Wedding Song

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  She lifted her face to his. “I need you.”

  “I’m here.” His lips hovered near, tasted, withdrew, tasted again. His fingers worked up through her hair, releasing the pins, combing her hair down around her shoulders while his mouth explored and savored hers. He kisses like a musician, she thought before those kisses sent her mind spinning away from rational thought.

  They left her dress in a scarlet splash in the middle of the living room, his makeup-stained shirt in the hall, their shoes at the bedroom door. Judd fumbled with a light switch and a small bedside lamp spilled a pool of light that illuminated a walnut four-poster bed covered in a moss-and-blue comforter. Kerry thought fleetingly of her disheveled appearance and reached over his shoulder to flip the switch off.

  Judd laughed softly and kissed her while he turned it back on. “I want to see you sparkle,” he murmured against her mouth.

  She had no more say in the matter as he urged her backward until they reached the bed and she tumbled onto the fluffy comforter. Then she forgot about the light as he slipped down beside her and seemed to kiss her underwear away. In easy, sensuous motions he left her wearing nothing but her crystal necklace and earrings.

  His touch was like music, one caress flowing into another, each building toward a melody that was excitingly new, yet hauntingly familiar. As he kissed her breasts, her nipples, the insides of her thighs, she had the wild feeling she’d become a musical instrument. And not just any instrument, but one of superb quality, a Stradivarius vibrating with a richness she hadn’t known she possessed. She grew taut as harp strings, resonant as the tight skin of a drum.

  How he played her!

  Fingertips pressing, mouth slipping easily over her damp skin, he pushed her to greater heights of sensation with each fresh assault. She arched as he found the heated core of her with his fingers, gasped when he put his mouth there. She gave him her sighs of delight, her moans of ecstasy and finally, in a burst of joy, her cries of completion.

  Then he was beside her again, stroking and kissing her back to arousal once more. She wanted more, and he had more to give. A brief moment away from her, and he returned. She rubbed her hands over his sweat-dampened chest where glistening drops of moisture clung to the wiry hair. She gazed into his tawny eyes and saw her own passion reflected there.

  He moved over her and braced his arms on either side of her head. He was breathing hard and she could sense the superhuman control that allowed him to enter her gently, slowly, watching her eyes as he filled her.

  She lifted her hips to meet him. His nostrils flared and he shoved deeper, his first impatient gesture of the night.

  “Yes,” she said, her voice husky from the effects of his lovemaking. She rotated her hips and watched in satisfaction as his eyes closed.

  He opened his eyes, withdrew and entered her again, more forcefully this time. She pushed upward, meeting his thrust. With a growl of pleasure he cupped her behind, and this time he buried himself in her without holding back.

  She gripped his shoulders and held on as he pushed her relentlessly toward another climax, but this time she gazed into his eyes, determined to watch the crescendo building in him, too.

  He took her there first, and her vision blurred as she whirled in the heart of the maelstrom. He followed soon afterward with a shout of triumph that echoed through her fevered brain in a final drumroll of passion.

  In the dazed aftermath, as he rested his forehead against hers and their glistening bodies settled together in sweet juxtaposition, she understood for the first time why some women mated for life, why they couldn’t love another, even if they tried. It was this that bound them, this perfection of union that would be a travesty to even try and duplicate.

  Had he felt it, too? For the sake of her heart, she prayed that he had.

  His breath was warm against her ear. “Don’t go away,” he whispered, and eased from the bed. In a moment he was back, cradling her in his arms, smoothing the tangled hair from her face. “You need to know something.”

  She gazed into his eyes. She needed to know everything, but would he choose to tell her?

  “This isn’t the way I usually operate.”

  That made her smile. “Then I think you’ve really hit upon something.”

  He smiled back. “I meant that I don’t bring women here.”

  “What does that make me?”

  His eyes sparkled. “Most probably a witch. But I just didn’t want you to think that I was exactly the kind of man you imagined when you were talking to the gulls that morning. Somebody who dumped his daughter for the summer so he could live it up while she was gone.”

  She touched his cheek. “Do you care what I think?”

  “As it happens, I do.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “I don’t know about that.” His gaze was warm. “My feelings for you could turn out to be a real problem for both of us.”

  She ran her hand over his hip. “Is making love with the CEO against company policy?”

  “Mostly against my personal policy. Business is supposed to be strictly business.”

  “I see.” The devil in her guided her hand to his groin, where she fondled him intimately.

  His eyes darkened. “But you refuse to be put in a neat compartment.”

  “We can’t be put in a neat compartment.” She wrapped her fingers around his stiffening shaft. “Even if you are the CEO and I’m the potential client, we’ve been striking sparks off each other from the day we met.”

  He groaned and closed his eyes. “But you’re headed for fame and fortune. You don’t need this.”

  “And what about you?” She slid her hand away.

  “I…”

  She leaned down and took him in her mouth.

  “I need this,” he gasped. “Oh, Kerry, I need this.”

  10

  KERRY AWOKE the next morning to find herself alone in the big four-poster. She stretched slowly and marveled at how wonderful she felt, considering she’d had one of the most miserable performances of her life the night before. But after Judd’s lovemaking, the performance seemed unimportant.

  She glanced around the room for clues to his personality. Apparently he liked dark woods and rich, muted colors. A desk beneath the window had some papers strewn on it; a leather briefcase sat on the floor next to the wooden swivel chair. Framed pictures of Rachel at various ages were scattered throughout the room—on the desk, the walnut dresser, the bedside table. A few pictures of a young couple with a toddler were also mixed in. Rachel and her parents. Kerry was touched that Judd kept these reminders so close at hand.

  As for his taste in art, his erotic nature was highlighted in his choice of lush landscapes with trees in full foliage covering sensuously rolling hills. Or perhaps after last night’s experience with Judd she was reading more into the paintings.

  In the height of passion, he was ravenous, but in quieter moments she could tell he wasn’t completely comfortable with their new status as lovers. He’d tried a few more times during the night to discuss why they might be making a mistake, but then he’d reach for her, or she’d reach for him, and they’d be immersed in the wonder they created together simply by touching.

  She decided he might be the kind of man who needed a while to get used to an idea. If he didn’t want his associates to know about their liaison, she’d keep it secret until it no longer mattered. Once she’d earned a measure of fame, their love affair wouldn’t be much of a scandal. It might not be one now, but she’d defer to Judd on that score. This was his backyard she was playing in, after all. And, boy, had they played!

  An antique wall clock pointed to a little after seven. Traffic was already bustling on the street below, but inside the apartment silence reigned, except for the ticking of the clock. She didn’t think Judd would leave her here alone, but she didn’t know all aspects of his personality yet.

  She climbed out of bed and padded into a bathroom scented with soap and shaving cream. Moisture still clung to th
e pebbled shower door. She must have been exhausted to have slept through his morning routine. She washed her face and ran her fingers through her hair, wincing as she encountered tangles. A wine-colored terry robe hung on a hook behind the bathroom door. She put it on and went in search of its owner.

  Halfway down the hall she heard Judd’s voice and paused. If he had visitors she didn’t want to be seen. Soon she recognized a one-sided conversation that indicated he was on the telephone. He laughed, and her heart lurched with pleasure.

  Following the scent of fresh-brewed coffee, she continued down the hall and into the living room. From there she could see him sitting in the kitchen at a butcher-block table, a cordless phone to his ear and his fingers crooked through the handle of a maroon coffee mug. He hadn’t seen her yet, and she took the opportunity to study him.

  He wore dark slacks and a fresh white silk shirt with a red-and-navy-striped tie expertly knotted at his throat. Gold cuff links gleamed at each wrist, and a gold watch flashed when he pulled back one cuff to check the time. He’d propped his ankle on his knee, revealing black wing tips that had been buffed until they glowed.

  He seemed to be enjoying the conversation. His tone was light and teasing, his smile quick to appear at something said on the other end of the line. Kerry gazed at him with a mixture of affection and desire that she realized could easily deepen to something more permanent. Until she understood his heart, she’d have to be cautious to protect her own.

  She walked forward and he glanced up. His smile faded and the sparkle of light humor left his eyes. His gaze searched hers as she walked toward him.

  “Well, time for me to get to work, punkin,” he said. “Say hi to Grandma and Grandpa…. Okay. Talk to you tomorrow.” He snapped off the phone and put it on the table next to his coffee cup. “Good morning,” he said in an even tone. Questions lurked in his eyes. “Coffee?”

  “I’ll get it.” She moved to the coffeemaker, where a second mug sat, and poured herself a cup. “That was Rachel?” she asked, her back to him.

  “I call her in the morning.”

  She turned, the warm mug to her lips. “Every morning?”

  “Yes.”

  “What a loving thing to do.”

  He stood and came toward her. “She’s important to me.”

  “I could tell from the way you talked to her.” Kerry cradled the mug in both hands, glad to have a prop as they felt their way back to the ease they’d enjoyed the night before. “She’s lucky to have you.”

  “I’m lucky to have her.” He paused a few feet from her and they studied each other for a long moment.

  “I don’t know what to do next,” she said softly. “You look so…dressed.”

  “To hell with that.” He took one stride forward and took the mug from her hand. He set it on the counter behind her and drew her into his arms.

  She sighed and slid her hands up his back, over the smooth expanse of silk. “Mornings after are so tough.”

  “I thought you might wake up with regrets,” he murmured against her temple.

  “No.” She nestled closer, inhaling the crisp scent of his after-shave. “You?”

  “No. I have no idea how this will work out, but I’ll never regret what happened between us last night.” He pushed her hair aside and kissed her neck. “When I saw you standing there looking like a woman who’d been making love all night, I wanted to turn the clock back and start all over.” He nipped gently at her throat and she arched against him in response.

  “But the clock ticks on,” she murmured.

  “Unfortunately.” He lifted his head and gazed down at her. “And we have some decisions to make.”

  “I don’t eat breakfast. Coffee’s fine.”

  “Bigger decisions than that.”

  Her stomach churned. She’d rather drift a while, but this man wasn’t a drifter. “Okay.”

  “Or we could avoid decisions and play coy little games.”

  “Such as?”

  “I could send you home in a cab, and then tonight after we inevitably end up at your hotel to make love, I’d go home in a cab, and so on, each of us pretending we’re acting on impulse.”

  She waited, wondering if this would be his noble speech about ending the relationship now before they became too involved. She was already too involved.

  “Or you could move in here for the rest of the time you’re in New York.”

  She caught her breath.

  “If you think the pressure would be too great—living with me—I’d understand. I’m not attaching strings to this, for either of us. I just want you close.”

  “Would anyone know?”

  “That’s up to you.”

  She realized the gift he’d just given her. If she chose to broadcast their relationship, he’d endure whatever insinuations came his way. But the insinuations would hurt her more than they would him. “Do you think… Should I consider going to another record company?”

  His gaze was steady. “That’s also up to you. I compromised our business relationship last night. I know that, and I’ll accept the consequences. If you’re uncomfortable with Lighthouse and want to try another company, I won’t stop you.”

  “I don’t want another company.” She smiled. “Besides, I don’t feel the least bit compromised.”

  A roguish look came into his eyes. “Then maybe I didn’t do it right.” He reached to loosen the belt holding the robe together.

  “Judd.” She squirmed away from him, although the look in his eyes brought desire rushing back. “You’re all ready for work, and I need a shower.”

  “All right.” He stepped forward, and before she understood his purpose, he’d swept her into his arms. The robe gaped open as he carried her down the hall, through the bedroom and into the bathroom.

  “What in—?” Her question ended in a shriek as he carried her into the spacious shower. In swift succession he put her down, shut the glass door and turned the water on full blast. “Your robe! Your clothes!” she cried. Then she couldn’t speak as he closed her mouth with a heated kiss.

  Gently he pushed the sodden robe from her shoulders. “Undress me, Kerry,” he murmured, licking drops of water from her cheeks.

  The warm water pulsed over her shoulders and streamed down her breasts as she loosened the soggy knot of his tie. “It’s ruined,” she whispered, pulling it free and glancing up at him through water-spiked lashes.

  “Damn things are useless, anyway. Except perhaps for this.” He looped the wet tie around her waist and drew her close, dipping his head to sip at each breast as water sluiced over the textured surface of her nipples.

  She looked at him through eyes heavy lidded with passion. “Your shirt’s soaked, too.”

  He straightened and brought the tie down, rubbing it lazily across her buttocks. “Then take it off.”

  The soft friction of the silk tie against her skin was incredibly arousing. Forcing herself to concentrate on the task he’d given her, she unbuttoned his shirt, transparent now and plastered to his chest. She peeled it back from one nipple and flicked her tongue over the hard peak. With her palm pressed against his heart to feel its rapid thrumming, she stripped away the other side of the shirt and repeated the gesture. Then she kissed and nibbled until his breathing grew ragged.

  “Very nice,” he said, his voice husky.

  He held his hands still when she reached to unfasten each cuff link. Then he had to drop one end of the tie as she pulled the shirtsleeve over his hand. He retrieved it from between her legs, and when the silk slipped across her aroused femininity, she gave a small gasp.

  Looking into her eyes, he drew the tie slowly back between her thighs. “I think I’ve found another use for this tie,” he murmured. Then he pulled the front end forward, slowly parting the delicate petals of her femininity with the damp silk. She cried out softly as the sensation shot through her. He pulled the silk back, then forward again as she moaned in reaction. Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes, and he captured her lips
with his own as he continued to move the tie lazily back and forth.

  The tender touch, so easy yet softly persistent, caught her by surprise. Her knees grew weak and she leaned against the shower wall.

  “Good?” he whispered, cinching the loop a little tighter.

  Her sigh was the only answer he seemed to need as he gradually increased the pressure. The tension mounted until finally she gripped his shoulders for balance as she began to lose control. Gasping, she closed her eyes and gave herself up to a shattering climax.

  Dropping the tie to the floor of the shower, he kissed her eyelids and ran his tongue over her parted lips as he held her close. “I’ll never call those things useless again,” he whispered.

  Gradually sanity returned. She would repay him in kind. She opened her eyes and found the answering fire in his. “I don’t think we’re quite finished with this shower,” she murmured, unbuckling his belt and drawing the zipper down. His underwear, too, was soaked, and when she uncovered the firmness of his erection, she was surprised the briefs weren’t steaming. Kneeling in the pounding spray, she kissed him there and reveled in his intake of breath. She pulled off his shoes and stripped off his socks. He kicked away the last of his clothes.

  The water coursed over them and she followed its trail with her tongue down his muscled calves and behind his knees. He began to tremble as her kisses charted the flat plane of his stomach and moved lower. She tasted the salty magnificence of him and he groaned deep in his throat.

  With water-slicked fingers and playful tongue she commanded his response and drove him slowly insane. Finally, palms braced against the glass shower wall, he surrendered to her assault as her name escaped his lips in a hoarse cry.

  * * *

  JUDD WAS NEVER LATE for work. Today he was, but that was the least of his worries. He strode past Lois and asked her to hold his calls for half an hour. He needed time to think.

  Gazing out his window at Rockefeller Center, he wondered what the hell he thought he was doing, moving Kerry in with him while she was in New York. And the deed was done. By now a trusted employee at the Salisbury had packed her things and sent them via Zorba over to his apartment. She was probably dressing now, preparing to come to the studio. But he’d take care to avoid her. They’d decided on that course, at least.