Seducing Sullivan

by Julie Elizabeth Leto

  “I’m essentially the same, just older.” Now wasn’t the time to go into specifics. “But do you want the same person I was ten years ago—a juvenile gigolo who didn’t have the sense to hold onto the one decent girl who ever dared to be interested in him?”

  For the briefest instant, Jack glimpsed fear in her eyes. He’d hit a sensitive spot. Sure, he’d hoped Angela would be at the reunion—still single and perhaps open to rekindling the sparks she’d doused in their youth. But he’d never expected his prairie angel to have turned into a wanton temptress. Part of him reveled in the prospect. The other part mourned.

  She splayed her hands on his chest, running them under his jacket until she reached his pounding heart. “If I’m not that good girl anymore, Jack, are you still interested? Or were you just playing games back then, trying to get one of the last senior class virgins into your back seat?”

  She moved her face closer to his. Her breath warmed his lips.

  “I played a lot of games with you, angel,” he admitted.

  “Then why not continue?” She punctuated her sentence with a kiss—a brief touch, barely enough to leave her scarlet lipstick on his mouth. Her eyes remained open, and he couldn’t tear his gaze from hers. He could read nothing there beyond the promise of a blinding, almost wrathful passion that would ensue if they carried this further.

  When he heard the crowd approaching from behind, Jack didn’t know if he was frustrated or relieved. He stepped back, fighting a flash of guilt that rode on the same wave of nostalgia that had brought him home.

  Angela grabbed him by his lapel and pulled him close. “I came here for you. Don’t tell me you’ve changed so much you aren’t turned on.”

  “I can’t deny that. But maybe I have changed enough to want to know why you want me.”

  She avoided his question. “We have company.”

  A dozen of their classmates poured from the hotel and pulled lounge chairs around a distant corner of the pool. They tossed out beer and wine coolers and started their party again. Someone snapped on a radio but turned down the volume as the music echoed against the hotel rooms that formed a semicircle around the pool. Mike Nichols, class clown extraordinaire, waved to Angela and Jack before his wife admonishingly slapped him on the shoulder.

  Jack nodded in acknowledgment, then turned his back, shielding Angela from the cluster of prying eyes.

  “You didn’t answer my question, angel. Why now?”

  Her gaze darted from his, then quickly returned. Again, the hesitation. It was almost as if she was persuading herself to go through with her seduction.

  Before he called her on it, she spoke. “When we were in high school, you all but begged me to sleep with you. I don’t think you ever realized saying no wasn’t easy for me.”

  “But you did. Many times.”

  She looked down. Her dark lashes formed a delicate fan on her fair skin. When she looked up, the flecks of green in her hazel irises intensified, made glossy by moisture forming around them. “Then just when I decided to say yes, you didn’t ask.”

  He braced himself by widening his stance. “What are you talking about?”

  “Do the words ‘prom night’ mean anything to you?”

  Her words hit him like a blow to the gut. He would have backed away again, but she still held fast to his lapels. Her melancholy expression changed suddenly to bitter anger. Fists clenched his jacket.

  “I wanted to give you the most special present I could think of, Jack, but you left me on the dance floor before I had a chance. Do you know how that made me feel?”

  The words tumbled out, deliberately quiet yet painfully loud as his brain spun in a time warp to the night in question. He shook his head. Contrary to what she probably believed, Jack remembered their prom as vividly as she did, though for entirely different reasons. He had every excuse to forget that night, but not because of Angela. They’d had a fight. He’d called her those awful names. They’d broken up. It was what happened after his departure that he wanted to erase.

  “I had no idea.” He met her gaze with all the sincerity he possessed. The regret he’d harbored all these years escalated like a category-one hurricane hitting the Gulf Stream. How could he have been so blind? Girls like Angela didn’t make decisions to sleep with their boyfriends lightly. There must have been clues—clues he stupidly ignored—and he hurt her in the process. “I swear to you.”

  Her mood quickly changed again, back to the seductive sprite who’d tempted him so deliciously all night. Her smile was slight, her eyes narrowed. “Of course you didn’t. We got into some silly fight before I had a chance to show you how I felt. Richard Lassiter took me home after he and Chryssie had one of their usual knock-down-and-drag-outs. We were a pretty pathetic couple, he and I. I was even home before midnight.”

  Jack mulled over her confession, then thought about the last ten years. How would his life have been different if he had known? What about hers? Was it too late to find out?

  “But that’s the past, Jack.” She tugged him a little closer. “I made up my mind a few years ago that I was going to find out what I’d missed. Any objections?”

  This time her kiss was more demanding, immediately bringing Jack to the present. Her lips were warm and open to him, and she tasted like sweet brandy. Her tongue didn’t wait for his conquest, but began one of its own. Only moments passed before he remembered their rhythm, how she always tilted her head to the right, how she slid her arms under his and molded herself to his chest.

  Then he thought of the heat he’d felt when he rolled down her stockings and how strong and smooth her legs were against his wandering fingers. He longed to explore the rest of her. Were her breasts still as round and inviting as they’d been when they were forbidden? Did she still have that crescent moon birthmark on the small of her back?

  Would she still moan when he crooked his finger under her chin and then bathed her face in featherlight kisses?

  The pressure of his need grew fierce. He ached to carry her to the beach, lay her on the sand and discover the depths of her passion. He’d come home searching for his lost innocence. He’d come in search of Angela. Now he’d found her, wrapped in provocative clothing and speaking with bold innuendo. And yet, brief hesitations and quivering hands hinted his angel hadn’t changed as much as she wanted him to believe.

  She broke the kiss, panting slightly. She grabbed the handkerchief from his coat pocket, then dipped the dark cloth into the moisture that had gathered between her breasts.

  “I’m hot out here, aren’t you?” She took the corner of the linen and smoothed away the lipstick stains from his mouth.

  “Is that a trick question?” He could barely breathe. His tie choked him like a hemp noose, and sweat trickled down his back, pasting his shirt to scorched skin. Yet he knew the fire fevering him couldn’t be cooled with water or ice. He needed Angela to douse this flame as only a woman could.

  As only this woman could.

  “It’s always cooler near the water,” she suggested, sliding off the concrete wall and taking the two small steps to the low gate leading to the beach. Her hands furrowed into a stack of oversize towels left by the resort staff for patrons taking late-night swims. “Want to take a dip?”

  “Swimming in the gulf at night is dangerous.” She’d lived in the state all her life. She knew the perils as well as he did, maybe better.

  But the fiery glint in her eyes verified a secret wish.

  The danger turned her on. He turned her on.

  “You’ll protect me, won’t you, Jack?”

  She lifted two fluffy towels, hugged them to her chest and started toward the shore.

  For a tortuous moment, Jack watched Angela disappear down the driftwood walkway, past the reach of the dimmed resort lights into the inky blackness of beach and surf. The clouded sky and slivered moon muted her form like a mist, surrounding her like an ethereal creature of fantasy and dream.

  Had he the patience, he would have marveled longer at the
irony. He’d come to the reunion to rediscover the lost innocence of his youth—an ideal fairy tale conjured by his jaded soul. Instead, he found Angela transformed into a siren, capable of seducing his soul away from him.

  But his patience ran out a long time ago. A decade ago, to be exact. With a cursory thought to the condom in his wallet and the crowd around the pool, he slipped off his loafers, tossed them beside Angela’s abandoned strappy heels and followed the path her bare feet left in the sand.

  She stood beside the darkened pier, the towels spread at the shore’s edge, her bare back glistening in the moonlight. Questions flew through his brain like shooting stars—each blazing, yet too quick for a mind befuddled by raw desire.

  Except one.

  “What do you want, angel?”

  He placed a downy kiss just below her ear, then lower, feathering warmth along the base of her neck. She cooed and hugged herself, torn between languishing in the tingly sensation shooting through her body and fighting the overwhelming need to run away. Smoothing strong hands down her arms, he worked them free, then maneuvered her in a half circle until she faced him.

  “Tell me what you want,” he insisted again.

  Lord, didn’t he know? Couldn’t he feel her heart hammering against her ribs? Couldn’t he sense the quivering of her skin? Didn’t he realize that if he released his arms from around her, she’d probably fall to the sand like a castaway shell?

  “I want you.”

  A grin shaped his lips and lightened his eyes. “How do you want me? Do you want me here? Now? In the water or on the towels? Clothed or naked?”

  She shook her head as emphatically as she could while he renewed his attention to her neck. She tugged at his lapels, removed his jacket and tossed it to the ground. “I don’t know. I don’t care.”

  He stepped back. “You have to care, angel. I want you to know exactly how you want me before I proceed.”

  She eyed him warily, then felt a wicked smile spread on her face. “You’re teasing me. You’re drawing this out.”

  “Ten years have passed since I last tried to seduce you.” His forehead creased slightly, betraying the gravity of his words. “This is already drawn out. Tell me what you want.”

  Her gaze focused on the towels she’d tossed to the sand. They reminded her of the countless times he’d tried to make love to her in high school only to be thwarted by her fears. She wasn’t about to make that mistake again. It had cost her ten years of wondering what she’d missed.

  “I want tonight to be like prom night would have been.”

  His smile was lopsided. “I was pretty clumsy back then.”

  She shook her head. “Feel free to add any improvements in your technique.”

  He slipped his hands into his pockets, a smile glittering in his eyes.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked, unable to suppress an uncomfortable giggle.

  “This.” Again, the memory of the innocence he’d long since lost came crashing at him like a wave in a storm. His palms were sweaty, and his heart raced double time. Only Angela could do this to him. Only Angela could fill him with that delicious uncertainty that made every moment an adventure and every instant a discovery.

  “I feel like I should check my watch to make sure I get you home before curfew.”

  She slid her hands up his chest and clasped them around his neck. “We’ve got all night, Jack.” Kissing the tip of his chin, she combed her hands into his hair. “Make love to me, Jack. We’ve waited long enough.”

  2

  RELUCTANTLY, Jack unhooked Angela’s arms from around his neck and guided them to her sides. He tugged off his tie, then opened the top button of his shirt.

  She stood nearly motionless, her only movement the capture of her bottom lip between her teeth.

  “You’re willing to surrender your soul to me, angel?”

  Her voice wavered. “Maybe just a little piece. For a little while.”

  “I want more.” He leaned forward and kissed her left temple, inhaling the subtle scent of her perfume—a familiar fragrance that reminded him of football games and video arcades. “I won’t hurt you.”

  But he had once. Tonight gave him the chance to undo all the wrongs he’d pressed on the one woman who deserved nothing but tenderness. As sophisticated and elegant as she looked this evening, her eyes betrayed the shadow of the innocent, naive girl she’d once been—the girl he needed to save his battered soul.

  She swallowed deeply then reached behind her to undo her halter top.

  He took her hands in his and kissed her knuckles. “Let me do that. I would have, back then.”

  “Would have what?”

  He encircled her waist with open hands. “I would have taken this off…slowly. I would have savored every kiss, every touch, every peeling away of clothing.”

  Her left eyebrow lifted skeptically. “You think so?”

  “I would’ve tried. For you, angel, I would’ve tried.”

  His lips pressed against hers, softly at first, ensnaring her with a ribbon of blissful comfort that caused her muscles to relax from the top of her shoulders to the ends of her toes. She didn’t trust him, really—she couldn’t, after all she knew about him. Yet in this, she felt safe. He couldn’t hurt her. To hurt her, she’d have to really care about him, like she thought she had before.

  But she didn’t anymore. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

  She parted her lips and allowed his tongue to slip inside. His hands did no more than knead her waist and hips, but the fire between them needed little kindling. She pressed against his full, muscled length and dug her fingers into his skin.

  Their kiss grew ravenous when his hands dipped to cup her bottom. She was flooded with the delicious thrill that once accompanied such a simple indulgence—and still did. Her skin prickled with a wicked warmth.

  His lips left hers to trail once again to her neck, where he suckled her pulse points and nipped at her ear. She leaned her head back, moaning as his deft hands undid the hooks of her halter top, untied the back, then slid down to undo the zipper on her skirt. With a gentle tug, the crepe fell to her ankles, leaving her in nothing but panties and garter belt, the straps dangling and tickling her bare thighs.

  Silently, she unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, pulling the crisp material away from his broad chest and over his muscled shoulders as slowly as she could. She ran her hands down his chest, watching her fingers mingle in the curled chest hair, feeling the taut sinews beneath his skin, wondering if she would have had the confidence to appreciate such male beauty before.

  “Did I ever touch you like this?” She undid his belt and zipper, then splayed her fingers around his tapered waist, dipping into the waistband of his briefs.

  His heavy eyelids and slightly opened mouth gave her the answer she sought.

  “What a fool I was,” she murmured.

  He grabbed her elbows just as his pants fell to the ground. “You weren’t a fool, angel. You were wise to stay away from me. To keep me away.” He pulled her to him, so close she could see the darkened pupils of his eyes. “I wouldn’t have gone slow. I would’ve fumbled and groped, and it would’ve all been over in a New York minute. But not now, angel. Not tonight.”

  He wrapped one arm around her and lifted her with the grace of a dancer.

  “Tonight—” he punctuated his promise with a kiss on the tip of her nose “—I’m going to make up for the ten years we could have had.”

  Spoken with such assurance, his pledge nearly rocked her resolve. If she’d made love to him then, would they still be together now? Impossible. They’d been children, teenagers with little in common except an interest in journalism and unrequited lust. Consummating that lust would only have ended their dalliance sooner, as it would now.

  Wouldn’t it?

  His lips banished the question from her mind, intoxicated her with his taste, his scent. His muscled arms held her tight and secure against any residual fear or doubt. Even when she heard his feet splash in
to the water and felt the tepid gulf water rising around them, she thought of nothing but taking his body into hers.

  When the water reached his waist, he lowered himself to his knees, immersing Angela to the tips of her breasts. The entwined sensations of warm water, cool night air and Jack made her nipples pucker and darken. When he turned her and guided her legs around his waist, she moaned. He was thick and long and ready. But the sound of her need died against the pressure of his lips and tongue. Her flesh thrummed. Her blood pounded. The lapping of the water against the pier faded beneath the allegro cadence of her heart.

  They kissed for what seemed like forever. Finally, they broke, gasping as if they’d been submerged. He lifted her higher and gazed at her hungrily.

  “You are still so gorgeous.” He placed a surprisingly sweet kiss in the valley between her breasts, then nuzzled his nose against her moist skin. “How could I have ever…”

  His sentiment died on his lips, lips he used instead to bath her in langorous kisses. His hands on her rib cage, he lifted her breasts, flicking her nipples alternately with tongue and thumb pad until she threw back her head and murmured his name.

  He eased her down, thrusting his sex against hers, using the friction of flesh and saturated material to intensify the sensations ravaging her body. He kissed her hard, with precision, as if he took in every measure of her mouth with his tongue and her body with his hands.

  “Oh, Jack,” she cried, not knowing when, if ever, she’d felt so trapped and so free at the same time. Jack held a portion of her heart like a sparrow in a cage. Only his touch could free her—and send her soaring. She reached into the water, grasped the edge of his briefs and tugged.

  “Not yet, angel. Hold on.”

  She shook her head, dizzy with desire, weakened by need.

  “Just a minute more. Heaven’s just a minute away.” He caressed her buttocks and hips, kissed her shoulders, slid a wet hand up her spine, bracing her as he carried her from the water and placed her on the thick towels she’d draped along the shore.