HIS TENDER TOUCH

by Sharon Mignerey

  "Please," she repeated against his mouth. "More. I … want, need … more."

  Kissing her deeply, he withdrew slightly, then pressed into her. There was a fractional hesitation, then he slid fully in until his pelvis rested against hers. She groaned, her eyes wide. He held perfectly motionless, absorbing the pressure and warmth and softness squeezed around him. Nothing in his life had ever felt this good. Nothing.

  He brushed his lips across hers, then kissed her more deeply. She returned the kiss, and tried to move her hips toward him.

  "Shh," he murmured, stilling her movements. "Are you okay?"

  "I feel as though I'm going to split open."

  "I'm hurting you." He tried to withdraw, regretting he hadn't taken her more carefully.

  She clasped him more tightly with her legs. "Don't you dare leave me. And you're not hurting me." She brushed his cheek with her palm. "I think I was made for you."

  That simple declaration shattered the last remnants of his control, and he began to move. He crested to a higher plateau of sensation, expecting any moment to explode into release. Except release didn't come.

  In the moonlight, he watched her. Her features held intense concentration, and she panted as though she had been running a long, long time. Bracing his body on his elbows, he smoothed the hair away from her face. Her eyes opened once again, and she tried to smile.

  "You're beautiful," he whispered, bending to kiss her, possessing her mouth as thoroughly as he had possessed her body.

  Audrey felt as though she were riding a surging wave, thrusting her into sensations she hadn't dreamed existed. Her awareness narrowed to Gray and the pleasure his body gave hers. He felt like a missing part of her. She clasped him more tightly, and in response he gathered her even closer, body to body … soul to soul.

  She wanted to tell him how much she loved what he was doing, but she had no words. She wanted to show him how she felt, but could not. The feelings he evoked swirled to a single vortex that became tighter … brighter … stronger.

  Without warning, the pleasure spiraled to a peak, then shattered. Pure feeling enveloped her, more brilliant than the full moon. Piercing … sweet … fulfillment.

  Audrey held on to her only reality. Gray. He murmured words of reassurance and praise against her ear, holding her fully within his powerful embrace as though he sensed how much she needed him.

  The spasms slowed, and breathless, she pressed her cheek against his. His movements slowed, too, giving her sensitive flesh a moment's rest. He withdrew almost completely, then slowly entered again, repeating the languid thrusts that soothed and excited her at once. The beautiful, unbearable tension began to coil through her again, and as though he anticipated her need, his rhythm increased.

  Knowing what to expect this time, she held on to him tighter, seeking his mouth, wanting that mating as much as she wanted the other. His alluring heat accompanied the soar toward completion. Her senses heightened, and she became aware of everything. His scent … bunched biceps on either side of her shoulders … his hands cupping her face … his taste … the soft hair on his chest against her nipples … the pressure of his pelvis against hers … the feel of his thighs against the soles of her feet … his heat … the ragged rasp of his breath.

  Opening her eyes, she watched him. He looked like a man in great pain, and as pressure built inside her, she understood he rode a wave of consuming ecstasy as great as her own. The awareness she had the ability to bring that kind of gratification carried her own desire toward the pinnacle.

  Groaning her name, he buried himself within her again and again. His excitement, his pleasure in her body, carried her to a shimmering peak where she hung suspended within feelings too intense to bear, too beautiful to let go of.

  As before, her climax washed over her. She wrapped her arms and legs around Gray—the only solid, real thing in her universe. His release poured into her, his convulsive throbs igniting another spasm of purest pleasure within her.

  * * *

  Gradually, the moon slid across the night sky. Audrey must have fallen asleep, though all she remembered was holding on to Gray as though he were a lifeline after he collapsed on top of her. Then he cradled her in his arms as though she were precious, a feeling that she savored.

  Gray's breathing changed, and she realized that if he had been asleep, he had awakened. She felt him kiss her cheek, and she shifted her gaze from the bright moon to him. His eyes, as he looked down at her, were equally brilliant.

  "Hi," he said, his voice husky.

  "Hi."

  He raised himself on his elbows, and his gaze traveled from her face down to the shadowed cleft where their bodies touched, lingering at her breasts. She felt her nipples tighten in response.

  He groaned an instant before he bent and kissed first one, then the other. Sitting up, he pulled her across his lap. He put his arms beneath her back and her legs, then stood as though his arms were empty instead of holding 127 pounds.

  Being carried this way made her feel cherished as she never had before. Looping her arms around his neck, she pressed a kiss against his collarbone.

  Seemingly oblivious to their nakedness and the chilly air, he walked toward the edge of the overhang, then into the night toward the steamy pool.

  "What are we doing?" she whispered, intensely aware of his hands on her thighs and under her arms.

  "Taking a bath," he whispered back, a trace of laughter in his voice.

  "Why?"

  "Because I want to hold you in the water, and … because maybe you won't be so sore if you have a long soak."

  New awareness throbbed at her core, tingling in an intimate, tactile memory of his possession. Anticipation coiled through her, once more waking the ache only he could assuage.

  As they approached the pool, the air became thicker, the steam inviting. Carefully, Gray stepped into the water, gradually lowering her into its depths. The water felt welcoming, its warmth perfect. He found a stone seat at one edge, and sat down, still cradling her in his arms. Above them, the moonlight sifted through the steam, which wavered like gauzy streamers of white chiffon.

  Audrey felt as though they were sheltered inside a warm, protected cocoon. Gray smoothed his hands up and down her arms, then her back before sweeping down the length of her legs. When his palm slid back up the inside of her thigh, she sighed and opened her legs for him.

  He laughed softly. "So you like that."

  "You know I do."

  He cupped her with the palm of his hand, then eased one of his fingers between the folds. "Hurt?"

  She shook her head.

  "Tender?"

  She shook her head again.

  "Ah, sweet, sweet Audrey. You don't know what you do to me."

  As she felt his arousal pressing against her bottom, it was Audrey's turn to laugh softly. "You think not?"

  She shifted in his arms and straddled his lap. Leaning forward, she kissed him, then whispered, "Love me again."

  In answer, he put his hands beneath her bottom and brought her toward him. She sank down on him, his flesh even hotter than the water, and infinitely more pleasurable. She sighed.

  "I … like this," she said, testing the length of him.

  "I can tell," he said, his voice gritty.

  She moved slowly, intending to torment him as he had done to her earlier. Except the relentless tension curled through her once again, making her abandon all thought except to relieve the pressure building inside her. He brought her head down, and kissed her. Without warning, the climax consumed her. An instant later, he groaned, and she felt the pulses of his release. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her head against his shoulder. One of her palms slid to his chest, and she felt the race of his heart.

  Gray shifted them to a more comfortable position, still holding her on his lap, so only their heads were out of the water. They sat quietly for a long time. Audrey tipped her head back, the moon again brilliant, the eclipse completely gone. She stared at the spangle of st
ars flung across the sky, the night huge and timeless. What was real? she wondered, touching the tender marks on the back of her hand. The Indian woman? Gray?

  She turned her head toward him, seeing that he, too, was staring at the sky. Beneath the water, she sought his hand, twining her fingers with his.

  He brushed his thumb across her palm. Beneath the back side of her hand, she felt something smooth, round. Letting go of his hand, she searched the stone surface of their seat with her fingertips. She closed her fingers around the object and lifted it out of the water.

  Her bracelet.

  "Amazing," she breathed. "Look at that."

  "Told you we'd find it," he said, taking it from her and putting it around her wrist with the other bracelet.

  She touched the surface of the bracelet, relieved it had been so easily found. "That you did."

  He clasped her hand within his once again, and they leaned against the edge of the pool. Audrey closed her eyes and let the moment engulf her, simply enjoying the heat of the water, the crisp night air and the feel of Gray's body next to hers. If this was complete contentment, she wanted it forever.

  "Why?" he asked, the question so soft it might have been a lap of water against the edge of the pool.

  "Hmm?" she responded.

  "Why were you a…"

  "Virgin?" she finally finished for him.

  "Yes."

  "It … just sort of happened … or rather, didn't happen."

  He turned his head until she met his gaze. "It's a little unusual. What are you, twenty—?"

  "Eight," she finished. "My mom had a stroke eight years ago—not long after she was diagnosed with leukemia."

  "And you lived with her."

  Audrey nodded. "When I was nineteen or twenty, it didn't seem like such a big deal. Over the years, I had a couple of casual boyfriends, but … my situation kept things from getting serious, you know?"

  "It's a gift you should have given to someone special."

  Audrey turned to face him more fully. "I did."

  "You can't be sure of that." He traced the side of her face with his finger. "We hardly know each other."

  "We've shared more in the last twenty-four hours than most people do in months or even years. I know my own mind, Gray."

  "There are things you don't know—"

  "Gray." She touched his cheek. "You're right. I don't know your history, beyond being a cop-turned-sculptor. But I do know you're honorable, kind—"

  "I'm a killer," he said, his voice harsh, his judgment of himself breaking her heart a little.

  "I know. Richard told me." Hopefully, Gray would never guess how difficult it was to keep her voice even, though his admission tore at her. Whatever Gray called himself, she had no doubt it had been his only choice at the time and in the line of duty.

  "You know? And you gave yourself to me anyway?"

  "That's right," she returned. Whatever he had done, the man in her arms was all the things she had secretly dreamed for. Smoothing his hair away from his forehead, she added, "Maybe you killed someone, once. But I watched you this afternoon, and you had the opportunity to shoot Howard when he was driving away. And you didn't do it."

  "That doesn't prove anything."

  "To me, it was a lot. Richard taunted me not to trust you, which was sort of funny, since you had told me the same thing. But I knew, even then I could."

  "And look at what it got you—"

  "Life," she interrupted. "Life, when I surely would have died without your help." Her voice softened. "And greater pleasure than I ever imagined possible."

  He stared at her, his gaze intense. "I don't deserve that kind of trust."

  "Tough," she said, putting her hands around his neck, then easing her fingers into his hair. "If you want to fight with me, you're going to have to do better than this."

  "I don't want to fight with you," he whispered, touching her lips with his own.

  "Good," she said.

  Gray wrapped his arms around her, wondering how he was ever going to let her go. To the depths of his soul, he wanted to claim her as his woman. Was this how the cycle began? Needing one special woman so much you'd kill to keep her? The questions tore through him as his arms gently cradled her. He couldn't imagine hurting her. Had it started this way for his father, his brothers?

  He had been the first, and damned if he wanted anyone else touching her so intimately. And someone else would. His woman … a dream to forever be denied. He had watched the cycle too many times with his father and his brothers, and he knew what came after this fierce sense of possession. Jealousy. Violence. Remorse. It was a pattern he had vowed never to repeat. The sooner he let her go, the better.

  She lifted her face, kissed his cheek, then traced the line of his jaw with her lips. This kind of gentleness, this kind of trust, he had no defenses against. When her mouth reached his, he kissed her deeply, possessively.

  And damned fate for tempting him.

  * * *

  Much later, Gray carried her back to the campfire, drying her with his T-shirt, a favor she returned, taking as much time as he did. His big body fascinated her, and she doubted she would ever get tired of touching him. He made no move to escalate their gentle caring of one another into passion.

  It was another facet of the man she admired.

  So many things about the night tempted her to believe she was having a dream.

  The pleasure Gray had given her.

  The Indian woman.

  Audrey's gaze fell to the area around the campfire. Nothing was left of her. Nothing. Audrey touched her fingers to her hand, felt the tenderness where the woman had gripped her so tightly. But it wasn't proof she had really been here.

  Audrey sat down on their makeshift bed, the tarp rough against her skin, the scent of pine heavy in the air.

  "We're gonna freeze if we don't get dressed." He handed her a shirt.

  Her glance fell to his groin. He was aroused. Warmth flooded through her, and she reached for him.

  "Sure you want to get dressed?"

  He shuddered as her fingers closed around him, his skin hot beneath her hands. His eyes were tormented when they met hers.

  Lying down, she held out her arms. "It's okay."

  "We're not going to make love again tonight," he stated.

  "I want to." She traced a line down the center of his body. "You want to."

  "What I want…" He swallowed. "I don't want to hurt you."

  "You won't," she assured him. "Besides, I'm willing to risk it."

  "I'm not." He thrust her clothes into her hands, then put his own on. She watched an instant before reluctantly deciding he was right. The night was cold.

  After they were dressed, he lay down on the tarp beside her and arranged his jacket over them, gathering her closer into his arms. "I want to sleep with you in my arms."

  "I'd like that, too," she returned, laying her cheek against his chest. Beneath her ear, she heard the steady beat of his heart. The campfire was once again reduced to a few flames and red coals. Her arms tightened around Gray, and her eyes drifted closed. No home anywhere could feel better than this man and this place.

  For years, she had associated home with a cheery hearth and comfortable furniture. Gray's warmth was even more alluring, and she couldn't imagine being any more comfortable than she was in his arms right now.

  Gradually, the arousal faded into a feeling just as potent—belonging. The steady beat of his heart reassured her that she wasn't alone and lulled her toward sleep.

  One last time, her gaze lit on the small campfire. What had happened to the Indian woman and her child?

  * * *

  Hours later, she felt Gray gently shake her awake. Where her body nestled against his, she was warm.

  "Time to go," he said, sitting up.

  "Already?" Pale sky had replaced the canopy of stars, but sunrise was a mere promise. She sat up, then shivered. "Why so early?"

  He nodded toward the trail. "Hear that?"


  She cocked her head to the side, listening. The faint rumble of a vehicle. Alarm, too familiar now, settled in her belly.

  "If that's Howard, aren't we better off staying here? Hidden?"

  "We'd be trapped." Urging her off the bed, he gathered up the tarp and shook it out before folding it. "And we need help."

  "We've done okay so far."

  "We've been lucky."

  "Where are we going?"

  He stuffed the tarp into his backpack. "Hawk's place. He keeps a herd of horses between here and the ranch. That also gives us transportation so I can get you to safety."

  "If transportation, as you put it, was so easy, why didn't we go there yesterday?"

  "Yesterday we would have been caught out in the open. He pointed toward the trail. "Listen."

  They fell silent, and once again heard the rumble of a vehicle.

  "I think he found the trail we left when we climbed the mesa. It's only a matter of time before he backtracks and starts checking the side canyons. If we can get to Hawk's place while Lambert is looking up here, we'll be safe."

  Everything Gray said made sense. Sensible or not, she felt as though he was pushing her away.

  She stepped close to him, looped her arms around his waist and kissed his cheek, which felt sandpapery beneath her lips. "Did I dream last night?" she whispered.

  He put his arms around her and rested his cheek against her hair. "Which part?"

  "The eclipse? The Indian woman?"

  He took her hands from around his neck and examined them. Even in the predawn light, several dime-size bruises showed clearly against her pale skin. Gently, he smoothed his fingers over each one. "That could have been a dream."

  "And making love with you?"

  He met her gaze. "That could have been a dream, too."

  She smiled and lifted a hand to his face. "I'd like to have that particular dream again, then."

  He turned his face far enough to kiss her palm. "Me, too."

  Within minutes, they took apart the camp, returning the pine boughs to the base of the towering ponderosas, dousing the campfire, then covering it with a layer of soil. As they left the camp, Audrey looked back one last time. Again, the transparent mist shrouded the stone pond. To her, it looked as though no one had been there in a long, long time.