Drive Me Wild

by Julie Ortolon

  Her gentle touch prickled his skin as thunder rumbled outside. Closing his eyes, he placed his hand over hers, willing himself to calm down. Still, every muscle in his body trembled. If he had any sense, he’d go upstairs and lift weights until the old fears subsided back into the darkness where they belonged. But Laura was touching him, gently stroking his cheek.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she whispered softly.

  He gritted his teeth as her fingertips brushed through his hair, sending shock waves through his system. He needed to tell her to stop, before he jerked her hard against him and lost himself in an exertion more primal than pumping iron. She deserved better treatment than that. Any woman deserved better. If only she’d stop touching him.

  “Forgive me?” She said the words teasingly, completely unaware of the battle that raged inside him. Another volley of lightning lit the room as she kissed his temple, his cheek. Her clean honeysuckle scent drifted down inside him and wrapped his gut in a fist of need. Her lips traced his clenched jaw as she cradled his face in her soft hands.

  The instant her lips touched his, his control snapped. With a groan he caught her head in his hand and slanted his mouth over hers. His tongue plunged into her honeyed warmth, ravaging her sweetness. She stiffened in surprise when he pulled her down on the bed. Pinning her there, he raised his head. “Don’t do that again, okay? Don’t get up and leave without waking me.”

  “Okay.” Laura blinked up at him as her heart leaped into her throat. She’d never seen anything more savagely exciting than Brent at that moment, looming over her in the darkness. His chest heaved with his breaths as lightning danced behind him.

  His gaze dropped, and she realized the robe had fallen open, leaving her exposed. Her breasts rose and fell with her own labored breathing. Cupping one mound, he lowered his head to take the tip in his mouth. Pleasure knifed through her, as thunder rolled over the house.

  She gasped as he sucked the nipple into his mouth. She wasn’t sure what had upset Brent, but she sensed he needed her with a desperation that startled and thrilled her. She moved against him, offering him the comfort of her body. Somehow he managed between devouring kisses to shed his trousers, while she became hopelessly tangled in his robe.

  She reached out to touch him, but the sleeves pinned her arms to her side. His mouth and hands moved over her body, kissing and kneading her flesh, driving her into a world of frantic pleasure. She couldn’t think, could barely breathe as he settled between her thighs.

  Lightning exploded through the room as he drove inside her. Unable to touch him with her hands, she arched upward, opening herself up to his hunger, his need. Her head tossed as desire built inside her, so sharp and keen, she wept his name. She knew he felt it, too, the unbearable edge of ecstasy riding him as hard and fast as he rode her. When it burst around them, he stiffened over her, his back arched, his head thrown back. In a daze, she watched him, and a wave of tenderness overwhelmed the pleasures of the flesh. Knowing she’d filled some elemental need in him, given him some kind of solace, made her feel more womanly than the climax that had just crashed through her.

  As the air left his lungs, he sagged on top of her. She welcomed his weight as she kissed his damp forehead. Warm currents of satisfaction flowed over her, and she let herself drift, listening to the storm.

  When he finally shifted his weight to lie beside her, he drew her against him, holding her close. “Thank you,” he whispered, kissing her forehead.

  She moved her head against his shoulder to see his face. “For what?”

  He smiled, and even in the darkness, she could see the tension was gone. “For staying.”

  Snuggling against him, she tucked his smile into her heart and drifted to sleep.

  —

  When Brent turned into the parking lot of Laura’s third interview, he stifled a groan. The dilapidated office building sat in the middle of a barrio. This on top of her other two disastrous interviews made his heart sink in sympathy.

  He glanced sideways to gauge Laura’s reaction. She stared up at the building with the same nervous yet determined expression she’d been wearing all morning. “You know,” he said cautiously, “if you don’t want to go in for this one, you don’t have to.”

  She turned to him with wounded eyes. “Surely I’m not that hopeless.”

  “No, I didn’t mean that.” He reached over to squeeze her hand. “I only meant, you don’t have to keep every appointment you made if you can tell from the outside that the job isn’t right for you.”

  “Brent…” She gave him an amused smirk. “How can I tell that if I don’t go inside?”

  “Just look at this place.” He stared at it in horror. “It’s a dump.”

  “It’s not that bad.” Her nervous look returned. “Besides, the doctor that bought Dad’s practice went to school with Dr. Velasquez and had all kinds of wonderful things to say about him. According to him, Dr. Velasquez could have opened a pediatric practice anywhere but chose to come back to his old neighborhood because this was where he felt most needed.”

  “How noble.”

  She scowled at him, “I thought you liked noble causes.”

  “I do. I just don’t like the idea of you working in this neighborhood.”

  “Well, with the way things have gone so far, I doubt you have much to worry about.”

  “Laura,” he gave her hand another squeeze, “you know finding a job takes time.”

  “I know.” Her gaze dropped to their joined hands, shielding her eyes with her lashes. “But the first doctor took one look at my résumé and politely brushed me off.”

  “The man was obviously a moron.”

  “And the second doctor didn’t even bother keeping the appointment. He just had one of his nurses take my application and tell me they’d get back to me if they were interested.”

  “Another moron.”

  “They can’t all be morons,” she said quietly.

  “Would you stop taking this so personally.”

  “You’re right. You’re right.” With a deep breath, she lifted her eyes to the two-story structure with its ugly metal stairs and battered doors opening to an outside landing. “And I’ll never find a job sitting out here.”

  “Just one thing, though,” he said as she gathered her purse and reached for the door handle. “You don’t have to take the first job you’re offered. Okay?”

  She smiled. “Let’s just hope I’m offered one.”

  “You will be.” He grinned.

  “Thanks.” She kissed his cheek. “Now wish me luck.” With that she climbed out of the car and headed across the parking lot.

  He kept his smile in place until she climbed the stairs and disappeared through a door on the second level; then he let loose the groan he’d been holding back. If she got this job, he’d shoot himself. The woman had no business even interviewing in a neighborhood like this. He never should have encouraged her to move to Houston.

  Now that she was here, though, the least he could do was see her properly settled. That way, when they broke up, he wouldn’t have to worry about her quite so much. And even after last night, he knew they would break up. It was inevitable. His relationships with women never lasted.

  As he waited for her to finish her interview, he wondered how long they’d have together—and how well he’d handle it when she dumped him. The few other breakups he’d weathered hadn’t been too bad. There’d been some yelling, some angry accusations about his refusal to commit himself to a relationship, followed by the slamming of a door or two. After which he’d heaved a huge sigh of relief and turned his mind back to work.

  Perhaps Laura would have more patience with his inability to get close to a woman. Maybe she’d understand, because she’d know the reason behind it: He feared abandonment because his mother had abandoned him as a child. A first-year psychology student could figure that out without even cracking a book.

  Women needed emotional commitment. They deserved it. But he couldn’t gi
ve it. When they figured this out, they left.

  He probably ought to spell it all out for Laura. Only, if he did that, she might leave immediately rather than a few months down the road. Selfish as it might be, he wanted those few months. He planned to savor every moment of them. Was that so wrong?

  He glanced again at the office building, wondering how long this interview would last. The first two had been over before he even settled into waiting. Several minutes ticked by while he watched the traffic and checked his watch five times. Maybe he should go in and make sure she was all right.

  Just as he reached for the handle, she reappeared on the second-floor balcony. The moment she turned, her face lit with such a brilliant smile, he swore he felt it clear across the parking lot. His body, which should have been thoroughly sated after last night, leapt to attention.

  He shook his head at his physical reaction to the mere sight of her as she skipped down the metal stairs and headed toward him.

  —

  Laura resisted the urge to holler yes as she hurried across the cracked pavement toward the patch of shade where Brent had parked. The interview had gone well. Really well. She could feel it in her bones. The minute she and Dr. Velasquez shook hands, something had clicked between them. The pediatrician was slight of stature with gentle hands and a quiet voice, and yet she’d sensed a strength to his character that demanded respect. A mother couldn’t ask for a better doctor for her children.

  Hopping into the car, she leaned over and gave Brent’s cheek a kiss. “Guess what?”

  His face went stiff. “You got the job.”

  “Maybe.” She could feel the smile beaming from her face. “The interview went well. Really, really well.”

  “And?” His smile looked a bit frozen, but after the morning she’d had, he probably didn’t want to get his hopes up.

  “I won’t know for a couple of days. Dr. Velasquez said he had a few other people to interview. But I think I got it. I hope so, anyway.”

  “Laura…” He stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “You truly don’t have to take the first job you’re offered.”

  “I know. But I want this job. I like Dr. Velasquez a lot, and so will you when you meet him.”

  “If you say so,” he muttered as he started the car.

  She studied him in silence while he drove across the parking lot. “Are you feeling all right?”

  “Sure. I’m fine.” When he glanced her way, his eyes didn’t quite meet hers.

  “You sure?” she persisted.

  “Of course,” he said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I don’t know. I just thought you’d be happier for me, that’s all.”

  “I am happy for you,” he insisted a bit too strongly. Then, as if catching himself, he sighed. “I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

  “Oh?” She cocked her head to see his eyes. “Anything you want to talk about?”

  Ignoring her question, he pulled into traffic. “What street did you say I need to take?”

  Sighing, she gave him directions to Melody’s house, but she couldn’t brush off the feeling that some barrier had risen between them.

  Chapter 15

  On the opposite side of Buffalo Bayou from where Brent lived, Melody’s neighborhood had a completely different flavor. Rather than stately brick houses with walled-in backyards, here colorful Victorian “painted ladies” mingled with single-story clapboard houses. Most of the homes had been lovingly restored as private residences or converted into lawyers’ offices, but a few looked ready to be condemned. An esplanade ran down the center of the main street with trails for joggers and cyclists. Occasional statues, gazebos, and gothic street-lamps with sea serpents holding the lamp globes provided a romantic touch.

  “Nothing like a neighborhood in transition,” Brent muttered, seeming to notice the rundown elements more than the whimsical ones.

  “I think it’s charming,” Laura countered, her spirits still soaring from her interview. Spotting the street sign she’d been watching for, she pointed toward it. “This is your turn.” As he steered the Porsche onto the side street, she checked her notes and gestured to a clapboard house in the middle of the block. “It’s this one, here.”

  Over the privacy fence that enclosed the entire yard, front and back, she saw a sapphire-blue house with white and ruby trim. She smiled in delight at the colorful jewel nestled beneath a tangle of oak, pecan, and pine trees. “It looks just like a place where an artist would live.”

  “I guess,” Brent said. As soon as they climbed out of the car, he engaged the alarm.

  Ignoring his odd mood, she took in a greedy breath. Beneath the smell of the traffic and smog, she caught the heady fragrance of flowers from a profusion of beds in a neighbor’s yard. Mockingbirds and bluejays hopped through the branches overhead, adding their noisy ruckus to the distant sounds of humanity. In contrast to the sedate pace of Beason’s Ferry, here her senses were constantly filled to overflowing.

  As they approached the house, she noticed two square holes about chest high in the gate. Before she could venture a question as to their purpose, she heard a series of deep-throated woofs followed by the frantic scratching of paws against wood. Two massive black and tan heads popped through the openings, startling a laugh out of her. With tongues lagging, the dogs grinned at their visitors.

  “Oh, aren’t they cute?” Laura reached out a hand to pet one of the massive heads. “They look just like grinning gargoyles.”

  Brent stepped back, as if unsure what to make of the dogs.

  “Karma! Chakra!” Melody shouted from the other side of the fence. “Get down!” A noisy battle ensued, followed by silence. “Okay, I got ‘em. Come on in.”

  Opening the gate, Laura peeked around. Melody stood in a vivid purple caftan with the collar to a wiggling Rottweiler in each hand. “Is it safe?”

  “Only if you don’t mind getting licked to death.”

  Laughing, she shook her head. “To think Roger gave me these big babies as guard dogs.”

  “Roger?” Laura asked as Brent came in behind her and closed the gate.

  “My ex-husband.” Melody let the dogs go. One ran instantly to Laura, the other to Brent, each sniffing and wiggling. “He didn’t like the idea of my living alone.”

  “I didn’t know you’d been married,” Laura said as she scratched and cooed over one of the dogs.

  “That was in a past life.” Melody shrugged. Out of the corner of her eye, Laura saw Brent tentatively offer the back of his hand for the other dog to smell. That was all the incentive the beast needed to slide to the ground and lie on his back at Brent’s feet. Brent glanced at her with startled pleasure lighting his eyes.

  “Some guard dogs, eh?” Melody laughed.

  “Oh, Melody, this is Brent.” Laura straightened to make the introductions. “Brent, Melody Piper, artist extraordinaire.”

  “Well, I don’t know about that.” Melody offered Brent a firm, friendly handshake. “It’s good to meet you.”

  “Same here.” Brent’s smile was cool but cordial.

  “So come on in,” Melody said. With Karma and Chakra charging before her, she led the way up the steps to the front porch. “Let me show you around. Then you can tell me how your interviews went this morning.”

  “You bet,” Laura answered, then glanced back at Brent. “You coming?”

  He gave the house a wary frown but followed her inside.

  A hodgepodge of Middle Eastern accents, Tiffany lamps, and old furniture covered with batik slipcovers filled the entry hall and living room.

  “The bedrooms are on opposite sides of the house—mine in the front, yours in the back—with a connecting bathroom in between, though I doubt sharing it will be a problem. I’m a late-to-bed, never-to-rise-before-noon type. So you’ll have the bathroom to yourself in the mornings.” Her caftan floated about her as Melody led the way through the dining room. “My studio’s in the garage out back, right outside your window, but hopefull
y I won’t keep you up nights.” They passed through a large kitchen with wooden cabinets that went all the way up to the high-coffered ceiling. “You’re on your own if you drink coffee, since I only stock herb tea.” The back bedroom opened directly off the kitchen. “This will be your room. Like I warned you, I don’t have any spare furniture. I did get down my old sleeping bag and an air mattress, though, for tonight.”

  Laura glanced around at the mattress on the floor and the big windows that looked out on the backyard. Sheets had been tacked up and swagged back to serve as draperies. “This is perfect. I’ve never had a room to decorate on my own.”

  “You’re kidding!” Melody laughed. “Well, we’ll have to hit the garage sales. I know where to find all the really good ones. Karma, Chakra, no!” she shouted as the dogs padded over to flop on the mattress. Shaking her head, Melody grabbed their collars. “Why don’t I lock these two in my room while you bring in your stuff. Otherwise they’ll slip out that gate in two seconds flat. The last thing I need is another citation from the dog catcher—or Mrs. Carsdale next door, screaming about her flower beds.”

  The room fell silent when Melody dragged the dogs through the connecting bathroom to the bedroom beyond. Laura turned to Brent. “Well? What do you think?”

  He glanced over his shoulder to be sure Melody was out of earshot. “I don’t know…”

  “What?” She frowned.

  “It just seems a bit … rough.” He glanced around.

  “And unfurnished.”

  “I know. But it’s only for the summer. Then, depending how things work out and how much money I’ve saved, I may look for a place of my own. In the meantime,” she said, desperately wanting him to share her enthusiasm, “I guess I should get my things.”

  Brent’s brooding scowl grew darker as they went outside to unload the car. The minute she reached for the overnight case, though, he stopped her. “Wait a second.”

  She dropped her hand and turned to face him.

  He took a deep breath, as if struggling for words. Several seconds slipped by. He plowed his fingers through his hair, took another breath, then looked her straight in the eye. “Move in with me.”