by J. R. Ward
What the hell was he thinking? Madeline Maguire was not the sort of woman you took to bed for a one-nighter. Or even a one-weekender. So he should be ashamed of himself at any rate. But add to all that the fact that it would be her first time?
And that she didn’t know about his past?
This could not happen, he thought, appalled at himself. As much as he wanted it to, they just could not be together.
* * *
Okay, so maybe she could have been less blunt, Mad thought. Although given the horror on Spike’s face, couching the announcement in euphemisms wouldn’t have made any difference.
As he just stared at her, all she could do was stare back. Until she couldn’t stand the silence a second longer.
“Look, I’m not expecting more than this weekend, Spike. I just wanted to be up-front. So you weren’t surprised when we…”
He took yet another step away. Boy, if he kept that up, he was going to be over the state line and back in New York soon.
“Yeah, Mad…I don’t know.”
She ignored the stabbing sensation in her chest and looked at the sky. Which was far better than watching him inch away like she was radioactive. “It shouldn’t change anything. I’m an adult. So are you. And this isn’t the turn of the century.”
Lightning flashed on the horizon.
“Why me?” he said softly.
“Why wouldn’t it be you?” Thunder crept through the night, a slow rolling bass. “I want you.”
He coughed a little as if she’d embarrassed him. “Mad…I don’t…”
She forced a laugh. “You know what? It’s okay. I can understand you not wanting to get tangled in something messy.”
“It’s just—I shouldn’t be your first. That’s all.”
Narrowing her eyes, she shook her head. “Hold up. If you don’t want to be with me, fine. But don’t throw that chivalry thing into the mix, okay? I’m perfectly capable of deciding who I want.”
His voice grew hard. “There are things you don’t know about me.”
Mad put her hands on her hips and glared at him. Then she said, “Red.”
He frowned. “Excuse me?”
“My favorite color is red. Did you know that? And I’m an Aries. April fourth is my birthday. Also, I had my tonsils out when I was two. You know any of that?”
Anger flashed in his eyes. “Don’t patronize me.”
“I’m not! My point is, neither one of us knows a great deal about the other.” She threw her hands up. “And the not knowing should probably matter. Except with you…1 don’t seem to care so much. Richard is right. I don’t have good luck with men. And that’s why…Look, you’re here with me now and I want to be with you and that’s enough for me. I don’t care about your past or what I may not know about you. I like who you are now. I like that you over-tipped the waitress this morning…and I love that crazy bike…and I’m thrilled you don’t care that I’m a strong swimmer…and—”
Something wet hit her face. A rain drop. When she tilted her head back, another hit her cheek.
“God, I do go on, don’t I,” she muttered, very aware that he was saying nothing. “Come on, let’s go inside before the storm hits us.”
When she headed for the house, he walked behind her. But unlike the trip out, she couldn’t feel the heat of his eyes on her body anymore.
By the time they hit the terrace, the rain was steady.
Mad had no intention of going back to the party. There was no way she could face that pressure cooker. And as she went up the stairs, he followed as if he felt the same way. Just before they got to the second floor, a jagged streak of lightning shot out of the sky and a split second later there was a mighty roar.
“Will your bike be okay?” she asked as they stepped off into the hallway.
“I heard the storm was coming so I moved Bette into the garage. The butler was cool about it.”
“Oh, good.” She lifted her hand casually, but she had to work at it. The thing felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. “So…’night.”
“Good night, Mad.”
She walked down the hall, knowing he wasn’t going to stop her.
Inside her bedroom, the window she’d opened that morning was still raised so the storm was blowing the drapes out and the sill was wet. She cleaned up the water, but left the thing open. Now that she was no longer a child, she loved thunderstorms.
Would have loved to have watched this one with Spike from her bed.
God, she felt wretched. Absolutely wretched.
After a quick shower, she put a long T-shirt on and slid between the covers. Curling over onto her side, she stared out at the night. The lightning was intensifying, flashing across the sky. Thunder shook the house. Rain lashed down the windows.
She was going to have to dry off the sill again.
But she would do that later. She closed her eyes and listened to the storm…and drifted into a lonely sleep.
Chapter Eight
Sometime much later, Mad felt something brush against her hip. Something warm. Slow. Heavy. A hand?
She jerked just as Spike’s voice whispered in her ear, “It’s just me.”
“What are you—” When she tried to roll over, she came flush to his hard body. And he was in her bed, not just on top of the covers—she could feel the T-shirt he had on and those nylon sweats.
His hips moved, a surge that brought his erection against the back of her thigh. As she groaned at the heat that poured through her, his hand slipped underneath her shirt, dipped into her waist and moved down across her stomach. She arched involuntarily, her head coming back against his shoulder.
He kissed her neck. “Do you have any protection?”
Surprise had her eyes widening. Okay…this was not a dream, evidently. Because what kind of fantasy had the lovers talking about condoms?
She twisted her head and looked at him. Had he really come to…Well, yes, he had. The answer was in his glowing eyes.
“What changed your mind?” she whispered.
He eased away just enough so she could roll over on to her back. Then he brushed a strand of hair from her face and kissed her lightly on the mouth. His voice was quiet in the darkness, the voice of a lover.
“I thought about something I told your captain, Alex, a couple of months ago. I reminded him that warmth in this life is so very rare…and that when you find it, you need to revel in it.” Spike kissed her shoulder. Then her throat. Then her jawline. “I want you so badly I can’t sleep from the burn. And if the present is enough for you, then tonight, let’s be together. If you still—”
“Yes. Yes…”
His hand swept up until it was just under her breasts, but then he paused. “Mad, I need you to know that I don’t want to hurt you.”
“It won’t last long,” she murmured, imagining where they were going to end up. Wanting it so dearly she almost wept.
“I’m not just talking about the…sex part.”
She laid her palm on his face. “I know. But I heard what you said this morning. I know you’re not looking for long-term.”
“I wish I were different. I wish…a lot of things were different.” He kissed her softly, drawing his palm in circles on her rib cage. “But I’m really glad we’re here tonight.”
She stroked her way up his back, reveling in his strength. His muscles were thick at his shoulders, his spine a graceful line under his skin. She imagined the tattoo under her fingers.
We need a little light, she decided. With a quick move, she leaned to the right and clicked on the lamp.
“I want to see you,” she said as she rearranged herself under him.
He flushed. “Ah, Mad…before this goes too far, do you have something? I would have stopped by a store this morning if I’d known we would be…like this.”
“Oh, um…no. I don’t.”
His hand stopped moving and his chest expanded and contracted. Then he resumed his gentle exploration. “That’s okay. We can do other things. We don
’t—”
“You don’t need to worry about it, assuming you’re clean. I’ve never been with anyone and you can’t get me pregnant.”
“I—ah, you’re on the pill?”
“I don’t get my period because of my physical training schedule.” Okay, now she was blushing.
Spike shifted back and looked at her. “Mad…that’s not good for you, is it?”
“It happens to female athletes sometimes. And I don’t plan on being like this forever. When I’m no longer competing at the elite sailing level, I’ll increase my food intake, decrease the exercise and it’ll come back.”
Spike frowned at her as if she’d scrambled him a little and she felt something cold land in her gut. She’d never really thought not getting a period was odd because it wasn’t all that uncommon among the women she knew. But with the way he was looking at her now, it was as if he hadn’t come across someone like her before.
“So…I’m fine,” she prompted. “What about you?”
He rubbed his face, like there were things he wanted to say but he was biting his tongue. “I’ve always been careful. Never without a condom. Plus I had a physical six months ago. I was clean then and I haven’t been with anyone since.”
“So kiss me.” She reached up and touched his face. “Spike, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it. Kiss me….”
He hesitated and she thought for a moment he was going to use his mouth for talking. But then his head came down and his lips were soft on hers. He kissed her for so long, his tongue lazy and slow in her mouth, that she began to wonder whether they were going to end up doing anything else. Which, considering the way his lips moved over hers, was no great sacrifice.
But then he slowly pushed up her shirt so the cotton pooled at her collarbone.
“Oh…Mad…” he whispered. “You’re perfect.”
His hand traveled up over her rib cage and cupped one of her breasts lightly. As he gently learned her contours, his head dipped down and found her neck…then went lower until his mouth closed over her nipple. As he sucked and kissed, she grabbed on to his head, urging him closer, wanting more, wanting it all.
When he slid her panties down, she didn’t really notice. But as soon as his hand skimmed over her thighs and dipped between them, she jerked.
“This okay?” he said hoarsely, pulling back.
“Yes…oh, yes. Just…surprised.”
When he touched her heat, it was so softly she barely knew what he was doing. What she registered instead was the way he shuddered with an erotic little spasm, his whole body trembling, his hips surging.
“Mad,” he whispered. “Oh…Mad.”
The rest of what he said was lost as he kissed her and touched her with sensual care, knowing exactly what felt good.
She pushed her hands between their bodies, reaching for his hips, wanting him to know the same heat and spiraling urgency. But he held her hands away from his arousal.
“No, don’t touch me.”
“Why—”
“I need to stay in control. This has to be good for you.” His lips came down on hers and he stroked her core once again. “You’re so soft here. You make me…crazy.”
His body was tight all over, except for when he shivered, and the more he pleasured her with his hand, the more they both became aroused. And she knew exactly how much he wanted her. It was in his parted lips, the flush on his cheeks, his rapt breathlessness, his straining muscles…but most of all it was in the reverent, greedy way his yellow eyes looked at her.
Abruptly, he changed his touch, demanding, driving. She grabbed on to his shoulders and gasped, kicking her head back. She was swept away in him, by him, the heat growing and growing.
“I want you to fly for me,” he said in her ear, his voice a thrilling rasp. “Let yourself go. I promise I’ll hold you. But fly for me, Madeline. I need it. I need to see it.”
When she shattered apart, he was there, whispering to her, telling her she was beautiful, riding out the wave with her then easing her down.
She buried her face in his chest as her heart began to slow, feeling an absurd urge to cry. Closer…she wanted to be closer to him. She curled into his body and tried to push her knee between his legs, but he held her in place. And that was when she realized he was retreating from her though he hadn’t gone anywhere.
She looked up at him. “You want to stop now, don’t you?”
His eyes roamed around her face and then he smiled a little. “Brace yourself, I’m about to be unmanly.”
“Not possible. You’re as manly as they come.”
“I’m scared.”
Her breath caught. “Of what?”
There was a pause and then his hand swept down her side, over her hip and to the apex of her thighs.
“Open for me, Mad.”
She let her legs relax and then he was touching her again. With a slow gentle push, he dipped inside of her for the first time. She shifted to accommodate his hand, tilting her hips up as he went farther and farther…until he stopped and cursed softly.
“Mad, there’s no way this isn’t going to hurt you.”
“I’ll be fine.” It would be over quickly and then on the other side there would be something beautiful waiting for both of them. “I’m not worried.”
“Yeah, well, I am. I don’t know if I can…do this.” He cleared his throat. “I want you, but I’m not sure what’s going to happen if I know I have to hurt you. I’m liable to lose my…you know.”
“You are so adorable right now.” She slid her arm around his waist and swept her hand up to his heavy shoulders. She was surprised once again at how smooth and warm his skin was. “Spike—”
“Michael.”
“What?”
“My real name is Michael. You don’t have to use it. I just…wanted you to know.”
“Michael.” She smiled. “Where did the Spike come from? Your hair?”
His eyes grew grim. “It was given to me. By…friends.”
She eased her palm down his back, wondering about his friends, wondering about where he’d gotten his tattoo, wondering…She knew so few details about his life, though she knew the essence of him very well.
“Michael,” she murmured. “I like that. So, Michael, kiss me. Stop thinking and kiss me.”
“You aren’t afraid, are you?”
“No.”
His eyes became so serious the color of them seemed to darken. “You…are amazing.”
With a powerful surge, he pulled his shirt off and pitched the thing carelessly to the ground. Then he stretched out on top of her, drawing her arms up over her head. After he’d settled into the cradle of her hips, he began to move in a sinuous pump. As she cried out from the friction, he groaned and let her hands go then dropped his head into the crook of her neck. Through the thin nylon of his sweats, she could feel his arousal sliding, probing. She threw her knees wide.
“Mad…”
He kissed her hard and they went a little wild as she wrapped her legs around his hips and gripped his shoulders with her nails. He didn’t seem to mind how much she was holding on to him or the way she’d latched on to his lower body. Quite the opposite. He was positively growling into her mouth.
Without warning, he pulled away and stood up. Turning his back to her, he drew the sweatpants off then held them over his hips as he got back onto the bed. She was confused until she realized he was shielding himself from her, not letting her catch a glimpse of the front of him.
As he found his way back to her body, he threw the sweats aside and came down on top of her. His naked skin against hers was a stinging pleasure, almost too much to handle. But she wanted to know what he looked like.
She pushed him back. “Let me see you. All of you.”
There was a pause.
“Spike, I want to see you. Now.”
He slowly eased off her and rose up onto his knees. Mad’s eyes widened as she understood what he hadn’t wanted her to know. He was…very well endowed.
&
nbsp; “We don’t have to,” he said, covering himself with his palms.
She shook her head and moved his hands away. “I don’t want to stop.”
“Mad…I’ll be careful.”
“I know you will. But first…” She reached out and touched him.
His body shuddered all over, his breath sucking into his lungs with a hiss, his head falling back. She looked at the male glory of him, from his thick thighs to his magnificent sex to the planes of his stomach…up farther to his pectorals and his shoulders…to his throat and the hard point of his chin, which was all she could see of his face.
She stroked him and learned his maleness, all of it, but he didn’t let her explore for long.
His voice was hoarse, a bumpy rasp, as he lay down on top of her again. “No more of that. You take me so high, so fast…”
She felt him shift to the side and one of his hands disappeared between their hips. There was a blunt, silken brush against her, and the knowledge of what it was made her tremble with arousal. He entered with an aching, unhurried nudge.
Spike broke out in a sweat and the heat that bloomed over every inch of him seeped into her. His muscles were absolutely rigid as he moved forward little by little, going so very carefully. As her body stretched to accommodate him, he found a shallow rhythm of rocking and she followed along.
Pleasure began to rise and she nipped his shoulder with her teeth while angling her hips up.
“Now,” she whispered. “Do it now.”
He stuck with speed. With one sharp surge of his lower body, he broke past the breach, but went no farther.
Pain flared, red hot, and she tightened all over, gasping. Instinctually she squeezed at his hips, and pushed against his shoulders, yet she hoped he wouldn’t move.
“I’ll pull out,” he said in a rush.
“No…just…wait a minute, okay? I need to relax.”
Spike stayed perfectly still, not even breathing.
Her tension eased as the discomfort passed. And then she was aware of him, so unnaturally quiet and unmoving, yet joined with her.
Abruptly, the presence of him seemed very right.
More, she thought. I want more.