Uncaged

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Uncaged Page 9

by Lucy Gordon


  He could feel that it was the same with Megan. The slim body in his arms was tense and urgent as the revelation became clear to her, too. They’d trodden this path before and turned back when their passion had shattered against their mutual mistrust. Since then they’d learned about each other, and mistrust was gradually being replaced by a cautious alliance based on respect and affinity of suffering. But what was happening now had nothing to do with respect and everything to do with the burning need of flesh for flesh. This woman, whom he had no right to think of, much less want, had touched off a craving deep within him that was beyond rational thought, and he, who’d survived twelve years on the force by calculating risks, could do nothing but surrender to it helplessly.

  Megan had the feeling of being swept away by a whirlwind. Her mind was against this, but her body wanted it. Nothing mattered now except the fact that his mouth was on hers, moving slowly, savoring each sweet caress, lingering, promising. And the skill of his mouth was matched by the skill of his hands. His touch made her light clothing feel like iron barriers, keeping him out when she wanted to invite him in. It was shocking to feel like this, but she couldn’t help herself.

  Through the roaring of her senses she managed to murmur, “Daniel...”

  “Yes,” he said hoarsely.

  “We shouldn’t do this...I know we shouldn’t....”

  “Then tell me to stop.” She looked up at him helplessly, and with a groan he covered her mouth again. “Tell me to stop,” he repeated in a voice that was half command, half plea.

  “I can’t...you know I can’t....” Her words were drowned by his lips covering hers, his tongue in her mouth, exploring her with eager anticipation. She was possessed by tremors of pleasure, startling in their intensity. She hadn’t known that such sensations could exist, and now she had no choice but to surrender herself to them right up to the end—whatever the end might be. She didn’t know what kind of a lover Daniel would be, but suddenly she was desperate to find out. Nothing must stop her now. Nothing could stop her now.

  With a quick movement she wrenched open the buttons of his shirt and allowed herself the treat of exploring inside. His chest was thick with curly hair that rasped pleasurably against her palm. Beneath it was a firm, muscular torso, hinting at the strength of his whole body, and delights to come. She could feel the vibrations of pleasure shaking him, and the next moment he’d responded in kind, pulling open the buttons of her top and slipping his hand inside to encompass one full breast. She gasped with sheer delight. Every inch of her body was ready for him, longing for him.

  She’d half expected Daniel to be a conventional lover, taking her upstairs to make love in bed because that was “the proper place.” But he surprised her by tossing some cushions onto the floor before returning to the serious business of undressing her. Her top was tossed aside, followed by her scanty bra, and then there was nothing to stop him loving both bare breasts with hands and lips and tongue.

  He pulled her down onto the cushions and began a tender assault on the richness of her body. Sensations flooded Megan as he accepted the invitation in her proud, peaked nipples, and began to tease them with ruthless skill. She’d thought she knew about sex, but now she discovered that the moderate enjoyment she’d experienced before hadn’t even been the beginning. Real pleasure was what was happening to her now, this stunning, mind-numbing, overwhelming onslaught of feelings that utterly possessed her.

  Even the very word “pleasure,” was inadequate to describe what was happening. It was as though the whole world was opening up to her for the first time. Doors swung wide, revealing glorious visions, vistas leading to infinity, sharply brilliant colors. Ripe fruit hung from the trees, flowers blossomed underfoot, and the whole of creation burst with new life, reflecting the awakening that was taking place inside her. This was what life was about, and she’d never known, never even suspected.

  She didn’t know who’d stripped off Daniel’s shirt, but she suspected it was herself, because she was kissing his body hungrily, inhaling his male scent. He felt good to her, his flesh firm beneath her exploring fingers, beneath her searching mouth. Every inch of her was alive and thrumming with desire for the man whose lean body and muscular thighs held such exciting strength. He’d said that he was a plain man, and just now that was what she wanted; raw, forceful, straightforward, driving her to the edge of ecstasy.

  “Daniel...” she whispered. “Daniel...”

  “It’s too late to tell me to stop now,” he said hoarsely.

  “Don’t stop...can’t wait...” The last words came from her in a gasp as he moved between her legs and entered her in one hard-driving movement. The sound was matched by his groan as she enveloped him with arms and legs and loins. For a few minutes they were both oblivious to everything except the pleasure they were giving each other. By sheer instinct they found themselves moving in perfect harmony, their bodies attuned as though nature had meant it that way from the beginning of time.

  Everything she’d thought she knew about herself seemed to fall away, revealing a truth so deep that she’d never suspected it, although it had been plain to strangers. She was Tiger Lady. She belonged in the jungle where only the primitive elements counted, because she herself was primitive, made of fire and air, heat and light.

  For years she’d told herself that her nickname was only a creation of the publicists, but they’d seen past the surface to her essential nature; smoky, exotic, animalistic. Now there was no more self-delusion. Her sensuality had come racing out of the forests of the night, eyes blazing, soft paws moving silently over the earth, claws barely concealed. It had pounced, it had her in its grip, was shaking her. Convulsions possessed her body, leaving her exhausted, wrung out and blissful. She would never be the same again.

  Daniel looked down into her flushed face, seeing the instant reawakening of desire. He was still hard inside her, and he knew that for him, too, this was just the beginning. She’d touched off a deep, physical craving that threatened to be uncontrollable. Was this why he’d instinctively feared her, because of her power to do this to him? But now he knew he had the same power over her. It was there in her large golden eyes in which distant fires burned, inciting him. It was there in the movements of her hips, and the long beautiful legs that were wound around him. She wanted what only he could give her, just as he wanted what only she could give. But she wouldn’t plead for it. She preferred to command, just as he did himself, and the result would be an epic power struggle. The thought of the awesome battles that would ensue sent a renewed thrill through his loins and he began to move again, slowly.

  At once a soft growl came up from a place deep within her. A contented tigress might have made that sound, and excitement stirred in him again in response. She unwound her legs from around his body and began to thrust her loins forward in strong, leisurely movements. Her hands, which had been around his neck, loosened their grip and she drew them back. There was a superb arrogance in the way she then clasped them behind her own head and lay looking up at Daniel through half-closed eyes. Her gaze challenged him, saying, “So surprise me,” and he was avid to meet that challenge.

  His strength came surging back as he moved inside her, exerting all his control to make it long, slow and satisfying. She understood his intention and timed her movements to his, reveling in the exquisite pleasure. This time when their climax approached, she had an extraordinary feeling of racing toward the edge of a cliff. The long drop didn’t scare her because she could see only air and light. As Daniel drove explosively into her, she launched herself off into space. Then she was spiraling down, crying out with pleasure and relief at the overwhelming sense of freedom. It felt indescribably good and she arched her back, holding him deep within her, wanting it to last forever. When it was over, she could have wept.

  She was devastated by enjoyment. This man was so skilled, so vigorous and satisfying, that she felt drained and totally contented. Dimly she recognized that her troubles were as great as ever, but the utte
r relaxation of her body was a balm that soothed every wound. It might not last, but for the moment she felt physically at peace and able to cope with whatever happened to her.

  Daniel was watching each expression that passed over her face, trying vainly to read them all. His own fulfillment had been total. He wanted to rest his head against her breast, to speak to her tenderly, even perhaps lovingly, and then to sleep in her arms. But she was looking at him through her lashes, and it was impossible for him to tell what else, besides physical contentment, there was in that look. “Well?” he asked lightly.

  “Well, what?”

  “Was it good?” He cursed himself as soon as the words were out. They were stupid, clumsy, arrogant. But a sudden shyness had overtaken him.

  His words—no, not his words, his attitude—had the effect of tightening the springs of tension that had begun to uncoil in Megan. Now she remembered that a chasm still yawned between them. They might no longer be enemies, but they were no more than wary comrades, and she’d lowered her guard. He’d seen her out of control, lost in his power. Her common sense told her it was a bad move.

  But prison had taught her many things, among them, dissimulation. So she merely sat up. “Of course it was good,” she said with a shrug. “I haven’t had a man in five years. Anyone would have been good.”

  With her back to him, she didn’t see the sudden strain in his face, as if she’d slapped him. When he spoke again, his voice was expressionless. “Five years? You were only in prison for three.”

  “And before that I was separated from my husband, so you assume I was promiscuous?”

  “I didn’t—”

  “After I left Brian I lived without a man by choice.”

  “And...before you left him?” It was none of his business. but he couldn’t stop himself from asking.

  Megan shrugged. “During our last year together we lived under the same roof, but there was nothing between us. You can believe that or not, as you like.”

  He just stopped himself making a sound of relief. It was irrational to feel such pleasure. What did it matter to him that she’d had the good taste to reject her worthless husband? It might have mattered once, but she’d made it only too clear that nothing had changed between her and himself. They’d succumbed to a moment of physical madness. The minute it was over she hastened to restore the distance between them.

  No, not restore: create. The distance she was establishing now was twice what it had been when they’d returned from seeing Tommy. Then there’d been a camaraderie between them, which she now wanted to deny.

  A horrible thought occurred to Daniel. Had Megan really succumbed to madness at all? He’d tried to do her a service, and she was grateful. What had seemed to be passion might be no more than a kind of good manners. Now she was delicately letting him know that gratitude only went so far.

  He hastily got up and covered himself. The pleasure of being naked with her was gone. Now he felt as if he’d taken advantage of her defenselessness. He cursed himself for being awkward. But it was too late. For a brief moment something had almost flowered between them. But it was gone.

  * * *

  The next morning’s mail brought a letter from Mr. Newton, who announced that the negotiations for her compensation were going sufficiently well for him to make her a more generous advance. Attached to the letter was a check for one thousand pounds.

  “That’s excellent,” Daniel said in a toneless voice. “Now you can afford your own place.”

  “Of course,” Megan agreed instantly. “I’m sorry to have imposed on you. You’ve done a great deal for me, Daniel, but I can manage alone now and—”

  “Cut it out,” he ordered harshly. “I haven’t even started on what I’m going to do. You can’t clear this up on your own. You need me. Or were you fooling yourself that you don’t?”

  “No I—I guess I don’t understand. Why are you throwing me out?”

  “‘Throwing you out?’” he echoed, trying to speak lightly and not entirely succeeding. “That’s rich, coming from the woman who once said that anyone’s house was better than mine. I’m not ‘throwing you out,’ but for your sake I think it’s better if we live apart. What happened last night...shouldn’t have happened. And if you live independently of me it won’t happen again.”

  “I see,” she said slowly. “Yes, I see.”

  He wanted to shout that she didn’t see at all. Through a long sleepless night he’d been tormented by the thought that he’d traded on her need of him. He wanted her, but not that way, not in gratitude and dependence, but freely and with a full heart. Already his body ached for her again, craved to lie with her in joy and fulfillment, but if that day should come, he wanted to look into her shining eyes and see a true passion that matched his own. And when desire was slaked, he wanted her to nestle against him in blissful contentment, not withdraw, her debts paid. He knew it might never happen. But he also knew that even to hope for it he must first send her away.

  * * *

  They found a boarding house for her, a few miles away. It was run by Mrs. Cooper, a kindly, middle-aged woman who either didn’t recognize Megan or had the tact to pretend not to. There were three other occupants—a married couple and Bert, an elderly taxi driver who came and went at odd hours. He had three married daughters who all wanted to give him a home, and who constantly called him up, “fussing,” as he put it. But Bert was a maverick, preferring the independence of a boarding house and his taxi run. Megan found him friendly and likable.

  For the first time since she’d left prison there was peace. At least, peace of a kind. Nobody troubled her, and she could lose herself in the anonymity she’d craved.

  But in another sense her peace had been destroyed. After lying cold and dull for years, her flesh had been awakened to scorching life. It had tasted unbearable pleasure and now craved it again, but the only man who could work the miracle had sent her away. He’d done so under the guise of protecting her, but Megan guessed the real reason. He was still mistrustful and wanted to free himself from her. She was dangerous to him.

  But as she lay awake at night, trying to subdue her body’s demands, Daniel’s face would come into her mind, not suffused with desire as she’d seen it recently, but sad and gentle as it had been when he’d first rescued her and cared for her. Hating him, she’d hurled his care back in his teeth, but still he’d lavished it on her.

  She finally managed to persuade herself that she should call and make sure he was all right. But all she got was his answering machine. The first time it happened she left a message, but the next three times she hung up without saying anything. Like a blow to the stomach, the answer came to her. She’d been dumped. Daniel had decided that she was a nuisance, and he reckoned he would be better off without her. Or perhaps he’d had all he wanted of her, a kind of revenge for the devastation that had happened in his life? Or he’d simply decided she was guilty, after all, and he was getting out in time? Or—?

  “Here, snap out of it, luv.” Bert’s kindly voice broke into her thoughts. “He’ll call.”

  “I beg your pardon.” She came back to the present with a jolt. She and Bert were having breakfast alone together.

  “I know that look on your face,” he went on. “I saw it on my daughters’ faces often enough when they were teenagers. Does he or doesn’t he?”

  “Does he or doesn’t he what?” Megan asked cautiously.

  Bert winked. “He loves me, he loves me not...” he intoned mischievously. “That’s what my lasses were always wondering. But everything worked out for them.”

  “As you say, your daughters were teenagers,” Megan reminded him.

  “Aye, but it’s the same at any age,” he said sagely. “When love gets you, it gets you. My three really suffered, but it was worth it in the end. They’ve all got their fellers firmly hog-tied and broken spirited.” He chuckled. “That’s why I steer clear of them. Freedom for me. But I’m different. Most fellers knuckle under in the end. Now this bloke of your
s—”

  “You’ve got it wrong, Bert,” she interrupted him desperately. “I’m not in love.”

  “Pull the other one. Your ears shoot out on stalks every time that phone rings. And when it turns out not to be for you, you droop a little.”

  “Bert! I do not droop,” she protested, laughing despite her dismay. “You’re quite wrong. He’s not... we’re not...he’s more of a kind of legal adviser.”

  He grinned. “If you say so, luv.”

  His words had given her a shock. She was all at sea because this was something she’d never gone through as a teenager. At the age when other girls had been longing for the phone to ring, she’d been fending off male interest. No man had ever kept her guessing. Even Brian had danced attendance, calling her regularly, sometimes too often. This was her first experience with what Bert’s daughters and other women went through, and she didn’t know how to cope with it.

  That was all it was, she assured herself. Inexperience. The idea that she was in love with Daniel was ridiculous. Only, why didn’t he call?

  She returned to the school and went to the same spot where she’d seen Tommy in the distance. A day passed, then another. She refused to go away without seeing him. After two days’ lonely vigil he appeared again with his class. This time he looked in her direction almost at once, and her heart leapt as she realized he was looking for her. But then the teacher noticed what was happening and called him away. Megan crept back into the shelter of the trees as the teacher continued to look in her direction, suspicion written all over him. Sadly, Megan departed. Tommy seemed further away than ever now that her one hope had deserted her. Slowly she returned to the boarding house.

  As she entered the front door she met Bert just going out. He winked and jerked his head toward the communal sitting room. “I told you he’d turn up trumps,” he said.

  She didn’t waste time disputing his interpretation but ran into the sitting room, her heart beating madly with hope. There was a moment when the man standing in the blinding sun by the window could have been anybody. Then he turned and grinned at her, an almost boyish grin, such as she’d never seen on him before. The next moment she’d thrown herself into his arms, almost weeping with joy.

 

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