But tonight he was glad for the knowledge, because the only thing that mattered was giving the most pleasure he could to Jayne.
He leaned down, scraping his teeth against the side of her neck and then nibbling at the tender flesh there. Her taste was addictive. Instead he lingered there as if he’d been famished for a long time and she was a full-course meal.
Her hands clutched at his shoulders, fingernails scoring him through the cloth of his shirt. He lifted his head and started unbuttoning it. When he shrugged out of it he felt her appreciative gaze on his body.
“Like what you see?”
“It’s okay,” she said, and when he started toward her with mock menace, she giggled. Really giggled, and despite the ache in his groin, he felt lighter than ever before.
He scooped her up in his arms and dropped her on the bed. “Let’s see if I can change your mind, shall we?”
“It’s going to take some work on your part,” she said, rolling onto her side and propping her head up on her elbow.
“I’d probably work harder if you showed me a little flesh.”
She bit her lip and then lifted the hem of her shirt a little so that it rested on the top of her thighs. “How’s this?”
“You’ve got great legs, chère. But…”
She lifted the shirt quickly and flashed him. He had a brief image of a nest of brown, curly hair at the apex of her thighs and a smooth flat stomach. Unless he was mistaken he’d seen a birthmark on her left hip. He reached under the shirt and rubbed the spot.
“What’s this?”
“Tattoo,” she said.
“Show me?”
“What are you going to show me?”
“I’m already bare-chested.”
“So, convince me,” she said.
He sat sideways on the bed, his hips resting next to her stomach. He took her hand from where it gripped the hem of her shirt, bringing it to his mouth. He nibbled the tip of each finger and then kissed the palm of her hand.
He took her hand and stroked it down his body, rubbing her fingers over his sensitive skin. He hardened even more and tried to shift on the bed to relieve some of the pressure between his legs. Damn. He should have removed his pants.
While her hand explored his chest, her fingernails scraped down the center of his body. He lifted her T-shirt and then bent down to examine her tattoo. It was a pretty little flower that wasn’t open, but tightly closed, and a drop of rain lay on the leaf below it.
He traced the pattern with his tongue. Later he’d question her about it, but now he was too close to her body. He could smell the scent of her arousal, and a red mist settled over him. He wanted her, dammit.
He ached to have her.
“Convinced?” he asked, but his voice now was little more than a growl.
She looked up at him from under her lashes. “I’m naked under this shirt.”
“Hot damn.”
She threw her head back and laughed. He gave up all pretense of playing games, shedding his pants and briefs in one quick motion.
He took the hem of her shirt and pulled it up over her head, tossing it aside. His breath caught in his throat when she lay spread before him in the golden glow of the lamp. She shone with an effervescence he wanted to claim for himself. But he knew at best all he’d have were these moments in her bed.
First Adam caressed her with his eyes and his words. “You’re the most exquisite woman I’ve ever seen.”
And when he looked at her the way he was now, she felt as if she really were. For the first time in her life, she didn’t feel plain and ordinary. A flush spread over her body and she pushed her shoulders back against the bed, thrusting her breasts into greater prominence.
“Your skin is like the sunrise, warm and golden. And my fingers ache to touch you.”
“I ache to be touched,” she replied.
He smiled softly in acknowledgment. Then he bent over her, tracing the line of her body with his hands. His touch was so light it felt like a breeze, and she thought she was imagining it. But when he paused to explore her belly button she knew it was real.
He licked a path
straight down her center, but when he reached her pubic hair he turned his attention to her thigh, nibbling his way down her left leg and then back up her right.
He avoided the areas of her body that ached most for his contact. Her nipples stood erect waiting for his mouth, but each time he came close he didn’t touch them. She writhed on the bed.
He stopped and lingered at her tattoo. With his tongue he traced the pattern again, over and over until she reached down, tunneling her fingers through his hair and holding him to her.
Her tattoo was a big part of who she was—a reminder that she never wanted to be a blossom that had bloomed too many times, like her mother. Jayne had had it done when she was seventeen. It had been painful, but she’d learned that most things in life were.
Adam lifted his head, watching her. He palmed both of her breasts, rubbing their centers in a circular motion until her hips lifted from the bed. His hands moved downward then, skimming her sides and squeezing her hips.
She was helpless to do anything but lie there like a sexual feast prepared for his delight. He stood over her like a god from ancient times. He was like a powerful and successful warrior, she realized, and as she studied him she saw another scar. Unlike the small mark near his nipple, this one ran across his lower belly and down his hip.
She touched the scar gently, tracing over lines that were white with age. He reached down and moved her hand away, bringing her touch instead to his pectorals. How many times had she sat in the boardroom and imagined opening his shirt and touching him?
Now she could. And she did, leaving no area unexplored. She scored his chest with his fingernails when he reached the center of her body, tracing a path with one blunt finger, then dipping inside to test her warmth.
He stretched her carefully, adding a second finger to her opening. She clenched around him, needing more. He bent and she felt the brush of his breath for a second before his tongue tickled her bud.
His fingers moved inside her and his tongue continued its relentless assault until her hips bucked and she grabbed his head, holding him to her hot body. Her orgasm when it broke over her left her convulsing around him.
Sweat gleamed on her skin and she throbbed from head to toe. She tugged him up over her, skimming her hands down his back. “My turn.”
She pushed against him until he was on his back, then knelt next to him on the bed. She kissed him first, exploring that bold, sensual mouth. She could taste herself on him, and it made her feel a little wicked and naughty. And deep in her center she felt an answering pulse.
She scratched his small nipple carefully with her fingernail. He closed his eyes and then reached for her hand, smoothing open her palm and rubbing it over his nipple the way he always caressed her. She watched as his own back arched and his hips jerked toward her.
She took his hard length in her hand. He was hot to her touch and hard. Grasping him at the root, she circled him with her hand and stroked him.
She brought her other arm down and reached between his legs to cup him, squeezing gently until she felt a spurt of moisture at his tip. She rubbed at it with her finger.
Glancing up at him, she realized he was watching her. She lifted her finger to her lips and licked away his taste.
Something primitive lit in his eyes and he rolled over, taking her beneath him. He pinned her to the bed with his hips, his member hot and hard at her entrance. She groaned at the feel of him there and couldn’t help thrusting her hips toward him.
He held her still and rubbed his length against her. It felt good, but she was still so empty, and desperately needed him inside her.
With a muttered curse, he pushed away from her. “Are you on the pill?”
She blinked a few times before she understood what he was asking. “Yes.”
“Thank God. I hate condoms.”
“Me, too,” she said. She preferred skin to skin. Especially with Adam.
“I’m healthy,” he muttered as he shifted on the bed. He draped her legs over his arms and pushed them back toward her body. “Okay?”
It was way more than okay, but she couldn’t speak. He was at her entrance, pushing inside her. He thrust forward until he was fully seated. She relaxed her lower body, trying to take him deeper, and was rewarded when he slipped in farther.
He kissed her, his tongue thrusting into her mouth in the same rhythm as his body took hers. She was on fire and there was little she could do but lay beneath him, an instrument of his pleasure. She’d never had an orgasm more than once in an evening and didn’t expect it to be different with Adam.
But then she felt that tingling at the center of her body that signaled one was coming. She gripped Adam’s shoulders, digging her nails into his back as her entire body started to throb and clench around him. When she came this time lights flashed before her eyes, and she felt Adam’s body empty into hers at the moment consciousness dimmed.
He roared her name and then continued to thrust a few more times before pulling her into his arms and rolling to his side.
She couldn’t think and could barely breathe. But her heart overflowed with emotions and she realized that despite what she’d said earlier at dinner, having a family was no longer her heart’s desire. Having Adam in her life forever was.
Chapter Eight
Adam woke up alone in bed. The sunlight streamed through the open window and the sound of the surf called him. For a moment he didn’t remember where he was, but then the bathroom door creaked open and Jayne tiptoed across the floor.
“Come back to bed, chère.”
“In a minute.”
She went to the wardrobe and tucked something into one of her drawers. Once again she was wearing that heavy terry-cloth robe. Her lips were still swollen from his kisses and her eyes had a lambent light in them as she gazed at him.
He knew he was existing in a kind of limbo, but he didn’t care. He’d taken Jayne to his bed and it was too late to go back. Hell, he wouldn’t even if he could.
Standing next to his side of the bed, she dropped her robe, revealing the naked curves of her body. It was a perfect form, but he’d never been as aroused by just the sight of a woman as he was with Jayne.
Reaching up, he traced her side from her shoulder to her waist, lingering on the tattoo on her hip. Jayne had never struck him as a tattoo person.
“When did you get this?”
“I’ll tell you if you take off the sheet,” she said.
He was willing to play along. “It had better be a good tale.”
“I’ll make it worth your while,” she said.
There was something about Jayne in this mood that intrigued him. She glowed, though maybe that was from the early morning sun streaming into the room. However, her smile was brighter, and that had nothing to do with Mother Nature. Maybe something to do with him?
He gripped her hips and drew her forward. He didn’t want to hurt her. Not that he ever intended to hurt the women in his life, but for some reason he’d never really been able to get things right with females.
Sitting up, he wrapped his arms around her and rested his head against her breast. He heard her heart beating strongly under his ear. His vision was filled with her creamy curves and one pale pink nipple.
“Tell me,” he whispered against her flesh. And then watched as her nipple budded and her hands tightened in his hair.
“I got it when I was seventeen.”
“Wait,” he said. After placing a kiss on her breast, he piled all the pillows behind his back and kicked the sheets to the foot of the bed. Then, grabbing her by the waist, he leaned back, lifting her up over his body. “Now tell me,” he said.
“I can’t talk now,” she said, her voice breathless. She rubbed herself sinuously against him, her warmth sliding over his erection and her nipples brushing his chest.
And he didn’t want to talk, either. Later he’d find out the story of why she’d gotten that tattoo and discover the source of that mysterious light inside Jayne. But right now he needed h
er.
She tipped her head back, bracing her hands on his shoulders, and lifted just the tiniest bit. Sliding his hands between their bodies, he positioned himself.
She opened her eyes and looked right at him. As she slowly sank down on his hard-on. Adam knew he’d never be the same. Her dewy center caressed him like a velvet glove. She paused once he was fully sheathed, and squeezed him with her inner muscles.
When he groaned her name, she smiled. She relished her power over him. “Like hearing me moan?”
She bit her bottom lip as he took her breasts in his hands, pinching her nipples carefully and then scraping them with his thumbnails. She moaned and her hips flexed against his. He soothed the small pain with his palm before angling his head and sucking one nipple into his mouth.
Her hands left his shoulders to hold his head to her. She rocked slowly over him and he knew she wasn’t torturing him this time, but simply lost in the sensations he was calling forth.
“Moan for me,” he said against her skin, nibbling his way to her other nipple and suckling there.
“Not yet,” she said, and pushed him back against the pillows. She braced her hands against his chest, nails scoring his skin mildly. And she lifted herself off of him. She let him slide all the way out of her body, and paused while he hovered at her entrance.
He wanted to let her run the show, but enough was enough. Adam yearned for her with a desperation he would never acknowledge. He longed to once again bathe in her warmth and forget about the hunger that had been festering in him for too long.
Wrapping one arm around her, he thrust upward with his hips, then rolled them both over so that she was under him.
“Hey, I was in charge,” she said, but her eyes drifted closed as he started thrusting inside her.
When her back arched to receive each of his thrusts, the slim expanse of her neck was revealed and he lowered his head to suckle at the point where her collarbone met it.
Her hands moved up and down his back. She clenched him with her muscles deep inside every time he retreated, and from her mouth came a litany that was his name.
Stroking her back, he took the full curves of her butt in his hands and caressed the crease. She arched toward him, seeking her release. With a thousand electric sparks, Adam felt his own climax sweep over him in one continuous wave, and after that he couldn’t move. Lowering his head, he rested it on her chest and held her. She clutched him to her breast and didn’t say a word. But Adam knew that something had happened between them and that the world outside had changed for them, as well.