by Lori Foster
“Yes, I want you to.” Leaning forward, he kissed her, another light, teasing peck that he hoped would eventually evolve into more. “I want you to feel free to use me. To touch me whenever you want, to kiss me or look at me any way you choose.”
“I couldn’t.”
She said it, but she didn’t look sincere. He chuckled. “You already have. And I know if you’re this fascinated with my chest, the rest of my body has got to be of interest to you, too.”
She gulped, then heaved a big breath. “Are you saying you’d let me…”
“You didn’t finish your sentence.”
She licked her lips. Her eyes were bright and she had the most adorable expression on her face, a mixture of uncertainty and greed. “I don’t know if I could. I mean, I can’t predict when the fear will hit me.”
The words felt like a blow, erasing all his humor. “I know. And it doesn’t matter. If you change your mind, at any time, there’s no pressure. Just say no. That’s all.”
“You say that now. But if we’d already been…involved, you might feel differently.”
“And you’re afraid I’d lose control?”
“I don’t think you’d deliberately hurt me.”
He accepted the fact that it would take time to earn all of her trust, but it wasn’t easy. Determined to make as much headway as possible in the five days allotted to him, he decided to throw out the only viable solution he could come up with—even if the very idea of it made him uneasy. “If you ever start to worry about me losing control, you could always tie me to the bed.”
She stared at him, her eyes wide with incredulous surprise.
“I’m serious, Brandi. I want you to be comfortable with me, and if that’s what it takes, then so be it.” Seeing her reaction helped firm his resolve and returned his humor. “Of course, you’d have to promise to be gentle with me, to treat my poor body with respect.”
She gave him a playful smack while a grin tugged at her lips.
“And absolutely no tickling. I can’t stand it.”
“So you’re ticklish?”
He sent her a mock frown. “I don’t like that wicked gleam in your eye. Promise me right now.”
“All right. I promise not to tickle you.” Then she whispered, “Not while you’re tied down.”
He pretended to consider her words, while in truth he was thrilled at the easy way she bantered with him. And her tone, when she’d spoken, had been husky with promise, with expectation. More progress. At least, he chose to see it that way.
“All right, we’re agreed.” Then he reached around her for the remote and switched off the television.
With obvious alarm, Brandi stiffened in his arms. “What are you doing?”
“Not what you probably imagine.” He tugged on a glossy dark curl that laid over her temple. “Did you think I planned to stand up and strip off my jeans?”
“I don’t know.” She searched his face. “None of this is like anything I could have ever expected.”
“Well, you can relax. I just thought we ought to get some sleep tonight. It’s late.”
“Oh.” She looked down, but he hadn’t missed the disappointment in her expression. She started to rise. “I suppose I should get back to my bed.”
His arms tightened around her, keeping her gently in place on his lap. “Actually, I thought we might sleep right here. I’m comfortable, and after holding you this long, the thought of my cold lonely bed doesn’t appeal one bit.”
He could see how badly she wanted to accept, and tenderness the likes of which he’d never felt before threatened to choke him. She looked up, her gaze wary once again. “I’m not too heavy?” she asked.
“Honey, you don’t weigh any more than a blanket.”
“I might have another nightmare.”
Which was one of the reasons he wanted to keep her close. He’d do his best to protect her, even from her own demons. “If you have a bad dream, you can hold on to me. You won’t be alone.”
Tears welled in her eyes and he couldn’t bear it. He tucked her head under his chin, then stretched out his arm to grab a throw on the back of one of the chairs. He spread the cover over them, propped his legs up on the coffee table and leaned back. Brandi shifted a few times, making him painfully aware of his aroused state, but he gritted his teeth and held in his moan of pleasure.
“Sebastian?”
“Hmm?”
“Good night.”
Now, that felt right. Holding Brandi, listening to her gentle breathing, hearing her tell him good-night. It was something he could get used to, something he wouldn’t mind hearing for the rest of his life. He pressed his cheek to the top of her head and felt her wildly curling hair tickle his nose. So soft, so damn sweet. “Good night, babe. Rest easy.”
She sighed into him. “I will.”
And just as she’d done in the limo, she passed out, going boneless within a minute.
It took Sebastian longer to relax. He tried to remember what he’d been like, how he’d behaved, back when he’d first begun experimenting sexually. It was a very long time ago—a lifetime. He didn’t like remembering, because those days had been full of poverty and sadness and desolation. He’d started too young, trying to find comfort with the neighborhood women who needed the distraction as badly as he did.
After he joined the service, he’d gotten more particular, and there were times when he’d gone long stretches without the touch of a woman. Most times he hadn’t missed it much, but when he had, he’d easily found feminine comfort. And always, he’d stayed in control—no ties, no commitments.
Now here he was, fully committed to Brandi. Knowing she’d missed her sexual maturity filled him with a primitive greed, both emotionally and physically. She was his. Regardless of the rape, he would be her first man, her first lover.
She sighed in her sleep and he smoothed his hand over her waist, then down her hip to her thigh. It had been an automatic touch, not something calculated, but it thrilled him anyway. She felt so slender, so delicate. The flannel gown was soft and somehow suited her perfectly, though he thought her own skin would have suited her even better.
Images filled his mind and he closed his eyes, relishing them. She would be his, he was determined. He still had four days, and he’d make the most of them before his time was up.
First thing in the morning, he would begin.
He grinned, knowing what he planned was a little underhanded, but Brandi needed control, and he wanted to give it to her. The trick was in making her think she held the reins, when in truth she’d be following his lead.
CHAPTER SEVEN
SEBASTIAN CONTINUED TO rub the towel over his damp body even though he knew Brandi stood frozen in the bathroom doorway. He’d been at it for fifteen minutes or more, just waiting for her to show up. Under normal circumstances when alone with a woman he wanted—who he knew wanted him, too—he would have been oblivious to his nakedness, most likely because the woman would have been naked, as well.
Not so with Brandi standing there, her flannel gown dragging the floor, her eyes still puffy from sleep, her soft lips parted in shock. He could feel her curious gaze burning over his body and he wanted to pull her close, to feel the inquisitive touch of her hands, her eyes…her mouth.
He pretended indifference, but in fact he was wound so tight he hurt.
The weather matched his mood, waking him this morning with a powerful thunderstorm. Rain slashed the windows and the sky appeared as dark as early evening. He’d slipped away from Brandi after a loud crack of thunder and he had purposely left the bathroom door ajar as he’d showered. He’d hoped the sounds of the running water would eventually wake her, even though the storm hadn’t. Of course, she’d been snuggled up close to him then, warm and secure. He’d felt the chill of the room as soon as he’d left her, and though he’d tucked the blanket around her, he’d thought that the loss of his warmth might be enough to rouse her.
He wanted her familiar with him and his male rout
ine. He wanted her comfortable with his body. The more she thought of him as just a man, male to her female, the less she’d think of him as a dominant counterpart to her feminine vulnerability. The mundane chores of shaving and bathing and eating would help lower him to the status of just another flesh-and-blood person.
Finished drying, he slung the towel around his shoulders and turned to face her with a wry grin on his lips, but Brandi didn’t notice. Her gaze was nowhere near his face. He cleared his throat and she jerked. When her eyes rose quickly to meet his, he asked, “You okay, babe?”
“You’re naked.”
“Am I? Damn, that’s right.” He mustered up a puzzled look. “I took my clothes off to shower. That’s usually how it’s done, you know.”
Brandi slowly and carefully licked her lips, her gaze now glued desperately to his. “You’re…awfully big.”
Chuckling, he deliberately looked down at himself—and saw he was thankfully still inattentive to the fact of a very appealing female in the area. “Hmm. And I’m not nearly so impressive as I can be.” Then he looked at her. “Does it bother you?”
She shook her head, her dark curls moving around her pale face, and her eyes again went over his body. She said softly, “I wasn’t talking about that. I meant you were just so massive. All over.”
“I know. I was teasing you.”
“Oh.” She looked around, then shrugged. “The door was open.”
“I wanted to hear you if you woke up,” he said with a straight face.
Brandi nodded. “The storm woke me.”
Damn. He couldn’t very well stay unenthusiastic if she continued to watch him this way. He had to distract himself, so he moved to the sink and turned on the hot water, then opened his shaving kit.
“What are you doing?”
There was less shocked reserve in her tone, and more natural curiosity, which is what he’d been counting on. He flicked her a glance and saw that she’d stepped a little closer. He treated his nudity as natural, and she seemed to be attempting to do the same.
“I’m going to shave.” Then he added casually, “I don’t want to scratch you with my whiskers if you decide to do any of that touching or kissing we talked about.”
She remained silent, her eyes boring into him, over him. Squirting the shaving cream into his hand, he asked, “Have you ever watched a man shave?”
“No.”
“Not even your father?”
“My dad’s very private. Besides, he and Mom had their own bathroom.”
Flipping down the toilet seat, Sebastian said, “Come on in and sit. I don’t mind the company.”
“I…um…” He watched as she shifted her feet, her hands clasped together in front of her, then she blurted, “Okay, but could you wait just a moment? I’ll be right back.”
Before he could answer she darted out. Sebastian chuckled. Of course, she needed a trip to her own bathroom. He only hoped she didn’t stop to change clothes. He liked her in the loose-fitting flannel gown with the tiny blue flowers all over it. Its Victorian styling suited her.
He didn’t want her to comb her hair or splash her face, either. He liked seeing her all sleepy-eyed and warm and tousled. She looked sexy as hell and so sweet, his stomach muscles ached from being pulled so tight.
She returned a moment later, her hair still wild and disheveled, her gown in place and her blue eyes bright. She rushed forward and took the seat beside him, which put her eyes on a level with his navel. Damn. He’d never survive this.
“Go ahead.”
He laughed. “Intend to enjoy the show, do you?”
She’d regained enough of her impudence to stretch out her legs, cross her ankles and lean back against the commode. “You offered. It’s certainly not something I’ll get to see again anytime soon.”
“Ah, now, there you’re wrong. You can watch me shave any time you like. All you have to do is tell me.” So saying, he started by spreading the shaving cream around his face, then went through the contortions all men employ to reach those hard-to-shave places. Brandi sat in fascinated silence beside him. Amazingly, her gaze was as much on his face and the process of removing whiskers as it was on any other part of his body.
He was almost done. As he swiped the razor one last time across his jaw, Brandi said softly, “You look so hard.”
He nicked himself and cursed, but when he turned to her, he saw her staring at his hip where his skin was a shade lighter from being forever protected from the sun. She lifted her hand slightly from her lap, then lowered it again.
Sebastian grabbed up a facecloth and wiped his jaw before turning to face her fully. He couldn’t help himself, his body stirred with her interest, and being that he stood there completely naked, hiding his reaction wasn’t an option.
Her gaze flicked to his face, then back to his swelling erection. She looked absurdly amazed, and he tried to grin, tried to muster up one ounce of humor, but failed.
“You…you get excited just because I’m looking at you?”
Rather than answer her, he let his own gaze linger over her body as she lounged back in feigned negligence. He could detect the soft mounds of her breasts, the slight curve of her belly, the gentle slope of her thighs. He took his time, letting her feel where he looked. She shivered and her cheeks flushed—but not with embarrassment.
“You react when I look at you, too, babe. It’s just that your body isn’t as obvious as mine. But if a man is smart, if he knows where to look, it’s plain to see.” His tone was low and gravelly and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Without moving closer to her, he reached out his arm and very gently, with only the barest touch, circled a pointed nipple with his forefinger. Brandi gasped and her eyes closed, but she didn’t pull away. “This is a small clue.”
Her lips parted while she breathed deeply. “I liked that.”
She sounded amazed, not at all repulsed. “Good. Should I do it again?”
Her eyes opened and she stared at him. Biting her bottom lip, she gave a tiny, uncertain nod.
To most people this might have seemed to be the most bizarre situation—a woman covered from neck to toe in sturdy flannel, a man buck naked and on display, leaving himself vulnerable, doing no more than touching one sweet soft breast. To Sebastian, though, it meant he’d made incredible progress. He wanted to shout with his success—Brandi wanted him to touch her in a sexual way. Nothing else mattered to him at the moment.
His hand trembled a bit as he reached out again. He wanted to move closer, to touch her everywhere, to give her unbearable pleasure and hear her moaning his name, hear her crying out in an intense, mind-blowing climax. But he was also afraid of doing one little thing wrong and spooking her. He didn’t dare push her too far too fast.
He toyed with her nipple, still using only that one fingertip. He brushed against her, used the edge of his nail for a more tantalizing stroke, circled and flicked until Brandi panted and said in a tiny, almost indistinguishable voice, “Please.”
He was so hard, he hurt. His erection pulsed with every heartbeat, but Brandi was now oblivious to everything but her own body. Sebastian licked his lips and whispered, “Both breasts, all right, honey? You’ll like this, I promise. But if you don’t, just say so.”
Not giving her a chance to think about it, he lifted his other hand and this time he cupped her breasts, feeling them warm and firm in his palms. Her heartbeat thundered. Brandi made a strangled sound and her gaze remained glued to his face. He knew she was watching for any loss of control, so he did his damnedest to hide the level of his arousal. He couldn’t remember ever being so primed, so hot. But Brandi’s innocence, her trust, was both a powerful aphrodisiac and a potent reminder of who she was to him. More than he wanted anything, including his own pleasure, he wanted hers. He wanted her to trust him enough to let go, to give herself over to him for safekeeping while the pleasure swamped her and left her insensate.
Luckily, his arms were long, keeping him a safe distance from her. It
gave her the room she needed to feel secure. It also afforded him an incredible view of her body; the way her stomach muscles fluttered, the way her thighs tightened, how her throat worked and her hands clenched.
He breathed as deeply as she. “Do you like this, sweetheart?”
“Yes.”
That one word sounded like a moan, and Sebastian had to clench his jaw to hold in his own guttural sounds of approval. “Honey…I’d like to try something else, okay? No, don’t look at me like that. I’m not planning a wicked perversion on your person. You’re the boss, remember? I’m just going to make a suggestion.”
It took her a moment, but she finally said, “All right.”
His appreciation for flannel doubled as he felt her small breasts swell and fill his palms. He continued to pleasure her breasts as he spoke. “You like my fingers and hands on you here. But I think you’d like my mouth even more.”
Frantically, she shook her head, her eyes going wide.
“Shh,” he soothed, his fingers still taunting, teasing. “Just listen a minute. You could stand on the toilet lid. I’ll even put my hands behind my back if you want. And if I do this and you don’t like it, you can just say so. No arguments.”
He could tell she was tempted and he held his breath.
“I don’t want to take off my gown.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Those men…the ones who raped me.” Her voice trembled and Sebastian automatically stilled, his heartbeat frozen. “They told me I wasn’t much to look at, that I was all bones and no meat. They…they laughed at me. I know I’m too skinny. Shay is always teasing me about needing a few pounds. My mother says I just take after her, that I won’t round out until I have kids. But since I’d never thought to do that—have kids, I mean—I figure I’ll always be too small.”
Goddamn them. Violent emotion slammed through him, making him want to crush those responsible for stealing away her confidence, her self-esteem. And even her family had added to her insecurity. Couldn’t they see how they’d hurt her with their careless remarks? They should realize, with what she’d been through, how sensitive she would be.