Forbidden

by Janelle Denison

  He broke their kiss and grabbed at her groping hands. “Not yet, sweetheart,” he murmured, and pressed her down, until she was lying before him. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of her leggings, he swept them and her panties down her long legs, tossing the clothing aside.

  And then he sat back and looked his fill, awed by her loveliness, and the trusting way she parted her thighs for him to slide in between. Firelight warmed her skin to a shimmery peach hue and spun gold in her hair and the thatch of curls covering her femininity. She was all supple curves, endlessly long limbs, and sexy as hell.

  He’d wanted her for so long, and now she was his.

  His gaze gradually climbed back up to her face, stopping to admire each attribute on the way. “You’re absolutely beautiful,” he told her, and guessed by the flush staining her cheeks that Anthony hadn’t told her that often enough.

  And because he didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, and the days following, he set about showing her just how alluring he found her, how desirable, how delicious. He lavished every inch of her in kisses, starting at her instep, moving to the arousing spot behind her knee, and dragging his mouth along thighs that quaked in anticipation. His tongue dipped into her navel, laved her breasts, then he suckled her nipple deep into his mouth. With a strangled cry, she plowed her fingers through his hair and held him to her, her body moving insistently beneath his.

  He didn’t give in to her silent demands. He wasn’t done with his exploration. Her sensitive neck was a delight he thoroughly enjoyed, her mouth a treasure trove of erotic pleasures he indulged in. He hadn’t known French kisses could taste so damn good. With her, they held the flavor of heaven, the essence of forever.

  The sweet, delicate taste reminded him of the only other place he hadn’t sampled; he’d deliberately saved the best for last. He sat up between her knees and shimmied the rest of the way out of his sweatpants. But instead of sliding over and into her, he took a more brazen approach he wasn’t sure she’d approve of. She didn’t stop him when he used his palms and caressed from her bent knee to her thighs and slowly guided her legs further apart. Didn’t object when he lowered his mouth and nuzzled her, and drew deeply of her scent. Didn’t protest when he slicked his thumb over petal-soft folds damp with her arousal. Didn’t demur when his tongue joined in the foray and stroked her intimately.

  She closed her eyes on a sigh and entwined her fingers in his hair, shamelessly letting him have his way with her. There were no barriers between them, no restrictions. The moan of complete surrender that purred in her throat, her openness and the unconditional faith she gave him humbled him like nothing in his life ever had. Those elements also drove him on, made him ruthless in taking what he wanted.

  It didn’t take her long to find a shattering release, one that made her cry out and tremble and push frantically against his shoulders at the intensity of such an allconsuming orgasm. He rode out the climax with her, taking her all the way.

  Only when she’d touched back down to earth did he ease his body over hers, bracing his forearms on either side of her head.

  He caught a glimpse of fever-bright eyes before her lashes drifted downward, concealing her emotions. His jaw hardened in resolve.

  Gently grasping her face between his palms, he held her so she couldn’t turn away, so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Look at me, Paige,” he said, his tone slightly gruff. It wasn’t a matter of her knowing who was about to make love to her-instinctively he knew he’d given her more in the last half hour than Anthony had in three years of marriage-but no way was he going to let her retreat into herself after what they’d just shared…and certainly not before what they were going to share.

  Her eyes opened, and a myriad of emotions danced in the reflection of dying firelight. Most prominent was the deep, painful heartache he’d contributed to this evening, and an ocean of longing he believed he was a direct part of. There wasn’t much he could do about the first emotion, but he could cater to the second.

  Her hands slipped down the slope of his back, over his buttocks, rocking him closer, until the tip of his shaft penetrated ever-so-slightly.

  She shuddered and arched. “Josh, come inside me,” she said in a wispy voice.

  The image her words incited were powerful enough to make him do just that. Literally. Before he had the luxury of sheathing himself within her. But he didn’t want their time together to end so quickly, didn’t want the night, this moment, to slip away anytime soon. So, he bent his head and kissed her. Slow and wet and rapacious, making her wild again, making him burn, building them both toward the completion of everything that had come before.

  She was ready for him, and he couldn’t wait a second longer.

  She was so tight, so snug, that the first deep plunging thrust took them both by surprise. She gasped sharply as her body stretched to accommodate his size, his length. He groaned as her passage softened around him, accepted him, enveloped him until he couldn’t tell where he ended and she began. She was as primed as a woman could be, yet there was a certain resistance thai came from a long period of abstinence.

  Then all thought fled as she began undulating he hips, making him slide deeper still, submersing him in silky heat. With a rough groan, he caught her heels and pulled her legs tight around his hips. The position offered him greater access, and he took advantage of it, giving her the wild ride she wanted.

  She nipped at his jaw aggressively, then gently sank her teeth into his neck, only to soothe the bite with her tongue. He felt that slow, wet lap all the way to his groin. He grew harder, impossibly thicker. Tossing his head back, he pumped rhythmically, over and over driving toward completion.

  He felt the first tiny quiver of her release convulse around him, heard a sob break from her throat along with his name. He opened his eyes and looked down just in time to see the ecstacy and pleasure on her face as she came for him. That was all it took. His own climax slammed into him, powerful and unrelenting, until finally he buried his face in her neck and let out a long, spent groan.

  He lay there on top of her, still inside her, awed by the indescribable feelings their lovemaking evoked Never, with any of the women he’d ever slept with, had he ever experienced such fire and passion-or such a primal need to possess.

  But then he’d never loved a woman the way he loved Paige, and that made all the difference between sex and making love.

  Wanting the precious, simple moment to last a little while longer before reality intruded, he pressed warm kisses on her neck. A shiver raced through her body, making her breasts swell beneath the crush of his chest.

  He found himself smiling, and took great satisfaction in her automatic response. She stroked his hair, his relaxed shoulders, the firm slope of his back, keeping him close. Her legs remained entwined with his, giving him no indication she wanted him to leave her. His body quickened.

  And then he felt something warm and wet seep against the hand still buried into her hair at the side of her face. Frowning, he lifted his head and stared into luminous green eyes filled with silent tears. She blinked and another single drop escaped.

  His heart wrenched in his chest. He brushed the moisture away with his thumb, wondering at the source of those tears. “Paige?” he questioned.

  A watery smile curved her mouth. “Don’t ask me to explain what even I don’t understand,” she said, brushing her fingers along his jaw, right where she’d walloped him earlier. Her touch was soothing, but the look in her eyes was troubled. “Let’s chalk it up to a very emotional night.”

  Her tears were a natural release after everything she’d been through that evening, he told himself, but he couldn’t help but wonder, and worry, about the change to their relationship after what they’d just shared. They’d crossed boundaries and become lovers in a time of need. What would happen now? Would this be a one-night stand, or the beginning of something special for them?

  Tomorrow would tell.

  That simple thought led to another more compli
cated issue-the fact that he’d yet to tell Paige that Anthony’s perfidy had put her life at risk.

  Knowing her fragile emotional state couldn’t withstand more shocking news, he decided the morning would be soon enough to discuss things. Moving off her, he stood. She sat up, too, reaching for her sweater.

  He found her bout of modesty endearing, but unnecessary. “You don’t need that, sweetheart. I’ve seen everything there is to see.” Catching her hand before it closed around the article of clothing, he gave her an easy tug until she was standing before him in all her naked glory.

  Letting out a breath that did nothing to ease the surge of heat heading straight to his groin, he glanced away and started toward the hall, pulling her along. “Come on, let’s put you to bed.”

  She’d transformed the master bedroom from what had been a masculine domain into a feminine haven, her touch evident throughout. The furniture was frilly and Victorian, as was the four-poster bed. Lacy curtains framed the window, and the bedspread was made of mauve silk with matching ruffled pillows, which he tossed onto the brocade chair in the corner of the room. He pulled back the covers, waited until she slipped between the sheets, then adjusted the blanket around her shoulders.

  “Get some rest, Paige,” he said, and couldn’t resist sliding his fingers through her silky hair one last time. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

  He started back out of the room, but her husky voice halted him before he could retreat.

  “Josh?”

  He stopped and glanced back at her, though all he could see in the darkness was a huddled form beneath the covers. “Yeah?”

  She hesitated, then, “Will you stay with me tonight and just hold me?”

  It was the last thing he expected, and the last thing he’d refuse. “Let me take care of the fire, and I’ll be back, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Less than five minutes later he returned, sliding into bed next to her. He snuggled up behind her, his muscular body pressing against soft womanly curves. Wrapping his arms securely around her waist, he cocooned their bodies in a warm, trusting intimacy. Long after Paige had fallen asleep, he savored the feel of her in his arms.

  And realized he never wanted to let her go.

  3

  PAIGE OPENED HER EYES, blinked, then groaned and squinted at the slivers of sunshine filtering through the shutters covering her window. Stretching the kinks from her body, she rolled over to face the other side of the bed, expecting to find Josh sleeping beside her.

  She was alone.

  Raising herself on her forearm, she pushed her tangled hair from her face and glanced around the room, listening carefully for any signs of life beyond her closed bedroom door. The house was still and quiet, and everything outside was calm, making her wonder if the storm and Josh’s visit last night had all been a dream. A dream that had begun with devastating news surrounding Anthony’s death, and had ended with an incredibly erotic night of making love to Josh.

  Still hovering between the lassitude of sleep and full wakefulness, she slid out of bed and headed to the bathroom, certain the whole episode had been some kind of bizarre illusion.

  But it had seemed so real…

  Switching on the light, she caught sight of her reflection in the large mirror over the dual-sink vanity. She was naked. That revelation was enough to cause a stirring of alarm, considering she never slept in the nude.

  Bits and pieces flooded her mind, solidifying facts and wiping away any last remnants of slumber. Last night hadn’t been a figment of her imagination. The proof mocked her-in the form of red patches on her skin caused by the light stubble that had been on Josh’s jaw. She was marked everywhere! Branded by whisker bums!

  She touched the abrasion on her neck; it was warm to the touch and a little sensitive. Her fingers fluttered lower, to the chafed skin on her breasts. Vivid memories leapt to life, of Josh rubbing his cheek gently against the plump flesh before flicking his tongue over her nipple. And then there were the pink scratches on her flat belly, and more evidence of whisker burn between her thighs. She lightly touched those scrapes, remembering how the raspy sensation had aroused her as much as his mouth and hands had, and recalling her shameless response to the wicked things he’d done to her.

  A shudder rippled through her, and a low groan caught in her throat. She closed her eyes as much to shut out the arousing memories assaulting her senses, as to block out how rumpled and wanton she looked.

  But she couldn’t forget.

  Another vision intruded, the image wispy and fleeting, like a dream. Only it hadn’t been a dream, but reality in its purest sense. She’d slowly woken in the middle of the night, feeling lethargic but very aware of a large hand fondling her breasts and the press of an erection nestled against her bottom.

  She recalled thinking she wanted him. Again. With the same desperation as the first time. But he’d gently eased her onto her belly, followed her with the length of his body, and whispered in her ear that this time they were going to take it slow and easy.

  He’d made love to her lazily, their bodies so in sync, it was hard to believe they’d been lovers for just one night His lips pressed damp kisses on her neck, his tongue traced the shell of her ear. When he’d murmured so sexily, “Come for me,” she’d unraveled and had done just that. He was with her all the way, taking them up that crest at a leisurely pace that drew out the pleasurable sensations shimmering between them.

  Paige opened her eyes and stared at her horrified expression. She pressed her palms to her flushed cheeks. Oh, Lord, what had they done? What had she done? In a moment of weakness she’d sought comfort in Josh’s arms, had bared herself emotionally and physically. His healing touch had been like a balm to her battered and bruised heart. He’d made love to her as if she were the only woman left on earth, had settled for no less than her full surrender.

  In return, she’d given him her body, her heart, and the part of her soul that had been lost for so long. She’d always cared for Josh, possibly even loved him on some level beyond friendship. Last night had been a culmination of those feelings. She’d needed him as much as he’d needed her-needed to feel something other than the pain of Anthony’s deception. Making love with Josh had wiped out the horrible truth about her husband for a few hours. With Josh, she’d felt more alive and desirable than she had in the past three years.

  But it couldn’t, and wouldn’t, happen again. No matter what had transpired between them last night, no matter that Josh had claimed a part of her Anthony never had, involving herself with Josh beyond a platonic friendship was pure madness. Sheer stupidity. It had taken her three months to make difficult decisions about her future and decide what she wanted to do now that she had nothing substantial left to keep her ied to Miami. Especially when her entire family lived n Connecticut. The last thing she needed was her bloscoming feelings for Josh to get in the way of her plans-plans she intended to expedite as a result of last night’s encounter.

  Ignoring the ache in her chest, she made a mental note to call her realtor and broker first thing Monday morning and begin the sale proceedings on the house and the Wild Rose. Then she rummaged a clip from the vanity drawer, secured her hair on top of her head, and stepped into the spacious tiled shower.

  Fifteen minutes later she exited the bathroom, feeling nore refreshed and awake, and determined not to alow the most emotionally fulfilling night of her life to interfere with her friendship with Josh.

  She combed her hair and left it down, brushed her teeth, and put on a light application of makeup. Keeping in mind the various abrasions on her body, she opted for a hunter-green turtleneck and cream-colored slacks. Slipping on a pair of leather flats, she exited the bedroom, certain Josh was still there, considering she’d interrupted him before he could finish telling her about Anthony, and the case he’d been working on.

  The living room was straightened, their coffee cups gone, the ashes in the grate completely cooled. The eat, folded pile of clothes and underthings she’d sh
ed for Josh was the only evidence of what had transpired last night.

  The sliding glass door leading to the deck was open, and through the screen she saw Josh leaning against the railing, staring out at the blue ocean, his long fingers wrapped around a coffee mug with curls of steam drifting from the rim. He was dressed in the clothes he’d worn yesterday, his shoulder holster back in place, his Beretta tucked securely inside. His posture was decep tively relaxed, but she knew at any given moment those lean muscles of his could spring into action-in less than two seconds he could have his gun out of the hol ster and drawn. He was trained to protect and serve and shoot to kill if the situation warranted it

  Then he turned, as if sensing she stood there, and she had no choice but to open the screen door and step out onto the deck. She had no intention of avoiding him, on their morning-after conversation. The sooner they hashed things out, the better.

  But she hadn’t counted on him looking at her with such tenderness. Never would have expected the sensual, possessive smile that curved his mouth. Couldn’t have anticipated that his smoldering brown eyes would touch her as intimately as his hands and mouth had last night.

  She damned her traitorous body for responding to him after her stern lecture to herself in the bathroom.

  “Good morning,” he said, bringing his coffee mug to his lips, watching her over the rim while he look a drink.

  Even his voice was richer, she thought. Sexier than she could ever remember. It was a bad sign that she noticed. Real bad.

  “Good morning,” she replied easily. Coming up be side where he stood by the white wooden railing encasing the deck, she stared out at the expanse of sane stretching toward the beach, still damp from the previous night’s rain. The bright sun shimmered off the calm ocean, and a cool breeze lifted her hair away from he face.