by Неизвестный
‘You and me,’ he said.
Somehow she shook her head in denial and attempted to pull away. He held her fast.
‘There is no you and me,’ she lied painfully. Her body language, however, told the real truth.
‘There is.’ His eyes gleamed beneath hooded lids. ‘I wish there weren’t but...we can’t ignore it.’
Ignoring her little whimper of protest, he drew her more securely into his arms. She trembled, betraying how close she was to surrender.
‘Adam. . . ’ she mumbled in dismay.
‘I want you!’ he muttered fiercely, almost despairingly. She felt herself melt into him. With a low growl in his throat that created primitive curls of anticipation throughout her whole body, he slowly, tantalisingly, lowered his mouth to hers. Their lips were almost touching. But not quite. She stood there helplessly, all her nerves knotted and expectant, her mouth tingling as she waited in the breathless silence. Through hazy eyes, she watched his lips become fuller, the sensual arches more strongly carved. And she knew that she was responding in the same way, her teeth gleaming like his, her shortened breath mingling with his, sharp and hard.
Just as she thought she’d die of waiting, his mouth touched hers with an incredible gentleness. A groan and a shudder ran through him. And suddenly he was kissing her with a ferocity which she welcomed because she could press fiercely against him and release some of the suppressed hunger at last. She closed her eyes ecstatically, slipping her hands up to cradle his face, touching the smooth forehead. Drifting her lingers over his angled brows, she slid her palms to the strong neck.
Wonderful. . .all she’d ever dreamed of. Her love for him, the madness that possessed her, erased everything from her mind and left only an uncontainable joy which filled her whole being and made her body surge with happiness. Oblivious to everything but his kisses, she drowned in the delight of his searching mouth. His need excited her; she could hear it in the harshness of his breath, feel it in the frenzy of impatience as he clutched at her and subdued any likely protests with his hard, possessive kisses. For a moment he drew back, staring at her with a yearning, dizzying gaze, and then his mouth retumed to hers, kissing it tenderly, over and over again, till it felt warm and swollen and she was desperate for him to go further. His hand must have slipped beneath her shirt, because she felt his touch on the bare flesh of her high breast and heard his feral growl when he realised she wore nothing beneath. After a second or two of tense and vibrating silence, he gripped the edges of the fabric and wrenched the buttons free, exposing her nakedness. She waited in agony for their flesh to touch.
He was still. Somehow she made her heavy-lidded eyes open and saw that he was studying every inch of her: the soft curve of her shoulders, the hollow at the base of her throat, her throbbing, ripe breasts, already hard and engorged from wanting his touch for so long. His hands dropped away. His body was trembling as if it was under great stress. He didn’t touch her breasts as she expected, but leaned towards her so that only their lips touched. In that tantalising position, he teased her mouth till it parted. Even then, he held himself back, infuriating her, driving her crazy, her breathing becoming shorter with every languorous sweep of the tip of his tongue along the inside of her lips.
All the muscles in her body had turned to a flowing liquid. She could hardly bear the suspense and hated him for his extraordinary self—control. Blindly, she reached out for his waist, but he pushed her hands away, leaving her moaning in frustration. And then...and then... A shudder rocked through them both. His mouth was still covering hers, his tongue flicking now in and out between her lips, but he had imperceptibly touched the deep swell of each breast with his fingertips, brushing over the welling curves, and she was gasping, groaning, demanding...
‘I want you!’ she whispered helplessly.
Softly, sweetly, his mouth enclosed each desperate nipple, suckling with such a deep delight that shook her pro-foundly. Somehow they were moving from the room but the intensity of Adam’s assault didn’t lessen. Vaguely she was aware that they were in the hall, and then he had swept her up in his arms, raining passionate kisses on her face and throat as he stumbled up the stairs.
‘Trish, oh, Trish!’ he murmured urgently into her mouth. His desperation made her feel all-powerful and totally desirable. Abandoning herself to the moment, she took his face in her hands and kissed him deeply, feeling herself being lowered as she did so, and the softness of a duvet beneath her.
The whole length of his body covered hers, his weight a joy so welcome and overpoweringly erotic that she emitted breathy little gasps of pleasure. As Adam frantically fought to remove his shirt, her body arched in demand, her pelvis strained to his, unknowingly inviting him to make love to her totally.
He resisted her, preferring to delay, to tease and tantalise. Knowing this, aware he was finding it hard to control his hunger, she took the initiative. She didn’t want to wait. She wanted him now. She ran her hands over his naked torso and then impatiently fumbled with his belt, breathing out angry whimpers of fury when it refused to unclip. His hand covered hers, preventing it from continuing. Raging with passion, she flashed him a look of imperious demand. And then she was crushed to him, her mouth bruised with savage kisses, her body hard against his again, flesh to flesh, feeling his need, frightened and thrilled by it.
She loved him, she thought hazily, returning his kisses with a wild elation, and she knew that she had always loved him.
‘Make love to me!’ she whispered, her eyes bright with fevered adoration.
Adam’s eyes blazed into hers and in her heightened state she imagined they were full of pained love. She clung to him, captured by her own heart, while he kissed and touched her, skilfully removing items of clothing till they were both naked.
The feel of his body, strong, demanding and utterly virile, made her feel wonderfully feminine and alluring. She was more than ready for him, her body pliant and supple, open and welcoming.
‘I need you, Trish! I need you so badly!’ he gasped.
‘And I need you!’ Eagerly she guided him, bucking when he entered her, shuddering in shock, but her hands urged him on. ‘Yes, Adam! Oh, please". Yes...harder...faster, more? she implored.
Something took over her body——she wasn’t fully conscious of what she did, only that she was making love with the man she had always adored. Incredible elation filled every inch of her, a wild and unstoppable physical energy gripped her and she welcomed the fierceness of their loving, needing its roughness, slaking her thirst for his lips and satisfying the long—denied aridity of her body. I love him! she exulted, aware of nothing but sensation, every particle of her absorbed by Adam...her lover. And then they were both overcome by raw, primal responses as their bodies climbed to a shattering mutual climax which left them both slicked in sweat and incapable of moving or speaking.
They floated into a deep silence which was broken only by their regular, laboured breathing. Trish lay in a state of total bliss, every muscle loose and relaxed. Sleepily she was aware that Adam was tucking her up in the bed. Other than a smug smile of satisfaction, her only reaction was to hold out her arms to him, and she fell asleep almost instantly, cuddled up in his protective embrace.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE dawn chorus shot Trish into a brutal awareness. For a brief moment she lay snuggled in the curve of Adam’s naked body, his arm flung possessively across her, his hand resting on the swell of her hip.
And then a coldness stole through her, chilling her to the bone. What had she done?
She grew rigid with horror. Adam loved someone else. Louise had been betrayed by them both. Trish’s eyes widened in utter dismay. She’d made a mockery of everything she believed in: fidelity, honesty, consideration for others... Suddenly she felt sick with shame. A shaft of light gleamed on Adam’s gold signet ring and it flashed accusingly at her. She had to get away! The thought of Adam waking, turning to her with a smile and caressing her, coaxing her to make love again, just filled her
with horror. Gingerly, she inched herself away from him, her heart in her mouth when he murmured her name and sighed in his sleep. Her alarmed eyes slanted to his face, her mouth trembling at his ecstatic smile and rumpled hair. Fiercely, she suppressed the quickening feelings of affection and forced herself to slide out of bed, tiptoeing to the bathroom. Shaking with misery, she turned the shower on and stepped into it. First scalding hot, then icy cold. He’d wanted her; she’d obliged. How tacky, cheap, nasty...!
She’d made a fool of herself. Last night had meant nothing to Adam—it had only been a bit of fun as far as he was concerned. Perhaps this was the first time for a while that he’d been parted from Louise and his sex drive had overcome his common sense. He’d be appalled too, she thought, wondering how they’d handle the situation. It would be so awkward and she felt dreadful.
And now her feelings for him were even deeper than before. Adam was the man she wanted. But he’d fallen for the beautiful Louise. Trish groaned in despair. Oh, God! I wish I didn’t love him! I wish I hadn’t let him make love to me...
She tried to cope by forcing herself to picture him at his wedding, then later with Louise’s baby in his arms. It was then that she realised something awful. They’d taken no precautions.
She could be pregnant! She gasped, her eyes widening as she remained rooted to the spot while she considered the full implications of their carelessness. It was a cruel irony—
a baby, fathered by the man she loved. Wonderful, but. . .not like this! She’d imagined marriage, a devoted husband, watching her family grow and... She let out a wail of anger at herself. God, she was stu—
pid. Stupid! Tears ran down her face, mingling with the warm jets of water, and she shivered from the shock.
‘Trish?’Her hand flew to her mouth at Adam’s concerned call, but she couldn’t answer.
‘Are you all right?’ There was a tap on the shower door. When she didn’t answer immediately, it was yanked open. Adam took one look at her and caught her wrist, drawing her out.
‘Leave me alone!’ she warned shakily.
'Why?'
He sounded very angry. Well, so was she! she thought as a warm towel was flung over her head and another was wrapped around her. She stole a resentful glance at him and saw his hair and his shirt were wet from the shower. He began to rub her dry and she winced.
‘You’re hurting!' she complained, her voice muffled from the concealing folds of the towel.
‘You do it, then. But get on with it. You’re shivering. Whatever were you up to?’
‘Thinking.’ Of a baby, she thought bleakly. Their child. Her hands began to shake with the awfulness of the situation.
He made no comment but drew her onto his lap where he patted her dry. Resting her against his chest, he then rough~dried her hair, whereupon she pushed him away, appalled at the strength of her feelings for him.
‘I’m going to get dressed,' she muttered, finding it impossible to meet his gaze.
‘And explain your reaction,’ he said quietly. Only then did her unnaturally bright eyes flash up to his.
‘ Explain! My God, Adam!’ she cried. ‘Where do I begin?
Don’t you feel any shame? Regret? Guilt‘?’
She stalked into her bedroom. He followed. She realised they’d have to talk this over and she steeled herself to face the inevitable embarrassment and his lame excuses. Feeling emotional, she dragged the big bath towel away from her body and flung it into a corner, completely indifferent to the fact that she was naked and his eyes were touring every inch of her. He wouldn’t touch her again; she’d see to that. She opened a drawer in the small pine chest and drew out the first items of underclothing she came to. When she threw him a cold glare, she saw how wet he was, droplets of water dripping from his flattened hair and water puddling around his feet on the cheap carpet.
‘You’d better get out of those wet things,' she said curtly. ‘And then get your own breakfast and pack.' Her chin jerked up. ‘The boat leaves just after ten.’
‘You think I should be ashamed,’ he said without emotion. Her eyes widened. ‘Only if you have any morals!' she snapped scomfully. ‘You’ve betrayed Louise! How could you forget your fiancée?’
‘You know how,’ he countered. ‘You did. And you forgot yours.'
‘But...’ That was what came of lying, she thought in exasperation. ‘We’re not officially engaged. We’ve known each other for ever. It’s taken for granted that we’ll marry. It’s not the same thing at all.’
‘You forgot him, nevertheless.' Taut in every muscle, he leaned against the dressing table, a foot or so away from her, and folded his arms in a very aggressive way. Thrown by the truth of that, she struggled into her T—shirt and jeans. ‘You——you confused me!’ she said feebly. He snorted. ‘And I tied you up too, I suppose? Stopped you from crying out? Be honest with yourself. Admit——’
Trish blanched at his cruelty. ‘I’m not used to skilled seducers!’ she Hung at him defensively, snatching up a hairbrush and tearing it through her tangles.
‘So I was good?’ he challenged, taunting her. She licked her lips. Understatement of the year. ‘You knew what you were doing. It was wrong,’ she said, refusing to answer such a question. ‘You’ve made a proper commitment to Louise and should have kept your hands to yourself.'
‘I know that only too well! But you wiped her from my mind!’ he said testily. ‘What does that tell you?’
‘That you’re faithless!’ she cried. ‘How dare you make me take the blame——?’
‘I blame you, I blame my reflexes-—’
‘Reflexes?’ she yelled, accidentally hitting herself with the hairbrush. She slammed it down, her eyes watering in pain. ‘Ye gods! You’re blaming your testosterone? Do you do this frequently?
‘No,’ he growled ‘Only once before. As you very well know!’ Hard·jawed, he reached out, a handkerchief in his hand.
She flinched. ‘Don’t touch me!’ she cried incoherently.
‘I suppose it’s my fault again! My Spanish blood! What was it you said? Something about the inhabitants of Bryher communing with Nature? This isn’t some hippie camp, with free love and nudity, Adam!’
‘Well, what do you think it is, what we feel for each other?’ he demanded roughly, his gleaming chest rising and falling in fury. ‘What shall we call it, Trish?’
‘Betrayal!’ she cried, her face aflame. ‘I have a boyfriend but I let another man make love to me. You conveniently forgot the woman you’re about to marry!'
‘I’m not proud of my loss of control.' His gaze swept over her. ‘This is terrible,' he said bleakly. ‘I should never have gone for second best.'
She felt her body contract with the insult. But he was right. She was second best as far as he was concerned.
‘You should never have gone for me at all!’ she shot at him.
It was her fault as much as his, she thought miserably. Both of them should have controlled their feelings. Adam had disappointed her. He was fickle—an opportunist, taking sex when and where he could find it without thought for the consequences. She felt sick again.
Trish passed a hand over her forehead and stared at her pale, huge~eyed face in the mirror. He’d fallen off the pedestal where she’d placed him. What kind of husband would he make if he could be so easily tempted?
‘I didn’t set out with that intention,' he said, tight-lipped.
‘What did you intend, then?’ she demanded.
‘You know perfectly well that we’ve both wanted to kiss and touch one another since we met in London,’ he said, his dark eyes accusing her. Trish was stunned into silence. Then her eyes blazed. ‘OK,’ he said, when it looked as if she might levitate in anger, ‘I know what you’re saying. That just because you want something it doesn’t mean you have to have it. I made a mistake. I didn’t know I’d gone too far, before it was too late. For that, I ask your forgiveness—’
‘You’re not getting it! I don’t know how you could treat Louise—and me-—
like this!’ Trish fumed. ·
‘For heaven’s sake, Trish!’ he said in exasperation.
‘Sometimes...sometimes resolutions and promises you make to yourself are impossible to keep.'
‘That’s a cop-out!’ she snapped. ‘When you got engaged, you made a choice. Monogamy isn’t something you make furniture with, Adam!'
‘No—I meant——’
‘You have no excuse and you know it!’ she raged on.
‘Were you after a bit of fun before your wedding? A quick fumble with good old Trish, because you thought she had the hots for you?’
‘Trish, don’t talk like that!’ he cried angrily, catching her roughly by the arms. ‘Listen to me,’ he ordered. ‘You don’t understand—’
‘I understand only too well!’ she stormed, wrenching herself away. ‘How can I ever face you again? Or Tim, or Louise? I’m ashamed of myself now. You’ve ruined everything! I always respected you, Adam! You were always special to me, more caring and less sex—crazy than younger men!’
‘That’s unworthy of you,’ he said, white—faced. But she wanted to plunge the knife in deeper. He’d hurt her. It was his turn to be hurt. ‘I don’t think so! Now it turns out you’re as callous and as casual about relationships as a bunch of young lads out on the pull! You didn’t even have the decency to take precautions!’
The blood drained from Adam’s face. He looked deeply shocked and Trish realised that he must be worrying about the possible consequences, because he was temporarily speechless. What was he scared of most? she wondered cynically. That she’d claim maintenance and he’d have to tell Louise what he’d done? She could see him shifting on his feet and scornfully supposed that he wanted to get away and put his mistake behind him.
Something sank in her heart and she knew it was the small scrap of hope that she’d nurtured there-—a hope that Adam had loved her all this time, and would do the decent thing. Too shaken to stand any longer, she sat on the bed, covered her face with her hands and groaned, loathing her selfishness, sickened by that forlorn hope. She’d wished misery on another woman. Never in her life had she believed she could consider hurting someone else. Forgive me, Louise, she pleaded with silent vehemence. The woman was blameless and deserved better. Trish slumped in misery, stricken to her stomach with the destructive fall-out from that one misguided surrender to her emotions.