by Rita Herron
Maddie responded in kind. She'd never wanted anyone as much as she wanted Chase at that moment. With a low growl that sent a shiver up her spine, he ravaged her mouth, plundering the inner recesses with his tongue, and cradled her limp body in his arms. His hands were everywhere, on her breasts, her hips, her thighs, pushing up her dress, teasing the soft skin between her legs, his fingers exploring the tender folds of her womanhood. She clung to him, caressing the taut muscles knotting in his back, grasping his hips as he pushed her farther into the plush rug and thrust against her.
Dizzying sensations spiraled through her, sweeping all common sense from her mind, and she tore at his shirt, popping buttons in her haste to touch his bare skin. Seconds later, his clothes lay discarded in a heap by the fireplace, and he stretched beside her wearing nothing but a pair of dark briefs that barely contained his bulging sex. Maddie was stunned by the sight of his near-naked body, the strong, rippling muscles of his chest and shoulders, the firm, flat washboard stomach, the dark hair tapering from his chest toward the burgeoning erection pressing against her leg. Another scar puckered along his side, running a jagged path around his back, but each imperfection only served to remind her of the power and strength within the man.
Gently, he stroked her arm, ran his finger along her throat, let her look her fill. "Are you sure, Maddie?"
His low, husky voice sounded unsure but oddly tender. She felt herself smiling from the inside out, the lust and hunger she'd felt earlier heightened by the emotional bond she felt drawing her closer to him. Hesitation had no purpose. She lay her hand along his jaw again, one thumb stroking his bottom lip. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life, Chase."
He closed his eyes momentarily, breathing out a sigh that pulsed with heat and hunger. His gentle caring and passionate body made the moment even more seductive, and when he opened his eyes and gazed into hers, she saw no trace of hesitation, only the quiet acceptance that for this moment in time the two of them should be together.
Slowly, he raised his hand and traced circles along her breasts, lowering his head so he nipped at her neck. Tracing a path along her body with his mouth, he gently bit her ear and laved her throat until she moaned and writhed against him. As if he understood her fierce need, his hands swept down to gather her dress and he lifted it over her arms, then tossed it aside.
"God, you're so beautiful," he said, his breath whispering against her skin.
She reached for him, and he came into her arms. Tongues mated, bodies surged and pressed together, legs entwined, their kisses escalated as the passion overrode all coherent thought. He unfastened her bra and shoved the lace aside, feeding on her breasts with such hunger that Maddie felt her whole inner core churn with desire. Passion exploded within her, sensations spiraling out of control, wickedly playing havoc with her senses until she was pulling his hips into hers. He rocked against her, his straining sex begging to be freed, and she clawed off his briefs, pulling his shaft between her thighs as he rose above her.
Bracing his weight on his hands, he stared into her eyes, his own face glazed over with desire. Sweat soaked his skin, and his breath panted out as he shifted and moved so his sex pressed at her damp opening. She clung to him, a wanton smile lifting her lips as he thrust inside her; then she braced herself for the moment she would feel the small shock of pain, the triumphant giving of her first time.
And she finally remembered the reason she shouldn't be doing this. Because giving Chase her body meant she'd given him her heart. She gazed at his face, tight with passion, and realized that it was the very same reason she wanted to give herself to Chase.
Because she'd already fallen in love with him.
* * *
What the hell?
Chase froze, the heady scent of Maddie and sex almost overpowering the realization that Maddie was so slick, so hot, so... so incredibly tight. As if she'd never...
Anguish and fear suddenly jerked him to a halt, and he used every last ounce of restraint to pull back and look into her eyes. He searched her face, his gut clenching as her passion-glazed eyes played up and down his chest while she actually looked at their joined bodies and smiled in wild abandon.
"Maddie?"
"Don't stop, Chase," Maddie whispered. "Please don't stop."
His heart clamored for words even as his body sank deeper within her. His hands braced his body weight so he wouldn't crush her. Because he was going to hurt her if he continued. And dear God, the last thing he wanted was to hurt Maddie.
"I want you, Chase." She glanced at their joined bodies again, sending a shudder through him. "Like this, the two of us."
"But why..." His voice grew gruff, thick with emotion. "Why me?"
The sultry, loving smile that encompassed her face tore through his resolve. "Because you're special, Chase. You've always been special to me. And I want you to be the first."
He'd never been anyone's first.
Chase hesitated, his breath locking in his chest while Maddie slowly reached up and cupped his face tenderly in her hands, drawing his mouth to her for the sweetest, most erotic kiss he'd ever experienced in his life. Could he do this? Take Maddie's virginity?
Be the bad boy everyone believed him to be? Be her first.
Maybe her only.
No, he couldn't think in terms of only.
She ran her hands down his naked buttocks and pulled him toward her, reaching down to touch his sex.
Now, he couldn't think at all.
Heat and fire and hunger bordering on pain rippled through him. His sex throbbed inside her, begging for completion, begging for the salvation Maddie offered. Willpower—where was it when he needed it?
He should have lit some candles, tried that damn aromatherapy.
Maddie rocked her hips against him, her tongue flicking out to lick at his tight nipple. "Chase, please, I need you now."
The soft pleading in her voice, the passion-crazed look in her eyes, the tightening of her sex around his, the fact that out of all the men she could have slept with, she'd chosen him to be her first destroyed every last ounce of his good intention. He was lost.
"This might hurt," he whispered hoarsely, gently moving inside her.
"It can't hurt, it feels too wonderful."
Without giving him a chance to withdraw, she lifted her hips and suddenly surged herself against him until he broke through her barrier. She cried out, but the whimper sounded so full of excitement, so full of rapture, he gathered her in his arms and sank into oblivion. "God, Maddie."
"You feel wonderful, Chase, so good."
Her words were like an erotic striptease, shredding him of his senses. He told himself to give her time to adjust to his body, but Maddie didn't want time. She wanted him, strong and powerful and full of force, and he gave, finally allowing the sensations ravaging his body to block his conscience from his thoughts. Her hands begged for him to fill her, her mouth devoured his, her whispered erotic words and little moans robbed him of all caution. He surged inside her over and over, building a rhythm that rocked them both to the core, and when their releases finally swept through them, they came together in a kaleidoscope of colors and thrashing sounds that completely stole his sanity.
Several minutes later, Chase rolled off Maddie, their sweat-dampened bodies entangled, Maddie's perfect round breasts nudging his side as she cuddled in his arms. His breath slowly returned to normal, but he realized the rest of him would never be the same. He had taken a precious gift from Maddie, a wondrous gift that he didn't deserve. He'd have to tell her they'd made a mistake—
"Chase, don't go thinking now, okay?"
A low chuckle rumbled from deep within his chest. "You do know me pretty well."
Maddie rolled to her side, threw her bare leg across his, trapping him, and played with a damp strand of hair that had fallen in his eyes. "Damn straight." With a sultry smile that made his sex twitch back to life, she scraped her nails down his stomach, then lower to the inside of his thigh. His stomach cl
enched, and he sucked in a sharp breath.
"Maddie—"
She lifted herself on top of him and taunted him with her naked breasts as they swayed above him. "Yes, Chase?"
"What are you doing?"
A grin lit her eyes. "I thought we'd christen the house now."
He laughed slowly, pinching one of her nipples between his fingers. "I thought we just did that."
She dropped her face forward and kissed his forehead, tracing her tongue along the scar. "I meant every room in the house."
Then she jerked him to his feet, dragged him butt naked to the master suite where they began to do as she'd said. Hours later, they ended up in the bath, where Maddie bathed his sex with her tongue, accompanying each stroke with a sound of hunger so intoxicating, Chase thought he might die from the pleasure. He dug his hands into her tangled hair and groaned, finally reversing positions so he could treat her to the same sweet bliss she'd given him. Finally she climbed above him and impaled her lovely body on his, drinking in his every thrust with her hot, tight center.
Chase moaned in ecstasy and fondled her breasts as she brought him to the brink again—nothing could keep him from wanting Maddie. And tonight, she seemed bound and determined not to let him forget it.
Chapter 19
Lance parked his Blazer in front of the apartment number Sophie had given him, reminding himself to be on guard all night in case Sophie tried to worm some information out of him. Thank God Reid had stayed to iron out their problems with one of the contractors who'd caused a delay. And Chase was meeting Maddie tonight to check out furniture, so she was in good hands. One problem off his mind—he could always trust Chase to do him a favor.
Sophie greeted him at the door. Dressed in a dark green halter top with slinky black pants that clung to her hips and those clunky shoes that seemed to be so fashionable these days, she looked absolutely gorgeous. Hell, he wished he did prefer blondes, but he'd always liked black hair. And porcelain skin. And ruby-red kissable lips.
Still, he had to resist her.
"Hi, Lance, come on in."
He'd get right down to business. "Are you ready to go?"
She arched one of those black eyebrows, drawing attention to her huge green eyes. His gut clenched. "In a hurry?"
He shrugged. "Just thought we'd get dinner over with so we can talk business."
A smile tugged at the corners of her pouty bow-shaped mouth. "Actually, I thought we'd eat in. I cooked dinner for us."
He couldn't have been more shocked if she said she'd invited him to sleep over. "You cooked?"
"Yeah, gourmet cooking is a hobby of mine."
For some reason, he hadn't pictured her as the domestic type.
His expression must have given away his surprise because she suddenly laughed, a soft, wispy sound that reminded him of wind chimes.
"I suppose you thought I had my food catered every night or ate out."
"I..." Exactly what he'd thought.
"Don't sweat it, Lance. There's a lot about me you don't know." She gestured for him to enter. He did so, taking in her small apartment in surprise. Stuffed bears filled a window seat below a gingham curtain, a collectible brown bear with tiny round glasses propped in one of those useless antique wicker baby carriages. An outdated plaid sofa and a worn leather recliner occupied the small den, the only other furniture was a battered pine entertainment unit with an Ipod player situated on it. Splashes of yellow and blue made the room feel fresh but airy, and a blue braided rug gave it a down-home country feel. All in all, a comfortable homey-looking room.
Not at all what he'd expected.
"Let me see, you thought I'd have all chrome and glass, black lacquer furniture, an ice statue in the formal living room—isn't that what you said?"
Momentarily speechless, he simply stared at her like an idiot.
Her laughter startled him. "Everything isn't always what it appears to be on the surface, Lance."
Exactly what he was afraid of—hidden agendas.
Her gaze drifted toward a wooden trunk that had seen better days. "I've been saving my money for the house," Sophie said, for the first time not quite meeting his eyes. Something about that moment of vulnerability tugged at Lance, making him want to know more about Sophie Lane, and making him want to pull her in his arms and comfort her. But then the moment passed, and he wondered if he'd imagined it.
"I guess I was wrong. But your place, it's nice. Comfortable."
"Well, if that's an apology of sorts, then I accept it." She indicated a small white pine table in the tiny kitchen nook. "Dinner's almost ready. Why don't you sit down, and we can talk while I finish the pasta. There's wine on the counter, beer in the fridge. Make yourself at home."
Again, not at all what he expected. What was she up to? Trying to get him relaxed, ply him with liquor, then sneak in her questions?
She busied herself slicing bread and slathering butter on top, tossing the salad and stirring pasta, occasionally sipping her wine while she talked about the house. Strains of a jazz CD played softly in the background. Lance nursed a beer and listened to her plans.
"I don't think I can do everything I want upfront, but I'd like to get started, at least make the house livable," she said, pausing to taste the pasta. Obviously deciding it was done, she dished it up on a huge blue platter, then dribbled a white sauce over the top. His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn't had time for lunch. The dish smelled like clam sauce and wine and looked delicious.
"Then you'll want to check out the heating, wiring, plumbing, all the basics."
"Since I'll be the only one living there for a while, I'm going to redo the kitchen, bedroom and living area first."
"Sounds practical." Or was that her way of subtly telling him she didn't have a live-in?
She added some kind of homemade dressing to the salad and placed it on the table. His mouth watered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to start right in on business. I should have given you a little time to unwind." She turned and toyed with her wineglass, studying him. "How are things, Lance? Business going okay?"
Here she goes with the drill. "Yeah. We've had a few minor delays but minor problems always go with the territory."
Sophie smiled as she set a yellow plate in front of him and gestured for him to serve himself. "Maddie's so excited about the Tour of Homes. It must be wonderful to have such a close-knit family."
An odd expression darkened her eyes. Envy? Or was she priming him to find out about their father? "Yeah, we stick together," Lance said warily.
Her green eyes flitted over him. "Maddie brags about you all the time, Lance. How you've taken care of her and Reid since your parents died."
His chest wanted to swell with pride. If only he could trust her. "We're family, I couldn't do anything else."
"Well, I want you to know I think it's remarkable. Not every young man would have done the same thing at your age. You must have had to make some sacrifices."
Was she talking from experience or trying to butter him up to find out information on his family? "I couldn't let my folks down. And I intend to continue taking care of the family." She glanced up, her eyes huge beneath those long black lashes, and he realized his voice had sounded harsher than he'd intended. But his words were meant as a warning; he only hoped she accepted his wishes and didn't press the issue. "What about your family, Sophie? Do they live around here?"
Sophie pushed the pasta around on her plate. Interesting that she didn't like being put on the hot spot. "No, they're kind of scattered. I don't see them much."
"Aren't you close?"
"No, not at all. I've been on my own for a long time." Her small shoulders lifted slightly as if to indicate her strained family relationship was unimportant. The gesture made her appear delicate, vulnerable again. And more than a little bit lost.
Whoa, where had that thought come from?
He was doing it, letting her pretty face and that vulnerable look crawl under his skin.
"Look, Sophie, I
'm not here to chat or talk about the family." He grabbed a chunk of bread and bit into the grainy thickness. "I think we'd better stick to business."
The warm smile she'd greeted him with instantly disappeared. She rose, then brought some crude sketches to the table. The rest of the dinner they focused on her plans for restoration. When he'd polished off his last bite, she offered him coffee and a slice of the best lemon meringue pie he'd ever tasted. But the conversation remained stilted, and Sophie looked strained and aloof, barely sampling her own dessert.
"I'll work up an estimate for you right away," he said, standing to leave.
She stood also, her petite body moving gracefully across the kitchen to place their dishes in the sink. "Fine. I'll wait on your call."
When she walked him to the door, he lingered for a moment, studying her small apartment, trying to figure her out. She clutched the doorjamb with her dainty fingers, her wide green eyes locking with his. "I appreciate the business advice, Lance."
"No problem."
A whiff of her perfume wafted toward him, sending his body into arousal.
"I didn't mean to upset you earlier, Lance. I meant what I said, that I admired you for taking care of your family. Not everyone is lucky enough to have an older sibling there for them."
His body hardened at the sound of her husky voice, angering him. The only way to not be attracted to Sophie Lane was to avoid her. He might as well be straightforward.
"Sophie, I don't know what you're up to, but if you intend to nose around in my life, you can forget it. I don't like the way you exploit other people's lives for TV ratings and parade their secrets in front of the world just to make a buck. It's a sleazy way to make a living, and I don't intend to let my family be a part of your dog-and-pony show."
Her sharp gaze made his gut clench, but he steeled himself against those mesmerizing eyes. "How do you know what my show is like if you don't even watch it?" Sophie asked, her voice a soft, hurt whisper.