by Deb Stover
"You're beautiful," he murmured, kissing her tenderly. In that suspended moment, she surrendered. Denying this was futile, regardless of the consequences. Coming into his room tonight had been the hardest thing she'd ever done, but also the most irresistible.
This moment was sacred–not something to be taken lightly. A hush of anticipation dawned as he lifted his face to meet her gaze for a few precious seconds. What was the emotion she saw blazing in his eyes? It made her stomach knot and her breath become imprisoned in her throat as she drowned in his gaze.
She was hot–hotter than she'd ever been. She coiled into a tight, rigid sprocket of expectation. Her breasts ached for more of his touch.
He slipped the T-shirt over her head and rolled her onto her back as he kissed each newly exposed portion of skin. Gently, he lowered his head to tickle the plain between her breasts with his tongue, making her groan in contemplation of more. Much more.
Hovering over her, he stroked the curve of her thigh, sensuously easing his hand farther down. We're naked. She quivered against him, glorying in the feel of his warm skin against hers.
"Are you a dream, or are you real?" he whispered.
"If this is a dream, don't wake me," she breathed, imprisoned by the intensity of his gaze.
Poised over her for a moment of sheer torture, he continued to stare. With trembling hands, she reached out to touch the taut, warm skin of his bare chest.
He pulled her against him, his furred chest tickling her upthrust nipples. His erection pressed insistently against her hip, making her clench against the agonizing emptiness of her womb. She wanted him. All of him. And she couldn't help but notice that ten years had made a significant difference in many things.
Yes, Gordon Lane had grown up in every way.
Taylor willed all reservations away as passion grew, possessed and controlled her every thought and action. He ran his tantalizing fingers along her upper arms, then spread his hands flat against her rib-cage. He lightly stroked her waist and hips, bending to kiss the curve of her shoulder.
This was the Gordon she remembered. He worshipped her as he loved her, making each caress, each kiss, even more potent. More delicious.
Tracing circles around his flat nipple with her tongue, she felt it harden to a tiny nub. She stroked and kneaded his lower back, moving downward until his muscular butt seared the palms of her hands.
He growled low in his throat and pressed the evidence of his arousal against her hip more firmly. A physical pain of desire gripped her with a need so profound she nearly wept from its intensity.
His lips covered hers as he took her head between his large hands almost savagely, tipping her head back as his tongue thrust into her mouth. She returned his passionate kiss, savored and cherished it, spiraling toward a pit of rapture like nothing she'd ever known before.
Even with Gordon. This was different than the fumbling, exploratory lovemaking of their youth. They were adults who knew what they wanted and how to give and take.
And this was so much more than sex. Taylor's heart filled her chest with joy and an exquisite ache. God, how she loved this man. What a fool she'd been. So many lost years...
But now was what mattered. She didn't care if this was right or wrong–and how could it be anything but right? She embraced this joy in the midst of all the pain and confusion. Gordon was strong and loving and gentle. She needed this. Needed him.
He withdrew his mouth from hers, lingered above her to stare for a long, silent moment. His hands touched her belly, then fanned upward to tease the tender undersides of her breasts. An untamed, primal yearning pounded a constant cadence in her body. She curled her legs around his and pulled him against her.
"Too soon," he murmured, obviously intent on torture with his dallying.
He kissed his way downward. His whiskered chin scraped against her ultra-sensitive breasts until his lips opened moist and feverish to taste her nipple. First he teased, then suckled firmly until she moaned aloud from the wonder of it all.
He eased one hand down her hip and pressed against the hard mound where her curling dark hair began. She gasped in anticipation and need.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she clutched his mouth to her breast as his hand slipped between her thighs to explore her most intimate region. He toyed with her, creating a desperate need for more. She felt swollen yet empty until his fingers finally filled her, making her press and arch against him.
Memories fueled her. Other times. Other places. Other moments. The waterfall–their first time. The backseat of his old Jeep. Each time miraculous. Each time an exquisite pearl of a memory she had cherished every day since.
Hungry to relive those moments, she held her breath in anticipation, the need to touch him overpowering her. He gasped as her fingers closed around his smooth-hot erection.
"Easy," he muttered, dragging his mouth from her breast to gaze into her eyes.
His eyes–and other parts of his anatomy–were filled with promise. Taylor's breath caught in her throat as she ran her fingers over his swollen, pulsing manhood. He was so engorged her fingers couldn't completely close around him.
Gordon kissed her again while his fingers continued to dominate her fevered flesh. She moaned and writhed against him, maintaining her grip on his erection as he urged her higher and higher in her crusade for completion.
He left her lips to kiss his way downward again, tarrying to impart equal treatment to both her breasts, licking the sensitive peaks–one, then the other–until Taylor thought she'd go mad. "Please, Gordon. Now."
Chuckling, he kissed his way lower, finally displacing his hand with his hot, seeking mouth. She gasped when his fingers again filled her while his mouth claimed the most sensitive part of her with maddening tenacity. Blackness surrounded her as he took her closer and closer to a pinnacle of joy she wanted so much she felt like screaming.
When at last she exploded, thrusting herself against his warm, wonderful mouth, she separated from her body. She became a billion minuscule fragments floating lingeringly back to earth, each particle stunned, filled with a perfect contentment.
Though even in that moment of bliss, she knew there was more. Much more.
Growling, Gordon slid back up her body. She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him closer. A hunger like nothing she'd ever imagined coiled inside her, making her arch and moan.
Finally, he pressed himself against her and she opened like a flower to the sun, starving for full possession and the fulfillment he promised. "Gordon," she whimpered, and was rewarded with a guttural and supremely sexual sound from deep in his chest as he filled her.
Full. Complete. Whole. She didn't breathe for several seconds as she reveled in the wonder of their union. She'd never felt so complete. This was so right. So perfect. She wriggled against him, trying to take even more of him into her.
He froze above her. "Be still," he warned in a raspy voice. "I want this to last. Forever."
Forever. Murmuring her agreement against his chest, she tried to keep from moving, but her body seemed intent on following its natural instincts. She constricted around him
–couldn't get enough of him.
He moved against her at last and she gasped with wonder. Angling her hips, she met him thrust for thrust–savored each glorious moment as she spiraled ever-upward. This man was Gordon. Her Gordon. At least, for now.
An inferno built within her, so powerful, so all-encompassing, it would have to burn itself out. Only the man who'd set the blaze could extinguish it.
She bit her lower lip until she tasted blood as he moved faster and harder. Her body swallowed and accommodated his with a voraciousness that stunned her. She rose higher and higher until she exploded beneath and around him. Her face felt numb and tingly as all her blood rushed to fulfill nature's most powerful sensation.
He tensed against her, she felt him throb and pulse with life as he came into her. A perverse sense of power washed through her and she clung to him in pure, unin
hibited, carnal bliss.
The desire to possess Gordon Lane again had been more powerful than anything she'd ever felt in her entire life. Even more devastating than the urge to run away all those years ago. She kissed his sweat-slick shoulder.
"Taylor...." His voice was low and husky as he drew a ragged breath and released it into her hair. "Taylor."
He rolled to his side and ran his hand along the curve of her hip. "I...I..."
"Shh." She pressed a finger to his lips. "This was something we couldn't have prevented if we'd tried." She smiled slowly. "And I'm very glad it happened."
Gordon gazed into her eyes. She saw a hint of hesitation in the aqua depths. She recognized it and wondered about its source.
"What's wrong?" she asked, then wished she hadn't. Nothing should be permitted to decimate this moment. It was too perfect. Was...
"I'm sorry." He shook his head. "I have condoms in the nightstand, but..." With a sigh, he pulled her against him and kissed the top of her head. "I couldn't think of anything but being with you, inside you again."
"Neither of us thought." She stroked the fine hairs at his nape. "Just like our first time."
He raised up and gazed down at her, a gentle smile curving his full mouth. "Better."
"Mmm, I think you've learned a few tricks since then," she whispered, "but I've never forgotten that day. I never will."
"Nor will I."
"You're a beautiful man, Gordon Lane."
"Nobody's ever called me beautiful before." He pulled back to scowl at her in mock-indignance. "Handsome, maybe, but definitely not beautiful."
"All of those things. Handsome, beautiful and–" She bit her lower lip. She'd been about to say "mine." The thought that something so important could come so easily to her lips was terrifying. "I'm sorry."
"For what?" He gently kissed her lips, then raised up again. The glow from the oil lamp cast shadows of light and dark across the planes and angles of his handsome face. "For making love with me?"
"With me," Taylor repeated, warming within. "I like that."
"It's true." His smile lit his eyes. "Only you. Always you."
She tilted her head to one side to gaze into his eyes. Even if she should feel ashamed of the wild abandon she'd shown her lover, she didn't.
Gordon ran his fingers through his hair and chuckled. "You've become a hell-cat in your old age." He gave her a crooked grin when she gasped out loud. "It's true."
Taylor stuttered and felt her face flood with heat. "Hell-cat?" She was stunned yet flattered. "I'm...I'm sorry. I...I had no idea."
"Sorry? Definitely do not be sorry. It was the best–the very best," he vowed, then his expression grew solemn. "Everything I remembered...and so much more."
"Oh, Gordon." Words burned in her heart, begging to be released. "I'm so sorry I left. So very, very sorry. Can you ever forgive me?"
"You're back now," he murmured, kissing her again. "That's all that matters."
Her stomach lurched. Didn't he realize she couldn't stay in Digby? That she had a life and a career waiting for her beyond this small mountain town?
"With your permission and participation," he whispered, "I'd like to find out if the next time can be as incredible as this one was."
"Next time?" She pushed aside thoughts of the future. So she was a hell-cat in bed. Taylor-Polyanna-Bowen? What a surprise. A giggle bubbled up from her chest as his mouth dipped to draw her nipple deep inside, making her laughter seize in her throat. "Gordon," she said quietly, gasping as his teeth grazed the tender nub.
"Something tells me this time will be even better," she whispered, closing her eyes for a moment of total bliss.
Rumbling low in his chest, Gordon lifted his face from her breast to cast her a look of promise and challenge all blended into one pithy glance. Then he pulled her to him and rolled with her until she sat astride his muscular form. "I guarantee it," he promised in a rough voice, cupping both her breasts in his large hands while she leaned forward to meet his insatiable mouth.
Groaning, he propped himself on more pillows. Taylor followed his lead, savoring the feel of his teeth and lips on her tender nipples as he tasted one, then the other.
"Yes, even better." She arched her hips against him, realizing how very ready he was when his erection pulsated against her.
He reached into the nightstand and retrieved a square packet, ripping it open with his teeth. A moment later, he was pressing against her again.
Repositioning herself, she lifted her hips above him until she felt his heavy, throbbing manhood probing her softness. Hard to soft–man to woman. It was an ancient communication of him soliciting entrance and her granting it.
A sense of power filled her as she pressed herself downward, enclosing him with a voraciousness that left her dazed. He moaned beneath her, obviously as stunned as she. Moving slowly against him, she tingled from head to toe as he continued his assault on her aching breasts. They felt heavy and swollen. She braced herself against the headboard and glanced down, noticing her rigid nipples seemed to have doubled in size. She couldn't resist the urge to watch his mouth cover and stroke her delicate flesh, making her insides contort, closing around his erection with even greater urgency.
She'd heard of people who got their thrills from watching themselves with mirrored ceilings and such, but she'd never experienced anything quite like this before. Actually seeing his mouth open, then fuse to her breast made Taylor melt inside. It was so right–so stimulating. He seemed to belong with her...touching her.
Was Gordon Lane still her destiny?
Joy spawned deep in her core and spread throughout her. She became taut and anxious as she neared her completion, continuing to engage and press against his thrusting pelvis.
Growling again, Gordon pressed himself upward and felt her response. He held his breath, hoping to prolong the exquisiteness of being buried deep within this beautiful woman. Taylor. His Taylor.
She was so responsive it was downright dangerous.
But what a way for a man to go.
Slowly, rhythmically, he pressed upward, matching her movements, gasping each time her muscles contorted around him as if to drain him of everything he had. This woman was definitely a hell-cat in bed. He vividly remembered her adolescent passion, but had never suspected anything quite like this. She was made for loving. Made for him.
Dangerous thoughts. He buried them as physical needs overpowered everything else like a volcano building to an eruption greater than any he'd ever known before, even more powerful than their very first time. Taylor had ignited something in him long ago, and now the flames fanned hotter and brighter than ever before. Terrifying.
Fan-damn-tastic.
Climbing, soaring higher with every plunge into her receptive body, Gordon knew he was lost. This woman had touched him right where it troubled most and comforted best. There was no doubt–his wound was mortal.
His Taylor was home. Home at last.
She cried out against him, leaning forward to sink her teeth gently into his shoulder. Elation filled him as he felt her contract around him. No longer struggling to hold himself back, he felt the pressure build. Her feminine muscles swallowed him tighter and deeper with her orgasm, claiming and devouring him as he clenched his teeth and drove upward and into her.
Finally, devastatingly, he burst within her. Like a land mine that had lain silent since Taylor's departure, he'd finally found the trigger to release his pent-up power. Only Taylor. There was no holding back. This was all-out surrender.
He was in deep trouble.
Taylor clung to him, wept against his shoulder. Sweat formed between them as his throbbing subsided, followed by her sigh of contentment that he shared tenfold.
He groaned, releasing her soft breasts as she tightened around him again in a sexual vise that made him want to shout. He'd never experienced anything like this before. Taylor was hot and sweet, like apple pie fresh from the oven.
Like only Taylor could be.
She was everything rolled into one very neat little package. A surge of emotions threatened to evolve into words, but he bit the inside of his cheek to silence them. She slumped against him, showering him with little kisses.
He couldn't let her go again.
Chapter 13
Sue managed to reschedule all of Taylor and Gordon's appointments for the following week, and arranged for a doctor and a vet in Buena Vista to take call for human and animal emergencies. She was on a roll. With any luck at all, Gordon and Taylor were having a wonderful romantic interlude.
During the full moon.
She crossed fingers on both hands for a second, then decided to catch up on her filing while the office was so quiet. The phone rang and she answered on the first ring.
"Sue, it's Priscilla."
"Hi, is Ryan giving you fits already?" School was out today for some obscure reason, and Priscilla Lane was watching Ryan. He'd be out for the summer in two weeks. "Did he bring that mutt with him again? I told him–"
"No, no, it isn't that." The older woman's voice sounded worried. "He ran home to get a video game for this Play Station Gordon set up over here."
Gordon was spoiling Ryan. Sue would have to speak to him about that. "All right."
"He hasn't come back, Sue, and it's still pouring rain."
"Maybe he decided to wait out this latest downpour." Sue worried her lower lip even as she tried to justify Ryan's tardiness. "Did you call the house?"
"Yes, and there was no answer."
"Nobody's here today, so I'll go track him down." Ryan was barely ten–old enough to move around town unsupervised, but young enough for his mother to worry. "I'll call you as soon as I find him."
"And I'll call your house if he shows up here. You know, now that I think about it, he got real quiet after I mentioned Taylor and Gordon being stranded at his cabin."
"Oh?" Sue rubbed her temple, wondering why that information would bother Ryan. Of course, her son thought of Gordon like a father. "Oh, no, I hope he didn't–"
"I'm sure Ryan wouldn't do anything foolish, dear," Priscilla said. "I'll call your house if he turns up back here."