Her eyes blazed. So did her face. "I've explained why I decided to stop what was happening."
"Fair enough." Not fair enough, but he'd return to the point after he'd got her to explain the rest of her behavior. "I've already told you I came back here because I couldn't let you go like that—not without trying to find out why. And you know why I went to the back of the lodge. Now it's your turn, Chill."
"No one calls me that anymore."
If he couldn't find a way to not only warm her up, but keep her warm, the nickname was going to become all too appropriate. "Why don't you tell me why you turned into a hairbrush-wielding dervish?"
"Either someone tried to scare me badly tonight, or there was a ghost hanging around in this room when I got home."
As casually as possible, Sebastian removed the cloth from his face. "I assume you're joking about the ghost. Do you mean someone was in the house waiting for you?"
She focused on him again, rose to her knees, and took his left hand in both of hers. "Your knuckles. Oh, my. Oh, darn it. I hit your knuckles, too, didn't I?"
He sighed and settled a brave expression on his battered face. "Don't give it another thought. It hardly hurts at all anymore."
"Good."
So much for masculine bravery bringing out the protective urges in women. "I'd better check this place out."
Bliss shook her head. "No need."
"You're probably right. But I ought to make sure."
"There's no one here anymore."
Sebastian considered her serious face before saying, "How can you be sure of that?"
"I just am. I'm used to being here on my own. If there was anyone here, I'd feel it."
"And you felt someone here earlier?"
"Yes. We don't have to talk about it anymore, do we?"
"Not if you don't want to."
She laced her hands in her lap. "I don't."
"This is an interesting room."
"My aunt died here."
He dropped the washcloth.
Bliss picked it up, folded it again, and replaced it on his nose. "Some years ago. My father's sister. She was a lot older than him and a bit strange, but we liked each other."
Sebastian glanced at the simple brass bed with its white chenille spread. "That's not the bed?"
Bliss looked at it, too, and frowned. "Oh, no. No, Auntie Blanche didn't die in that bed. I bought that one. Her bed used to be there." She pointed at the location of Sebastian's chair.
He overcame the urge to get up.
"When this was three bedrooms she slept in the middle one. Do you believe in ghosts?"
Sebastian smiled slightly. This girl—this woman of his had gone off on conversational tangents from the day they'd met. "No, my love, I don't believe in ghosts."
"Auntie Blanche used to ring the bell when she wanted something."
"Really?" Sebastian said. In this light, her hair was more red than brown. Her eyes were navy blue, and distant.
Bliss grinned, and was once again the seventeen-year-old he'd fallen in love with. "She was over eighty when she died," she said. "A demon, really. She liked being up here and making everyone come over and run around after her. I was the one who loved to come. It was better here than at home."
He met her eyes and she looked away. "When we were kids you made me want"—he leaned forward and offered her his hand—"you made me want to be the best I could be."
"I know."
They'd never needed to fill in all the blanks. So often they hadn't had to say a word to be understood. "Come on," he said, wiggling his fingers. "Hold my hand."
Bliss looked at it. "You did that in the cafeteria."
"That first day. Yes, I know. And you finally put your hand in mine."
She put her hand in his now and he closed his fingers around her slight palm and wrist.
"Think there's anyone watching?" He pulled her a little nearer. "To make sure I earn my bet?"
Bliss held her bottom lip in her teeth.
"Maybe Auntie Blanche?"
She tried, unsuccessfully, to pull her hand away. "You are dreadful, Sebastian. Always were. Always will be."
"Can't argue with that. At least, I was dreadful, but I'm not anymore. You live here alone?"
"Yes."
"I thought maybe the two blondes and the little boy shared the place with you."
"No. They use the bungalow that belonged to my grandparents. It's closer to the water."
"But you have tenants or something here."
"Not in the lodge. There are ten cabins on the property."
"Big place."
"Uh-huh. Unfortunately we're short of tenants at the moment, but we'll fill up again come fall. We always lose people in the summer."
"Has there been anyone special for you since? ..." He looked at the ceiling. "Sorry. One more thing I shouldn't have said."
"Do you care?"
Sebastian couldn't meet her eyes. "Yeah. I care a lot. I know I've got no right, but logic and feelings don't always have much to do with each other."
"They never have anything to do with each other."
He did look at her then, and at their joined hands. "We could
try starting from right now. This minute. Pretend we met for the first time tonight."
"No, we couldn't."
"No." But he felt a flicker of hope. "We can't because we've already shared so much. I'm glad we have. Not the bad stuff, but the best parts."
"Sometimes they were all I had."
Her words were a blow, and a caress. "I prayed I hadn't made it too hard on you, but I did, didn't I?" Sebastian asked.
Bliss scooted nearer. She settled her free hand on his knee and rested her cheek on top. "Not hard the way you mean. Sure it wasn't easy dealing with what some people said. But the hardest part was the way you . . . You just disappeared. One minute I was so happy I could hardly bear it. The next minute I was so broken up I thought I would die. And there was no one to ask. No one to ask what had happened. There were all the rumors, but nothing definite. I never met your folks, so I couldn't try to ask them. I didn't even know exactly where you lived and there wasn't anything in the phone book."
"My father didn't believe in listed telephone numbers. If someone ought to be able to reach you, they'd know your number because you gave it to them." He stroked her hair. Each time he raised his hand, soft strands clung to his skin—threads of red silk. "I want you, Bliss. I've never stopped wanting you."
"I'm not the girl you left behind."
Very carefully, he bent to kiss the back of her neck.
She buried her face against his thigh, rubbed the long line of muscle from his knee to his groin and back.
Sebastian was instantly hard. He held still.
"Why can't I resist you?" she asked.
"Because I'm a lucky bastard."
"Don't!" She raised her face to glare at him. "Why must you?—"
"Tell the truth?" He chuckled at her horrified expression. "See? I haven't really changed. I still can't help saying things just to shock you. Bliss, can I stay with you tonight?"
Her face grew even paler than usual, her eyes even bigger and darker.
"Just to make sure you're safe," he added hurriedly. "You go to bed. I'll sit here and keep watch."
An instant wash of pink covered her cheeks. "You mean you don't want to sleep with me?"
For a second Sebastian's mind went blank.
"Oh, darn," she said. "Why do I always make such a fool of myself? I'm fine, really I am. Thanks for being concerned, but I don't need you to stay."
"I want to sleep with you."
"Oh." The tip of her tongue curled upward over her top lip. A small but visible shudder shook her. "Oh, I see."
Geez, how had he managed to botch this so badly?
"You mean go to bed with me, right?"
"Well, yes. Yes, I want to go to bed with you." First prize in the romance stakes, Plato.
Bliss got awkwardly to her feet and stood in front of
him. "I'm not really good at this."
Somewhere between asking to stay with her for the night—as if he wanted to borrow a quarter for a phone call—and pointing out, oh, so subtly, that, yes, he wanted to go to bed with her, this had not gone well.
She was frowning as if with deep concentration. "I'm not a complete novice. It's just that I've been pretty much tied up with making a go of this place in recent years. There hasn't been any time for—well, for the other."
"The other?"
The black dress might be loose, but the soft fabric settled intimately over her breasts. "You know. Men." Her bare feet were elegant, and her ankles.
"Men. Yes, of course." The fewer of those she'd had time for, the better. Not, of course, that he believed in double standards. "You've been busy, hm?" He braced an elbow on the arm of the chair.
"Very. I'm trying to make a go of it here without having to
ask my parents to release my trust fund. Daddy tied it up until I'm thirty-five. My parents still think I'm going through some sort of adolescent rebellion."
He didn't say he hoped good old Morris Winters hadn't found a way of spending her trust fund on his political campaigns.
"I don't want the money at all. I'm going to make it without it. I am," she said.
"I believe you."
"Should I take my dress off?"
Sebastian's elbow slipped off the arm of the chair.
She frowned again. "I feel funny."
He felt funny, too. "Come here." He might have made a mess of this so far. There was no reason to keep on making a mess. "Come on. I want to kiss you."
"Before I take my dress off?"
Sebastian got to his feet and pulled her into his arms. She'd feel what she'd already done to him, but evidently she wasn't in the mood to be leisurely.
Bliss wrapped her arms tightly around his waist and pressed her face to his shoulder. She was shaking! "What's wrong?" he asked her, rubbing her back, grimacing at the strength of his erection. "Why are you trembling?"
"Cold," she muttered.
It had to be eighty degrees in this room. "We'd better get you into bed."
She shook harder.
"Do you think you're getting sick?"
"No. Don't stop holding me. I think I need . . . Oh, the tension's too much. I need a release."
She needed a release? Sebastian caressed her shoulders, the tops of her bare arms. "Me too, love. I've waited so long for this."
Bliss extracted her arms and smoothed his chest. She concentrated while she unbuttoned his shirt. "I'm not going to think any farther than right now."
The desperation he heard excited Sebastian. He could scarcely
believe his luck. She was as aroused as he was. "Right now's enough," he told her. "For now."
"Does your head ache?" Bliss studied his nose closely.
Sebastian took advantage of the opportunity to kiss her. He discarded finesse. The pounding pressure building in his gut wasn't interested in finesse. Her mouth opened and her tongue met his. Their faces moved, slanted, their tongues reached for more.
Her spine was long, her waist small, her bottom rounded just the way he wanted it to be rounded. And she didn't even flinch when he urged her pelvis against his and ground their hips together.
She wanted release. He wanted release. They were going to get it. The trembling that overtook him came without warning. He flexed his jaw and fought for control. Wherever he touched her, she seemed to burn him. He couldn't let her go, couldn't stop if the lodge fell down around them.
"Sebastian?"
"Yes, oh, yes." He pushed a thigh between hers, pulled her dress up around her hips, allowed himself the luxury of a study of her very long, very smooth legs—all the way up to skimpy, orange lace and satin panties. Her buttocks tensed beneath his hands. The riding motion of her body on his thigh almost sent him over the edge.
Bliss's head fell back. She made incoherent sounds and clutched at his shoulders beneath his shirt. Her fingernails scraped his skin. He squeezed his eyes shut and enjoyed the pain.
"It feels so . . . so . . ."
Sebastian didn't ask her to finish the thought. He grasped her firm little bottom, smoothed the warm cleft through satin and lace, and kissed her throat.
Her skin was soft. He flicked his tongue beneath the neck of her dress and over the swell of a breast.
Bliss pushed away from him. Still trembling under his skin, Sebastian opened his eyes. He breathed through his mouth to steady his heart. "What?" he asked her. "What, sweetheart?"
She spread the fingers of her right hand on his bared chest. "You are so marvelous. I can't believe we're here, like this."
"Oh, believe it, love." He made a grab for her but she evaded him. "Bliss, honey, I'm dying. I need you."
"Yes, of course."
Yes, of course? She'd always had an oddly old-fashioned way of putting things. "Come to me. Come to me now."
Keeping her eyes on his, she crossed her arms in front of her, took handfuls of the black dress and pulled it over her head. She tossed it aside.
Sebastian's legs almost buckled.
Her hands went behind her, to the clasp of the wispy orange lace and satin bra that matched her panties.
"Wait," he told her, taking his fill of the way she looked. Long and lithe, gently flaring hips, the smallest of rises at her belly, the thrust of her mound and the suggestion of dark hair through lace. "We ought to do this together."
She dropped her arms.
Sebastian shed his shirt, then removed his jeans and shoes in one motion. When he stood naked before her, her lips parted and remained parted. Her eyes passed over him, lingering at points she couldn't possibly miss—and she swallowed.
"You need me," she whispered.
"You noticed." His attempt at a laugh didn't work. "I think we need each other. We've waited too long for this." But tonight the wait wasn't important, only being with her was important.
Bliss came toward him and he gasped with shock as she closed a hand around him. Watching his face, she stroked with a delicacy that winded him. "Oh, sweet lady. Oh, my sweet lady." Failing her tonight was out of the question. "Just a minute, Bliss. Slower, okay, love? I'm only human."
She released him at once.
Sebastian covered her uptilted breasts, dipped under the tops of low bra cups to graze her stiffened nipples.
"I feel so wonderful," she told him, almost as if she might cry. "Open, Sebastian. I feel open. Inside and outside. I never knew this was what I was waiting for. It couldn't be like this with anyone else."
"No." Following his fingers with his tongue, he bared a dark pink bud and made a wet circle without touching the urgent center. She cried out and moved, tried to thrust herself into his mouth. He smiled and brushed his beard-rough cheek over the tip of her nipple instead. "I want you to feel this all the way to your spine, my love. All the way to your womb."
"Sebastian," she moaned. "Please."
While she begged, she performed her own torture, finding and holding his penis again, cupping a hand under the weight of him and squeezing.
Unbidden, his hips began to move. "I don't think you'd better do that," he told her, hissing through his teeth. "Not if you want me to last as long as I want to last—with you."
"How long will that be?"
He paused an instant and looked at her, but her eyes were closed as she made a finger map of his male assets. "We got out of sync here, honey. I'm naked."
Her eyes opened at once. She released him and her hands went behind her back once more. The hook on her bra parted and she shrugged her shoulders forward, shedding the garment, spilling her wonderful breasts. Dropping the bra, she braced herself against Sebastian's waist while she pulled down her panties. She raised one leg to pull a foot free, then raised the other leg.
He couldn't resist the opportunity to slip his fingers between her vulnerable folds. The full flesh there met his touch, and the slippery evidence of how ready she was.
Bli
ss almost fell. Her foot hit the floor with a thud and her knees sagged. Sebastian worked the place that rendered her helpless, and relished the jut of her hips and the weak moans of pleasure she uttered.
When she started to pulse he withdrew his fingers and tipped her back over an arm. She clutched at him, but when he closed his teeth and lips on a nipple she let go. She let go and held her breast to his mouth. Shifting, she silently begged for the same sucking at her other nipple. Sebastian obliged and reached between her legs again at the same time.
Bliss sobbed. Standing on tiptoe, she contracted strong little muscles around his fingers and he felt the spasms break. Her eyes opened, fixed on his, and her color rose. "Foreplay," she whispered, breathless.
She was one of a kind. "Foreplay," he agreed. "Great hors d'oeuvres. I want to taste you."
She frowned, but he smiled and dropped to his knees in time to complete her climax. Holding her open with his thumbs, he gripped her groins and worked her the rest of the way, exulting in her shriek when release came.
The next instant, her knees joined his on the floor. "Incredible," she said. "Incredible, Sebastian. What do you like best?"
His shy little friend had come a long way. "I like everything. With you, I want it all."
She made to hold him again, but he stopped her, and kissed her instead. "You have a great mouth," he told her. "Use it on me, please. I'd like that."
He wasn't used to telling a woman what he wanted. He wasn't used to being asked what he wanted. But he could get used to it.
Bliss bowed over him. With the tip of her tongue, she touched the tip of his penis—quickly. He gasped, and reached over her back to smooth her buttocks.
"Is that what you want?" she asked.
He fought for control. "You're a witch. Great start, witch."
Her tongue curled around, and those straight little teeth tested as if to see just how hard he was. "Harder by the second," he said. "About to explode."
She kissed him there, many small, feathery kisses, and she stroked the insides of his thighs. "Good?" she asked.
"Damn good. I mean, very good." He groaned. "Take me in your mouth, Bliss. All the way in. Oh, yeah."
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