by Meryl Sawyer
“My father died thirty-six hours after your mother skipped out on him.”
She couldn’t blame him for the bitterness so evident in his voice. There were two sides to every story. Kyle had his own take on the situation. What did it matter now? They were both dead, but their memories lingered, haunted.
“I’m sorry about your father. Truly I am. He was a good man. During the time we lived with him, your father was wonderful to me.”
“Yeah,” Kyle replied, a fond note in his voice. “He would have blistered both our hides if he knew what was happening.”
“True. So true.”
She gazed at him … remembering. She recalled more than she wanted about those hot, sultry summer nights when they’d lied to their parents, pretending to be going out with friends only to meet in their secret spot in the woods. She had been crazy about him in that uninhibited, totally devoted way young girls love for the very first time.
Then you grew up—and paid the price.
“What happened to you, Jennifer? Where did you go?”
It was the very question she wanted to ask him. Of course, she knew the answer. She hadn’t been as important to him as he had been to her.
“An old friend of my mother’s had a farm in rural Georgia near Macon. We went to live with him. They got married.”
“I guess she wasn’t that crazy about my father.”
How could she explain? she wondered. She’d never really understood why her mother had married. “Hiram Whitmore had been in love with my mother since high school. He caught her on the rebound.”
“Whitmore adopted you.”
“Yes. He expected it to make my mother love him, but it didn’t.” She sucked in a calming breath of air. “Mom never stopped loving your father. He meant more to her than life itself. Without him, she didn’t care about living. That’s what she said in her suicide note.”
“Sonofabitch!” He stared at her a moment, slack-jawed, then put his arm around her and drew her close.
She was acutely conscious of where his warm flesh touched her. A strange inner excitement filled her making it hard to concentrate.
“She left you alone in the world.”
She opened her mouth to defend her mother, but her eyes met his and she acknowledged … the truth. A thousand times she’d asked herself the same question. Didn’t her mother love her enough to want to live to help Jennifer when she had most needed a mother? In a way Jennifer blamed herself. She should have been able to do something to save her mother.
“She loved me, but she was obsessed with your father.” She hesitated, torn by conflicting emotions. “If she’d known he had died, it might have made a difference. Especially if she believed he loved her.”
His large hand cradled her chin, the touch almost unbearable in its tenderness. “Dad loved your mother. He planned to marry her. He told me so the morning he left.”
“If only he’d phoned her.”
“I gave him the number you left with me. He kept calling and calling, but the line was busy.”
She let out a long sigh and allowed herself to lean against him for support. “I wish—”
He silenced her with a cool finger to her lips. “Hush. Even if they’d spoken, Dad still would have died. Your mother probably would have killed herself anyway.” The smoldering anger she detected in his voice startled her. “I often blamed your mother for my father’s death.”
“What?” She pulled out of his arms. “That’s ridiculous.”
“The last thing a SEAL in combat needs is to let a woman distract you.” He paused, now seeming more pensive than upset or angry. “Dad went into combat worried about your mother.”
“Are you saying she was responsible for his death?” she gasped, unable to imagine it. Of all the scenarios she’d envisioned, and there had been hundreds of them, she had never considered her mother might have caused Vince Parker’s death.
“She didn’t fire the machine gun that pumped the bullet into his body. But when he left, Dad was so upset about your mother skipping out on him that I don’t think he was focused on combat the way he should have been.”
A pulsing knot formed in her stomach as she realized how selfishly she’d looked at the situation. She’d never stopped to consider Kyle’s point of view.
“I’m sorry about your father’s death. I truly am. My mother would have shot herself even sooner if she suspected she played any part in his death.”
He shrugged. “Who knows? He might have died anyway.”
“The whole thing was a tragedy.” Of course, what she’d told him was only part of the story, the part she could force herself to tell.
They sat in silence, the sounds of the storm filling the dark cellar. Finally, Kyle spoke.
“That was then and this is now. What about us?”
“Us?” she retorted more sharply than she intended.
The time for “us” had been years ago. The raw ache that had never quite gone away reminded her of the love she’d once felt for Kyle. He had been her first love. She could tell herself Kyle was nothing to her, but she wasn’t being honest.
“We’re friends.” She couldn’t keep the teary undertone out of her voice. “We’ll always be friends.”
“Friends? Friends?” He swept her into his arms. “We’re more than friends.”
His last words were nearly smothered against her lips. His kiss was surprisingly gentle, almost thoughtful, as if he were giving her time to think about their relationship. She intended to push him away, she honestly did, but somehow she found herself returning his kiss—in spite of herself. She told herself to remember what had happened the last time they’d made love. Don’t allow yourself to be hurt again.
“Friends, huh? Gimme a break.”
Before she could even attempt a clever comeback, he was kissing her again. In some distant part of her brain, she realized he was unbuttoning her blouse. He pulled back and gazed down at her.
“You know, Jennifer, all things considered, I think we should upgrade our relationship to best friends.”
Chapter 20
To hammer home his point, Kyle repeated, “Best friends.”
He ran the tip of his finger up her arm as he stared into her eyes. He wondered just what she was thinking. He knew she wanted him, yet something held her back, and he had the distinct feeling more than Chad Roberts was bothering her.
“Don’t get any ideas,” she said without looking at him.
“Ideas? Ideas?” he said. “Hey, you catch on quickly. Don’t you?”
He slipped his arm around her and drew her close. The rain had soaked her hair, turning it a burnished gold in the warm glow of the flashlight. The heat of her body caused the scent of some intoxicating fragrance to rise from her soft skin. A fluid warmth seeped through him, pooling in his groin.
A sense of urgency, both physical and mental, spurred him on. As weird as it seemed, this was the time—and stranger yet—the place—to make love to Jennifer. They’d come close earlier in the evening. If he allowed her to talk him out of it, he might never have another chance with her.
He lowered his head to capture her lips in a fierce, hot kiss. His tongue invaded her mouth commanding her to respond. Flattening the mound of her breasts, his chest pressed against hers.
She didn’t protest when his hand stole under her T-shirt. Beneath the damp fabric, her skin was moist, but smooth. He inched his way upward, taking his sweet time.
A flare of desire smoldering in her eyes told him that she wanted this as much as he did. She gasped as his hand covered the lacy cup of her bra. With the pad of his thumb, he caressed the taut nipple.
“Like this?” he asked, the need to hear her voice suddenly hitting him.
A beat of silence. “Oh, yes.”
The hard heat building in his groin kicked up a notch. His cock pushed against the scratchy burlap bag covering him. He tossed it aside, then angled his body across hers.
His lips explored the gentle curve of her neck wh
ile his hand stroked the warm fullness of her breasts. He sucked her skin against his teeth, tasting, feeling the fine texture. Then he nuzzled her neck hard with the stiff bristles of whiskers emerging along his jaw as he flicked his tongue across her earlobe.
“You’re so damn sexy,” he whispered into her ear.
In response, she arched up a little and turned her head toward him. Her lips were parted and moist and begging for another soul kiss. Her eager response matched his, startling him. His mouth covered hers with a hunger that bordered on desperation.
Take it easy, he told himself. Don’t rush her.
He plowed his fingers through her damp hair and arched her head back as he pressed his open lips against hers. His tongue delved deep into her mouth. His free hand slid behind the cup of her bra and found her taut nipple.
Her wet clothing got in the way, and he pulled her upright, then peeled her T-shirt over her head. He flung it in the direction of the Harley. A peach-colored demi-bra supported breasts that weren’t centerfold material, but they were the sexiest set he’d ever seen.
Above the rain pummeling the cellar and the howl of the wind, their ragged breath filled the dark room. He gently lowered her onto her back again. Through the moist lace, he suckled first one tight nipple, then the other, flicking it roughly with the tip of his tongue.
She moved beneath him, obviously responding to his erection pressing against her damp shorts. His bare leg nudged her thighs apart, and he settled himself between her legs. She sucked in a gulp of air, then raked her nails across his shoulders.
“Oh, Kyle!”
The raspy sound of her voice kicked his pulse into high gear. His blood seemed thick and heavy as it pounded in his temples. Hot, demanding need raced through his body and throbbed in his groin.
He unhooked her bra, then pulled it off and tossed it over his shoulder. Nuzzling her breasts, he cupped them with his hands and inhaled deeply. The warm, moist scent of woman mingled with a trace of perfume, overloading his senses. He’d never slowed down to enjoy a woman this way before now. The thought had never occurred to him, but Jennifer was different. He wanted to enjoy her fully, completely.
She arched her hips upward, shoving herself against his pelvis. He rocked back and forth, then up and down. His fingers scaled downward, playing across her baby-fine skin and stopping just above her warm mound.
His hand inched downward, possessively covering the downy rise. With a single finger, he parted the delicate folds and found the tight nub at the heart of her sex. The air left her lungs in an audible rush.
“Let’s get you out of these damn shorts,” he said to her.
She lifted her hips and helped him unbutton and shove her wet clothes down over her hips. He threw them in the same general direction of her bra. The poor excuse for panties—nothing more than a triangle of fabric—went next.
Taking her hand, he guided it to his turgid erection.
“See what you do to me?”
Her throaty sigh echoed through the dark cellar. She pulled back her hand and he rose to his knees.
Jennifer gazed up at Kyle who was wearing nothing but a captivating smile. Everything about him seemed strong, hard. Irresistibly masculine. A whisk of dark hair unfurled into a coarse dense thicket below his navel. Aimed right at her, his shaft surged out from between powerful thighs.
“Jenny,” he said, his tone as seductive as his eyes, which were exploring her body a scant inch at a time.
Her name on his lips, an echo from years past, sent a stab of raw pain to the depths of her soul.
She stared up at the shadowy ceiling, its beams casting dark bars of light above her. What was she doing? she asked herself. In an instant, the answer came.
She had wanted this man. No matter what the consequences. She intended to lose herself in him, in this moment—to forget the past.
And what troubles tomorrow might bring.
Kyle bent down and brushed her tummy with his lips. Trailing moist kisses, he roved lower and lower until his mouth found the forbidden heat between her thighs. The rasp of his beard against her sensitive skin was unbelievably arousing. Her heart beating in erratic, uneven lurches, she couldn’t resist arching her buttocks asking for more.
Suddenly, she sensed herself fracturing in a thousand tiny, explosive pieces, then Kyle pulled back.
“Keep going!”
He smiled, a cocksure grin that said he had her number. Balanced on his knees, he guided the velvet-smooth tip of his penis between her thighs. Slipping slowly up, then down, he stroked her ultra-sensitive skin with expert precision. Each caress threatened to trigger a core meltdown.
She gasped, “Oh, my. I—I—”
“Sweetheart, now’s not the time for an intellectual discussion,” he said in a raspy undertone. “Trust me on this.”
She tried to giggle, but a choked sound came out instead. He kept fondling her with the tip of his penis and smiling down at her.
“A-aren’t you going to … you know.”
“No, what?”
“Don’t joke. Get on with it.”
He eased the bulbous head of his shaft into her body. She stiffened, already realizing how large he was and bracing herself.
“Is this what you want … Jenny? Tell me.”
Her pulse, already tripping over itself, skyrocketed. “Yes, oh, yes.”
“Say it.”
“I … I want … you.”
“Who do you want? Tell me.”
“I—I want you … Kyle.” The words came out in a breathless rush.
“And I want you, Jenny. I always have. I always will.”
He repositioned himself, his upper body settling heavily against hers, the mat of hair on his chest flattening her flushed nipples. His hips cocked and the iron heat of his sex penetrated her, stretching her thighs apart with a forceful thrust.
He delved deeper, hunkering down and burrowing further into her body until he could go no more. The mindless, shuddering satisfaction of having him inside her knocked her breath from her lungs. True, she didn’t have much experience making love, but she thought she knew what pleasure sex could give.
Wrong.
This was altogether different and totally unexpected. Her throat constricted as he began to move inside her with a moan so tortured it sounded as if he was in physical pain. His groan came from deep in his chest, but it reverberated through her entire body in a way that was uniquely erotic.
With both hands, he lifted her hips to deepen the angle of his thrusts. Her heart thrummed noisily, painfully. She shuddered as he cradled her face in his hands, and sighed as his lips smothered hers in a mind-searing kiss.
Jennifer forced her eyes to open and found she was gazing directly into his. The white-hot green of his irises bored into her with mind-startling intensity. There had always been something so compelling about Kyle.
He pumped up and down, entering her body, then withdrawing in seconds only to reenter again. She gasped, attempting to draw vital air into her lungs as the tempo of her body matched his. The sweet feel of imminent release spiraled through her in a heady rush.
Heaven help her! This was it!
A rainbow of stars blinded her for a moment, then she floated, serene on an imaginary carpet of sweet-smelling rose petals. She closed her eyes and tried to catch her breath.
Kyle had to admit this was the best sex he’d ever had, and yet it had been so much … more. Jennifer touched a part of him, a place he would have sworn had been snuffed out long ago on an airstrip in Greneda. His father’s friends had described in detail his father’s heroic death. Losing his only parent, a father he loved, had taken something out of Kyle.
In the two years that followed, living in foster homes too brutal to think about, he’d developed an emotional shield. Only once since his father’s death had he allowed his guard to slip and to care about what happened to another person. That chink in his emotional armor had damn nearly gotten him killed.
What in hell was he doing wi
th Jennifer?
Jennifer hadn’t made him feel sorry for her—the way the woman in Libya had. No, Jennifer had reached him on another emotional plane entirely. She’d brought back the past, the wonder and passion of their brief time together.
Making love to Jennifer had been an unexpectedly moving experience. But as he looked at her now, he knew something was troubling her. No doubt she was giving herself hell for having sex with him while engaged to another man.
Chad Roberts was history. No way could Jennifer make love to him and still want to marry Chad. She wasn’t the kind of woman to be disloyal.
Her lips were still moist from his kisses. The lower one appeared fuller than usual, making him tempted to kiss her again—and start all over. As if reading his mind, she looked away, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.
She’s withdrawing, he thought, but he didn’t know what to do or say. Putting his feeling in words wasn’t something he’d ever been comfortable doing.
“Jen?” He put his hand on her smooth shoulder.
She turned her head to face him. His instinctive response to her was so powerful that it stunned him. How had it happened so quickly?
A searing bolt of lightning so intense its light speared through the gaps in the cellar’s door lit up the room. Almost immediately a bolt of thunder rocked the earth, the jolt so ferocious the stone floor beneath them rumbled.
“Jeez-us!” Kyle pulled Jennifer into his arm.
Cree-aaak! The strange sound was followed by a reverberating crash, then a series of splintering sounds.
“Oh, my God! What is it?” Jennifer cried.
“I think lightning struck the big gumbo limbo tree in the garden. Sounds like it fell against the house.”
“That’s too bad. I couldn’t see much, but it looked like a grand old mansion like Thunder Island.”
“This is one of the oldest historic homes in Key West,” Kyle said, his arm still around Jennifer. “I’d better check the radio and see what’s going on out there.”
Jennifer almost looked away when Kyle stood up and walked across the cellar without bothering to cover himself. Wait. She’d just made love to this man. Why was she feeling so self-conscious?