by Bonnie Pega
With a communication that transcended words, he showed his feelings with a lover’s touch—touching, caressing, kissing. Every time she moaned or gasped with pleasure, it served to spur him on. Like a thirsty man at a pool of cool water, he drank in her sweetness, letting it fill him up until it spilled over.
There wasn’t an inch of her that he didn’t taste—from the base of her throat to the curve of her waist to the backs of her knees to her candy-apple-red toenails. And when he finally tasted the already damp petals of her womanhood, she tangled her fingers in his hair and arched her hips as the tremors of ecstasy shook her body. He felt each spasm as acutely as if she were connected to him.
“Please, Zac. Please. Now.” She urged his body up to lay atop hers.
“Now,” he agreed with a groan. He bent over the side of the bed and fumbled in his trouser pocket for a moment, then turned back into her eagerly waiting arms. With his body poised above hers, he whispered, “Look at me, baby. I want to see your eyes when you take me inside you.” Their gazes locked, he slid into the hot, sweet pleasure that awaited him.
As their bodies moved together, he was rocked to his very soul at the intensity of the feelings that swept through him—feelings that were by turns shaky, sure, gentle, savage, generous, greedy. With the last shreds of his self-control, he held on until he felt more tremors shake her body. Then he plunged deep and buried his face in her neck.
“Oh, God, Libby,” he groaned over and over as the lightning bolts of fulfillment shot through him. And as they clung together in the midst of spiraling fireworks, he found words welling up from inside—words he didn’t know had been lying in wait. “I love you, baby. I love you.”
Later, as they lay curled together, drowsy and sated, he wasn’t sure whether he’d actually said the words out loud. But, strangely enough, they didn’t scare him. At least, not like the idea of falling in love had a year or two ago. Love didn’t automatically have to mean marriage—not these days.
Even though marriage wasn’t in his plans for the next few years, he could certainly work in a relationship. He’d have to. Now that he knew what making love with her was like, he intended to make time for it. A whole lot of time. He conve-niently chose to ignore thoughts of the baby sleeping in the other room. Of course, Libby wanted a permanent relationship, but after last night, maybe she’d be content to just share his bed. It was all he had to give her.
He drew Libby closer and nuzzled the top of her head, breathing in that sweet honeysuckle and baby talc fragrance that clung to her. “You okay?” He toyed with her hair, spreading it over the pillow.
“Better than okay,” Libby murmured against the warm, damp skin of his chest. “More like great. Wonderful, even. How about you?”
Zac sighed, a deep, sated sigh of contentment, and his voice was husky with promise when he said, “If I had known just how wonderful it was going to be, I’d have jumped your bones a long time ago.”
Libby smiled and curled her fingers through the hair on his chest. “Not if I jumped yours first.” She found and lazily circled one tight male nipple. She could feel the sudden acceleration in his heartbeat beneath her cheek.
“Ahem.” Zac cleared his throat. “Speaking of jumping bones …”
“Yes?”
“You’re welcome to jump mine now, if you like. And I devoutly wish you would.”
“Now?” Libby raised her head to look at him. “You mean like right now? You’re not going to turn over and go to sleep?”
“Of course not! That would be a tragic waste of time, what with you in my arms and all. Besides”—he turned to the side so she could feel his renewed desire—“I did say next time would be all yours, didn’t I?”
One more reason to damn Bobby, Libby thought. So some men didn’t automatically roll over and doze, like Bobby said they did. Or was Zac the exception? She felt his rapidly growing erection against her thigh. If he was an exception, he was certainly an exceptional exception.
She smiled to herself, her hands beginning a wonderful voyage of exploration. Now it was her turn to drive him as crazy with need as he had her. She smoothed the palms of her hands over his chest and he moaned deep in his throat. She sucked each flat brown nipple and his breath caught. She slid one seeking hand down over his stomach to his throbbing arousal and he gulped, then rolled over, pinning her beneath him.
Her eyes shone up at him. “I don’t know how good I am at this, Zac, but—”
“Baby, if you were any better at this, it’d kill me.”
He lowered his lips to hers. “I love kissing you,” he said against her mouth. “I could kiss you for hours and hours.” He cupped her breast in his hand. “And I love touching you here. I could do this for hours, but then I wouldn’t have time to do this.…” He slipped a finger inside her. Just before the waves of passion inundated her completely, a thought hit her. Although he was willing to admit it only when he was in the throes of passion, he did love her. But would love be enough?
TEN
Libby woke before Zac did the next morning. She lay on her side, Zac nestled against her back as close as a second skin. His arm was draped over her, his hand cupping her breast. Libby gently, reluctantly, disengaged herself from his grasp and stretched, smiling to herself at the telltale soreness that spoke of a night in Zac’s arms. It was a wonderful soreness, a sensual soreness. He had kept his promise, she thought fancifully, it had been long and slow—at least the first time.
The second time, her time, had been fast and furious. And in the middle of the night, when she’d gotten up to nurse the baby, he’d awakened when she got back in bed and pulled her to him for another hungry exploration.
Her gaze wandered leisurely over his face, seeing the man beneath the pose. Tiny lines beside his eyes said that he laughed often. His jaw still jutted obstinately, even in sleep, and that devilish curve to his lips still remained, warning the world that he’d always be able to give as good as he got. His whiskers were just starting to show, and Libby’s eyes widened in humor. Red. His beard was coming in red. No wonder he never showed signs of a five o’clock shadow.
He was definitely a man for a lifetime—one to wake up to every morning. His lips did have that permanent humorous quirk, but also showed a capacity for tenderness. His jaw was stubborn, true, but also ambitious and determined without being obsessive. It was that determination that was going to give her the most trouble, she realized, because he was as determined to stay single as she was to get married. She resolutely pushed away the feeling that this had been a big mistake.
Zac murmured and reached out for her, his hand cupping a breast. The pressure reminded her how sore and swollen she was, and she glanced at the clock. Eight o’clock? She sat bolt upright in bed. Cupcake had never slept this late before. Heart pounding, she scrambled out of bed and dashed into the baby’s room, only to find Victoria lying on her back, playing contentedly with her toes.
As soon as the baby saw Libby, she grinned and let out a gurgle of delight, waving her arms in the air. With a sigh of relief, Libby picked up the baby, cuddling her against her neck. “Thanks a lot, sweetie,” she murmured. “Thanks for giving me an almost uninterrupted night. I put it to good use. I promise.”
“You did that,” a voice agreed from the doorway.
Libby looked up with a smile, and her breath caught in her throat at the sight of Zac outlined in the morning light. His stance was wide, his arms crossed and he looked as magnificently regal, even stark naked, as an approving pasha surveying his harem.
“Good morning,” she said shyly.
Zac came over to her and wrapped his arms around her and the baby. “Come back to bed, Libby. I didn’t like waking up without you.”
“I’m sorry,” she murmured against the warm skin of his throat. “I had to go see why Victoria was sleeping so late.”
“I bribed her, that’s why.”
“Bribed her?”
“Last night. I promised her strained peaches or something if she gave
us an interrupted night.”
“As soon as she’s ready to start solid food, I’ll be sure to work it in. Right now, though, I think she’s ready to nurse.” She could feel the baby’s inquisitive little mouth making sucking motions against her shoulder.
“Bring her back to bed with you, then. After all”—his voice was laced with humor—“that’s about the only place we’re both dressed for.”
She turned and grabbed a diaper from the dresser and headed back to the bedroom. Zac appreciatively eyed the smooth flesh of her bare buttocks as she preceded him. Libby moved with a natural, unstudied grace and seemed not the least bit self-conscious about her body. He liked that. He really liked a woman who was comfortable with her own body—though he’d met very few who actually were.
Her figure wasn’t perfect, at least not by today’s standards. Her curves were a little too pronounced for the tight-jeans-and-T-shirt look, but they were the kind of curves that demanded to be explored and claimed. A man could spend the rest of his life exploring them. But the man wouldn’t—couldn’t—be him.
Zac sat next to her on the bed, and she immediately handed him the baby and the diaper. “What’s this for?” He raised an eyebrow.
Libby fluttered her eyelashes. “To change her.”
“Change her into what?” he grinned. “I thought you liked her the way she is.”
“Cute. Real cute. No, I thought you’d change her diaper.” When Zac started to protest, she held up a hand. “Don’t tell me you don’t change diapers. You did a perfectly good job changing Nicky’s.”
“Except when he leaked.”
“All babies leak.”
Zac sighed good-naturedly. “All right.” He unsnapped the baby’s terry sleeper.
For someone who hadn’t changed that many diapers in his life—and for someone who swore he wasn’t good with babies—he was surprisingly competent. He had the baby changed and powdered and tucked into a clean terry suit in a matter of minutes. Libby silently thanked God that Victoria was not only in her usual morning good mood, but that she even seemed to be showing off.
She kicked her feet, smiled, cooed, blew bubbles, and gave a big toothless grin whenever Zac looked at her. He reached out and ran a finger down her petal-soft cheek. The baby turned her head toward his finger and grabbed it, sucking vigorously. Zac turned a puzzled glance to Libby.
She reached over and lifted the baby into her arms. “She’s telling you, in a very gentle way, that she’s ready for breakfast.”
“Let me help.”
“I’m afraid there’s really nothing you can do—”
Zac leaned against the head of the bed and pulled Libby back against him. “I can do this.” He reached around and circled her breast with his hand, positioning the nipple just right for the baby’s eagerly sucking mouth. He continued to hold Libby in his hand while the baby nursed.
As he peered over her shoulder at the baby nestled in her arms, he felt a strange warmth inside. He was as turned on as he could get—and he knew Libby could feel his arousal by the way she kept scooting back against it. But it wasn’t only that he found it all incredibly erotic, he also found it moving and—what was that word Libby had used?—connected. He felt connected.
The baby was starting to get full—at least that’s what Zac guessed by the way she had become less interested in nursing and more interesting in playing. Whenever she’d see Zac peek over Libby’s shoulder, Victoria would give a big grin around the rosy nipple still in her mouth. Finally, she let go altogether and began blowing little milky bubbles as she played with her feet.
Zac touched a droplet of milk still clinging to Libby’s swollen pink nipple. “What does that taste like, I wonder?” He eased Libby to one side and lowered his head toward her breast.
“Zac.” Did Libby know how sexy she sounded with that breathless pleading in her voice? “I need to burp Cupcake.”
“And I need to make love to you. But I suppose I can wait—for a minute or two.” He leaned back against the pillows and watched Libby as she put the baby against her shoulder and gently patted her back. Victoria kept peeking at Zac and smiling, and Zac couldn’t help but smile back. God, but she was a cute kid!
When a few minutes had gone by with no results, Zac leaned forward and touched his nose to the baby’s. “Burp,” he ordered softly. Victoria grinned, blew bubbles at him, and let out a very satisfying burp. Libby immediately put her in the baby seat and positioned it so Victoria could see the rays of sun filtering through the assorted plants that filled the window. She turned back to Zac with a smile, only to have Wells take a flying leap and land in the middle of the bed.
Zac rolled his eyes. “And what does he want?”
“To go out, I guess.”
“I’ll go put him in the backyard and”—he looked daggers at the madly wagging dog—“I defy you to bark even once. Is that clear?” The dog wagged twice and ran to the kitchen door. Zac was back in less than a minute, but instead of getting into the bed, he walked to the telephone, lifted the receiver, and shut it in the nightstand drawer.
“You’re a man of many talents, Mr. Webster,” Libby said admiringly. “You change babies like a pro, get them to burp, order dogs not to bark, and even figure out how to prevent telephone interruptions.”
“Wait till you see what else I can do.” He sat on the edge of the bed and lifted her left foot in his hand.
“I can hardly wait,” she murmured with a moan as he began tracing circles on her big toe—with his tongue.
By mutual consent they missed breakfast. They almost missed lunch too, but their stomachs reminded them. Libby didn’t think she’d ever been this happy in her life, though she knew she was only borrowing the happiness for a short while. They giggled like children as they fixed lunch together—Zac even made bologna sandwiches seem sexy, especially when he squeezed a dollop of mustard over the curve of Libby’s breast and proceeded to lick it off. This delayed lunch by another half hour and the tomato soup Libby had heated was nearly cold, but they ate it anyway.
Zac went home midafternoon, after arranging to pick Libby up for dinner at his place that evening. Libby sat on the sofa after he’d gone, cuddling Victoria. No sooner had the door shut than the house seemed to echo with emptiness. She couldn’t stand it.
She propped the baby on her shoulder and wandered into the kitchen, but stopped short at the disorder that greeted her—disorder that whispered Zac. The dishes from lunch were stacked in the sink, and there was a smear of mustard on the countertop—mustard from Zac’s sexy play. She shook her head. She’d deal with this later.
She went into the bedroom to get the baby chair, but here the emptiness didn’t just echo, it yelled, it screamed at her. The rumpled sheets, the scraps of red lace scattered on the floor all shouted Zac’s name.
She cuddled the baby closer. Had this been a mistake? A woman who wanted, needed, a husband, and a man who didn’t want to need anyone—it was impossible. Based on how empty her cozy little house felt after just one night with him, she began to see the magnitude of her mistake. She had set herself up for the heartache of a lifetime.
Zac showered and changed as soon as he got in the door, then turned on the television. He listened to the baseball game with half a mind while he restlessly prowled his apartment. He was ready to go over to Libby’s right then and get her, but he’d said he’d pick her up at six. Three more hours.
He looked around his living room, not quite satisfied for some reason. He rearranged the silk plants on his mantel, opened the sheer curtains to let in more light, even moved all the magazines from the coffee table. But something still didn’t seem right. He took off his shoes and socks and left them piled in front of the sofa as he paced. Suddenly he stopped and looked at them. For some odd reason, the clutter made it look better. It’s a shame there wasn’t more color, though.
A sudden flash of inspiration made Zac put his socks and shoes back on, grab his car keys, and dash out. He was back in less than an hour with a
vase filled with a huge bouquet of flowers—blue, yellow, purple, red. Lots of red. He set that on the coffee table and nodded in satisfaction. Libby would love it.
He showed up at her house at five-thirty. “You’re early!” she said lightly. “Luckily, we’re ready.” She handed the baby to Zac and grabbed the diaper bag from beside the front door.
When Libby had shut the door behind her, Zac said, “We need to get the car seat out of your car, right?”
Libby’s eyes widened. “As a matter of fact, we do. What made you think of that?”
“Oh, it was mentioned in an article I read somewhere.” Yeah, in the copies of Modern Baby that Hannah gave him. He’d found himself reading them late one night and, to his utter amazement, actually thought them interesting.
He watched Libby as she opened her car door and unfastened the infant seat. She wore the pink sundress she’d worn at the Lamaze class reunion, and all Zac could think about was getting his teeth on that obnoxious gold button.
After a long night and day spent making love with her, Zac wouldn’t have thought he’d have enough energy to do it again so soon. He was only now beginning to realize that it would take a lot more than that to get enough of her. If such a thing were even possible. As a matter of fact, it would take a lifetime.
Whoa! Zac stopped dead. He didn’t just want her in his bed. He wanted her in his life. He wanted to wake up with her, come home to her, go to sleep with her in his arms.
But his plans. His plans didn’t have room for that. Not yet. He’d vowed to make the Fortune 500 by the time he was thirty-five. Four years to go. And until he’d met that goal, his work would require all his time and emotional energy. He wouldn’t have any left over for a family. Why couldn’t they have met five years from now?
“Zac? Is something wrong?”
“Uh, no. No, everything’s fine,” Zac mumbled and fastened the car seat in his car.
Libby was quiet on the way to Zac’s, seemingly preoccupied with her thoughts. That suited Zac fine. He was still wrestling with thoughts of his own. He knew Libby was looking for a husband and father. She might be willing to take on Zac, but it wouldn’t take too many weeks of his Saturday meetings and working until nine or ten before she would begin feeling resentful. Or, worse, maybe she’d feel lonely and neglected.