by Kylie Brant
“I still need to put something on your head. Do you have any antiseptic?”
Jackson indicated the medicine cabinet. “You’ll probably find something in there.”
As Kaly rummaged through his shelves, she heard the sound of the jets turning off and of him heaving himself out of the tub. “Jackson!” she scolded, as she felt her cheeks flush.
“You’ll never make a good nurse if you’re embarrassed by the sight of a naked man. I’m decent now, anyway. You can do your worst.”
She snuck a look at him and couldn’t get her breath. What he termed decent was barely that. Clad only in a towel wrapped around his narrow hips, he was seated on the side of the tub, looking a model of patience. The white terry cloth contrasted sharply with the bronzed skin above it. Kaly’s eyes traveled downward, despite herself. His legs were as strongly muscled as the rest of him and covered with a lighter dusting of hair. She actually smiled when her gaze hit his feet. Totally without any tan, they were white, long and bony. The incongruous sight helped her regain some of her equilibrium.
“Did anyone ever tell you that you could win an ugly-feet contest?” she inquired as she crossed to him with a cloth and antiseptic.
Jackson looked hurt. “Is this part of your bedside manner, insulting your patient? The rest of my Adonislike physique cancels out the feet, though, don’t you think?”
Kaly rolled her eyes. “I try not to think around you. Turn your head.” She wet the cloth thoroughly with the medicine and dabbed at his wound.
“Youch!” He ducked his head and tried to pull out of her range. “What are you trying to do—burn me? I may as well go back out and let that guy finish the job.”
“Don’t be such a wimp. Hold still. Try to live up to your he-man image.”
“You’ll see my he-man image before you’re through,” Jackson threatened. “That’s enough!” He grabbed the bottle out of her hand and strode to the counter to put the lid back on it. Then he threw it in the trash.
Kaly preceded him out of the bathroom. “Like I said,” she flung over her shoulder, “a wimp.”
“Well, you must have a thing for wimps, then,” he answered wickedly. “Because you sure do spend a lot of time kissing me.
She cast him an exasperated look. His gratitude hadn’t lasted long. He had already reverted to trying to embarrass her. “I should have let you go into a coma.”
Jackson’s lips quirked at her exaggeration. “Then you could have given me mouth-to-mouth.”
Kaly shook her head. “Some thanks I get for tending to you.”
“I’ll be glad to thank you properly, if you want to step over here.”
She eyed him, askance. “No thanks,” she drawled. “I’m not stupid.”
He chuckled and she continued warningly, “Either you put some clothes on or I’m leaving. Don’t you have pajamas or something?”
Jackson looked at her wickedly. “I never wear pajamas, but I’m eager to please. If you don’t like the towel, I can always take it off.” His hand went to the knot securing it to his hip.
Kaly crossed to his bureau and opened three drawers before finding one containing clean jeans. She pulled out a pair and threw them to him. “Put these on,” she ordered, while she turned her back to him. Her senses became excruciatingly acute, and she was aware of the exact moment his towel hit the floor. Her ears tingled at the sound of denim being pulled up long, lean legs. The sound of the zipper being raised sent heat throughout her body. Her fertile imagination supplied her mind with details of the reverse striptease taking place behind her, and Kaly felt her body warm in accordance with her thoughts.
“All done.”
His voice startled her and she jumped guiltily, aware of where her thoughts were leading her. She whirled around and her eyes went immediately, involuntarily, to his zipper. He hadn’t buttoned the pants, and a fascinating line of hair arrowed enticingly toward the waistband of his jeans and disappeared below.
Jackson noted Kaly’s heightened color and wondered at its cause. “Are you all right?”
Her gaze bounced back toward him. “I’m fine…fine.” She forced her eyes away from him and, noticing a set of French doors on one wall said, “Oh, I didn’t know you had a terrace off your room.” She could have bitten off her tongue when Jackson gave her a quizzical look.
He gestured for her to precede him and they stepped through the doors. The terrace was on the back side of the house and overlooked several of Peg’s prize rose gardens. Though the flowers were shrouded in darkness now, their fragrance wafted gently toward them on the cool night breeze.
“Shouldn’t you call Jeff and Carrie and tell them about this latest development?” she asked.
“No sense disturbing them this late. I’ll tell them when they come back tomorrow.”
Kaly turned to face him. “If you’re not in the hospital by then. I’m still not convinced you don’t need to see a doctor.”
“I’m fine. The headache’s about gone.”
She subsided. It was difficult to make conversation when her mind refused to work. Every sense, every nerve, was attuned to Jackson’s nearness. Even the air seemed endowed with current, quietly humming, the growing tension impossible to disregard. She moved uneasily, seeking a return to a more prosaic footing between them, but she was suddenly as tongue-tied as a teenager.
Jackson was aware of her unease. It mirrored his own unrest and magnified it. His large hands clenched the railing as the strain on his tenuous control increased. Her shallow breathing tautened him, drawing a like response. He wished mightily for a cigarette. Never had his body gotten into such a state merely from a woman’s nearness. He didn’t understand it, didn’t welcome it, but this heightened awareness had been an aspect of their relationship since he’d first seen her. Trying to deny himself the touch and taste of her was playing hell with his libido.
He turned his head to study her. There was just enough moonlight to highlight her features; much of her body was left in mysterious shadow. God, she was lovely. Those eyes shocked him anew each time they met his, their green depths mystical, challenging. He watched the tip of her tongue come out to moisten her lips and wondered if he was making her nervous with his intent perusal.
This is a mistake, his mind whispered, no, shouted at him. The thin veneer of civility didn’t run very deeply in him at the best of times, and the events of the night had combined to strip away his last vestiges of acceptable behavior. He needed time and solitude to replace the cool control he normally exuded. He knew he was going to get neither.
“Did you have a good time with Scott tonight?” he asked abruptly.
Kaly blinked at his sudden change of topic. “Yes, I did. Larry’s very nice,” she answered defensively. She seized on his conversation, welcomed it. Even an argument would be better than this unending tension sizzling between them.
He snorted. “No man wants to be known as ‘nice.’”
“I’m sure you’ll never have to worry about it,” she said dryly. “You fit a lot of adjectives, but that isn’t one that springs immediately to mind.”
“Good.” His low voice sounded satisfied. “I’d hate to have to settle for it. ‘Nice’ doesn’t describe a man who can make a woman burn with desire.” He moved closer to her, taking both her elbows loosely in his hands. Her head fell back and she looked up at him, and Jackson bent toward her as he whispered raspily, “Was it ‘nice’ dancing with me tonight?”
Kaly’s gaze was unwavering. “No,” she whispered, remembering the heat, the excitement they’d shared on the dance floor earlier.
“How about the way you feel when I touch you?” he continued huskily. “Would you call that ‘nice’?”
Kaly shook her head mutely, her gaze still entwined with his. Hot. Passionate. Desirable. Sexy. All those words described the way she felt every time Jackson touched her. He demanded strong emotions from people; he was not an easy man to be around. The force of his personality was too strong, his sexuality too apparent for t
hat.
Jackson brought his lips so close to hers that they touched as he spoke. “And I’ll bet there will be nothing ‘nice’ about this, either.” His lips brushed hers, once, twice, before settling firmly. He pressed her lips apart and she met him in an openmouthed kiss that quickly ignited their hunger.
One taste of her. That’s all it took to fan the ever-present embers of passion to a raging inferno inside him. He tilted back a little, putting her off balance, so that she was forced to lean into him. Kaly wound her arms around him, one hand on his shoulder and the other twined in his damp hair. He cupped her derriere with one large palm and pulled her closer, pressing her against his rapidly swelling desire.
Fire. Kaly felt a scorching ball whirl crazily in her abdomen, before shooting upward and exploding in her heart. Tiny shards of flame were flung haphazardly within, spreading rapidly to the core of her femininity. She should have been shocked at his physical reaction to her, disgusted at his blatancy, but she reveled in the proof of her effect on him. Unconsciously she moved nearer, delighting in the feel of his body against hers.
Hunger, barely leashed and insatiable, taunted Jackson into asking for more, indulging a bit longer. An ache, long denied and always present, sprang quickly from dormancy and threatened to engulf him. He made a rough sound deep in his throat as he felt the edges of reason fade away, as the world narrowed until it contained only him and the woman in his arms. He pressed kiss after intoxicating kiss against her sweet mouth and felt himself drawn even tighter as she reciprocated.
Kaly gasped as his avid mouth moved to the sensitive spot beneath her ear. It was happening again, the dark magic that so easily entrapped them, propelling them quickly to passion. She felt helpless beneath the onslaught of emotion brought on by his nearness, fueled by his kisses. She shuddered as he nipped, then soothed the area with his tongue. Impatient, she pulled him back to her lips, not caring that he chuckled silently at her eagerness. She wanted to make him feel the same way she did. She wanted him shaking, wanting, just as she was. Kaly embarked on a sensuous journey with her mouth, instinctively remembering what made him lose control. Her tongue skated along the ridges of his teeth, probing beyond them shyly. She flicked the sensitive roof of his mouth and sucked delicately at his tongue.
Jackson shuddered at her sensuous assault. She felt too good in his arms. He knew he was rapidly approaching the end of his control. He pulled his head away, avoiding her mouth as it followed his movement. “No, Kaly,” he said, his voice a guttural rasp. “Listen. I’m not going to stop this time.” He waited until her eyes fluttered open and comprehension slowly returned to them. His body screamed in protest as he continued inexorably, “I want to make love with you. So if you’re going to run, do it now. I can’t guarantee you a second chance.”
Rational thought returned fully, although desire continued to thrum through Kaly’s veins. She almost mourned the return to reason, forcing her to make a conscious decision. But she had to respect him for leaving the choice to her.
She studied him silently, her body quaking anew at the sight of him. He was so much man. The force of her hunger for him was frightening, even as the sight of him thrilled her. He awaited her answer impassively: she would almost be fooled into thinking he was disinterested, except that she was close enough to see the sheen of perspiration on his face and the ripples of desire that still shook him. She knew in that moment that she was no more able to resist him now than she would have been had he not stopped. She quivered inwardly at the thought of being vulnerable to this man, of allowing him close enough to hurt her. But she was certain that the last thing she wanted to do right now was leave him.
Jackson waited for Kaly’s answer, his whole body tense. She looked fragile, with her huge eyes staring up at him solemnly. She was mute so long that he thought he read her answer in her silence. He started to move away, not trusting himself to remain near her and not touch. Her voice stopped him.
“I’m not running.”
Jackson swung his disbelieving gaze back to her. Kaly stood with her head held high, her gaze direct. Relief soughed through him, even as he warned, “I’m through playing games with you, Kaly. I’m not going to stop and I can’t promise it’s going to be ‘nice.’”
He broke off as she slowly approached him and wrapped her arms around his neck, rising on tiptoe to look into his eyes. “I don’t want ‘nice,’” she answered huskily.
Jackson stood frozen, unable to believe what she was telling him, both with her words and her actions. His arms crept to her waist and he pulled her to him. “What do you want?”
“You.”
At her answer his fingers tightened convulsively on her waist. He consciously untensed them, caressing the taut skin apologetically. “Then we’re even, honey, ‘cause I sure as hell want you.” He pulled her against him, not caring that she could feel his trembling. He buried his face in her throat, before sweeping her up in his arms and carrying her inside. He stood her by the huge bed and touched a light switch. All the lights were doused except for the dim lamp on the bedside table. He watched Kaly’s nervous gaze flicker to the lamp and away, and discerned the direction of her thoughts.
“I want to see you,” he murmured, coming back to her and caressing her face in both hands.
She was still worried. He could feel it. “I don’t think—”
“That’s right, sweetheart—” his tongue traced its way around the pouty outline of her lips “—don’t think.” His mouth covered hers fully and Kaly forgot her apprehensions about the light. She returned his kiss, eager to return to that pinnacle of passion they had reached so easily. He nuzzled her ear, her throat, dropping kisses in random patterns on her smooth skin.
Jackson pulled away from her, his hands going to her braid. Slowly he unfastened the ribbon she’d used to hold the end. It fluttered silently to the carpet.
Kaly focused on his expression as he slowly unbraided her hair, a look of absorbed concentration on his face. She felt his hands working in the thick mass, until her hair was loose and his fingers combed through it hypnotically, bringing it forward and fanning it over her shoulders.
Jackson was making himself move slowly, trying not to frighten her with his excitement. He buried his face in the sweet scent of her hair. God, she’d run away screaming if she knew just how close he was to losing control, to giving in to the carnal longing welled up inside him.
“It’s gorgeous,” he said thickly. “Like honey. Why don’t you wear it down more often?”
Kaly swallowed. He had made the simple act of untwining her hair so sensuous she was unable to concentrate on his words, much less respond to them. “It’s...easier...to keep it back. Then it doesn’t—” she broke off to receive the soft kiss he pressed at the corner of her mouth “—get in my way.”
She watched Jackson as he let strands of it run through his fingers. He brought forward a handful and rubbed his face in it. Kaly felt desire radiate throughout her body at his action. Something deep in the pit of her stomach unfolded at the sight of him taking such seductive pleasure in her blond tresses.
Jackson couldn’t believe the difference Kaly’s unbound hair made in her appearance. With it loose, as it was now, she looked…seductive. Wild. The answer to every man’s most secret dream. He played with it for a moment longer, pressing back fantasies of the thick mass spread out on his chest, his belly and lower. He firmly corralled his rampaging, lustful thoughts and returned to wooing her. He felt a measure of control return. Being certain that this interlude would end in the most pleasurable way possible made him capable of restraint. He suspected that she wasn’t very experienced, and he wanted to make this good for her.
He kissed her softly, gentling her to relax again, and soon her arms went around his waist as she returned his kiss with all the emotion he could desire. Jackson’s hands moved slowly up to cup her breasts, his fingers tracing around them. His kiss changed, becoming deeper, more passionate. While he explored her mouth, he slowly slipped eac
h button on her blouse free. When he finished he looked down to admire the picture she made. The sides of the blouse framed her slender torso. Her breasts were lovingly cupped in a lacy demi-bra, the tops rippling enticingly.
Jackson swallowed hard at the sensual display and moved with agonizing care. One finger traced her breasts where they met that seductive piece of lace. Then, fingers splayed at the side of each breast, he pushed them up with his thumbs and used his tongue to delve into the sexy crevice. Jackson’s head raised at Kaly’s involuntary gasp. His eyes locked with hers as he brushed her blouse from her shoulders. Neither watched it pool in a turquoise puddle at her feet. His hands went back to her waist, lightly stroking as he tortured himself with anticipation. Finally, with aching slowness he reached around her and unfastened her bra. She trembled in his arms as he removed the scanty scrap and it joined her blouse on the floor.
Jackson groaned audibly at the sight of her, bared to the waist. Her breasts were high and firm, rising proudly above a waist that he could nearly span with his two hands. Feeling his temperature rise as he looked at her, he endeavored to recapture control. Her peach-colored nipples were beaded impudently, begging for his attention. Lowering his head, he flicked a nipple with his tongue, wetting it, teasing it to a tighter point. With a low sound that was almost a growl, he took it into his mouth, suckling deeply, causing Kaly to moan. Her hands went to his shoulders, hanging on to his strength as her world tilted madly. Jackson’s free hand stroked her other satiny breast, kneading it gently as his thumb rasped its nipple. She was wildly responsive, and he took his time pleasuring one breast, before switching his attention to its twin. He wet the nipple generously with his tongue and then blew gently on it, making it bead even more tautly. At Kaly’s silent urging he lowered his head to it and drew it into his mouth.