Sheer Pleasure

by Patricia Rosemoor

  Though her body sang with her response, she shook her head. Nick had been right about her fears, after all. Good old Nick. The words were there, but she couldn’t do it. She never wanted to say them again.

  And if he’d been right about one thing…

  “Nate, tell me you had nothing to do with that tape.”

  “I had nothing to do with that tape.”

  He said it as if by rote, as if to placate her. Could she believe him? She wanted to…but what if this were the ultimate game and he was determined to win? What if Helen had been right about Nate all along?

  “How far would you go?” she asked.

  “For you?”

  “To get what you want from me.”

  “As far as I have to. Now it’s your turn to be honest. How do you feel about me, Annie?”

  She couldn’t say it. Couldn’t mouth the words more dangerous than anything that had happened to her. And why should she? He hadn’t spoken of loving her, just about wanting her, like a possession.

  What if this were a game to him? Was he any different from Alan Cooper? He would go as far as he had to, he’d said. Would he cheat? Would he send notes, take photographs, tape their lovemaking?

  To what end? To excite her? To make her turn to him? Trust him with her life?

  As if he knew exactly what it would take to get what he wanted, Nate dipped his head and covered her mouth with his, covered her body with his. He pressed up against her and tried to seduce the truth from her. And though her mind screamed at her to resist, her body was weak. Instantly on fire, she moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck. This was so easy for him. For him, she was so very easy.

  “You said, ‘The only other guy I ever fell for.’ Did you fall for me? Say it, Annie,” he murmured against her mouth. “Don’t be afraid.”

  What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she stop him? Stop herself? Why couldn’t she take a time-out until her stalker was caught and she could be absolutely sure?

  “I—I want…”

  “What?”

  She tried to say the things she should, the things that would keep her safe, but the words wouldn’t come. The only thing she could say was the truth.

  “You. I want you.”

  13

  “YOU HAVE ME, sweetheart,” Nate murmured against her mouth. “Any day, anytime.”

  He rocked his hips into her. He was as ready as she was. But as much as she wanted to, he supposed she wouldn’t…not here, not now…

  Or would she?

  Without letting go of her, without stopping the kiss, Nate turned Annie and moved her back against the settee, propelling her over the arm, while shoving the hapless mannequin to the floor. In the process, he knocked over several bottles of massage oil she’d set there as part of the display.

  Ineffectually pushing at his chest, she complained, “Someone will see.”

  “No one will care.”

  As he tugged at the string that tightened her trousers around her waist, she cried out, “Nate!”

  “That’s it. Say my name. I like that little catch in your voice. It turns me on.”

  She licked her lips, and he knew he had her then. All of her. No matter that she wouldn’t say the words he wanted to hear. She was showing him, he thought. She was letting him lead her wherever he would take her. His plan had worked. Annie Wilder was his.

  A fast glance at the street assured Nate that no one was around to see. But she knew as well as he did that there was always the potential for discovery. Wasn’t that part of the thrill for her?

  He already had the trousers and her panties half off when he felt her pulse quicken as it always did when he convinced her to take chances. Wondering if they were ever destined to make love in a more conventional manner, he let the thought slide away as he slipped a finger deep inside her.

  “You’re so wet for me,” he murmured, feeling his erection grow harder at the discovery.

  He released himself from his jeans and heard her quick intake of breath. Hot and wet and panting, she was ready for him. By the time he leaned over her, she was pulling at him too, obviously eager for him to ride her.

  He would give her everything she wanted and more, Nate vowed. He was crazy for her and would do anything to please her, to keep her tied to him, perhaps forever. He couldn’t imagine life without her anymore.

  The tear of packaging and the snap of latex as he put on a condom seemed to echo off the glass. With her gaze focused on his face, Annie raised her hips and pulled at him until he slid partially into her.

  Still on his feet, he balanced himself by bracing both hands against the settee. She snaked her legs up around his waist and rocked against him.

  “Not so fast—”

  “Yes, fast,” she insisted. “Hard, too. And deep.”

  Her talking—finally doing what he’d been urging her to do all week—nearly set Nate off. He shoved hard and went deep over and over, faster and faster. She arched her back and managed to pull his head down so she could kiss him and thrust her tongue in his mouth in the same rhythm. Then, when the tension had built in him to a crisis point, she sucked his upper lip and nipped at it.

  He cried out and this time came without her, but Annie took every inch of him until he was spent.

  When he sagged against her, she wiggled upward, using her feet against the settee edge for leverage. His head landed on her breast. A tantalizing bite through her clothing made her moan for more. She took a quick look out the window, and the next thing he knew, she’d removed her top and bra. He obliged her by tonguing one nipple, while rubbing the other between thumb and forefinger, pulling from her a series of sounds, both of pleasure and frustration.

  He suspected she anticipated they would have sex again, right now, but he wasn’t really Superman.

  Or was he? he wondered as she slid a hand down between them, and finding him nestled against her leg, removed the spent condom. He was already responding. Her touching him, cajoling him with her fingertips and nails, did wonders to restore his confidence.

  “A man of steel,” she murmured with a sigh as she coaxed his flesh back into full erection.

  JUST TO BE SURE they had no audience, Annie took a fast look-see through the shrouded display window as she reached down for a bottle of massage oil, then quickly opened it and dripped some on one palm.

  The street was dark and deserted, with not even a moving car in sight. Relieved, she rubbed her palms together until the fragrant scent of freesia drifted up to tantalize her nose. Then she slipped her oiled hands between them, down along Nate’s belly, over his penis, under his scrotum. Sliding back along his length, she alternately smoothed his skin and bit into him with the tips of her nails as further incentive. With all of this going on in a store window, the possibility of discovery was there—she knew that—but she couldn’t stop herself, not now, not when she had Nate right in the palm of her hand.

  “Condom?” she whispered.

  He reached down to the floor and seconds later produced the packet with a flourish. “Always prepared,” he murmured, ripping it open.

  “The Boy Scout motto?”

  Continuing to stroke his flesh with oiled hands, she watched him expertly roll on the condom, noting that the head was so engorged it was nearly purple. She closed her eyes a second and imagined come shooting from the cleft. A rush of wet warmth lubricated her even as she felt him lean forward so that very tip pressed against her labia.

  “I was never a Boy Scout,” he admitted as he parted her with a thrust.

  He then began to move with tantalizing slowness, and she couldn’t make him hurry again. Couldn’t make him go deep enough or fast enough, no matter how she urged him. Another few drops of oil gave her fingers a slippery playground to draw designs on his back and along his sides. He groaned but couldn’t be coaxed to move faster. Sweat beaded her body and she tried losing herself anyway, tried reaching for something that wouldn’t come.

  He was teasing her. Bringing her to the edge, then pull
ing back. She fairly vibrated inside. Pulsed. Needed. She was ready—more than ready—but still he wouldn’t give her that explosive release.

  “Tell me what you want me to do to you,” he murmured into her ear.

  Letting go of the last of her inhibitions, she pleaded, “Make love to me like you mean it!”

  “I mean it,” he told her, his voice barely controlled. “Convince me that you do.”

  She tried to make him lose himself, so she could do the same. But no matter how she stroked him, how she shifted positions to excite him, he seemed impervious.

  Thinking of something that might do the trick, she pushed him away slightly and, with another drip from the oil bottle, started touching herself—her breasts first, so that he would see her and be totally aware of her actions. The oil spreading over her skin made a slight sucking sound under her hands. Letting her eyes flutter closed, she squeezed her nipples and moaned.

  When he groaned in response, she knew that finally she had him.

  She slid a hand down between them and found her clit. Rubbing her forefinger against it, she moaned again and arched her back so that she pressed seductively against him.

  “Annie!” Nate groaned, shoving in deep and trapping her hand between them.

  Taking her mouth, he plunged his tongue inside. Then he worked her with matching rhythms, in and out, in and out, until she sparked inside and went off like a cherry bomb—intensely enough and loudly enough for the sound to echo around the display area.

  The sensation seemed to stretch on forever, and when she was finally spent, Annie realized that Nate had collapsed with her. She held on tightly. She wasn’t going to let the feeling go, not now, not when she felt this perfect happiness. Nothing mattered but being with Nate, being one with him, so that she no longer knew where he left off and she began.

  They were so good together. It was as if he knew her every need and did his best to fulfill her every fantasy, at least at times like this. Times when logic didn’t matter. Times when the idea of danger was more exciting than frightening.

  Her reality had been too conservative for far too long. This fantasy-come-true was what she wanted. He was what she wanted.

  Whoever he was.

  For she still didn’t know him. Didn’t know if he was really Nate or Nathaniel, or both, as he declared. She only knew that when she was with him like this, she felt fulfilled as never before. Happy. Sated with sex and safe in his arms.

  He managed to wedge a hip next to her and pull her close, wrapped in his arms. One leg straddled hers protectively. He felt so good…. This felt so good she never wanted to move.

  At least not until the buzz wore off and doubts began to creep back in. Doubts she tried to ignore.

  “Maybe we ought to get dressed,” she said.

  “A little longer,” he argued, obviously not ready to let her go.

  “What if someone gets close to the window and sees?”

  Yet another glance at the street assured Annie that it was still empty of pedestrians, with only a stray taxi moving through the intersection.

  Nate’s responding laughter brushed against her insides. He’d never sounded happier. “A little late to worry about that, isn’t it?” he asked, lazily trailing a finger through a puddle of oil on her breast as though he wanted to make love again.

  Her nipple tightened, as did her insides, and Annie feared that if he pressed her, she would be putty in his hands.

  Yet he made no other move, just cupped her breast gently and seemed content to lie there, precariously balanced behind her on the settee. That he just wanted to be with her warmed her inside. And so she leaned back against him, let herself go. For a moment let herself think of deeper emotions than those comfortable to admit.

  Love… Did she?

  She barely thought it, and didn’t have time to explore the question before her eyes grew heavy and she dozed a bit, warm and safe in the shelter of his body.

  Suddenly, it seemed, he lifted his weight off her, and she would have fallen to the display floor if he hadn’t steadied her. “C’mon, Sleeping Beauty, time to get up, or my back will never be the same.”

  With his help, she rose from the settee and, scooping up her clothes, left the display area. Then, in the dimness of the store, she dressed with his uninvited help. His touch rekindled banked fires. But he didn’t go further.

  Why? Because there was no challenge? How much more dangerous could he make things? she wondered. What was left?

  “When was the last time you, uh, made it in a bed?” she asked, then swiftly changed her mind. “No, don’t answer that. I really don’t want to know when. But you have used a bed before, right?”

  “On occasion. Want to try mine?” A slow grin captured his mouth and he captured her, snaking his arms around her waist and pulling her tight against him. “We can be at my place in five minutes.”

  She groaned. “You don’t want me to be able to walk tomorrow.”

  “If I could get away with it, I would keep you chained to my bed forever.”

  She pushed back so that she could see his face through the shadows. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “What do you think?”

  She tried to read him, but couldn’t. “Sometimes it’s hard to know with you.”

  “That’s because you don’t trust me.”

  “Of course I do. What do you call what we just did?”

  “You trust Nate, maybe, but not me.”

  “You are Nate.” Suddenly perturbed, she wiggled out of his arms and tried to straighten her hair.

  “And I’m Nathaniel. And you still have a problem with that.”

  Annie couldn’t deny it, but she didn’t want to get into it, didn’t want to spoil the moment, so she said nothing. But he, it seemed, had no such problem.

  “You’re mine, Annie, not just Nate’s.” He smoothed stray hair from her cheek. “It’s time you come to terms with that fact.”

  Annie ducked away from him. “Maybe I don’t want to be yours,” she argued. “Not Nate’s, either. Maybe I want to belong to myself.”

  “Sounds like a lonely road to me. And a safe one.”

  “Nothing wrong with safe.” Better than throwing her heart out, only to have it shredded.

  “Of course there is. It’s not you. You’re the one who likes dangerous games, remember.” He trailed his hand down her throat. “You’re the one who likes to take chances. So why not take a chance with me? I mean, all of me.”

  “I have been taking chances.”

  “Not the kind that count.”

  “Don’t push, Nate.”

  “Don’t confuse me with Alan Cooper.”

  Any residual warmth she’d been feeling from their lovemaking dissolved at the reminder of the man who’d made such a fool of her.

  “I need to get home!” Annie snapped.

  “I think we need to talk this out.”

  “I am talked out. If you really knew me the way you say you do, you would have figured that out.”

  His expression drained to neutral and he took a step back and stared as if he were really seeing her for the first time.

  “You’re not ever going to give me a break, are you?” he asked.

  She couldn’t meet his gaze, so she stared at his lips—too dangerous. At the cleft in his chin. “I’ve given you more than you know.”

  Silence stretched between them for an interminable moment before he said, “Lock up and I’ll take you home.”

  “I know the way.” And before he could object, tell her it wasn’t safe, she added, “I can give a taxi driver directions, thanks.”

  He went still and his expression closed, and for a moment, Annie saw the stranger again. The one who was neither Nate nor Nathaniel. The one who made her mouth go dry and her breath catch in her throat.

  “If you do this, Annie, you’ll regret it.”

  “What? Not let you take me home?”

  He didn’t answer, merely shook his head and backed off. Annie hugged hersel
f and watched him leave by the back door, the way he’d come in, without so much as another glance her way.

  What had he meant by regret? Somehow, she didn’t think it was the going home issue. She supposed it was a matter of trust, of her not accepting all sides of him.

  Would she regret it?

  She would if he tired of her, tired of the game he thought she was playing with him, when in fact she wasn’t playing at all. Not about this. She was protecting herself. And that was something that needed no apology, she decided.

  Her anger on simmer, she called the cab company and was told a taxi would be at her door in a matter of minutes.

  Straightening the display window and gathering her things, she locked up the shop. Only after waiting outside for several minutes did she begin to wonder if she’d made a mistake, and if someone were watching her again.

  Nate? Or someone more dangerous?

  Though she saw no one, her unease grew and multiplied. It was the circumstances, she told herself. Until her stalker was identified and put out of commission, she would be looking over her shoulder wherever she was. She was about to go back inside when a taxi finally flew through the intersection and slid to a stop at the curb.

  Climbing inside, she glanced out the back window at the naked street as they pulled away and sped toward her place.

  Only her imagination…

  If only that self-assurance would quiet her nerves!

  Unlike the cabbie the other night, who had been concerned enough to watch her get into her place safely, this one sped away the moment she got out of the vehicle and slammed the door.

  And she was left in the dark, with the too-familiar feeling of personal invasion.

  After fumbling with the keys long enough to stretch her nerves taut, she got the front door open and shot inside. Before she could finish bolting it behind her, Rock was twirling around her ankles.

  “Hey, sweet boy,” she murmured, lifting him into her arms, once more remembering the comment about his being the male in her life. Maybe he was, she decided as she marched the cat over to his food bowl.

  Why did Nate have to be so difficult? Why couldn’t he understand where she was coming from? What was wrong with having a good time together, fulfilling her fantasies and leaving reality to others?