by Alyssa Kress
But her legs clasped him with sweet need, her fingers spread greedily over his biceps, and her breasts moved in a provocative dance from his movements. It was taking everything Roy had to stay the course. Worst of all were her eyes, the tiny sliver of them he could see, eyes that promised, eyes that beckoned, eyes that seemed to offer everything he'd ever secretly wanted.
Eyes that seemed to draw his deepest needs out and into the open.
Roy bucked and plunged. He couldn't keep the slow rhythm. The need slithered out, drawn by Valerie's eyes. The need wrapped around him and took over his movements, guiding him along its slippery path, rocking his body with its great and terrible urgency. He thrust into her furiously, growing more desperate as the possibility of fulfillment drew closer.
"Don't... Please...stay..." The words came out of his lips, hoarse and croaking, making no sense, even to him. Meanwhile he could see her face tighten, her chin lift and her eyes finally close.
That did it. Roy rocked into Valerie with everything he had, every need, every fear, every desire. Her chin lifted higher, her lips pulled back from her teeth. Her sweet body clenched convulsively about his.
He knew precisely when she reached her zenith. He could feel the small muscles pulsing, celebrating.
That was when he lost the last tatters of his own control. He went plunging over the cliff directly behind her, indeed, as if she had pulled him along. Unbelievable pleasure shot through him as his seed spewed forth. For an instant, one shattering split-second, he felt that everything he was had bound with her. He felt as though his life — not merely his happiness but his very being — was sitting right in her hands.
It was an absolutely terrifying moment.
The only thing that kept Roy together was its simultaneous ecstasy. If a human being could experience heaven, this was it.
Heaven, and hell, both in the same glorious instant.
A sound Roy couldn't prevent gritted from his chest and he quickly lowered to gather her close. The last thing he wanted was for Valerie to be able to see whatever was showing in his eyes.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Cherise had learned to expect the unexpected from Kenny, but a buzz from the downstairs intercom at four in the morning was well outside the merely unexpected. It was downright barbaric.
"Kenny?" she asked, standing in her hallway by the intercom phone in her Neiman Marcus silk robe and pajamas. She set a palm to her forehead. Her brain felt as if she'd left half of it back on her pillow. "You're here?"
"I have a very good explanation for this," Kenny claimed, his voice nasal and scratchy over the condo intercom.
"You'd better." And then, because half her brain was still on her pillow, Cherise pressed the buzzer to let him in. Meanwhile, all of her heart began to pound. Kenny was on his way up.
She'd never expected to see him again, not after the way he'd fled her condo last Friday night. First, he'd stormed through all her defenses, viewing her most intimate self. Then he'd given her a look that said he was just as blown-away by the experience as she was.
The next thing she'd known, he was gone. Out her door, zooming off in his speedy little Ferrari. Not even stopping to remember they'd left her car at the Valley Pediatric parking lot. She'd had to call a cab the next morning in order to fetch her Corvette.
At first she'd been angry. How dare he cut her open and then abandon her that way? Then she'd been relieved. If she never had to face the one person who'd seen her all the way through, it would be a very good thing. In fact, she hoped Kenny drove out of her life and all the way to China.
Meanwhile, she'd just let him in the downstairs gate. She had to be as nuts as he was.
Cherise stalked to her front door and opened it. Kenny, unshaven, hair rumpled, and dressed in wrinkled Dockers, was striding down the hall.
Ignoring the way her heart was beating like a drum roll, Cherise raised one eyebrow. "It's four in the morning."
Kenny came to a stop outside her door. He didn't have the decency to look apologetic, although she had to admit his demeanor was gratifyingly supplicatory. "I had to sell the Ferrari. The only way I could get here was by hitching a ride with a long-haul trucker I met at a game. That meant getting here when he did."
Cherise left her eyebrow high. "Why did you feel you had to come at all?"
"I tried not to." Kenny laughed dryly, then looked up at Cherise. It was the look. The look he'd given her after he'd finished arranging her paintings, the look that cut through all obstructions, the look of such astonishing depth and clarity. Like he really knew her.
Cherise started trembling.
"Can I come in?" he asked.
She ought to shut the door right in his face. If she had an ounce of common sense, and Cherise prided herself on owning pounds of the stuff, she'd throw the deadbolt and forget she'd ever met a man named Kenny Doubletree. He was the most irresponsible, unreliable, and dangerous man she had ever encountered.
But — but — she was incapable of cutting the connection that hummed and buzzed in the air around them. Whatever yearned in her heart couldn't hold a candle to all the common sense in the world.
Cherise stepped back from her front door.
Kenny did not hesitate to take her up on the invitation. He walked over the threshold, closed the door behind him, and then wrapped her in his arms.
Cherise's arms went around him, too, as if she'd been waiting her whole life for him to walk through her door and hold her. He felt big and strong and good. "Oh, Kenny," Cherise whispered.
"Cherise."
It was the moment they should have had a week ago. After they'd each opened wide, they should have rushed to cover each other up, to make mutually private what had previously been a lonely secret. They should have helped each other.
She could hear him draw in a deep breath at the same time she breathed in, and then they kissed. It was far more than a fusion of mouths or a dance of tongues. It was a storm, brewing and swirling and then swooping right down on them.
She found herself groping him, struggling to get closer. He appeared to be in much the same state. Zippers were ripped open, sashes tossed aside.
If Cherise had been in need of a lesson in humility, she was certainly getting it. All the times she'd scolded Valerie for doing just this kind of thing: impulsive, thoughtless, needy... She shrugged out of the silk pajama top, the buttons of which had already been torn off by Kenny.
"Somewhere — " he gritted out. He was down to his boxers. Plaid boxers, Cherise would recall, with amusement, much later. But just then she was consumed with the need to be with him, in every way.
"The sofa," she moaned.
He didn't need to be told twice. In about two seconds, Cherise found herself flat on her back on her white sofa, Kenny's long and tautly-muscled body covering her.
He felt like magic. The rub of his skin against hers, the play of his muscles beneath her hands, the silk of his hair as it fell down to brush her forehead. Everything about him made her sparkle with joy.
"I love you," Kenny told her, in a tone that pleaded. "I love you so much, Cherise."
"Kenny!" Cherise didn't know if she cried out his name in response to his words, or to the fact he'd just thrust himself inside her, exploding her sparkles, turning them into hot and dazzling fireworks. And somehow, sharpening her need. "Please," Cherise cried. She clutched him close, shoving her hips against his and wrapping her legs around his waist.
"I got you," he said, and began to pump.
He was very strong. Cherise could feel him climbing up her need, starting to conquer it. Powerful, relentless, he climbed much higher than any man had ever gone. He climbed too high. Like a weight that was over-heavy on the end of a fragile branch — about to break and fall.
She released her tight hold on him, wanting to come back down, where it was safe.
But he wouldn't retreat. Nipping her jaw, hands cupping her bottom, he kept pistoning himself into her, holding her tight.
"Kenny — " It
was both plea and warning. She didn't want to go so high; she'd fall.
"Trust me," he rumbled.
Trust him? How was she supposed to do that? He wanted to fly. Human beings didn't fly.
"We'll fly," Kenny promised her, a low purr in her ear. "You'll see. Together."
"But... Oh!" He was shoving her off the branch. Pushing her.
"Let yourself go." He was begging now. "Let...go."
She knew she had a choice. She could hold on fast, refuse to leave the branch — or she could throw her lot in with Kenny, trust him and fly.
She went flying. Pleasure so great it was excruciating flooded her. She was unable to move, unable to think; all she could do was remain a vessel for the sensations coursing through her.
It was terrifying.
Until she became aware she had an anchor, after all. With a dizzying jolt she found she was still in Kenny's arms. He'd never let go of her, had a hold of her still...was keeping her safe.
"Okay?" he asked, very softly. "See? It was okay."
Okay? Cherise felt a laugh bubble up. A little better than okay. Discovering that she could move her arms, she ran her hands over his shoulders. "Mmm." It was all she could manage to say.
Kenny chuckled, the muscles in his abdomen vibrating against her belly. "I'll take that as an okay," he said.
Cherise pressed a kiss against the intriguing place where his arm met his chest. "For a white guy," she said, with her tongue apparently back in working order.
Kenny laughed out loud at that, and Cherise felt him slip out of her.
"Sorry. Ah, what the hell." Still chuckling, Kenny held her close. "It was inevitable I make a mess of such a white sofa."
Cherise only smiled, enjoying the fizzing after-effects of her astounding orgasm, frankly relishing the feel of Kenny's big naked body weighing down her own.
She probably would have lain there all day, not processing the true significance of what Kenny had just said, if he hadn't clarified.
"I don't suppose you were using anything, were you?" he remarked.
Still smiling, Cherise blinked. What?
"Birth control," Kenny explained. "I didn't use any. Did you?"
Cherise drew her face out from the happy place where she'd been smiling against Kenny's shoulder. She stared up at him. "No," she said. Meanwhile, her own answer echoed wildly in her head. No? No?!
"It's okay." Kenny's eyes were dark and soothing. Releasing a happy-sounding sigh, he said, "I wanted to marry you, anyway."
"What?!" Cherise twisted out from under him, her shoulders rising to the back of the sofa, her gaze wild-eyed. "What?"
"I love you," Kenny replied calmly. "I want to get married."
Cherise knew she was still wild-eyed. She'd just had unprotected sex. But a marriage proposal was even scarier. "We can't get married." Adrenaline poured through her veins.
Kenny tilted his head.
Cherise groped for a reason. "You're white."
He grinned widely. "You'll have to come up with something better than that."
Yes, she would, and she could. No problem. There were about a thousand reasons they couldn't get married. If only her addled brain could come up with one of them — "We have completely different goals in life."
"I don't have a goal in life."
"Precisely!" Cherise pushed against Kenny's chest.
Grinning like an idiot, he straightened, allowing her to climb off the sofa.
"You aren't the least bit serious about anything." Cherise scooped her silk wrap off the floor and stuck one arm into a sleeve. "Including getting married."
"Ah, now, that isn't fair." Sitting on the sofa, Kenny watched with undisguised fascination as Cherise struggled to get her nude body covered by her twisted wrap. "I told you, Cherise, I love you. I adore you. I want to be together with you all the time. And if I've made you pregnant — "
"You did not make me pregnant." Cherise said this with more determination than accuracy, however. Conception was a distinct possibility. Swearing privately, she finally found the other sleeve of her wrap, and managed to close it around herself.
"All right, forget that part," Kenny conceded. "In fact, I'd prefer you to forget it. So you understand this isn't something I think I have to do. I want to."
"You're crazy."
"We could have a ball," Kenny went on. "You and me. We're like — I'd take you everywhere." Naked, with his arms laid over the back of the sofa, he regarded her with shining eyes. "Just like the mink coats. I'd help you experience things you never even thought of experiencing."
"I don't want to experience things I've never thought of experiencing." The silk wrap wasn't enough. Cherise still felt naked. They hadn't used birth control.
"We'll go on the European Poker Tour." Kenny's face managed to get more animated. "I'll show you London, Barcelona, Monte Carlo."
"How would we do that?" Cherise hugged her arms over her breasts. "I have a job, here in Palmwood."
Kenny waved a hand, as if he could dismiss her job — and her whole life — in one motion. "Let me show you the world, Cherise. Let's do everything. Live it."
"I am living it," Cherise returned. "Right here."
"Come on, baby." Kenny got up from the sofa. He really was white, Cherise saw, with butter cream skin and even the thatch of hair at his crotch a reddish blond. She felt an inner thud of arousal, despite the anxious beating of her heart.
"You know we're good together," Kenny coaxed, walking toward her. "I help you have fun."
"Fun." Cherise took a discreet step back from him. "Life is not about fun."
"Maybe it should be more about fun, for you." Kenny's smile faded. A line creased the space between his brows.
Cherise took another step back. "I'm in charge of my own life, thank you very much, and it's just as 'fun' as I need it to be."
"Is that right?" Kenny rested his weight on one leg. A sly eyebrow arched. "Then how did we end up tangled on your sofa a few minutes ago, darling? For that matter, why did you bother to meet me at Norman's Art Supply two weeks ago?"
Cherise had no answer to either one of these questions. Clearly, she'd been out of her mind. Definitely still out of her mind, since the picture of him, muscled and nude with his weight on one hip made her itch with longing.
There was nothing to do but launch a counter-attack. "Okay, fine. You say we're good together. Then how about staying right here in Palmwood? Instead of haring off on a European poker tour, how about you get a real job and bring home a regular paycheck?"
Kenny's smug expression froze.
"Huh," Cherise said, feeling smug, herself, now.
"That wouldn't be the same," Kenny said.
"No?"
His lips flattened. "My settling into a nine-to-five job would not be the same as you coming to Europe with me. You would enjoy that."
Cherise's eyes widened. "Says you!"
"Says me. You would. But you can't stand to consider giving up control. You want it to be your job, with your paycheck, so you can dictate everything that's going to happen."
"Excuse me?" Cherise was staring at him, gape-jawed.
"Oh, yes." Kenny's smile was hard. "You insist on writing the script. You know why you're thirty and single, doll? Because you aren't willing to let go of one iota of control."
Anger beat right along with Cherise's thumping heart. "Is that right?" she crooned. "Is that what you've figured out? And do you know why you're thirty-five and divorced three times? Because you don't know how to commit. You won't take anything seriously, least of all yourself."
His eyes were like cobalt laser beams. "I just said I wanted to get married. Isn't that commitment?"
"Not the way you do marriage — and not the way you proposed." Cherise waved an arm. "You didn't for one minute think I'd say yes. You were counting on me to turn you down." A weight settled in Cherise's chest. Until she'd said it, she hadn't realized how true this was.
"That's nuts," Kenny said, very softly.
Cherise shook her head. "You wanted me to turn you down so you could release yourself from responsibility for what we did here on the sofa. Because you would just hate to actually have to take responsibility, to have anyone really count on you."
Kenny's nostrils flared.
Cherise didn't wait to hear what he might attempt to say in reply. She doubted he had a reply; her comment had been too true. He didn't want to get married. Or stay married. He just wanted to be able to pass off responsibility — say he'd done the right thing — if he had, indeed, gotten her pregnant.
"I'm going to get ready for work now," she told him. "If you will excuse me."
Their eyes met. Now was the time, if Kenny meant to disagree with her conclusion, to claim he was serious, after all. But he didn't say a word. He didn't move a muscle. He just looked at her with the bitter gaze of a man who'd been too well pegged.
Unfortunately, her triumph only helped to prove his own point, about her need to grasp control. She'd just done so, with great skill.
With acid in her veins, Cherise swirled and stalked down the hallway. Her back itched, as if feeling his gaze spearing between her shoulder blades. But she didn't turn around.
Five minutes later, from her bedroom, she heard the front door open and close. He was gone.
~~~
Dawn was a gray stain on the curtains in the guest bedroom. Valerie woke gradually, blinking while she worked out where she was, and remembered what had happened. The emotional equivalent of a blush swept through her.
She was in Roy's bed and they'd made love the night before.
God.
She felt her heart speed up and a true blush warm her face. Had they really — ? After all her attempts not to — ?
Not that she was complaining, mind you. It had all been wonderful.
However...
Valerie swallowed. However...they weren't supposed to have done this. They were supposed to have kept their relationship platonic, the way she had decided it ought to be.